Chapter 64: The Mortal Realm

Tan Xueci only felt a sudden chill surge from the soles of his feet straight to the crown of his head. In the deep of night, the emergency indicator lights in the hospital corridor glowed with a faint, eerie green, casting the entire hallway in a ghostly, treacherous emerald light.

The ghost doctor’s deathly pale face was also shrouded in that horror-movie green. The smell of disinfectant, laced with a sickeningly sweet, bloody stench, forced its way into his nasal passages. Tan Xueci could even feel the rank air rushing against his face.

Both of his legs felt as if they were frozen stiff, yet they were incredibly weak. He staggered for a moment, then spun around and bolted.

Although that ghost doctor still had legs, his feet were twisted completely backward. He looked as though he was in immense pain, and his pace wasn’t fast. Tan Xueci managed to burst through several corridors in a single breath.

He couldn’t recognize what department he was currently in at all; he only felt that the layout seemed a bit different from the psychiatric floor.

As he passed by several wards, he heard the faint, eerie wailing of ghosts from within. From time to time, a ghost would suddenly let out a shrill, piercing laugh, scaring his small face until it was utterly pale as he darted frantically through the halls.

Then, he nearly collided head-on with someone.

“Holy shit!”

The other party seemed to be severely startled as well. He leapt backward violently and opened his mouth to curse, “I’m warning you, my ancestors for eight generations have been Taoist priests! If you dead freaks try to scare me again, watch out or my great-grandma’s gonna come down here in a bit and exorcise all of you!”

Tan Xueci: “…”

Tan Xueci had originally been so terrified that he wanted to turn around and run again, but hearing this familiar voice, he stopped in his tracks.

He swallowed his saliva and asked, “Jin Chen?”

Jin Chen, standing at six feet tall, was also scared white as a sheet.

He had run faster than Tan Xueci and didn’t even know how many floors he had scrambled up and down. By now, his breathing had grown heavy and ragged. His strong, robust arms hung at his sides, and his broad back muscles, illuminated by the ghostly green light behind him, made him look like a life-claiming demon.

“You scared the crap out of me,” Jin Chen gasped, only now realizing it was Tan Xueci. His nerves had been stretched too tight just now; only now did a sudden rush of cold sweat pour down uncontrollably. He cursed under his breath again and said, “f*ck, I was just walking earlier, and without knowing how, I got separated from you guys.

“By the time I snapped out of it, I found myself playing the Four Corners Game with a bunch of ghosts. One of them even had its hand resting on my shoulder!”

Tan Xueci recalled the previous ghost manager. Some ghosts could mimic humans flawlessly, so he didn’t dare to just trust Jin Chen like that.

He sized Jin Chen up for a few moments, then suddenly asked him, “Why were you wearing SpongeBob underwear under your skirt earlier?”

Jin Chen: ???

Jin Chen’s mouth moved faster than his brain. Without even thinking, he snapped furiously, “It was clearly Patrick Star!”

Tan Xueci: “…”

Only then did Tan Xueci let out a sigh of relief. Looking at his reaction, it really was Jin Chen. When Jin Chen had changed into the skirt back at the bar, Tan Xueci had accidentally caught a glimpse of his underwear. A ghost couldn’t possibly know about something like that.

Jin Chen discussed things with Tan Xueci, and they decided to go find the others.

Aside from He Xunye, Tan Xueci’s icy palms were sweating slightly; Xiao Man, whom his other hand had been holding earlier, was also gone.

Jin Chen looked up at the sign for the outpatient clinic nearby. They didn’t seem to be over by the inpatient wards anymore. For some unknown reason, they had run all the way into the outpatient department of the psychiatric clinic.

Fortunately, they both had the paper talismans given by Yu He on their bodies, as well as a few other protective items. Although there were many ghosts in the hospital at night, most of them couldn’t harm them directly.

Jin Chen boldly poked his head into a consultation room to take a look. A ghost doctor wearing a face mask was conducting an examination on a patient. Holding a pair of scissors in his hand, the doctor suddenly raised them and plunged them straight down into the top of the patient’s head, then began to stir. Crimson and white blood mixed with brains slithered down the patient’s face.

In response, the patient’s arm lifted, piercing right through the ghost doctor’s abdomen, ripping out his bloody, dripping intestines.

“Holy shit,” Jin Chen shuddered, drawing closer to Tan Xueci. He whispered, “Are these ghosts out of their minds? What the hell are they doing?”

Recalling what Jin Chen had said just now, Tan Xueci asked curiously, “Your family really consists of Taoist priests for generations?”

How come he had never heard about this before?

“…” Jin Chen coughed dryly, his face hanging a bit loose with embarrassment, but he kept his voice very low. “Wasn’t that just said for the ghosts to hear? What if they can understand human speech? If they hear that my family is full of Taoists, maybe they won’t dare to harm me. Do you get it or not?”

Although most ghosts only seemed capable of scaring people and couldn’t comprehend a single word of human speech, Jin Chen felt that the dead freak from Tan Xueci’s family seemed to possess a slight bit of human nature.

But it was only a slight bit.

Tan Xueci looked at Jin Chen with an expression that defied description, his gaze resembling that of someone looking at an idiot. He was just about to say something when he caught a sound from behind—it sounded like someone was panting heavily as they climbed the stairs.

Both Tan Xueci’s and Jin Chen’s backs tensed up instantly, and they turned their heads at the same time. They had just come up from that stairwell earlier, so they weren’t very far from it right now.

Just as they were backing away, planning to flee, that ghost had already walked up. Its limbs looked incredibly bizarre; its upper body was exceptionally thin, while its lower body was exceptionally bloated.

It was as if there were two ghosts—one whose upper body was gone, and one whose lower body was gone—and they had been crudely pieced together. But the assembly wasn’t sturdy, and its limbs were falling apart all over the place.

Jin Chen: “…”

What in the Frankenstein-assembled ghost is this.

Turning right back around, they started fleeing again. However, several ghosts from the consultation rooms came drifting out, blocking them from both the left and right.

Although there was no other choice now, Tan Xueci yanked open the door to an operating room. Finding nothing inside, he pulled Jin Chen in and looked back out.

Jin Chen shrunk behind Tan Xueci’s shoulders, trembling continuously. Tan Xueci’s fists gradually hardened, and he really wanted to give Jin Chen a slap.

However, before he could decide whether to slap Jin Chen, a slick, blood-red face pressed against the door.

That thing was staring directly at him through the pane of the door.

Tan Xueci’s breath froze in an instant. His brain spun rapidly as he remembered that Yu He had also given them a few small paper dolls. Taking advantage of the moment, he gave Jin Chen a sharp slap and commanded, “Quick, get those paper dolls out.”

Jin Chen was knocked dazed by the slap. In normal times, he would definitely have caused trouble for Tan Xueci, but right now he couldn’t afford to think too much.

He clutched his face, gritting his teeth. Those who knew would think he had been slapped by a gay guy; those who didn’t would think he had been defiled by one. He pulled out the paper dolls and asked, “What do you want this for?”

The small paper dolls Yu He had given them were only the size of a palm—thin pieces of paper cut into little human shapes without any facial features. It was said they could block a single disaster for them.

But unlike the family-inherited jade statue He Sui possessed, it couldn’t act as a substitute for death; at most, it could absorb a single strike of harm.

Tan Xueci took Jin Chen’s paper doll, threw it along with his own onto the operating table, and then told Jin Chen to take off his shoes. He took off his own shoes as well, arranging the two pairs of shoes so that their toes pointed directly toward the bed. Then, he motioned for Jin Chen to join him, each guarding one side as they hid by the doorway.

Tan Xueci had heard before that the tips of your shoes must never be placed pointing toward a bed, otherwise a ghost would follow your guidance and climb onto it.

Just like hearing a ghost calling your name outside a door—you can’t answer, and you can’t open the door. Not all ghosts could harm people indiscriminately; sometimes, they required an invitation from a human.

Whether it was because Yu He’s paper doll substitutes were effective, making the ghost mistakenly believe that he and Jin Chen were on the hospital bed, or because the saying about the shoes pointing at the bed was true, the ghost hesitated for a moment after entering. Then, it ecstatically lunged toward the hospital bed.

Taking advantage of the ghost’s lack of attention, Tan Xueci and Jin Chen rushed out of the operating room at the same time.

The ghost lunged onto the bed, and only after picking up the two paper dolls did it realize it had been tricked. Two lines of bloody tears instantly flowed from its eyes. Its voice turned ice-cold and filled with soaring resentment as it roared and lunged toward the operating room door.

However, as soon as Tan Xueci got out, he slapped several talismans onto the door with loud smacks. The ghost slammed against it violently a few times but couldn’t break through.

Terrified as Tan Xueci was, every time he encountered a ghost, he became unexpectedly calm. The silhouette of the slender youth’s back inexplicably seemed quite tall, and Jin Chen honestly and obediently followed behind Tan Xueci.

Both of their shoes were gone, but fortunately, the floor of the hospital corridor was clean, so walking barefoot wouldn’t cause any injuries.

The ghosts on this floor were becoming more and more densely packed. The stairwell was completely crowded with ghosts, making it impossible to go up or down.

Jin Chen pounded the elevator button forcefully a few times and found that there were no ghosts inside the elevator cabin. He quickly dashed inside, held down the door-open button, and anxiously waved at Tan Xueci, “Come over here!”

Tan Xueci really didn’t want to ride the elevator, but there was no other choice right now. He could only harden his resolve and follow Jin Chen inside.

“This hospital is wicked enough,” Jin Chen said, leaning against the elevator wall. At least there were no ghosts in the cabin, allowing him to relax slightly. He let out a breath, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and neck, and said with lingering fear, “If my mom finds out I ran to this kind of place in the middle of the night, she’ll absolutely beat me to death.”

After he finished speaking, he waited for a long time, but Tan Xueci gave no response whatsoever. Jin Chen raised his head and asked thoroughly puzzled, “What’s wrong?”

Tan Xueci’s back was stiff. His beautiful, slender little face was whiter than the treacherous moonlight tonight, and his eyelashes were trembling fiercely. He refused to lift his head to look at Jin Chen under any circumstances.

“What’s wrong?” The smile on Jin Chen’s face gradually widened. His mouth split open unnaturally, his blood-red lips tearing all the way to the roots of his ears. His ankles also seemed to have twisted 180 degrees, his toes pointing backward and his heels facing forward. His pitch-black, chilling eyes stared dead at Tan Xueci as he said, “Tan Xueci, look at me.”

Tan Xueci didn’t even know when Jin Chen had turned into a ghost—or perhaps he had been a ghost from the very beginning.

This was the first time he had seen a ghost even more disgusting than He Xunye; it actually even knew what kind of underwear Jin Chen wore.

Tan Xueci smashed all his remaining talismans onto Jin Chen’s body. A burst of black smoke instantly erupted from the ghost as it let out a sharp, wretched scream. Tan Xueci took the opportunity to hit the door-open button and ran out of the elevator.

He no longer knew what floor this was; he only cared about burying his head and running forward. The Yin energy on his body was heavy. When his soul had left his body previously, Yu He couldn’t even find his living soul, as even his living soul was pure Yin.

Therefore, Tan Xueci was actually quite fine in this kind of place. Some of the duller ghosts would even mistake him for one of their own.

Tan Xueci successfully muddled his way through a few times without being caught by the ghosts. Before he could find He Xunye and the others, he spotted a small black-and-white patterned kitten ghost up ahead—it was a tuxedo cat.

The kitten ghost was hiding under a chair, shivering violently.

Compared to a human ghost, the kitten’s Yin energy was practically negligible. Coming across the ghost patients in the hospital—even the most ordinary ghost patient—was like a minor ghost bumping into a fierce wraith in red clothing. They weren’t on the same level at all, and it was terrified.

Tan Xueci picked up the kitten ghost and continued to run forward. The taste of blood filled his mouth, and his vision darkened in waves.

The cold night wind blew past, and as he stood in the center of the hospital’s empty main lobby, he suddenly fell into a daze.

How did he end up appearing in this kind of place?

A blanket of blank confusion covered Tan Xueci’s small face. He locked eyes with the kitten ghost in his arms, completely unable to remember what had happened. Furthermore, why were there so many people in the hospital at night?

He looked at the patients beside him, as well as the staff at the registration and payment windows; they all had their heads lowered, their skin a greenish-white.

Tan Xueci thought for a long time, when suddenly, a sharp pain struck his stomach.

He finally remembered. It seemed to be because He Xunye wouldn’t allow him to eat junk food, but he didn’t listen. He had run off to the nightclub to play with Jin Chen and ended up upsetting his stomach. Not daring to let He Xunye find out, he had secretly come to the hospital by himself to see a doctor.

Although He Xunye gave him a lot of money, and didn’t care how he spent it, because he wasn’t very good at counting numbers, every time he finished buying things, he would ask He Xunye how much money he had left.

He Xunye knew his balance. Fearing that He Xunye would discover he had secretly bought medicine, he had stolen the butler’s medical insurance card.

Tan Xueci stood there blankly, reaching into his pocket to grope around. It seemed to be like that, right? But he had lost the butler’s medical insurance card. Whatever, that old geezer anyway.

Tan Xueci felt that his stomach didn’t seem particularly uncomfortable anymore. Holding the kitten ghost, he intended to go home.

The kitten ghost extended its soft paw pad and tapped his face twice, as if wanting him to clear his head, but Tan Xueci didn’t realize anything was wrong at all. He even took a vehicle back home.

It was only when he arrived home that he found things strange. The bedroom door was actually locked. Previously, he would occasionally go out by himself, and if He Xunye didn’t follow him, the ghost would wait for him at the door. It wouldn’t lock the door like this.

Tan Xueci had originally thought He Xunye was angry, but then he discovered the door seemed to be locked from the outside.

He fell dazed once more, then hurriedly opened the door, only to collide with a pale, smiling face shrouded in the deep night behind the door—the face of the fierce ghost.

Tan Xueci wanted to ask why the door was locked, and also wanted to ask why He Xunye hadn’t gone out with him. Yet before he could ask, he heard He Xunye speak. The fierce ghost’s voice was low, distant, and cool as it smiled and said to him, “Little Lamb locked me up, didn’t you?”

Tan Xueci fell into a trance, and only then did he remember. Right, it seemed it was indeed him who had locked He Xunye up.

He wanted to lock He Xunye up, so that he wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore, wouldn’t have to think about whether he was too wicked, or whether he was useless and couldn’t compare to anyone else. Nor would he have to think about how deeply a ghost actually loved him, and whether that love could sustain them through a lifetime.

As long as he locked He Xunye up, He Xunye would belong to him forever. He would be his ghost alone.

Yu He held his peach-wood sword, striding at the very front alongside that Daoist Master Fan.

For some reason, the hospital corridor suddenly went pitch black. His gaze darkened as he warned the others behind him, “Be careful.”

Yet just as he finished speaking, he saw what looked like a massive white shadow slowly passing by up ahead.

It was the Disease Ghost.

Yu He’s expression stiffened, and he hurriedly gave chase. Despite his rapid movements, he still failed to catch up. After searching for a long time to no avail, he had no choice but to head back to look for He Xunye and the others.

The lights in the corridor had already returned to normal, but everyone else had disappeared, leaving only He Xunye and Xiao Man.

Xiao Man seemed a bit afraid of He Xunye. Holding her backpack, she stood in the corner, staring timidly at the tall man.

Yu He blanked for a moment and said, “Where is everyone?”

He Xunye’s long eyelashes cast a thin, cold, dark shadow over the depths of his eyes. He didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled out that doll Tan Xueci had made back in Yanxia Village.

The doll had originally been lying flat in the fierce ghost’s palm. After a brief wait, it suddenly stood up, wobbling with a clicking sound.

It clutched its own stomach, looking exactly like it had ruined its stomach from eating. The black bead eyes that Tan Xueci had sewn on all crooked and slanted inexplicably looked full of sorrow. Then, it went paji and tumbled over.

Weeping and whimpering, it hugged the fierce ghost’s wrist, mimicking Tan Xueci. It couldn’t speak, and after holding it in for a long time, it finally managed to force a tiny, thin wu-wer sound from its throat.

“Bad child,” the fierce ghost sighed softly.

Watching from the side, Yu He was completely bewildered. His hand even twitched with the urge to poke that doll, “What the hell is this thing?”

He Xunye didn’t let him touch it, pulling the doll away. The fierce ghost’s crimson lips curved upward. Very gently, he poked the doll’s forehead, then turned around to leave to find Tan Xueci.

“Hey—” Yu He went blank for a second, wanting to give chase.

However, there was still a Xiao Man next to him whom nobody was looking after. He could only turn back with frustration to bring Xiao Man along.

This wasn’t his kid either. Xiao Man had clearly been following Tan Xueci earlier, yet that dead freak didn’t even say a word about looking after the child.

Yu He could only help them babysit, feeling that his life was incredibly bitter, looking exactly like Dehua.

Tan Xueci had originally still been immersed in the illusion that he had locked He Xunye away. The kitten ghost beside him was scratching at his pant leg, scratching it until the fabric was fraying, but Tan Xueci still hadn’t snapped out of it.

Jie jie jie.

Tan Xueci laughed evilly and silently in his mind. Since He Xunye belonged to him alone, did that mean he could also take the dominant turn with He Xunye, letting He Xunye experience what a physically disciplinary marriage felt like?

He reached out his hand, wanting to cop a feel of He Xunye’s backside. Yet the chillingly melancholic and handsome face of the fierce ghost in front of his eyes seemed to melt into the night, gradually blurring. Tan Xueci also followed with a violent shiver.

It was as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over his head. His vision cleared instantly, and he discovered he was still in the hospital corridor.

The kitten ghost was indeed crouching right beside him, but there was no He Xunye who had been locked up by him at all. There was only the dead freak standing opposite him, looking at him with a half-smile.

He Xunye’s dark, downward-slanted peach-blossom eyes cast a glance at Tan Xueci’s hand, which was only a few centimeters away from his hip. His voice was low and cool, “What are you doing, Little Lamb?”

Tan Xueci snapped his hand back, his snow-white cheeks turning entirely crimson. What should he do? He seemed to have turned into a little pervert.

How could he think about that kind of thing?

He Xunye had found Tan Xueci. On the other side, Yu He had also finally, painstakingly found Jin Chen.

Jin Chen was still playing the Four Corners Game with those few ghosts. When Yu He went over, Jin Chen was standing facing a corner of the wall, looking exceptionally shut-in and depressed.

Yu He slapped his shoulder. Jin Chen’s face was deathly pale, looking as if his essence had been entirely sucked out, and he was still in a daze, about to walk toward the next corner. Only when Yu He delivered a sharp slap to his face did Jin Chen finally snap back to reality.

Clutching both sides of his face, Jin Chen swallowed a stomach full of anger, yet inexplicably didn’t know who to vent it on. He felt as if he had received several massive ear-slaps tonight for no rhyme or reason.

Daoist Master Fan was hauling the hospital director along. The two of them hadn’t gotten separated and quickly rushed over to guide and regroup with them.

“You guys fell into an illusion just now,” Yu He said, pressing a hand to his forehead. “The Yin malice in this hospital is too heavy. It easily deludes a person’s sanity. In the illusion, you’ll see what you desire most or what you fear most.”

The director reached a sudden realization, smacking his own forehead. “No wonder when Daoist Master Fan was pulling me just now, I kept saying I wanted to go to school and didn’t want to leave.”

These past few days, as soon as night fell, he would start sinking into depression, feeling that he shouldn’t have studied medicine in the first place. If he hadn’t studied medicine, he wouldn’t have come to this hospital. If he hadn’t come to this hospital, he wouldn’t have become the director. If he hadn’t become the director, he wouldn’t be encountering ghosts here in the dead of night.

If he could do it all over again, he would definitely change his major and ruthlessly beat up the person who advised him to study medicine.

Confound it all—advising someone to study medicine draws divine retribution.

Yu He formed a hand seal, reciting the Heart-Clearing Incantation several times. Finally, they saw that ghost doctor up ahead.

The moment the ghost doctor saw them, its face turned pale to the absolute extreme. Its gaze fell upon Daoist Master Fan, looking as if it had seen something incredibly terrifying. It suddenly let out a miserable laugh, then without any warning, crashed straight into the evil-expelling bronze bell held in the other’s hand. For a moment, the bronze bell let out a deep, resounding chime like a drum.

Yu He didn’t have time to stop it. He froze in place with astonishment, watching helplessly as that ghost shattered in soul and scattered in form, entirely obliterated into ash and smoke.

“This…” The director was also stunned, his voice trembling as he said, “This is…”

Although it was a good thing this ghost was dead, there were still so many ghosts in his hospital, and they couldn’t figure out exactly how they had gotten here. He had originally wanted to halt Doctor Li’s soul to ask a few questions.

Daoist Master Fan leisurely put away the bronze bell, let out a cold laugh, and looked toward Yu He. “If your execution of the craft is unrefined, don’t leave the mountain just to disgrace your master. Consider today a lesson from this poor Daoist.”

Tan Xueci was also bewildered. But he felt that Doctor Li had recovered a bit of his sanity just now; why would he suddenly commit suicide?

He felt there were a thousand tangled threads to this matter, yet they wouldn’t connect together no matter what. This Daoist Master Fan was also quite strange.

Yu He’s face darkened. He originally wanted to question Daoist Master Fan, but the peach-wood sword in his hand suddenly began to vibrate violently. His expression turned solemn instantly as he said in a deep voice, “Not good!”

The talismans he had posted in Old Man Wang’s ward were reacting. Something might have happened over there, and it was very severe.

They didn’t delay any further, rushing toward the ward. The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the deep night hospital. Before they even reached the door of the ward, they could see from afar a tall silhouette entirely covered in white fur, lowering its head as it slowly tried to enter the ward.

Those talismans had already turned black piece by piece, completely unable to block the massive Disease Ghost.

Lu Qi was almost scared to death. He had never seen this kind of monster before—even its face was covered in white fur. He shook with terror, shrieking as he locked into a tight hug with Wang勇 (Wang Yong).

It wasn’t until he felt his pant leg seemed wet that he violently pushed Wang Yong away, his face turning incredibly dark.

This guy had actually pissed himself from fear again. His kidneys really weren’t up to par.

“Halt!” Yu He gave a furious shout, raising his sword as he took the lead to charge toward the Disease Ghost.

Daoist Master Fan didn’t fight him for the lead this time. He seemed to have only intended to capture that ghost doctor, caring nothing for the rest.

“Ah ah ah ah ah!!!” Wang Yong wept with mucus and tears flowing. He felt they were absolutely done for. A ghost this large, whose head completely pressed against the ceiling, could swallow the three of them up in a single bite.

He had been afraid of ghosts since childhood. He couldn’t even help drawing closer to Old Man Wang. Even though he knew Old Man Wang had already developed a mental illness and sometimes couldn’t even recognize him as his son, he still said in a trembling voice, “Dad…”

Old Man Wang had been lying down out of spite ever since Tan Xueci told him he couldn’t see anyone in the corner. Only now did he brace his body to sit up. His hair was already grizzled, and his old, clouded eyes lifted to look at the Disease Ghost.

“Dad…” Wang Yong grabbed the old man’s arm, shivering violently as he hid to the side. “What do we do, Dad…”

He was already over thirty years old, had his own job, and could normally take out a portion of his earnings to pay for the old man’s medical treatments. When Old Man Wang threw tantrums and refused to take his medicine, saying he could see strange things, he would even feel that Old Man Wang was causing too much trouble and wasn’t considerate of his children, subsequently pointing at Old Man Wang’s nose and cursing about how exhausted he was.

But when a real incident occurred, he couldn’t help but turn a reliant gaze toward his already elderly father.

Old Man Wang ignored him, seemingly not afraid of that Disease Ghost at all. When Tan Xueci and the others arrived at the door of the ward, they heard Old Man Wang suddenly call out in a trembling voice, “Shuzhen…”

Wang Yong blanked. Shuzhen was his mother’s name. His mother had already passed away from illness three years ago.

He thought the old man had suffered another episode of his illness. He was scared, yet his heart couldn’t help but feel incredibly annoyed.

The reason Old Man Wang listened to that “Emotion Master” radio show every day was actually because Old Man Wang’s wife used to listen to it constantly. Every time she bickered and argued with him, she would turn on the Emotion Master, starting to broadcast throughout the house things about old men hanging themselves on the wall and not bathing despite being old.

Old Man Wang didn’t like listening to it. One time, he left the house out of spite, wandering around outside for over an hour before returning home. When he got home, he found his wife collapsed on the floor, already devoid of breath. It was a sudden myocardial infarction.

If someone had been home at the time, she might have been saved, but by the time Old Man Wang returned, her corpse had already begun to turn cold.

If only he hadn’t left the house. It was just listening to some Emotion Master show; what did he have to be angry about?

At that time, Wang Yong originally wanted Old Man Wang to live with their family, but Old Man Wang was unwilling. He lived alone at home for a year, his brain growing increasingly muddled. When he called Wang Yong, he would always say, “Son, I saw your mom at home.”

Wang Yong had no choice but to send Old Man Wang to the hospital, where he was subsequently diagnosed with schizophrenia.

Tan Xueci pursed his lips. He knew Old Man Wang’s wife had died, because previously when he called home at night from the hospital, not a single person paid him any mind; nobody would pick up. He had hidden under the blanket secretly crying, and was subsequently discovered by Old Man Wang.

Old Man Wang had then patted his shoulder, sat down by his bedside, and lowered his head to ask what he was crying about.

Tan Xueci liked to play pitiful, but he didn’t play it in front of just anyone. An old man in the same ward—once he was discharged, he wouldn’t see him ever again. What use was there in playing pitiful?

He didn’t want anyone to see his face flushed red from crying, feeling it was very embarrassing, so he stubbornly hid under the blanket without making a sound.

“This child,” Old Man Wang didn’t get angry, but instead smiled, saying of him, “Your temper is quite stubborn.”

Tan Xueci still ignored him.

Old Man Wang then patted his shoulder again and said, “Don’t cry anymore, don’t cry anymore. Come eat some ribs.”

He picked up a thermos bucket, placing it beside Tan Xueci’s pillow. The rich, meaty aroma of the ribs kept forcing its way into his nose.

Tan Xueci’s cool, white, upturned nose tip twitched a few times. Saliva flooded his mouth. Ultimately, he couldn’t hold back, wiping away his tears as he crawled out from under the blanket with a dry expression.

“Tasty, right?” Old Man Wang watched him eat, saying with a beaming smile, “Your aunt made all of this.”

Tan Xueci was bewildered. He remembered that he seemed to have heard Wang Yong chatting with the nurses, mentioning that Old Man Wang’s wife had already died. But the old man was a mental patient just like him; how could one believe the words of a mental patient?

“I used to love crying a lot when I was young too,” Old Man Wang leaned against the head of the bed, the old and the young squeezing onto a single bed. He lifted his head and said, “My dad had an exceptionally bad temper and always beat me. My courage was exceptionally small; aside from crying, I didn’t know how to do anything else. One time during night school, I sat in the very last row secretly crying, and was spotted by her. She just kept comforting me.”

Tan Xueci was very wicked, so he felt Old Man Wang was showing off to him—showing off that he still had someone to comfort him, whereas he had no one.

“You’ll encounter someone too,” Old Man Wang ruffed his head, saying with a beaming smile, “Me, I can read faces. My readings are accurate every single time. You’ll definitely have a good marriage destiny in the future.”

Tan Xueci didn’t believe his nonsense at all.

Old Man Wang usually couldn’t find anyone to chat with either; everyone else treated him as a mental patient. He had used a thermos bucket of ribs to firmly crowd-control the little sheep, and subsequently began to chatter continuously with Tan Xueci.

He and his wife had attended the same night school back then. That Emotion Master was actually their classmate.

When they were at school, he was just like a demi-immortal, loving to act as a matchmaker all day long. Back then, things like horoscopes and constellations hadn’t become popular yet, and most people didn’t know about them. But that demi-immortal spent all day talking about constellations, even telling their fortunes.

“I observed the stars at night,” the demi-immortal counted on his fingers, raising an eyebrow as he said, “Your two constellations are an absolute match!”

In that era, everyone was very reserved. Once he finished speaking, the youth and maiden in front of him exchanged a glance, both turning red-faced and shy.

When they got married, they even invited the demi-immortal. They had originally agreed to live together until at least eighty years old—ideally a hundred years old. Who knew they would be separated so early?

“Shuzhen…” Old Man Wang struggled to get up from the hospital bed, extending his hand to pull at that white-furred ghost. The closer he got, the more grey and defeated his face became. His sickly aura grew visibly heavier, yet his voice carried a sob as he still extended his hand, “Shuzhen…”

The ward window wasn’t closed tightly. The cold wind swept through the entire ward, also blowing open a portion of the white fur blocking the Disease Ghost’s face.

The Disease Ghost’s entire face was pale and bloated, looking as if it had been soaked in water for several days and nights. Yet Tan Xueci blanked for a moment; the features between the entity’s brows faintly revealed a familiar appearance.

Old Man Wang had shown him a photo of his wife.

It turned out Old Man Wang’s wife had become the Disease Ghost after she died.

“I kept saying she hadn’t left,” Old Man Wang’s tears surged out. “How could she bear to cast me aside…”

Yu He’s eyes were dark and grim. Looking at Old Man Wang’s increasingly elderly, decaying face, he lifted his peach-wood sword and stabbed toward the Disease Ghost. But what he never expected was that he would stab into a living person’s body instead.

Old Man Wang had found a sudden burst of strength from somewhere, stumbling forward to throw himself onto the Disease Ghost, blocking his peach-wood sword.

Everyone froze in place.

“…” Yu He’s lips trembled. He blanked for a moment, almost utterly infuriated, “Clear your head! She is already dead!”

He understood the difference between ghosts and humans best. Back then, that Painted Skin Ghost had harmed his mother to death, then donned his mother’s skin to kill his father. But that wasn’t the most painful part.

After his parents died, he was taken in by a Daoist temple. After studying at the temple for over half a year, he secretly ran out, wanting to find his mother’s soul and her remaining remains.

The Painted Skin Ghost had only taken the skin, casting his mother’s flesh and bones out into the wilderness.

He hadn’t expected that not only would he find the remains, but he would also find his mother’s soul wandering outside.

In the beginning, his mother had held him and cried very bitterly. He felt that even if she was a ghost, it didn’t matter; he wanted to be together with his mother.

Until a certain night, he opened his eyes in the middle of the night and suddenly saw his mother’s greenish-white face brought close to his pillow, watching him. Her blood-red nails almost poked into his face. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, that fierce ghost shrieked and charged at him.

She wanted to kill him.

Even if they were blood relatives, once someone turned into a fierce ghost after death, they would no longer possess human nature.

Showing a soft heart toward these ghostly abnormalities would only make oneself suffer more pain.

“It’s fine, little Daoist master,” Old Man Wang, however, still blocked the front of the Disease Ghost, refusing to move aside. Blood began to flow from his nose and mouth, yet he was still comforting Yu He, saying, “I’m over sixty years old; I’ve lived enough. She was strong-willed all her life, but actually her courage was the smallest. Previously when she got off the night shift, it was always me who went to pick her up. Let me go accompany her again.”

The hospital nights were so dark; walking around all by herself, how scared must she be?

He embraced that Disease Ghost, his entire body entangled by strands of white sickly aura.

They gradually merged into one. The Disease Ghost’s form grew increasingly massive and bloated, to the point where it couldn’t even stand straight in the ward.

Yu He’s peach-wood sword wasn’t sharp; it could only kill ghosts, not humans. Old Man Wang had drawn too close to the Disease Ghost, entangled to death by it.

“…” Wang Yong was entirely dazed. It wasn’t until Old Man Wang’s face gradually turned greenish-white, even being wrapped into the Disease Ghost’s body, that he suddenly snapped back to his senses, shouting heart-wrenchingly, “Dad!”

At his home, his mother had always been the one in charge. His dad listened to his mom in everything. He had also been exceptionally afraid of his mother. It wasn’t until his mother passed away that he suddenly slacked off, feeling he was liberated, and frequently opened his mouth to curse at the old man. But actually, his father had always been very gentle toward him.

In a split second, Wang Yong couldn’t even care about being afraid anymore, throwing himself forward to try to tear Old Man Wang down. But Old Man Wang’s flesh, skin, and internal organs had already fused together with the Disease Ghost; tearing him off forcefully would also result in death.

Yu He held the man back, his chest heaving violently as he looked at the massive Disease Ghost in front of him. In the night wind, the Disease Ghost’s white fur drifted loosely, looking snowy white yet desolate.

Everyone else was so shocked by the scene before their eyes that they couldn’t make a sound. Only Xiao Man, seeing the kitten in Tan Xueci’s arms, suddenly cried out in pleasant surprise, “Mommy!”

Tan Xueci blanked for a moment. Xiao Man had already run over to him, carefully reaching out her hands to take the kitten from his arms.

“Xiao Man!”

Yu He had taken a moment to send a message to Xiao Man’s father. Xiao Man’s father hurriedly drove over, calling out to his daughter.

“Daddy!” Xiao Man’s eyes were very bright as she lifted the kitten to show her father, saying, “I found Mommy!”

But as Xiao Man’s father looked at his daughter, an abrupt grief struck his eyes. When the others turned their heads, they were also struck with astonishment.

Perhaps because the Yin energy on the Disease Ghost was too heavy, it had affected Xiao Man. Xiao Man’s skin color gradually turned into a deathly, stagnant greenish-white. Corpse spots surfaced on her small face, and black blood surged out from her chest.

A massive hole had been gouged into her chest, her heart having been carved away.

The kitten ghost let out a soft meow in her arms, extending its tongue to lick the girl’s face, which was covered in corpse spots.

It wasn’t actually Xiao Man’s mother; it was merely a kitten Xiao Man’s mother had fed during her lifetime.

Her mother had agreed with Xiao Man that once she finished work, she would bring the kitten home to raise. As a result, when she left the school around ten o’clock at night, she was dragged into an alleyway and brutally murdered, her tongue even being cut out.

The kitten had seen it from atop a trash can lid, leaping onto the killer’s head wanting to bite him, subsequently being ripped down by the man, stabbed once in the stomach, and thrown into the trash can.

A kitten ghost’s obsession usually wasn’t strong; wandering for a few days, it would go to be reincarnated. But during those few days, Xiao Man kept running to the vicinity of the school to look for her mother, so it had followed Xiao Man.

It had originally wanted her to go home, but it was already too late. Xiao Man had also been caught by someone, her heart gouged out.

Xiao Man’s father knelt on the ground and wept out loud. He had actually known long ago that Xiao Man was already dead, but Xiao Man herself didn’t seem to know, and he couldn’t bear to puncture Xiao Man’s illusion under any circumstances.

He couldn’t bear to part with her, fearing she would be scared, and fearing she would leave him. Within a few days, he had consecutively lost his wife and his daughter.

For a time, the hospital was filled entirely with the sound of weeping. To call it a living hell would not be an exaggeration. The director’s tears surged out, and even Jin Chen and Lu Qi lowered their heads with reddened eyes, remaining silent.

Only He Xunye watched coldly from the sidelines, the corners of his lips even bearing a smile, as if he found tonight exceptionally amusing.

It was rare to come across something so interesting.

Tan Xueci lifted his head blankly, looking at the Disease Ghost that was even more massive than before, the helpless Xiao Man, and the few people kneeling on the ground weeping bitterly. His chest felt heavy in waves.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He Xunye, seeing Tan Xueci’s face was deathly pale, reached out his hand to brush his small face.

“I…” Tan Xueci said, “I hurt a little…”

He Xunye blanked for a moment, still thinking he had pushed him too hard last night. Tan Xueci hadn’t said anything during the day, so he had thought it was fine. He reached out his hand wanting to feel Tan Xueci’s backside, yet the moment he lowered his head, he collided with Tan Xueci’s thoroughly drenched, red-rimmed eyes.

The youth’s tears flowed down along his pale cheeks.

His own chest also suddenly followed with a pang of pain.

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