Chapter 70: Thinking of a Man

Tan Xueci didn’t know what he was thinking either. Perhaps he simply wanted to bully He Xunye; if he couldn’t top him, doing something else was fine too.

He originally thought He Xunye would refuse, but He Xunye didn’t. He even took the initiative to nudge him with his high nose bridge.

He Xunye hadn’t expected that such a soft place could actually make someone suffocate. Tan Xueci hadn’t thought about it either, because a dead ghost didn’t need to breathe, and would always coax him to use a bit more force each time.

Outside, the sound of fireworks and firecrackers continued intermittently without pause. Tan Xueci’s breathing went soft, his entire body breaking out in a thin layer of sweat. He gripped the youth’s dark hair tightly, refusing to let the other party hide.

Of course, He Xunye had no intention of hiding away either.

When Tan Xueci finally released his grip, he lowered his head to look, meeting the youth’s dark, wet eyes.

Tan Xueci’s cheeks instantly erupted into a furious blush. Belatedly realizing what he had just done, he scrambled and rolled away to distance himself.

He Xunye sat up. His inner robes had been thoroughly disheveled by Tan Xueci, exposing a patch of pectoral muscles that had been rubbed slightly red. The youth let out a few low, raspy coughs. His pale face was covered in wet streaks, droplets of water sliding along his long eyelashes, and his lips were flushed to the absolute extreme. His jet-black hair wound over his shoulders and back, several locks carrying a damp moisture.

He stared at Tan Xueci, who had abandoned him to hide far away, his long eyelashes lowered as he remained silent. Droplets of water rolled down his excessively long eyelashes, tracing along his jaw and Adam’s apple before flowing into the valley of his chest muscles.

Tan Xueci felt a pang of guilt in his conscience, feeling as though he had violated the poor guy only to cast him to the back of his mind.

He approached hesitantly, kneeling beside He Xunye, and cupped He Xunye’s face to wipe it dry.

He Xunye lifted his head to glance at him, then buried his face in Tan Xueci’s palms and nudged against them. His straight nose bridge pressed against the soft flesh of Tan Xueci’s palm; the nose bridge was very high, and grinding against it felt exceptionally satisfying.

Tan Xueci bit his lip, the tips of his pale ears flushing red. He lightly patted He Xunye’s face, telling him to stop rubbing around blindly.

While he was wiping He Xunye’s face, He Xunye kept his eyes fixed on him. Tan Xueci felt his face grow hot under the gaze. Just as he wanted to lift his hand to cover He Xunye’s eyes, the window—which hadn’t been closed tightly—was nudged by the night wind, blowing the candle out and plunging the meditation room into darkness.

Tan Xueci felt He Xunye’s body instantly tense up slightly, instinctively drawing closer to him. The movement was actually very subtle, but he still noticed it, reaching out to pull He Xunye into his embrace.

He Xunye was built quite large, making it rather exhausting to hold him. Tan Xueci patted He Xunye’s head, letting He Xunye rest against his shoulder, and said to him, “It’s fine. I’ll go relight the lamp.”

The candlestick was placed on a small wooden table a little over a meter away from them. Tan Xueci couldn’t reach it, so he pushed He Xunye away slightly. He then felt He Xunye lean over from behind him in the darkness, wrapping his arms around his waist again and resting against his back.

“Hubby,” Tan Xueci turned his head, lowering his voice into a ghostly whisper, “I think there’s a ghost in this room.”

“…”

The youth paused, his dark phoenix eyes lifting, appearing blurred and indistinct in the darkened room.

His voice was already thoroughly hoarse, and un-dried moisture still lingered on his lips. He looked around and asked, “What ghost?”

How come he hadn’t sensed anything?

A coward of a ghost, that’s what, Tan Xueci thought to himself.

He Xunye seemed to realize he had been teased. He fixed a dark, heavy gaze on him without letting go until Tan Xueci relit the candle. Only then did the youth nonchalantly release his grip and sit back.

A knock sounded on the door of the meditation room. He Xunye casually gathered his collar, standing up to open the door. It was the monk who frequently came to find them.

The temple was keeping a night vigil tonight and had prepared some dried fruits and the like. Seeing that the lamp was still lit on He Xunye’s side, the monk assumed they hadn’t slept yet and came over to deliver some. He hadn’t expected He Xunye to have his long hair loose and his clothing disheveled, looking as though he had just gotten up.

Fortunately, he was facing a monk from the temple—one who practiced pure, austere cultivation at that. Otherwise, seeing the youth’s rubbed-red lips and the lingering desire beneath his eyes, anyone could tell they had definitely just done something to defile the Buddhist sanctuary.

“Junior Brother,” the monk asked in bewilderment, “why is your hair wet?”

“…” He Xunye didn’t answer. His voice carrying a raspy tone, the youth accepted the food box and asked, “Is there anything else?”

Seeing that He Xunye was unwilling to pay him any mind, the monk didn’t press further. He offered a Buddhist salute and hurriedly departed.

Aside from vegetarian meals, He Xunye ate absolutely nothing else. In fact, he didn’t even eat much of the vegetarian meals; his appetite was only a third of Tan Xueci’s. Tan Xueci had no idea how he managed to grow so tall.

He Xunye never stayed up late either, and he had already lain down to sleep.

Tan Xueci kept his eyes wide open, rustling beneath the covers as he munched on the dried fruits. As he ate, he began to miss his big hubby a little. Why hadn’t He Xunye come to find him yet?

Tan Xueci had already stayed at Qilian Temple for over a month. He could be certain that the flow of time in this place was definitely different from the outside world. Otherwise, if that dead ghost hadn’t managed to find him after so long, he would be far too incompetent.

The rustling nearby suddenly ceased. He Xunye opened his eyes, turning his head to meet Tan Xueci’s somewhat deflated face. The youth’s tone was cold and detached as he asked him, “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking about a man,” Tan Xueci replied honestly.

He Xunye: “…”

The youth’s long eyelashes flickered, and the rims of his ears seemed to flush slightly red, unable to comprehend how someone could be so blatant. His Adam’s apple bobbed abruptly several times, but his expression uncontrollably darkened. He turned away coldly, ignoring him entirely.

Tan Xueci: “…”

What are you putting on an act for?

Tan Xueci spent his days waiting, but instead of his big hubby, Yue Tongzhou came back again, saying that the child still hadn’t left.

“He’s not crying anymore,” Yue Tongzhou said with a bitter face, “but he just stares at me while I sleep. The moment I open my eyes, I see two black holes right above me.”

Fortunately, he didn’t suffer from any heart conditions, otherwise he would have been scared to death several times over by now. He had developed a psychological trauma toward sleeping altogether.

Accompanying him were the young boy’s parents, their faces also filled with sorrow as they begged He Xunye, “Young Master, please help us. Our son keeps crying at night and can’t sleep well at all. Is there something filthy in our house?”

Tan Xueci listened for a good while before finally understanding the situation. This family had two sons. The one who died was the eldest, named Xiao Xuan, and they had a second son who was barely over a year old this year.

Tan Xueci’s expression turned a bit strange. What filthy thing could be in their house? Having just lost a son, the way they phrased it made it sound as if that child had turned into something foul and had returned to haunt them.

The young boy’s parents wept and wailed, constantly imploring He Xunye, “Young Master, we know you are deeply kind-hearted, and we are doing this for the sake of the child. We adults can handle staying up, but how can a child survive crying every single day without sleep? He will definitely fall ill.”

Yue Tongzhou had likely listened to Old Master Zhang’s advice prior to coming. He didn’t cry or complain to He Xunye, directly producing a stack of cash instead. His heart practically bled as he pulled the money out.

He had only become a full lawyer a few years ago, so pulling out a hundred thousand yuan all at once was genuinely painful. However, if he didn’t offer money, He Xunye wouldn’t involve himself.

“Accept it,” He Xunye glanced at Tan Xueci, signaling him to put the money away, before standing up to tell Yue Tongzhou, “Take me to their home to take a look. We will discuss further after that.”

Tan Xueci scooped up the money and followed behind He Xunye.

Xiao Xuan’s home didn’t look very wealthy, located within a dilapidated tenement building. The moment they stepped upstairs, they could hear a child’s wailing. Xiao Xuan’s grandmother was cradling his younger brother, trying to coax him. The toddler’s face was flushed red from crying, but he still wailed at the top of his lungs without stopping.

He Xunye raised his hand, not touching the child directly but letting his palm hover over his forehead from a short distance. The child’s wailing gradually subsided, and he drifted off to sleep.

Xiao Xuan’s parents exchanged a glance, recognizing that this was someone with true capability. They hurriedly led He Xunye into the bedroom, saying, “This is the room we sleep in at night.”

He Xunye walked inside. The youth’s back beneath his monk robes appeared lean and upright as he surveyed the surroundings, instructing, “Flip the bedboard up.”

“This…” Xiao Xuan’s father looked at He Xunye’s youth, harboring a lingering sense of doubt after all. This bedboard was incredibly heavy, and flipping the entire bed over would require immense effort. Could he be playing a prank on them?

He Xunye’s brow furrowed slightly, and he turned around, intending to leave immediately. Yue Tongzhou quickly stepped forward to stop him.

“Don’t, don’t, don’t,” Yue Tongzhou rolled up his sleeves, “I’ll move it.”

Left with no choice, Xiao Xuan’s father could only assist him. Once the bedboard was flipped over, everyone’s breathing turned heavy with absolute terror.

The underside of this bedboard was covered in dense, crowded bloody handprints, looking exactly like a child’s.

“Master,” Xiao Xuan’s mother was terrified out of her wits. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she clutched her child and hid together with her mother-in-law, begging He Xunye, “Hurry up and exorcise it!”

“The one it is looking for is you all,” the youth turned around, his red lips parting as he spoke in an incredibly indifferent tone, though a cold smile remained at the corners of his mouth. “What does it have to do with me?”

Xiao Xuan’s mother was named Wang Caiping. She hadn’t expected He Xunye to suddenly speak to her like this—so freezing cold and laced with mockery. Unable to save face, she instantly grew highly displeased.

She knit her brows, wanting to demand what exactly he had come here for then, but she was held back by her husband.

Her husband was named Song Qiang, a man who possessed a few underhanded schemes. He shot a meaningful look at his wife before producing three thousand yuan and offering it to He Xunye, saying with an air of deep remorse, “We don’t have much money, unlike the grand wealth of the He family. I know the Young Master isn’t someone who loves money, but this is the rule of the trade—to communicate with ghosts and gods, one must offer a passage fee. We have prepared it, so please accept it, Young Master!”

He believed that by phrasing it this way, He Xunye would certainly show them consideration. The He family was already so wealthy that they didn’t lack their few thousands or tens of thousands; there was simply no need to bicker with them over it.

To his surprise, He Xunye merely swept a glance over the three thousand yuan in his hand, twirled his Buddhist beads, and said, “Not enough.”

“Not… not enough?” Song Qiang almost thought he had misheard. However, left with no choice and not wishing to offend He Xunye, he could only grit his teeth and produce another two thousand yuan.

He Xunye’s eyelashes lowered as he closed his eyes, not even looking this time. His thin lips parted slightly as he said, “I want three million.”

Hearing this figure, Wang Caiping looked as though she had been scared out of her mind, her eyes instantly flashing with a furious glare toward He Xunye.

Song Qiang froze, utterly unable to hold back any longer. The veins on the back of his hands bulged as he felt that He Xunye was entirely making a mockery of them. Otherwise, why would he only accept a hundred thousand from Yue Tongzhou, yet turn around and demand three million from them?!

“Master He,” Song Qiang’s face darkened, his voice carrying a heavy note of anger, “what is the meaning of this? Why don’t you just go rob a bank instead?”

He wouldn’t be able to earn three million even if he worked for a lifetime.

He Xunye lifted his head. The youth’s dark eyes were cold and arrogant, paying him no further mind as he turned around and walked away.

Before leaving, Tan Xueci stole a glance toward the toddler’s face; it appeared sickly pale, faintly enshrouded by an aura of death.

He returned to Qilian Temple with He Xunye. That very evening, they heard someone weeping and shouting curses outside Qilian Temple, creating quite a tumultuous scene.

Going out to take a look, it turned out to be Song Qiang and his wife, Wang Caiping.

Wang Caiping was sitting on the ground, slapping her thighs as she wailed, cradling a child in her arms. Song Qiang was also pointing at the main gates of Qilian Temple, continuously bellowing curses, “Tell that person surnamed He to get out here!”

Gradually, a large crowd of pilgrims gathered to watch, and the monks of Qilian Temple also stepped out, fearing they would incite a riot.

“No one forced you if you didn’t want to exorcise the ghost, but what is the meaning of causing my son’s death?” Song Qiang roared in fury. “Your He family must pay with a life for this murder!”

Tan Xueci cast a glance into Wang Caiping’s arms; that child had indeed died, his small face turned a purplish-red color.

The night sky was thick and dark, casting its shadow over the stone steps before the mountain temple. The youth stood tall and elegant, his monk robes fluttering in the night wind, making his figure appear somewhat lean as he said detachedly, “What does it have to do with me?”

“How can it not have anything to do with you?!” Song Qiang’s eyes were completely bloodshot, looking as though he had wept the entire night. “It was you who touched my son’s head! The perfectly fine child died right after you touched him! If it wasn’t your doing, who else could it be?!”

“A perfectly fine child?” He Xunye looked toward him, his dark pupils narrowing as he let out a cold laugh. “Was he not already sick a few days ago?”

Choked by his words, Song Qiang’s momentum instantly weakened by several degrees.

It was true; the child had begun vomiting and suffering from diarrhea a few days ago, running a persistent high fever that even the hospital couldn’t remedy.

They had originally intended to find a temple to offer prayers. It just so happened that Yue Tongzhou, having encountered a ghost, had run over to their house. Upon hearing about their situation, they had followed Yue Tongzhou to Qilian Temple.

There had been far too many ghost encounters over the past few years, especially this year; absolutely no one dared to step out after ten o’clock at night, terrified of bringing something back with them. Because of this, Feng Shui families like the He family gradually became well-known, and he had heard of He Xunye before.

“And what about you?” He Xunye then looked toward Yue Tongzhou. “Do you truly not know why that child came to look for you?”

Standing to the side, Yue Tongzhou’s face was deathly pale. He stammered, not daring to speak, but he actually did know.

Song Qiang and Wang Caiping had come from the village to work as laborers. After giving birth to Xiao Xuan, they left him to be raised by the elderly in the village. It wasn’t until he was over eight years old, when they gave birth to another child in the city, that things changed.

Song Qiang had to work his shift, and Wang Caiping also had to take on odd jobs. They couldn’t manage the infant by themselves, and thinking that Xiao Xuan was already old enough to help out, they brought him to the city under the guise of wanting him to attend school there. In reality, it was to have him look after the infant.

They possessed no deep affection for Xiao Xuan, naturally taking care of the younger brother far more in their daily lives. Whenever they spoke to Xiao Xuan, it was almost always to yell at him to feed the baby or change his diapers.

Xiao Xuan deeply envied the other classmates in his school who could play soccer outside. When he told Wang Caiping that he wanted to go too, Wang Caiping fiercely scolded him, “All you know is play all day long! What use is there in raising you?!”

The very next day, Xiao Xuan leaped from the school building. The surrounding classmates were thoroughly startled, completely failing to pull him back in time.

Once the child died, Song Qiang and Wang Caiping ran to the school to cause a scene, claiming the school had failed to look after their child properly.

The school stated they were willing to offer one million yuan in compensation, but they deemed it too little and refused, seeking out a lawyer to file a lawsuit—which led them to him.

Initially, he hadn’t known the underlying reason for Xiao Xuan’s leap. Song Qiang and the others kept claiming that Xiao Xuan couldn’t adapt after transferring to the school in the city, and because the child’s psychological state was too fragile, he had jumped.

The classmates also mentioned that Xiao Xuan was highly solitary, and the teachers noted that the child’s grades were quite poor and his hygiene left much to be desired. Though it wasn’t stated explicitly, he was truly a child from whom no merits could be found.

Thus, he believed that was indeed the case.

In the end, the school compensated three million yuan through the lawsuit.

It wasn’t until he occasionally overheard several older women chatting in the tenement building that he learned Wang Caiping frequently beat and scolded the child, harboring extreme favoritism.

Although being a lawyer was merely a profession that theoretically carried no personal emotions, Yue Tongzhou’s heart still felt incredibly complicated.

Wang Caiping and her husband hadn’t caused a scene with the school out of heartache for the child; they did it solely to extract more money to purchase an apartment.

Yue Tongzhou wiped his face and said, “He probably held a grudge against me. After all, during that period, I was the one handling matters at the school on behalf of his parents. Perhaps he viewed me as one of the people who harmed him.”

Tan Xueci: “…”

A cold son transformed into a warm set of numbers.

To people like Wang Caiping, grief might exist, but it wouldn’t linger for long.

Yet Xiao Xuan actually hadn’t hated his younger brother, because only his brother would babble and smile at him, never suddenly shouting curses at him.

Feeling deeply wronged and not knowing who to turn to for comfort, he only recognized Yue Tongzhou. Thus, he went to look for him, hoping that someone in this world would hear his cries and recognize his grievance.

Afterward, he returned home to find his brother. He hadn’t intended to harm him; slapping the bedboard was merely his way of wanting to play with his brother.

However, he was a ghost after all. An infant’s constitution was weak, falling ill and passing away under the stimulation of his ghostly aura.

The surrounding onlookers all looked at Wang Caiping and her husband, shaking their heads.

Song Qiang instantly grew frantic, pointing at He Xunye as he shouted, “Is it not all because of your harm? If you hadn’t drawn so many ghosts here, would my son have jumped from the building? There is no overnight grudge between a mother and son; she merely scolded him a few words, it must have been a ghost that lured him down!”

Their emotions grew increasingly volatile, and the monks of Qilian Temple stepped forward, blocking them to prevent them from causing a riot inside the temple.

“If you don’t have a guilty conscience,” Wang Caiping shoved against those few monks, her hair disheveled and her face covered in tears as she let out a gut-wrenching wail before shrieking, “why do you stay guard at Qilian Temple to save us?! wasn’t your sister’s child also harmed to death by you?!”

This single sentence from Wang Caiping struck a chord in the hearts of many people. Particularly some of the elderly, who knew that ghost hauntings hadn’t just begun over these past few years. Moreover, it wasn’t restricted to the capital either; it was merely that it could still be controlled before. Since the years around He Xunye’s birth, the hauntings had broken out with terrifying ferocity.

It was as if someone had flung open the gates of hell; countless individuals were harmed to death by fierce ghosts, becoming fierce ghosts themselves after passing away.

When they begged He Xunye to handle matters, it was fine for him to accept money, but he was freezing cold and sinister every single time, occasionally uttering a few curses. He was entirely different from the rest of the He family.

There were also rumors claiming that He Pinglan had once given birth to a child, and that child had been killed by a ghost right within its swaddling clothes. At that time, He Xunye had been standing right beside it, yet he turned a blind eye.

He Pinglan was his own biological sister, and that was his own nephew. How could a human being do such a thing?

Gradually, people began to murmur that He Xunye was a malicious ghost reincarnated. How could anyone possess such pale skin and such pitch-black eyes, looking exactly like a specter? As for the fire within He Xunye’s hand, it might very well be a ghostly flame.

He Xunye was actually an evil ghost. The He family knew they had given birth to an evil ghost that brought harm to everyone, and carrying a sense of guilt, they had suppressed He Xunye within Qilian Temple with the assistance of Master Xuan Shen, forcing him to exorcise ghosts to atone for their sins.

Everyone outside Qilian Temple exchanged glances. However, many among them had lost their parents or children to ghosts, and under the instigation, they gradually shifted their stance. Could it truly be the case?

If He Xunye hadn’t been forcibly suppressed, why would he choose to save them even if he had to be torn and bitten by ghosts until he was drenched in blood?

He Xunye certainly didn’t look like someone possessed of such deep compassion.

“My son as well!” A middle-aged man suddenly stepped out and roared in fury. “He merely let him cast a glance over him, and he died right after returning home!”

Someone nearby scratched his head, asking in confusion, “Didn’t your son die only after you brought him to see a spirit medium?”

His son had fallen ill and entered a vegetative state. He sought out a spirit medium for fortune-telling, who claimed his son’s body was invaded by a ghost and that blood must be drawn to let the ghost out, instructing him to chop off his son’s limbs and insert him into a rice barrel. The blacker the blood soaked the rice, the cleaner the ghost was driven away.

He followed the instructions. Initially, his son finally showed a reaction, opening his eyes and letting out raspy cries, but he breathed his last that very night.

The man stammered, unable to find words, before snapping purely in a fit of rage, “Bullshit!”

Tan Xueci’s gloomy brow sank. When these people encountered ghosts at night, sprinting straight toward Qilian Temple to cower behind He Xunye, they certainly hadn’t worn this face. Not much time had passed, yet they were already turning their backs and refusing to acknowledge the debt.

The crowd remained locked in a stalemate. Someone clenched his fists, looking as though he wanted to charge forward to strike He Xunye to see if he truly was an evil ghost. However, meeting He Xunye’s dark, murky eyes, his footsteps froze again.

Until someone suddenly bellowed, “The He Family Head has arrived!”

Tan Xueci spotted He Wuling. Following behind him were several elders of the He family, along with his disciples.

“These ghosts were certainly not drawn here by my He family,” He Wuling’s expression was solemn. “Without any evidence, you wish to falsely accuse my He family?”

Tan Xueci gripped He Xunye’s wrist, standing right beside him. Believing that He Wuling had come to back He Xunye up, he patted He Xunye’s wrist reassuringly.

To his surprise, after He Wuling finished speaking, he turned his head around. His pair of sharp hawk-like eyes fixed onto He Xunye as he commanded, “Apologize.”

Tan Xueci froze. What is the meaning of this?

“If you were capable of saving him,” He Wuling said coldly, “you should have done your utmost to save him. You did not do your utmost, so this child died because of you. This is your sin.”

In an instant, Tan Xueci was pushed beyond the brink of fury. From the time He Xunye was injured until now, he hadn’t shown his face once, yet the moment he arrived, he demanded He Xunye apologize to these people—what kind of logic was that?

The youth kept his eyes lowered, his silky black hair like a cascading waterfall as it was stirred by the night wind. He looked at these people illuminated beneath the firelight; they appeared human, yet they also resembled ghosts, each one akin to a specter.

Seeing that someone had finally taken their side, Wang Caiping slapped her thighs even harder, and Song Qiang also began to hurl curses triumphantly.

Tan Xueci wanted to make them shut up, but the crowd was dense and dark; there was no way he could block so many mouths. His eyes flushed red with anger, and he wanted to lean down to pick up stones to hurl at them, but he was held back by He Xunye.

He Xunye held his wrist but didn’t look at him, his gaze seemingly cast toward a much further distance.

Right at this moment, He Pinglan and her husband, Lian Jiche, cut through the crowd to arrive. He Pinglan roared in high-pitched fury, “All of you shut up!”

She knit her brows and looked toward He Wuling.

“What are you rioting for?!” He Wuling’s face also darkened. “This was originally your younger brother’s fault!”

Their He family’s ancestral teaching was to observe the heavens and survey the earth, sacrificing oneself for others.

Since He Xunye knew the child would die, he should have attempted to save him. He hadn’t even tried, disregarding human life and violating ancestral teachings; he rightfully deserved punishment.

He Pinglan paid him no further mind, raising her hand to form a hand seal. In an instant, as if a ghostly army were crossing the borders, several squads of paper-effigy dolls marched over majestically. Each was roughly the size of a human, carving a path right through the onlookers.

Standing before these paper effigies, He Pinglan’s black hair fluttered wildly in the night wind. Her complexion carried a natural, deathly pallor. Sweeping her gaze over the crowd, she let out a cold laugh and asked, “Do I look like a female ghost to you all?”

The others were thoroughly terrified. Witnessing so many moving paper effigies for the very first time, they scattered one after another, not daring to speak any further.

He Xunye didn’t cast another glance at those people, turning around to enter the temple. Tan Xueci followed him inside, his heart feeling immensely heavy.

Fear could render people irrational. Those individuals couldn’t endure encountering ghosts every single day and were simply too terrified. The more He Xunye did, the more errors he seemed to commit instead. Saving people every day didn’t guarantee much gratitude; the day he chose not to save someone, everyone would turn to hate He Xunye.

Tan Xueci felt a bit miserable in his heart, following He Xunye inside as he asked, “Why are there so many ghosts?”

“I don’t know,” He Xunye didn’t evade this time, answering Tan Xueci’s question. He truly didn’t know either. “Perhaps there really is some god in this world dispensing punishment.”

Tan Xueci knit his brows in thought, failing to notice that He Xunye had halted his footsteps. He bumped his head right into He Xunye’s chest, clutching his forehead.

“Why do you keep following me?” The youth’s dark eyes were eerie and heavy as he gazed at him, asking, “Do you like me?”

Tan Xueci: “…”

An absolute reversal of the natural order.

Who exactly likes whom here?

Moreover, they had already fooled around together, kissing until their lips were swollen, yet he only thought to ask this question now?

Tan Xueci was still angry over the matter regarding those people. Looking at him beneath the night curtain, He Xunye suddenly let out a laugh instead.

“Are you sick?” Tan Xueci’s eyes were still rimmed with red as he couldn’t help but curse, feeling a surge of irritation upon looking at He Xunye.

Even after He Xunye died, it was the same. He had killed a few people, but it seemed to be because those individuals had bullied him. Many people cursed He Xunye, yet He Xunye actually hadn’t raised a hand against them.

Tan Xueci simply wanted to tear all those people’s mouths apart, and then deliver a few slaps to He Xunye. Why on earth did He Xunye just watch blankly while his husband was being cursed, offering absolutely no reaction?

It was simply driving him to death with anger. Why was there such a foolish ghost? Even in death, he didn’t even know how to do bad things; the worst thing he had ever done was merely pounding his backside.

Tan Xueci used his head to ram hard against He Xunye’s chest, the impact stinging slightly, entirely like a little lamb butting someone.

He Xunye laughed again, lowering his head to call him, “Xiao Mie.”

“I’m older than you,” Tan Xueci was displeased, his voice muffled as he said, “You should call me Brother.”

He Xunye was very obedient. The youth’s long eyelashes lowered as he looked at him and said, “Brother Xiao Mie.”

Ref: “…”

This didn’t sound like a brother at all.

Shouting broke out outside again. He Pinglan didn’t seem capable of stopping them either. Someone must have said something, as they began to curse He Pinglan along with him, the insults and curses intolerable to the ear.

The night was as thick as poured ink, sounding exactly like fierce ghosts pounding on the gates. They screamed for He Xunye to get out, wanting to tear him to pieces.

Hearing it made Tan Xueci’s heart ache. He reached out to pull He Xunye into an embrace, letting He Xunye lower his head to rest against his shoulder.

He Xunye lowered his head, but he didn’t lean against him, merely pressing a soft kiss against his lips instead.

Tan Xueci’s eyelashes trembled, and he lifted his head to kiss him back. This time, the youth buried himself a bit lower. Tan Xueci stroked the back of his neck; it felt somewhat cool. How pitiful his ghost was.

They cursed He Xunye to go die, and He Xunye truly did die, barely living into his twenties. Looking at the smile beneath He Xunye’s eyes, he also felt deeply annoyed, saying, “Stop smiling.”

It wasn’t funny in the slightest, turning freezing cold after death.

How exactly did he die?

Was he killed by those people?

But He Xunye was barely eighteen right now, and he died ten years later. What happened during these ten years? Regardless of what it was, thinking about it likely wouldn’t be very pleasant.

“You head back first,” He Xunye straightened his body, gazing deeply at Tan Xueci as if wanting to engrave his face into his mind, saying, “I need to go find the Abbot.”

Tan Xueci cupped He Xunye’s face to plant a kiss on it, looking at his ghost with worry as he said, “I’ll accompany you there.”

How could his ghost walk the night path all by himself? In case some ghost popped out from somewhere and scared his ghost to tears, what would he do then?

“No need,” He Xunye refused.

Seeing his firm attitude, Tan Xueci could do nothing against him, left with no choice but to head back first.

He walked back, but his head didn’t turn away. He kept watching He Xunye’s silhouette until it completely vanished before finally turning around—and was instantly startled to the absolute extreme, nearly leaping into the air.

Beneath the boundless night, a man stood a short distance away. The other party’s complexion was a ghastly blue-white, his eyes dark and gloomy with a spectral chill, staring fixedly at him. There was no telling how long he had been standing there.

Realizing that Tan Xueci had discovered his presence, his eerie, flushed lips curved upward, his phoenix eyes also narrowing as he spoke in an icy tone, “My apologies. Did I interrupt you two?”

📚 Also on NHV Novels

Please Let Me Go, Investigator!

adventureComedyFemale Protagonist

Read Now →
Not interested