Chapter 75: Disappeared

Today was Liu Qiu’s “first seventh”[1], and Fang Lian woke early to burn paper offerings in the courtyard.

Black ash drifted upward with the firelight, swirling into the darkened sky.

“Qiu girl… you should at least come back and look at us once. It’s my fault for not curing you. You must be resentful in your heart.”

Fang Lian’s voice was hoarse and rough. After a long pause, she let out a deep sigh, heavy with endless sorrow.

“We’re setting out tomorrow. I don’t know when I’ll be able to come back to see you again. If you knew, you’d surely blame your mother.”

“I don’t blame you, Mother,” Liu Qiu said softly, crouching beside her.

Of course, Fang Lian could not see her, nor hear her, and there was no way she could respond.

Liu Qiu watched the paper money burn into ash and scatter. Her gaze lifted slowly to the gloomy sky. It was going to rain again.

She kept wondering how she could suppress herself from losing control. Every time she came into contact with yang energy, her consciousness seemed to slip away.

If this continued, she feared she would truly become a malicious ghost that harmed others.

The original plot had never mentioned such side effects. At first, she had thought everything would be simple.

After becoming a ghost, no one could see or touch her. That meant she didn’t need to do anything at all—just stand aside and let the story unfold naturally.

But reality had proven her initial thoughts utterly wrong. The Liu sisters were both lunatics. It would have been one thing if they simply showed no respect for spirits, but they had even come up with the idea of stuffing a soul into a wooden puppet.

Su Li was no better—she had actually dug up a corpse that had already been buried in the earth.

The more Liu Qiu thought about it, the more suffocated she felt.

Especially last night. Su Li had transformed into a little fox and witnessed the moment she lost control. Who knew what she was thinking now?

She still hadn’t asked what had happened to the human Su Li had dragged into the cave.

Suddenly, a voice sounded from outside the courtyard.

“Excuse me, is anyone home?”

Fang Lian hurriedly wiped her tears and stood to walk toward the gate.

Liu Qiu followed a few steps behind.

Gradually, she slowed to a stop. Her eyes widened as she stared at the person standing outside the yard.

The crude bamboo fence did nothing to obscure the visitor’s face.

Long brows, phoenix eyes with lifted corners, narrow and alluring. A faint smile hung on her lips, making her look strikingly beautiful.

Liu Qiu’s lips trembled as she softly spoke a name.

“Bai Qingqing.”

Instead of joy, a chill ran through her. This was a completely different world.

[System, am I hallucinating? I think I just saw someone who looks exactly like the female lead from the previous world.]

The system remained silent for an unusually long time before replying.

[Host, it’s not a hallucination. I just scanned her. I can guarantee she is absolutely not a demon.]

Memories of the previous world flashed through Liu Qiu’s mind, and a faint soreness spread through her lower body. She truly did not want to be taken by a snake tail all over again.

That thick, cold body had completely filled her, grinding relentlessly until she couldn’t even speak.

All she could do was open her mouth and let saliva drip down.

For days afterward, she had been dazed, as if she might die at any moment.

Liu Qiu shook her head sharply, forcing those memories away.

This person probably just happened to resemble Bai Qingqing.

She didn’t know what the woman had said to Fang Lian, but Fang Lian’s expression gradually softened. The bitterness that usually lingered on her face gave way to a trace of a smile.

Liu Qiu remained where she was and watched as Fang Lian led the woman inside.

“Miss Fu Ling, is what you said true?”

Fang Lian’s voice carried over. Liu Qiu’s fingers twitched. Her surname was Fu. So it really was just a resemblance.

For some reason, she felt relieved.

She drifted closer and examined the woman carefully. The more she looked, the more she resembled Bai Qingqing—not just in appearance, but in posture and expression.

Liu Qiu waved a hand in front of her face. It passed straight through her body. She was an ordinary human who could not see her.

“Aunt Fang, you can try, but don’t take it too seriously,” Fu Ling said lightly. “If I fail to summon your daughter’s soul, don’t be too upset.”

Fang Lian’s expression dimmed again. “Little Daoist priest, I understand. I just want some comfort.”

Following behind them, Liu Qiu listened to their conversation and learned that this Fu Ling was a Daoist priest.

But Liu Qiu was almost certain she was a fraud. She had passed straight through her body and hadn’t sensed anything unusual.

“Mother, don’t be fooled. She’s definitely a swindler,” Liu Qiu muttered, though Fang Lian could not hear her.

When Fang Lian led Fu Ling into the main hall, Liu Qiu did not follow. Instead, she floated off to wake Liu Huang and have her deal with this so-called Daoist.

Liu Huang and Liu Feng’s rooms were adjacent, so even though the puppet was in Liu Feng’s room, Liu Qiu could still enter Liu Huang’s.

She passed through the wall and hovered beside Liu Huang’s bed.

“Wake up. Liu Huang, wake up,” she called.

After shouting for a while with no response, she reached out to pinch Liu Huang’s nose.

Before her hand could touch, Liu Huang caught her wrist and pulled her into her arms, hugging her tightly.

“What are you trying to do?” Liu Huang’s voice was low and drowsy, laced with laziness.

Liu Qiu frowned slightly. She suspected Liu Huang had been awake all along.

“You need to get up. Mother brought a fraudulent Daoist into the house.”

“If she’s just a fraud, that’s still better,” Liu Huang murmured.

She slowly opened her eyes, lowered her gaze to the ghost nestled in her arms, and kissed her cold cheek. “I know. I’ll get up right away.”

Every day upon waking, her craving for this sickly one seemed to grow stronger.

[Host, you really have no lingering feelings for the female lead from the previous world, do you?]

Liu Qiu was puzzled. [Why do you say that?]

[She has the same face as the previous world’s female lead, doesn’t she? Yet you immediately assumed she was a swindler.]

Though merely a system, it had an emotional module, and sometimes it asked questions that sounded oddly sentimental.

It just wanted to know whether the host had developed unnecessary attachments.

Liu Qiu answered honestly. [The female lead in this world is Su Li. Even if that person were truly Bai Qingqing herself, I wouldn’t care.]

[Su Li is more important.]

From beginning to end, Liu Qiu had only one goal.

To go home.

In this world, Su Li was the female lead. Everything she did revolved around her.

It was just that the plot had started to veer in strange directions.

The system chuckled oddly. [Host, you’re wonderful. If all task-takers were like you, things would be much easier.] Many task-takers ended up falling for the small worlds, because few people could resist the protagonist.

But to complete missions, one had to remain cold and rational. Only then could one obtain what they truly wanted.

While Liu Qiu conversed with the system, Liu Huang had already risen and dressed.

“Sickly one, stay here. That Daoist might not be a fraud after all,” she warned before pushing the door open and leaving, leaving Liu Qiu alone in the room.

Lying back on the bed and staring at the crude ceiling, Liu Qiu took a deep breath. She had once thought Liu Huang the most detestable, but now she realized she was actually the simplest.

She no longer teased or scolded her. Even if she still called her “sickly one” all the time, it didn’t hurt at all.

After a while, Liu Qiu took out the professional manual the system had given her.

She had finished the second chapter last time. Today, she would begin the third. Perhaps once she reached the later chapters, she could suppress the side effects.

“Big sister, what are you thinking about?”

A childish voice rang out.

Startled, Liu Qiu jerked her head up and saw a small figure standing in the center of the room.

She went completely numb.

It was the little girl she had seen before—the one who had suddenly appeared in front of her and Liu Huang while they were shopping.

How could she have found this place? And how could she see her?

There was only one thought in Liu Qiu’s mind.

Run.

The little girl smiled brightly. “Big sister, don’t be afraid. You haven’t killed anyone yet. The Daoist will send you to reincarnation.”

Liu Qiu said nothing. She rushed toward the wall, intending to pass through it as usual.

This time, she failed.

Instead of phasing through, she slammed directly into it.

Turning around helplessly, she gathered ghostly energy and hurled it at the little girl.

Her ghost energy was strong enough to knock wood apart.

The little girl neither dodged nor flinched. Just as the energy was about to strike, she vanished and reappeared in front of Liu Qiu.

“Big sister has only been dead a few days and already knows how to attack. So impressive.”

“I’ve been dead more than ten years and I’m only a little stronger than you.”

As she spoke, her body began to grow transparent.

She turned her head and flashed a bright smile. Her mouth was filled with blood. The skin on her face began to rot and fall away, revealing white bone smeared with decaying flesh.

Liu Qiu nearly fainted from fright. Compared to this girl, she felt like a ghost playing dress-up.

She was terrified of ghosts—terrified beyond reason. Realizing the girl was a genuine one sent her fear skyrocketing.

Her body trembled uncontrollably. Unable to pass through the wall, she floated to the door and tried to open it.

“Big sister, you can’t run. Just stay here and wait for the Daoist, okay?” The little girl’s voice drew closer, coldness seeping into Liu Qiu’s heart.

Liu Qiu burst into tears. Silent streams slid down her pale cheeks.

She dared not turn around. She didn’t want to see that rotting face again.

“Huh? Big sister, you can cry?”

Her mind blank, the door refused to budge.

She squeezed her eyes shut and whispered, almost breathlessly, “Please… stop scaring me.”

She truly hated this world.

The little girl giggled. “Big sister, we’re both ghosts. Why are you afraid of me?”

“Do you think I’m ugly? One day, you’ll become like me too.”

[This little ghost really doesn’t know how to talk. Even as a ghost, Host would be a clean and beautiful one.] The system screeched indignantly in her mind, though it could only rage helplessly.

A small icy hand grabbed Liu Qiu’s wrist. Her breathing stopped from terror.

Tears streamed down as her mind went blank. She only wished for someone—anyone—to appear. She didn’t want to stay with such a horrifying ghost.

As if heaven had heard her plea, the door opened.

A familiar face appeared.

Liu Qiu lunged forward and threw herself into the newcomer’s arms, clinging tightly. “I’m so scared,” she trembled. She didn’t even think about how she could suddenly touch this woman who looked like Bai Qingqing. She was simply too afraid.

So afraid she could barely even float.

Fu Ling felt the sudden chill wrap around her and smiled faintly. “As expected of a lustful ghost—so proactive.”

“But if you’re going to seduce someone, you should at least choose the right person.”

“Daoist, this big sister isn’t like ordinary ghosts. She can cry.”

Fu Ling narrowed her eyes and lifted Liu Qiu’s chin.

Her small face was deathly pale, tear-streaked and pitiful.

Fu Ling’s expression shifted. Ghosts did not bleed or cry. Their bodies were void.

Liu Qiu stared at her face, sobbing harder. “Bai Qingqing, I’m so scared.” She was too frightened to distinguish who was who.

Fu Ling pinched her chin, her smile deepening, eyes dazzling and affectionate. “Who is Bai Qingqing? Your old lover?”

“She must look a lot like me.”

“Or perhaps that’s just your way of seducing people. Unfortunately, I don’t fancy romances between humans and ghosts. Otherwise, I might have satisfied you.”

With that, Fu Ling formed a hand seal and removed the jade bottle from her waist, sealing the lustful ghost clinging to her inside.

“Clang—”

A cold blade pressed against her throat.

“Give her back.”

Fu Ling yawned lazily. “You’ve really been bewitched badly. If this continues, you’ll die.”

Liu Huang’s eyes burned with killing intent. She pressed harder, drawing blood along Fu Ling’s neck. “Do you think I truly won’t kill?”

Fu Ling snorted and casually tossed the jade bottle aside.

Liu Huang withdrew her sword and hurried to catch it.

“Xiao Chan, let’s go,” Fu Ling called before striding out.

As she passed another room, she tilted her head slightly. A fox’s scent lingered.

“Wow. Little fox, hide better. I’ll come find you next time.”

This household really did keep interesting creatures.

But first she would deal with this tearful ghost, then return for the fox. The scent felt oddly familiar—like the one that had escaped last time.

Liu Huang carefully cradled the jade bottle and removed the stopper. “Liu Qiu, it’s alright. Come out.”

She waited patiently for a long while.

Then her expression darkened, and she crushed the bottle in her hand.

She had been tricked.

By the time she looked up, the Daoist was long gone.

[1] “First seventh” (头七): A traditional mourning rite held on the seventh day after a person’s death, when the soul is believed to return home once before departing fully.

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