Chapter 9: Setting the Trap

The rest of the crew had already departed. As Tan Xueci followed his manager toward the car, he failed to notice his shadow stretching longer and longer behind him, gradually thickening into a dense, heavy black mass.

It took the shape of a human figure, much taller than himself.

Even after getting into the car, Tan Xueci was still trembling. His palms were slick with cold sweat, and his face remained deathly pale.

That ghost infant—this wasn’t the first time he had seen it. It was the same one that had appeared in He Sui’s car.

Who is it following? Is it following He Sui and the others… or is it following me?

Tan Xueci clutched the talisman bag at his chest. What exactly is inside this? He gently kneaded it with his cold fingertips. It felt like powder… could it be bone ash?

No, no.

He took a deep breath, forcing the chaotic thoughts from his mind.

I’m sick.

No matter what kind of little ghost it is, it’s just my hallucination.

He reasoned that seeing He Sui and his circle was like seeing a ghost to him, which was why he hallucinated the infant. As for whether the pouch contained bone ash, that was harder to say. Feeling a chill on the back of his neck, he quickly let go of the bag.

“Hey,” the manager asked curiously from the driver’s seat, “I went looking for you just now. The stagehand said you were in the back with Teacher Zhai. How come you were the only one there when I arrived? Where’s Zhai Fang?”

In the dim cabin, Tan Xueci’s pale cheeks looked somewhat somber, shadows sweeping over his eyes. He whispered, “He was eaten by a ghost.”

Manager: “?”

“What?” Lu Xi didn’t hear him clearly and asked again.

Tan Xueci spoke slowly and honestly: “I don’t know.”

Lu Xi didn’t actually care if Zhai Fang lived or died; he was just worried about Tan Xueci being bullied. To be honest, when he first took over Tan Xueci, he’d heard the boy was a “little fool,” but after six months together, he felt that wasn’t quite the case. After all, the boy ate when he was hungry and slept when he was tired.

He even knew to run home when it rained.

Tan Xueci pulled a car pillow into his lap, finally ceasing his tremors as the sensation of pain became more pronounced. He looked down and gasped; there were two faint, black tooth marks on his wrist, seeping blood, as if he had been bitten by a tiny set of teeth.

The wound wasn’t large, but it showed no signs of healing. The blood on his slender, cold-white wrist was startlingly bright, and the edges of the marks were turning a faint, sickly black.

“Brother Lu…!” Tan Xueci froze. His blood turned to ice in an instant. He hurriedly called out to his manager, wanting him to take a look.

Is this wound a hallucination too? Or did I accidentally hit something while I was having an episode? But how could a normal scrape have black edges that seem to be spreading toward the center?

Tan Xueci braced himself against the seat, holding his hand up for Lu Xi to see. He didn’t notice his shadow writhing behind him, twisting into a form far larger than himself.

The dark shadow’s hands reached over Xueci’s shoulders, tightening inch by inch, pulling him into an embrace from behind. It lowered its head, and a long, crimson tongue flicked out, licking Tan Xueci’s wrist.

The pitch-black tooth marks and the blood vanished instantly. On the snowy-white skin, only a small patch of red remained from the licking.

“What’s wrong?” The manager turned around and saw his wrist. Assuming Tan Xueci’s brief disappearance meant someone had tried to make a move on him, he snapped, “What the hell dog licked you?!”

Lu Xi wasn’t exactly noble. When He Sui handed the boy over, his first thought was to find Tan Xueci a “gold master” (sugar daddy).

He had been a manager for seven or eight years without a single A-list star to his name. He was on the fringes of the company. If he could successfully “market” Tan Xueci, his future would be so bright he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

As for whether Tan Xueci was “stupid” or understood the concept of a benefactor, that wasn’t in his consideration. With a face like that, he was sure no benefactor would care if the boy didn’t know how to serve them.

But he hadn’t found a suitable candidate in months.

Previously, a Vice President surnamed Wang from Qingrong Entertainment wanted to keep Tan Xueci. His secretary had contacted Lu Xi, asking for the boy to be sent to a hotel.

Lu Xi had bought Tan Xueci a bowl of malatang and coaxed him: “Brother’s taking you to do a big business deal tonight. Once this deal is done, neither of us will ever have to worry about food or drink again!”

Tan Xueci, holding a bowl larger than his own face, blinked blankly. Under the streetlights of the roadside stall, his eyes were bright and his lips red. He looked up and asked hesitantly in a small voice, “After we do it, can I have a portion this big every day?”

Lu Xi had even added fish balls for him—the handmade kind, soft and springy. He had never eaten anything so delicious.

“Yes!” Lu Xi promised. “You can eat it! Three times a day!”

Tan Xueci took a sip of the soup and nodded, his eyes sparkling. He said obediently, “Brother Lu, then I want to go.”

Lu Xi took him to the hotel. Going up, Tan Xueci was clearly a bit scared, clutching Lu Xi’s sleeve the whole way. When they bumped into people, he shrank behind the manager’s back, but he still followed obediently.

Until the hotel room door opened and Mr. Wang stepped out.

Lu Xi’s vision went dark, as if he had encountered a religious taboo.

Mr. Wang had already showered in anticipation, wrapped in the hotel’s largest-sized bathrobe. He was pale, plump, and soft all over—looking like he was ready for the market by the end of the year.

Where was the refined benefactor? Who let the hog out of the pen?

Lu Xi’s palms were slick with sweat. He looked at Mr. Wang, then back at Tan Xueci. Finally, he took a deep breath, grabbed Tan Xueci, and bolted.

Only when they reached the bottom of the hotel did he breathe a sigh of relief.

“…Brother Lu,” Tan Xueci asked timidly at his side. He tugged at the hem of his shirt, asking uneasily and cautiously, “Are we not doing the big business anymore? Did I do something wrong?”

Because he had been locked up at home, he was ignorant of the world and was always afraid of making mistakes.

Tan Xueci was already prone to keeping his head down and curling up in corners; once outside, he seemed even less able to lift his head. It felt as though something heavy was pressing down on his shoulders and spine, making him feel out of place, leaving him with no choice but to constantly apologize.

Lu Xi: “…”

Lu Xi raised his hand and—SLAP—gave himself a face-altering blow.

?!

Tan Xueci was startled, asking blankly, “Lu… Brother Lu, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Lu Xi said, grimacing while clutching his face. “Just a little hobby of mine.”

Tan Xueci didn’t understand, but he was clever enough not to ask further. What if Lu Xi decided to slap him too?

Lu Xi still wanted to “sell” Tan Xueci, but the boy was still young. Stroking his meager remaining conscience, he decided to pick a buyer carefully. Consequently, he never found one he liked.

When others took an interest in Tan Xueci: Lu Xi: Lecherous old bastard.

When others didn’t take an interest in Tan Xueci: Lu Xi: Tasteless trash!

And so it dragged on, until Tan Xueci became He Sui’s “boyfriend.” Lu Xi almost died of regret; he would have been better off giving the boy to Mr. Wang. Now, he wouldn’t get a cent of benefit.

Furthermore, Lu Xi wasn’t satisfied with He Sui either. He Sui had several lovers; though he was relatively consistent and only had two or three, which was disciplined compared to other wealthy young masters, to a “little lamb” like Tan Xueci who hadn’t been touched by a speck of mud, He Sui was practically a breeding pig… er, a stallion.

In between, he had encountered a few small-company bosses from god-knows-where who actually dared to covet his artist.

Looking around: The forbidden hog, the breeding pig, and the wild boar.

Lu Xi: “…”

Damn it, this father-and-son duo has been caught in a trap!

…

“…” Lu Xi was suddenly irritable. Tan Xueci froze, looking down to find the wound on his wrist was gone, leaving only a patch of red. The area felt itchy, as if it had been licked.

He was a bit dazed, thinking he might have seen wrong earlier. No little ghost had bitten him; he had just rubbed it red himself. He shook his head at Lu Xi and said, “No one licked me.”

Lu Xi was suspicious, but the most likely suspect—the director—had been with him all night. Who else could it be?

It couldn’t be a ghost lick, surely.

Lu Xi muttered as he turned to start the car. While turning the ignition, he warned Tan Xueci harshly, “You better not go mixing with those men behind my back. Not a single man is a good thing; you can only trust the ones I pick for you, you hear me?!”

“I… I hear you,” Tan Xueci said honestly.

Lu Xi didn’t notice that as he spoke, the tall dark shadow behind Tan Xueci lifted its head. In the dim shadows of the car, a pale, cold hand with jet-black nail beds slowly reached toward the manager’s neck.

Just as the neck was about to be gripped, Lu Xi suddenly remembered something and turned back to glare at Tan Xueci. “And you have a husband now! Stay away from those wild men! Or your dead husband might come looking for you at night!”

This threat was more effective than any other. Tan Xueci didn’t want to see a ghost in the middle of the night; he sat up straight instantly, clutching his seatbelt. “O-okay!”

Lu Xi was finally satisfied and turned back to drive.

“…”

The ghostly hand, less than a centimeter from Lu Xi’s neck, turned into a cloud of white mist and slowly vanished.