“If I can’t be your real father, I can…”
Xu Jichun looked up toward the voice—
A figure stood atop the wall, hands clasped behind his back.
The sun had already set in the west, evening clouds merged like jade, flowing gold, crimson, purple, and orange intertwined.
His sleeves billowed in the evening breeze, the crimson robe so vivid it seemed to drain the color from the lingering sunset.
Xu Jichun, looking up, met the gaze of the figure looking down.
Xu Jichun swallowed nervously, while the figure leisurely brushed his sleeves, his face filled with paternal affection. “Son, I remember now—I really am your father. Sorry, I’m late!”
The blade was already pressed firmly against Xu Jichun’s neck. Eighteenth Lady, collapsed on the ground, screamed hoarsely, “Helan Wang, can’t you hurry up and save him!”
Hearing this, Helan Wang waved his hand grandly.
Though there wasn’t a trace of wind in the dark alley, the masked man standing before Xu Jichun was swept up as if by a fierce gale, then plummeted stiffly to the ground like a puppet on strings.
The masked man lay motionless, an inhuman howl echoing through the dark alley.
Xu Jichun picked up the nearby short knife, walked over, crouched down, and tore off the black cloth covering the man’s face.
The face of a middle-aged man was fully revealed.
Excruciating pain wracked his entire body, contorting his features into something unrecognizably monstrous.
As Xu Jichun drew closer, the man’s teeth chattered, and his hands clawed uselessly at the ground.
Helan Wang leaped down from the wall, took a closer look, and exclaimed, “Tsk, isn’t this Xue Huaiguang, the Vice Minister of Rites?”
“Minister Xue, it really is you.”
Blood and cold sweat smeared across his face, Xue Huaiguang’s body trembled violently as if sifting grain.
He ignored Xu Jichun’s words, staring blankly at the corner of the wall, fragmented phrases spilling from his throat.
Neither the human nor the two Ghosts understood his meaning.
Xu Jichun stood up to fetch the officials but stopped abruptly after taking two steps.
Ruan Qingshang had once said: On the day Ruan Shuyu was injured, there was another man in the dark alley.
The commotion around him ceased.
Following Eighteenth Lady’s terrified gaze, Xu Jichun looked down at his own chest.
A hand—pale and slender as bone—was slowly reaching toward the beating spot beneath his chest.
And in his eyes, a figure suddenly appeared.
A gaunt, emaciated figure, indistinguishable as male or female.
“Helan Wang, think of something!” Eighteenth Lady on the left cried out in desperation.
“My magic suddenly can’t harm mortals anymore!” Helan Wang on the right was equally flustered.
As danger loomed, Xu Jichun’s left hand quietly slipped into the depths of his wide sleeve, his fingertips anxiously tracing every inch of the inner lining.
He was searching for a talisman paper—one said to be capable of exorcising demons, slaying Ghosts, and even subduing immortals.
However, just before he found the talisman paper, a scream pierced the dark alley.
A few drops of blood splattered onto his face. Belatedly, Xu Jichun looked down to see several dark red bloodstains blooming on his robe.
But that bright red blood wasn’t his—it came from the person before him, clutching a severed wrist.
A familiar voice rang out, “Xue Yan, even at death’s door, you dare harm my… Zi’an.”
Xu Jichun glanced to the left. Lu Xiuyan, holding a blood-dripping sword, grinned foolishly at him.
“Lu San… Mingye, thank you.”
“Zi’an, we’re family. No need to stand on ceremony with me.”
Countless officials flooded into the dark alley’s exit, led by none other than Wu Feijue.
Approaching and seeing Xu Jichun unharmed, he finally felt relieved: “Guards, take the criminals Xue Huaiguang and Xue Yan away.”
Xue Huaiguang struggled to his feet and ran toward his son Xue Yan, shielding him firmly behind his back.
No matter how the officers pulled and dragged, Xue Huaiguang refused to move an inch.
Wu Feijue strode over, his face filled with disdain: “Xue Huaiguang, do you think you can protect him forever? With five lives lost, both you and he must die.”
A faint smile appeared on Xue Huaiguang’s pale face: “My son is the reincarnation of the Literary Star. With just one more human heart, he will attain enlightenment, ascend, and return to the heavenly court.”
Wu Feijue snorted coldly and looked at the frail Xue Yan behind Xue Huaiguang: “Madman! Your servant has already confessed to me that Xue Yan suffers from a chest ailment. Since childhood, you have fed him chicken and duck hearts, foolishly believing that hearts can cure hearts…”
“You are the madman!” Xue Huaiguang shouted, cutting off Wu Feijue’s words, and frantically covered Xue Yan’s ears. “My son’s heart is almost complete. With just one more heart, he will succeed! He will succeed!”
His son was born with a bluish face, purple lips, and cyanosis all over his body.
Doctors declared that his son would not live past three years old. He searched far and wide for renowned physicians and finally obtained a prescription for “healing the heart with hearts.”
Those hearts were devoured raw by his son, one after another.
Indeed, his son’s palpitations and shortness of breath disappeared, allowing him to live safely into adulthood.
On the day he came of age, his son told him: “Father, I am actually the reincarnation of the Literary Star. In this life, I descended to the mortal world to pass my Tribulation, and fortunately, you have protected me. Now that my Tribulation is complete, the heavenly court urgently summons me. With just nine fresh, living hearts, I can rejoin the ranks of immortals and enjoy eternal bliss.”
To help his son return to the heavenly court, after leaving court, he went outside the city to learn how to slaughter pigs.
Once he had slaughtered enough pigs, he turned to killing people for their hearts.
The first victim was a seamstress, but his son disliked her for being a woman and refused to eat her heart.
If not a woman, then a man. He immediately lured a beggar to an empty house outside the city to take his heart.
After eating three beggars’ hearts, his son said their hearts had no flavor.
With the imperial examinations approaching, he watched countless scholars passing before him.
Those hearts, steeped in the fragrance of books and ink, surrounded by the pure aura of literary tradition, clear and bright, would surely help his son soar on the wind and ascend directly to the ranks of immortals.
“Wu Feijue, you have destroyed my son’s path to immortality. Heaven will punish you! And all of you… you will all face retribution!”
Wu Feijue had no patience for such a madman’s nonsense. He grabbed Xue Huaiguang by the collar and dragged him outside.
Just as father and son were about to be separated, Xue Yan smiled eerily: “Father, give me the last heart.”
Before the words faded, a hand pierced Xue Huaiguang’s chest.
Five fingers, sharp as hooks, clenched the beating heart and tore it out by the roots.
The bloody heart was stuffed into Xue Yan’s mouth. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed it whole.
In shock, everyone took a few steps back.
But then, Xue Yan suddenly collapsed to the ground with a dull thud.
Before anyone could blink, a massive weasel broke free from his limp body, carrying a strong scent of blood as it leaped onto the wall.
Before fleeing, the weasel glanced disdainfully at Xue Huaiguang, who lay dead with unseeing eyes: “Foolish mortal, your son died long ago.”
The sky darkened to a deep blue, as birds returning from foraging and a large yellow shadow vanished into the distant glow of twilight.
Lanterns beneath the eaves of countless households lit up one by one, and night fell.
Helan Wang suddenly understood: “No wonder I couldn’t harm him. So he was a monster all along.”
Eighteenth Lady turned her head to stare at him, scrutinizing carefully: “Why do you have magical powers, but I don’t?”
“My powers were all exchanged with Nether-wealth,” Helan Wang said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as they walked out.
Eighteenth Lady frowned deeply, feeling he was lying, yet also sensing his words held truth.
After much hesitation, she left Helan Wang behind and ran toward the wealthy Lu Xiuyan: “Lu San… Mingye, are you still giving me that chest of gold spirit ingots?”
Lu Xiuyan’s eyes curved into a smile: “Yes!”
Beside him, Wu Feijue was startled by his sudden exclamation, his heart pounding like thunder. Turning to see him grinning foolishly at the wall, Wu Feijue quickly slapped him on the back: “What are you laughing at?”
Lu Xiuyan straightened up proudly: “Nothing.”
Having settled things with Lu Xiuyan, Eighteenth Lady ran over to Xu Jichun: “Zi’an, you don’t need to burn the gold spirit ingots. Just place them before my Ancestral Tablet, and I’ll receive them.”
Xu Jichun nodded, urging her to leave: “Aren’t you afraid of the dark? Hurry up and go.”
Eighteenth Lady said, “I’ll accompany you back to the inn first.”
“Let’s go.” The wound on his arm wasn’t serious, so Xu Jichun strode forward. Passing by Helan Wang, he asked, “Will you come with us?”
“Of course, we’re family. We should go together.”
“…”
Turning past Zhengping Ward, they arrived at Dunxing Ward, where the Gaosheng Inn was located.
Halfway there, Eighteenth Lady asked in confusion, “Zi’an, how did you get tricked into that dark alley?”
Xu Jichun helplessly pointed to the torn robe at his lower back, sliced open by a sharp blade: “Not long after you left, someone threatened me with a knife to go to Xiuxing Ward. Since death seemed inevitable either way, I decided to go to the dark alley and get some answers before dying.”
Eighteenth Lady asked, “Did you get your answers?”
Xu Jichun replied, “No. I was just about to ask when you arrived. But I’ve figured it out now—the Vice Minister of Rites oversees the imperial examinations, and scholars strive their entire lives for just four words: fame, fortune, and success.”
Around the time of the imperial exams, a small rumor from the Vice Minister of Rites was enough to make candidates who had studied diligently for a decade believe it wholeheartedly.
Everyone believed they were favored by heaven, thus stepping one by one into the deadly trap laid by the Xue father and son.
As they neared the inn, a crowd had gathered in front of a nearby residence, blocking the narrow alley completely.
Eighteenth Lady loved to join in on the excitement and was the first to float toward the crowd.
Once she drifted away, Xu Jichun cupped his hands in gratitude toward Helan Wang beside him: “Thank you, Brother Helan, for saving me.”
Helan Wang replied, “A father saving his son is only natural.”
Xu Jichun said, “You’re not my father. I’ve already made that clear to Eighteenth Lady.”
Helan Wang flashed a roguish smile: “If I can’t be your birth father, I can be your stepfather.”
“…”
In the distance, Eighteenth Lady was waving frantically at them. Seeing this, Xu Jichun strode over.
When he finally pushed his way to the center of the crowd, he saw the weasel that had escaped earlier pinned under the foot of a Daoist priest.
The priest had clear, bright eyes and wore a faded blue Daoist robe.
On his left waist hung a Tianpeng ruler, and on his right, a gourd. On his back were two swords—one a peach-wood sword, the other a long sword.
As the crowd of onlookers grew, the priest spoke proudly: “I am the chief disciple of Daoist Qingxu. Passing through this place today, I suddenly noticed dark energy swirling in the corner of the wall, with evil spirits at work. I immediately pointed my sword at the demon and captured it.”
The commoners were clearly skeptical: “Daoist priest, this is just a slightly larger weasel. Where’s the evil spirit?”
The priest drew his peach-wood sword and stabbed it into the weasel’s hind leg.
The weasel immediately let out a piercing cry of pain: “You damned priest, I’ll kill you!”
“The weasel spoke!”
“Monster!”
The common folk scattered in panic, while the Taoist priest anxiously called out, “Don’t run, everyone! Buy a peace talisman, guaranteed to ward off all evil spirits!”
The weasel, who had donned Xue Yan’s human skin to commit evil for years, ultimately fell into the hands of a Taoist priest selling peace talismans.
Xu Jichun chuckled wryly and called for the two Ghosts to continue forward.
After just a few steps, the Taoist priest caught up, holding the weasel: “Kind benefactor, would you like to buy a peace talisman? If you and your wife buy together, I can offer a discount.”
“Husband and wife?” Xu Jichun looked around, confirming that only Eighteenth Lady, the female ghost, was beside him. He said firmly, “You can see Ghosts.”
The Taoist priest looked guilty: “I can’t see them.”
Eighteenth Lady crossed her arms and circled the Taoist priest, growing more and more certain he looked familiar. “I remember now! You’re the little Taoist from Buju Mountain’s Tianshi Temple, Zhongliguan! Well, well, you can see me but never told me!”
Upon hearing his name, Zhongliguan’s legs trembled, and he slipped away without a trace.
Even after running all the way back to Tianshi Temple, he was still shaken.
In the past, he could only hear the voice of the female ghost Eighteenth Lady; today, for some reason, he could actually see her.
“Could it be that my cultivation base has reached its peak?”
Author’s Note:
Xu Jichun: A Ghost who insists on becoming someone’s stepfather, so annoying [angry]
ps: What Lu San meant to say was: My son, Zi’an [sunglasses]