Mu Bai gradually noticed that the man in the villa had been going to bed earlier and earlier.
In the past, he would only lie down around ten o’clock. But recently, he often headed to bed shortly after nine.
During the day, Mu Bai would lounge near the cemetery, reading storybooks while idly chatting with A-Sheng. One day he mentioned this new discovery, but A-Sheng only gave his usual blank look and replied flatly:
“Sleeping early is good. Less chance of dying.”
Mu Bai let out a sigh. He turned another page of his book and thought to himself that it was indeed summer now, no wonder A-Sheng was always talking nonsense.
The cemetery was surrounded by dry land, no rivers or lakes nearby. For a water ghost like A-Sheng, summer was the season he despised the most.
A-Sheng didn’t understand why Mu Bai sighed at all. Instead, he only asked whether Mu Bai was running out of books to read.
Mu Bai shook his head. “Not that.”
Yan He also noticed a change.
The little ghost still came early every evening, as usual. But unlike before, he no longer made a beeline for the bedroom, nor did he trail after Yan He all the time. Instead, he would run straight into the study.
A few times, Yan He even deliberately stayed in the study, reading through his own case files, waiting to see what the ghost was up to.
At first, he thought the little ghost had taken an interest in the printer in the study.
After all, the ghost was endlessly curious about most of the electronic devices in the house. Even a simple motion-sensor lamp could keep him entertained for an entire night.
But, to his surprise, the ghost behaved quite properly in the study. He never touched the printer that spat out sheets of white paper with a “ka-cha ka-cha” sound.
Instead, Yan He had seen him several times sitting in his office chair, sprawled over the desk, utterly engrossed in a book.
At first, Yan He didn’t bother to check what exactly the ghost was reading.
But the problem was that the little ghost had gotten into the habit of leaving books open after he finished.
Each time he read, he would leave the book spread wide on the desk before wandering off to the living room to play.
On more than one occasion, the window of the study was left open. The night breeze would blow the ghost’s book, flipping the pages noisily.
One summer night, during a thunderstorm, the damp wind outside rustled the tree branches and blew harder into the study.
The ghost’s book, left open on the desk, was caught in the gust and fluttered crookedly until it slid right in front of Yan He.
He picked it up, intending to put it back, but as he did, his eyes accidentally fell upon a few lines on the page.
Just a few sentences yet they were vivid, suggestive, and extraordinarily ambiguous. The words never directly described anything indecent, but the half-veiled, half-exposed style was enough to leave little to the imagination.
Yan He paused, then flipped through a few more pages. They were all the same, layer upon layer of innuendo, an almost shameless indulgence in suggestive prose.
“…So the underworld allows this kind of smut?”
The thought of the little ghost spending his nights poring over such books made Yan He’s temples throb.
Meanwhile, Mu Bai had discovered something else about the man in the villa.
Not only was he going to bed earlier, he had also developed a fondness for watching television.
In the past, Mu Bai hadn’t even realized that the enormous black screen in the living room was a TV.
He had seen televisions before, of course, but never one this large.
And compared to storybooks, the TV was so much more entertaining! It could talk, act, and even show moving pictures.
So from then on, whenever Mu Bai came to the villa, he would completely forget about his pile of books. He would instead sit obediently, waiting for Yan He to turn on the television.
Yan He rarely looked up at the screen. He seemed to turn it on only for the noise, never really watching.
But Mu Bai would sit on the sofa, wide-eyed, drinking in every scene. Whenever the plot reached a tense moment, his little ghostly figure grew stiff with nervous anticipation.
One evening, Yan He happened to look up. On the giant television screen, a melodramatic movie was playing.
The female lead was running desperately across the street when….. Bam!
A car hit her, sending her flying. The next second, the male lead came rushing over, cradled her bloodied body in his arms, and let out a heart-wrenching, sky-shaking scream:
“No!!!”
Yan He had never seen anything so over the top. The male actor’s howl was so loud and sudden that even his own eyelid twitched.
Expression caught somewhere between bafflement and amusement, he turned to glance at the sofa, only to see the little ghost sitting there with the utmost sorrow written on his face, deeply invested in the tragedy.
Of course, a ghost from the Qian Emperor’s era had no concept of melodrama or special effects. To him, what he saw was reality: if someone was hit and sent flying, then that was exactly what happened.
After that, Yan He no longer let him watch tragic films. He switched to comedies instead.
But Mu Bai was not easily stopped.
Sometimes, after Yan He had gone to bed, he would secretly sneak back into the living room, mimicking exactly how the man operated the television, and turn it on himself.
After enough attempts, he became so familiar with the process that Yan He eventually noticed something strange.
For several days in a row, the TV’s viewing history was filled with late-night activity.
So one night, Yan He pretended to get up for water, silently trailing behind the little ghost with a cup in hand.
He watched as the ghost, clearly practiced, drifted into the living room, floated up to the enormous television, fiddled with it, and finally turned it on. Then he sat down, carefully lowering the volume, and began browsing through the movies.
The ghost muttered to himself as he scrolled, “This one needs membership… that one too…”
After flipping through for a long while, Mu Bai realized that he had already watched almost all the free films. Only after great effort did he manage to find one last unwatched title tucked away in some corner of the menu.
Excited, he immediately plopped onto the sofa, eyes shining, and started watching with gusto.
The very next day, Yan He activated the parental control system on the TV.
From then on, the television required facial recognition every time it was turned on and only his face could unlock it.
The little ghost had no idea what “child lock” was. All he knew was that the television seemed broken, and only Yan He could make it work.
So, late at night, no matter how he tried, he could not turn it on. He was left staring resentfully at the frozen screen that kept demanding a “Parent’s face scan.”
After enough failures, Mu Bai finally gave up sneaking out to watch TV at night.
Instead, he discovered a new haunt: the villa’s small storage room.
It happened by pure chance that he had followed the robot vacuum and stumbled upon it.
Inside, neatly arranged on the shelves, were stacks of comic books and anime figurines, along with several impressive Gundam models.
Mu Bai pulled down one comic, opened it, and from that moment on, he was hooked.
Every night, he would curl up in the storage room, lost in his new treasures.
More than once, he stayed there until long after Yan He had fallen asleep, only sneaking into the bedroom later to quietly feed on the man’s energy.
With both spiritual food and “real” food in abundance, Mu Bai’s days were blissfully happy.
He almost began to think of that little storage room as his secret base.
Yan He noticed something was wrong the very next day.
The ghost, who used to cling to him even while he showered, now came later and later. Sometimes, he didn’t even show up until after Yan He had already gone to bed.
Eventually, Yan He discovered papers scattered across his desk, covered in the ghost’s handwriting and sketches.
His eyelids twitched at the memory of those obscene storybooks. Still, he took a closer look.
The handwriting was neat, showing traces of calligraphy practice, though not yet entirely refined, some strokes still betrayed a beginner’s hand.
But the writing itself wasn’t the issue.
The problem was what was drawn on the paper.
It was the blueprint of a house. His house.
And as the little ghost hunched over the desk, muttering to himself while drawing, Yan He clearly heard:
“This part is A-Sheng’s. That part is mine…”
On the paper, two areas were circled: the large swimming pool, and the small storage room.
Apparently, the wild ghost A-Sheng had claimed the swimming pool, while Mu Bai himself had taken the storage room.
And as for Yan He? He was relegated to the ground floor, doomed to spend his nights watching the two little ghosts happily come and go together.
Oh, and if Mu Bai ever got hungry, he could drop in for a quick bite in Yan He’s bedroom before going back upstairs to play with his new friend.
A hundred years from now, Mu Bai would probably laugh and say to A-Sheng:
“A-Sheng, A-Sheng! Everyone in this villa has died! The whole place is ours now!”
Yan He slowly closed his eyes, his thoughts dark. Honestly, it would have been better if the little ghost had just kept reading smut. At least that didn’t involve bringing home another wild ghost.
He watched as the ghost finished drawing, carefully labeled everything, and tucked the paper away with an almost reverent air.
Adding that to the way the little ghost always ran straight to the storage room as soon as he arrived, Yan He began to suspect there was more to that room than met the eye.
Perhaps, he thought grimly, the wild ghost A-Sheng was really living inside, hiding his yin energy with some secret spell.
So that very night, Yan He went to the storage room himself, one of the few places in the villa he rarely set foot in.
He carried a lamp, pushed the door open with a cold expression, and scanned the room.
No wild ghost.
Only shelves packed with colorful comics and gleaming Gundam models.
The sight was enough to make him realize at once why the little ghost had been coming later and later these days.
So it turned out he had been sneaking in here every night to devour comics.
For reasons Yan He himself couldn’t quite explain, he unconsciously let out a breath of relief.
Turning on the storage room’s light, he recalled where these comics had come from, they had been entrusted to him years ago by his nephew, back when the boy was still in high school.
Yan Zhang, his nephew, had been obsessed with manga. But his family had disapproved, even planning to send him abroad after graduation to study finance instead.
Yan Zhang had fought for a long time before his family finally agreed to let him major in manga.
These comics were ones he had collected back in high school.
Because he didn’t want his family to discover that he still read manga, he begged Yan He to keep them safe for him.
For the little ghost, this stash of manga was like Sun Wukong stumbling into the Peach Garden of Heaven, it was paradise.
Yan He made a phone call to his nephew, telling him that some of his old manga were still kept at his house.
On the other end, Yan Zhang’s voice carried the drowsiness of someone who had just woken up.
At first, he seemed confused, but once he realized what Yan He meant, he slapped his thigh and exclaimed, “I knew it! No wonder I couldn’t find my goddess’s doujinshi anywhere!”
Yan He raised his eyes slightly at the mention of his nephew’s so-called “goddess” and asked him when he had time to come pick the books up.
“Right now!” Yan Zhang blurted out without hesitation.
“Uncle, I’ll come over immediately! I’ll grab my goddess’s book first, then tomorrow I’ll get someone to help me move the rest.”
Yan He only gave a faint grunt of acknowledgment before hanging up and closing the storage room door.
By a little after nine that night, the doorbell rang at the villa.
Mu Bai, who had been sitting on the sofa fully absorbed in watching TV, perked up curiously. The doorbell hadn’t rung even once in the past few months.
He looked toward the front hall, just in time to see Yan He rise from the sofa and go open the door.
From outside rushed in a young man with fiery red hair tied into a short ponytail at the back. His footsteps were quick and energetic as he greeted Yan He with bright enthusiasm, “Uncle!”
Unfortunately, his uncle was still the same as always, stoic and indifferent. Yan He only responded with a curt “Mm.”
Yan Zhang didn’t let it discourage him. He had long grown used to his uncle’s nature. In fact, he admired his uncle greatly, and trailed behind him like an eager puppy as they walked inside.
But the moment he stepped into the living room, Yan Zhang froze in surprise.
He saw his uncle.. his uncle who for eight hundred years had seemed completely detached from entertainment was actually sitting on the sofa with the TV turned on.
The program playing was one of the most popular comedy variety shows of the moment.
At first, Yan Zhang thought it must be a coincidence that his uncle had carelessly switched on the TV and wasn’t really watching.
But as he stepped in front of the screen and began chatting casually, he suddenly heard his uncle’s calm, faint voice, “Yan Zhang. Move a little. You’re blocking the TV.”
Yan He’s expression didn’t change, but out of the corner of his eye, he was watching the little ghost on the sofa.
The child ghost’s head had tilted so far over in concentration it looked like it might topple off the sofa entirely.
Yan Zhang, startled, quickly shuffled to the side, moving away from the screen.
It took him a while to process. Wide-eyed, he looked from the TV to his uncle, unable to reconcile the image of this man, who seemed utterly focused on a comedy show, with the impression of the aloof, disciplined uncle in his memories.
And that wasn’t all. On the sofa, Yan Zhang noticed not one, but two throw pillows.
His uncle who always sat with perfect posture, who never even leaned back in a chair was using throw pillows? That was unheard of.
Yan Zhang glanced at them carefully, suspiciously, only to hear his uncle’s voice again, “Come. I’ll go upstairs with you to get the books.”
He nodded reflexively, and before he realized it, he was already following his uncle up the stairs.
As they walked toward the storage room, Yan Zhang noticed something else strange. The corridor, which previously had no motion-sensing lights, was now lined with them.
Yan He pushed open the storage room door and told him, “Pick which manga you want to take back tonight.”
Yan Zhang nodded rapidly, like a pecking chick, and darted straight to the stack containing his most beloved volumes.
From the doorway, Yan He leaned against the frame, watching the red-haired youth clutch a pile of manga. A tickle made him turn his head aside to sneeze.
“Uncle, I’m done!” Yan Zhang said, hugging the books with a grin.
“I’ll just take these back tonight.”
Yan He gave a small nod, then pointed to the neatly organized stacks of other comics on the floor.
“Are these still available for purchase?”
Yan Zhang glanced over. “Those? Yeah, they’re not out of print, you can still buy them now.”
He lifted the volumes in his arms with pride. “But these I’m holding are irreplaceable. They’re all out-of-print editions.”
Yan He noticed that the manga his nephew had picked were exactly the ones the little ghost wasn’t interested in. He then asked, “Where can I buy the ones in that stack?”
Yan Zhang listed a few places and online shops, but couldn’t suppress his curiosity.
“Uncle… are you planning to buy them yourself?”
Yan He gave a slight nod. As they walked, he even asked Yan Zhang to recommend a few currently serialized manga.
Yan Zhang was stunned. He knew the agony of waiting for serialized updates all too well, so he quickly said,
“Uncle, if you’ve only just gotten interested, don’t bother with serializations. There are plenty of excellent completed series. You should start with those.”
But Yan He shook his head. “I only want serialized ones. Preferably ones you can’t easily find online.”
Yan Zhang scratched his head, baffled by his uncle’s reasoning, but still offered a few recommendations. Yan He noted down every title carefully.
On their way downstairs, Yan He noticed the little ghost staring at his nephew with a strangely familiar look.
Of course Mu Bai recognized Yan Zhang.
After all, his previous “bed-pressing target” had been none other than Yan Zhang.
Night after night, Mu Bai had faithfully gone to Yan Zhang’s home, waiting to feed on his spiritual energy. He thought he’d chosen well a young man fresh out of college should have abundant vitality.
But who could have predicted that Yan Zhang lived with his days and nights reversed? He slept during the day and stayed up all night drawing manga, pulling all-nighters constantly.
There were times when Mu Bai sat on the computer desk, swaying with drowsiness, while Yan Zhang remained wide-awake and bursting with energy. The man could outlast even a ghost when it came to sleepless nights.
Because of that choice, Mu Bai had gone hungry for quite a long while.
Even now, the memory made the little ghost shiver with lingering fear.
Thankfully, he had long since switched to a new “host.” These days, keeping his belly full was no problem at all. Relaxed, Mu Bai leaned back on the sofa, utterly content.
Meanwhile, Yan Zhang yawned, hugging his stack of books. “Uncle, I’ll head home first, then.”
But just as he was about to leave, Yan He suddenly called out to him.
Puzzled, Yan Zhang stopped and turned around, glancing between his uncle and the little ghost sitting on the sofa.
Yan He’s eyes lingered on the youth, then shifted to the ghost. Mu Bai, watching Yan Zhang’s tired movements, muttered with absolute certainty:
“He definitely pulled another all-nighter last night…”
Yan He looked back at his nephew and asked evenly, “What time did you sleep last night?”
Yan Zhang scratched his head with some embarrassment. “Last night? I… pulled an all-nighter.”
From the sofa came Mu Bai’s quiet mutter: “Knew it…”
Yan He was silent for a moment, then slowly asked, “And what exactly were you doing all night?”
Before Yan Zhang could open his mouth, the little ghost on the sofa sat cross-legged, counting on his fingers as he explained in detail
“First he rushed his manga drafts until around two in the morning, then he went to take a shower. After that, he played games for an hour, watched a movie, and finally around five he went out to buy breakfast. Only then did he crash.”
The ghost’s words matched Yan Zhang’s habits perfectly.
And almost the moment Mu Bai’s muttering ended, Yan Zhang opened his mouth to give the exact same account word for word.
Yan He pressed his fingers against his brow, a thought slowly surfacing.
There was a very real possibility that his nephew wasn’t the first person the little ghost had ever haunted
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ChaptersChapter 1 · New TargetChapter 2 · Pervert Little Ghost?Chapter 3 · Little one is MischievousChapter 4 · New MountChapter 5 · Fake Master?Chapter 6 · Blanket StolenChapter 7 · A presentChapter 8 · Rhino HornChapter 9 · Clinging like body PillowChapter 9 · Meeting Old FriendChapter 11 · Just like ChildChapter 12 · New AddictionsChapter 13 · Jinxed StarChapter 14 · Creeping out the old IdiotChapter 14 · Creeping out the old IdiotChapter 15 · New Set of ClothesChapter 16 · Big Wife, Little WifeChapter 17 · Chapter SE 17: Raising as A SonChapter 18 · Another Ghost?!Chapter 19 · Scared away the Evil ghostChapter 20 · NingNing’s SoulChapter 20 · Chapter SE 20: NingNing’s SoulChapter 21 · Green TeaChapter 22 · VisitChapter 23 · Turned into DollChapter 24 · Reunited with Yan HeChapter 25 · I’m UglyChapter 26 · I will stomp youChapter 27 · Ghost AgainChapter 28 · Looking for new HostChapter 29 · Just a BiteChapter 30 · Chapter SE 30: BurnChapter 31 · Trapped Again!Chapter 32 · Call me Lord Official….Chapter 33 · I devote myself to you completely…Chapter 34 · Husband or son?Chapter 35 · Ghost sleep during Day time….Chapter 36 · You could buy more than four thousand sticksChapter 37 · Gu TingChapter 38 · Looks familiarChapter 39 · You’re sleeping with my ancestor?!Chapter 40 · Great great great great GrandsonChapter 41 · We can afford itChapter 42 · HotpotChapter 43 · New StoryChapter 44 · Past Memories…Chapter 45 · Kidnapping Ancestor!Chapter 46 · Copy Buddhist scripturesChapter 47 · Ancestor Flew away…Chapter 48 · Xiao He might not be spending his birthday aloneChapter 49 · May everything go as you wishChapter 50 · I lied…Chapter 51 · Young Master turned into half humanChapter 52 · LettersChapter 53 · Lord OxChapter 54 · Male… destined love???Chapter 55 · A kindred spiritChapter 56 · Chapter SE 56: I like YouChapter 57 · Yan ZhangChapter 58 · Is two hours a bit too short?Chapter 59 · Going down the middle is indeed the correct choiceChapter 60 · Excel spreadsheetsChapter 61 · He had forgotten to tell A’Sheng.Chapter 62 · The person he disliked most had become the young mistress?Chapter 63 · Rip him to shredsChapter 64 · I was wrongChapter 65 · Lord Mu is very happyChapter 66 · I’m about to get marriedChapter 67 · I want to go on a date with youChapter 68 · You’d probably overturn the entire underworldChapter 69 · Head tableChapter 70 · It was meChapter 71 · Junior King of HellChapter 72 · His wife is a little ghost who lies on the bedChapter 73 · Chen LanChapter 74 · Sister in LawChapter 75 · Chapter SE 75: Pick up my boyfriend from workChapter 75 · Extra 1Chapter 76 · Can you still talkChapter 77 · Aren’t you going to ask about yourselfChapter 77 · Extra 3Chapter 77 · Extra 2Chapter 78 · How many ordinary little spirits dare fall in love with the Yan King?Chapter 78 · Extra 4Chapter 79 · I never realized that the bird man’s status was so high… Yan KingChapter 79 · Extra 5Chapter 80 · I’ve ridden on the little Yan King’s headChapter 80 · Extra 6Chapter 81 · Is… this very important?Chapter 81 · Extra 7Chapter 82 · Extra 8Chapter 82 · Young master… will you marry me?Chapter 83 · He’s just a stubborn little old manChapter 84 · End of Main StoryChapter 93 · Extra 9Chapter 94 · Extra 10