[readbar]
<<Previous |Index| Next>>
In less than four days, The little ghost had already dragged an unfamiliar wild ghost into the villa’s pool.
Yan He stood at the edge, face unreadable, watching the water ghost drifting about in the pool, wearing, no less, the brand-new trousers he had burned for the little ghost just days before.
One set of new clothes, shared between two spirits. One got the upper half, the other got the lower half.
If that wasn’t “a bond stronger than gold,” then what was?
The water ghost, blank-faced as always, floated lazily in the pool, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that the man not far away, hand dragging his suitcase, was staring directly at his new pants.
Turning his head, he whispered to the little ghost, “I still think… he really can see us.”
Something about that man didn’t feel like an ordinary mortal.
The little ghost clambered out of the pool, shook his head vigorously to fling away some water droplets, then with practiced ease climbed up onto Yan He’s shoulder.
Perched there, he waved a hand at the water ghost with calm assurance, see? proof. If the man really could see ghosts, how could he be sitting so quietly while one was perched on his very head?
The water ghost: “…”
The little ghost hopped down from his perch and drifted back into the pool. His voice was solemn as he warned, “He frightens easily. He’s scared of ghosts. Don’t go running around spooking him.”
The water ghost answered slowly, “Oh.”
Still, as his gaze fell back on the suitcase dragging man, whose expression gave away nothing.
A’Sheng silently slipped to the pool’s edge. Being what he was, he could glide from the water to the tiles without causing so much as a ripple.
Then he crouched in stillness, before suddenly lunging, hand darting straight toward the man’s ankle, swift and sharp as an ambush strike.
Such a move would have startled anyone, dragged out a reflex if nothing else.
But Yan He… stood unmoving. Calm, unruffled. He didn’t even spare a glance, eyes lowered, as though he truly saw nothing.
The water ghost faltered, hand suspended, and slowly drew it back.
Just then, Yan He lifted his head at an unhurried pace, brow furrowing as he looked out toward the pool where the water suddenly churned with inexplicable ripples.
He pressed his lips together, striking features shadowed with a trace of unease as though unsettled by the sight of water roiling for no reason in the dead of night.
Even someone who couldn’t see ghosts would have found such a sight disturbing.
The little ghost, who had watched the entire scene unfold, swam over and smacked the water ghost on the head, scolding with genuine anguish, “His courage is already small enough. Why did you have to scare him more?”
The water ghost: “…”
He opened his mouth, wanting to argue that the man hadn’t seemed timid at all. But before he could speak, Yan He turned his head aside, hand lightly covering his lips as he coughed softly, brows still drawn in faint worry.
The water ghost had never studied a word in his life. He couldn’t craft the clever arguments he wanted. So he simply stayed put in the pool, meekly enduring the scolding.
After several minutes of this, he glanced up again and what he saw almost made him choke.
There was Yan He, adjusting his cuff with deliberate elegance, lips curved ever so slightly, looking down from on high with the faintest mocking tilt.
Not a hint remained of that supposed “unease.”
The water ghost immediately grabbed the little ghost’s hand, tugging urgently. “Look! Look at him!”
Mu Bai turned his head, only to see Yan He gazing down at the pool with a furrowed brow, still exuding that air of mild apprehension.
The water ghost, frowning, struggled out a protest, “That’s not how he looked just now.”
Mu Bai gave him a dubious look.
The water ghost twisted his mouth, stiff face straining as he mimicked Yan He’s earlier sly, downward-curling smile, “He was like this.”
Mu Bai: “…”
He promptly shoved the ghost’s head under the water and muttered with fatherly patience, “It’s just the heat. Stay under longer and cool yourself down.”
Hallucinations brought on by the weather, that had to be it. Because such a twisted, crooked grin could never belong to the noble, restrained Yan He.
The water ghost let out a trail of defeated bubbles.
Up on the poolside, Yan He tilted his head, lips still faintly curved as he looked down into the pool at the wild ghost who had dared invade his home.
So what if they wore the same set of clothes? So what if he tried to frighten him?
In the end, all the ghost could do was meekly take his scolding from the little one.
Yet when Yan He eventually went downstairs to unpack, shower, and return to his room, the little ghost did not follow.
Towel draped over his head, he glanced at the empty bedroom and only then realized that the little ghost had no intention of coming down tonight.
Indeed, Mu Bai had decided to stay by the pool, keeping the nameless spirit company well into the night. Even by ten o’clock, he hadn’t drifted back to the bedroom.
So Yan He sat on the edge of his wide bed, calm and patient, waiting for the little ghost to grow tired of playing upstairs.
Half an hour passed. Still no sign.
By eleven o’clock, the villa’s lights suddenly went black. Every bulb in the vast house died at once, plunging everything into darkness save for the faint glow of courtyard lamps beyond the glass.
The water ghost floated on the pool’s surface, face still expressionless but his voice cautious, “Not me. I didn’t do it. I wasn’t trying to scare him.”
The little ghost coughed softly. “I know.”
Satisfied, the water ghost pulled him back into the pool, intending to soak a little longer. But just then, muffled thuds drifted down from the second-floor bedroom, furniture knocking over in the dark.
The little ghost turned, hesitating. After a moment he rose into the air, “I’m going up to check.”
The water ghost swung his head sharply. “What for?”
In a low voice, Mu Bai replied, “His courage is so small. With the power out… I have to make sure he’s alright.”
The water ghost was merciless, “What’s there to check? It’s just a blackout.”
But as soon as the words left him, more heavy crashes echoed from upstairs.
Mu Bai’s worry deepened, “No. I still have to go.”
And off he drifted toward the bedroom, leaving the water ghost staring after him in disbelief.
In his uneducated mind, only one image came. The little ghost was just like those foolish scholars in old tales, lured away by a cunning fox spirit.
Except, of course, that the one upstairs wasn’t a fox spirit at all but a man.
The water ghost sank gloomily to the bottom of the pool, sulking.
If he had known earlier that he wouldn’t even be able to argue back properly now, he thought, maybe he really should have learned to read a book or two back then.
Meanwhile, upstairs in the darkened bedroom, the little ghost slipped in quietly through the crack of the window.
Inside, the room was pitch black. The man sat on the bed in his pajamas, head slightly bowed, rubbing at his wrist. The bedside lamp had toppled to the floor in the confusion.
Not long after, the man stood, groping his way through the darkness, moving slowly toward the living room, no doubt to fetch his phone.
The little ghost drifted just ahead of him, subtly pushing aside a chair that blocked his way, shifting the phone on the table so it would fall right beneath the man’s searching hand.
And indeed, after fumbling for only a moment, Yan He found the phone. He flicked on its flashlight and, with that small glow, managed to locate the emergency lamp.
The little ghost followed him back to the bedroom, watching as Yan He set both the phone and the lamp carefully on the bedside cabinet, then bent to retrieve the fallen lamp.
Only when everything was in order again did Mu Bai breathe a quiet sigh of relief.
Just as he was about to hop down from the bed and leave, he froze.
The man who always carried himself with such calm composure was lying down now, lashes lowered, lips pressed tightly together. A trace of loneliness hung in his stillness.
The little ghost hesitated. He remembered clearly, despite the man being hailed outside as “President Yan” with all due respect and awe, that in truth, Yan He was faint-hearted. Easily unsettled.
After a brief pause, Mu Bai scrambled back up, burrowing into the quilt. Just as he always had, he nestled down by the man’s side.
Clumsily, he reached out and patted Yan He’s shoulder, just as his mother had once patted him when he was a child, soothing him into sleep.
But after several pats, the realization hit him, the man couldn’t see him nor could he feel his touch.
Still, when Mu Bai tilted his head back, he saw that the man’s brows which had been furrowed moments before, had softened, smoothed, as if on some invisible level he had indeed felt the comfort.
Brightening, the little ghost pressed closer, wriggling until he was snug against him.
Wrapped in the softness of the quilt, enveloped by a warmth of spirit he hadn’t touched in days, Mu Bai felt content, even drowsy. It was the most restful sleep he’d had in a long time.
What he didn’t notice, because his head was tucked down, was that in the darkness, Yan He opened his eyes. His lips curved faintly, and he cast a weightless glance toward the pool outside the bedroom window.
Out there, deep beneath the water, the water ghost suddenly sneezed.
Expression flat as ever, he rubbed at his nose. It felt uncannily like someone was gossiping about him behind his back.
But after thinking a while, he couldn’t pin down what it might be, so he sank once more to the bottom, waiting dutifully for the little ghost to return and report back.
He waited. And waited but no little ghost came back.
Surfacing, his expression darkened.
There was something wrong with the man downstairs. He’d felt it from the beginning! Yan He wasn’t quite like an ordinary mortal.
With that suspicion gnawing at him, the water ghost climbed out of the pool and scaled the glass wall, peering cautiously into the bedroom.
And there, he froze.
Inside, the little ghost was curled up comfortably in the man’s quilt, yawning so wide his head bobbed, nearly nodding off where he lay.
The water ghost: “?”
He clung to the windowframe, but dared not tap the glass. If he made a sound and startled the man, he’d only get scolded again by the little ghost.
So he edged himself along the window instead, inch by inch, until finally Mu Bai noticed him.
The little ghost immediately scrambled up and drifted to the glass.
The water ghost pressed his face against it, eyes bulging wide, “Didn’t you say, you were only going up to check on him?”
Mu Bai looked guilty. He turned his head and mumbled, “I really did just come up to check at first… but, well, his courage is so small, so I thought I’d stay a bit longer…”
Then, voice trailing off, he added even softer, “And besides, you know what it’s like. I’ve pressed close to him for so long… he’s become… very fragrant to me.”
The more he spoke, the guiltier he sounded, muttering at last, “It was too tempting… I couldn’t help myself…”
The water ghost was left speechless.
After all, for little ghosts like them, the pull of sustenance was indeed overwhelming.
With no rebuttal, he drifted back down to the pool, alone, soaking silently in the wide, empty water.
The next night.
Mu Bai, dragging the water ghost along with him, floated excitedly back into the villa, only to reach the third floor and stare dumbfounded.
The pool was empty. Completely drained.
He gawked at the dry basin, then at the enormous sign planted firmly before it:
POOL UNDER MAINTENANCE. DO NOT USE.
The water ghost, unable to read, leaned in close to scrutinize the big characters, as though willing them to reveal their secret.
Quietly, Mu Bai explained, “We can’t soak today.”
The water ghost’s face remained slack, his tone flat, “Why?”
The little ghost scratched his nose. “Because… the pool’s being repaired.”
It was strange. In all the time he’d spent here, it was the first time he’d seen the pool shut down for maintenance.
But thinking back on the inexplicable blackout the night before, then looking at the drained pool now, it somehow didn’t seem so surprising.
A pity, though. Poor A’Sheng, barely a few days of soaking, and now no pool left to soak in.
Reluctantly, Mu Bai had to send him away.
At first, he’d thought to let A’Sheng remain in the villa, perhaps in the giant glass fish tank in the living room.
But after some thought, he worried the water ghost might crawl out in the middle of the night and frighten Yan He, so he dismissed the idea.
And so, the vast villa was left with only himself and Yan He.
With no one to chatter with, the little ghost took to waiting early in the big bed, just as he had before curling under the quilt, waiting for Yan He to climb in beside him.
For some reason, after returning from his trip, Yan He went to bed much earlier than usual.
But many nights, though he got into bed early, he didn’t sleep straight away. More often, he leaned against the headboard, reading.
Time after time, Mu Bai would doze off first, oblivious to the fact that Yan He always lingered awake, watching him quietly for a long while before finally turning off the light.
The next evening.
The sky burned with flaming clouds, dazzling as they spread across the horizon.
In the office, bathed in that golden glow, Yan He’s private phone buzzed nonstop, falling quiet only to start vibrating again.
Yan He, seated in his office chair, glanced at his phone and saw that the incoming call was from his nephew, Yan Zhang.
He picked up immediately. On the other end, Yan Zhang’s voice was hurried and low, almost trembling. “Uncle… Ningning… something has happened…”
“My aunt is at the hospital… she’s crying so hard…”
Yan He’s expression stiffened, his calm façade sharpening into alertness. “What happened?”
Ningning was Yan Shu’s only child. Yan Shu was nearing forty, gentle in temperament, and adored by everyone in the younger generation.
Yan Zhang’s voice cracked as panic seeped through. “Aunt said that two days ago, Ningning started feeling unwell at kindergarten. That afternoon, the nanny brought Ningning home. He drank a couple of glasses of water and went to sleep…”
“He slept through the evening and wouldn’t wake up. By nighttime, he developed a high fever…”
“We rushed him to the hospital. His fever persisted all night, and he remained unconscious. Only later did it stabilize a little… But now… even though the fever is gone, Ningning has been unconscious for two full days.”
The more Yan Zhang spoke, the hoarser his voice became. “The hospital can’t find anything physically wrong… yet he just won’t wake up.”
“And it’s not just unconsciousness. His breathing has weakened over the past two days…”
At this, Yan Zhang could no longer speak, “Uncle… please, come and see for yourself…”
Yan He was silent for a moment. He slowly turned the prayer beads on his wrist to the tiger’s head, a signal that he understood, and ended the call.
Half an hour later, he arrived at the Yan family’s private hospital.
The lights were bright, the air sterile with the unmistakable scent of disinfectant. Yan He strode swiftly down the long corridor.
At its end, several people sat on the waiting chairs outside the ward. Seeing him approach, their eyes flicked sideways, a mixture of curiosity and respect.
He entered the ward.
This room was far from the usual sterile hospital environment. Playful stickers adorned the walls, toys were neatly arranged, and paper cranes hung gently in front of the window, swaying lightly with the breeze.
On the bed lay a small child with black hair, his face pale, eyes tightly shut. His chest rose and fell weakly.
The bedside table was cluttered with the child’s cherished items: gilded pendants, small toy cars, and several stacks of reward books plastered with stickers.
The woman nearing forty who sat by his side, Ningning’s mother, usually exuded warmth and elegance, but now her face was drawn and pale, matching the child’s pallor. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying.
She held the child’s hand, her head lowered, voice hoarse as she hummed a lullaby softly, occasionally calling out, “Ningning… come back to see Mama…”
Behind her, a man equally exhausted held her hand in one of his, trying with a strained, hoarse voice to urge her to rest. But she seemed deaf to his words.
Yan He stepped fully into the room. At the foot of the bed, Yan Zhang lowered his voice to call out, “Uncle…”
Immediately, every head in the room turned toward him. Even Yan Shu, seemingly oblivious to everything else, lifted her gaze to meet him.
Seeing Yan He, Yan Shu managed a faint smile, though tears continued to stream down her face. “Xiao He, you’re here…”
Yan He remained silent, greeting her with a simple nod.
Tears still streaming, Yan Shu lowered her head, picked up a small lion plush, and smiled weakly at her child. “Ningning… Uncle Xiao He is here to see you. Come back quickly… Come see Uncle Xiaohe, alright?”
The ward fell silent. Her husband, voice heavy with fatigue, whispered, “Xiao Shu…”
Everything on the bed belonged to six-year-old Yan Ning’s favorite toys.
A master had explained that the child’s soul had separated from his body. Only by keeping the child’s treasured items nearby and repeatedly calling his name could the soul be coaxed back.
The longer the separation persisted, the greater the risk. If left too long, the soul might never return.
Ignoring her husband, Yan Shu raised her tear-streaked face, her voice catching slightly as she pleaded with Yan He. “Xiao He… could you… please ask Master Hongbai for help? I know he’s traveling now, but maybe if you ask him… he could come back?”
“You remember when your soul separated as a child… didn’t Master Hongbai bring it back then?”
Rising to her feet, she pressed on, her voice trembling with urgency. “Xiao He… Ningning is still so young… he’s always been fragile, and now his soul has been gone for so long…”
Her husband, worn down to exhaustion, finally spoke, his face etched with pain. “Enough, Xiao Shu. There’s no such thing as a separated soul. All these attempts at summoning have been useless. Tomorrow we’ll arrange for a transfer and a full examination abroad. If nothing shows up here, surely it will elsewhere. That’s the only way to find out why he’s unconscious.”
A few moments of silence filled the room. Yan He lifted his head, forcing a hoarse smile. “Everyone else, please go home for now. I’ll discuss with Xiao Shu what to do next.”
The people in the ward immediately understood, this was a polite dismissal.
Soon, the visitors trickled out.
Those remaining in the corridor, seated on the long chairs, hadn’t expected the ward to empty so quickly. A few lingered, murmuring in low voices, speculating about what had happened.
“Yan Shu’s family is always so close to Yan He… no wonder something happened to their child.”
“I warned her not to let her child get too involved with Yan He, but she wouldn’t listen. Said it was nonsense…”
“Her own brother has gone abroad and never returns, yet Yan Shu still insists on inviting Yan He over during holidays…”
“I guess it’s just a matter of time… the child was affected, and now his soul has left…”
“So pitiful… the child is only five. The master said if a soul leaves too long, it might never come back…”
The murmurs buzzed quietly like a low hum. Yan Zhang, unable to tolerate the disparagement of his uncle, glared and ground his teeth. “What are you saying?”
The corridor fell silent instantly. Everyone turned to look at the man who had just emerged from the ward.
Dressed in a black suit, expression cold and indifferent, Yan He ignored the people on the chairs and strode down the corridor without so much as a glance.
Yan Zhang, eyes blazing with fury, glared at the men slouched in the leather chairs, then strode quickly after his uncle.
“Uncle, don’t listen to their nonsense…. ” he burst out angrily.
The Yan family had no shortage of unsavory relatives. When Yan He had first taken control of the company, his methods had been ruthless, leaving no sentiment behind as he purged the decision-makers.
Many family members had been forced out.
They had never forgiven him. Small-minded, fond of gossip, they flattered him to his face but cursed him behind his back.
Yan Zhang knew his uncle’s nature better than anyone, but hearing such words from the mouths of blood relatives still stung.
Worse, he feared that with so many of the family quietly distancing themselves, Yan He might begin to take it to heart.
After all, even the strongest heart was still flesh. Such barbed words could wound deeply.
So Yan Zhang spoke with uncharacteristic caution, “Uncle, don’t… don’t let those words get to you…”
Inside the elevator, Yan He rolled the string of prayer beads to the base of his thumb, turning them silently.
The elevator chimed and the doors slid open.
He stepped out without pause, saying only, in his calm, even tone, “It’s fine. Let them say what they will.”
Relieved, Yan Zhang began to relax until his uncle continued, voice still mild:
“But tonight, if you stay in the hospital ward… make sure they don’t remove the toys from Ningning’s bedside.”
Yan Zhang nodded quickly, almost tripping over his own words in his eagerness, “Alright, alright, I’ll make sure to persuade Aunt properly…”
Then, after a pause, he lowered his voice with uncharacteristic caution, as though afraid even the question itself might weigh too heavily, “Uncle… is Ningning really… a case of soul departure?”
Yan He didn’t answer. He only turned the string of prayer beads slowly between his fingers, each bead slipping soundlessly beneath his thumb, his face unreadable.
When he had visited the hospital room earlier, he had seen the faint, lingering yin aura curling around the child lying motionless on the bed. It was the sign of a wandering soul, one that had left the body behind.
And yet, children’s souls were far weaker than those of adults. Even if the soul wandered, it was fragile, easily scattered, and extremely difficult to call back.
What made the situation worse was the passage of time. This was not a matter of mere hours, the child’s soul had already been absent for two or three days.
With each day that passed, the thread connecting body and soul thinned further, stretching close to breaking.
No one could predict where a wandering soul might drift. If even the master that the Yan family had sought out could not summon the soul back, then the problem wasn’t fraud or incompetence.
It could only mean one thing: the child had been gone too long, and the bond was failing.
Once that thread weakened to such a degree, distance no longer mattered. Whether the soul was hovering nearby or lost in some far corner of the unseen world, it would be equally difficult to bring back.
And that was why Yan Ning’s breaths grew shallower and shallower on the hospital bed, why his fragile chest rose and fell with such dwindling strength.
The longer it continued, the slimmer the hope. A wandering soul not recalled in time might truly never return.
Yan He got into the car at last. He gave Yan Zhang a few terse instructions, matters that needed handling in his absence before starting the engine and steering the black car steadily out of the city, toward Kaiyuan Temple on the outskirts.
The sky outside deepened gradually, darkness spreading its veil.
Behind the wheel, Yan He’s expression was calm as ever, but beneath the composure a heaviness pressed against his heart.
A child’s life-soul was far weaker than that of even a minor ghost.
And once night fell, the dangers multiplied. The dark was thick with hungry things, malicious spirits that preyed upon souls weaker than themselves.
If Ningning’s fragile soul really had drifted into the night and been devoured by an evil ghost, then there would be no path of return at all.
Night descended.
In a narrow alley, dim streetlights flickered feebly, barely pushing back the dark.
A ragged crowd of little ghosts had gathered before a stick of burning incense. The smoke rose, glowing faintly, but before it could curl fully into the air, the pack swarmed it, snatching, grabbing, tearing it away until nothing remained.
Among them squatted Mu Bai, who sneezed when the sharp ash from the incense puffed into his face. He rubbed at his nose, glanced down, and realized he still held a single half-burned stick he had managed to seize. Not bad. A decent prize.
He was just about to shove it into his mouth when a faint, muffled sound reached his ears, a child’s sobbing, thin and weak.
Mu Bai turned his head, and sure enough, not far away beside a trash can crouched a small figure. It was a child, so gaunt and pale that even his crying sounded fragile, as if every hiccup might break him.
The little boy’s face, originally fair and tender, was now smudged with dirt and ash. His nose and eyes were red from weeping.
And yet, though tears streamed down his cheeks, he pressed a tiny hand against his mouth, as if afraid to let the sound escape, afraid that the ghost nearby might notice him.
Mu Bai fell silent.
He looked at the pitiful child, hiccupping, trying so hard to stifle his own cries and after a moment, he broke his incense stick in half. He held one piece out wordlessly.
The boy blinked, startled, tears still brimming in his reddened eyes. After a pause, he sniffled, stretched out a trembling hand, and accepted the offering. He hiccuped and sobbed as he whispered, “Th… thank you…”
Mu Bai was about to wave it off with a gruff “no need” but the child had already stuffed the incense into his mouth, gulped it down, and now stared up at him again, wide-eyed, tears glistening, clearly hoping for more.
Mu Bai: “…”
Without a word, he handed over the other half. The child took it, still crying softly, and once more said “thank you” in that polite, tremulous little voice.
When Mu Bai looked down, his hands were empty. He sighed, dusted off his knees, and was just about to drift back toward the villa when his left leg suddenly grew heavy.
His eyelid twitched. Looking down, he saw the grimy little boy clinging tightly to his leg.
The child’s voice, tearful yet earnest, piped up, “Uncle!”
Mu Bai: “…I’ve been dead for hundreds of years. How could I possibly be your uncle?”
But the boy pressed his face against him, sniffed softly, and then, as if reassured by the scent, declared stubbornly, “You are. You’re my uncle.”
Mu Bai bent down helplessly, ready to pry the child off and explain he truly wasn’t but before he could, the boy began crying again, hiccupping as he sobbed
“Uncle doesn’t want Ningning anymore…”
All around them, the other little ghosts had turned curious gazes on the scene.
Mu Bai, infamous among them for the farce of “seeking nineteen wives” at the graveyard, suddenly found himself the center of attention once more.
Whispers rippled through the ghostly crowd:
“He just finished searching for nineteen wives, and now he already has a kid?”
“Look! must be five or six years old!”
“Could it be from one of those wives, left in his care?”
“Maybe so… after all, the child did call him ‘uncle’…”
Mu Bai: “…”
The tips of his ears burned with embarrassment.
He forced himself to crouch and speak gently, “I’m not your uncle. You’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
But before the words could take root, a sudden shriek tore through the alley. The little ghosts scattered like startled birds, vanishing in every direction.
Mu Bai didn’t need to think. His body reacted first, instinct screaming what his mind already knew that evil ghosts had arrived.
They often prowled places like this, waiting for moments exactly like now when young spirits dropped their guard in the scramble for incense, to pounce and devour them.
Mu Bai spun to flee but his glance caught the small boy, still frozen in confusion, not running. His heart gave a violent lurch. In a single motion, he scooped the child into his arms and bolted.
The boy, shocked by the sudden speed, clung to him, voice trembling, “Uncle! slower!”
“Slower and you’ll be gone!” Mu Bai snapped, breathless as he sprinted, cloak flaring in the night air.
The boy latched onto his collar with both hands, clinging desperately as they soared across the city skyline.
Only after ten long minutes of flight did Mu Bai stagger, exhausted, to the villa window. Panting, he held the boy up by the waist, “Can you climb in?”
The child blinked honestly. “No. The teacher says we’re not allowed to climb windows at kindergarten.”
Mu Bai choked. He shifted, heaved the boy onto his shoulder, and let him scramble inside with his help.
The boy behaved very well, no fuss, no complaints.
They ended up sitting together on the sofa.
“Uncle… ” the boy said softly.
Mu Bai’s eyelid twitched again. He answered sternly, “I am not your uncle.”
The boy’s face fell, disappointment written plain as day.
Mu Bai hardened his tone. “You’ve mistaken me. I’m not him.”
The child’s eyes reddened again, brimming with fresh tears. Mu Bai lasted five seconds under that watery gaze before he sighed in surrender, “Fine. I’m your uncle.”
Immediately, the boy brightened, scrambling closer across the cushions.
But seeing him approach, still smudged from crawling out of a trash can, Mu Bai’s scalp prickled, “Wait! don’t come closer!”
The child froze mid-crawl, baffled.
Mu Bai hopped down, grabbed him by the collar, and declared, “Uncle’s going to give you a bath first.”
The child nodded meekly.
Carrying him under one arm, Mu Bai marched to the bathroom. He stripped the boy of his filthy clothes and planted him under the shower. With no soap at hand, he simply scrubbed the dirt off with his bare hands.
The boy swayed unsteadily beneath the water, head tilting side to side. “Uncle, it hurts when you scrub my head…”
Mu Bai muttered under his breath. How could it hurt? He washed A’Sheng’s head this way all the time.
Still, watching the little one wobble like a bowling pin, he relented. Rolling up his sleeves, he rummaged through the collection of bottles and jars until he unearthed something vaguely familiar.
Copying Yan He’s movements from memory, he poured a handful onto the boy’s head and lathered.
Soon, the bathroom was filled with bubbles. The child’s head foamed like a puffball, and Mu Bai scrubbed until he shone.
Satisfied, Mu Bai pulled him out again.
But then came the problem: the boy’s clothes. Reeking from the trash, they were unwearable.
Mu Bai scowled. After all that effort, he wasn’t about to put him back into that stench.
“Uncle… I’m cold…” the boy whispered, shivering.
One word “uncle” and Mu Bai’s resolve crumbled. Gritting his teeth, he stripped off his own robe, the gray one he had recently acquired from the cemetery, and wrapped the boy in it.
The child had never worn such a long garment. He beamed, twirling in the oversized robe, pure delight shining through.
As for Mu Bai, dressed only in his white inner garments, he felt exposed at first. But after a while, he got used to it.
The boy behaved well, sitting obediently on the sofa in his robe.
Mu Bai folded his legs beside him and said seriously, “At night, you mustn’t wander. Uncle has important matters upstairs. You stay here, understand? Sit properly, and you’ll get more incense later.”
The boy nodded quickly, eyes sparkling.
Satisfied, Mu Bai glanced at the clock on the wall. Yan He wouldn’t be back so soon. He hopped down, switched on the television, and was rewarded with an awestruck look from the boy.
Mu Bai puffed up a little, trying to sound casual as he asked, “What do you want to watch?”
The boy pointed eagerly at an animated show on the screen. “Uncle, that one!”
Mu Bai pressed the remote, frowned. “Not that one. It needs a subscription. I don’t have one.”
So instead, he picked a free movie and played it. The boy didn’t mind, snuggling close and watching with sparkling eyes.
The hours ticked by. One movie ended, then another began. The vast living room glowed faintly with the flickering light.
By the time the clock struck eleven, the rumble of an engine sounded outside. A black Maybach rolled silently into the courtyard.
Inside, the man at the wheel sat still for a long moment, hand resting on the steering wheel, fatigue carved deep into his features.
His mind wandered back to when his cousin Yan Shu had been pregnant. At the time, her family had quietly urged him not to come by, whispering fears that his presence would bring misfortune. He had obeyed, keeping his distance.
But Yan Shu herself had never minded. She had welcomed him, smiling, speaking with the warmth of a true elder sister.
She would often say the child in her belly did not fear him, that he shouldn’t let the family’s superstitions weigh him down.
Now that same cousin wept by a hospital bed, holding her son’s limp hand, smiling through tears as she begged him to seek out Master Hongbai, to save the child’s life.
Yan He closed his eyes briefly. The fatigue in his expression deepened further.
At last, he opened the car door, stepped out, and unlocked the electronic gate.
The villa’s living room was dark, save for the flickering glow of the movie on the wall.
He shut the door softly behind him and walked toward the sofa.
He bent down and picked up the remote control from the sofa. But when he raised his head again, he froze in place.
On the soft sofa, the little black-robed ghost was sleeping soundly, cradling a child in his arms. Both of them had dozed off.
The child’s skin was pale and tender. Wrapped in the ghost’s grey robe, he clung tightly to the ghost’s neck, his little face pressed against him, eyes closed, breathing evenly, a picture of quiet dependence.
The ghost himself was dressed in white sleepwear. Only half of his cheek was visible beneath soft, dark hair that had fallen across his brows. His lashes were long, his breathing shallow.
At the neckline of the white sleepwear, there peeked out a thread of crimson cord, finely interwoven with glimmers of gold.
It looked like a piece of exquisite craftsmanship, the kind of adornment one could easily imagine being precious beyond measure.
The youth’s arms held the child close. The boy was curled tightly in his embrace, and the two of them were nestled together on the sofa, fast asleep.
On the television, the cartoon they had been watching had already reached its ending theme. The child seemed unusually sensitive to this; even in his drowsy state he stirred, blinking his eyes open.
He found himself looking straight into the eyes of the man kneeling before the sofa.
The boy brightened at once and whispered happily, “Uncle… ”
Yan He’s throat shifted. After a long pause, he answered hoarsely, “Mm.”
“Yan Ning, be good. Sit up now.”
“Move gently, don’t wake the brother lying on you.”
The boy obeyed at once, carefully climbing out of the ghost’s arms.
The ghost seemed fast asleep still, head tilted slightly to the side of the sofa, breathing quiet and light.
The boy clambered down, sniffled softly, and said, “Uncle, Ning Ning wants to go home.”
A few days ago, he had woken up in some strange place he had never seen before. He had walked for what felt like forever, exhausted, thirsty, but could never find the road home.
It was as though the path had been swallowed by fog, hidden away no matter how hard he tried to recall it.
Yan He gave a quiet nod. “Alright. Uncle will take you home.”
The child’s face lit up. Following closely behind him, he asked, “Uncle Xiao He, I haven’t gone home in so many days. How is my mom?”
Yan He led him toward the door, speaking softly: “She’s been missing you very much these days. She cried for a long time.”
The child’s expression faltered, guilty. He explained in his childish voice that he hadn’t meant to get lost. He didn’t even know what had happened, he had simply woken up in a strange place.
Yan He opened the car door and watched the boy climb inside, obediently fastening his seatbelt.
“It isn’t your fault,” he said.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, he added, “When Uncle was little, I got lost once too and when you’re lost… sometimes very bad people will want to eat you. So next time, if you ever get lost again, don’t wander around. Stand where you are, and think hard about your family.”
The boy nodded fiercely. “I won’t go with bad people. I went with another uncle instead. He smelled like you. He gave me food, helped me take a bath, gave me clothes, and even let me watch TV.”
Yan He glanced through the rearview mirror. The boy was still wrapped in that oversized grey robe. His gaze quieted. After a moment, he murmured, “He is very good. Uncle knows that too.”
The boy clutched the robe fabric tightly, and with great seriousness instructed: “Uncle Xiao He, you must buy him other clothes. Ning Ning wore his clothes, now he has nothing left to wear.”
Yan He nodded.
The boy continued earnestly, “And Uncle Xiao He, you also need to buy him a TV membership.”
As he drove, Yan He said simply, “Alright.”
That night, the boy talked more than usual. He sat in the back seat, chattering the whole way.
When they arrived at the hospital, Yan He helped him out of the car and guided him toward the ward.
As they neared the door, the boy seemed to realize something. Looking up hesitantly, he asked, “Uncle Xiao He… will I ever see that other uncle again?”
Yan He crouched to meet his gaze. “Yes, Uncle promises.”
The boy’s eyes brightened. He smiled, showing his little tiger teeth, and happily reminded him once more, “Then Uncle Xiao He, you must buy him new clothes, okay?”
Yan He nodded.
Content, the boy skipped into the ward.
Yan He straightened, standing at the doorway. It wasn’t long before he heard the sound of his cousin’s choked sobs of relief. She clutched the child so tightly she was nearly in tears.
The boy nestled in her arms, laughing as he announced, “It was Uncle Xiao He who brought me back… Ning Ning walked and walked for so long, but could never find the way home…”
For a moment, the adults in the room all stared at one another in bewilderment. Only gentle, soft-faced Yan Shu held the boy close, stroking his head as tears streamed down.
“Mommy knows… Mommy knows your Uncle Xiao He would definitely bring you back…”
Yan Shu’s husband, however, seemed to realize something. He turned toward the doorway, catching sight of a trailing edge of black cloth.
Meanwhile, the child clumsily dabbed at his mother’s tears, whispering, “Mom, let me tell you a secret. Someone else brought me back too! He looks just as good as Uncle Xiao He. Uncle Xiao He said he’s a very, very good person. Uncle Xiao He also said… if possible, he’ll take me to see him again next time.”
_________________
🔮 Cresvynia [Translator]
🥐 Sweet bites ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
This chapter was so long but it was so cute! NingNing and Mu Bai’s bonding and Yan He and Yan Shu’s bonding!!
We completed 20 chapters! Yessss! I feel so happy, please let me know if there’s any issue with my translation or it’s not clear! I will work on it! Thank you all who read the novel so far! ✨ 💖
🕯️✨ Incense Stick Feed ✨🕯️
(Help me absorb energy from my meal ticket😋)
<<Previous |Index| Next>>
← PreviousNext →
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 · Young master… will you marry me?Chapter 82 · Extra 8Chapter 83 · He’s just a stubborn little old manChapter 84 · End of Main StoryChapter 93 · Extra 9Chapter 94 · Extra 10