The moment Zhou Fuzhen snapped back to reality, she immediately burst into cheers.
She rushed over and hugged Jiang Wei. Though she was roughly the same height as Jiang Wei, she insisted on resting her head on Jiang Wei’s shoulder, wearing a proud expression like someone who had just been rescued and protected by a hero.
Catching sight of her parents still looking utterly dazed out of the corner of her eye, she puffed out her chest and spouted grandly: “Mom, Dad, you guys are totally useless. It still takes the master I hired to get the job done!”
“Turns out the real master is right on campus.” Old Zhou wiped his face. Regardless of who hired the master, it looked like they wouldn’t need to sell the house and move after all. That was great—oh, that was simply wonderful!
Recalling how Master Puyi hadn’t even bothered to bid them farewell before packing up and fleeing overnight on the first train out, Old Zhao felt both deeply mortified and furious to the core. Her only shred of solace was that she hadn’t settled the bill with Master Puyi yet, which made her anger subside just a fraction.
“The sleep paralysis from before was likely caused by that little ghost, but now the little ghost is gone.” Jiang Wei slotted her peach-wood sword back into her canvas bag and brushed off her sleeves, as if shaking away bad luck.
After Old Zhou offered a continuous stream of grateful thanks to Jiang Wei, he immediately turned his attention back to Old Zhao to settle accounts:
“Look at what kind of garbage you went and bought.”
Old Zhao let out a “yikes” and stubbornly argued back: “At least what I bought was the real deal. Our fortune blooming is definitely tied to its blessings.”
“Oh, give me a break. Blessings definitely weren’t a thing, but it damn near cost us our lives,” Old Zhou insisted with a raised brow. “No more bringing these messy, shady things into the house from now on.”
“Understood, understood,” Old Zhao agreed repeatedly. Feeling rather awkward, she smiled sheepishly at Jiang Wei, then instructed the housekeeper to clean out the Buddhist shrine room. While supervising the cleanup, she muttered that she wouldn’t believe in Buddhism anymore—she was switching to Daoism instead. Observing the peach-wood sword Jiang Wei had used, she naturally assumed Jiang Wei was a Daoist Celestial Master as well.
When she turned around to invite Jiang Wei to sit for a while in the living room, every “Master Jiang” that rolled off her tongue was vastly smoother and more practiced than before.
Zhang Qianyu followed the crowd into the living room, sitting down to gulp down cup after cup of tea while still remaining thoroughly dazed. Anyone who had practiced for so many years only to suddenly bump into a genuine ghost would need a good long moment to decompress; after all, their entire worldview was currently undergoing reconstruction.
It wasn’t until his eyes landed on the peach-wood sword inside the canvas bag Jiang Wei had left on the sofa that he regained a bit of his wits. Taking advantage of Old Zhou’s trip to the restroom and Old Zhao chatting with Zhou Fuzhen about what to have for dinner to celebrate, Zhang Qianyu hurried over to Jiang Wei with gleaming eyes and asked:
“Master Jiang, can I add your contact information?”
Jiang Wei hesitated slightly, prompting Zhang Qianyu to add with extreme courtesy: “Situations like today, where someone hires me over for an exorcism, happen quite often throughout the year. If I ever run into sleep paralysis again—well, of course, it’s best if I never run into it again, but just in case—”
A look of timely pleading surfaced in his eyes.
Finding it rather difficult to refuse after that, Jiang Wei pulled out her phone and let him scan her QR code.
Zhang Qianyu produced his own phone. For someone of such ethereal, immortal demeanor, the digital gadget he used was anything but antique—it was the latest and most expensive model currently on the market.
As Jiang Wei held up her phone to let him open WeChat, her peripheral vision suddenly caught that the code she had pulled up wasn’t her friend-add QR code, causing her to quickly retract her phone with a snap.
Zhang Qianyu’s hand remained frozen mid-motion for scanning, and when he looked up, his expression was as aggrieved as a discarded wife’s.
Reminded instantly of the pitiful, helpless look Zhang Qianyu wore while lying on the ground when she led everyone back to the shrine room to rescue him, Jiang Wei nearly failed to hold back her laughter. Promptly reigning in her expression, she said with solemn earnestness:
“Sorry, I don’t usually add strangers on here, and I pulled up the wrong QR code just now. What I opened earlier was my payment receiving code.” Charging people money right upon a first meeting was generally rather inappropriate, haha. Jiang Wei chuckled and brought up the correct friend-add QR code for him instead.
Only then did Zhang Qianyu’s expression relax. As if terrified she might change her mind, he scanned the code with blazing speed. Once he confirmed she had accepted, he contentedly hugged his phone and sat back down to continue sipping his tea and clearing his head, as though adding her as a friend had granted him an immense surge of safety.
While Old Zhao and Zhou Fuzhen discussed dinner options, Zhou Fuzhen meticulously listed out everything Jiang Wei loved to eat, sounding far more familiar with Jiang Wei’s tastes than Jiang Wei herself.
With the dishes for the evening meal finalized, Old Zhao called the housekeeper to make detailed arrangements.
Knowing when to take his leave, Zhang Qianyu stood up and, with a somewhat embarrassed expression, said to Old Zhou as he emerged from the restroom:
“Boss Zhou, I never expected we’d run into such a vicious little ghost this time. My preparations on this end weren’t thorough enough, and I failed to live up to your trust.
“Sigh, my senior martial brother calculated that I was bound to face a major tribulation recently, but I never expected it would manifest right here.”
Followed by another round of heavy sighs.
“You’ve worked hard, Celestial Master Zhang. I’ll treat you to a meal another day to help you shake off the fright.” Being a seasoned man of the world, Old Zhou respectfully escorted Zhang Qianyu out the door all the same.
During dinner that evening, Zhou’s mother indignantly chimed in: “Zhang Qianyu is just a fraud. Why are you still treating him to a meal?”
“At least Celestial Master Zhang actually went up and slashed the little ghost with a sword. Not only did he not run off until he was completely out of sight, but he also damn near died in our house,” Old Zhou retorted, before launching back into his nagging: “And isn’t all this entirely the disaster you brought upon us?”
“At least what I bought was real; whatever you brought in was sheer fraud,” Old Zhao huffed.
“The ghost was real. Even as a fraud, that so-called Chan master completely lacked professional integrity.”
While the couple bickered back and forth, Zhou Fuzhen loudly cut in to hijack the conversation: “Thank goodness we had our Master Jiang.”
Old Zhou and Old Zhao glared at each other for a second, then simultaneously turned to shower Jiang Wei with thanks, continuously piling food onto Jiang Wei’s plate—large crab claws and big chicken drumsticks were all heaped onto her bowl.
As someone acting as a Celestial Master for the very first time, Jiang Wei wasn’t yet accustomed to such high levels of respect and enthusiastic attention, and she repeatedly muttered, “Thank you, Uncle,” “Thank you, Auntie.” After the lavishly hospitable banquet wrapped up, the atmosphere remained warm, harmonious, and thoroughly enjoyable for both hosts and guest.
As night fell, a lingering trace of unease remained in the hearts of the Zhou family, so Jiang Wei stayed over for the night in Zhou Fuzhen’s bedroom.
With the night passing peacefully, all three members of the Zhou family slept soundly, finally allowing everyone to set their minds at ease.
The following morning brought another lavish breakfast spread, resembling a traditional Cantonese dim sum brunch—various pastries and light bites arrived steaming in cage after cage and plate after plate. Jiang Wei secretly messaged Zhou Fuzhen: [You guys live like emperors.]
Zhou Fuzhen chuckled like a little chick upon glancing at her phone, replying: [It’s not like every day is like this. My mom only put on such a massive production today because she had to host Master Jiang.]
Following the meal, Old Zhou arranged for a driver to take them back to campus. Right before they headed out the door, Old Zhao stopped Zhou Fuzhen and shoved two large red envelopes into her hands: “For Master Jiang.”
Those two red packets had originally been prepared for Zhang Qianyu and Master Puyi, and now they were all going straight to Master Jiang instead.
Zhou Fuzhen hefted them in her hand. “Why is there so little?”
Old Zhao blinked in surprise, thinking how daughters always tended to side outwards. “Are you really turning your elbows out like that?”
“Even a fraud charges a hefty sum, and we’re the real deal here. If it weren’t for Weiwei, our whole house would’ve been finished.” Zhou Fuzhen curled her lip.
“Where on earth is the family supposed to have this much cash lying around ready?”
“We’re off!” Zhou Fuzhen smiled, taking the money as she stepped out the door.
On the way back, Zhou Fuzhen tried shoving the cash into Jiang Wei’s canvas bag. Jiang Wei hastily pushed it away, but Zhou Fuzhen smiled and said: “Just take it, otherwise it’ll just end up swindled by frauds anyway.”
“Look at me, I’ve practically become a wealthy woman now.” Jiang Wei hugged the money and looked up at Zhou Fuzhen.
“Oh, we’re nowhere near that yet. The real fortune-making is still ahead of us. First, start thinking about how you’re going to spend all that cash once you become a multi-billionaire.”
“Hahaha.”
…
Upon returning to the dorm room, Zhou Fuzhen was still riding a wave of excitement. Everything she had experienced was far more thrilling than any haunted house she had ever visited in the past—after all, it was real.
And fortunately, it had ended safely without any tragic mishaps.
To be honest, Jiang Wei was equally thrilled. Zhou Fuzhen hadn’t even been the one to actually wield the sword and slash. Thinking back to how she had walked over with trembling steps yet managed to hack the little ghost into fleeing with a single strike, the exhilaration that surged through her after the shock wore off… how should she put it? It felt just like someone who always assumed they couldn’t run an 800-meter dash suddenly breezing through a 1,500-meter run; like someone who always felt they could never pass the CET-4 English exam effortlessly passing CET-6 instead.
The minute details of that moment might fade over time, but that feeling would likely remain etched in her memory for a very, very long time.
As an ordinary girl who had suddenly stumbled into an astonishing supernatural encounter and unlocked abilities that even caught herself by surprise, Jiang Wei felt practically like the protagonist of a story. It was simply too magical.
This entire experience left her feeling far less anxious about the Descent Value, which had climbed up to 21.1%.
Simply reviewing the appearance and growth patterns of the Descent Value, a clear conclusion could easily be deduced—slaying and striking down the little ghost caused her domain to expand its power while suppressing the little ghost’s strength. However, borrowing the power of the domain caused the level of descent to steadily increase.
If the Descent Value hit 100%… what would happen then?
Staring at the figures on her phone, Jiang Wei sat in a daze, letting her imagination run wild with speculative deductions.
Time ticked by second by second. Seeing that her roommates, who had gone off to study at the library, were about to return, Jiang Wei opened her phone once more to browse through the dark-framed app. Very quickly, she noticed that a small red dot had appeared over the [Blessings] tab.
Tapping it open, she found that aside from [A Pool of Viscous Blood], a new item had been added: [Guman Thong]
“Oh~” Jiang Wei tapped on the “card” with eager anticipation, much like drawing a pet in a gacha game. To her surprise, the little ghost didn’t materialize right in front of her like a Pikachu.
She opened her domain once again, connecting with the dark-framed app through her “omniscience” ability. The exact moment her mind thought about releasing the [Guman Thong], the little ghost actually appeared right there on the dorm room’s tile floor—even though she had summoned it herself, having this bizarre creature suddenly pop up on the floor still caused Jiang Wei to draw in a sharp, startled breath.
When she was fighting and striking it down earlier, she hadn’t dared to examine it closely. Now, getting a clear look up close, it felt even more spine-chilling.
It seemed slightly smaller than before. Its entire body was cyan-gray, and its shriveled skin looked identical to the mummified corpses seen online. Viewing it at such close quarters was still a bit too terrifying.
Lacking any commands from her, the little ghost remained completely motionless. This level of controllability gradually helped her conquer her fear.
Creeping closer step by step, she took several deep puffs of air before finally mustering the courage to extend her index finger and poke the little ghost’s cyan-black tinted forehead—her finger went right through it.
Her fingertip felt ice-cold, and the creature was actively radiating a gloomy, chilling aura.
Jolting with a shiver, she pulled her finger back. Lowering her head, she locked eyes with the two pitch-black sockets where the little ghost’s eyes should have been. Her heart sank, and she nearly tumbled backward onto the floor.
There was a reason why merchants turned every conceivable movie and anime character under the sun into plush toys, yet no one ever made a plush toy out of a little ghost. Even knowing it couldn’t hurt her, it was still terrifying enough to scare a person out of their wits.
Who on earth would want to cuddle it to sleep? Even if you turned it into a fuzzy stuffed animal, it still wouldn’t work!
Crouching on the floor and shuffling backward a couple of steps, Jiang Wei recalled how the little ghost had pressed down on her during the chest-crushing incident. Since this thing could make a person gasp for breath, it meant it was capable of taking on a physical form.
With that thought in mind, she looked back down at the little ghost, shifted her intent, and reached out to poke it again. Her fingertip genuinely made contact with a solid object this time—cool, hard, extremely dry. The tactile sensation couldn’t exactly be called pleasant, but it wasn’t nearly as terrifying as she had imagined.
It felt just like a piece of deadwood left out to dry in a freezing winter storm for a month.
She was about to become the first woman in the world to poke a little ghost on the forehead.
After a brief moment of thought, Jiang Wei slowly stretched both hands out toward the little ghost’s armpits. Overcoming her psychological barrier, she hardened her heart, gritted her teeth, and became the first woman in the world to lift a little ghost up into the air just like a toddler.
Hardening her heart and gritting her teeth once more, she also became the first woman in the world to cradle a little ghost in her arms.
Not even a full second later, she dropped the little ghost right back onto the floor.
The feeling of holding it was simply too dreadful; she was never going to do that again. Even someone like Zhou Fuzhen, who had always loved ghouls and ghosts and claimed that if real ghosts existed she’d dare sleep hugging one, probably wouldn’t last more than a single second holding this thing.
Letting out an exhale, she stood up and paced a circle around the little ghost.
It seemed that blessing items could only manifest inside her domain and couldn’t be brought out into the real world at large.
Lying back down on her bed, Jiang Wei commanded the little ghost to come press down on her. Its strength steadily increased, but because Jiang Wei could manipulate it, she always harbored the reassuring confidence that “she could flip it over at any moment she pleased.” Consequently, even though its weight grew heavier and heavier, her panic never spiraled out of control.
However, she finally understood why Zhou Fuzhen had experienced a fatal sense of crisis and intense terror when she was pinned down. The icy-cold sensation on her chest, the chilling touch of limbs pressing against her body, and the overwhelming feeling of suffocation were all far too intense for anyone to endure—it was bad enough when the little ghost remained invisible, but if it manifested its terrifying face right inches away from yours, Jiang Wei seriously doubted a person could be scared out of their wits and literally die of fright.
When it pressed down on her chest, Jiang Wei could definitively confirm that it had indeed shrunk compared to before. It seemed getting beaten down, slain, and reeled into the [Blessings] interface of the dark-framed app shrank its physical size.
With another flick of Jiang Wei’s mental intent, the little ghost released the pressure pinning her down. Though it still slumped over her chest, she could no longer feel its weight at all.
Sitting up, she instructed it to crawl to the left, and it crawled to the left. She told it to crawl to the right, and it crawled to the right. When she told it to cry, it widened its mouth and let out that eerie, bone-chilling, mournful wail exactly as she pictured.
Retracting her domain, the little ghost vanished right back into the [Blessings] page of the dark-framed app.
Opening her domain once more, she could place the little ghost wherever she pleased, letting it appear anywhere within the range of her domain.
Utterly at her beck and call—it felt incredible.
Though the thing was hideous and terrifying, Jiang Wei was still thrilled. She had finally acquired her very own “Pikachu,” even if it wasn’t cute in the slightest and its cries weren’t adorable either.
Turns out “blessing items” weren’t just something you could fish out by spending 100 fear value points from the [Abyss] interface; you could also hunt them down by slaying ghosts.
If she went out ghost-hunting whenever she had free time, could she potentially build her very own little-ghost legion?
Just imagine: with a single wave of her hand, hundreds of little ghosts lining up in formation to launch an attack—how insanely cool would that be? If Zhou Fuzhen saw this, she’d definitely be shrieking with excitement; Zhenzhen just loved that kind of dark, spooky stuff.
Putting away her phone, Jiang Wei felt a complex mixture of emotions swirling inside her. Her life seemed to have fundamentally and thoroughly changed, though she had no idea which direction it was ultimately heading.
She felt a vague, excited anticipation alongside a lingering worry over an uncontrollable future.