After finishing this class, and before Bai Lixin could find an excuse to look for Dr. Dijia, the other party took the initiative to call him over.
“Even though psychology is just an elective, you still need to make up for missed classes.” The doctor spoke while walking.
Bai Lixin’s gaze lingered on the back of the doctor’s slender neck, noticing the faint blue veins under his skin and the bobbing Adam’s apple. He murmured, “Yes, I need to make up for them.”
He followed Dr. Dijia all the way to his private office, watching as he opened the door and gestured for him to enter. “Come on in.”
Bai Lixin swallowed hard. He felt like Dr. Dijia was a pitiful little lamb inviting a starving wolf into his den, waiting to be devoured.
Hesitating for even a second would be disrespectful to the little lamb.
Without another word, Bai Lixin entered Dr. Dijia’s office.
The office was more furnished than the last time he had visited. The small room had a desk and a single bed placed against the wall.
‘Does he take naps here during school hours?’
The doctor kindly took a candy out of his pocket and handed it to Bai Lixin. “Here, have some candy.”
The young man took the candy, popped it into his mouth, and bit into it with a loud crunch, sneaking glances at the composed, elegant doctor.
‘First, the candy.’
‘Then, you.’
When teaching, Dr. Dijia never wore a lab coat; his attire was always simple—a shirt with an overcoat.
He was tall, with broad shoulders, a slim waist, and long legs, perfectly accentuating the coat’s style on him.
“You look pale,” Dr. Dijia leaned in, a concerned look on his face. “Didn’t sleep well last night?”
Bai Lixin followed along, “Yes, I had trouble sleeping, and now I’m feeling a bit drowsy.”
Dr. Dijia: “Do you have another class coming up?”
Bai Lixin: “No.”
“I don’t either,” Dr. Dijia pointed to the only bed in the room. “Go ahead and rest for a bit. I’ll wake you when it’s time to go home.”
Bai Lixin couldn’t have asked for more, but he tried to act with the reserve of a modest student, hesitating for a moment before heading to the bed.
After quietly lying down, he felt his consciousness begin to sink, and that familiar sense of dizziness returned.
When he regained awareness, he opened his eyes to see a broad back in front of him.
Bai Lixin pinched his hand but felt no pain—his soul had already left his body.
He tiptoed around to stand before Dr. Dijia, realizing that the doctor had also fallen asleep.
The man was leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. His head was slightly tilted back, and his jawline connected his neck in a sharply beautiful curve.
His eyes were slightly closed, lashes faintly trembling. When he looked closely, he could see the subtle movement of his eyes beneath the lids.
Was the doctor dreaming?
Habits can be a terrifying thing. As Bai Lixin gradually grew used to this way of absorbing energy to survive, he also slowly discarded his former sense of ethics and morals.
“Dr. Dijia, I’m so sorry, I’ve come to intrude again.”
Bai Lixin sat on the man’s lap and leaned forward to take in the scent around his neck. “Doctor, you smell so nice.”
“Your shoulders are so strong, who would’ve thought that under that lab coat, there’s such a solid build. I’m really envious.”
“I’m going to kiss you now. If you disagree, just shake your head.”
“You haven’t said anything, so I’ll take that as consent.”
When people are embarrassed, they often try to busy themselves with something.
Even though this was Bai Lixin’s second time, he was more nervous than the first.
The first time, it had been in a dark room with Dr. Dijia lying on the bed; he could completely pretend that the doctor was asleep and unaware.
But it was daylight now, with a faint gap in the curtains revealing a view of the playground outside.
From Bai Lixin’s angle, he could see the students playing ball on the field, but they couldn’t see him.
Dr. Dijia’s office was on the fourth floor, so the students on the field couldn’t see up here.
But Bai Lixin could see them.
Not to mention, today Dr. Dijia wasn’t lying on the bed but was sitting in a chair.
Bai Lixin was always tense.
One moment, he worried that someone on the playground might see him.
The next, he feared Dr. Dijia might wake up and catch him.
Bai Lixin could only keep muttering to himself to ease his embarrassment and nerves.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, which startled Bai Lixin so much he almost fell off Dr. Dijia’s lap.
The young man subconsciously clung to the man’s neck to steady himself.
Like a thief, he glanced nervously at the closed door, afraid of being caught.
Outside, he heard a few students talking.
“Is Teacher Dijia not in his office?”
“The door’s locked.”
“Is he not here? I was going to turn in my assignment.”
“I think I saw him come back earlier. Maybe he didn’t hear us?”
Even though he knew people couldn’t hear him, Bai Lixin still subconsciously held his breath.
Suddenly, he felt something, and his spine stiffened.
The young man looked down. The arms crossed over the man’s chest had somehow slid down, and one hand was now resting on his waist.
Bai Lixin looked at the man before him nervously.
The man’s brows furrowed slightly, as though he was about to wake up.
Bai Lixin panicked and immediately thought of getting off his lap.
But just as he got up, the hand on his waist tightened.
Bai Lixin’s body fell uncontrollably, and through the fabric, he could feel something hard pressing against his tailbone.
He looked at the man before him again.
Had he been caught?
Could he actually see him?
Should he make an excuse?
The knocking outside lasted for a while and eventually stopped, and the footsteps grew distant.
The room fell silent again, but Bai Lixin didn’t relax.
He stayed tense, his gaze focused on the man’s face close by.
He could feel that the man’s hand had not settled down but was instead caressing up and down along his waist.
Yet his eyes remained closed.
Was he awake or not?
Just as Bai Lixin was puzzled, the man mumbled a few words in his sleep, “Good puppy.”
Bai Lixin’s tense heart suddenly relaxed, and he let out a long sigh.
So he was dreaming about his pet.
The sweet scent continuously teased his taste buds, and Bai Lixin’s hunger grew stronger…
When he became fully awake, the doctor was still asleep.
“Doctor, wake up.”
“Mm?” Dr. Dijia rubbed his eyes, his voice hoarse, “Sorry, I fell asleep.”
He cleared his throat. “My throat is so dry.”
His voice was husky and it carried a hint of languid tiredness.
Bai Lixin lowered his head quietly, “Teacher, I’m rested. I’ll head back now.”
Dr. Dijia got up and poured himself a glass of water, then casually pointed to a notebook on the corner of the desk, “Don’t forget to take the notes with you. I’ll quiz you in the next class.”
Bai Lixin: “Oh, okay.”
On his way back, Bai Lixin received a message from Song Yuantian, asking him to come over that evening.
Bai Lixin also happened to have questions for Song Yuantian, so he put down his bag as soon as he got home and headed straight to Song Yuantian’s place.
Today, the border collie in Song Yuantian’s yard was especially docile. For the first time, it didn’t bark at him, but wagged its tail at him instead.
It’s said that animals have spiritual insight and could see what humans cannot, so perhaps the dog had previously been barking at his ghost husband, not him.
“Seeing you standing here in one piece puts my mind at ease,” Song Yuantian casually draped a robe over himself, looking like a Daoist Immortal. “I was really worried that you’d be dead before I figured out a solution.”
Bai Lixin: “Almost.”
Song Yuantian looked him up and down, “So, you’ve survived until now, which means you managed to get something to keep you alive from the doctor?”
Bai Lixin felt a bit embarrassed and whispered, “Mm.”
“Oh, that’s good.” Song Yuantian answered casually, not seeming very interested in the matter, as if he had only asked out of courtesy.
Bai Lixin: “Did you ask me here because you found a way to recover my soul?”
Song Yuantian: “I did find a method from the ancient texts, but it’s dangerous—it’s a strategy where you’ll risk your life.”
“The reason your soul split was because you were supposed to die at that time. But something must have happened and interrupted the separation halfway. Part of your soul stayed in the water, while the other part returned to shore with your body.”
“Since there’s no way to retrieve the part of your soul from underwater, you’ll have to go down and reunite with it.”
“Go down?” Bai Lixin thought he’d misheard. “Where? The bottom of the lake?”
Song Yuantian: “Yes, the bottom of the lake.”
“But I can’t swim. Isn’t there another way?”
Song Yuantian: “This is the only method I found after combing through every ancient text.”
“You really can’t swim at all?”
“No,” Bai Lixin frowned, waving his hand. “My mother said I almost drowned when I was little. I don’t remember it, but I’ve been afraid of water for as long as I can recall.”
Song Yuantian: “With each day your soul remains trapped underwater, it grows weaker. Tomorrow is the fifteenth of the month, and the full moon brings Yang energy. On this day, the water ghost’s strength will weaken, making it the best time for you to enter the water. If you don’t go tomorrow, you’ll have to wait until the fifteenth of next month. But I’m not sure if your soul can last that long.”
In the end, the two of them devised a plan.
Bai Lixin would prepare a set of diving equipment and an oxygen tank, with a rope tied around his waist before he entered the water.
Song Yuantian would set up a spell formation on him, which would help Bai Lixin locate his missing soul fragment.
There was no time for hesitation; he had to learn how to dive as soon as possible.
The next day, he took a leave of absence and went to a diving center in the city to take lessons.
By the end of the day, Bai Lixin hadn’t gained anything except an intensified fear of water.
When his vision submerged in water, an uncontrollable terror gripped his heart—it was a fear that was inexplicably ingrained in his DNA.
“I’m telling you,” the instructor was panting, his voice hoarse as he tried to persuade Bai Lixin, “there are so many amazing things to do in life, there is no need to fixate yourself on diving. Maybe you should quit?”
Bai Lixin: “But I already paid.”
The instructor: “Alright, how about this? I’ll refund your money, and you can go to another diving center I recommend. How does that sound?”
Bai Lixin: “Will they teach better than you?”
“Oh, no, not really. ‘Number one in the industry’ isn’t just a joke,” the instructor sniffed haughtily. “But they’re our competitors, so if you went there, maybe you’d help put them out of business.”
Bai Lixin: “…”
The instructor eyed him suspiciously, “Handsome guy, tell me the truth. Were you sent from the rival company to mess with me?”
“That guy…he could actually come up with such an evil scheme…so insidious!”
Bai Lixin: “.”
‘Hello, Consumer Protection?’
In the end, the diving lesson concluded with the instructor’s surrender.
Before he left, Bai Lixin rented a diving suit from the shop, and the instructor specially selected the best one, giving him an encouraging look as he said, “Go to my rivals. Good luck, bring them down. I believe in you!”
‘If you keep this up, I’m really going to call the police!’
That afternoon, Bai Lixin had no choice but to prepare to dive into the lake despite his lack of training.
Song Yuantian held a whisk and began some strange ritual around him, chanting some obscure words while making some hand signs that Bai Lixin couldn’t comprehend.
The ceremony lasted half an hour. Only when the enormous silver moon hung in the sky did Song Yuantian tap Bai Lixin’s forehead with the whisk, “The soul-gathering formation is complete!”
He was breathless by the time he finished. He handed Bai Lixin a yellow talisman, “It’s finally done. Keep this talisman with you—it’ll protect you in critical moments. Now, it’s your time to shine.”
Bai Lixin clenched the oxygen mask in his hand: “…”
He couldn’t shine at all.
The picturesque Bihai Bay during the day turned eerie at night. The green lake surface became pitch-black, with only silver reflections shining upon it.
To get Bai Lixin to leave, the diving instructor gave him the most complete diving suit, equipped with two powerful night vision lights on the mask.
He stood by the shore. He mentally prepared himself for a full half hour, but in the end, it was Song Yuantian who kicked him down into the water.
Song Yuantian stood on the shore, exasperated, “Why are you still dawdling? Get down there! If the moon gets covered by clouds, the water ghost’s strength will return!”
Bai Lixin glanced up at the sky. Thick clouds were slowly gathering from the west and drifting towards the moon.
He took a deep breath and plunged into the lake.
In an instant, suffocating fear closed in from all sides.
Even though he had an oxygen mouthpiece in his mouth, he forgot to breathe.
It was pitch dark all around, and he could barely rely on the night vision lights to determine his direction.
Bai Lixin didn’t immediately dive down; he kicked his fins, trying to calm himself.
Only when he could breathe normally with the oxygen tank did he begin to descend.
This lake was artificial and hadn’t been dug very deep.
According to Lawyer Zhou Guang, the deepest part was about ten meters, with an average depth of around six meters.
Perhaps the formation Song Yuantian had set up on him was working, because, in a daze, Bai Lixin heard a faint call from the bottom of the lake.
The voice was saying:
“Bai Lixin, I am here.”
“I am here.”
“Come save me.”
A clear consciousness in his mind urged him to move in a certain direction.
He slowly descended, moving towards that spot.
As he reached the bottom of the lake, he saw “himself” among a dense patch of water plants.
“His” whole body was enveloped in a faint white glow, bound by chains, and reaching out to him with a gaze full of sorrow.
“Save me.”
“Quick, save me.”
‘Found it!’ Kicking his fins faster, Bai Lixin swam towards “himself”, and stretched out his hand.
‘My soul, you’ve waited long enough. I’ll rescue you now.’
“His” voice grew clearer, and just as Bai Lixin’s fingertips were about to touch “his” fingertips, something unexpected happened.
Something wrapped around his waist and yanked him backward.
Seeing that the “self” that was so close was growing further away, Bai Lixin grasped at the force pulling him, trying to break free.
He reached out, but only felt a rush of water slipping through his fingers.
The water seemed both tangible and intangible. It could bind him, but he couldn’t hold onto it.
No matter how hard he tried to grab it, the water easily slipped through his fingers.
Watching as he drifted further from “himself”, Bai Lixin kicked his fins anxiously.
‘Even if you are a water ghost, I’m not afraid of you anymore!’
‘No one can stop me from saving myself!’
Bai Lixin took the life-saving yellow talisman from the pouch at his waist and pressed it directly onto the stream of water binding him.
The moment the talisman touched the water, a golden light burst forth, and Bai Lixin felt the force around his waist loosen.
He hurriedly swam back toward “himself”.
With the powerful will to survive, his fear of water seemed to dissipate.
Just as he was about to grab “his” outstretched hand once more, the stream of water appeared again.
This time, it didn’t attack Bai Lixin but rushed toward “himself”.
The heavy water struck “himself”, and a horrific scream rang out.
The voice was venomous and shrill, nothing like his own voice—it was more like the voice of the water ghost he saw that day.
His pupils shrank beneath the goggles as he looked through the lens at “himself”.
The figure rippled like waves, and long, algae-covered hair emerged from the top of “his” head.
Bai Lixin was stunned, not understanding what was happening.
Wasn’t this “himself” he had found?
Why had “he” turned into the form of the water ghost?
Could “he” have been the water ghost in disguise?
If this was the water ghost pretending, then where was his missing soul?
Bai Lixin glanced around, trying to rely on the consciousness in his mind to locate his own soul.
But that sense seemed to have failed him, offering no response.
After tearing off its fake disguise, the water ghost revealed its true, ugly face. “You finally came down, I’ve been waiting here for you for a long time.”
“Hehehe, come be my substitute!”
The water ghost charged at Bai Lixin, closing in on him in the blink of an eye.
A stream of water appeared and blocked the water ghost’s attack.
“Meddlesome fool!” the water ghost snarled and shook the dagger in its hand angrily. “I’ll kill you both!”
The stream of water coiled around Bai Lixin’s waist once more and pulled him toward the surface.
In a daze, a memory surged into Bai Lixin’s mind…
All around him was water.
A cold, dark suffocation enveloped him.
He struggled desperately, then accepted the reality of death with despair.
His vision began to blur, and his body grew colder.
In a daze, his fingers seemed to touch a soft stream of water.
That stream of water wrapped around him and slowly lifted him toward the shore…
The fragmented memory of falling into the lake finally returned to him.
When he was on the brink of death, it was this stream of water that saved him.
It had just stopped him to help, not to harm.
Bai Lixin gently brushed his hand over the stream of water at his waist, silently saying in his heart:
‘Thank you for saving me once again.’
As if sensing Bai Lixin’s gratitude, the swirling water rippled, speeding up as it moved toward the shore.
Bai Lixin looked toward the bottom of the lake, where the water ghost was still relentlessly chasing them.
It was just a few meters of lake water, but Bai Lixin felt as though they had been swimming for an eternity.
He felt powerless, even a bit unwilling to accept his fate.
Against these inhuman beings, he seemed to have no means of resistance.
He was like an ephemeral insect at the bottom of the food chain—weak and helpless.
Suddenly, the rope around his waist tightened, and Bai Lixin felt his body being pulled up with immense force. In a flash, he broke the surface.
Song Yuantian rushed toward him with a pale face and hurriedly pulled him onto the shore.
“Thank goodness you’re safe,” Song Yuantian looked Bai Lixin over anxiously, “You scared me to death.”
Bai Lixin removed his mask, collapsed at the lakeside and gasped for breath, “Song Yuantian, what’s going on? Why did my soul at the lake bottom turn into a water ghost?! I was almost killed by it!”
Song Yuantian: “I was tricked, too. There’s an even more powerful existence behind that water ghost.”
“Just after you went underwater, I sensed something wrong below. I tried to pull you up, but it was as if the rope had been cemented in place—it wouldn’t budge an inch.”
“That water ghost imitated your soul’s aura and fooled me as well! Your soul was never at the bottom of this lake.”
Bai Lixin felt like he was on the verge of losing his mind.
He couldn’t understand—he had never stolen or hurt anyone. He was a model student, and was helpful and kind, so why did he have to face such miserable ordeals?
He worked hard and studied diligently, only hoping for a better life in the future—was that really too much to ask?!
“Your soul is probably being held somewhere else. That water ghost could imitate your soul’s aura, which means it had a part of it. It’s been pretending to be you, luring you in with the intention of making you its substitute.”
“Maybe if we capture that water ghost, we’ll find clues about your soul. But that ghost harbors deep resentment and keeps hiding at the bottom of the lake, so catching it won’t be easy.”
“Song Yuantian!” Bai Lixin grabbed Song Yuantian’s shoulder, stopping his endless chatter. “Teach me. I want to learn how to catch ghosts!”
He was unwilling to submit!
Why should he be a helpless antelope fleeing from predators?
Why did he always have to be so helpless?!
Those evil ghosts even took pleasure in tormenting him.
Cao Lin, the water ghost, and the figure hiding behind the water ghost!
One after another, they kept tormenting him!
He was unwilling to accept this!
He was unwilling!
He was unwilling!
He wanted those evil ghosts to pay the price!
He was Bai Lixin—not a piece of dough to be kneaded by ghosts, and definitely not a plaything for those evil ghosts!
“Your unstable soul has indeed created a natural spirit-sensitive physique,” Song Yuantian examined Bai Lixin closely. “And you’ve absorbed so much essence from those two—there might be more power in your body than in mine.”
“You know what?” The silver haired man’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “You might actually be able to enter the mystical arts!”
“If you learn the arts, your soul would be able to protect itself when it leaves your body! Why didn’t I think of that before?!”
Song Yuantian now looked like an excited explorer who had just discovered a new continent. He pulled Bai Lixin up from the ground and dragged him back toward his house.
Before leaving, Bai Lixin looked back at the dark artificial lake.
He seemed to catch a glimpse of a stream of water defying gravity. It emerged from the lake’s surface and seemed to peek at them.
Bai Lixin whispered to the stream of water, “Thank you.”
His voice was small, but the stream of water seemed to hear him.
It leapt from the lake, forming a huge water sphere that opened in mid-air.
Crystal-clear water droplets shimmered in the moonlight, like a fountain of water fireworks.
