Fang Zehao was the kind of guy who was very popular with girls. He knew how to dress and style himself, had a sweet tongue, knew how to have fun, and was also quite cunning.
Moreover, this guy never settled down. He changed girlfriends one after another, and on average, each relationship lasted less than a month. Wang Feihong often complained to Liu Ji that he was practically a beast.
But recently, he’d suddenly had a change of heart. He said he’d fallen in love with a girl at the university and was planning to pursue her seriously and date her. For that, he’d even started staying in the dormitory he’d always complained about, stopped flirting around with other people and even stopped going out to party and fool around.
This was unprecedented since heaven and earth were created. Wang Feihong clicked his tongue in amazement. He had been itching with curiosity for a long time, wanting to know just what kind of divine being could make Fang Zehao, this scoundrel, turn over a new leaf. So today, as soon as he heard Fang Zehao was coming back, he hurriedly camped out at the window to watch the excitement.
Who knew that instead of catching Fang Zehao and his mysterious girlfriend, he’d end up seeing two non-mainstreams instead.
And while he was bickering with the non-mainstream guy, the subject of the gossip had already returned.
“Hm? Everyone’s here?”
Fang Zehao was wearing a light-colored denim jacket, his hairstyle and outfit carefully put together. He looked to be in a good mood.
The bells in the room kept ringing without stopping, and Fang Zehao was stunned for a moment: “Whose phone is ringing?”
He subconsciously looked up toward the sound, and then his heart gave a heavy thump, a chill creeping into his chest and giving him goosebumps all over.
Because he met a pair of eyes…
Fu Sang stood with his back to the sunlight outside the window, casting his entire figure in the shadows.
He stood there in the darkness, staring fixedly at Fang Zehao with a pair of eyes that were indifferent in expression and unusual in color.
This guy usually looked gloomy enough already. He always kept to himself, carried an eerie air about him, and liked hanging all sorts of strange and random things like copper coins on him. Once, Fang Zehao had even caught him with something that looked like a yellow talisman.
He always felt that this roommate seemed like the type who would secretly make voodoo dolls behind people’s backs.
This sudden glance was truly frightening.
“Sorry.”
Fu Sang looked at Fang Zehao, said “sorry,” and then slowly raised his hand to press down on the copper coins and bells at his waist.
Only then did the incessant ringing in the room stop.
Fu Sang looked away.
The atmosphere in the dormitory was a bit stiff, but it did ease up a little after that.
Wang Feihong brought up the topic of the girlfriend again. Fu Sang listened carefully, turning slightly to the side and lightly tapping the snake-bone nail at his waist twice with his fingertips.
Qi Changying seemed to understand what he meant, and immediately left the vessel he was inhabiting, taking form beside him.
Fu Sang looked into his eyes, raised an eyebrow very slightly, and then shifted his gaze toward Fang Zehao.
Qi Changying seemed to get it, dissipating like smoke and, when he reformed, appeared right next to Fang Zehao.
He lowered his head slightly and took a light sniff.
Fang Zehao inexplicably shuddered, a string of goosebumps rising on the back of his neck.
A seventh-rank Crimson Evil could do many things, like sense a person’s fortune, the malevolent energy they carried, identify nether spirits hiding within or possessing living people, and even determine the general condition of a nether spirit from the concentration of yin breath residue left on a person.
This was one of the uses Fu Sang had developed for Qi Changying since bringing him back.
“Haozi, it’s been so many days, have you won over your crush yet?” Wang Feihong asked with great interest.
“How could it be that fast? This time I’m serious, so I definitely have to do it right. Haven’t you heard that hot tofu can’t be eaten in a hurry? You’ve got to take it slow.”
Fang Zehao took off his jacket, pulled out a chair, and sat down, answering casually.
“I’m dying of curiosity. When it works out, you definitely have to let me get a look, see what kind of girl can make a playboy turn over a new leaf.” Wang Feihong grinned.
“Sure.” Fang Zehao’s tone was a bit dismissive, clearly not wanting to discuss the matter further.
Fu Sang casually flipped through the book in his hands, but his ears were already perked up like antennas, listening to the conversation between the two.
Until Qi Changying returned to his side.
Fu Sang looked up, tossed the book in his hand onto the table, and was about to listen to his report when Qi Changying unexpectedly leaned down toward him.
Fu Sang was startled.
This ghost was much taller than him, and his appearance wasn’t human-like. Suddenly lowering his head instinctively triggered a sense of alertness and defensiveness.
So Fu Sang took a half step back, just half a step.
Because after that half step, he realized that Qi Changying was leaning down toward his ear.
It was the posture of someone whispering.
Qi Changying’s voice was very soft:
“He has the scent of a ghost on him. It belongs to a young woman.”
“…” Okay.
But Fu Sang still wanted to ask Qi Changying to explain: as a ghost that the vast majority of people couldn’t even perceive, what exactly was he wary of? Why did he have to get so close and whisper so quietly to him?
Was he afraid this top-secret information would be stolen by the United Nations or something?
He’d been a ghost for a thousand years, and he still wasn’t used to being a piece of walking, talking air?
What’s more, after saying that, this ghost took the opportunity to lean in and sniff him several more times, his nose almost touching his ear. Even the sound of his breathing was clearly audible, yet he thought Fu Sang hadn’t noticed.
But asking about it now would be rather strange, since there were three other living people in the room besides him.
So Fu Sang only silently took another step back, then raised his hand and tapped his left eye with his fingertip.
Qi Changying frowned slightly, as if a little worried: “Are you sure?”
Fu Sang finally couldn’t hold back, and silently mouthed at him: “Obviously!”
Qi Changying immediately fell silent. He lowered his eyes, reached his hand toward Fu Sang’s waist and picked up the snake bone nail with two fingers, pricking his own thumb pad with its sharp tip.
A drop of black blood oozed out. Qi Changying brought his hand before Fu Sang’s eyes. Fu Sang reached out to wipe it off, then rubbed his fingertip, now stained with blood, across the corner of his own eye.
The black blood, unique to spirits of the underworld, transformed into wisps of cold mist that seeped into his eye through the corner of his eyelid.
The excruciating pain struck instantly. Even though he’d done this many times before, Fu Sang still couldn’t get used to the pain that was a hundred times more intense than jumping from a height and shattering every bone in his body.
He knew it would hurt, and to avoid making too much noise, he braced himself against the back of a chair beforehand for support. But he still underestimated his body’s instinctive reaction to the searing pain.
His mind went blank for a moment, and when he came back to his senses, he had already collapsed to his knees on the cold floor.
This startled the other three people in the dorm.
“Fu Sang, are you okay?”
Liu Ji ran over, took Fu Sang’s arm, and helped him stand up.
Fu Sang covered his left eye and took a deep breath:
“…I’m fine.”
Although the pain hadn’t lessened at all, Fu Sang had a high pain tolerance. As long as he got used to the feeling a little, he could stop it from affecting him.
He lowered his hand and slowly opened his left eye.
His vision in his left eye was still a little blurry, with double images, and he blinked many times before his sight became clear again.
“What’s wrong?” Fang Zehao had already stood up from his chair. He looked at Fu Sang, a bit bewildered.
“Nothing,” Fu Sang looked up at him.
The Crimson Evil’s blood seeped into his left eye, briefly granting him the ability to see the underworld.
What he perceived, what Qi Changying had smelled, and what the Weeping Soul coins had detected became instantly visible…there were wisps of thin, dark gray smoke coiled around Fang Zehao.
This was nether breath, also known as yin energy.
The essence of spirits of the underworld was dense, condensed yin energy. Generally speaking, spirits were spiritual entities, a level above humans. People couldn’t see or touch them, but spirits could drift through heaven and earth observing all sorts of people.
However, this was only limited to “observation”, because spirits couldn’t touch the living, nor could they interact with them. The vast majority of spirits could only convey information and emotions through “dreams”.
But there were always exceptions. Just like the urban legends about vengeful spirits demanding lives. Some ghosts with deep resentment could, through special mediums, briefly make themselves perceptible to the living, feed on their negative emotions or even their life force and lifespan, and gradually grow stronger, advancing in rank.
The job of a nether path spirit master was to root out these evil spirits and send them where they belonged.
So, under normal circumstances, living people couldn’t see ghosts, nor could they be contaminated by yin energy.
Unless, they had recently been in close contact with a ghost.
Qi Changying said that the scent on Fang Zehao belonged to a young woman.
And coincidentally, Fang Zehao had recently met someone who had become his dream lover.
Making the living obsessed or infatuated with oneself was a common tactic of seductive ghosts.
The reason Fu Sang couldn’t be considered a proper spirit master was that he couldn’t see ghosts, and couldn’t establish a connection with that world, so he couldn’t do the primary work of a nether path spirit master. Fortunately, his spiritual power was strong and his senses were sharp, giving him a natural advantage at being a fortune-teller. He could do some miscellaneous jobs like fortune-telling and feng shui to make a living.
This was, in fact, the first time he had encountered a vengeful ghost haunting a person since gaining the ability to see the underworld.
It was hard for him not to be interested in it.
Fu Sang wanted to get involved, but he wasn’t close with his roommates, and his understanding of the situation was limited to the bits and pieces of gossip Wang Feihong had just mentioned.
He needed to know more.
“It’s nothing, I was just thinking…”
So, when Fang Zehao asked “What’s wrong”, Fu Sang chose to be honest and decided to smoothly steer the conversation back to the topic to get more information. After a thousand thoughts, it all ultimately boiled down to one sentence:
“I was thinking about your dream lover.”
“?”
Author’s Note:
Our little landmine brother is someone who, when being vicious, speaks eloquently and lives by the motto “no madness, no survival,” but when he needs to communicate properly with humans to achieve his goals, his emotional intelligence and language system both reset to zero…basically a humanoid bot (just kidding).
