Chapter 51

Regarding the matter with the Daoist, Xia Zhiming told Qi Xu not to worry about it and that she would investigate it herself, so Qi Xu really let it go.

For a good while afterward, nothing happened. Qi Xu relaxed her vigilance a bit and occasionally had her mother-hen tendencies flare up, tidying up the house. Before cleaning, she even called Xia Zhiming to ask if there were any places she shouldn’t touch.

As a result, she got a thorough scolding from Xia Zhiming.

“I’m out there busting my ass, and you call me just to ask about this crap? If you’re that bored, go find a ghost—don’t bother me!”

Qi Xu sheepishly put down her phone and started cleaning.

Back when she lived at home, she never did things like this. As the only child from a well-off area, Qi Xu was the kind of girl people envied online. She didn’t need much money, but her parents showered her with love. They held her in the palm of their hands, afraid she’d melt, and never let her do chores like cleaning.

Even after meals at home, if she occasionally felt too lazy and offered to wash a dish, her mom would say, “What do I have your dad for? Let him do it. Our baby just needs to sit pretty.”

It was only after starting university and leaving home that she learned to do everything herself—like laundry and cleaning the dorm. Now living in Xia Zhiming’s apartment, where Xia Zhiming was rarely home and Qi Xu was often alone, she felt like tidying up.

After all, it was sort of her half-doghouse now.

While cleaning, Qi Xu sneakily pulled out all the cabinets under Xia Zhiming’s TV and peeked inside. She explained to herself, ‘I have Xia Zhiming’s permission; she said not to ask about little things like this. I’m not doing anything bad.’ Still, she felt a thief’s guilt.

Xia Zhiming’s cabinet was like a treasure chest, stuffed with all her gear—including but not limited to a metal compass, blank talisman paper, brushes and cinnabar for drawing talismans, the copper coin sword she’d seen before, and some things Qi Xu didn’t recognize.

After all this time, Qi Xu had watched plenty of online videos explaining Daoist tools, so she recognized some items—like the legendary Five Thunder Talisman and House-Protecting Talisman. She really coveted that house-protecting talisman.

As a total mama’s girl, she especially wanted one for her own mom.

When Xia Zhiming returned, she actually asked for one. To her surprise, Xia Zhiming handed her a whole stack—not just the house-protecting talisman, but peace talismans too.

“Keep these on you. Don’t get yourself killed by some little ghost later.” Xia Zhiming was clearly from the Hostile Faction; in her eyes, there were no good ghosts. When Qi Xu asked why, she heard Xia Zhiming scoff, “Think about how ghosts form, and you’ll know why there are no good ghosts in this world.”

Ghosts were born from one’s own resentment or someone else’s. Something innately filled with resentment—how could it be good?

Xia Zhiming made a compelling point, leaving Qi Xu’s “Then what about me?” stuck in her throat, unsaid.

The Tiger Granny incident came to a complete close. The children were all picked up by their parents, their memories of it wiped; they only thought bad people had snatched them at night, but the authorities rescued them in time from the traffickers.

Investigators left at Rowboat Mountain later uncovered Tiger Granny’s origins.

Just as Qi Xu had seen in her vision, Tiger Granny wasn’t one ghost but two entwined. An old tiger from ancient times hunted due to rampant tiger attacks, and a great-aunt from modern times killed by a tiger that slipped the net—they merged into one, their behavior gradually shifting toward Tiger Granny to draw more hatred from people’s fear.

At that moment, Qi Xu finally realized tigers could become ghosts too.

“But most animal ghosts lack any wits. They weren’t smart in life and had no brains in death, so they got gradually devoured by the great-aunt ghost after her death,” Xia Zhiming judged regarding the tiger ghost.

Peaceful days flew by. Before long, mid-August arrived, and even Qi Xu’s three dormmates returned to school first. Their first order of business was to meet up with Qi Xu. Having holed up in Xia Zhiming’s apartment for days without leaving, missing the latest horror game release, she finally basked in sunlight again.

Unused to going out, the summer sun felt especially scorching at first touch. Qi Xu hurried into the subway station. While waiting, bored, she glanced around—then froze.

She saw a ghost.

Not a particularly strong one. After so many incidents, Qi Xu could gauge a ghost’s strength by its yin energy. The ghost stood in the station, eyes bulging furiously at passing people, as if trying to draw something from them.

The forum said these ghosts were weak, posing no threat to ordinary people but highly dangerous to their kind. They were weak because they had almost no brains or ghost domain, just wandering their death spots. If they gathered more hatred over time, they grew stronger, forming their own ghost domain to interfere with the real world and normals. If not, they slowly dissipated.

Ordinary people couldn’t see or be affected by such ghosts. But if some trigger let a person see them, they could interfere back.

That was why the authorities hid ghosts’ existence and memory-wiped those who’d seen them. Otherwise, repeat sightings made them easy targets.

The forum advised investigators to pretend not to notice at first sight, report to superiors later for site lockdowns and elimination. For ghosts that understood speech and hadn’t harmed anyone, perform deliverance for reincarnation.

Of course, if you could quietly deliver or destroy it yourself, do so and report later.

Qi Xu lacked the skill; even faking ignorance was tough—she had no acting chops. She visibly froze upon seeing it but whipped out her phone just before it looked her way, pretending to scroll videos.

But the ghost wouldn’t let her off. Qi Xu had a strange fate constellation; even if the Vice Bureau Chief said it looked ordinary, it couldn’t deny the oddity. Her ordinary fate clashed weirdly with her ghost body’s power, so the Vice Bureau Chief warned her to be careful.

The ghost spotted Qi Xu and slowly approached. Head down, she clearly felt darkness loom over her. Her phone video glitched black, reflecting the ghost’s lowered head—its wide eyes bulging as if to pop out, horrifying.

Qi Xu’s heart skipped a beat. Luckily, the screen lit up, the blackout faded, and the video host’s voice came through her earbuds.

Just pretend you didn’t see it, pretend you don’t know!

Qi Xu hypnotized herself inwardly. The ghost stood frozen before her for ages, staring eagerly. Her video ended, auto-playing the next. Under such pressure, Qi Xu couldn’t play it cool like before.

A train arrived and soon departed. Best move: wait for the next, stand, and walk right through the ghost casually. But imagining strolling through nonchalantly felt like immense pressure. After seeing its terrifying face, who could stay that calm?

Staying seated forever, skipping trains, would look suspicious too!

As Qi Xu thought, after three trains—fifteen minutes—the ghost opened its mouth, rasping horribly in her ears, “You… you can see me, right?”

Earbuds in, she pretended not to hear!

The ghost unleashed prolonged voice attacks nearby. Good thing for the earbuds, or the ugliness would’ve made her want to plug her ears, revealing she saw it. Soon, salvation came: a message from her dormmate saying they were almost there—hurry up.

Qi Xu typed fast: Just waiting for your message.

Then she stood, casually passing through the ghost. In that instant, her expression turned icy cold. Dark emotions surged; a thought flashed: What low-class thing dares block my path? This ghost didn’t even qualify to kneel before her palanquin.

Qi Xu quickly discarded the thought. She was a good girl—how could she think so feudal? Even ghosts deserved equality!

Qi Xu boarded and messaged the Vice Bureau Chief. As the train moved, she instinctively glanced back at the ghost’s spot. That glance met its eyes. In that moment, Qi Xu knew: It was over. That eye contact confirmed she could see it.

Sure enough, the next second, the ghost flashed a eerie, vicious grin.

It flailed arms and legs, chasing fast, then leaped—crashing onto the window glass past the partition door with a smack, in a rearward car.

Qi Xu jerked her head away in shock, looking to the back. Train speeding, it hadn’t hit her car’s window but further behind.

She swallowed, instinctively moving toward the front cars.

First hurried steps, then hesitant slow ones, finally breaking into a run.

You and your extra glance! Talk about asking for trouble!

Qi Xu gripped her shoulder bag strap tight. She thought: No way I’m this unlucky—survive big ghosts just to die to some roadside runt, right?