When she had been alive, Xun Ruosu at least had the option of slacking off and waiting out her days until death claimed her. But after dying and coming back to life, she found herself inexplicably bound in a shared fate with another person. According to Xue Tong, there were quotas to meet for performing soul exorcisms, and failure to fulfill them meant enduring the torment of Myriad Arrows Piercing Heart precisely at midnight every day.
The drop-dead gorgeous beauty was a master at putting on airs. Xue Tong let out a sigh. “From now on, you and I are like grasshoppers tied to the same string. I never wanted to drag anyone else down with me, but your Xun Family just can’t resist stirring up trouble… Little sister, I’m a massive headache, you know.”
If words could take human form, “pretentious affectation” would look exactly like Xue Tong.
Xun Ruosu had the nagging sense that Xue Tong was hiding a mountain of secrets—like the meaning of that Sanskrit character for “return,” which Xue Tong clearly knew but refused to explain. The Xun Family did meddle in the affairs of wandering ghosts from time to time, but they were amateurs compared to Xue Tong. This little ghost had some reason for lingering in the mortal world, and while Xun Ruosu could divine it, she had no idea how to resolve it.
“Clinging to me won’t do you any good,” Xun Ruosu said to the little ghost as she stretched lazily.
It had been over half an hour since she’d climbed out of the coffin, and her foul mood was finally starting to lift. “I’m just a humble fortune teller with limited skills. The exquisitely dressed auntie right in front of you might actually be able to help.”
“…”
Auntie?!
Xue Tong’s smile froze on her face in an instant.
Xun Ruosu explained patiently. “I’ve been raising this kid for about a full cycle of the zodiac, and Miss Xue keeps calling me ‘little sister.’ Wouldn’t ‘auntie’ actually make you sound younger?”
“…”
Xue Tong’s perfect white teeth nearly cracked under the pressure.
The little ghost had no clue about the insincere games adults played. He felt a natural pull toward Xun Ruosu, but now she was shoving him forward toward Xue Tong. Despite his nerves, he shuffled ahead a couple of steps and called out cautiously, “Aun…”
The word “tie” never made it past his lips. An invisible thread stitched his mouth shut from top to bottom. Xue Tong fixed him with an icy stare. “Call me big sister. Nod if you get it, or I’ll pinch your soul right out of existence.”
The little ghost nodded pitifully. Back when he’d been alive, he’d loved watching TV, and Xue Tong’s vibe just now was straight out of some mountain village tyrant—or the demoness matriarch from a fairy tale.
The matriarch shot him another glare. He didn’t seem like some spoiled rich kid, though—quick on his feet and sharp as a tack. Pouting, he murmured softly, “Big sister.”
Only then did Xue Tong’s mood smooth out.
She pinched his chin between two fingers and turned his head this way and that, appraising him like a bone phrenologist. With a “tsk,” she said, “Dead only three days, and your head-seven rite hasn’t even passed yet. By rights, you shouldn’t have an obsession this strong. No one keeping vigil for you at home?”
The little ghost’s expression shifted abruptly. He’d seemed timid before, but at the mention of a vigil, he forced a rigid, half-crying, half-smiling grimace onto his face. “There’s no one left in my family.”
“…”
Xun Ruosu pressed her thumb against the second knuckle of her index finger and let out a soft sigh in her mind. “Kin-Slaying Friend-Defeating, Heavenly Lone Star.”
“No one at home?” Xue Tong shrugged. “Tough luck, then. Just wait to scatter into the ether.”
Xun Ruosu glanced up at her. “Fortune tellers aren’t exclusive to the Xun Family line, so it’s no big loss if that’s off the table. But Yama’s Palace has only one overseer of Reincarnation… Telling someone to dissipate damages your karmic merit. I’m your half-body now, so even if you insist on being reckless, at least don’t drag me down with you.”
There were billions of people under heaven and countless ghosts through the ages. Not every Heavenly Lone Star ended up utterly alone. In eras of war, orphans were everywhere. There had to be ways to excise obsessions and send souls back into Reincarnation—otherwise, the whole system would have collapsed long ago.
Xun Ruosu didn’t know the specifics of how it worked, but Xue Tong’s punishment of Myriad Arrows Piercing Heart was probably connected somehow.
A twelve- or thirteen-year-old already grasped the basics of life and death—and knew exactly what “scattering into the ether” meant. The little ghost gave a tiny shiver before working up the courage to tug at Xue Tong’s clothes. “I’m not afraid of dying…”
Xue Tong ignored him. The world was full of people who weren’t afraid of death—plenty leaped off rooftops without a second thought. No one was special. With a smile curling her lips, she turned to appraise the last of the Xun Family bloodline. “I figured you didn’t give a damn about any of this.”
“I’m not the type to fight tooth and nail,” Xun Ruosu said. “Things are what they are. Since I can’t shake you off right now, why waste time resisting? Might as well roll with it.” She rubbed her ankle. “It’s just one extra person in my daily life. No different from before.”
“…”
Xue Tong couldn’t tell if the woman was hopelessly optimistic or just naturally detached from everything.
“Let’s get going,” Xun Ruosu said, planting her feet firmly on the ground. “I drew this little ghost to me, so by the laws of karma, it’s on me to send him on his way.”
It sounded noble enough, but as she led her unlikely little entourage to the edge of the field, it hit her that they were in the middle of nowhere. The nearest house was a kilometer or two away, and with the sky still dark before dawn, there wasn’t a single car in sight—ghosts were rare enough out here.
The little ghost clutched his suona in one hand and Xun Ruosu’s skirt in the other. “Sister, I can’t fly or phase through the ground.”
Being a real ghost had quickly dispelled the fantasies from TV and books—no telekinesis, no blurring across miles in an instant. The one new ability he had was utterly lame: whipping up a gust of wind.
The big one and the small one both turned expectant gazes on Xue Tong.
“…”
Xue Tong had grown accustomed to a life of luxury and indulgence, where others begged for her favor with piles of gold and silver—and even then, she decided whether to accept. Yet here she was, after just one night, getting bossed around.
She fumed inwardly, tempted to plow up the entire Xun Family graveyard. Outwardly, though, she kept up a veneer of elegance. Pulling out her phone, she dialed a number. Half an hour later, a sports car pulled up alongside the field.
The car’s low clearance meant it scraped along the road the whole way, but Xue Tong clearly had money to burn. She didn’t care, and Xun Ruosu wasn’t about to meddle— she’d stuck her nose in enough other people’s business these past couple of days.
The car didn’t head to any town or city. Years back, Xue Tong had bought a villa nearby, nestled up against three top-tier scenic spots. Later policies had tightened on new construction, but the land she’d sold to developers sat untouched.
Along the drive, they learned the little ghost’s name was Zhang Yue. His parents had him late in life, and they weren’t well-off. His grandparents had died of natural causes. His mother hadn’t gotten pregnant until her forties; her body couldn’t handle it, and she died in childbirth. His father taught at the village school and got smashed to pieces by a car on the way home from work one day. Their family had always been small, and with his father gone, the closest relatives were from four generations back.
Four generations was distant enough that no one would even bother claiming an orphaned household. Xun Ruosu rolled down the window and propped her head on her hand, lost in thought as she watched the trees whip past at four in the morning. With a ghost providing ghostly air conditioning in the car, another blast of eyelash-stripping wind hit her face. Xue Tong finally spoke up. “What’re you thinking about?”
“How cramped this sports car is.” Xun Ruosu’s long legs were crammed under the seat, twisted every which way.
It was a two-seater model. There was space in the back, but no door to access it—and it was ridiculously tight. A half-grown kid might manage, but at one meter seventy with legs for days, Xun Ruosu felt like she was on the verge of amputation.
“Make do,” Xue Tong said, clearly pleased to get one back. “Look at Zhang Yue. Such a good kid for his age—no fussing at all.”
“…”
The driver had noticed a persistent cold draft in the car earlier, one that wouldn’t dissipate. Now, hearing his boss talk about “a good kid, no fussing,” things were starting to feel off—
Weren’t there only three people in this car? Who was this young, well-behaved kid?
Luckily, the villa wasn’t far, and the roads were empty. After a few traffic lights, half an hour was more than enough.
The driver knew the way blindfolded. He’d come straight from the villa. It was a vacation spot; the boss rarely showed up, leaving the properties in management hands. He only had to work five or six days a month for good pay—the catch being total on-call availability, like today.
Besides the driver, the villa had a live-in housekeeper in her forties who handled cleaning. She knew all about Xue Tong’s line of work and unusual status. By Xue Tong’s account, the woman had sold herself into service—a debt that would take centuries to repay.
“Rare to have guests,” the housekeeper said, still carrying the scent of sweet-and-sour ribs as she emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands. “Fridge was running low, so I whipped up something simple.”
She gave Xun Ruosu an appraising look. “It’s not often my miss brings home a friend. Miss, if you don’t mind, feel free to drop by anytime.”
But Xun Ruosu’s gaze slid right past her, fixing on the doorknob behind the housekeeper.
The housekeeper picked up on it and waved a hand in front of Xun Ruosu’s eyes. With a regretful sigh, she said, “Such a fine young lady, and blind to boot.”
“I can see just fine in daylight,” Xun Ruosu replied with a polite smile. “My eyes aren’t like most people’s.”
The housekeeper had been with Xue Tong long enough to recognize a fellow traveler and didn’t pry further. “Dinner’s on the table if you’re hungry. No rice cooked, but there’s bread in the pantry… I’ll head to my room and leave you to it.”
Xun Ruosu immediately understood why Xue Tong kept her on. The woman ran a tight ship: impeccable management, midnight snacks at the ready for surprise visits, gracious hospitality without nosiness, and plenty of space for host and guest alike.
“Meow…”
No sooner had they stepped through the door than a black shadow launched itself at Xun Ruosu. She caught it on instinct—and found herself holding a Four-Clawed Snow-Stepping Black Cat.
The black cat was in fine shape, its coat sleek and glossy, body agile and strong. It seemed thrilled to see Xun Ruosu and burrowed into the stranger’s arms with eager determination, meowing enthusiastically. The housekeeper had just untied her apron when she hurried out after it. She muttered under her breath, “Won’t even let the miss touch it usually. What’s gotten into it today?”
