Chapter 14

“Dead? But Xu Yan carried her on his back—we all saw her.” Song Qian couldn’t believe it.

Ji Wuxin watched her quietly, then took her hand and placed it on her own face.

Song Qian was thrown off by the gesture and asked in confusion, “What are you doing?”

“You can see me, and you can touch me.”

Right—Ji Wuxin was a ghost herself, so of course Song Qian could see and touch her…

“But…” Song Qian still didn’t quite get it. She could see Ji Wuxin, but no one else could. Lu Tiantian, on the other hand, had been visible to everyone.

Jiang Yi walked over from the corner, not bothering to lower his voice. “Lu Tiantian harbored deep resentment. Ghosts with heavy resentment can manifest and even make physical contact.”

“Huh?” Of everyone there, only Xu Yan couldn’t see or hear her.

“Rub some on his eyes.” He directed this at Lin Sheng.

Lin Sheng didn’t hesitate. She pulled a small vial from her pocket, poured out the liquid inside, and smeared it on Xu Yan’s eyelids.

Xu Yan blinked rapidly, and the sudden red in his vision made him cry out.

“What is this? It’s incredible…”

He spotted Ji Wuxin standing beside Song Qian—a figure in blood-red robes, her long hair spilling down her back like spilled ink, her unnaturally pale face marking her otherworldly nature.

“Haha, a new friend!” Xu Yan was so nervous he nearly bit his tongue.

Song Qian noticed Lin Sheng glancing her way ever since smearing whatever that was on Xu Yan’s eyes. Yuan Yuan on the other side kept stealing looks too, only to whip her gaze away whenever Song Qian looked back.

“What was that?”

“The stuff Lin Sheng used. Rub it on someone’s eyes, and they can temporarily see ghosts.” Whether by accident or design, Ji Wuxin rested her hand lightly on Song Qian’s waist as she spoke, drawing the human and ghost so close they looked intimately entwined.

Yuan Yuan’s face grew even stormier. “…”

Song Qian paled and lowered her voice. “Yuan Yuan knew all along?”

Ji Wuxin had mentioned sensing that Lin Sheng and Yuan Yuan could see her, but Song Qian hadn’t believed it. Now it seemed…

Damn! How was she supposed to explain getting all cozy with a ghost?

“I’ve just notified Lin Qing. Until he gets here, you all need to stay safe.” Jiang Yi pulled a stack of yellow talisman paper from his pants pocket and began pasting it over the room’s windows and door.

“There are two ghosts here now—Lu Tiantian and one that was probably sealed in the attic. The talisman on the door must’ve been tampered with by Ma Zhiwen. Lu Tiantian’s target is Liu Yue, and the attic ghost…” Jiang Yi glanced at the flimsy window. “She probably wants to kill us all.”

Ji Wuxin snorted disdainfully. “Some stray soul acting all high and mighty.”

Jiang Yi: “…” What a pain. He had no interest in talking to her.

Xu Yan had quietly sidled over to Yuan Yuan and Lin Sheng. He felt like they were the only normal people here, just like him.

“Is she powerful?”

Yuan Yuan didn’t need to ask who he meant—the female ghost by Song Qian’s side.

“No idea. Never seen her before.” She couldn’t even figure out how Song Qian had gotten tangled up with this ghost. And that Jiang Yi—he and Song Qian seemed to know each other already.

Since when had Song Qian been hanging out with ghost hunters?

They had six flashlights among them, but four were dead, and the remaining two were flickering weakly. If those gave out too, they’d be plunged into total darkness.

Jiang Yi stood by Xu Yan and the other two, while Ji Wuxin stuck close to Song Qian, leaving Yuan Yuan to take the chair on the far side.

“Are you scared?”

Wind had picked up outside, the branches and leaves clashing with eerie echoes. Song Qian rubbed her temples; her eyes ached and burned from lack of rest.

“You talking to me?”

Song Qian ground her teeth. “If I’m scared, will you stay away from me?”

“Nope.”

They traded sporadic words back and forth while the others sat in stunned silence.

Drip… Drip…

The sudden sound of water droplets put everyone on edge. There were no pipes in the house, and it wasn’t raining outside…

Jiang Yi sniffed the air lightly, his gaze snapping to the door.

Drip… Drip…

At the door!

He shot a look at the others, and in the next instant, the dripping turned into a gushing torrent slamming against the rotten wooden door.

A dark puddle of liquid forced its way through the door crack, racing inward. The talisman paper on the door flashed gold for a moment before wilting to the floor, swallowed and dissolved by the liquid in seconds.

Jiang Yi’s eyes widened as he cursed. “That bastard Lin Qing—giving me cheap crap! Hope it chokes him!”

“Glug—glug—”

The liquid seemed alive, slithering around Liu Yue’s body before oozing slowly toward the group, bubbling in the center like boiling water.

“What the hell is this?” Jiang Yi asked Ji Wuxin with a frown.

Ji Wuxin stared at the shapeless puddle, her expression blank. “A ghost infant—not even full-term.”

“What!?” Xu Yan reacted the strongest, grabbing the nearest arm without looking.

By sheer coincidence, Song Qian was right beside him.

Jiang Yi lunged over and yanked him away by the collar. He might’ve been shorter than Xu Yan, but his strength was nothing to scoff at.

Ji Wuxin shot Xu Yan a cold look.

Anyone with eyes could see her fierce possessiveness toward Song Qian.

“Glug—” The ghost infant bubbled again.

“Glug glug glug—” Like it was trying to speak.

“What’s she saying?” Song Qian nudged Ji Wuxin.

They were both ghosts; she should understand, right?

“She says you’re pretty and wants to play with you.”

“As if.”

Ji Wuxin: “?”

She was telling the truth—the little thing had said exactly that.

“Ghost infants love to play and rarely harm people on their own. But if the ghost mother can’t find hers…” Jiang Yi’s expression grew grave.

Ghost mothers and infants were born together, usually from a mother who died tragically in childbirth, the fetus perishing in the womb. The accumulated resentment formed them. Ghost mothers were fiercely protective of their infants. Anyone who knew better would rather face a ghost mother than get targeted by a ghost infant.

And now this one had fixated on Song Qian…

“Glug glug—” The ghost infant bubbled twice, then began writhing.

The inky black puddle twisted right before their eyes into a pale, chubby little girl. Her skin was soft and white, but her eye sockets were hollow voids, making for a chilling sight.

“Sister, you smell yummy.” She gnawed on her own finger, staring toward Song Qian.

Normal kids might suck on their fingers when hungry, but this ghost infant was chewing hers, blood filling her mouth, yet she didn’t let go.

Xu Yan and Yuan Yuan both turned away, squeezing their eyes shut against the gruesome display.

Ji Wuxin and Jiang Yi moved to flank Song Qian protectively. The ghost infant, unable to see her, stopped chewing and tilted her head slowly. Two trails of blood leaked from her empty sockets.

“Wahhh! I want sister! Give me sister!!”

The ghost infant wailed.

Her cry pierced like a knife. Song Qian clapped her hands over her ears.

Seeing her discomfort, Ji Wuxin pulled the jade from around her neck. “Hold this.”

Song Qian gripped it tightly, and the shrill wail cut off instantly. The world fell silent.

“Watch her.” Ji Wuxin handed Song Qian to Jiang Yi and strode toward the ghost infant.

“Hey!” Song Qian started after her.

But before she could take a step, she watched in shock as Ji Wuxin grabbed the ghost infant by the head and hurled her out the door.

“Shut up already.”

Not just Song Qian—Jiang Yi beside her was stunned too, let alone the trio trying to make themselves scarce.

“You threw her out? What if the ghost mother comes looking?” Jiang Yi realized belatedly that she’d stirred up major trouble.

Ji Wuxin shrugged fearlessly. “Then I’ll toss her mom out too.”

Jiang Yi: “?”

Behind their backs, Xu Yan muttered admiringly, Badass ghost sis.

Speak of the devil—the door Ji Wuxin had just shut flew open with a savage gust, slamming inward.

Ji Wuxin whisked Song Qian out of the way in time, and Jiang Yi dodged nimbly, but the other three weren’t so lucky. They scrambled aside, Xu Yan scraping his leg on the door.

“Who did that!?”

Song Qian wriggled free from Ji Wuxin’s arms and peered at the doorway. The ghost infant stood there, rubbing her eyes with one hand. Clinging to her other was what had to be the ghost mother—long hair dragging the floor, clad in ragged clothes patched with scraps of fabric. The ghost mother’s face was horribly sunken, her bones wrapped in a thin layer of black-spotted skin, like a walking skeleton.

“I had intended to let you live a little longer, but you just had to court death by bullying my child.” The Ghost Mother affectionately stroked the Ghost Infant’s head.

Song Qian wasn’t sure if it was the dim lighting playing tricks on her eyes, but she could have sworn there was a large bump on the Ghost Infant’s head—likely from when Ji Wuxin had hurled her away moments ago.

“If you can’t raise your own child properly, don’t go blaming others,” Ji Wuxin said, utterly unfazed by the Ghost Mother’s ferocious, man-eating glare.

“Lies! My Xingxing is the most obedient and well-behaved child there is! It must have been you—you bullied her!” With that, the Ghost Mother dropped to a squat and pulled the Ghost Infant into her embrace. The two figures merged together in a bizarre, eerie fusion.

“Xingxing,” the Ghost Mother cooed, “let’s kill everyone who bullied you. Together. All right?”

A crisp, childish voice echoed from the Ghost Mother’s belly: “All right!”

“Stay right here and don’t move,” Ji Wuxin instructed. She then charged straight at the Ghost Mother. In the blink of an eye, the Ghost Mother’s form had vanished from the room.

The crash of splintering furniture echoed from beyond the door—Ji Wuxin had dragged her outside to fight.

“Can she take her?” Song Qian asked, worry creeping into her voice.

Jiang Yi had never truly confronted the Ghost Mother himself, so he had no clue whether a ghost seething with such intense resentment outmatched the Jade Spirit.

Song Qian still clutched That Jade in her hand. Perhaps influenced by Ji Wuxin, its temperature was climbing steadily, now almost too hot to hold.

“Bang!”

A thunderous crash rang out, and the sounds of combat outside the door abruptly ceased.

Song Qian stared tensely at the doorway. To her bitter disappointment, no ghost emerged.

Neither Ji Wuxin nor the Ghost Mother reappeared.

“So you’re the one who threw my Xingxing? You’re a ghost too—do you have any idea what it feels like to be devoured by another ghost?”

Ji Wuxin!

Song Qian’s blood ran hot, and she bolted straight out the door.