Though she envied the temperament-and-looks perfection of Zhang Qingshui and Huang Qi and wished to be a bit more refined and beautiful, who wanted to turn into this kind of enchantress beauty? She might stroll down the street and clash with fellow professionals—the kind who would try to capture her as a demon!
Wang Ya greatly enjoyed her newfound demonic power—who didn’t like becoming stronger? She had taken care of all those powerful ghosts and monsters in the mausoleum; it felt incredibly fulfilling! But this side effect was even harder to accept than gnawing on corpses, being doused in corpse water and oil. Vomiting after touching corpses, scrubbing teeth, and taking a bath left her fresh and clean again. But how could she wash away this demonic aura seeping from her very bones?
Wang Ya truly wanted to spit up three liters of blood, yet feared being called pretentious!
She heard footsteps approaching and turned toward the restroom door. Zhang Qingshui and Huang Qi walked in. Zhang Qingshui seemed suddenly shorter. Wang Ya glanced down and saw that Zhang Beauty’s high heels had been replaced by cheap slippers from the convenience store, with several Band-Aids plastered on her feet. Wang Ya had no doubt the soles of Zhang Beauty’s feet were covered in burst blisters from fleeing in high heels. Tsk, climbing mountains in high heels was nothing—Zhang Beauty had waded through dark rivers and scaled cliffs in at least seven-centimeter heels!
Zhang Qingshui spotted Wang Ya and paused, probably surprised that Wang Ya had spent so long in the restroom just washing her face. She silently stared at Wang Ya’s face for several seconds before looking away, twisted on the faucet, washed her face, and asked, “Wang Ya, what are your plans from now on? Continue looking for your Grandma?”
Wang Ya asked, “What does it have to do with you?”
Zhang Qingshui said, “When you have some free time later, I’d like to talk with you.” She looked at Wang Ya with earnest sincerity and added, “I have something to ask of you.”
Wang Ya’s brows lifted, her eyes curving into a smile as she said, “The Eldest Daughter actually has something to ask of me?”
Zhang Qingshui nodded seriously and said, “Yes.”
Wang Ya snorted with a laugh, glanced at Zhang Qingshui, and continued washing her face. Zhang Qingshui wanting to talk and ask something of her was no different from a weasel paying New Year’s respects to a chicken. Underground with ghosts and monsters in her field of expertise, she could strut fearlessly. On the surface, people were scarier than ghosts! Ghosts could be charged at and slapped down directly, but with people, you couldn’t just rush up and strangle them—you had to guard against being strangled by them instead.
Zhang Qingshui stood silently beside Wang Ya, watching her intently. After about half a minute, she looked away and bent down to wash the grime from her arms. With no change of clothes or bathroom, the dirt on their bodies couldn’t be fully cleaned.
Wang Ya washed her face, hands, and arms clean, then returned to the convenience store and found a pair of slippers from the shelves to change into. She tossed her damp, corpse-stinking casual sneakers into the trash bin. She saw Wang Cheng’an hugging snacks and belching contentedly, the floor littered with bags of chips, peanuts, chocolate, and cola bottles. She pulled her wallet from the equally splattered dirty crossbody bag, counted out five hundred yuan, placed it under the ink pad on the cashier counter, and grabbed a notepad to leave a message: Sorry for the disturbance. Don’t be afraid—we’re not ghosts, just came out of the mountains after wiping out some. Professional ghost catching for twenty years!
Zhang Qingshui saw the note Wang Ya left and burst out laughing with a “pfft.” She chuckled lightly, pointed at the convenience store’s surveillance camera, and said, “Whether you’re ghosts or not, the cameras won’t catch it.”
Wang Ya shot Zhang Qingshui a sidelong glance and snorted coldly, “Scaring people calls for an apology, doesn’t it?”
Zhang Qingshui let out a drawn-out “Mm-hmm” from her nose, nodded, and said, “Right.”
Wang Ya didn’t want to travel with Zhang Qingshui and the others, so she called out to Wang Cheng’an to leave. But after eating his fill, he had dragged two chairs together, half-reclined on them, and fallen asleep. He slept soundly, slumped against the chairs, feet propped up, drool flowing from his mouth. Wang Ya pinched his nose, covered his mouth, tossed him around, but he just rolled over without waking. Shouting “The wolf is here! Barbecue’s ready! Let’s find Grandma! Take you out to play!” didn’t rouse him either.
Huang Qi came over to Wang Ya’s side and persuaded her at length to go with them.
It was the dead of night on the highway—hitching a ride was tough. Even if they walked to a village or town, in their current state, the timid would flee at the sight of them, and the bold might leap up to fight “ghosts.” The police station would surely dispatch officers to question them. Covered in corpse stench and fluids, clearly from a tomb, who wouldn’t suspect tomb robbers? Huang Qi even said something that struck right at Wang Ya’s heart: You have real skills now— you handled all those Millennial Fierce Ghosts and murderous spirits in the mausoleum. Who are you still afraid of?
Though Wang Ya had concerns and knew there were always stronger experts, she indeed possessed formidable power now; no one could easily take her down. Besides, she held Huang Qi’s Birth Chart in hand. If Zhang Qingshui or Old Tang meant her harm, she had an ace up her sleeve. Thus, Wang Ya accepted Huang Qi’s invitation to stay at the service station with them and wait for the pickup.
