FCRCG Chapter 4

Nan Deng fled all the way back to the iron barrel where he slept, slipping inside and holding his breath to stay quiet.

The rabbit head in his hands wouldn’t stay still, squirming around as if it wanted to go back for another bite. It had seen that there were still plenty of little paper figures in the kitchen.

Nan Deng held it down. “Wait a bit!”

He cautiously peeked out of the iron barrel, ensuring no one had followed him.

Those paper figures could move and even make sounds—Nan Deng had never encountered anything like them before.

His time in the tower hadn’t been long, leaving his experiences and knowledge woefully limited.

Still, his sense of caution remained sharp. He worried the paper figures might be the creations of a Celestial Master.

Nan Deng turned the rabbit head over and over, inspecting it carefully. “Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere?”

The rabbit head blinked its big, round eyes, looking perfectly fine.

This left Nan Deng even more confused. The rabbit head, like him, was also a soul body. If it had consumed something belonging to a Celestial Master, it should’ve had a reaction.

After hesitating and wavering for a while, Nan Deng ultimately didn’t dare to go back. He decided to look for another place tonight.

In the pitch-black night, a doll-like rabbit head emerged from the edge of the iron barrel, followed by a delicate face.

Nan Deng slowly climbed out, tucking the rabbit head back into his pocket before heading off into the distance.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Lian Yi stood in the kitchen.

A group of little paper figures surrounded the stove, babbling noisily in protest, pointing toward the windowsill.

Above them, a water mirror appeared, projecting everything they had just witnessed.

In the mirror, Lian Yi once again saw the rabbit head from that night—and Nan Deng.

The soul body in the image appeared quite young, no older than eighteen or nineteen. His sleek black hair reached just above his shoulders, with slightly curled tips, and his delicate features were androgynous.

From the paper figures’ angle, there was no sign of scars or deathly marks on his body, though his clothes were extremely tattered.

He had been peering into the kitchen, watching as a paper figure dragged an eggplant for cooking. His expression was a mixture of confusion and curiosity, appearing unexpectedly innocent.

This also confirmed how weak he truly was. The higher a ghost’s rank, the stronger its aura of resentment and malevolence—and the more ferocious and bloodthirsty it would be, consumed by nothing but the urge to kill and devour.

At the end of the projection, the rabbit head ate one of the paper figures, leaving behind Nan Deng’s panicked retreat.

The paper figures were still mourning the loss of their companion when Lian Yi waved them away. They immediately returned to normal, resuming their tasks at the stove.

These paper figures were controlled by his spiritual arts and had no true consciousness. They were disposable, so losing one wasn’t a big deal.

As for that ghost…

Following the lingering trace of his aura would make him easy to capture, though such a low-level ghost didn’t warrant the attention of a Chief Celestial Master.

So weak, yet bold enough to come near for food.

With patrols of Celestial Masters everywhere outside, he probably wouldn’t survive more than three days.

Lian Yi glanced out into the night before turning and leaving the kitchen.

—

After leaving the outskirts, Nan Deng realized he had underestimated the situation.

In areas densely populated by residents, Celestial Masters still patrolled regularly. Nan Deng couldn’t even handle the house in the outskirts; how could he possibly find prey elsewhere?

To avoid running into Celestial Masters, Nan Deng stuck to streets lined with thick vegetation, plucking leaves off trees to feed the rabbit head as he went.

Last night, the rabbit head had obediently nibbled on leaves, but now, having tasted a paper figure, it had lost interest in plants. It reluctantly ate only a single leaf.

At a loss, Nan Deng wandered to the garden outside the square, hoping to find some wild fruit.

The dimly lit streetlamps cast sparse illumination, leaving much of the greenery in shadows.

Squatting near the inner edge of a bush, Nan Deng mulled over the idea of sleeping in the garden tonight.

He noticed the faint stirrings of other ghosts deeper in the garden. This part of the bush was still an unclaimed territory—perhaps he could stay here temporarily.

As he considered it, the sound of rustling nearby broke his train of thought.

A familiar ghost emerged, half her face scarred by burns.

It was the little girl from a few nights ago.

Seeing Nan Deng, she looked surprised and walked closer, scrutinizing him. “It’s you. You’re still alive?”

Referring to a ghost as “alive” was strange, but Nan Deng understood what she meant.

His gaze quickly landed on the girl’s injuries—distinct from the burn marks she already had. These had to be wounds inflicted by a Celestial Master.

He averted his eyes just as quickly and forced a smile, trying to appear friendly. “What a coincidence.”

Since leaving the tower, the little girl was the only ghost who had spoken to him properly.

Though they were both ghosts, most preferred to operate alone. Nan Deng knew better than to think they could become friends, but the girl had clearly been a ghost for much longer than he had. She must know a lot about surviving.

The girl’s expression darkened as she casually flicked the blood off her hands.

Drops of blue blood splattered onto the bushes, causing the leaves it touched to sizzle.

Nan Deng subtly shifted backward.

The girl turned to stare at him. “Have you found any prey yet?”

“Not yet,” he replied, mustering his courage. “By the way, do you know about these small moving paper figures, about this big? What are they?”

Fresh blood seeped from her wounds and her tone grew impatient. “I don’t know… You’re so useless. Do you want to die with your pet?”

Nan Deng didn’t respond, taking another silent step back.

He faintly understood the true implication of her words: if he admitted he had found prey, she would undoubtedly interrogate him about its location.

The current situation was dire. All the ghosts were struggling to find enough to eat, and those marked by the fog-shrouded specter were even more direct competitors.

From the very beginning, the little girl had never shown him any genuine goodwill.

As a ghost, that was entirely normal.

Cradling the rabbit head, Nan Deng softly muttered, “Then I’ll be going now.”

He turned to leave in haste, but the little girl shouted, “Stop!”

Before her voice fully faded, a commotion sounded in the distance.

Her expression shifted immediately. She lunged forward, grabbed Nan Deng’s sleeve, and smeared her blood onto his clothes.

Then, with a powerful shove, she pushed Nan Deng into the glow of a streetlamp, exposing him, before fleeing alone into the opposite shadows.

The girl’s strength was overwhelming. Nan Deng fell to the ground from her push.

Protecting the rabbit head in his arms, he scrambled to his feet and looked back.

Several Celestial Masters were approaching. The ghosts hiding in the garden fled in fear, but the Celestial Masters weren’t targeting the garden—they were heading straight for Nan Deng.

He glanced down at the bloodstain on his sleeve and quickly understood: they were chasing the girl.

Seeing them close in, Nan Deng fled in a panic.

The rabbit head peeked out from his pocket, its crimson eyes fixed on the direction the girl had gone.

Realizing that the bloodstain would affect the Celestial Masters’ judgment, Nan Deng tore at his sleeve as he ran. Eventually, the rabbit head bit through the fabric, helping him rip off the section stained with blue blood.

The torn cloth fell to the ground and, separated from his ghostly form, dissolved into a blurry patch of water.

Nan Deng continued his escape. He didn’t know how long he ran, but eventually, he managed to lose the Celestial Masters trailing him.

Once calm and assured, he realized he had somehow returned to the outskirts.

Subconsciously, this must have felt like the safest place to him—and the truth proved it was.

Squatting to catch his breath, he slowly moved toward the distant lights.

Approaching the familiar house, Nan Deng noticed a small black figure crouched by the roadside.

It was the little black cat. When it spotted him, it quickly ran over, circling around him excitedly.

Nan Deng crouched and stroked its fur. “It’s you.”

The little black cat had something in its mouth. It dropped the object at Nan Deng’s feet.

Upon closer inspection, Nan Deng saw it was a tiny rabbit doll, likely the kind meant to hang on a keychain.

The doll was dirty as if it had been scavenged from somewhere, but its original white color was still barely visible.

The black cat gazed up at him expectantly and meowed.

“Is this for me?” Nan Deng was surprised and delighted. “Thank you.”

He couldn’t help but feel that the black cat had grown noticeably larger since last night.

Could it grow this fast in just one day?

Perplexed, Nan Deng picked up the rabbit doll.

The rabbit head stared at the doll, its floppy ears twitching slightly.

Satisfied that Nan Deng had accepted its gift, the black cat rubbed against his pant leg in farewell and disappeared once more into the night.

The doll, abandoned long ago by someone, was easy for Nan Deng to pick up.

If an ordinary person had passed by, they would have seen a rabbit doll floating in midair, moving on its own.

Nan Deng was about to return to the metal barrel when he suddenly stopped.

A thought struck him—there was another way to make contact with living souls.

By leaving an object imbued with his aura somewhere, if a living person picked it up, it would mark them.

The more marked a person became, the easier it was for ghosts to feed on their essence, sometimes without needing to approach them at all.

It wasn’t a perfect method, but Nan Deng knew his limits. For someone like him, this was the safest option.

Still, he hesitated to part with the doll—it was a gift from the black cat.

He lingered outside the brightly lit house for a long time. Only when the lights inside finally went out did he approach the front door.

Reluctantly, he placed the rabbit doll on the steps and walked away with great reluctance.

Back in the metal barrel, Nan Deng curled up in his usual position.

The sky was already beginning to lighten and the day was almost breaking.

He quietly adjusted his torn sleeve and leaned his head against the side, closing his eyes.

The rabbit head also glanced at the sleeve, its glowing red eyes flickering faintly. After a long while, it lay down as well.

—

Creak—

The front door opened, and Lian Yi stood in the doorway, his gaze falling to the steps below.

The sky was faintly lit and the cool night breeze rustled the leaves.

On the ground lay the dirty rabbit doll, faintly wrapped in a lingering aura, so weak it seemed ready to be blown away at any moment.

A crude trick.

Since the inner courts had started educating the public about ghosts, it was rare for anyone to casually pick up abandoned items anymore.

It seemed that the little ghost was still unwilling to give up.

The wind picked up, nudging the small rabbit doll slightly out of place.

After a moment, a slender, bony hand reached down and picked up the doll.

The talisman affixed to the center of the door was torn off, crumpled into a ball, and casually tossed into the trash.