FCRCG Chapter 11

Lian Yi spoke succinctly, “Had matters to handle.”

As he removed his jacket, a wound on his arm was revealed. Blood had seeped through the bandages, staining them a large, dark red—clearly, it hadn’t improved.

Nan Deng looked down at the injury and asked worriedly, “You didn’t see a doctor?”

The word “doctor” was one he had picked up from television.

Lian Yi appeared indifferent. He hadn’t even bothered with medication in recent days, merely replacing the bandages casually. The wound, caused by something far from ordinary, had resisted healing all along.

When Lian Yi glanced up and caught Nan Deng’s worried expression, tinged with a hint of heartache, a flicker of something stirred within him.

The last time Nan Deng had seen the wounds on his hands, he’d worn the same expression.

It struck Lian Yi as peculiar—a ghost like Nan Deng, possessing sympathy.

From the moment Lian Yi was brought into the celestial masters’ inner court, there had only been one person by his side: Zhuo Qing. And if Zhuo Qing were still around, he likely would’ve wished for Lian Yi’s demise, utterly disregarding their two decades of teacher-student relationship.

In a low voice, Lian Yi said, “No need.”

He left the living room and headed straight to the study. Nan Deng hesitated briefly, glancing at the jacket on the low cabinet before following him.

The door to the study was left ajar, seemingly an invitation for Nan Deng. Inside, Lian Yi was seated, pulling out a small bottle of white medicinal powder and fresh bandages.

Nan Deng entered and crouched beside him, curiously observing his movements.

Lian Yi began unwrapping the bandages. The innermost layer was stuck to the scabbing wound. As he peeled it off, fresh blood oozed out, filling the air with the metallic scent of iron.

Nan Deng’s lashes quivered and he instinctively shielded his own arm. Looking up, he saw Lian Yi’s face devoid of any expression.

Softly, he asked, “Does it hurt?”

Lian Yi didn’t answer. He wiped the blood away with the bandages, applied the powder, and rewrapped the wound.

His right hand clenched slightly, veins protruding on the back. With such a deep wound, it was impossible for him to feel nothing.

Nan Deng’s heart ached as he watched. His translucent fingertips lightly touched Lian Yi’s hand, as though trying to offer comfort.

He didn’t linger long and quickly withdrew his hand.

Lian Yi leaned back against the chair, closing his eyes to rest. Nan Deng’s attention shifted to his surroundings.

He hadn’t thoroughly examined the study before; during his last visit, he’d only glanced briefly from the doorway.

The study was as sparse as the rest of the house, with few decorations. Along the wall, the bookshelf held only a handful of books.

Nan Deng picked up the thickest one, struggling slightly with his ghostly form to hold it steady, and opened it to a page.

At some point, Lian Yi appeared beside him. “Can you read?”

Nan Deng’s curiosity was insatiable, more like that of a kitten than an ordinary ghost.

His understanding of the world was incomplete—he couldn’t even operate a television—but he was perceptive and quick-witted. Despite his weak abilities, he had managed to avoid capture by celestial masters for so long.

Nan Deng shook his head, gazing at the neatly arranged characters. Yet, they seemed faintly familiar.

He leaned closer, scrutinizing the text, and hesitantly read aloud, “Ref… Refining Ghosts: The Twelve Fundamental… Techniques…”

Realizing what the book was about, Nan Deng quickly shut it and tossed it onto the shelf.

His hurried action misaligned the book and it teetered on the edge.

Lian Yi caught it before it fell and threw it into the trash bin without hesitation. Then, he proceeded to dispose of the other refining-related books as well.

Turning to the startled Nan Deng, who had taken several steps back, Lian Yi said, “These books aren’t mine.”

He was telling the truth. Passing through the area temporarily, the house was merely a rental. The books were a thoughtful addition by the landlord. Nowadays, with everyone aware of ghosts’ existence, it is common to keep exorcism tools at home.

Besides, as a celestial master, Lian Yi had no use for such rudimentary materials.

Nan Deng clasped his hands behind his back and replied with a slow “Oh.”

Between the jacket and the books, Nan Deng’s mood grew heavier.

He began to wonder if he had placed his trust too quickly. After all, he and Lian Yi had only met a few times.

But did Lian Yi have any reason to deceive him? If Lian Yi truly rejected his presence, he would’ve left Nan Deng wandering the streets long ago.

In the tower, Nan Deng had heard countless ghost stories about being captured by celestial masters. But he’d never come across a tale where one showed mercy to a ghost.

This contradiction, coupled with his suspicions, left Nan Deng conflicted for a moment. Though he leaned toward trusting Lian Yi, as a ghost, being friends with a living human meant it was wise to maintain some distance.

Nan Deng’s thoughts were written all over his face. Lian Yi stepped forward, about to offer further explanation.

Suddenly, Nan Deng spoke up, “By the way, I waited for you to come back… to say goodbye.”

Having stayed for an entire day, Nan Deng already felt content.

Considering that Lian Yi had barely slept an hour the previous night and was still injured, he needed rest.

“Goodbye?” Lian Yi’s voice dropped ever so slightly. “Where are you planning to go?”

Was this all it took to scare him? Just a few worthless books? He could burn them all right now, never to have them in the house again.

“I want to look around outside,” Nan Deng said nervously, as though sensing something, “I… I also made friends with a little black cat. It’s probably looking for me.”

He quickly added, “I’ll come back to see you tomorrow night.”

Nan Deng had said the same thing before, but an accident had kept him from returning.

Lian Yi remained silent, his height towering over Nan Deng. His half-lowered gaze was fixed on him. Although the room was lit with warm yellow light, the temperature inexplicably seemed to drop.

The rabbit head had woken up by now and poked its head out of Nan Deng’s pocket, ears perked as it warily watched the scene unfold.

After a brief moment of quiet, Lian Yi finally said, “I have something for you.”

Curious, Nan Deng asked, “What is it?”

He followed Lian Yi to the living room, where Lian Yi picked up his jacket from the low cabinet. After searching inside, he produced a small box from somewhere.

Opening the box, Lian Yi revealed a stack of tiny paper figures that began marching out in an orderly line.

The rabbit head perked up immediately upon hearing the commotion and leaped excitedly from Nan Deng’s arms.

The living room quickly descended into chaos. Startled, the paper figures scattered in every direction, fleeing from the rabbit head’s gaping jaws.

Though the box appeared small, it held about twenty paper figures. The rabbit head pounced on them, devouring one after another without stopping.

Nan Deng was frozen in shock before snapping out of it and chasing after the rabbit head. He straightened a vase it had accidentally knocked over. “Slow down, Xiao Tu!”

The rabbit head paid no attention, now leaping onto the coffee table, where it knocked over a tissue box in its pursuit of the paper figures.

Nan Deng hurried to pick it up, but Lian Yi was faster, retrieving the tissues and setting them back in place.

“These…” Nan Deng glanced at him. “Are these what you wanted to give me?”

Lian Yi replied nonchalantly, “Caught them outside.”

Nan Deng’s eyes widened slightly. “Where outside?”

Lian Yi hesitated briefly before answering, “Far away.”

Nan Deng believed him, his expression lighting up with both happiness and gratitude. “Xiao Tu loves eating these. Next time, I want to go catch some too…”

At last, the guarded look Nan Deng had shown in the study disappeared.

Softly, Lian Yi asked, “Are you hungry?”

He had never seen Nan Deng eat the paper figures. The rabbit head had peculiar tastes, but ghosts typically preferred the souls of the living.

Lian Yi bent down slightly, tilted his head, and pointed to the side of his neck. “Bite here.”

Catching ghosts was the duty of a celestial master. Letting even a single ghost go was a severe crime, let alone using one’s own life force and blood to nurture one.

But Lian Yi didn’t care. If Nan Deng said he was hungry, Lian Yi would feed him.

Nan Deng froze for a moment before seriously shaking his head. “I’m not hungry.”

In truth, he never felt hunger. At most, he would feel tired or drowsy, but a bit of sleep always resolved that.

And he’d said it just last night—he wouldn’t eat Lian Yi.

Once assured that Nan Deng had no intention of biting him, Lian Yi’s dark eyes softened slightly. Straightening up, he replied calmly, “Alright.”

By now, the rabbit head had devoured all the paper figures. Energetic, it bounced over and let out a loud burp at Nan Deng’s feet.

Nan Deng picked it up and thanked Lian Yi once more. “Thank you… Well, I should be going.”

He still wanted to leave and wasn’t willing to take even a bite from Lian Yi.

Feeling a pang of reluctance, Nan Deng held the rabbit head in one arm and gently grasped Lian Yi’s injured hand with the other. “Get some rest early and take good care of your wound.”

Lian Yi let out a low “Mm.” Nan Deng moved closer, almost like he was lightly hugging him. “I’ll come see you tomorrow night, alright? Will you be home?”

“I will.”

Hearing the affirmative, Nan Deng let go of Lian Yi, glancing back at him with every step as he climbed out of the living room window.

After walking some distance, Nan Deng looked back and saw Lian Yi still standing by the window, seemingly gazing in his direction.

Nan Deng waved his hand before disappearing around the corner of the street, melting into the darkness of the night.

He proceeded cautiously, sticking to the darkest alleys. Fortunately, the area was deserted and the ghosts that had tried to capture him last night were nowhere in sight.

As he neared his usual resting spot, Nan Deng heard a cat’s meow.

The black cat had indeed come looking for him, meowing incessantly as it ran toward him from afar.

The cat appeared anxious, circling Nan Deng several times and sniffing him thoroughly to ensure he was unharmed.

Nan Deng reached out to pet it. “Were you waiting for me?”

The black cat rubbed against his palm, purring softly. Then it bit onto Nan Deng’s sleeve, tugging as if trying to lead him somewhere.

Nan Deng realized where the black cat wanted to take him. He stood and followed it.

The metal barrel he used to sleep in was still missing, leaving the corner empty. The black cat leaped nimbly onto the wall and disappeared inside.

Moments later, it returned, carrying something in its mouth.

The black cat placed the object on the ground. Nan Deng crouched down and examined it. “What’s this…”

The item was palm-sized, with the head of a lion and the body of a person. It wore thick armor, had a pair of small wings on its back, and held a sword taller than itself.

Its eyes were shut and its body glowed faintly as if it were a jade-carved ornament or a peculiar little spirit.

The rabbit head also leaned in to investigate, swatting it lightly with its ears.

The black cat let out a sharp “Meow” before picking up the “little spirit” again and tossing it directly into Nan Deng’s arms.

Nan Deng hurriedly caught the “little spirit”, which wriggled slightly, curling into itself and letting out a soft whimper.

It was alive.

Nan Deng froze for a moment before gradually relaxing. He sat against the wall, cradling the “little spirit” in his arms.

That was when he noticed several distinct scratches on its body, resembling wounds, though there was no blood.

He touched it gently and the furrow between its brows smoothed out a little.

The black cat hadn’t left and was pacing back and forth at a nearby intersection, keeping watch.

By dawn, the scratches on the “little spirit” had completely disappeared.

It finally woke up, opening its eyes to see Nan Deng. It stared at him blankly for a long time before suddenly growing excited.

It clung to Nan Deng’s arm, babbling in a language he couldn’t understand, and then, to Nan Deng’s bewilderment, began to cry.

“What’s wrong?” Nan Deng asked with concern.

The “little spirit” didn’t resemble a ghost or any animal Nan Deng knew. He could only guess it might be a friend of the black cat, here to hide for some unknown reason.

The “little spirit” wiped away its tears but continued to cling tightly to Nan Deng’s arm until the black cat came over.

Its wings fluttered, lifting it into the air. It brushed against Nan Deng’s hair in a gesture of affection before reluctantly flying away with the black cat.

Nan Deng watched their retreating figures until they disappeared. Then he returned to his corner, preparing to rest.

This was the first time he had encountered such a peculiar creature. Unfortunately, like the rabbit head, neither of them could speak, leaving him with no way to learn more.

The rabbit head hopped into Nan Deng’s arms and licked the back of his hand.

Nan Deng yawned. “Let’s sleep.”

—

At dawn, two celestial masters spotted the black cat at a distance near the intersection, accompanied by a glowing, flying creature.

They immediately reported this sighting: “The black cat and the lion-man have appeared. The lion-man seems to have recovered.”

Lin Jiu quickly responded: “Understood.”

The lion-man was the guardian spirit of a neighboring area. News had spread a few days ago that it had been injured and hadn’t recovered, rendering it unable to hunt resentful spirits.

Just after nightfall the previous evening, Lin Jiu had received a report that a black cat had entered the neighboring area and taken the lion-man away.

The black cat was a newly manifested earth spirit. The celestial masters on both sides had been on edge, eager to understand its intentions.

Lin Jiu had led a team to track it, but the black cat noticed them midway and nearly lashed out in anger.

In the end, all celestial masters withdrew and the black cat’s whereabouts remained unknown until its reappearance at dawn.

And now, the lion-man seemed fully restored—a crucial piece of information.

Suppressing his excitement, Lin Jiu contacted Weng Ping Ran.

“This must be a sign of the mountain god’s emergence!”

Weng Ping Ran was equally thrilled. He paced back and forth with his communicator, muttering to himself, “No wonder a new earth spirit was born… It must be because of its close contact with the mountain god, granting it the qualifications to become a guardian spirit.”

He stopped and addressed Lin Jiu on the video call. “Elder Gu Xu and I are tied up and can’t leave for now. The earliest we can arrive is next week… You must keep a close eye on the black cat and ensure we’re the first to find traces of the mountain god!”

Lin Jiu hesitated. “But… the local spirits don’t want us getting close.”

Weng Ping Ran paused briefly before replying, “Then find a way.”

“Those spirits need the mountain god, and so do we,” Weng Ping Ran said firmly. “Never forget the primary duty of a celestial master.”

Strictly speaking, celestial masters were semi-spiritual beings, though fundamentally different from earth spirits.

The mountain god was the leader of the three gods. Serving and following the mountain god was far more important than hunting resentful spirits.

Lin Jiu lowered his head and answered, “Understood.”

—

In the countryside at night, a house remained lit.

The faint smell of blood lingered in the living room and blood-stained bandages, freshly torn off, lay discarded in the trash.

Lian Yi was half-reclined in the bathtub, his eyes closed in silence.

The wound he had treated earlier had soaked in water, washing away the medicinal powder and causing it to bleed again.

Hot water had been running all night and Lian Yi had stayed in the bathroom the entire time.

It wasn’t until daylight that he emerged, entering the bedroom and opening a drawer sealed with a talismanic barrier. Inside, he retrieved a glass bottle.

The curtains weren’t drawn and the soul inside the glass bottle immediately let out a cry of pain upon contact with sunlight.

Zhuo Qing’s voice seethed with resentment. “What have you been up to these past two days? Finally remembered to torment me?”

Lian Yi didn’t even spare him a glance. Zhuo Qing endured the burning sensation of the sunlight and then began to sneer.

“Though… I think I’ve heard some other noises.”

“You really are a freak,” he sneered maliciously. “Then again, with someone as ruthless and unscrupulous as you, nothing you do would surprise me…”

Zhuo Qing’s soul was quite powerful. Even confined, he could detect faint traces of other presences.

He knew that other ghosts had repeatedly approached Lian Yi and left unharmed. Though unclear about their dealings, he could infer some of it.

Lian Yi’s expression darkened as he raised his hand, unleashing a spiritual technique. The glass bottle was enveloped in its glow and Zhuo Qing’s soul was subjected to the excruciating pain of refinement—not quite death, but agonizing nonetheless.

From hurling curses to barely breathing, Zhuo Qing eventually fell silent. Only then did Lian Yi stop.

His face remained cold as his gaze lingered on the empty box that had once held the paper figures. He stared at it for a long time.