UCS Chapter 108.2

The owner’s son shoved Gao Gusheng away and sent him walking.

 

Only after they left did Gao Gusheng finally learn what had happened the previous night.

 

On the road from the restaurant to home, there was a pitch-black alley — so narrow that no vehicle should have been able to pass through it.

 

The night before, after the restaurant closed, the owner had walked into that alley. Then a massive truck came barrelling in with reckless force. The truck was nearly as wide as the alley itself; both side mirrors were knocked clean off as it scraped through.

 

The truck bore down on the owner.

 

In that narrow passage, with the enormous truck thundering behind him and high walls on either side, he had nowhere to go but forward.

 

But how could any person outrun a truck?

 

In the end, the owner was dragged under the wheels.

 

By some miracle, the truck’s chassis was high enough — the owner did not die.

 

But by cruel misfortune, the truck crushed both of his legs. Comminuted fractures in both limbs. Multiple abrasions across his body. His back a raw and bloody mess. For the rest of his life, he would be confined to a wheelchair.

 

He also developed severe post-traumatic stress disorder. Now, the mere sight of a truck sends convulsions through his entire body.

 

And the strangest — almost uncanny — detail: before the police arrived, the truck’s driver climbed down from the cab. He looked at the owner crumpled on the ground, barely clinging to consciousness, and then cracked a bizarre, twisted smile. He said something.

 

Then he climbed back into the truck and drove his head straight into the steering wheel.

 

He hit it with such force that the wheel crumpled out of shape. The blunt metal caved in his skull, leaving behind a smear of red and white.

 

He was dead.

 

The Ghost King wrapped his arms around Gao Gusheng from behind and asked softly,

 

“Bride, would you like to know what he said before he died?”

 

“He said: this is the price of getting close to Gao Gusheng.”

 

In that single moment, a crushing wave of guilt and regret swallowed Gao Gusheng whole.

 

He felt as though all colour had drained from the world. He trembled from head to toe, tears falling one by one, striking the asphalt road below.

 

Just then, passersby walked past him, chatting between themselves.

 

“Hey, did you hear? That □□ incident yesterday—”

 

“I heard. Terrifying. Apparently she was rushed to the ICU and hasn’t come out yet.”

 

“I know — such a soft-spoken, gentle girl, always so warm and helpful. She used to work at this very restaurant. Who could have imagined something like this would happen to someone you actually knew…”

 

Gao Gusheng’s entire body seized with a shudder. A wave of dread took hold of him, and nearly forgetting himself entirely, he grabbed the two strangers mid-conversation and demanded, “Who are you talking about?”

 

They were startled by him. They gestured vaguely toward the restaurant. “The receptionist from this place — that young girl. Do you — do you know her?”

 

The world spun around Gao Gusheng. A bone-deep chill swept through him in waves. He released the two strangers’ clothing in a daze, not even noticing when they slipped away.

 

Then a powerful force yanked him aside — he looked up to find the Ghost King gripping him by the collar, pulling him onto the sidewalk. Right before him, a truck roared past at full speed.

 

The man’s low chuckle sounded at his ear. “Careful, bride. What are you thinking about?”

 

Gao Gusheng, past caring about the strange looks from those around him, screamed at the Ghost King, “It was you! It was YOU!! IT WAS YOU!!!”

 

The Ghost King held him with a grip he could not break free from, running a hand slowly across his skin. “It was We. And so what?”

 

“Why would the bride shed tears over mere ants?”

 

***

 

The Ghost King would not permit anyone to covet his bride.

 

His very being was saturated with extreme Yin energy — to say nothing of the unfathomable methods he commanded from the Yin realm. Every single person who drew close to Gao Gusheng met with disaster.

 

Gao Gusheng had no choice but to avoid crowds and sever all contact with the people he had known before.

 

Even when Gao Gusheng was at work, the Ghost King gave him no reprieve.

 

Because of the Ghost King, Gao Gusheng could not — dared not — stay at any one job for long. Short stretches lasted a day or two; longer ones, perhaps a month. Then he was forced to move on. Because if he didn’t, the people around him would get hurt.

 

The money on Gao Gusheng’s person was never enough for anything more than a meal.

 

The Ghost King was like a cat that had caught a mouse. Whenever Gao Gusheng was on the verge of not being able to afford food, the Ghost King would vanish for two days, letting him work, letting him scrape by just enough to survive.

 

And whenever Gao Gusheng began to think that perhaps the Ghost King had grown tired of him, the Ghost King would come roaring back, wreck his job, and send him stumbling back into the dark of night with renewed despair.

 

The Ghost King seemed to have found a new amusement.

 

He kept pressing down on Gao Gusheng, waiting to see at what point he would finally bend his spine for him.

 

Gao Gusheng would not take his own life. The Ghost King knew that.

 

…

 

Mo Hua noticed something was wrong with Gao Gusheng when three days passed without a reply to any of his messages.

 

When he tried to find Gao Gusheng, it was as though the man had vanished without a trace.

 

The small building where Gao Gusheng used to live had new tenants. The restaurant where Gao Gusheng used to work had shut down. The library Gao Gusheng used to visit had long since stopped seeing him.

 

Mo Hua’s instincts told him something was wrong. He began searching for Gao Gusheng by every means he could think of.

 

Three months later, he found him.

 

By then, Gao Gusheng had wasted away beyond recognition. He was living in the cheapest daily-rental room available, wedged up against a filthy, reeking garbage dump.

 

He looked ready to collapse at any moment, like a flower that had gone too long without sunlight, or an ice sculpture left out in the height of summer, one second away from ceasing to exist.

 

Mo Hua was horrified. He rushed forward to ask what had happened, but Gao Gusheng’s first instinct upon seeing him was to run.

 

Gao Gusheng had no chance of outrunning Mo Hua.

 

He was caught with ease. The warmth of another person’s body temperature should have been comforting, but to Gao Gusheng it was scalding, so scalding it brought tears to his eyes.

 

Mo Hua was frightened by the raw, unguarded despair on his face, but he only held on tighter. “What on earth happened to you?!”

 

Mo Hua’s face swam in Gao Gusheng’s tear-filled vision, blurring into an indistinct shape.

 

What was he supposed to do now. In the end, he had dragged Mo Hua into this after all.

 

Gao Gusheng hardened his expression. He lashed out with the cruelest words he could think of, pinning groundless accusations on Mo Hua, yanking open his collar as he sneered at Mo Hua’s pretend concern. He took every bit of Mo Hua’s clean, undiluted care and hurled it to the ground, while deep inside he begged in silent desperation that Mo Hua would be provoked by his words and sever all ties with him before the Ghost King returned.

 

But that did not happen.

 

Mo Hua did not believe a word of it.

 

He simply wrapped Gao Gusheng’s coat around him in silence and began tidying up the room, looking for all the world like he intended to wait there indefinitely until Gao Gusheng relented.

 

Gao Gusheng fell apart again.

 

The more Mo Hua trusted him, the deeper the pain cut. That pain was like blade after blade carving out pieces of his heart one by one.

 

Gao Gusheng gave in. He told Mo Hua everything about the Ghost King.

 

Mo Hua said he would stay by his side and help him find a way to drive the ghost away.

 

…

 

They failed.

 

Mo Hua’s two legs were ground to pieces, inch by inch, right before Gao Gusheng’s eyes.

 

\* \* \*

 

Gao Shi jolted awake from the dream.

 

Darkness stretched out before him. Only in the far distance was there a single point of red light.

 

A voice came from above his head. “We’re almost there.”

 

It was only then that he realized he was leaning against Ying Bujie.

 

They were seated on a flying sword. When they had set off it had been dawn, yet as far as the eye could see now, it was night.

 

Ying Bujie seemed to read his confusion and explained, “We are underground. Inside a great tomb beneath the earth.”

 

As he spoke, a sweep of red came into view ahead of them.

 

The entire city had been dressed up in celebration, as though they had been flung back a thousand years, bearing witness to an emperor taking an empress, the whole city draped in red.

 

Ghosts and living alike wore faces full of bright, jubilant smiles.

 

“The Ghost King is taking a bride!”

 

Gao Shi thought back to the dream that had ground his teeth with rage. As for who exactly the bride was, he no longer had any doubt.

 

The flying sword came to a sudden stop.

 

Ying Bujie looked down at his palm. “The blood-kin guide has been cut off.”

 

“The energy here is too chaotic. The Yin energy is too dense. It has severed the blood-kin guide.”

 

Gao Shi heard this and let out a slow, quiet breath. “It’s fine. If the Ghost King is taking a bride, heading toward the grandest and most festive building should be the right call.”

 

Even as he said it, his heart sank a little.

 

He had not expected the Ghost King to move this fast.

 

If the wedding ceremony was completed and the two were wed, their energies would be bound together: one prospers, both prosper; one falls, both fall. He was afraid there might not be enough time.

 

Just then, a mass of black mist came hurtling toward the two of them. Gao Shi’s hand moved to the handle of his axe, but the black mist scattered apart before he could act, and out of it tumbled a small red-furred squirrel.

 

“Squeak squeak!”

 

The little squirrel sat up with a surprisingly knowing air, its big fluffy tail pointing firmly in one direction.

 

“Squeak squeak squeak!”

 

Gao Shi and Ying Bujie exchanged a look. Gao Shi made up his mind. “Daoist Ying, let’s follow it.”

 

The flying sword was fast, but the mass of black mist managed to keep pace, trailing after them at a steady distance, not too close, not too far.

 

Gao Shi found it puzzling. “What is this thing? It carries a heavy Yin ghost energy, but it doesn’t feel like it has any blood energy at all.”

 

Ying Bujie said, “It is a Yin-ghost energy creature.”

 

In places where ghosts and monsters gather, dense Yin energy and ghost energy accumulate. Over a long period of time, these energies absorb the emotions of both the living and the dead, and eventually develop consciousness, becoming new forms of existence known as Yin-ghost spirits.

 

With the little squirrel as their guide, they flew through the air, sweeping over rooftop after rooftop, until at last they caught sight of a river of flowing red below.

 

Paper-effigy figures carried a bridal palanquin, accompanied by the blowing of horns and the beating of drums. The scene was lively and deeply unsettling all at once.

 

Rage surged up through Gao Shi. He hoisted his axe and barged straight into the palanquin.

 

Inside the palanquin, unable to get out and currently snacking on sunflower seeds, Gao Gusheng was so startled he nearly spat the shells everywhere.

 

“Dad, do you, uh, want some?”

 

“I don’t want any of your seeds!”

 

Gao Shi gave him a firm knock on the forehead and tossed him out. The palanquin that Gao Gusheng had been unable to force open no matter how hard he tried was pushed aside by Gao Shi with one casual, effortless shove.

 

Gao Gusheng, dressed in a red bridal gown, was sent flying out of the palanquin and caught by Ying Bujie.

 

Gao Shi let out a cold laugh, planted himself in the bridal palanquin with the wide, sprawling ease of a warlord, slapped a transformation talisman onto himself, laid his long axe across his knees, and radiated murderous intent.

 

So the Ghost King wants to take a bride, does he?

 

***

---