FCRCG Chapter 3

Just now, Nan Deng had carefully surveyed the brightly lit living room.

The living room was spotless. There were no feng shui compasses or similar tools or items for warding off spirits.

Before the amusement park was completely taken down, Nan Deng had overheard other ghosts mentioning that every household had stringent protective measures these days. Even if a ghost managed to get inside, they’d often be promptly driven out.

However, the residents of this house seemed to have recently moved in, as only a talisman was pasted outside the door.

Nan Deng thought to himself: Looks like my luck isn’t bad.

If not for what happened last night, he might not have been in such a rush to find a target.

He wondered if the rabbit head could consume living souls. If not, once they returned to the burrow, he could have the fog-shrouded specter absorb the food it couldn’t eat.

Although the rabbit head couldn’t talk, it had accompanied him in the tower for a long time. Nan Deng didn’t want it to get devoured.

The little black cat lay on the ground, letting out a soft “meow”.

Nan Deng merged with it seamlessly, his movements natural and fluid—so much so that an ordinary person wouldn’t have noticed anything amiss.

However, the little black cat exuded a faint, almost imperceptible black aura of malevolence. While subtle, it was impossible to escape Lian Yi’s sharp gaze.

Standing with his head slightly lowered, Lian Yi’s black and gray heterochromatic eyes fixed on the little black cat at his feet.

It had been a long time since a ghost had sought death so blatantly in his presence.

As for the rabbit head, which looked more like a toy, Lian Yi paid it no mind.

Among the myriad of resentful spirits, bizarre and grotesque forms were commonplace—some even grew eight legs.

At this moment, Nan Deng realized he’d been waiting too long.

What’s going on? Did this person not notice the little black cat? It even called out!

The little black cat was only the size of two palms. Lying on the ground, Nan Deng looked at the person in front of him, whose face was mostly obscured by the dim yellow light of the corridor, making it hard to discern their expression.

Growing impatient, Nan Deng decided to take the initiative. He flipped over and prepared to rub against the person’s pant leg.

But just as he took a step forward, his body was suddenly lifted into the air.

Caught off guard, Nan Deng lost control of his possession in his panic. His soul was forcibly ejected from the black cat’s body.

The talisman on the door remained in place and the entire house repelled soul bodies. Nan Deng was promptly expelled, unable to stay any longer. The rabbit head he’d brought with him was also forced to leave.

Freed from its possession, the little black cat reacted swiftly. It kicked off the wall with its hind legs, landing gracefully. With its fur bristling, it hissed at Lian Yi before quickly leaping onto the window Nan Deng had entered through and disappearing.

Lian Yi’s expression remained cold, devoid of any emotion.

He silently walked to the window. Under the night sky, the little black cat was circling a spot on the ground as if something unseen was there.

At this distance, Lian Yi couldn’t clearly discern the ghost’s appearance.

Judging by its aura, it was likely a soul body not even at level two—so weak that it wasn’t worth the effort to capture. Given time, it would probably dissipate into some forgotten corner.

Retracting his gaze, Lian Yi closed the window tightly.

Outside, Nan Deng heard the sound of the window shutting and quickly hugged the rabbit head as he moved farther away.

He thought he had been discovered and nervously waited for a long time until the lights in the house were turned off.

If I’d been discovered, they wouldn’t have stayed this calm… right?

The sudden inability to possess the cat might have been due to its resistance or perhaps his own insufficient strength, making it impossible to maintain possession for long.

Nan Deng sighed quietly, leaning against the wall. “I’ll try again tomorrow.”

At some point, the little black cat had disappeared. The surroundings remained quiet, with no signs of any humans or ghosts.

Nan Deng found an abandoned metal barrel. It was relatively clean inside. With some effort, he dragged it to a shaded corner and climbed in.

The barrel provided cover overhead, shielding him from the sunlight during the day. Although it wasn’t as good as the amusement park, it was barely adequate for temporary shelter.

In the darkness, Nan Deng fished a few leaves out of his pocket and fed them to the rabbit head.

The rabbit head’s droopy ears perked up slightly. It looked more energetic than when it had first emerged earlier that night.

Despite being just a head, its mouth seemed connected to a bottomless pit—the leaves it consumed disappeared without a trace.

After feeding the rabbit head, Nan Deng waited until dawn, curling up inside the metal barrel to sleep.

—

By day, the streets and squares came to life again.

The number of residents increased, and from time to time, figures in celestial master uniforms could be seen patrolling. These were the ones responsible for daytime security.

Recently, ghost-related incidents in this area had become so severe that the inner court of the celestial masters had opened two talisman shops in the city center. These shops distributed ghost-repelling tools and medicines free of charge.

On the second floor of one such talisman shop, in a lounge at the back, Lin Jiu was reporting the recent situation to someone on the other end of a communicator.

The wooden communicator was about the size of a palm, with its interior fitted with special materials designed for secure communication among celestial masters. Its security was far superior to ordinary devices.

On the screen was an elder, around sixty years old.

He asked, “You said that Lian Yi is here too?”

Lin Jiu replied, “Yes. He doesn’t appear to have left yet.”

Given his rank, Lin Jiu wasn’t authorized to track Lian Yi’s movements or discern his intentions unless Lian Yi initiated contact himself.

The elder continued, “Is he alone?”

“Yes.”

“Elder Zhuo Qing accompanied him to Xiang Nan and there’s been no word from him since. But he came back alone?”

The elder furrowed his brow. “Keep an eye on him, but don’t alert him to it.”

Zhuo Qing was Lian Yi’s mentor. But over the past few years, their relationship had cooled to the freezing point. This was no secret.

However, if something had happened to Zhuo Qing, his soul should have automatically returned to the inner court for refinement—unless his soul itself had met with disaster.

Lin Jiu responded respectfully, “Understood.”

The elder continued, “The death of the earth spirit in your region requires extra vigilance. Report any abnormalities immediately.”

“Understood.”

“Any signs of the ghost king who escaped from the Tower of Karma?”

“None yet. The search continues, but it’s possible it fled elsewhere.”

“…Apart from the ghost god, have there been any signs of the other two gods appearing?”

“No signs.”

On the first floor of the talisman shop, an apprentice handling reception duties had just seen off a customer. Returning to his desk, he resumed reviewing his notes.

Flipping to a new page, he drew a few lines in the blank space at the bottom. The sketch resembled a door.

Above that page were several lines of text.

Ghost Gods: Underworld, door-shaped forms.

Mountain God: Accounts vary widely; it is shrouded in mystery.

Chaos God: Known as Hui Shou, resembling a grotesque beast with three crimson eyes, often mistaken for a ghost.

The Three Gods are mutually attracted to one another and may appear together.

The apprentice finished sketching the door from memory. But after staring at it for a moment, an inexplicable sense of dread crept over him. He tore out the half-page and threw it away.

As night fell, the celestial masters assigned to the evening shift began their rounds.

Residents hurried home and the streets grew desolate.

Several teams patrolled outward from the city center, using compasses to search for anomalies, especially in shadowy, abandoned corners.

As one team neared the outskirts, their patrol concluded, and they prepared to head back.

One member glanced toward the distance and hesitantly asked, “What about that area?”

“No one’s lived there for a long time,” the captain replied, pausing briefly before adding, “though Chief Lian seemed to have moved in there for a few days.”

None of them knew why Lian Yi had come to this area. With no specific mission assigned, the Chief Celestial Masters had great freedom in their movements.

The questioner fell silent. Only as they passed through the street did he mutter under his breath, “If only it were another Chief Celestial Master…”

Having a Chief Celestial Master nearby usually felt like a guarantee of safety, a figure to turn to in any crisis.

But Lian Yi was different from the others.

Or rather, he was different from ordinary humans altogether.

Born with a cursed body steeped in malevolence, even if he had lived peacefully to the end of his natural life, his death would still transform him into a vicious ghost of immense hostility, repelling human souls.

At the same time, his living soul carried this malevolence, making him the ideal prey for ghosts. Most people like him didn’t survive past the age of ten—Lian Yi was an exception.

Yet, being nourished by malevolent energy shaped not only his body but also his temperament.

Such an uncontrollable and extreme existence had somehow become a celestial master.

—

On the outskirts, a single-story house stood out in the pitch-black night, its light glaringly conspicuous.

Lian Yi sat on the sofa in the study, rolling up his right sleeve to reveal a blood-soaked bandage.

Undoing the bandage, he exposed a deep wound on his forearm, so severe that the bone was visible. Fresh blood seeped continuously from the cut, showing no signs of healing.

Reaching for a bottle of medicinal powder on the coffee table, Lian Yi sprinkled it over the wound before wrapping it with a fresh bandage.

His expression remained serene, as though he felt no pain at all.

“Why aren’t you dead yet?”

On the coffee table sat a square glass jar, sealed with talisman paper. Inside was a shapeless mass of black.

“You’ve committed blasphemous acts—how long do you think you can hide it?” the black mass said, its voice that of a man in his forties or fifties. “I’d suggest you kill yourself now. Maybe then you’ll have a slim chance at redemption.”

The voice rambled on, spitting curses intermittently.

Lian Yi seemed entirely indifferent. Once he finished re-bandaging his arm, he finally raised his gaze.

The black mass immediately let out a bloodcurdling scream.

The sound, muffled by the sealed glass jar, carried a chilling despair and agony.

A few minutes later, silence returned to the jar.

Lian Yi’s tone was calm. “Relax. You won’t die just yet.”

The death of a ghost meant complete obliteration—nothing left behind, no trace remaining.

The black mass, now devoid of strength to speak, curled into itself and trembled sporadically.

At that moment, a faint noise came from the direction of the kitchen.

Lian Yi put away the glass jar and opened the door.

At the same time, Nan Deng was tiptoeing and peering into the kitchen, with the rabbit head perched on top of his own.

He had come back again tonight but couldn’t find the little black cat. Instead, he noticed that the kitchen window was left open, and wisps of smoke were drifting out.

Nan Deng had been watching for a while, hearing the sounds of pots, pans, and fire inside, yet he couldn’t see anyone.

As he wondered about it, a palm-sized paper figure came into view, dragging an eggplant twice its size.

Nan Deng’s eyes widened, and he let out a surprised “Huh?”

The little paper figure seemed to hear him, stopping in its tracks and tilting its head to look his way.

After a few seconds, it set the eggplant down and ran closer, studying him carefully.

Though the paper figure’s face had no eyes, Nan Deng could somehow feel its gaze.

The ghost and the paper figure locked stares. Upon realizing Nan Deng was a ghost, the paper figure shrieked in terror.

Its voice wasn’t loud, but it startled Nan Deng nonetheless.

Just then, a gust of wind blew by, causing the paper figure by the window to wobble slightly.

The rabbit head leaped up, clamping its mouth onto the paper figure and crunching away noisily.

A commotion erupted in the kitchen and Nan Deng quickly fled with the rabbit head.

As he carried the rabbit head in his arms, he asked worriedly, “Xiao Tu, did you eat that?”

The markings on the rabbit head’s ears were still intact, but who knew what strange thing it had just devoured?

Held in Nan Deng’s hands, the rabbit head licked its lips.

That reaction seemed to suggest… it was tasty.