VL Chapter13

Summer weather had never been predictable. After more than a month of uninterrupted drought, the sky had been perfectly clear when they went to bed, without a cloud in sight. Yet, in the middle of the night, a sudden torrential downpour erupted. It was as if Heaven were intent on making up for all the rain it had owed; falling with terrifying intensity, dense with heavy drops that slammed downward so hard they threatened to collapse any house that wasn’t sturdily built.

Thunder and lightning struck one after another as if crackling directly overhead. Yan Jiang was jolted wide awake from a deep sleep by the roaring thunder, blearily opening his eyes.

It was pitch black all around, making it impossible to tell whether dawn had broken.

His first thought was that his roof must be leaking again, and that he had to hurry up to fetch a bucket, lest the rainwater spread and ruin his books, paper, and brushes.

With his eyelids still half-lowered, he was not yet fully awake, but his body instinctively moved to push aside the thin quilt and sit up.

However, as he moved his hands, he realized something was resting atop him over the quilt; heavily weighing him down.

Rumble—

Another dull crash of thunder sounded, and the rain grew even louder. Surrounded on all sides by the rustling roar of water, it created the illusion that it was raining inside the room as well.

Whether for that reason or another, Yan Jiang felt a chill around him, which made him feel all the sleepier when contrasted with the remaining warmth inside his quilt.

Mindful of the leaks in his house, he didn’t think twice and reached out directly to push away the heavy mass on top of him.

The moment his hand made contact, he realized how bitterly cold the thing was.

Before he could process what it was, the object suddenly moved, tightening its grip around his waist and pulling him closer.

Yan Jiang’s heart skipped a beat.

“Why are you squirming?”

A man’s low, soft voice drifted from right above his head, his breath every bit as icy as the arm around his waist.

His eyes flew open, jolting him from his half-asleep state into full awareness.

He remembered now.

He remembered how the Ghost King had grabbed him yesterday at dusk, kissed him for a long time, and then forcibly pulled him into bed to sleep together.

Before his eyes was the male ghost’s chest; it was cold, and devoid of a heartbeat. Yan Jiang tried to retreat, but the arm across his lower back barred his way out.

He raised his head. Though it was entirely within his expectations, when his eyes met those crimson pupils glowing with a bloody light in the dark, his heart still trembled in sheer terror.

“It isn’t light yet. Be good and go to sleep.”

“My Lord, I…” Yan Jiang began hesitantly, his freshly awakened voice raspy and weak. “I need to check if the roof is leaking.”

Being held in Shi Xiao’s arms, he felt terribly ill at ease. His eyes darted about constantly, yet he didn’t even dare to struggle, lying there soft and submissive with one hand resting on Shi Xiao’s forearm, forgetting to pull it back.

Outside, a flash of lightning lit up heaven and earth as brightly as day, briefly illuminating even the tiny, dilapidated thatched cottage, despite its doors and windows being tightly shut.

By that momentary flash of light, Yan Jiang saw that Shi Xiao’s eyes were clear and sharp with a faint black mist hovering between his brows. He was staring down at him expressionlessly, his features looking strikingly grim and lethal.

Shivering, a sudden spike of fear flared within Yan Jiang, making him want to curl up into a ball.

Yet, constrained by their face-to-face embrace, the movement instead looked remarkably like he was willingly burrowing deeper into the Ghost King’s chest.

Shi Xiao’s chest vibrated slightly as though letting out a few soundless chuckles.

“There is this venerable one’s barrier inside the room. It won’t leak.”

An icy hand played with Yan Jiang’s earlobe, and in the shadows beyond human sight, a wisp of black ghost energy slipped into his ear canal, following the hand’s movements.

With that, a wave of drowsiness rushed over him, sweeping in with formidable force.

Yan Jiang’s heavy eyelids slowly shut, and before he could even offer an answer, he sank right back into a deep sleep; quiet and serene.

The dark posed no hindrance to a ghost’s vision. Shi Xiao admired the sight for a good while, then couldn’t help lowering his head to deeply inhale behind the scholar’s ear as if spellbound, plundering that unique, delicate fragrance.

After a quiet moment, he unclasped his arms and sat up. After inspecting the half-healed wound at his abdomen for a brief interval, he once again channeled his ghost energy to mend his injuries.

The night passed extraordinarily fast.

By morning, the violent downpour showed no signs of stopping, nor even the slightest tendency to ease up.

Yan Jiang had slept exceptionally deeply, waking up half an hour later than usual. Pushing open one side of the window shutter, he saw nothing outside but a hazy curtain of rain. The sun was firmly obscured behind thick clouds, leaving the sky in a gray twilight that was neither fully dark nor light.

Such weather made it completely impossible to set up his stall. Even if he did, there would be no business to speak of either.

The wind was damp as well, with raindrops slamming against the sill and splashing into the room. Yan Jiang withdrew his gaze from the foggy sky and helplessly pulled the window shut again.

A rare moment of leisure isn’t bad either.

He consoled himself.

No longer needing to hurry as he usually did, Yan Jiang turned and walked over to the wooden cabinet where his parents’ memorial tablets were displayed. He carefully picked out three incense sticks and lit them, then lifted his hem and respectfully dropped to both knees before the tablets.

Only at moments like this did a trace of a scholar’s integrity manifest in him. He knelt upright, holding the burning incense high above his head with both hands.

“Dear Father and Mother in heaven, please bless your son so that he may soon awaken his potential, pass the imperial examinations, and revive the Yan family, bringing comfort to the hopes of our ancestors.”

Although this petition was part of his routine prayers, keeping in mind that the Ghost King was sitting right in the main hall, he instinctively softened his voice. Having spoken, he bowed, knocking his head firmly against the floor.

Everything seemed entirely ordinary.

Yet Yan Jiang knew full well that he had secretly harbored other words, choosing not to utter them aloud.

The moment his forehead touched the ground, he whispered quietly in his heart: And please, Father and Mother, protect your child so he may escape with his life from the hands of the Ghost King, and spend the rest of his days in peace.

He completed three proper, solemn kowtows.

He had no idea that the Ghost King had left a wisp of ghost energy inside his body, let alone that the entity could probe his thoughts whenever and wherever he pleased, naively believing his little prayer was covert enough.

When he stood back up from the ground, however, he felt a sudden chill sweep over his back.

It was Shi Xiao who had approached without a sound, pressing close with a cold sneer.

“Those parents of yours are nothing more than bottom-tier ghosts in the Netherworld. What good is there in begging them?”

Yan Jiang was still holding the burning incense; his hand trembled, causing the burnt ash to scatter down. Brushing across the back of his hand with a residual trace of warmth from the embers, it finally fell onto the floor.

Shi Xiao pressed extremely close, tilting his head slightly. Since he was much taller than Yan Jiang, his icy breath brushed against the scholar’s temple as he spoke, “The Sovereign of the Ghost Realm stands right before you. Whatever Ah Fu wants, you’d be far better off asking this venerable one directly.”

This was the second time he had called Yan Jiang “Ah Fu,” yet he uttered it with complete naturalness and intimacy. The tone was rather peculiar; two words that had sounded utterly ordinary when called out by his parents in the past now carried a sense of lingering, romantic affection when spoken by him as if warmed inside his mouth before being slowly exhaled.

Yan Jiang did not know how to respond, much less dare to ask how he knew his pet name. He could only lower his head, exerting every ounce of effort to suppress his body’s trembling.

Shi Xiao, however, seemed utterly oblivious to this. Reaching out a hand from behind, he took the half-burned incense from Yan Jiang’s grip and inserted it into the incense burner on his behalf.

On the way back, he naturally and casually wrapped his arm around the scholar, pulling him backward to press him firmly against his chest.

“When Yan Huaizhi died, his obsession was too heavy. Unable to endure judgment upon entering the Netherworld, his soul scattered into nonexistence long ago,” he murmured slowly against the rim of Yan Jiang’s ear, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. “Why be so stubborn about pursuing official rank? How grand would it be if this venerable one bestowed upon you a lifetime of wealth and honor, letting you live out your days in carefree leisure?”

He sounded every bit like those rich, playboy scoundrels of the Mortal Realm, making a whimsical promise in a momentary fit of lightheaded vanity.

Even Shi Xiao himself felt absurd after saying it.

He was merely staying in the human realm temporarily. Reason dictated that on the day of his departure, he ought to erase every trace of his presence; including wiping away all memories from this little scholar’s mind.

Yan Jiang, naturally, was even less capable of accepting such an offer. Opening and closing his mouth several times, he could only manage to stammer out a short, dry refusal, “I… this humble one wouldn’t dare.”

He didn’t dare defy the dying wishes of his ancestors by giving up the imperial examinations, nor did he dare accept gifts offered by a specter of the Netherworld.

He wanted nothing more than to stay far away from the Ghost King; it had been that way from the start, and even more so now.

He assumed he would be put on the spot again.

Yet after waiting for quite some time, until his feet had begun to grow slightly numb, he felt the Ghost King let go of him and take a step back with his icy body.

“You dullard, how on earth did you come to be reincarnated into the Yan family…”

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