VL Chapter5

After mulling it over, Yan Jiang brought it up at dinner and asked the old couple about the ravens.

The old farmer wasn’t surprised at all and nodded to confirm that ravens did indeed appear in the village often. Seeing Yan Jiang’s uneasy expression, the old woman explained from the side, “There’s a godforsaken curse of a person at the entrance of the neighboring village who has fondness for raising those unlucky creatures. Sometimes they even fly right up to our doorstep in the middle of the night, just ignore them.”

Yan Jiang could only let the matter drop.

The peasant couple were simple and hospitable. Although their own meals seldom included oil or meat throughout the year, they still insisted on calling Yan Jiang, who was staying temporarily, to join them for all three meals. The rice porridge was as thin as water, but fortunately, they had their own homegrown vegetables. Finely chopped and boiled into the rice water, the porridge carried the fresh aroma of wild greens. Served alongside a small dish of pickled vegetables, it was easy enough to eat, though Yan Jiang, who had long lived alone, still felt an unavoidable sense of unfamiliarity.

They ate at a small table set up in the courtyard. As the sky gradually darkened, the old man smiled so hard his eyes squinted into slits, “We haven’t asked yet, what is your name, child?”

Yan Jiang shuddered slightly and hesitated for a moment, “This junior’s surname is Yan, and my given name is Jiang.”

“Yan Jiang? As expected of a scholar, that’s a finely given name…” The old man nodded in admiration.

Whether it was an illusion or not, his gaze slipped out from beneath his drooping eyelids, fixed directly on the scholar’s face. While his posture seemed like appreciation for a junior, it made one feel as uncomfortable as if covered in thorns. Yan Jiang subconsciously avoided this gaze.

The doubts in his heart expanded infinitely, yet he could not find a precise thread to follow. He could only use the cover of the night to hide his panic by pretending to be calm as he set down his bowl and chopsticks, stood up, and said he was full and wanted to return to his room to rest.

Looking again, he saw no hint of anything unusual in the old couple’s expressions. They nodded and did not try to keep him longer. Just before Yan Jiang closed his room door, the old woman looked up at the sky and reminded him with a smile, “It looks like rain is coming. Sleep early tonight, Child, so you won’t be kept awake by the rain in the middle of the night.”

Yan Jiang agreed politely.

After night fell, the wind did indeed pick up, dispersing the daytime’s sweltering heat and bringing a crisp freshness that felt like the approaching autumn.

After cleaning up the dishes, the old couple also returned to their own room, and the courtyard fell completely silent. Occasionally, fallen leaves were swept along by the wind, scraping against the ground with a faint rustling sound.

In such a comfortable environment, sleepiness came on surprisingly quickly. Yan Jiang took off his shoes and climbed into bed. He originally intended to carefully ponder his future path, but in the end, he couldn’t figure out anything concrete and drifted off to sleep before he knew it.

In the latter half of the night, thunder indeed rolled outside the window, followed by a violent downpour. Rainwater lashed against the roof tiles and window shutters, washing away the lingering warmth of the daylight completely. The sound of rain disturbed his sleep, leaving his dreams in disarray. One strange scene after another surfaced and dissolved. Covered only by a thin sheet, the scholar felt a chill in his half-awake state and instinctively curled himself inward.

Caw—caw—caw—

From afar, there seemed to be some other movement, but it was quickly swallowed by the sound of rain, breaking apart into something faint and indistinct. Yan Jiang could not tell dream from reality. His body felt as if it had awakened, but his spirit was still utterly exhausted, and he remained completely motionless with his eyes closed.

The claps of thunder crashed down one after another, making his chest throb violently. His consciousness grew clearer and clearer, and his sense of hearing also became incredibly sharp, uncontrollably capturing every sound in his surroundings.

The source of that sound from earlier seemed to be moving; drawing nearer and nearer, growing louder and more distinct, gradually becoming clearer. It sounded like… the cawing of ravens.

Had the ravens from the neighboring village flown over again?

Yan Jiang thought, taking it for granted.

However, in the very next instant, he realized the irrationality of it. His body suddenly froze, and all sleepiness vanished without a trace: it was pouring outside.

Whether they were ravens or sparrows, any living creature that flew in the sky knew to shelter from the rain. How could feathers drenched in rain still manage to fly? How could it still approach this way at such a rapid speed?

No, something was wrong.

Everything was completely unreasonable.

Furthermore, it had only recently entered the hottest period of summer, so how could a mere rainstorm make it so cold that it felt like late autumn…

Yan Jiang’s heart gradually beat faster and faster.

He did not dare open his eyes, much less dare to move. He maintained his curled-up posture for a long time without daring to shift, until his body grew sore and numb. Beneath the blanket, only his fingers slowly curled inward, silently tightening around the amulet hanging at his chest, as he prayed that it would truly ward off misfortune and repel evil for him.

—Mother, Father…

When a cold laugh erupted right by his ear, Yan Jiang’s mind went entirely blank. It was as if even his emotions were frozen; his first reaction was unexpectedly not fear. He opened his eyes. The dim light of dawn cast a faint silhouette inside the room. Through the yellowed, worn bed curtains, the thatched roof was faintly visible. At the top of the curtains were several patched repairs; the one in the upper-left corner was the oldest, already faded to a pale white, it was the mark left from when he had mischievously torn it as a child.

It was the home where he had lived for over twenty years.

When he fled from home, he only thought of hiding for a while and that he would return one day. He never expected it would happen in this manner, waking up from sleep to find himself vanished into thin air from Husan Township over a hundred miles away, and returned to this place.

Yan Jiang opened his mouth but could not make any sound. His screams were entirely choked in his throat, and only then did he discover that his whole body was unable to move. He could only lie on the bed like a corpse while watching in terror and despair as a humanoid figure two paces away slowly approached.

It drew closer, and he could finally see the appearance of that “thing” clearly. It was a tall man exuding the aura of death with his skin a ghastly, corpse-like pale; so white that it was blindingly radiant even in such dim and hazy light, contrasting sharply with his high-bound hair, which was blacker than ink. He wore luxurious clothing of an unfamiliar style with large panels of black trimmed in gold, and a heavy scattering of red at the cuffs of his sleeves, which seemed to be countless mysterious and intricate embroidered patterns that flowed ceaselessly with the swaying of his movements. Yan Jiang could not help but look closer, and his mind was instantly ensnared; the patterns surged forward as if to brush against his face, threatening to swallow and devour his very soul.

“Presumptuous!”

It was a cold, low bark.

A sweep of a sleeve flashed across Yan Jiang’s field of vision as a powerful gust of wind struck his cheek, forcing his head to tilt to the side. Coming back to his senses, he saw that the eerie man was still standing there calmly, looking down at him with a gaze as indifferent and emotionless as if he were merely an insignificant ant.

“If you want to live, listen well. The Ghost Realm can hold off on claiming you for now,” the other party’s tone was lofty, devoid of any warmth. “This venerable one has no intention of interfering with the laws of the Mortal Realm. This venerable one is merely residing here temporarily and requires a quiet place to stay. The fact that this venerable one have set my sights on your home is your good fortune. You have a sliver of this venerable one’s ghostly energy inside your body; you are welcome to run away again, but even if you flee to the ends of the earth, this venerable one can still find you, just like tonight.”

As if amused by Yan Jiang’s increasingly terrified gaze, the ghost narrowed his eyes and shifted to a slightly softer tone, “But it would be best not to try. After all, if you were to provoke this venerable one, the single life of the Yan family’s only son in Jin County would not be enough to repay the debt. As for the two souls of the Yan couple, who entered the Underworld in the eighty-fourth year of Longjia and have yet to be reborn, it would take this venerable one no more than a flick of the finger to scatter them into ash and smoke.”

As he spoke, a mass of black mist billowed out of thin air behind the ghost, gathering and condensing into a luxurious chair of purple wood. His eyes were completely black, without a trace of white, and within those ink-dark depths, his pupils faintly glimmered with a blood-red light. Paired with his slow, unhurried cadence, he was several times more terrifying than the black mist Yan Jiang had first encountered.

The man sat down with effortless ease, reclining in the chair and loosely propping his chin on his hand, his posture carrying an air of aristocratic indolence. “If you understand, then get up and stand properly.”

With an imperceptible twitch of his index finger, he removed all the restraints holding the human down.

Yan Jiang had long been scared half to death. He had not processed much of the other words, but he managed to understand that the souls of his deceased parents were being held in the other party’s hands. Ignoring the tears of terror streaming down his face, he scrambled off the dilapidated bed and crawled forward, hunching his body to kneel at the Ghost King’s feet. In frantic succession, he pressed his forehead to the ground, knocking out repeated kowtows.

“I was wrong, this humble one was truly wrong! My Lord is magnanimous and broad of heart, please spare this humble one just this once. Yan will be your ox and horse; I’ll do anything without hesitation!”

As he reached the height of his agitation, his tongue tied itself in knots, and a weeping tone, trembling uncontrollably from fear, slipped out. His appearance, covered in a mess of tears and snot, was both pathetic and filthy. Shi Xiao was already somewhat displeased, and at the thought that if this person broke his own face from kowtowing, it would only be more annoying to look at while he hovered around every day, so he reluctantly released a plume of black mist to block his continued kowtowing.

Yet it was precisely this type of cowardly person who was the most obedient and useful to handle. Since his master did not speak, Yan Jiang remained frozen in a prostrate position with his five limbs flat on the ground, not daring to move. Shi Xiao raised his foot and set his long black boot onto that seemingly frail spine, treating him as nothing more than a footstool. Yan Jiang only trembled, not daring to make a single sound.

The violent heartbeat transmitted through flesh, clothing, and the sole of the boot to the bottom of his foot, showing that this person was frightened to the absolute limit. If he were to receive another shock, he would likely drop dead on the spot without Shi Xiao having to lift a hand. Judging that he meant well, Shi Xiao refrained from conjuring any further grotesque sights, instead manipulating the black mist to lift the person’s head, forcing him to look up at him from below.

“This venerable one is the Sovereign of the Ghost Realm, named Shi Xiao. Have you remembered it?”

“I-I have remembered it.”

After a pause, he timidly reported his own name in a small voice, “This humble one is surnamed Yan, given name Jiang, courtesy name Fusheng…”

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