Chapter 15: Grandpa, City Folks Are So Eccentric

Nan Yuanman’s steps faltered as she turned toward the source of the voice. That place emitted a faint aura of阴气—subtle but tinged with a distinctly malevolent intent that unsettled her.

Frowning slightly, she clutched her cloth bag and, with a small pout, slipped quietly into the nearby thicket.

At that moment, deep within a secluded grove in the Ancient Villa District, the sun had already set. The canopy of leaves cast deep shadows, rendering the grove dim and concealing any occupants from casual passersby.

A slender youth, dressed in a white shirt and suit trousers, with medium-length hair and handsome features, knelt on the grass. His gaze was vacant, fixed on the faintly glowing screen of his phone.

The screen displayed an ongoing call, but curiously, the caller ID read “Anonymous.”

From the phone came a mechanical, low, hoarse voice, eerie and unnatural: “That’s right.”

“As long as you follow my instructions and end your life step by step, you and your mother can reunite in the netherworld.”

The voice grew increasingly coaxing: “There’s nothing in this world worth holding onto for you, is there?”

“Your father found a new love just six months after your mother’s death and brought home an illegitimate child. Your stepmother, sweet in appearance but bitter at heart, sowed discord between you and your father.”

“That illegitimate child has ruined your reputation at school, making everyone believe you’re a cheater and a predator.”

Pain flickered across the boy’s delicate face; his thin frame trembled slightly as the voice continued: “Your father doesn’t believe you. Neither do your grandparents. They trust that illegitimate child’s lies, leaving you homeless and barred from education.”

“No one in this world loves you anymore. The only one who cares is your mother, who has already passed.”

As the voice spoke, the youth’s vision blurred, and before him appeared the image of his mother. She wore the red dress she had always favored in life, standing before him with a pained expression, reaching out her hand.

“Mother…” he whispered, dazed.

“Nan Qinian, your mother worries about you deeply. She misses you and longs to be reunited.” The voice softened. “Don’t you want to see her?”

His pupils dilated, his voice barely audible: “I do.”

When his mother was alive, home was a sanctuary against the storm. Since her passing, he had been without a home, with no shelter from the harsh world. Indeed, there was little left for him to cherish.

“Good child.” The voice sighed deeply, tinged with barely concealed excitement. “Don’t be afraid. Follow my instructions, and you will soon be freed.”

“Take the knife you bought today and cut your wrist.”

—

Nan Qinian’s eyes were empty, her movements mechanical as she obeyed. She withdrew the fruit knife she had specially purchased that day, the blade sharpened, and slowly pressed it against the pale skin of her wrist.

“That’s it, that’s it, good child. Don’t be afraid. When the blood drips, place your wrist on the phone. It won’t hurt.”

Nan Qinian’s hand tightened around the blade.

The sharp edge sliced the tender flesh. Just as it was about to pierce a vein, a small, stout figure suddenly burst from the surrounding grass, lunging at him: “Stop!”

With a clang, the knife was kicked from Nan Qinian’s hand.

Her eyes wide, Nan Yuanman quickly drew a talisman from her bag and struck it onto the phone lying on the ground, her youthful voice laced with anger: “You did no good in life and now hide in shadows to harm others? Come out, now!”

The talisman wrapped swiftly around the phone, glowing golden. From within came wails of agony.

Then, a black ghostly figure tinged with streaks of crimson was expelled from the phone by the talisman’s power.

It was the ghost of a student clad in a high school uniform, a knife lodged in his chest. His skin was pale and bluish, his face marked with dark veins, giving him a terrifying appearance.

He rolled on the ground several times, eyes blazing with fury as he glared at Nan Yuanman. His black eyes gradually turned blood red: “Nosy little brat! You’re asking for death!”

With a roar, he charged at Nan Yuanman.

Her expression hardened. Drawing another talisman from her bag, she formed hand seals and stomped the Yu step, ready to strike a killing blow.

But the student ghost abruptly veered midair and vanished into the dense forest.

Nan Yuanman stared in disbelief and shouted, “That’s not fair! You don’t fight fair!”

He actually dared to trick her! The audacity!

The fleeing ghost sneered inwardly.

He was no fool.

The moment Nan Yuanman threw the talisman, he knew he was outmatched.

So of course, he ran!

Better to live and fight another day.

—

Nan Qinian slowly regained clarity from the haze, hearing the frantic childish voice beside him, and asked instinctively, “What do you mean, not fighting fair?”

A sudden sting from his wrist made him gasp sharply: “Hiss—!”

Pain fully brought him to his senses. He looked at his injured wrist, then at the small child before him, their eyes locked in mutual surprise.

“Wait, who are you?”

“Where am I? Why is my wrist bleeding?”

Nan Yuanman blinked and asked, “Don’t you remember what just happened?”

“Your injury is self-inflicted,” she said, pointing at his wrist and then at the fruit knife she had kicked away. “You were shouting about reuniting with your mother while slashing your wrist.”

Nan Qinian’s eyes widened in shock.

“No way! I would never do something so foolish!”

He truly missed his mother, yes, but he knew he was born from her great struggles; no matter how difficult, he had to live well for her sake.

Only by living could he exact revenge on those despicable people.

How could he seek death? That was utterly out of character.

“Oh, normally you wouldn’t do something like this. But if a ghost messes with your mind, it’s possible,” Nan Yuanman explained, pointing to the phone wrapped in talisman paper. “There’s a ghost inside your phone. I saw it tempting you to commit suicide and stepped in to save you.”

She held out her hand. “Rescue fee: ten thousand yuan, cash.”

Nan Qinian stared in disbelief.

“Kid, are you trying to scam me?” he asked skeptically.

Nan Yuanman couldn’t help but retort, “What’s a short-lived ghost like you got to scam?”

“Short-lived ghost?” he repeated, pointing at himself.

“Yes. You were born in the year of the Metal Rat, the tenth lunar month of 2020. The Metal element in your birth chart is weak, drained by the Water element of the Rat month. Your hour pillar is Ji Mao; the Earth element there barely supports your Metal, and the Wood element in Mao clashes with the Earth. You’ve been frail and prone to illness since childhood, suffered a severe illness at ten, your vitality is depleted, and now ghostly energy is eroding you further. You won’t live past thirty. If that’s not a short-lived ghost, then what is?”

All that sounded like jibber-jabber to Nan Qinian—basically, “You won’t live past thirty. You’re a short-lived ghost.”

His eyes suddenly lit up—not with fear of an early death but with excitement at meeting a true master.

He dropped to his knees before Nan Yuanman, grasping her hands tightly, his face alight with hope.

“Master! You’re a true master! You even knew the exact year and month I was born. Can you tell me when my father will die? Will he die before me?”

Whether he lived or died was secondary; his father had to die.

Nan Yuanman stared at him, speechless: “...Huh?”

Grandpa, these city folks are really crazy.