“Ah, husband—what did you mean by those words you said to Wang Nima when you left the Ancient Shrine?”
“What words?”
“‘Fought eight hundred rounds, tried every position’… what does *that* mean?”
“This…”
Seeing the Ghost Emperor’s cold, mocking smile, Zhong Cheng knew she was playing dumb—asking on purpose.
Sly creature.
Zhong Cheng wasn’t stupid. Answering honestly now? He’d be drained dry.
He’d steeled himself for death, sure—but dying wasn’t the worst part. The real fear? The Ghost Emperor, furious and humiliated, torturing him first.
He hated pain!
“Stop talking! Kiss me—or just kill me! I won’t listen to a word. Hurry up and end it. I don’t wanna live!”
“Better to die with honor than live in shame!”
Zhong Cheng went loud and reckless—a deliberately suicidal stunt—to make her forget the question. Classic misdirection.
“Husband, you needn’t resist me so. This wife means you no harm,” the Ghost Emperor said.
“No harm? You nearly sucked me dry—I’m a withered husk…” Zhong Cheng muttered weakly.
Too weak, too hungry to speak properly, he trembled as he unzipped his backpack, pulled out Chubby Joy Chips, tore the pack open, and crunched down. *Crunch…*
Gotta regain enough strength to argue with this ghostly wife.
These snacks were meant for Bao Hua Village’s brats—but unused, so he ate them himself.
Chubby Joy Chips, Cookies, Chicken Bites, Soda, Noodles…
The otaku’s ultimate comfort combo.
With effort, he twisted the soda cap open and chugged. *Chug chug chug…*
Feeling slightly restored, he ripped open the cookies. *Munch munch…*
“If you truly mean no harm,” Zhong Cheng said, mouth greasy, “let me go home—or kiss me. No deal otherwise.”
Sugar and carbs surged through him. His voice firmed up.
“No problem. If husband wishes to return home… go ahead,” the Ghost Emperor said.
Meow? Meow? Meow?
“Did I hear right? *My city home?*” Zhong Cheng stammered.
“Yes. You’re this wife’s husband, not a slave. When did I ever say I’d confine you?”
True… she never did.
But just *let* him go? No trick?
She’d treated him like emergency rations, her personal possession. Let him leave Bao Hua Village? Not fear he’d vanish?
Entrapment?
Ghost words weren’t trustworthy.
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll run?”
“No. This wife believes husband *wouldn’t dare* abandon me.”
Oh, that “wouldn’t dare.”
Overconfident? Or *painfully* overconfident?
(Though… he really wouldn’t dare.)
“Plotting something?”
“No.”
No hesitation. Could she mean it?
A trace of hope lit Zhong Cheng’s face. Who chooses death when life’s possible?
Living well beats everything.
Clouds finally parted—moonlight ahead. Escape this haunted place.
“Thank you! I won’t abandon you. I’ll visit when I can,” he declared earnestly.
(Lie. Just to soothe her.)
Once gone, he’d never return to Bao Hua Village. Never give her another chance.
*Give me liberty, or give me death.*
Maybe today was their last meeting.
Pity, really. Without the draining, she was stunning—elegant, aloof yet enchanting. A feast for the eyes.
Walking beside her? People would green with envy. Vanity tingled just imagining it.
But… probably never again. What a shame.
The bus rumbled on—thirty, forty kilometers from Bao Hua Village.
Yet the Ghost Emperor and the specters stayed seated.
“Ahem… no need to see me off. Even the longest farewell must end,” Zhong Cheng said.
“No courtesy needed, husband. They aren’t here for *you*,” she replied.
“Then who?”
“For *this wife*,” she smiled.
“What?”
“Please speak Chinese, husband. This wife doesn’t understand foreign bird language.”
“Sorry… so why see *you* off?” Zhong Cheng asked, dread creeping in.
“Because this wife leaves White Mountain *with* husband. They’re just reluctant to part,” she said, eyes twinkling playfully.
“…”
Zhong Cheng froze. Ten seconds of frantic thought. One conclusion:
She’s coming *with* him.
“Y-you’re leaving White Mountain… *where*?” he stammered.
“Husband, haven’t you guessed? We’re married. Where you go, I follow,” she said coldly.
So she *still* wouldn’t let go. Following him *home*!
Are you Ghost Emperor or a clingy spirit? Just… let me be.
*Please*… be a good person—oops, good *ghost*.
“No! Absolutely not! Plotting to harm my family? The whole city?!”
He refused.
She was terrifying—omnipotent, casually draining people. In a crowded city? Atrocities awaited.
He wasn’t a hero. But his *family*? Never.
“If I meant harm, would I wait till now? Think, husband,” she said calmly.
“You *did* harm me! Sucked me dry!” Zhong Cheng whined, eyes glistening.
“Husband’s yang energy simply tastes *too* good. Not this wife’s fault.”
*My* fault?!
Again?!
Harming people and blaming the victim? Unbelievable.
This logic made his brain crack.
…But honestly? If she wanted victims, Bao Hua Village—right beside the Ancient Shrine—would’ve been full of desiccated corpses. Yet villagers lived peacefully, practicing their rituals daily.
So why follow him to the city?
“Where husband goes, this wife follows.”
“*Just* that? No hidden plan?”
Ghost words. Untrustworthy.
He glared suspiciously—until she blinked those innocent eyes, playful and sweet.
Zhong Cheng’s heart *thumped*. Lecherous grin slipped out.
How can a *ghost* be this enchanting with one blink?! Stop staring—you’ll short-circuit!
*Zen mode: activate!*
“No. I won’t let you follow me back,” he declared firmly.
“This wife restricts no freedom—so husband restricts none of mine.”
“NO! Screw freedom—I’m getting off! NOW!” Zhong Cheng yelled.
“Ungrateful. Polite words ignored? Then… no more courtesy. Suck~”
*Slap! Slap! Slap!*
Zhong Cheng saw her face turn icy—tried to dodge—too late.
She yanked his collar, lifted him like a chick, took a sip, then slapped his cheeks.
Stars exploded. Strength vanished. He slumped back, limp and silent.
*Who am I? Where am I? … Can I get a little… pick-me-up?*
Reality crashed back—instantly.
