Losing consciousness for no reason. Driving the car deep into the mountains. Arm soreness after reckless speeding. And now—two mysterious strangers suddenly in the backseat.
Too eerie!
Too eerie!
Too eerie!
The driver sneakily glanced at them through the rearview mirror. Their faces were ghastly pale, expressions unnerving—definitely not good people.
Could it be… they weren’t human?
He’d driven this mountain road for years, shuttling villagers daily. Over time, he’d heard strange rumors: the nearby woods harbored malevolent spirits that occasionally emerged to harm travelers. One peak held an Ancient Shrine dedicated to the Ghost Emperor, who commanded legions of demons and unclean entities. These spirits sometimes possessed humans. If you blacked out and woke somewhere unfamiliar with no memory—you’d likely been taken over. Or if, driving alone at night, a stranger suddenly appeared in your car… eerie, silent… you must never speak to them. Never provoke them. Just drive quietly. They’d leave once you reached the destination. But disturb them? Make noise? Anger them? The car—and you—would plunge straight off the cliff.
He’d always been skeptical. *After the founding of New China, spirits weren’t supposed to exist.* He’d never seen proof.
But now… he believed.
He stole another look. The young man’s cheeks were sunken, skin pale as paper, hollow eyes radiating malice. *Definitely a vengeful ghost!*
The girl beside him seemed gentler. Pale? Sure—but which modern girl isn’t? Skincare, sunscreen, AC all summer, ten layers of foundation outdoors… pale was normal. Yet she sat silent, stiff… controlled? *Was she kidnapped by that ghost? Should I play hero?*
Wait—he’s looking this way!
The driver snapped his eyes forward, heart pounding. *Don’t attract attention. Don’t get silenced.*
“Everyone sit tight. We’re moving. No talking. Stay quiet.”
He released the handbrake and drove off, praying the spirit would leave peacefully. *Heroics? Nah. My life’s not that tough.*
Vroom vroom.
The minibus engine roared louder than usual, shaking violently—like a marathon runner collapsing from exhaustion. This rust-bucket, long overdue for scrap, now felt like a centenarian on death’s door. Yet stubbornly, it rolled on.
Scenery drifted past the window.
Zhong Cheng couldn’t care less about others. Slouched limply in his seat, utterly drained—sucked dry again by the Ghost Emperor (worse than a brutal hangover), shaken by the minibus’s ghostly drift. He fumbled for snacks, shoveling carbs to revive himself.
A pale, delicate hand snatched the chip from his fingers, popped it in her mouth, chewed.
“Not bad,” the Ghost Emperor said.
Then she calmly took the whole bag of potato chips and munched contentedly.
*Rude.*
Zhong Cheng rolled his eyes slightly. *Snatching my snacks? Seriously?*
But then he froze, watching her eat. Chip after chip. Just like a human.
“…Aren’t you a ghost? How can you eat human food?”
“You think ghosts only suck yang energy and can’t taste anything?” she replied.
“Aren’t they?”
“Ordinary spirits *can’t* enjoy mortal food—it tastes like wax. They prefer joss paper, candles, mud. But *I’m* the Ghost Emperor. My senses rival humans. Eating this? Perfectly fine.”
“Right… like a game boss. Super strong. Can do what others can’t.”
“Exactly,” she said proudly.
“So… you don’t *need* my yang energy? Normal food keeps you alive?”
“Correct.”
Zhong Cheng exhaled in relief. *No more daily drain. No more feeling hollowed out.*
“However,” she added with a chilling smile, “I *still* enjoy sucking Xianggong’s yang energy. So don’t think snacks will save you.”
*Spare me…*
They finished the backpack’s snacks. The Ghost Emperor pulled out her phone. “Play Fruit Ninja with me.” Like elementary kids on a field trip.
*Is she even a ghost? Eats chips. Plays mobile games. Acts human.*
Zhong Cheng played half-heartedly, too exhausted. Gave the driver the drop-off spot, then dozed off—bumps and all couldn’t fight his fatigue.
…
..
“Passenger, we’ve arrived.”
Zhong Cheng blinked awake, rubbed his blurry eyes, peered outside. Yep.
Only two passengers remained besides the driver: Zhong Cheng and the Ghost Emperor.
He stood to pay.
“No fare needed. Safe travels,” the driver said firmly.
“No fare?”
“Yes! Please get off!”
*So insistent…* Zhong Cheng pocketed his wallet and stepped out with the Ghost Emperor.
*SLAM!*
The door shut. Engine roared. Thick black smoke belched from the exhaust. Tires screeched on dirt, kicking up dust as the minibus sped away like it fled a nightmare.
*What was that about?* Zhong Cheng tilted his head. *In a hurry?*
He turned away.
Before him stood the bus station entrance—simple, worn, yet bustling. People carried luggage in clusters. Buses arrived and departed. Traffic hummed. Voices mixed. Life.
*Back in town.*
Just a small town, but bathed in the light of human civilization. After two days of chaos, returning felt like stepping into another lifetime. Bitterness and sweetness only he knew.
This wasn’t home yet. Long journey still ahead.
He glanced sideways. The Ghost Emperor surveyed the streets—face calm, but eyes wide with quiet wonder. Like a country bumpkin in the city… or a curious Paimon.
*Huh. Even the mighty Ghost Emperor has this side. Kinda cute.*
But Zhong Cheng’s guard stayed up.
*This woman’s downright wicked. Never let your guard down.*
