Under dim lighting, faces were nearly impossible to make out. Only at an uncomfortably close distance could one see another’s features.
The music shifted rhythms. The beat pulsed beneath their feet. Men and women pressed close together, swaying, stepping forward and back like lotus stems connected at the root, their movements laced with unspoken tension and sensuality.
But Jiang Luo and the man were stuck at the edge of the dance floor.
With his hair down, Jiang Luo looked alluring but still carried a heroic edge. When tied up high, his hair made him appear even more bold and dashing.
No one would mistake him for a girl.
Two men entering the dance floor together was… a little awkward.
After saying yes, Jiang Luo began to think he had agreed too quickly. Even if Chi You wanted to embarrass himself, Jiang Luo shouldn’t have gone along with it.
He stood there unfazed. The stranger’s deep, sorrowful eyes watched him intently—eyes that could stir guilt in anyone they stared at. “Sir?”
Jiang Luo was completely unmoved.
The music grew louder and more intense. The stranger’s eyes slid to Jiang Luo’s right hand, and he said, as if complimenting it, “Your bracelet is very beautiful.”
Jiang Luo glanced at the Yin-Yang hoop on his wrist. The mysterious, lovely bracelet didn’t react at all. He narrowed his eyes and said, “Yeah, I think it’s beautiful too.”
The music reached a high point, then suddenly dropped off, and the colorful lights that had been illuminating the area shifted elsewhere.
In the brief darkness, a ghostly pale hand suddenly reached out from behind and shoved Jiang Luo forward. Caught off guard, he stumbled into the dance floor.
The melancholic man followed closely, naturally steadying him and guiding him through a dance step.
A stranger’s hand rested on Jiang Luo’s waist, and the subtle scent of elegant men’s cologne lingered faintly around his nose. The melancholic man smiled and said, “You’re quite enthusiastic, sir.”
In the dark, Jiang Luo couldn’t see a thing. He struggled slightly, but the person in front of him gently whispered, “Focus.”
Jiang Luo gave a cold laugh and was about to wrench the hand off his waist when the lights returned. Under the colorful illumination, an invisible black mist gripped his wrist from behind—it felt like a hundred ghostly hands watching and clutching at him in the dark, their malevolence blatant and undisguised.
The man gave a strange smile. “Wrong move.”
The ghostly hand was ice-cold, chilling to the bone.
Jiang Luo took a deep breath. Instead of getting angry, he smiled. Keeping time with the beat, he suddenly stepped forward and yanked hard on the man’s tie. “Sir, you’re being rather rude.”
As the man bent forward from the force, he looked intrigued. “Oh?”
Jiang Luo stared at the man’s silhouette in the dark, his hot breath fanning across the man’s face. “This dance is completely boring.”
The corner of his lips curled into a wicked grin. The dark-haired youth’s smile was both seductive and venomous. “You’ve completely killed my appetite.”
The music suddenly grew faster and more intense.
The stranger simply smiled. He took Jiang Luo’s hand and led him through a quick, abrupt spin, and in the next moment, Jiang Luo found himself in the grasp of another person—this one had rough, calloused hands.
This person’s voice was hoarse, and he wore a leather jacket. He sounded like a cool guy. “I’m curious,” he said.
Jiang Luo asked, “Curious about what?”
Taking the opportunity, he touched the wrist of the leather jacket man and felt a strong, steady pulse. He was alive.
Jiang Luo’s eyes briefly showed a flicker of contemplation. Then, from the darkness on his right, another hand emerged and grabbed his arm.
He looked up. This hand was slender and youthful, with full fingertips—it looked like a college boy’s hand.
Still alive.
The melancholic man, the leather jacket guy, and now this new person—three separate individuals.
Could a seventh-night malicious spirit really be this powerful?
Back in school, even Chi You could only manipulate the souls of birds, living or dead.
D*mn it. Why wasn’t the Yin-Yang hoop reacting?
The college student emerged from the shadows and replaced the leather jacket guy as Jiang Luo’s dance partner.
He leaned down to whisper in Jiang Luo’s ear. His clean-cut, handsome face suddenly twisted into a distorted ghost mask. The grin on the mask was eerie, though his tone remained deceptively gentle. “Who could possibly avoid killing your appetite?”
Before Jiang Luo could respond, he continued, voice still soft and false, “I prefer you with your hair down.”
Some unseen hand removed the hair tie from Jiang Luo’s hair. His black locks spilled loose over his shoulders.
A mischievous strand of hair slid down and framed Jiang Luo’s sharp, gloomy gaze.
Without hesitation, Jiang Luo pulled out a talisman and slapped it firmly against the man’s chest.
The paper ignited from the bottom up, turning to ash. The ghost mask on the college student’s face vanished, and he froze in place like a robot with its battery removed. Another calloused hand reached for Jiang Luo, but he spun around swiftly—his black hair flying—and slapped another talisman onto that hand.
Then he threw a third talisman at the melancholic man.
Flashes of fire from the talismans lit up the bar. The lights suddenly blazed back on, and the music had changed to a different track.
Jiang Luo looked at the three puppets.
They were all handsome. After the talismans took effect, the three of them looked momentarily dazed, then casually dispersed into the crowd, seemingly unaware that anything was wrong.
The malicious ghost could not only possess people—it could also perform puppet soul-refinement techniques. Jiang Luo was truly caught off guard.
Face grim, Jiang Luo pushed through the crowd and returned to the bar.
But when he got there, he saw a group of people passed out across the counter. Ge Zhu was hugging a beer bottle and mumbling Daoist scriptures. When he saw Jiang Luo approach, he hiccupped and asked, slurring, “Jiang Luo, where’d you go? We couldn’t find you anywhere.”
Jiang Luo: “…How did you all end up this drunk?”
Ge Zhu couldn’t hear him anymore and continued muttering to himself before suddenly slumping over and passing out on the counter.
Zhuo Zhongqiu rushed in from outside, sweating all over. When she saw Jiang Luo, she let out a breath of relief. “Thank heaven you’re still standing. These useless guys had one sip and all passed out—I already sent three of them to a nearby hotel. Jiang Luo, help me carry the rest out.”
Jiang Luo: “Got it.”
He lifted Ge Zhu and slung his arm over his shoulder. As he stood up, he glanced at the bartender.
The bartender gave a polite smile. “Need help, sir?”
Jiang Luo smiled back. “Yes, thank you.”
The bartender came out and helped Jiang Luo carry Ge Zhu to a taxi outside the bar. Jiang Luo took the opportunity to press a talisman to the bartender’s body—but, to his surprise, it had no effect.
Jiang Luo put the talisman away, feeling like he was being toyed with.
The enemy had deliberately revealed a weakness when controlling the bartender, only to abandon him as a puppet before Jiang Luo could make a move.
It was as if Chi You was playing with him—hiding in the shadows, watching through every person and every creature.
The thought left Jiang Luo irritated.
Because he knew that unless he could find a precise way to identify Chi You’s puppets, the soul-refining puppet technique would be impossible to guard against.
Jiang Luo turned and went back to help Zhuo Zhongqiu carry the remaining two drunks. Only four people could fit in the taxi.
Zhuo Zhongqiu said, “I’ll send you the hotel address. You take them back first.”
Jiang Luo shook his head. No matter how handsome Zhuo Zhongqiu was, she was still a girl. “I’ll call another cab and follow behind you.”
“Alright,” Zhuo Zhongqiu said. “I’ll tell the driver to go slow.”
She got in the car, and moments later, the taxi slowly drove off.
Jiang Luo stood by the roadside hailing a cab. Under the dark sky, the air had turned slightly chilly, and a light drizzle began to fall, landing first on Jiang Luo’s eyelashes.
He blinked, and the raindrops dyed the ground with dark specks before quickly disappearing without a trace.
A black umbrella suddenly appeared over Jiang Luo’s head, shielding him from the light rain.
Jiang Luo turned his head—and was met with a pale face.
The man was dressed in a well-fitted suit, a gentle smile on his lips, his fingers gripping the umbrella handle. His face carried a strange, deathly beauty with a subtle hint of madness. His smile grew wider and wider, a mix of pleasure and cruelty, and he hummed as if singing, “Good evening.”
Persistent as a ghost.
Jiang Luo instantly pulled out a talisman and threw it. The ghostly figure dispersed, and the black umbrella vanished.
A taxi pulled up in front of Jiang Luo.
Expressionless, Jiang Luo got in the car, lifted his eyes toward the rearview mirror, and said, “Follow the taxi ahead.”
The driver stepped on the gas.
Jiang Luo’s right eyelid twitched. He leaned his arm against the window, rubbed his forehead, and sighed.
“I mean,” his uncovered right eye lifted slightly, a glamorous glint shooting toward the driver with a mix of provocation and mockery, “Chi You, don’t you have anything better to do?”
***
It was a full hour later when Jiang Luo finally returned to his room to rest.
He had used up six talismans just to get back to the hotel. His entire body was soaked in sweat, sticky with liquor from carrying the drunken others, his clothes and hair clinging to him.
He locked the door, pasted a talisman behind it, and went to take a shower.
When he came out again, the cold air from the AC made him shiver. He towel-dried his hair and plugged in the hairdryer at the bedside.
As the noisy buzzing filled the room, a knock sounded at the door.
The talisman on the back of the door glowed, alerting Jiang Luo that the visitor outside wasn’t human.
He yawned and continued drying his hair, entirely unbothered.
Half a minute later, the knocking came again.
The talisman suddenly ignited and burned up. After that, there was no more sound.
Seven talismans in total—now all used up.
Jiang Luo checked the time. Great. It was just past midnight.
The blow dryer buzzed for another five or six minutes before he stopped, leaving his hair only half dry. He was physically tired, but mentally wired. He knew Chi You wouldn’t let things rest—there was still a major battle ahead.
Taking advantage of the temporary quiet, Jiang Luo lifted his right hand and examined the Yin-Yang hoop.
Murmuring to himself, “Are you a fake?”
You don’t seem to be of any use at all.
Sure enough, nothing comes without a price.
Jiang Luo sighed. Then, the knocking came again.
His brow twitched. He got off the bed, slipped on his slippers, and went to open the door. But outside, there was no one. The corridor was completely empty—not even a mosquito in sight.
He closed the door and turned around with a grim expression—
And slammed right into someone’s chest.
Chi You took a step forward. The darkness around him seemed to come straight from the depths of h*ll, swallowing light and fracturing space.
A thick mist clung to him. The black fog spread out along Jiang Luo’s figure, eventually enveloping even the tips of his toes and the last strand of his hair.
Jiang Luo was submerged in pure black mist. Within it, a pale, slightly greenish hand toyed with his hair, slowly teasing a strand along his cheek before suddenly grabbing hold of his beautifully shaped jaw.
A pleased voice said, “Surprised that during my touqi* you were so eager to see me?”
* aka written as head-seven = the seventh day after a person’s death in Chinese customs
The hand wrapped his hair around its fingers, then slid down his face to clamp his jaw with brutal force.
Although Chi You was smiling, Jiang Luo could clearly feel that he was angry.
Because behind him, the mist had contorted into terrifying, grotesque forms.
It had only been a few days, but compared to the faint mist in Hotel 129, Chi You now almost had a human form.
Forced to tilt his chin upward, Jiang Luo found the position uncomfortable.
The more uncomfortable he was, the happier Chi You became.
“Seven talismans slapped on me—what a delightful experience,” Chi You said, voice growing colder with every word. “You really surprised me, Classmate Jiang. I never knew my student had such potential.”
Jiang Luo’s hair danced around his shoulders. He swallowed hard.
“But you’re out of talismans now,” Chi You said regretfully. The hand on Jiang Luo’s jaw tightened, and a chilling aura surged up his spine. “It’s time for your teacher… to begin your lesson.”
“First rule—respect your teacher.”
The black fog wrapped around Jiang Luo’s shoulders. His bones cracked, and his arm went limp at his side—
Dislocated.
The black mist crept further, enveloping his slim ankles.
The pain from his dislocated arm turned his face pale and drenched him in cold sweat.
But compared to the pain of being killed by Chi You eighteen times, this was nothing.
Jiang Luo suddenly smiled. There was a fierce light in his eyes, as if a burning, boiling soul were trapped inside.
Softly, he said, “Teacher, you’re right.”
The black mist that was about to snap his ankle paused. Chi You, slightly puzzled, lazily responded, “Hm?”
Jiang Luo gently raised his still-functioning hand and placed it on the shoulder of Chi You’s humanoid shadow.
“As a student, I should respect my teacher.”
Behind the thin mist, the hand Jiang Luo had placed on Chi You’s back suddenly opened, revealing a thick stack of yellow talismans.
The talismans fanned out like playing cards—at a glance, there were dozens of them. Jiang Luo smiled and said, “Tonight, I’ll only kill you once. But I’ll torture you for the entire night. Isn’t that the true spirit of respecting your teacher?”
Author’s Note:
Shou smiling: Feels good, doesn’t it?
P.S.: The seme-uke (top-bottom) relationship here is not a traditional teacher-student relationship. The top (Chi You) was a teaching assistant, and he’s no longer a teacher (because he’s, well, dead). Both characters are adults.
