Still, Jiang Luo couldn’t help but remain alert.
It was late, and the police kindly arranged a hotel for them to rest.
The moon hung in a sparse sky. Jiang Luo laid in bed, hands folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling as the landlady’s memories replayed in his mind.
Protect.
That was the one obsession strong enough to raise a mother from the dead and bring her back to her child’s side.
Such emotions were too unfamiliar to Jiang Luo. He had few friends, had never experienced this kind of familial love. Not that he thought he needed friends. He had little appreciation for the idea of family, either. Even though he got along well enough with his coworkers at the design institute, none of them really knew anything about his private life.
Living alone, dying alone—so long as he was full and no one else starved—that was Jiang Luo’s ideal way of life.
Slowly, he let go of the heavy emotions that didn’t belong to him and closed his eyes.
The night passed in peace.
The next morning, as they went down for breakfast, a young officer in his twenties waved them over to his table. “Steamed buns, fried dough sticks, spicy soup. Is that okay?”
Jiang Luo took the fried dough sticks, tore them into small pieces, and soaked them in the spicy soup. The officer said, “The owner of the 129 Hotel woke up. His mental state isn’t very stable right now.”
The police showed them a video. In it, the hotel owner laid on a hospital bed, clutching his son tightly, unable to let go. Tears streamed down his face as he muttered in panic over and over again, “Wife, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, my wife…”
His appearance frightened the child into loud sobs. The owner immediately hugged him tighter, gently stroking the soft hair on the boy’s head. After a while, tears silently ran down his cheeks.
Because of his business, the hotel owner had truly neglected his family. When he had money, he had no time for them. When he had no money, he was too irritable and impatient to spend time with them.
One day, he came up with a new marketing idea.
He planned to bring his elderly mother, whom he hadn’t seen in a long time, to the hotel and film some quirky videos of her to turn her into a viral internet personality. Nowadays, short videos featuring kids or the elderly tend to be well-received. If she became famous, maybe the hotel could rise again.
So, he brought his mother back to the hotel. Though they hadn’t lived together for a long time, they were still mother and son. As time went on, he began to feel something was off. But he didn’t think too deeply about it—his mind was preoccupied with business, and he didn’t believe anything serious would happen.
Yet it was precisely his negligence and dismissiveness that led to such a tragic outcome.
Jiang Luo watched as the black mist on the child’s arm gradually faded away in response to the owner’s crying. He swallowed the last bite of his fried dough stick, turned, and asked Ye Xun, “Did you see that?”
Ye Xun set down his steamed bun and replied blandly, “See what?”
“A cloud of black mist,” Jiang Luo said, “on the child’s left arm.”
Ye Xun frowned, carefully studied the child in the video, then shook his head. “I didn’t see anything.”
Jiang Luo fell into thought.
Even someone as powerful as Ye Xun couldn’t see the black mist. The original body hadn’t seen it either—why could he?
The only difference between him and the original Jiang Luo was the change in soul… and Chi You’s death.
Was it his soul that caused this change, or was it because Chi You was nearby that allowed Jiang Luo to see the mist?
Jiang Luo hoped it was the former.
After all, who wouldn’t want to be a genius?
After breakfast, the cheerful young police officer reached under the table and pulled out a backpack, handing it to them. “We’ve looked into the background of the headless ghost. It really hasn’t committed any evil acts. After consulting with it, it said it would like to return to your school and be raised there.”
The backpack was handed to Jiang Luo. He unzipped it and looked inside. A pale, bluish head peeked out and smiled shyly. “Greetings, young friend. I offer my respects.”
Jiang Luo tossed the bag to Lu Youyi with little interest. “You can have it.”
Lu Youyi hugged the headless ghost, puzzled. “Raise it? How? Bury it in dirt?”
The headless ghost burst into tears. “Just yesterday you called me Old Brother Ningxiu, and today you casually give me away… Truly, the more beautiful someone is, the better they know how to break my heart.”
Lu Youyi’s ears ached. He zipped the bag up quickly. “You’re so noisy.”
The young officer continued, “This morning we checked every toilet in the 129 Hotel. In each one, we found Mingbi hidden inside the flush tanks. We’ll look into the guest list and investigate who planted them—but you don’t need to worry about that.”
Ye Xun nodded. “The window on the hotel’s second floor had a window-sha—an evil feng shui formation. Tell him to place a ‘Pa Fu’ figurine from the Dragon Five Sons on the window. That’ll dispel it.”
The officer noted it all down with a bright smile. “Thanks for your hard work, students.”
After saying their goodbyes, the three of them slowly made their way back.
On the way to school, Lu Youyi and Ye Xun were both glued to their phones. Jiang Luo grew curious, leaned over, and snuck a peek out of the corner of his eye. They were chatting in a group chat.
The group was called “If something’s wrong, light incense.” It had eight members.
The more Jiang Luo looked, the more familiar it seemed. Suddenly, he realized—wasn’t this the class group chat that the original host had muted?
He opened his phone, found the chat, and clicked in. There were over 99 unread messages.
As he scrolled up, well… these people didn’t seem to care that Jiang Luo was still in the group. All the messages were gossip about him and Chi You.
[Zhuo Zhongqiu: When are you guys coming back? Until I see them myself, I refuse to believe what you’re saying about Jiang Luo and Chi You.]
[Ge Zhu: Strange, strange… I never noticed there was anything between those two.]
Lu Youyi typing away: [Of course there’s no fate now that Chi You’s dead. But Brother Chi You’s feelings were pretty obvious—it’s just that you all didn’t notice. I had a hunch all along, just never said it.]
[Ye Xun: You only ever said bad things about Jiang Luo.]
Lu Youyi’s heart skipped a beat. He cautiously looked up from his phone and glanced at Jiang Luo, only relaxing when he saw no change in Jiang Luo’s expression. He had said a lot of mean things about him before, and now he felt incredibly guilty, not daring to let Jiang Luo find out.
Because Lu Youyi had realized—Jiang Luo wasn’t at all how he had imagined.
Jiang Luo scrolled through the messages. Turns out Lu Youyi and Ye Xun had shared the whole story of his and Chi You’s mutual secret crush with the group.
The others were confused and skeptical, finding it hard to believe.
Chi You had long been infatuated with Jiang Luo? He even confessed?
Those private tutoring sessions were just an excuse to spend time alone with him?
Hahaha. Were Ye Xun and Lu Youyi possessed or something?
Compared to believing that Chi You and Jiang Luo had mutual feelings, the others were more inclined to think Lu Youyi and Ye Xun were just making stuff up.
[Zhuo Zhongqiu: Chi You, in love with Jiang Luo? No way.]
Lu Youyi replied wistfully: [Just think about Jiang Luo’s face.]
The group fell silent for a few seconds.
Then Lu Youyi added awkwardly: [Actually… Jiang Luo’s pretty great.]
[Ye Xun: Lu Youyi’s right.]
With their firm declarations, the group’s original attitude of “no way, ridiculous” began to shift toward “half-belief, half-doubt.” Jiang Luo glanced at Ye Xun and Lu Youyi with satisfaction—he knew he hadn’t chosen the wrong people.
It was easy to fool the two of them, but deceiving the rest of the class was much harder.
Whether it was the original body or the current Jiang Luo, he was always an outsider to this class. Under such circumstances, having Lu Youyi—who had always disliked Jiang Luo—and the aloof Ye Xun speak up made the story that “Chi You liked Jiang Luo” far more convincing.
Obviously, it was more effective than if Jiang Luo said it himself.
CPs (couples), after all, are about that subtle ambiguity—the sugar you imagine yourself always feels more real.
They were about to arrive at school. Lu Youyi shook his sore fingers and sent the final message:
[We’re almost at school. If you don’t believe it, ask Jiang Luo yourself. And even if you don’t believe Chi You would like Jiang Luo, you’ve got to at least trust Chi You’s taste, right?]
Jiang Luo: “…”
After transmigrating, he’d lost count of how many times he’d thanked this face of his.
Jiang Luo put away his phone and began to think about how to act next—how to show both Chi You’s affection for him and his own determination to reform from a heartless flirt.
Unlike Ye Xun and Lu Youyi, three of the five remaining classmates weren’t easy to handle.
One was Ge Zhu, a disciple of the Daoist sect; one was Zhuo Zhongqiu, the eldest daughter of the Zhuo family from the six major sects, known for cultivating both body and soul; and the last was Wenren Lian, who always wore a smiling expression that hid their true thoughts.
One relied on intuition, one on experience, and one on reading people’s hearts. None of them were easily fooled.
Ten minutes later, the three of them arrived at the school gate.
As soon as they got out of the car, they saw a handsome guy standing outside the school entrance.
He was wearing a casual short-sleeved shirt and shorts. His two long legs were fairer than a girl’s. With a baseball cap on, he was leaning against the wall, surrounded by a group of girls.
Lu Youyi clicked his tongue at the sight: “They actually came to pick us up? These people are way too nosy.”
Jiang Luo squinted to see who it was, but before he could get a clear look, the handsome guy spotted them and broke away from the group of girls. He walked straight up to them and greeted them smoothly, “Why’d you bring back some ghostly thing?”
His voice was raspy and androgynous, soaked in the texture of smoke and liquor.
He was looking at the backpack behind Lu Youyi. Inside it was the severed head of a ghost. Even though the ghost hadn’t made any move yet, this person had already sensed its presence.
Ye Xun and Lu Youyi weren’t surprised. Ye Xun said with mild annoyance, “It’s been clinging to Jiang Luo.”
The handsome person looked at Jiang Luo. He was slightly shorter than Jiang Luo, so he tilted his head up a little, revealing a face beneath the cap that was sharp yet still retained some feminine features.
With piercing, deep-set eyes and androgynous features, the shape of the face held a trace of a woman’s softness and elegance. It was only now that Jiang Luo realized this “handsome guy” was actually a woman.
Zhuo Zhongqiu’s gaze swept over Jiang Luo as if it had substance. She suddenly whistled. “Chi You’s taste isn’t bad.”
The group of girls behind her timidly caught up but stopped two meters away, blushing faintly. “Senior Sister…”
Zhuo Zhongqiu turned around helplessly and pointed at Jiang Luo. “Girls, your senior sister likes this type of look.” She paused and laughed, “Preferably with a big chest—since your senior sister’s flat-chested, after all.”
The girls blushed furiously and scattered.
Lu Youyi: “…I’m so jealous.”
Ye Xun silently nodded.
Zhuo Zhongqiu was very curious about Jiang Luo. On the way back, she asked him many questions. “So Chi You’s death wasn’t an accident after all?”
She crossed her arms, rubbed her chin, and suddenly chuckled. “Interesting.”
Jiang Luo also found it interesting, but he couldn’t show it. He just smiled—then, noticing a couple cuddling on a bench by the path, had a sudden idea and came to a stop, seemingly in a daze.
Zhuo Zhongqiu followed his gaze and instantly understood. “You two used to come here on dates?”
The pretty young man with black hair smiled faintly. “Not exactly dates.”
Chi You had indeed brought the original Jiang Luo here before—but it had been to humiliate him in front of ordinary students.
Jiang Luo looked at the flowerbeds with soft eyes. He liked plants. After completing basic design classes in his sophomore year, he leaned toward landscape design for that very reason. With the arrogance and pride stripped away, this gentle expression made him look like a gem freshly polished by silk cloth—radiant and refined.
His eyes were full of affection, his smile as if touched by wind and dew—ethereal and fairy-like, but with a faint trace of seductive charm hidden in his bones, a contradictory allure.
Even Zhuo Zhongqiu couldn’t help glancing at him a few more times, thinking that love really could transform a person. Even a player like Jiang Luo was now reformed. But a reformed scoundrel is priceless, and Zhuo Zhongqiu wasn’t one to judge by stereotypes.
She took his displayed tenderness as mourning for Chi You, then glanced at Jiang Luo’s neck and asked tentatively, “Lu Youyi said Chi You appeared last night?”
The black-haired youth’s neck was wrapped in two layers of gauze by the medical staff, giving him a slightly ascetic look. He raised his hand to touch it, recalling his last meeting with Chi You, and his smile only widened. “Yeah, he came to see me.”
A ghost who had tried to strangle him to death—and Jiang Luo could still smile about it. Zhuo Zhongqiu was now completely convinced he truly loved Chi You.
Zhuo Zhongqiu rubbed her temples, headache creeping in. “Seriously? You can still smile about it? He came to take your life, you know.”
Jiang Luo made a “not listening, not listening” face and stubbornly said, “Chi You wouldn’t hurt me. He just missed me, that’s all.”
Zhuo Zhongqiu: “…”
Exactly like those love-struck fools who get totally swept up in romance.
Lu Youyi couldn’t bear to watch any longer. He hesitated, then said, “But your neck…”
Jiang Luo showed a sweet smile and said softly, “He must have been too excited. I know he didn’t mean it.”
Zhuo Zhongqiu sidled up to Ye Xun and quietly pointed at her head, whispering, “Did he get brainwashed by Chi You or something?”
Ye Xun sighed. “He really likes Chi You, and he feels guilty toward him. I’m afraid that if Chi You truly asked him to die, he’d go without a second thought.”
“That won’t do,” Zhuo Zhongqiu immediately decided. “We absolutely can’t let Chi You kill Jiang Luo.”
Even if it’s for Chi You’s sake, they couldn’t just stand by and watch him do something like that.
This couldn’t be Chi You’s true intention. He had already become a ghost. The thought of killing a lover and keeping them by his side had likely turned into a lingering obsession. They had to stop Chi You—otherwise, once he regained clarity and remembered what he had done, he would fall into a pit of regret and torment.
Zhuo Zhongqiu and Ye Xun exchanged a look and nodded in silent agreement.
The old campus of Baihua University was located in the city center, where every inch of land was precious. So, the old campus wasn’t large. The College of Natural Sciences and Social Research sat at the very back. Jiang Luo followed them through turns and twists, unsure how many they took, when suddenly a brand-new path appeared in a previously unnoticed, secluded corner.
A thought rose in Jiang Luo’s mind: Formation.
Beyond the path, the scenery opened up. A tall teaching building stood beside a crescent-shaped clear lake, forming a classic feng shui layout of “a jade belt encircling the waist.”
Every flower, tree, and shrub was placed just right. At a glance, Jiang Luo could see faint golden mist lingering in the air above—a sign of auspicious qi unique to feng shui-blessed land.
Looking closer, he could see the convergence of heavenly energy, earth’s essence, sun and moon, mountains and rivers, and flora—all gathering around the water’s edge, subtly forming a dragon vein. This was an auspicious site of the highest order. Whoever designed this academy must have been an extraordinary feng shui master.
In awe, Jiang Luo made his way to the classroom. Inside, the students were already peeking out the window, watching them approach.
Ge Zhu, hair tied up in a Daoist bun and wearing a loose robe, sat with his hands folded, smiling peacefully as he watched the three approach. His demeanor was calm, and his eyes clear and bright, giving off a detached and carefree air. “Look, they’re back.”
Across from him sat a large, burly man, who responded with a grunt. After staring outside for a while, he suddenly said, “The doll in Ye Xun’s hand was used.”
Ge Zhu’s eyes widened. “Just a commission from a bed and breakfast, and you used a wraith doll?”
The mountain-like Kuang Zheng grunted again. He was a tool refiner, and had a deep spiritual connection with his creations. “Don’t worry. It was only used briefly.”
Ge Zhu wiped the sweat from his brow. “Scared the Daoist half to death. I thought Little Pink had eaten something weird again.”
As they spoke, the four outside entered the room. Ge Zhu beamed with sunshine and waved warmly. “Welcome back.”
Kuang Zheng stood up. Though he was a large man, he appeared especially awkward and silent as he pulled out chairs for everyone.
Jiang Luo glanced sideways at the two of them. The friendly Daoist was Ge Zhu, and the dark-skinned, construction-worker-looking one was the refiner, Kuang Zheng.
Kuang Zheng was no ordinary person. Talents in the metaphysical world were increasingly rare, and refiners even more so. Yet Kuang Zheng had incredible aptitude in tool refining. What’s more, he was simple-minded and focused, allowing his skills to advance rapidly.
Ge Zhu and Kuang Zheng were also watching him. Jiang Luo sat by the window, resting his chin on his hand, and gave them a slight smile.
Ge Zhu returned the smile, but then fixed his eyes on Jiang Luo.
A person is supported by their skeletal frame, just like a house. The features are like the windows of that house. So, in physiognomy, the first thing to look at is bone structure and facial features.
Bone structure requires touch, but facial features can be read by sight. A person’s features gather qi, and the internal organs all connect to the face. Having studied physiognomy for years, Ge Zhu could usually read a person’s fortune and fate with a single glance. But when he looked at Jiang Luo, all he saw was a thick, impenetrable mist!
Startled, Ge Zhu stood up with a jolt and stammered, “Th-this…”
Jiang Luo casually twirled a strand of black hair around his finger, looking interested. “Hm?”
Ge Zhu quickly stepped over and solemnly extended his hand. “Classmate Jiang Luo, may this humble Daoist read your palm?”
Jiang Luo smilingly offered his left hand. “Please.”
As Ge Zhu took his hand—
It was smooth and delicate to the touch, soft like moss. The fingers were long, indicating intelligence and beauty, and bore the signs of wealth and nobility. These were just the basics. Ge Zhu wanted to look closer, but the chaotic palm lines made his head spin. His eyes went wide like saucers, but he still couldn’t decipher a thing.
The room was silent, as everyone was afraid to interrupt. After a while, Ge Zhu, sweating profusely, let go of Jiang Luo’s hand and staggered back to his seat. He cradled his thermos and gave a weak, hollow laugh.
“No worries, no worries. In life, one must understand that there’s always someone greater. A person’s fate isn’t so easily unraveled. Only with effort can one grow. Don’t be disturbed by emotions, don’t be trapped by love. Endure the cold, and peace will come. After all, a life that can be seen through at a glance… is one too tragic to bear.”
A voice laughed from outside. “Ge Zhu, what kind of chicken soup are you stewing this time?”
Before the voice finished, the back door opened and two people walked in. The speaker was a woman in a red dress, with flowing hair and smiling eyes. A beige shawl hung over her shoulders, and she gracefully walked in on high heels.
“She” was tall—very tall—even taller than the blond foreign boy behind her. This visually stunning, elegant beauty was the famously mysterious Wenren Lian.
A man with a penchant for cross-dressing.
The foreign boy behind Wenren Lian scratched his head awkwardly and said clumsily, with a foreign accent, “Sorry, we’re late.”
Ge Zhu sighed, “Wen Ren, you’re here.”
Wenren Lian pulled his shawl closer and sat down opposite Jiang Luo with a smile. His eyes, narrowed to slits, were framed by thick eyelashes, making one wonder if he could even see properly.
“Ge Zhu, did you see anything?”
“Nothing at all,” Ge Zhu answered honestly. “Wanna give it a try yourself?”
Ge Zhu specialized in physiognomy; Wenren Lian specialized in divination.
Hearing this, Wenren Lian still smiled and declined, “If even you can’t see anything, I won’t humiliate myself. Compared to these mysterious arts, I’m more interested in asking Jiang Luo a few questions.”
He mimicked Jiang Luo’s pose, resting his cheek in his hand. His silky wig draped over his chest. With curiosity, Wenren Lian asked, “Jiang Luo, did you and Chi You ever sleep together?” —
Author’s Note:
Chi You: Does being a ghost pressing on someone’s bed count?
