Chapter Thirty-Five: On the Brink of Danger

At the very moment Wang Ying pressed the spirit talisman onto the crown of the village chief’s wife’s head, the woman instantly froze, unmoving, as a distorted shadow twisted and separated itself from her body. With the departure of the shadow, the village chief’s wife slowly collapsed to the ground.

There was no doubt that the shadow was the ghost of the village chief’s younger brother, the very same malevolent spirit. The power of the talisman spread from the crown of her head throughout her entire body, forcing the spirit out.

I watched closely, ignoring the pain that still racked my body and my worry for Wang Ying. Without hesitation, I seized the three-foot Dragon Abyss Sword at my side and rushed straight at the shadow. Though it appeared to be a lightweight wooden sword, as soon as its blade fell, the shadow was instantly cleaved in two. It shrank with a bloodcurdling wail, growing smaller and smaller until it vanished completely.

Seeing the evil spirit finally dissipate into nothingness, the weight on my heart was at last lifted.

The scene was wretched; apart from a few young policemen, everyone was injured, including Wei Qiyang’s two little ghosts. But my greatest concern was Wang Ying. Not caring about anyone else, I lifted her from the ground and ran home with her in my arms.

Wang Ying curled up against my chest, her eyes dull and lifeless, blood staining the corner of her mouth. “Honey, are you… are you alright?”

“I’m fine, of course I’m fine. How do you feel?” I cradled her body, limp and weak, in my arms. Seeing her so utterly exhausted, I knew she must be suffering terribly. “Why were you so reckless, bursting through two spirit talismans to come out?”

Wang Ying gave a faint smile, and with her smile, another stream of blood, thick as an earthworm, crept down her lips. “Husband, I can die, but you can’t. If you die, I must die too. I exist only because of your blood.” Wang Ying wrapped her arms around my neck, and I could feel she barely had the strength to speak.

“How do you feel?” After all, Wang Ying was not human—she was a corpse-ghost, a soul residing in a corpse. I truly feared she would not endure.

“Honey, I should be alright. Lay me down in bed to rest for a while. Please, go back out and check on everyone else?” Her voice was barely audible, and I knew she was gravely wounded. Even in such a state, she wanted me to check on the villagers, which showed she must have been a kind-hearted girl in life.

I wanted to stay with her, but couldn’t stop worrying about Wei Qi. Since Wang Ying insisted, I tidied the bed for her, helped her lie down, and went back outside.

The street was filled with groans and cries. Wei Qi sat there, sighing over one of his little ghosts—one injured, one dispersed, nothing left. Seeing his sorrow, I felt it keenly. For a Yinyang master, raising a little ghost is no simple matter; it’s not like keeping a pet, sometimes they’re dearer than children. Wei Qi was alone in Wei Family Village; though it seemed he was surrounded by villagers, he was in truth a solitary soul. In those long, lonely days, perhaps only those two ugly little ghosts could truly keep him company.

“Uncle Seven, how are you?” I squatted down, looking at him and his little ghost.

“Da Chuan, you’re just in time. A’Li has been dispersed, only A’Ling is left. She’s very weak now, and my blood isn't pure enough. Can you lend me some blood?” Wei Qi asked sincerely.

He was still being polite at a time like this! I quickly bit open my finger and unhesitatingly placed it into A’Ling’s mouth. Though she was ugly, the little ghost was gentle and grateful, sucking on my finger as she gazed at me with thankful eyes. In that moment, I suddenly felt a sense of greatness, as if there was a natural bond between me and these ghosts. If Wang Ying had given me love, then these ghosts surely gave me friendship. At that instant, I resolved that as long as a ghost was kind and needed my blood, I would give it.

Seeing A’Ling drink my blood, Wei Qi’s expression relaxed a little. He patted my shoulder, signaling for me to keep feeding his little ghost, while he went to help the village chief’s wife and the others.

“Stop crying and call for an ambulance!” Wei Qi shouted at the village chief and his daughter, who were still weeping over the chief’s wife.

His words spurred everyone into action, and someone immediately dialed for emergency services. Just then, A’Ling, having drunk her fill, looked much better. Wei Qi came over and placed her back into the soul urn.

“Da Chuan, how is Wang Ying?” Seeing that everyone was mostly alright except for the chief’s wife, Wei Qi finally slung an arm around my shoulder and asked.

I shook my head, unable to describe what I felt.

“Go check on Wang Ying. Things are settled here for now, but I don’t think Third Aunt will make it,” Wei Qi said, taking my hand and leading me home.

In the dim light, Wang Ying lay slumped on the bed, motionless. Seeing her like that, panic gripped me—nothing must happen to her!

“Sister-in-law! Wake up!” Wei Qi called softly from beside the bed.

“Uncle Seven, I’m alright. Thank you,” Wang Ying murmured, opening her eyes.

“Are you really alright?” I don’t know why, but seeing her like this, I felt like crying.

“I’m really fine. Is everything outside taken care of?”

I nodded. “Their injuries aren’t serious. Don’t worry.”

Wei Qi pulled me aside. “Da Chuan, don’t worry about things outside. Stay here and look after Wang Ying.” He patted my shoulder and left.

I sat by the bed, holding Wang Ying’s small, icy hand. Suddenly recalling how A’Ling had perked up after drinking my blood, I pinched my finger, washed away the old blood, and gently placed it in her mouth.

Wang Ying’s lips moved and she took my finger, but I didn’t feel the usual strength with which she sucked on it. Her face was slack, lacking the former greed.

“Husband, I think I tore a patch of skin on my back. Will you stitch it for me?” Wang Ying released my finger, not having had the strength to drink.

A chill settled in my heart. I gently pulled her dress down from behind. The wound I’d once stitched for her had long since healed, but now, beneath her shoulder blades, along her spine, was a gash nearly eight inches long. The sight of that pale wound twisted my heart with pain, and tears ran down my cheeks.

“Husband, don’t be like this. I’m not human—I don’t feel pain. Men shouldn’t cry like this!” Wang Ying tried to reach up and wipe my tears, but her hand fell back halfway, spent. I hurriedly caught her hand; she was too weak.

“No strength left. Stop crying—be a man!” Wang Ying said, casting me a tired glance, her eyes full of fatigue.

Holding back my sorrow, I awkwardly stitched up her back. Though my hands were clumsy, I wasn’t too worried, because I remembered that last time, when I applied my blood to her stitched-up back, the wound healed quickly.

But this time was different. After I finished stitching and gently smoothed my blood over her wound, nothing changed, even after a long while. The wound remained as before.

A sense of foreboding crept into my heart as I looked at the gash and the blood smeared across it.

“Husband, it’s late. Get some rest. Trust me, after a night’s sleep, I’ll be fine,” Wang Ying said with a gentle smile.

“Alright, let’s sleep.” I picked up a blanket, intending to sleep on the sofa, but Wang Ying stopped me.

“Husband, don’t go. Stay with me. I feel a little cold.”

Since I’d known Wang Ying, she’d never once said she felt cold. Hearing those words, my already gloomy mood grew even darker.

Lying in bed, I held Wang Ying in my arms. Her lovely eyes fluttered closed.

“Husband, if I were alive, would you have married me?” As I gazed at her face, she suddenly opened her eyes and looked at me.

My heart trembled. I had seen Wang Ying’s true body—she was a rare beauty. I was not handsome, nor did I have a good family or job; I was scarcely better off than Wei Qi. Other than having a mother and a second uncle, I was inferior to him in every way. With my circumstances and profession, no ordinary girl would ever fall for me.

I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. “Wife, as long as you love me, it doesn’t matter if you’re a person or a ghost—I would marry you. Aren’t we already husband and wife?” My words were tinged with sorrow.

Wang Ying gazed at me, her expression warm and tender, making me almost believe she was alive and not a ghost dwelling in a corpse.

We talked like that, our hands tightly clasped, one cold, one warm, but with no sense of distance.

Unknowingly, I drifted off to sleep. When I awoke with a start, the sky outside was already grey with dawn. Fortunately, Wang Ying was still lying by my side. Seeing her there eased my heart, and I gently held her shoulder. “Wife, are you feeling any better?”

Wang Ying didn’t move and, of course, didn’t answer.

My heart lurched. I quickly sat up. “Wife, are you… are you alright?”

She lay there, utterly still, giving no response.