Chapter Nineteen: Borrowing the Corpse to Return the Soul

Although I heard Wang Ying’s voice, I didn’t see her anywhere. I remembered that earlier today, when I left, this female ghost was wounded and had hidden herself inside the soul urn to recuperate. Now she had emerged unexpectedly. Regardless, her timing was impeccable. But I hadn’t brought the soul urn with me—how could she possibly know where I was?

It seemed ghosts truly were different from people.

The corpse possessed by the ghost suddenly halted, her nostrils flaring as she sniffed the air, her hollow gaze darting about. Clearly, she hadn’t expected another ghost to intervene at such a moment.

“Stop searching—I’m right here.”

Before the echo of that voice faded, the corpse possessed by the ghost was struck with a loud crash and sent flying. As the body crashed to the ground, a white, indistinct figure floated out from it. Though its form was blurred, I could make out the outline of a man around forty years old—bald and portly. The white apparition wavered unsteadily and rushed straight toward me.

But another figure moved faster. With a swift motion, Wei Qi darted to my side, snatched the three-foot Dragon Abyss sword from my hand, and lunged at the white figure.

A shrill wail echoed through the air. The apparition writhed briefly, then began to shrink. Wei Qi quickly returned the sword to me, took out a soul urn from his belt, removed the lid, and chanted under his breath. The white figure dwindled further, its cries growing more desperate, and then slipped into the urn.

It had been Wei Qi who acted so quickly when the apparition lunged at me.

“Da Chuan, who just helped us?” Wei Qi asked while sealing the soul urn.

I instinctively glanced around, seeing no sign of Wang Ying. I quickly replied, “Someone helped us?” I didn’t want Wei Qi knowing I had a ghost bride. For a living man to marry a ghost—how embarrassing!

Wei Qi punched me lightly on the shoulder. “Don’t play dumb. No wonder you insisted on coming out to catch ghosts—you really know your stuff! So young and you’ve already raised a ghost child-servant.” His admiring gaze made me feel oddly proud.

Ghost child-servant—my second uncle had told me about them. Yin-Yang sorcerers, to strengthen their magic, would raise little ghosts as servants, called ghost child-servants. The reason some sorcerers seemed to fly, my uncle said, was actually because these child-servants carried them through the air. He’d once mentioned a sorcerer from Sichuan who had raised twelve ghost child-servants and supposedly never needed to wash his clothes. I’d only heard tales, never seen it myself.

But a ghost bride and a ghost child-servant were two different things. The latter served its master; with my ghost bride, I was the one serving her. She only agreed to marry me because she needed my blood. Still, Wang Ying had helped me tonight—if not for her decisive blow, Shan Xiaoyun’s husband’s soul would never have separated from his corpse, nor would Wei Qi have succeeded so easily. Whatever the reason, I owed her my thanks.

Yet I couldn’t help but wonder—Wang Ying was truly powerful, managing to sever the soul from Shan Xiaoyun’s husband’s corpse in a single strike, despite being just a frail woman herself.

With Shan Xiaoyun’s husband’s soul contained, the situation became manageable. In front of everyone, Wei Qi drove a silver needle into Shan Xiaoyun’s abdomen, then pressed a talisman atop the needle. Moments later, black blood oozed from her pale stomach, with a faint trace of gas escaping. After about ten minutes, her abdomen was restored to normal. Wei Qi left her with some talisman water and decided it was time for us to leave.

But as we stepped outside, something bizarre occurred—the corpse that had collapsed on the ground was nowhere to be found. We searched the courtyard thoroughly but found no trace.

We didn’t leave alone; instead, we escorted Shan Xiaoyun to the hospital. I’d thought her home would be safe now, but with the missing corpse, it was clear it was not. Though Wei Qi had dealt with her husband’s soul, the vanished corpse remained a troubling mystery.

We left her to rest and recover in the hospital, then returned to the hotel. On the way, Wei Qi frowned deeply, clearly preoccupied. Though I hadn’t known him long, I’d never seen him so grave—it felt as if something momentous was about to happen.

At the hotel, Wei Qi told everyone to rest well, as we’d be returning to Wei Family Garden Village at dawn. I understood his intentions; he wanted to see if the female corpse had returned. For me, whether it had or not was equally unsettling. If it had, that meant the corpse had wandered about before coming home—how terrifying, a corpse that could move on its own. If not, then it was still out there, a lurking threat to the living.

For now, there was nothing to be done. We’d wait until morning.

Once in my room, I hurriedly locked the door and turned on the light. There was no sign of Wang Ying. For some reason, I was worried about her. After all, she had helped me. For her, a lone girl, to separate Shan Xiaoyun’s husband’s soul from his body must have taken a lot of effort, especially since I knew she’d been hurt earlier by my yang energy.

“Wang Ying… Wang Ying… wife…” I retrieved the soul urn, removed the seal, and called out. It was empty.

Seeing the urn was now vacant, my heart trembled. Had something happened to her?

Cough, cough.

Just as worry overwhelmed me, I heard a crisp cough from the bathroom—it was Wang Ying’s voice. I dashed inside. “Wife, you’re in here? You scared me to death!” As I opened the door, something white flew out and slapped wetly against my face, carrying a pungent odor.

I grabbed it—it was a sanitary pad. Damn, was this female ghost defying the heavens? She’d started using sanitary pads! But ghosts are, by definition, intangible—what use could she have for this?

I tossed the pad aside, only to witness an even stranger sight.

Seated on the toilet was a woman—the very corpse once possessed by Shan Xiaoyun’s husband’s ghost, the one I’d applied makeup to. “You… what are you doing here?” I stammered, startled by her presence.

“Oh, don’t look so scared. I was just curious and borrowed this body for a bit, that’s all.” The corpse rose gracefully. From her tone, I understood—Wang Ying had possessed her. Now, she was a corpse-possessing ghost.

“Not sure how I feel about this,” I muttered, staring at the corpse that had once ripped a husky in half. She felt like a stranger.

“Really? Doesn’t it look good? I thought it was attractive, which is why I borrowed it,” Wang Ying said, turning around. If this were a living woman, her figure would be quite impressive—though not as slender as Wang Ying’s real body, she was well-proportioned, with a generous chest and full hips—a classic mature type.

Some prefer voluptuous and mature women. I’m different—I like pure, delicate types. No need for a bombshell figure, just someone sweet and charming. Still, the way Wang Ying moved and spoke now was exactly my type.

“Wife, thank you for tonight. Without you, we’d all have been in real trouble.” My gratitude was sincere, but her response made me laugh and sigh.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I saved you for my own sake. If I didn’t need your blood to survive, I wouldn’t bother.” This ghost bride was anything but sweet—her words were always so sharp. She couldn’t even muster a polite lie.

I quickly accepted it. She might be my wife in name, but she was still a ghost, not a person. No point in taking her words to heart.

But then, Wang Ying’s demeanor shifted suddenly. She flashed a seductive smile, walked over, and gripped my hand. “Da Chuan, do you like me?”

Though I knew it was Wang Ying, the face before me felt utterly unfamiliar. What was this ghost up to now? Was she planning to tease me again? Remembering what she’d done back at Wei Qi’s house, I felt a chill. Forcing a wry smile, I replied, “Of course I like you—you’re my wife, aren’t you?” Her hand was icy cold, keeping my senses sharp.

“That’s more like it. Go tell Wei Qi that I’m taking this corpse. I want to be human for a few days, to use her as my body.” Wang Ying kneaded the back of her head as she spoke—her skull had been deformed by a blow from Wei Qi.

“What do you mean?” I asked, bewildered.

“What else? I’m going to possess this corpse. I want to experience what it’s like to be human. We’re married, aren’t we? From today on, I’ll use this body to live with you.” She grinned mischievously, rubbing herself against me.

A chill ran down my spine. It was already hard enough having a ghost bride—if I had to live with a walking corpse as well, how could I go on? And what if she insisted on consummating our marriage? At that thought, cold sweat poured down my face.