Chapter Twenty: Skin and Bones

“Honey, what’s wrong? Am I not good enough being by your side like this? Are you excited, or unhappy?” Wang Ying took my hand and made me sit on the bed, her fingers stroking my face as she spoke. Her hand was icy cold, and when it touched my cheek, I couldn’t describe how I felt.

We had been together for a few days, and now she was calling me “husband.” It seemed she was truly determined to be with me like this.

“Darling, isn’t it better in the Soul Jar? It’s safe and warm—you can come and go as you please. Why do you insist on possessing this female corpse? Look at her, she’s so ugly. She can’t compare to your beauty,” I tried to flatter her.

Wang Ying ran her hand over the body that didn’t belong to her, tugged her clothes down a bit, revealing part of her pale chest. “Dearest, don’t say that. I never had such a figure. Don’t all men prefer larger ones?”

To tell the truth, this corpse did have a large bosom, but I never liked that sort of thing—who knows why. Besides, this was a dead body; I felt nothing but a chill seeing it.

I shook my head instinctively, at a loss for words. If this corpse was going to live with me like this, I might as well be dead.

Wang Ying didn’t care about my feelings at all. She climbed onto the bed barefoot and even took off her outer clothes. If you didn’t know better, this corpse would really be tempting—the large breasts, pale skin, a black tight-fitting three-piece suit… I quickly turned my head away, unwilling to be seduced.

“Husband, do you like it? If you do, come here. Tonight, let’s sleep together.” Wang Ying pulled a sheet over her body, leaving only her pale face visible as she looked at me. Yet I noticed something: when the husband of Shang Xiaoyun possessed this corpse at her home, her eyes were dull and lifeless. Now, though, they were lively, darting about like a living person’s.

“Honey, let’s forget it. I’m tired. If you insist, do as you wish.” This was just a stalling tactic. Once this ghost was settled, I’d go and find Wei Qi to discuss things. There was no way I could let this female ghost possess the corpse and stick to me every day—that would be utter misery.

But Wang Ying got up from the bed, walked barefoot to the sofa, crouched before me, and stroked my face with both hands, grinning foolishly. Her red lips and white teeth reminded me of that pitiful husky at Shang Xiaoyun’s house. What was this ghost up to?

“Honey, what… what are you doing?” I hurriedly brushed her hands away, worried she might tear me apart like that husky.

“Nothing, just checking if you’re someone ungrateful,” Wang Ying grinned, looking terrifying.

“What do you mean?”

“I saved you tonight, didn’t I?”

“Yes! I’m more grateful than words can say!” That was the truth—without her, I’d have been finished.

“That’s good. Shouldn’t you thank me?”

“Of course. Tell me, what do you want to eat? I’ll buy it for you. What do you want to play with? I’ll find it for you.” I had to keep my word—Wang Ying had helped me, after all.

“Alright then, lend me some blood. Did you see? Your friend hit me with a stick earlier, and my body’s all deformed,” Wang Ying said, touching the back of her head, which was indeed a bit misshapen.

“My blood will do?” I shrank back, startled. Using my blood to repair her body—this was like painting skin! If she were just a ghost, drinking a little of my blood wouldn’t scare me so much, but for a corpse to do it… I couldn’t help thinking of that husky again.

Wang Ying paced the small room, fondling her borrowed body. “Of course it works. If it didn’t, I wouldn’t ask you. Your blood is pure yin—perfect to heal my injured body and even enhance my beauty.”

Her words left me dumbfounded. Relying on human blood for beauty—what kind of existence was this? Even ten people like me wouldn’t be enough for this ghost’s demands. Trembling, I got to my feet.

Wang Ying snapped out of her reverie and seized my hand again. “Don’t worry, husband, I won’t drain you dry. I’ll just take a bit—200cc each time, like a blood donation. How about it?” She held onto my hand as she spoke.

“No, let’s talk this over, alright?” With her sinister expression, I was shaking all over.

“Silly, I’m your wife. What’s the harm in drinking a little of your blood?” Wang Ying pouted, holding my hand.

“Honey, why do you insist on this body? It’s not beautiful at all—nothing like you.” I said this hoping she’d give up on drinking my blood and possessing the corpse. If she stayed in the Soul Jar, at least I wouldn’t see her often. If she possessed the corpse and hung around me every day, how could I live?

“Wang Dachuan, what do you mean? I’ll ask you once more—will you give it or not? If not, I’ll take it anyway.” Wang Ying was angry, flinging my hand away.

Her words frightened me. From the start, she’d been threatening me—using my second uncle, my mother, and even my entire village against me. Honestly, I cared for my family; I didn’t mind suffering myself, but if I angered this ghost and she harmed my loved ones, what then?

“Fine. Since we’re married and you’re my wife, what’s a little blood? Even if you wanted my life, I’d give it.” Knowing resistance was futile, I decided to curry favor with her and offered my hand.

Wang Ying stepped forward, giving me a sidelong glance. “Listen to you, acting so wronged. I don’t drink just anyone’s blood. Besides, if your blood makes me stronger, I’ll have to protect you, won’t I? Like tonight—if not for your blood, how could I have forced that ghost out of the body?” Her words made sense. I’d wondered how she, a mere woman, managed to separate ghost from corpse—so it was my blood at work. I realized I needed to reevaluate myself.

Thinking of how she’d saved me, I no longer felt any resentment. The two of us had been bound by a tangle of grievances from the start—if she wanted to drink, let her. We were husband and wife, after all, even if only in name.

Wang Ying grasped my hand and looked at me again, her eyes searching, as if waiting for my final consent. I nodded. “Go ahead.”

She grinned, then took my finger in her mouth. A sharp pain shot through me, and I felt as if my body were being emptied. This time was different from before—not only was the pain more intense, but I could clearly feel I’d lost much more blood.

I held on, while Wang Ying’s body trembled slightly. As she knelt before me, I saw the depression at the back of her head slowly fill out, her hair, once dry as straw, gradually regained its luster. Even her deathly pale skin began to glow with health.

How could this be? Did my blood really have such properties?

As I wondered, the corpse possessed by Wang Ying slowly raised her head, wiped blood from the corner of her mouth, and smiled. “Thank you, husband.”

I was stunned. The corpse’s eyes were more lively, her cheeks flushed pink, her hair glossy and smooth, even her eyelashes had grown longer. What was happening—was this resurrection?

“Honey, what are you doing, staring at me like that?” Wang Ying laughed, patting my shoulder. Her icy hand snapped me back to reality. She was still a possessing ghost, not a living person—her hand was as cold as ever.

“Nothing… Are you done?” I’d made up my mind; no matter what, I wouldn’t spend the night here. Before, the ghost slept in the Soul Jar, but now she had a body and was occupying my bed. I didn’t want to share a bed with a cold corpse.

“I’ve had enough—it was delicious. Thank you, husband.” Wang Ying beamed as she hugged my arm, her ample chest pressing against me. Though soft and full, it was so cold it sobered me instantly—reminding me she was a ghost, a corpse, not a woman.

“Husband, thank you for your blood. Tonight, I’ll reward you. Come rest; I’ll give you a massage.” Wang Ying stood up, twisting her slender waist. Her voluptuous figure swayed, and her chest jiggled with the motion.

I quickly waved my hands. “No need, no need. You go ahead and sleep. I’ll go out for a walk.” There was no way I’d stay here now. With the ghost possessing a body, what if she wanted to do that in the middle of the night? I may be a man, but I still wanted to save my first time for someone I truly loved—I didn’t want to lose it so carelessly.

“Alright, since you’re good to me, I can’t let you down. I can’t drink your blood for nothing. I’ll walk with you,” Wang Ying said, hugging my arm.

I dared not take her out—there were other guests in the hotel, and Wei Qi and his friends would laugh me to death. “No, you rest. I’ll be back soon.”

Seeing this, Wang Ying didn’t insist. She jumped onto the bed. “Go ahead, husband. I’ll warm the bed for you. Remember, now that I have a body, I’m just like a real person—I can come and go as I please.” With that, she pulled up the sheet and slowly closed her eyes, just like a woman drifting off to sleep.

At last, I’d calmed her down and hurried out, soaked in sweat. Dealing with a female ghost was no easy task.

After steadying myself in the hallway, I knocked on Wei Qi’s door. He opened, yawning and covering his mouth. “What’s up?” he asked. I replied, “Of course there’s something—why else would I knock on your door in the middle of the night?” After I explained everything, his sleepy eyes suddenly widened. “What did you say? Your uncle married you off to a ghost bride, and tonight she saved us? Now she’s possessed that female corpse?”

I nodded.

Wei Qi sat cross-legged on the bed. “Dachuan, I was just wondering why your uncle didn’t bring you along himself, but sent you to me instead. Now I get it—you married a ghost bride. Do you know how rare that is? Among the living who’ve married ghost brides, there are only three: Liang Buting from Pingyi, Du Zhengsheng from Heilongjiang, and Wang Yilong from Beijing. They’re all great masters of yin and yang. I never thought, at your age, you’d have a ghost wife. Don’t think everyone can do it—look at me; no matter my skills, I couldn’t. My body’s too weak. If I married a ghost, in less than half a year I’d be skin and bones.”

“What? Marrying a ghost means sharing a bed, and it really makes you waste away?” I asked, bewildered.