Chapter Twenty-Three: Living Among Ghosts

Wei Qi was stunned as well, gazing at the thick stack of hundred-yuan bills in Wang Ying’s hand. After a long moment, he finally asked, “Girl, where did you get so much money?”

Wang Ying shoved the money into Wei Qi’s hands. “Seventh Uncle, it’s only money! Just spend it, and when it’s gone, come back to me for more. I should thank you for finding me such a good body!”

Wei Qi clutched the cash and dragged me outside, heading toward the village’s small shop. “Da Chuan, you’re rich now. Your wife can make money!”

Watching Wei Qi’s gleeful expression, I felt uneasy. I’d already noticed that the bedding on the bed was all new, and suspected that when I went to Wei Qi’s house earlier, Wang Ying had slipped out to steal from someone. As a female ghost, she feared nothing; it wouldn’t be impossible for her to sneak into nearby villagers’ homes and take their things. When I mentioned this to Wei Qi, he laughed, saying that everything was fate, all part of destiny, and that I shouldn’t worry. If you’ve got money, spend it; if you’ve got fortune, enjoy it.

I couldn’t say much more. Wei Qi bought some groceries and two bottles of the best Fulai Spring spirit from the shop, then came straight to the house where Wang Ying and I were temporarily staying—his uncle’s place.

Wei Qi and I drank in the main room, while Wang Ying, the female ghost, was washing my clothes in the yard. This shocked me, and I hurried to stop her. “Wife, I’ll wash my own clothes, you don’t need to.”

Wang Ying smiled mischievously and whispered, “You’re my husband. If you treat me well, I’ll treat you well. From now on, I’ll live like a human, and I’ll need a lot of your blood, so I want to be a good wife.” She smiled sweetly, and in the dim light, she seemed almost real, making me feel all kinds of illusions.

I returned to the main room and continued drinking with Wei Qi. He sipped his wine and praised Wang Ying as a good wife, saying I was lucky. With his words, I felt adrift in confusion.

When we finished the two bottles of Fulai Spring, Wei Qi, ever the drunkard, had downed over a kilo and a half by himself. As I walked him to the gate, he pressed two condoms into my hand. “Nephew, enjoy your newlywed life, don’t miss the chance—it’s all about experience. But let me warn you, make sure you take precautions; never let her get pregnant. A pregnant female corpse is very troublesome.”

He headed home, leaving me standing at the gate for a long time, clutching those warm condoms, feeling conflicted. Physically, I’d wanted that for a long time; with Wang Ying’s figure—full breasts and hips—she was certainly attractive. Yet I didn’t want to, or perhaps didn’t dare.

She was a ghost, I was human; how could such a thing happen between us? Besides, I wanted my first time to be with the one I truly loved, the woman who would share my life.

With that thought, my mind was made up, and I casually tossed the condoms Wei Qi had given me aside.

When I got inside, Wang Ying was still washing my clothes, sitting in the night as if she were truly alive. Watching her earnest expression, guilt welled up in me, as though I owed her something.

“Da Chuan, go to bed. I’ll be busy for a while. After I finish washing, I want to tidy up the house—it doesn’t matter if it’s ours or not; we’re living here for now!” Wang Ying smiled as she saw me return.

“Stop washing, get some rest—it’s late,” I said, purely out of courtesy. Until now, I hadn’t really considered her my wife; I was only careful not to offend her.

“Ghosts never get tired, and nighttime is when we’re most active. You go sleep.” Wang Ying stood up, hands covered in laundry suds.

I still felt awkward and didn’t know what to say, so I stood watching her for a while. Seeing me linger, she came over and hugged me. “Husband, are you worried about me?”

I nodded mechanically. “Mm.” The truth was, only I knew—I wasn’t really worried about her, just embarrassed.

Wang Ying patted my shoulder. “Dear, go to bed quickly, I still have things to do.” With that, she pushed me into the bedroom.

Lying on the bed, I couldn’t name the feeling in my heart. Through a drunken haze, I recalled all that had happened these past days—the changes were immense, especially Wang Ying’s attitude toward me. She used to torment me endlessly, but now she was so good to me! I knew perfectly well why: it was all about my blood. With my blood, she could be reborn. So, her kindness wasn’t real love, or at least that’s what I believed.

Throughout the night, I woke up several times in a daze, each time seeing Wang Ying busy—mopping the floor, dusting the furniture...

When I woke again, Wang Ying was sitting by my bed with a glass of water. “Husband, get up and drink some water. You drank so much last night—it’s bad for your health.” Her voice was gentle, and she brought the glass right to my lips.

At that moment, Wang Ying had changed out of her old clothes, wearing a black nightdress that accentuated her pale skin. Beneath the nightdress, the white bra and panties showed through just enough to tease. This stirred something in me, and certain parts of me responded enthusiastically.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Don’t let your mind wander after drinking—it’s bad for you.” Wang Ying pouted playfully.

After a few sips of water, I lay down again. Wang Ying lay beside me, a chill slowly spreading from her body, leaving me completely awake. Thankfully, she hadn’t made any moves earlier, or I would’ve lost myself.

Lying next to me, Wang Ying was as still as a maiden, unmoving. Because her body was cold, I stayed alert. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but I wasn’t particularly afraid; if I hadn’t been drunk, I doubt I’d have had the courage to lie next to her.

Her body was cold but supple, and occasional touches sent waves through me. I silently lamented that, at this rate, I might soon succumb.

“Wife, I—I’m not used to sleeping with a woman. How about you take the bed, and I’ll sleep in the wicker chair?” I sat up and pointed at the chair.

Wang Ying frowned, got up, and gently pressed me back onto the bed. “Sleep. I don’t feel my body much—I’ll take the chair instead.” She wouldn’t let me refuse, smiling softly, and went over to the chair to lie down. I wanted to object, but she waved me off. “It’s late, go to sleep!”

The next morning, when I woke again, I felt numb and aching all over, my mind clouded, and my heart burned with pain—hangover from all the alcohol. When I sat up, waves of nausea hit me. I’d drunk too much and barely eaten, so my stomach was uncomfortable.

Wang Ying was gone from the chair. The room was empty. I rushed out and saw her in the southern kitchen, tending the fire. Steam billowed from an iron pot, and a delicious aroma wafted over, making my stomach contract.

“You’re up. Wash up and go call Seventh Uncle. I’ve made chicken soup—you both drank too much last night, need to soothe your stomach.” Wang Ying’s makeup was exquisite, her face rosy and vibrant, indistinguishable from a real person. Holding a ladle, she seemed the picture of a virtuous housewife.

“Chicken soup? Where did you get the chicken?” I asked, puzzled. Could Wang Ying have slaughtered one of Wei Qi’s second uncle’s chickens? That seemed unlikely; if his deceased second uncle still had chickens, she wouldn’t have stolen a village girl’s chicken.

“Don’t worry about where it came from. Just eat. Go quickly!” Wang Ying came over and straightened my shirt buttons.

Looking at the red flames in the kitchen, a thought struck me and I pulled her aside. “Aren’t you afraid of fire? It’s full of yang energy!”

Wang Ying shook her head. “As long as you’re here, I fear nothing. Your blood is pure yin—so long as I have it, I can live a long, long life.” Hearing this, I groaned inwardly, realizing this female ghost intended to stay with me forever.

I left the house and went to Wei Qi’s door. Before I could go in, the same village girl from before came striding over from the east, shouting, “Wei Qi, you wretch, did you steal my chicken again?”