Ch39 – The coffin shakes, again

Translator: Abo Dammen

Tao Yaozhi, not understanding what had just happened, squatted down and carefully poked Bai Qing’s shoulder. “Bai-ge, are you hungry?”

Hearing that familiar “Bai-ge,” Bai Qing’s heart gave a sudden jolt. The chaos in his mind cleared in an instant. Memories from ancient times and the modern day slowly fell back into order. Only then did he realize that he was standing outside Ying Zhili’s bedroom, not in the Ancient Lotus Kingdom. 

Bai Qing turned his head toward the black vortex that was gradually dissipating, lingering fear still coiled in his chest. Then he looked at Jing Liansheng. The ghostly hands that had desperately dragged him out were covered in wounds, bluish bruises crisscrossing like a net, shockingly vivid.

Pain clenched Bai Qing’s heart. “Are you hurt?” he asked Jing Liansheng.

Jing Liansheng came back to himself and replied stiffly, “Just minor injuries.”

Bai Qing pressed on. “Those formations are the most vicious against ghosts. Don’t force yourself. Are you hurting anywhere?” 

Jing Liansheng gave a cold snort. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

As soon as he finished speaking, he spat out a mouthful of black blood. Inside the room, the black vortex had completely vanished. Everything was calm again, as if nothing had happened. Bai Qing, however, had no attention to spare for anything else. His brows knitted tightly as he said, “You should go back and heal.”

“Aren’t you here to investigate something?” Jing Liansheng shook his head. “We went through all that trouble to get into Ying Zhili’s room. Wouldn’t it be a waste to leave now? Aren’t you going to look around more?”

Bai Qing’s expression was firm. “Nothing matters more than your safety. Don’t push yourself.” 

A shadow flickered across Jing Liansheng’s eyes. He wiped the black blood from the corner of his mouth. “I’m fine.”

Tao Yaozhi, unusually cautious this time, scanned the surroundings warily. Peach blossom branches extended from his body, lightly sweeping and probing the room. After a moment, he drew them back and let out a relieved sigh.

“Should be fine now. There’s no abnormal fluctuations in spiritual energy.”

Even so, Tao Yaozhi remained stationed by the door, not taking another step inside. With Tao Yaozhi’s confirmation, Bai Qing finally walked in. Jing Liansheng followed closely behind him like a shadow, alert for any mechanisms that might be triggered. 

The maid’s earlier words were indeed true. Ying Zhili had clearly packed up before leaving. The room held almost no trace of his personal belongings. Even the signs that someone had once lived here were negligible. It was as though the room had always been empty.

Bai Qing’s gaze paused on the bookshelf. Something stirred in his mind. He spoke softly,

“These books…”

Jing Liansheng said, “They’ve always been here. You could say they’re part of the furnishings.” 

This guest room had originally been the study of a young master from a previous generation, the shelves filled with books arranged by the former owner.

“No wonder they look untouched,” Bai Qing nodded, though his eyes continued to roam across the shelf.

“Ying Zhili probably wouldn’t be interested in these either,” Jing Liansheng said thoughtfully.

Suddenly, Bai Qing’s gaze froze on one particular volume. He reached out and ran his fingers slowly along its spine. Seeing this, Jing Liansheng quietly stood to the side and did not disturb him. 

“This bookshelf… has clearly been handled many times,” Bai Qing said seriously, his brows knitting.

As he spoke, he pulled out a book from the edge. “Taiping Guangji…”

“Is there something wrong?” Jing Liansheng asked.

“This…” Bai Qing froze for a moment. He nearly blurted it out that he seemed to remember that back when Ying Zhili was still Wu Ying, this very book had also been on his shelves. 

But Bai Qing’s identity was still a secret, and it wasn’t something he could share with Jing Liansheng. So he casually said instead, “Isn’t this a collection of anecdotes? Ying Zhili reads this kind of thing too?”

As he spoke, he flipped it open at random, straight to the page Ying Zhili most often read. Because it had been turned so frequently, the binding at that page was noticeably looser than the rest, obvious at a glance.

“This… is indeed a little strange,” Jing Liansheng said, leaning in to look. A trace of puzzlement appeared on his face as well. “Taiping Guangji, volume four hundred and thirty—Ma Zheng?”

Tao Yaozhi asked, “Does this Ying Zhili like reading stories about Ma Zheng?” 

“What he’s reading probably isn’t Ma Zheng,” Bai Qing said, his gaze sharpening.

This was an ancient printed edition, made with traditional ink-rubbing techniques. The lines that had been rubbed too often were blurred.

The sentence where the ink had spread read: “This is a chang ghost, one eaten by a tiger, who serves as the tiger’s herald.”

Especially the two characters
chang ghost. They had been worn faint, the mark of countless fingertips sliding over them, countless gazes lingering there. 

Bai Qing asked Tao Yaozhi, “Do you know what a chang ghost is?”

“Of course I do.” Tao Yaozhi was, after all, a thousand-year-old demon. He spoke with confidence, even a hint of pride. “A chang ghost is someone who was eaten by a tiger and turned into a ghost. They can only follow the tiger, helping it find prey, helping it eat, clearing the way ahead. To put it plainly, it’s getting eaten by a tiger and still having to be its lackey. Pretty pitiful, really.”

Bai Qing fell silent for a moment. His eyes rested on the ancient book, brows faintly drawn together, his voice low. “Pitiful…?”

With Jing Liansheng’s temperament, such pity was never going to resonate. He replied coldly, “To die by a tiger’s fangs and still be forced to serve it, even as a ghost, that’s worse than having one’s soul scattered.” 

Tao Yaozhi seemed to disagree. “As the saying goes, better to live wretchedly than die well.”

“Does being a chang ghost count as living?” Jing Liansheng said dismissively.

Tao Yaozhi only replied, “Only humans talk about integrity.”

Jing Liansheng was about to say more when his chest suddenly felt tight. He coughed once. Bai Qing had been watching Jing Liansheng closely all along. Seeing this, he immediately knew that Jing Liansheng had injured his ghost body by forcibly breaking the formation. 

He sighed, returned Taiping Guangji to its place, and said, “I was hurt by the formation just now. I’m not feeling great, so let’s go back and rest first.”

“You’re injured?” Jing Liansheng said. “I told you not to push yourself.”

Bai Qing: …Who exactly was the one pushing himself?

The two of them returned together to the west room and closed the door. Tao Yaozhi, extremely well-behaved, stayed outside in the small earthen pot. In the hall, that millennium-old yin-wood coffin lay horizontally in the center. 

Jing Liansheng said courteously, “Since you’re unwell, you should go inside first to recover.”

Bai Qing thought: This dead ghost is far more badly injured than I am.

But the dead ghost was dead-set on posturing, and Bai Qing couldn’t say it outright. So Bai Qing covered his mouth and coughed lightly. “But with injuries like mine, I’m afraid I can only… recover in that way.”

“That way?” Jing Liansheng paused, then understood. “You mean… dual cultivation?” 

Bai Qing hadn’t expected Jing Liansheng to say the term so uprightly and matter-of-factly. He was impressed, honestly. But this attitude was actually helpful since it meant Jing Liansheng truly regarded it as a necessary treatment method, nothing else, which made it easier to persuade him.

So Bai Qing said, “Yes. Could you…?”

“I can.” Jing Liansheng lifted the coffin lid. “You go underneath.”

Bai Qing: …You really don’t have to be that decisive. At least build up to it a little. 

Seeing Bai Qing’s poor expression, Jing Liansheng assumed he was critically ill and needed immediate treatment. Without further delay, Jing Liansheng reached out and pushed Bai Qing down.

Bai Qing didn’t react in time, staring in shock. “Hey—bro?!”

Jing Liansheng: …At times like this, he doesn’t call me husband anymore…

Keeping a straight face, Jing Liansheng asked, “What’s the problem?” 

“You can’t just go straight in, can you?” Bai Qing coughed. “Even farming requires loosening the soil first! Don’t you get it? Only moist, soft earth is fit for cultivation!”

“There’s no need to worry about that,” Jing Liansheng said. “I won’t hurt you.”

For a split second, Bai Qing wanted to curse his own hopelessly love-addled brain, hearing Jing Liansheng say something like that so seriously, and somehow finding it sweet. Before he could process it, his body was already flipped over.

Face-down, staring at the pitch-black bottom of the coffin, Bai Qing’s heart skipped. Last time… there was a kiss. 

He had secretly hoped to kiss Jing Liansheng’s cold lips again. But this time, Jing Liansheng seemed clearer-headed and did none of those ambiguous things.

Bai Qing startled again. His clothes were still perfectly intact, yet his weak point had already been seized.

Jing Liansheng’s goal was precise, his grip sure and efficient, like grabbing a scallion, one squeeze and moisture came forth. Whether Jing Liansheng had mastered the technique, or Bai Qing was simply too enamored with him, it only took Jing Liansheng a few moves to make the “land” suitable for cultivation.

The next moment, Jing Liansheng began to till. 

Bai Qing’s clothes remained on. Likewise, Jing Liansheng was fully dressed, only opening what was necessary at the point of contact. It was even more impersonal than a long-married couple going through the motions.

Bai Qing weakly supported himself. Because of the position, he couldn’t see Jing Liansheng’s expression at all. But he could imagine it. Jing Liansheng must be calm and composed, probably approaching this with the same mindset as performing artificial respiration or CPR.

Bai Qing bit his lower lip. His body felt pleasure, yet his heart felt increasingly hollow. He steadied himself and reminded himself: I’m not here to enjoy this.

He was doing this with the intent to heal Jing Liansheng. In the way of supplementation, the one who releases later receives nourishment. If he wanted to heal Jing Liansheng, he had to go first. 

So he relaxed completely, as though opening floodgates.

Jing Liansheng hadn’t expected Bai Qing to release so suddenly. He had no time to stop it and felt a surge of spiritual energy rush up along his spine.

Jing Liansheng frowned sharply, withdrew, and helped Bai Qing sit up.

Only then did Bai Qing turn around and see Jing Liansheng’s expression, and it was just as he had imagined, serious, calm, and utterly devoid of emotion. 

Jing Liansheng looked startled and worried. “You… why did you—”

Bai Qing only looked at Jing Liansheng’s arm.

The bluish marks there had already healed, nourished by the spiritual energy just absorbed.

Bai Qing immediately relaxed. He blinked and said, “I’m fine.” 

Seeing this, how could Jing Liansheng not understand?

Bai Qing had deliberately done this to heal him.

Jing Liansheng sighed softly, instinctively lifting a hand to brush Bai Qing’s cheek, then abruptly realizing his impropriety at the last moment. His fingers shifted, only grazing Bai Qing’s hair, raising a faint tremor.

“If you want to help me, you can discuss it with me,” Jing Liansheng said. “I may be stubborn, but I’m not incapable of telling good from bad.” 

Bai Qing recalled being scolded by Jing Liansheng a thousand years ago and said, a little irritably, “I think you’re exactly incapable of telling good from bad.”

Jing Liansheng ignored that. He helped Bai Qing sit properly and examined him carefully. Seeing that Bai Qing hadn’t been weakened or harmed, his brows finally eased.

The first time, Bai Qing had been left at a loss because Jing Liansheng had lost his sanity. This time, Jing Liansheng was extremely careful, completing everything from the position farthest from Bai Qing, in a way least likely to catch Bai Qing’s scent.

Yet he found his self-control growing weaker. 

Bai Qing was fully clothed. From this angle, almost no skin was exposed. There was barely any closeness between them at all…

And yet, the moment Jing Liansheng held Bai Qing’s body, he couldn’t avoid feeling a craving that welled up from deep in his bones.

So intense it was nearly wicked.

Unlike what Bai Qing had imagined, Jing Liansheng wasn’t calmly performing this like a surgeon holding a scalpel. He held his breath, gripping the other’s long, supple waistline firmly, deliberately avoiding Bai Qing’s bare skin, retreating to the furthest operational distance as if evading a prairie fire sparked by a single star. 

Bai Qing did nothing. He merely existed beneath him. And yet Jing Liansheng could barely restrain the violent urge surging sky-high within him.

A non-human desire for destruction churned in his chest. A thought rose in his mind—he wanted to crash into him, even to flip Bai Qing over, make him look into his blood-red eyes, kiss his bloodthirsty fangs.

Then, bite by bite, swallow the soul within this living corpse, turning possession into eternity.

But reason ultimately triumphed over madness. 

Jing Liansheng clenched his teeth, forcing himself to calm down.

He used every ounce of rationality as reins to hold himself back, controlling himself, preventing that destructive desire and possessiveness from running rampant. He forced himself to become an emotionless pendulum, swinging along a fixed path, back and forth. As if he existed only to complete one motion after another, nothing more.

Thankfully, Bai Qing ended it lightning-fast.

Jing Liansheng knew in his heart that if it had gone on any longer, he truly had no confidence he could have remained calm, unconsumed by the madness inside him. Now, seeing that Bai Qing was indeed fine, Jing Liansheng finally relaxed. 

Bai Qing stared unblinkingly at Jing Liansheng, watching as the dim fissures in his ghostly form rapidly repaired. Clearly, his spiritual power was nourishing him.

Satisfied, Bai Qing nodded and said softly, “You’re not fully recovered yet. Go back into the coffin and regulate your breathing for a while. By the time the moon reaches its zenith, you should be completely healed.”

Jing Liansheng had no objections and lay back in the coffin. Bai Qing lifted the coffin lid and gently covered it, as softly as tucking in a child—perfectly sealed, without making a sound.

In an instant, complete darkness enveloped Jing Liansheng. 

As a fierce ghost, Jing Liansheng didn’t actually need to breathe. But during cultivation, he still maintained the habit of breathing in and out. Eyes closed, with each inhale and exhale, the lingering scent Bai Qing had left behind in the coffin flowed into his nose. Especially in such a cramped space, the presence of that residual scent was infinitely magnified. Threadlike and lingering, it disturbed his mind, stirring again the barely calmed, hard-to-suppress craving.

Just now, Bai Qing had relaxed quickly, but Jing Liansheng had remained taut.

Now, immersed in this flowing scent, Jing Liansheng’s desire inevitably reared its head once more. Reason told him to stop breathing at once, yet his chest rose and fell against his will. His Adam’s apple rolled heavily, trembling with his rapid breaths.

In the darkness, no one could see his disarray or struggle. This hidden darkness became his shelter, allowing him to release himself. He no longer forced it down. He took a deep breath, drawing Bai Qing’s scent into his very core, while his hand covered his most vulnerable place. 

“One last time…” he murmured into the void.