The Ghost’s Past and Zhuo’s Fear

“So, ghosts are formed when someone undergoes inferior differentiation precisely at the exact moment of their death. Correct?” Yuan Anqing inquired as they dried off in their hotel room.

“Mhm,” Zhuo affirmed, sitting on the bed.

“What are the odds of that happening?” Yuan Anqing pressed.

“Very low. About one in three hundred thousand,” Zhuo replied. “The chances of a ghost then becoming the core of a Vortex are even lower. Your luck is truly awful.”

“If my luck were good, I wouldn’t have been summoned as the Savior to begin with,” Yuan Anqing retorted, a hint of dry self-deprecation in his voice.

“Hey, but you got to meet me,” Zhuo countered, tilting his head with a grin.

“That only proves my luck is even worse than I thought,” Yuan Anqing said, pushing up his glasses before pointing at Zhuo. “When exactly do you plan on putting some clothes on?”

“Is that any of your business?” Zhuo retorted, standing brazenly naked before Yuan Anqing with his hands on his hips. Zhuo was quite pleased with his own body; he surmised Yuan Anqing’s lack of appreciation was simply due to his poor eyesight.

“Alright. Let’s continue our discussion about ghosts,” Yuan Anqing conceded readily, dropping the subject of modesty. “Can you just consume it?”

“You want me to eat that?!” Zhuo exclaimed, utterly astonished. “That thing is nothing but a pile of concentrated emotional filth, you know?”

“Would eating filth give you a stomachache?” Yuan Anqing asked, genuinely perplexed by the monster’s sudden dietary standards.

“No,” Zhuo countered, “but put yourself in my shoes. Would a human choose to eat their lunch out of a public toilet?”

Yuan Anqing understood. “Then how do we dispose of it?”

“Eh?” Zhuo leaned closer. “Don’t you feel sorry for it?”

Yuan Anqing subtly raised an eyebrow.

“The moment your eyes met on the bridge, didn’t you see anything?” Zhuo inquired.

“I did,” Yuan Anqing nodded.

He had witnessed the ghost’s past the moment they locked eyes. It was a life that had been utterly dreadful, filled with betrayal and suffering.

“Should we approach it from an emotional angle to purify it?” Yuan Anqing asked.

“No, wait. Were you completely unaffected? You really don’t feel any pity for it?” Zhuo had assumed Yuan Anqing’s silence earlier was him processing the tragic backstory.

Ordinary people would have their minds shattered after encountering a ghost’s memories. Yuan Anqing was a Savior, making it impossible for ghosts to break his mind, but creatures that become ghosts usually lead the most tragic lives imaginable. Did Yuan Anqing truly feel no empathy for it?

“It is indeed pitiable,” Yuan Anqing admitted analytically. “But its current existence has become a massive societal problem, hasn’t it?”

“Hmm?” Zhuo blinked, puzzled.

“I sympathize with it, but gentle persuasion certainly won’t solve the Vortex. Otherwise, Bai Tian and his team would have just sent a licensed psychologist,” Yuan Anqing said, gesturing to himself. “Since they sent me, it means counseling is off the table.”

Yuan Anqing held zero interest in why the creature had become what it was; it wasn’t his concern. He was a stranger to it, and he didn’t believe the ghost would listen to reason. Societal problems should be left to the world’s higher-ups to resolve. His sole task was to eliminate the Vortex to prevent innocent people from mutating. The ghost’s past suffering was entirely inconsequential to his KPIs.

“How cold-hearted,” Zhuo chuckled, a wide, joyful smile spreading across his face. “You have no empathy at all, do you?”

“I do have empathy,” Yuan Anqing corrected him mildly. “I simply find excessive, overflowing emotional expressions to be an unnecessary waste of calories.”

“Really now~” Zhuo sidled up to Yuan Anqing, brazenly straddling the man’s lap and draping his heavy arms over Yuan Anqing’s shoulders. “Your empathy is definitely much lower than a normal person’s~”

“So, how should we deal with the ghost?” Yuan Anqing circled back to his original question, completely ignoring the naked monster currently sitting on his thighs.

“A ghost is merely a spiritual entity. If you’re strong enough, you just disperse it,” Zhuo replied, resting his chin on Yuan Anqing’s shoulder and idly drawing circles on his chest. “But Savior, your conscious power isn’t quite strong enough to manifest yet~”

“Then what should I do?” Yuan Anqing sat impassively, allowing Zhuo to move about freely.

“Use your eyes.” Zhuo reached out, playfully tapping the frame of Yuan Anqing’s glasses. “If you’re not afraid of being devoured by me, I can help you pull it out.”

“You know that any attack on my mind will rebound onto you physically, don’t you?” Yuan Anqing reminded him.

“You don’t trust me!” Zhuo sat upright, reaching out and pulling Yuan Anqing’s glasses off his face. “How mean.”

Yuan Anqing offered no resistance, simply watching Zhuo in silence.

“Are you scared?” Zhuo cupped Yuan Anqing’s cheeks.

“I am,” Yuan Anqing replied truthfully, though his expression remained a mask of boredom.

“Is that so? Then let me see if you’re deceiving me.” Zhuo unleashed the overwhelming aura of his true form directly into Yuan Anqing’s mind.

Yuan Anqing gazed into Zhuo’s crimson eyes, and a blood-like hue instantly filled his entire vision. He felt a violent pull, as if his consciousness was being yanked backward by an unseen force.

A headache throbbed.

“We need to have a serious talk about your issues,” a familiar, stern voice resounded.

Yuan Anqing looked up. He found himself sitting across from the old director of the orphanage where he had once lived. The hotel room had transformed entirely into the dreary, wood-paneled orphanage office.

“Ms. Wu says you’re too cold,” the director said, rubbing her temples in exasperation. “You just stood there, neither crying nor laughing, when Ms. Wu had her emotional breakdown. Didn’t you?”

Yuan Anqing did not engage with the director; he knew this was all an illusion.

“This is the third time you’ve been returned by an adoptive family,” the director continued, sighing to herself. “Perhaps I should take you to see a doctor. I know you’re a good child, but sometimes your behavior is just too different from the other children. Do you understand?”

If this is Zhuo’s twisted mental game, then shouldn’t I just kill the opponent? Yuan Anqing stared blankly at the director’s face.

Yuan Anqing rose, casually picking up a metal paper cutter from a nearby pen holder. The instant his conscious murderous intent flared, everything around him—including the director—turned scarlet.

The paper cutter in Yuan Anqing’s hand transformed into roaring golden flames. The fire burned fiercely, scorching the wood paneling and consuming everything in its path.

The flames felt like a natural extension of Yuan Anqing’s body. He couldn’t quite describe the sensation, but he instinctively knew how to wield them, as naturally as flexing his own fingers.

This isn’t the physical world, a sudden realization dawned on Yuan Anqing. In the world of consciousness, I am an absolute god.

The golden flames roared, engulfing Yuan Anqing entirely. He stood unburnt amidst the inferno, his glowing golden eyes perfectly complementing the destruction.

Then, he willed the flames to spread outward, intending to incinerate everything in the illusion.

“OW!” Zhuo’s sharp cry violently yanked Yuan Anqing out of the mental world.

By the time Yuan Anqing blinked and processed reality, Zhuo was already lying on the hotel floor beside the bed, clutching his head in agony.

“What’s wrong?” Yuan Anqing asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“You’re asking me?!” Zhuo gasped, finding it incredible. “You attacked me!”

Was that considered an attack? Yuan Anqing leaned over, placing his hand on the back of Zhuo’s head and gently pressing. “Does it hurt terribly?”

“Of course it hurts!” Zhuo’s tail was already coiled tightly around his own calf in distress. “You’re the monster! Your willpower is the scariest thing I’ve ever felt!”

Zhuo had only intended to guide Yuan Anqing into his own mind to help him discover his power. He never expected Yuan Anqing to immediately manifest a golden inferno and unleash such a devastating psychic blow.

“My apologies,” Yuan Anqing said. Seeing Zhuo curled up, he surmised his newfound ability must be quite terrifying… or perhaps not, given that Zhuo’s pain tolerance was notoriously low.

While offering comfort, Yuan Anqing pulled the hotel blanket off the bed and draped it over Zhuo’s naked body.

The burning sensation in Zhuo’s skull wouldn’t dissipate with Yuan Anqing’s massage; it was a deep, neural pain.

“Can I soothe it for you?” Yuan Anqing asked. Zhuo looked quite pitiful curled up on the carpet.

“How would you even soothe it?!” Zhuo snapped his head around, glaring up to meet Yuan Anqing’s gaze directly.

Yuan Anqing had just emerged from the spiritual world, and his eyes were still gleaming with raw, molten gold. As Zhuo met his gaze, the monster felt as if he were dragged into a peculiar place.

Golden light flowed around Zhuo—was it a sea of warm flowers? Or gentle, afternoon sunlight? Zhuo couldn’t tell, but he felt the agonizing pain in his mind instantly dissipating. Every bone and inch of his skin felt gently caressed, making him want to close his eyes and drift into a deep, eternal sleep.

After indulging in the bliss for about two or three seconds, Zhuo’s predatory instincts flared, and he violently broke free from the trance.

“I’m going to be eaten!” Zhuo scrambled backward on all fours, burrowing his entire body under the blanket and wriggling away from Yuan Anqing like a frightened caterpillar. “You’re trying to eat me!”

“I’m not,” Yuan Anqing said, feeling helpless. He felt he had touched Zhuo’s mind just now, much like controlling the flames, but he had merely tried to use those golden particles to soothe Zhuo’s pain.

“You’re a monster!” Zhuo condemned from beneath the duvet.

His scaly tail poked out from under the blanket and lightly slapped the back of Yuan Anqing’s hand. The physical force was incredibly light, likely out of fear of triggering the contract ring and harming himself again.

Did I just get swatted? Yuan Anqing looked at the back of his hand in amusement.

Zhuo’s tail swayed back and forth, as if shooing Yuan Anqing away, urging him to keep his distance.

Yuan Anqing rubbed the back of his hand. “I was just trying to help you. Why did you hit me?”

Zhuo didn’t respond. His tail wagged even more vigorously.

“You didn’t resist when I soothed you during the car ride, so I thought I could do it again,” Yuan Anqing said, deliberately lowering his voice to sound hurt.

Zhuo’s sudden resistance had left Yuan Anqing genuinely bewildered at first. But thinking about it, it made sense. Zhuo’s mental safe space had just been completely invaded. A powerful psychic predator like Zhuo had never encountered such absolute dominance before. Much like his incredibly low physical pain tolerance, this sudden mental vulnerability had caused him unprecedented panic.

At this moment, Yuan Anqing realized he had to feign weakness; he couldn’t let a rift form between them before they faced the ghost.

“You saw that part of my memory, didn’t you?” Yuan Anqing said, reaching out and catching the tip of Zhuo’s tail. He felt it stiffen immediately. “I grew up in an orphanage. I was adopted a few times, but always sent back because I was too ‘cold’.”

“I thought our relationship had evolved into something like friends,” Yuan Anqing continued softly, releasing Zhuo’s tail. Sure enough, the tail had stopped wagging aggressively. “Are you starting to reject me too?”

A corner of the blanket was slowly lifted, and Zhuo’s messy head poked out. “Not at all.”

Hook, line, and sinker, Yuan Anqing thought, almost smiling. He knew he couldn’t laugh in front of Zhuo right now.

“You can’t scare me anyway!” Zhuo declared with absolute, overcompensated certainty. “You’re just a mental specialist! I’m an all-rounder!” Yuan Anqing only possessed strong conscious power, unlike Zhuo, who was super strong in every physical aspect.

“Yes. Which is exactly why I still rely on you to protect me,” Yuan Anqing continued smoothly, playing directly into Zhuo’s ego.

“You’re just comforting me again, I can tell,” Zhuo said, pursing his lips.

“Mhm,” Yuan Anqing said, reaching out to gently trace the curve of Zhuo’s crystalline horn. “But I’m glad you still fall for it.”