The Actor 011

Fang Zhiyi held the baby girl and drifted away into the distance.

Ma Xiuyun chased after him, shouting, "Put the child down! You can't kill her!"

A faint reply floated back, "Kill her? Have you forgotten why you're still alive?"

The next day, in another town, a newly built Thirteen Grand Guardians Temple stood with an infant left at its entrance. Beside the child was a rough wooden plaque inscribed with the words: "Blessings from the Thirteen Grand Guardians."

Early worshippers who arrived were astonished at the sight.

"Is this a baby sent by the Thirteen Grand Guardians?"

"Who is it for?"

"No idea."

Suddenly, a middle-aged couple rushed out from the crowd. The woman trembled as she picked up the child, while the bearded man hurried inside, kowtowing before even entering the main hall.

"Thank you, Immortal! Thank you for your blessings!"

Meanwhile, Xiulian crouched beside her clay statue, silently observing the scene before glancing at the sleeping infant.

"What? Can't bear to part with her?" Old Ghost asked from the side.

Xiulian shook her head. "Ghosts and humans walk different paths. Staying with us too long would harm the child."

"The dream-sending method the boss taught Bai Jingtian works wonders," Old Ghost remarked, sniffing the scent of incense. "Do you think we really can become immortals?"

Xiulian ignored him, her gaze fixed on the couple now tending to the baby.

The pair had been carefully chosen by Fang Zhiyi—well-off, childless, free of gender bias, and kind-hearted. Before sending them the dream, Fang Zhiyi had resolved a crisis for them.

Imagine the terror of bandits breaking into a home only to find it filled with vengeful spirits.

Fang Zhiyi made sure the event was dramatic. He not only scared the bandits half to death but also drew a crowd before leading the ghosts away in plain sight.

Within hundreds of miles, the name of the Thirteen Grand Guardians had spread. Some called them ghosts, others immortals, but none could deny that they never harmed humans—only helped them.

When a child in Dongtou Village lost their soul, wandering mystics proved useless. Someone suggested praying to the Thirteen Grand Guardians, and sure enough, that night, a terrifying ghost barged in, stuffed something into the soulless child, and the child recovered.

Most believed the Thirteen Grand Guardians were omnipotent, but the reality was different.

To accumulate faith and merit, each temple had vengeful spirits stationed to relay requests back to their ruined temple, where Fang Zhiyi would dispatch ghosts to handle them. This system strained their limited numbers, prompting a new recruitment drive.

Bai Jingtian and Xiulian interviewed captured spirits—now venturing farther to recruit newly formed ghosts. But this encroached on others' interests, like He Wei's sect, the Five Talismans Dao.

Originally, the Thirteen Grand Guardians' territory had priests and monks, but their business dwindled as the ghostly guardians rose in prominence. Free and effective, the Thirteen Grand Guardians drove them out—though not without resistance. The opera-singer ghost proved too fearsome, yet never lethal, so the clergy eventually withdrew.

While righteous, the Five Talismans Dao tolerated the Thirteen Grand Guardians—until they trespassed into their domain. Now, they could no longer ignore it.

Qinghe Town became unbearable for Ma Xiuyun and He Wei. Rumors spread like wildfire, villagers embellishing tales with their own twists. The two faced scorn wherever they went, never suspecting Fang Zhiyi had ordered his ghosts to spread gossip. Who’d expect spirits to meddle in human affairs instead of haunting them? Even neighboring villages knew of Ma Xiuyun's alleged betrayal, with devotees spitting at her.

Watching the Thirteen Grand Guardians' temples thrive, He Wei's calm demeanor twisted into envy. He sought his master, accusing the ghosts of bewitching minds and draining life force.

The Five Talismans Dao cared little for the claims, but it made a convenient pretext. They rallied allies, preparing to exterminate the thirteen ghosts.

As war loomed, Fang Zhiyi stayed busy.

When Xiulian led new recruits to Butcher Zheng's house for training, Fang Zhiyi stopped her.

Turning back, Xiulian’s once-pale, ghastly skin now bore a faint flush from faith and offerings, her hollowed face regaining flesh.

"Return by midnight," Fang Zhiyi ordered sternly. She nodded.

Alone, Fang Zhiyi ventured deep into the mountains. As a ghost, he searched until finding the perfect spot.

"Host, something feels off here," Little Hei muttered, glancing around.

"Mm. The yin energy is unusually strong," Fang Zhiyi replied, eyes closed. To ghosts, this place was like a spiritual paradise for cultivators.

"Are you here to train?" Little Hei asked.

Fang Zhiyi suddenly turned. "Little Hei, I need a favor."

Unnerved by his seriousness, Little Hei fidgeted. "Host, go ahead."

Fang Zhiyi leaned in, whispering as if fearing eavesdroppers.

Little Hei’s newly formed features twisted in confusion. "Huh? What? Me?"

"I get the gist, but... how?" it stammered.

Fang Zhiyi grabbed it—ghosts could touch each other—and pressed its hands to the ground. "Just focus on what I told you."

Though baffled, Little Hei trusted its host. Eyes shut, hands sinking into the earth, it envisioned the cycle Fang Zhiyi described—life, death, rebirth. The world’s natural order.

"Host! I feel something!" Little Hei exclaimed.

Fang Zhiyi tensed. "What?"

"I can't explain it clearly, but I saw so many things." Little Hei fell silent after speaking, remaining quiet for a long time, as if frozen.