As soon as she arrived, the spirits who had long been deprived of entertainment gathered around to hear her story.
I was somewhat curious—after all, I had once suspected that Zhou Wen might have been the one who killed her.
This female ghost had suffered terribly. Her boyfriend had betrayed her, and to force a breakup, he even had his friends join in humiliating her. After the incident, fearing she would report them, they forced her to jump to her death.
After becoming a ghost, the girl thought of nothing but revenge, yet she couldn’t leave. She was trapped, forced to relive her death over and over again.
I grew suspicious. "Why has your dress changed color?"
She stared blankly at her skirt, confused.
Master Fang, passing by with a teacup in hand, remarked, "Even a bound spirit will turn into a vengeful ghost after reliving their death a thousand times."
Watching Master Fang’s retreating figure, I asked, "Then... what about those people...?"
He glanced back at me. "I don’t have time for this nonsense. Handle it yourself!"
Handle it myself? Looking at the idle ghosts around me, I posed a question: "Do you all want some fun?"
That night, I led these spirits to visit each of the men who had harmed the girl. Some were now white-collar workers, others delivery drivers, and some were still jobless. As for her ex-boyfriend, I left him to her.
Listening to the howls of agony from upstairs, I lit a cigarette for the first time.
It occurred to me that sometimes, humans are far more terrifying than ghosts.
And honestly, walking around with a group of ghosts was thrilling. The wandering spirits on the streets didn’t dare even glance our way, hugging the walls as they passed.
After the revenge was complete, I led them away only after the ambulances arrived.
But the next day, trouble came knocking. I was on my way to open the shop—after all, Master Fang had said the shop was my inheritance, and I needed to manage it well.
Yet before I could get far, I was dragged into a van. My mind went blank as I recognized a vaguely familiar face. Damn, I thought, this is it.
The van drove for an entire day, and my mouth was gagged the whole time. We crossed at least two cities before I was finally taken to a factory.
Before I could even process my surroundings, someone shoved me forward.
Through door after door, I was brought into a room adorned with landscape paintings and calligraphy, showcasing the refined tastes of its owner.
An old man was trimming a bonsai on his desk. When I entered, he barely lifted his eyes.
"Young friend, which sect do you belong to?"
I hesitated. Master Fang had never actually told me, though I’d once overheard him mention it to Second Senior Brother.
"The Way of Peace!"
The old man let out an "Oh?" laced with skepticism.
"And who is your master?"
I shook my head. Partly out of loyalty, partly because I genuinely didn’t know Master Fang’s full name—only that his surname was Fang.
"Since you refuse to cooperate, you’re beyond redemption. Take him away." His tone was calm, as indifferent as the leaves he’d just trimmed.
I was dragged into a dark room. Before the door closed, I caught sight of two familiar faces—a man and a woman, both sporting black eyes. It would’ve been funny if I weren’t in such a dire situation.
But my amusement didn’t last. The room was thick with yin energy, as though countless spirits had been crammed inside. Yet I saw no ghosts—only heard incomprehensible whispers, ceaselessly gnawing at my mind.
I regretted my actions—not for beating those two, but for not finishing them off. Though killing them would’ve meant a life on the run. Dead humans and dead ghosts are two very different matters.
Sleep was impossible. The darkness made it hard to tell day from night, and the whispers drilled relentlessly into my skull, driving me to the brink of madness.
I began reminiscing about my life—from an ordinary student to a self-proclaimed mystic.
Oddly enough, if given the choice again, I’d still have become Master Fang’s apprentice. This line of work was far more interesting than any mundane job, though far more dangerous too. Not long ago, Second Senior Brother and I had dealt with a vengeful ghost. The homeowner had first hired two frauds, both of whom died on the spot before he finally came to us.
Second Senior Brother had said if someone of my skill had gone alone, the outcome would’ve been grim.
At that thought, I scratched my ear and laughed bitterly. These so-called righteous factions were far more terrifying than demons. They’d devised such a cruel method of torture—I’d either starve or go insane. I could even swear the room itself was alive.
But just as I resigned myself to death, wondering if my ghost could escape, the long-sealed door swung open. Two men hurriedly pulled me out, shoved me into a car, and sped off.
Watching the trees blur past and feeling the sunlight on my face, I realized how precious life was.
Yet I had no idea what had happened.
Not until they brought me to a countryside inn. The car door opened, and the two men helped me out. Assuming they were taking me to another trial, I resolved to show some defiance. I struggled, but exhaustion and hunger left me weak. Then someone stepped forward, pushing my escorts aside.
"Junior Apprentice Brother, you alright?"
I looked up at that familiar face, wondering if I was still trapped in delusion. Had I lost my mind?
Second Senior Brother frowned, hoisted me onto his back, and carried me to Master Fang. Weakly, I stared. "Master... is it really you...?"
Master Fang rolled his eyes. "Did you drink fake liquor or something?"
Second Senior Brother carefully set me down on a chair, unwrapped a piece of candy, and pressed it into my mouth before handing me a bottle of water.
The sweetness jolted my numb senses, and I regained some clarity. Glancing around, I saw many unfriendly faces in the courtyard. Only Master Fang and Second Senior Brother stood by my side.
"Brother Fang, the Chengqian Sect has returned your disciple. Will you stop now?" a middle-aged man asked darkly.
Master Fang remained nonchalant, spreading his hands. "I’ve been sitting here the whole time. I’ve done nothing."
Another man stood, playing mediator. "Brother Fang, your disciple is unharmed, isn’t he? Call your other apprentices back, won’t you?"
Master Fang suddenly pointed at me. "Unharmed?!" He seemed genuinely angry now. Rising to his feet, he ordered Second Senior Brother to carry me again, then strode toward the exit—no one dared stop him.
"I bear no grudge against any of you," he declared, "but Old Man Lei has gone too far! Since he stands with you as allies, I had no choice but to seek justice my own way." Ignoring their stunned expressions, he marched off, head held high.
But I saw it—the faint smirk tugging at Master Fang’s lips.