Chapter 119: The Intent of the Specter

In the blink of an eye, the small, mangy ghost had already been released for quite some time. Given how quickly it had scurried out of the earthen pit, it shouldn't take long for it to reach the mountains.

Qi Yan had been quite nervous at first, but now, twenty minutes had passed. Old Yan was still maintaining that terrifying posture with his eyes rolled back, and the candle beside him, which burned with an eerie flame, had already melted by a third.

It was fortunate that this was happening in the middle of the night, deep within a remote mountain range. If a passerby were to stumble upon this scene—a man sitting cross-legged on the ground, chanting incessantly with grey-white eyes—they would surely be frightened into a faint.

Qi Yan didn't know how much longer Old Yan's ritual would last, but he dared not interrupt. He could only stand at a distance, waiting patiently. He tried calling Xuanxuan’s phone again, but the result was the same: the signal was far too poor to get through.

Half an hour passed, and suddenly, Qi Yan felt a chill creep over him.

Although it was nearly three in the morning, the temperature had been humid and warm all night. After eating that large portion of vegetable filling, the feverish heat in his body had subsided to normal. The cold he felt now wasn't due to a drop in temperature; a faint breeze brushed past him, causing him to shiver.

A cold wind?

In the past, he might not have noticed such a detail, but this wasn't his first supernatural encounter. That inexplicable, bone-chilling air felt like a warning signal. Qi Yan quickly scanned his surroundings. Aside from Old Yan, who was still lost in his trance, there was nothing else there.

When he turned his head back, however, a blue-tinged figure had appeared in the previously empty space before him.

It was skin and bones, its legs hovering two inches off the ground. Its eye sockets were deeply sunken, looking exactly like a skeleton. Qi Yan’s reflexes kicked in, and he took a few steps back, steadying his nerves. Looking closer, he realized this was the same entity that had been quietly following him like a spiritual shadow back at the ruins of the old village.

Now that he could see it clearly, it looked just like a dried corpse. Hadn't it already been driven away by Xuanxuan? Why was this wandering spirit still here?

"Why are you pestering me?" Qi Yan asked directly. Though the spirit looked frightening, he had already verified that it wasn't particularly aggressive. With Old Yan sitting right there, he wasn't afraid, just curious.

Xuanxuan had said that in these deserted mountains, local wandering spirits were far more common than in big cities. People with a "colder" constitution were prone to seeing them, but most were harmless. At first, they had assumed it was just an ordinary spirit drifting nearby, one that would leave if given a small scare. But for it to suddenly reappear now—and to dare show itself while Old Yan was setting up a ghost-subjugation array—was strange.

Even though Qi Yan wasn't a practitioner, "long illness makes a doctor." With his current experience, he could sense that this ghost didn't seem to have any malevolent energy or the foul stench typical of evil spirits. If not for his ability to see it, it would be no different from empty air. It wasn't like "Mother" or the little girl in red; whenever those entities appeared, they radiated a bone-chilling aura—not a physical smell, but an intangible, dread-inducing sensation.

Still, even if it wasn't a malevolent ghost, it was a deceased soul. Since it was standing right in front of him, he couldn't simply ignore its existence.

"Woo... errr..."

The skin-and-bones spirit opened its mouth, emitting a wheezing sound like an old man. Its arms and legs hung limply, as if it were a patient suffering from a severe, wasting disease. Although its cheeks were sunken and withered, making it impossible to discern its features, it seemed to be trying to communicate something to Qi Yan, yet it couldn't find its voice.

This was awkward. Most ghosts couldn't speak human language. Their way of communicating with the living was peculiar, usually by slipping into dreams while people were fast asleep—what folklore called "dream visitation," a form of mental projection. Because the living possess "yang energy," ghosts generally didn't dare get too close; only when a person was asleep did their "defenses" lower significantly.

More powerful ghosts could use their will to transmit thoughts directly into a living person's mind, like transferring data. If one encountered a ghost of that caliber, it was best to run as fast as possible. But the spirit before him didn't seem to possess such ability. It stood there like a mute, forcing out weak gasps but unable to articulate a single word.

Seeing this, Qi Yan’s vigilance eased slightly. "What are you trying to say?"

He wasn't a medium and couldn't understand "ghost talk." It was like a conversation between two people who spoke different languages. Old Yan was still deeply immersed in his spirit-summoning ritual and was completely oblivious to his surroundings.

After a long stalemate, Qi Yan grew impatient. Did he have to guess its intentions? Li Ruo had mentioned such things before, though he hadn't paid much attention at the time, treating it as idle chatter.

She had said that evil ghosts usually pestered the living out of hostility, a desire to find a substitute for their own death, or lingering resentment that led to indiscriminate killing. But ordinary spirits usually wouldn't cling to a person unless... they were asking for help.

That was exactly what it meant. Especially for wandering spirits who lingered in the world long after death, most had unfulfilled regrets they lacked the power to resolve. So, they would take a risk and target a living person, hoping to find someone to help them complete their unfinished business. This wasn't an uncommon occurrence.

However, since most people couldn't see ghosts, spirits seeking help usually had to find those with "colder" constitutions or weak horoscopes—like Li Lan, who had been harassed since childhood. These powerless spirits had nothing to offer in return; for most living people, the so-called "merit" gained from helping a spirit was useless. If they were lucky, they might run into a practitioner, but most people would just be terrified and run away. These little ghosts were quite helpless.

Qi Yan guessed that if this one wasn't a malevolent spirit, it must fall into this category. He wondered how long it had been wandering here—perhaps years, or even longer. It had finally encountered living people who could see it, so it clung to them, desperately seeking aid.

But it was truly out of luck. Qi Yan gave a bitter smile. Assuming the ghost could understand him, he advised it kindly, "Go try your luck with someone else. As for me... I’m a selfish jerk. Even if I saw an old woman fall on the side of the road, I’d just laugh and walk past. I can’t be bothered with acts of kindness, let alone helping a ghost."

"Oh, and I suggest you stay away. See that old man sitting over there? He’s a master of black magic and is currently performing a ritual to subdue a monster. I don't know when that creature might be lured here, but you're already a miserable wandering ghost—you don't want to get caught in the crossfire, do you?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the sound of old wooden boards clattering echoed from the direction of the old village, followed immediately by three shrill, monstrous cries—the sounds of an infant and two women.