WBICDPH Chapter 67 Part 1

Chapter 67: A Fish in a Dried-Up Rut

Double Happiness Village was no small place. Lin Jin had followed Hua Nanzhi around inside and out for an entire afternoon and half the night—he was exhausted beyond recognition.

He’d originally planned to tease Qiuqiu with the rattle for a bit, but Qiuqiu couldn’t be bothered with him. Playing alone was boring, and somehow he drifted off to sleep.

He had been so tired before bed that even his dreams were chaotic and bizarre. In one moment, he was following Moyuzi around feeding woolly beasts; in the next, Liu Xun was punishing him by making him draw talismans and break formations. Then he was struck by lightning in the Martial Realm of Bitter Cultivation, and after that, chased by a dozen demonic cultivators demanding his life.

His sleep was restless. Around the latter half of the night, the dreamscape suddenly shifted—from the sunlit, misty Rain Mountain to an endless snowfield and glacier.

A bone-deep chill seized him. It felt as though he were buried beneath the snow. Not only was it freezing, but there was also a crushing weight pressing down on him, so heavy he could barely breathe.

It was unbearable.

Frowning, Lin Jin struggled to break free from the dream.

But as he grew slightly more awake, he realized the cold and the pressure weren’t imagined.

They were real.

The moment that realization hit, half his heart went cold.

Heavy. Cold.

Put together, those two words inevitably made him think of a certain ghost lady.

…

A frigid breath brushed across his neck, raising goosebumps all over his skin.

He heard a faint, whispery murmur near his ear, but whether from nerves or shock, he couldn’t make out the words.

Two icy hands were moving over his body, not with any inappropriate intent, but as if their owner were anxiously searching for something.

Lin Jin swallowed hard.

Avoiding it wouldn’t help. He steeled himself, did some rapid mental preparation, and cautiously opened his eyes.

The candle on the bedside flickered, but it was enough.

Ha. Of course.

He felt heavy because a ghost was lying on top of him.

He felt cold because that ghost was a red-robed wraith of extreme yin and frost.

Before, Lin Jin had only seen Zhu Eryao’s hands and her back as she lay on the ground. Now, they were face-to-face, staring wide-eyed at each other.

Even with mental preparation, the sight was deeply shocking.

Her hair ornaments hung crooked; her dark hair fell in disarray. The pitch-black strands against her blood-red wedding dress made her already pale complexion appear even more ghastly in the night.

She should have had a delicate, sweet appearance—but Lin Jin didn’t dare look too long. Her large eyes had no pupils, only bloodshot whites. Beneath them spread crimson cracks like fractured porcelain, resembling streaks of bloody tears.

Human and ghost stared at each other in stunned silence.

A few seconds later—

They both screamed.

Zhu Eryao shot off like a spring. With a smack, she hit the wall, then slid down into the corner, curling up and sobbing pitifully.

Lin Jin, meanwhile, leapt around on the bed like a shrimp thrown into hot oil. Sleepiness? Back pain? Leg pain? Gone.

Their combined shrieking nearly lifted the roof. It startled Qiuqiu upright and also alerted Xiao Yunkong and Hua Nanzhi, who had been meditating next door.

When Xiao Yunkong rushed in, Zhu Eryao trembled again in fright.

Miss Ghost, why are you scared? You’re the ghost!

Lin Jin caught every bit of her reaction. He glanced at her, then at Xiao Yunkong, forming a hand seal. Just as he was about to stop him, Xiao Yunkong suddenly stiffened mid-motion.

In that brief opening, Zhu Eryao dissolved into smoke and vanished into the corner.

Hua Nanzhi arrived moments later, carrying her Xiaoyue Blade. She scanned the room wide-eyed but saw no trace of a ghost.

“What happened? Zhu Eryao came again? What did she do to you? You’re not missing any limbs, are you?”

She grabbed Lin Jin’s shoulders, confirming he still had one head, two arms, and two legs before letting out a breath.

“No, not that…”

Lin Jin rubbed the spots Zhu Eryao had touched. He could still feel a lingering chill.

“She climbed onto me in the middle of the night. It seemed like she was looking for something. I heard her muttering, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying.”

He frowned, trying to recall the sounds. As he was about to speak, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye.

Xiao Yunkong was still staring at his half-formed hand seal, lost in thought.

Only then did Lin Jin remember—earlier, when Xiao Yunkong had tried to summon his sword, he had stiffened just like that.

“Senior Brother?”

Lin Jin called cautiously.

“Are you okay?”

…

Xiao Yunkong seemed to come back to himself. He slowly curled his fingers and looked at them.

“Not particularly.”

“Huh?”

“There’s something wrong here.”

He formed the seal again—Lin Jin recognized it as the motion to summon a sword cultivator’s natal blade.

A few breaths passed.

Xiao Yunkong’s sword remained motionless in its sheath.

“I can barely sense my spiritual sea,” he said at last.