Chapter Thirteen: The Old Lady Who Lost Her Way with Her Daughter-in-Law

This space was filled only with her voice and mine—I could even hear my own breathing.

Huang Ying kept her head lowered, not interrupting me. Perhaps she didn’t know what to say.

“I think… I’ve fallen for you.” This time, it was my face that flushed with color. After eighteen years, this was the very first time I had confessed such feelings to a girl!

Huang Ying stiffened, her head still bowed, her cheeks flushed all the way to her ears.

“I…I…” she stammered, unable to form a complete sentence.

I didn’t understand what she meant. A girl as outstanding as her—how could I ever be worthy of her? In fact, there were very few men in the world who could match her.

Seeing her hesitate, I quickly laughed it off. “Haha, I’m just joking with you. You’re not mad, are you?”

I didn’t care about her status, but I cared deeply about her feelings. Maybe she liked me, but what if she didn’t? Perhaps she just didn’t have the heart to reject me.

“Oh…” Huang Ying replied, and I could hear the disappointment in her voice!

My heart leapt with joy—it turned out she did have feelings for me. I had just overthought it! Lacking experience, I had panicked the moment I spoke those words. A misjudgment.

I glanced down and saw tears gathering in Huang Ying’s eyes.

“Huang Ying, there’s one more thing I want to tell you.” Gaining courage after realizing her feelings, I spoke again.

She kept her head down, saying nothing.

“Actually, I wasn’t joking earlier. What I said was true—I really have fallen for you!”

This time, tears streamed freely from her eyes. She was a ghost. She had never imagined such a day would come.

Meeting someone who didn’t despise her was already a rare blessing. Now that I said I liked her, it was something she had never dared to hope for.

I had thought she would accept me, but unexpectedly, she offered no response. Instead, she said, “Let’s go back.”

Then she stood and left, leaving me alone on the bench.

What did this mean? Was it a rejection? Or was I simply deluding myself—that she had no interest in me at all, and that any care she showed was merely repayment for the help I had given her?

No matter what, I felt a profound disappointment. My first confession had ended like this—nothing but sorrow and unwillingness.

My only hope now was that our relationship would not grow distant. If it stayed as it was, I would be satisfied.

After sitting for a while longer, I prepared to head home. On the way, I saw a familiar figure.

It was the elderly woman from before, stooped and trailing behind me.

“Grandma, what are you doing here? Didn’t the police contact your family last time?” I asked. They had taken her away before—how was she still here?

She didn’t answer, only shuffled toward me, swaying unsteadily. I truly feared a gust of wind might blow her down.

“Young man, do you know where Building B is? I got separated from my daughter-in-law,” she said.

“Your home isn’t in Building B. How did you get out again?” I asked. Old age brought trouble—I wished I would never reach such a day. What if one day I grew old, suffered dementia, and forgot my grandfather, parents, and Huang Ying?

“Young man, I got separated from my daughter-in-law…” she repeated.

“I’m asking how you came out!” I pressed on, thinking she hadn’t heard me clearly.

She came right in front of me, lifted her head, and said, “I got separated from my daughter-in-law…”

“Damn you!” I cursed loudly. At that moment, I caught a clear look into her eyes—white pus oozed from them.

Such a condition belonged only to the half-dead—the state somewhere between us and Huang Ying.

Our souls still lingered; Huang Ying’s had vanished, but she had lived for over a century. Her soul was stronger than ours. Losing something always meant gaining something else.

The elderly woman before me was half-decayed; her soul still clung on. Though not as strong as Huang Ying’s, it was certainly stronger than ours.

Secretly, I took a small bottle of red viscous liquid from my pocket and approached her. “Where do you live? I’ll take you home,” I said.

As I spoke, I discreetly poured all of the liquid onto her.

Sure enough, as the red fluid touched her body, blue smoke rose in waves.

All creatures in the world possess dual energies—yin and yang. For example, mugwort is yang, while paulownia is yin.

Humans are the same. Children, women, and the elderly tend toward yin energy. Thus, common ghosts are usually children, elderly, or women. Middle-aged men rarely become ghosts unless burdened with deep grudges.

The viscous liquid’s nature opposed the elderly woman’s yin energy. As soon as I poured it, she felt discomfort; her face twisted into a grotesque grimace.

My feeble efforts were no match for her, so I immediately stepped back.

Under the liquid’s effect, her body began to rot slowly. Her body should have decayed long ago, but she had remained in a strange state, which caused this.

The liquid consumed her last breath; now she was truly dead, and the decay accelerated.

At first, under the liquid’s influence, she couldn’t focus on me, but the liquid soon ran out. I had only brought a small amount with me.

Once the liquid was gone, her focus shifted to me. Ghosts inherently hunger for other souls, just as we need to eat. Only by devouring others’ souls can they become stronger; otherwise, like Huang Ying, they remain trapped at the same level.

Step by step, the elderly woman moved toward me—her grotesqueness no less savage than a wild beast.

Her yin energy was overwhelming. Knowing my limits, I kept retreating, searching for something to repel her.

My grandfather had once said that ghosts fear not humans, but dogs and pigs.

These animals possess far stronger yang energy than humans. If only a dog were here now! Ordinary ghosts stand no chance against dogs. Even my grandmother was wary of dogs.

But disappointingly, neither were around.

The elderly woman began to attack.

Her eyes dark and sinister, a shudder from the depths of my soul swept over me.

This shouldn’t happen—I shouldn’t feel fear. Yet the sensation was so real, indistinguishable from terror.

After a few seconds, the fear transformed into a soul-deep pain—as if something precious was being torn away.

Clenching the pain, I extended my right middle finger.

“I’m going to fight you!” I bit down hard. Crimson blood welled from my finger.

Grandfather had said the middle finger’s blood holds the strongest yang energy. I hoped it would work.

My consciousness grew faint, and my vision blurred with double images.

“Go to hell!” I flicked my finger, scattering droplets of blood.

I had wanted to step forward and force the blood into her mouth, as my grandfather had done. But now I could barely stand; flicking the blood was all I could manage.

Only a small portion of the blood reached her. She grimaced in pain as chunks of rotting flesh fell away, but the effect lasted only seconds before stopping.

Then I felt her begin to strip away my soul. Bit by bit, it was being taken. I sensed myself about to plunge into the abyss of the Nine Netherworlds. I even glimpsed the fiery torment of that infernal realm.

After a minute, I could no longer move, lying on the ground, face as pale as paper.

Ha. How laughable. Only minutes ago, I confessed to Huang Ying; now I was about to bid the world farewell forever. At this moment, I wondered—after death, could I become like Huang Ying? If so, I could still pursue her. But I knew it was impossible. I was doomed because my soul was being taken; I could be neither human nor ghost.

Unwilling. Deeply unwilling. This was not how I envisioned it. Was this fate? Even if I refused to accept it, perhaps in the next moment I would be forever severed from both the living and the dead.