From Song Xuan’s expression, Jiang Tang immediately knew that the other boy had misunderstood.
“What kind of ‘attending to me’ did you think I meant?” Jiang Tang lifted his eyelids slightly. A hint of amusement colored his ethereal voice. “Why don’t you tell me?”
The teasing note in his voice was completely undisguised. Song Xuan pressed his lips together but said nothing.
Jiang Tang raised a hand toward him. Wisps of black mist surged from his fingertips and stopped beneath Song Xuan’s chin. Threads of ghostly energy, almost like the fingers of an evil spirit made flesh, wrapped around the boy’s chin and gently tilted it from side to side. Through the black mist, his gaze seemed to appraise Song Xuan once more.
A red mark from earlier still lingered on the boy’s chin, now stained with a trace of black mist. Against his fair, clean features, it was particularly striking.
Only now did Jiang Tang realize how tall Song Xuan was. Though he still had the lean build of a young man, when he stood there with his thin eyelids lowered, he resembled a straight, towering pine or poplar beside a scholar’s desk—impossible to overlook.
“Don’t worry. I’m not interested in someone like you,” Jiang Tang said lazily, with an air of indifference.
If he wasn’t interested in someone like him, then what kind of person was he interested in?
The thought suddenly surfaced in Song Xuan’s mind.
After saying that, Jiang Tang withdrew his hand. Ghostly energy faintly emerged between his slender fingers, black mist winding around his pale fingers. After brushing and coiling around them for a moment, it vanished, taking the ink stains on his fingers with it.
That was a beautiful hand. The joints were distinct without being bulky, and the fingers were long, pale, and straight. With mist curling around them, they appeared even more exquisite, making one all the more curious about what the person who possessed such lovely hands looked like.
Song Xuan’s gaze followed the wisp of black mist against his will. Only after it disappeared did he lower his eyes again, allowing his long, straight lashes to conceal the complicated thoughts in his eyes.
Jiang Tang asked once more, “Do you know how to grind ink?”
Song Xuan had never come into contact with anything like that before. After a moment of silence, he replied, “No.”
Jiang Tang was not disappointed. He picked up the documents on the desk and lowered his eyes to read them. “Go outside and find a few luminescent stones. Embed them in the bookshelf.”
Song Xuan asked him, “Where are the luminescent stones?”
Without even looking up, Jiang Tang replied, “Go find Black Three.”
Black Three was the black-hatted little ghost from earlier. When Song Xuan had been dragged here, he had heard the other ghosts call him that.
This was the ghost realm. Song Xuan knew very well that he had no chance of escaping. All he could do was take things one step at a time.
Thus, he gave a quiet assent and turned toward the palace gates.
He had taken only a few steps when Jiang Tang called out to him again. “Wait.”
Song Xuan stopped and turned around. His dark eyes silently regarded Jiang Tang, as though asking, “What else is there?”
The figure behind the desk raised an arm and tossed something at him. Song Xuan instinctively shifted his foot to dodge it. The small object landed precisely where he had been standing and struck the floor with a clear, tinkling sound.
Jiang Tang mocked him, “Why did you dodge?”
Song Xuan looked down and saw a crystal-clear pendant. A braided cord was tied to its top, with red and black strands interwoven together. It reminded him of the evil spirit’s black robe and the dark-red sash tied around his waist.
“Take it. The ghostly energy here is too heavy. This pendant can help shield you from some of it,” Jiang Tang said. “This is the first time I’ve ever used such a fragile and useless offering.”
The evil spirit’s words went in one of Song Xuan’s ears and out the other. He simply pretended not to hear the last sentence, bent down, picked up the pendant, and hung it from his waist. In a low voice, he said, “Thank you.”
Only after the boy’s figure disappeared beyond the palace gates did the system’s voice ring out in Jiang Tang’s mind once more.
233 shrieked in its tender, adorable child’s voice: 【Host, your acting is incredible! You’re practically the evil spirit himself!】
Jiang Tang replied: 【I was actually nervous as hell.】
233 exclaimed in amazement: 【Nervous? I couldn’t tell at all!】
【That’s the point.】 Jiang Tang smiled faintly. 【I was lying to you.】
233 was bewildered. 【…?】
It seemed that its host was just a tiny bit mischievous.
Jiang Tang pulled the inkstone closer. His slender, pale fingers held the black ink stick as he ground the ink with slow, practiced movements.
233 asked curiously: 【Host, what did you do before?】
The movement of Jiang Tang’s fingers paused. 【You don’t know?】
【I don’t.】 233 said, 【I didn’t receive any information about you, Host.】
【What a pity.】 Jiang Tang sighed. 【I don’t know either.】
233 froze for a moment, then muttered, 【You’re lying to me again, aren’t you, Host?】
Jiang Tang asked in return, 【Do you think I’m lying this time?】
233 fell silent. It could vaguely distinguish the tone of its host’s voice, and this time, it felt that Jiang Tang wasn’t teasing it. He truly didn’t know.
Jiang Tang really hadn’t been lying. His memories began at the moment 233 appeared. He had no recollection of anything that had happened before then.
From 233, Jiang Tang had learned that he was dead and had learned the details of the task that awaited him. But he knew nothing about his life before death.
What identity had he possessed? What occupation had he had? What had he done? Had he had family or a lover? How had he died? He didn’t even know whether the name “Jiang Tang” had truly been his until the moment he bound himself to 233.
What was strange was that Jiang Tang still remembered certain common facts and everyday objects.
For example, he still recognized tables, chairs, books, ink, and brushes. He understood the concept of a system, could read and write, and even remembered how to grind ink.
Perhaps his brain had been damaged when he died and he had lost his memories. Or perhaps he had encountered 233 after drinking an incomplete version of Granny Meng’s soup. Jiang Tang could only speculate.
In any case, he was already dead. The things from his life could only be considered part of a previous existence.
If he had forgotten them, then so be it.
That was what he told himself, yet Jiang Tang felt a slight tightness in his chest.
As if sensing that the atmosphere had turned strange, 233 hurriedly changed the subject. 【Host, have you thought about how you’re going to complete the mission?】
Jiang Tang did not answer. Instead, he asked, 【Before that, I have a question for you. How exactly is the rescue mission considered successful?】
【Take Song Xuan, the current target, for example. He’s a sacrifice. I originally thought that as long as I saved him from the evil spirit, the mission would be complete,】 Jiang Tang analyzed calmly. 【But now I am the evil spirit. I have countless ways to avoid harming Song Xuan without breaking character. I could even send him out of the ghost realm and never trouble him again.】
【If that’s the case, then completing the mission would be far too easy,】 Jiang Tang said. 【No, I should say that the mission wouldn’t exist at all. From the moment I became the evil spirit, the evil spirit ceased to pose any threat to Song Xuan’s life. Naturally, there would no longer be any need for a mission to ‘save’ him.】
Jiang Tang’s reasoning left 233 speechless. After a long while, it finally said, 【The ‘rescue’ in the mission is meant in the broadest sense. Helping the target escape their current predicament is only one part of the mission. That is merely physical rescue. More importantly, the target must experience psychological rescue and healing as well.】
Jiang Tang’s tone faltered slightly. 【…Psychological salvation?】
【That’s right,】 233 explained. 【The System Guide states that hosts assigned to this type of mission are recommended to use the “friendship therapy method,” the “familial healing method,” and the “romantic healing method.”】
After reciting the relevant passage from the system manual, 233 continued cheerfully in its childish, adorable voice: 【Of course, these three methods aren’t the only options. The host may use any other method as well. As long as it completes the mission, it’s a fantastic method!】
Jiang Tang hummed in acknowledgment. 【I understand.】
Their conversation ended there. 233 still wanted to say more, but Song Xuan’s figure appeared once again at the entrance to the hall. Afraid of disturbing its host’s performance, 233 fell silent.
Song Xuan held several glowstones in his hands. Each was roughly the size of an adult’s fist, smooth and lustrous, radiating a bright yet gentle light that made the young man’s complexion appear even paler.
The glowstones were meant to be fitted into the bookshelves. Jiang Tang had mentioned that just moments ago. Song Xuan remembered, so he carried the stones over to the shelves and soon found several small compartments. Judging by their size, they seemed to have been specially made for the glowstones.
The figure behind the desk still had his head lowered, completely absorbed in his work. Several strands of his long, loose hair had mischievously slipped over his shoulders, and he lifted a hand to sweep them back behind his head.
The black-robed evil spirit held his brush in a seemingly casual yet perfectly proper manner. His strokes were decisive, and every movement flowed as smoothly as drifting clouds and running water, making him a pleasure to watch.
As Song Xuan placed the glowstones, he secretly observed the desk from the corner of his eye. A question rose involuntarily in his mind: So even an evil spirit had to work?
Just then, Jiang Tang, completely immersed in his work, suddenly spoke. “Three on the left, two on the right. Keep the last one.”
Song Xuan’s movements paused. What was he supposed to keep one for?
Although he was curious, Song Xuan did not ask. While this evil spirit’s personality and way of doing things seemed rather different from what he had previously imagined, the other party was still an evil spirit. Song Xuan still hoped to have as little contact with him as possible.
Following Jiang Tang’s instructions, Song Xuan placed the glowstones in position. The room, which had been exceptionally dark, immediately brightened considerably.
He disliked dark environments. The ghost realm was perpetually dim and lightless, which he found especially oppressive. The glowstones gave off a bright, gentle light. Though it could not compare with the warmth of sunlight, it nevertheless made Song Xuan feel as if the pressure in his chest had eased somewhat.
As soon as Song Xuan finished placing the glowstones, the figure behind the desk spoke again. “Go find Black Three and have him bring over a desk and chair.”
The hand of the black-robed evil spirit never stopped moving. Though he was clearly not looking in Song Xuan’s direction, it was as if he had been watching him all along.
Song Xuan did as he was told. He left the hall once more and found Black Three, who had been waiting nearby.
After hearing why he had come, the black-hatted little ghost was puzzled. “Did my lord really give that order?”
Before Song Xuan could answer, Black Three began muttering to himself again. “First the glowstones, and now a desk and chair. My lord’s orders are so strange today. He specifically instructed us before never to put glowstones in the hall. Why would he suddenly…”
Song Xuan did not hear the rest. He thought to himself that the evil spirit was indeed an evil spirit—fickle and impossible to read. Who knew why that evil spirit had suddenly decided he wanted glowstones again?
In any case, it certainly couldn’t be because of him.
