Chapter 166: Seven Ghosts Arrive

It turned out that the little-footed, green-clad old lady was called Zhu Ruhua. Thinking of this, I asked, “What’s the quarrel between you and her lately?”

Xia Gengtian gritted his teeth in anger and spent a long time complaining about how Zhu Ruhua loved dressing up, never cooked, and spent every day dancing with Old Wang next door. Sometimes she gathered a dozen old ladies to gossip, making his life miserable. The worst part was that she was now insisting on a divorce, saying she wanted to move in with Old Wang next door.

Seeing Xia Gengtian’s aggrieved expression, I had no choice but to comfort him, saying that life had to go on and that he shouldn’t let Old Wang ruin the harmony of his family.

The moment Old Wang was mentioned, Xia Gengtian grew even angrier, his melon-skin hat nearly falling off his head. He cursed Old Wang, saying that the man, relying on his dancing skills, fooled around with all the old ladies in the neighborhood and was essentially a lecherous scoundrel.

Suddenly, it dawned on me—I needed to meet this Old Wang next door.

In fact, this was a breakthrough. If Zhu Ruhua saw Old Wang’s true colors, she might drop the idea of moving in with him. That would be much simpler than moving a grave.

I asked for Old Wang’s address. Xia Gengtian, still fuming, warned me that Old Wang was extremely cunning and that I shouldn’t approach him lightly, or else I’d invite even bigger trouble.

I sighed and said, “Right now, I’m the one being haunted by your wife. My troubles are already worse. Why don’t you just talk to her and tell her to return early? And stop making that ghostly old woman cry at my window, okay?”

Xia Gengtian sighed. “Young man, if I had a way, I’d have dealt with her long ago. Sorry to trouble you. It’s late, I need to sleep.”

I asked, “Tell me, what month were you born in?”

Xia Gengtian replied, “I was born in May, the first half of the year.”

Something didn’t add up—if he was born in May, it was already the end of the year now.

…

Xia Gengtian fell asleep the moment he said he would. His eyes returned to normal, and he made no further sound.

Who was this Old Wang next door? I called out a couple of times, but Xia Gengtian remained silent.

I’d have to ask again tomorrow.

Holding Little Rascal, I went to the next room to rest, closing the door with a creak.

Little Rascal sneezed. I picked him up, placed him on the bed, and covered him with a blanket.

I had barely fallen asleep when a chilly wind blew in, making me feel like the door wasn’t properly closed. I got up to shut it, then propped a chair against it. Glancing at the time, it was already 3 AM. The roosters would crow soon, so I decided to sleep quickly and figure out how to deal with Zhu Ruhua tomorrow.

Just as I was drifting off, the door opened again. A cold gust of wind blew in, and through the crack, I seemed to see several pairs of eyes staring at me.

I shuddered, thinking Zhu Ruhua’s ghostly companions had arrived. But no—Zhu Ruhua was sleeping in my coat pocket. She couldn’t have summoned the ghostly old ladies so quickly. Besides, these eyes were as large as real human eyes—no, even larger.

I jolted awake. These weren’t the eyes of female ghosts, but male ghosts. If there was anything in the world that terrified me, it was eyes—especially pitch-black ones in the darkness, often filled with despair.

I leapt out of bed and fumbled for the light switch, but in my unfamiliarity with the room, I couldn’t find it.

Suddenly, an icy hand slowly slid up the back of mine.

A male ghost had climbed onto my bed.

My body tensed, and my heart pounded.

This was serious.

Xia Jinrong’s room had seemed perfectly aligned with feng shui principles when I first entered, but now I realized it hid dark secrets—it had the eerie aura of a haunted house.

Cold sweat trickled down my back as the ghost’s hand touched mine, icy to the bone. I was used to dealing with ghosts—ones that fled at the sight of me. But this time, I was the one being harassed.

The hand moved up my arm and pressed against the white wall. A click echoed, and the fluorescent light flickered on.

What the hell? The door had been pushed open, yet a ghost had turned on the light. Little Rascal lay motionless under the covers, as if dreaming of three beautiful female dogs surrounding him.

The light was on, but the room appeared empty.

Then I heard soft footsteps—so faint they were barely audible. A ghostly magnetic field engulfed me, surrounding me completely.

Suddenly, the blanket moved. Something kicked Little Rascal off the bed. He yelped twice before crawling under the wardrobe to sleep.

His eyes looked dazed.

At that moment, all sounds and footsteps stopped at the bedside. The light switched off again. I felt multiple ghosts slipping under the covers with me. Holding my breath, I had no idea where these vengeful spirits had come from.

“Sleep. What are you waiting for?” a voice seemed to whisper.

I swallowed hard. Thank goodness I wasn’t sleeping naked—that would’ve been disastrous. I couldn’t tell how many ghosts had joined me under the covers, nor their genders, but from their eyes and voices, they weren’t female.

They were male ghosts.

Lecherous male ghosts.

I jumped out of bed, threw on my coat, and found the door mysteriously locked—from the inside. Zhu Ruhua in my pocket was still fast asleep. Gripping my jade ruler, I saw it emitted no glow.

Was this a ghostly barrier? I poured the urine I’d collected from Little Rascal earlier along the doorframe, but the pungent smell did nothing—the door remained shut.

This wasn’t a ghostly barrier. It was an illusion—a trap.

Illusions deceive the mind, but a strong will can see through them.

Xia Jinrong had insisted I rest in this room. The moment I fell asleep, male ghosts had invaded. Was I meant to entertain them—for *that* purpose?

It couldn’t be that simple.

“Alright, sleep. We have business later,” another cold voice murmured.

My heart pounded. What kind of situation was this—sharing a bed with multiple male ghosts? If they got lonely, what would I do? As a disciple of ghost-hunting, I’d have to fight to the death if pushed to the brink.

“Evil spirits, show yourselves!” I shouted twice, but the ghosts under the covers remained peacefully asleep, ignoring me. I felt utterly humiliated—being ignored by ghosts hurt more than being ignored by people. It was like a teacher yelling for silence in class, only for the students to keep chattering while couples shamelessly made out.

Clutching the jade ruler, I used its faint blue glow to retrieve two blankets from the wardrobe and made a makeshift bed on the wooden floor. At least it wasn’t concrete, or I’d freeze to death.

On the top shelf of the wardrobe, I stumbled upon something bizarre.

Mostly black, with some flesh-toned, green, red, and purple items—some nearly transparent, others thick and opaque.

They were women’s stockings. Mostly used, some even stained with saliva.

Disgusted, I quickly tossed them aside.

Before lying down, I checked the time and decided to sleep. As long as ghosts and humans didn’t interfere with each other, we could coexist peacefully for the night.

As I made my bed, I counted fourteen liberation shoes on the floor.

Meaning seven ghosts had nearly shared my bed.

Seven ghosts. A pile of stockings.

And Little Rascal, with his Yin-Yang eyes, hadn’t reacted at all.

I placed the jade ruler on my chest, too afraid to sleep, worried the male ghosts would take advantage of me.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook me, and I dozed off.

By the time knocking woke me, it was already 9 AM. Uncle Jianguo came upstairs to check on me, puzzled. “Why are you sleeping on the floor? Practicing martial arts in winter?”

I shook my head. “Not martial arts. Seven ghosts slept in my bed last night. I had no choice but to give them space.”

Uncle Jianguo laughed. “Xiao Qi, stop joking. Seven ghosts in your bed? What, are you the reincarnation of Pan An, so handsome that ghosts flock to you?”

I knew he’d misinterpret it.

Around my makeshift bed were puddles of a strange, sticky liquid—like dried saliva.

Had the seven ghosts tried to devour me last night, only to be repelled by the jade ruler, leaving behind drool?

I picked up Little Rascal. “Seven male ghosts. Xia Jinrong might’ve set us up. I was locked in last night—couldn’t open the door no matter what. But since the ghosts didn’t harm me, I spared them.”

Little Rascal looked exhausted, as if he’d fought a tough battle instead of sleeping.

Uncle Jianguo’s expression darkened. “You mean Xia Jinrong tricked you into that room… to serve seven male ghosts?”

He emphasized *seven* and *serve*. I sighed—his mind had completely degenerated, always thinking about *service*.

I asked, “How did you end up here?”

Uncle Jianguo explained, “A regular customer from my funeral supplies shop came looking for me, saying some rich guy needed a Taoist priest for a ritual. So I brought my gear.”

I frowned. “And Xia Jinrong just believed you without question?”

Uncle Jianguo shrugged. “Maybe I acted convincingly enough. Had all the props ready.”

Remembering the stockings, I punched the wardrobe. Pulling out the assortment of hosiery, I scattered them across the floor.

Sherlock Holmes once said even the smallest clue could reconstruct a crime scene.

I paced the room, examining the walls, measuring the ceiling height, my expression grave. Near the corner, I noticed something off—the floor didn’t align perfectly with the whitewashed wall, as if hiding something.

I paced, sighed, and pondered rapidly.

Uncle Jianguo’s hands trembled. “What’s wrong? Something bad?”

I shook my head silently, then inspected the door, testing its mechanism.

Suddenly, it clicked. “Uncle Jianguo, have you been to the Hubei Provincial Museum? Remember the Marquis Yi of Zeng’s coffin?”

(Translation continues in the same style for the remaining text.)