At the moment when the fox queen was issuing a series of orders, Qiao San’s light footsteps had just returned to his bedroom.
“Huh, what the heck is this?!” The guy who had just flopped onto the bed noticed an ancient book beside his pillow. Under the moonlight, he focused his gaze and realized it was the tattered book he had mysteriously picked up from the Ghost Forest!
Strange, hadn’t he thrown this away yesterday? And he clearly remembered tearing the book into pieces out of shame—so why was it now perfectly intact?!
Oh! He suddenly understood! It must have been his kind sister-in-law who picked it back up and sewed it together!
The momentary confusion quickly vanished. The rogue chuckled to himself. Since this book now carried his sister-in-law’s efforts, naturally he wouldn’t throw it out again. Instead, he hugged it like a treasure and drifted into a sweet slumber, hoping the warmth of his sister-in-law’s presence could dispel the nightmares that haunted him every night.
Time flowed steadily, neither fast nor slow. As the long snores echoed, Qiao San’s consciousness gradually sank into deep sleep.
His Yuan Shen (soul) “awoke” in a void. Tonight was different from usual—he wasn’t immediately “raped” by the terrifying You Niang. Instead, he floated aimlessly in a chaotic haze.
Who knew how long had passed—perhaps only an instant, perhaps an eternity. In any case, time had lost all meaning within the chaos.
Suddenly, a seven-colored beam of light descended from the sky. A blurry figure slowly floated down within the radiant glow.
“Ah, Mother!” Driven by a deep-seated memory, Qiao San blurted out instinctively. Though the “dream” from the Ghost Forest’s Windy Gully had vanished, it had left behind a familiar sensation. “Mother, is that you? I’m your son Sheng’er…”
This time, the figure within the colorful light did not call him tenderly. Instead, it replied in a flat, emotionless tone: “Master, I am not your mother. I am the Spirit of the Book, a soul born from this Daoist scripture, here especially to explain the book to you.”
“A Daoist scripture?! A spirit?! You’re not my mother?!”
Disappointed, Qiao San lay suspended in the void. His initial excitement turned into curiosity mixed with doubt. “Can even books become spirits?! And if you really are a spirit, why would you call me your master and do me such a favor?”
“Please don’t doubt, Master. Once you’ve learned the Supreme Dao, everything will become clear!” The spirit’s tone remained unchanged, mechanical and expressionless. Before Qiao San could reply, it gestured in the air with its hand, instantly conjuring two strange patterns before his eyes.
“Huh, aren’t these the two characters on the cover of this torn book?” Though Qiao San couldn’t read the strange characters, he possessed an extraordinary memory.
“Master, these two characters are pronounced ‘Gui Jing’ (Ghost Sutra). This is the name of the Daoist scripture, written in Sanskrit from the Buddhist Kingdom of Tianzhu.”
Hearing the spirit speak so authoritatively, the rogue couldn’t help but feel a flicker of interest. “Maybe this really is some kind of treasure after all.”
As soon as this thought crossed his mind, the book spirit seemed to have heard him and continued in its same monotonous tone: “Master, this character is pronounced…”
The glowing book spirit began its lesson, teaching Qiao San one character at a time. After explaining over a dozen strange characters, it spoke like an unemotional old scholar: “This is the opening passage of the Ghost Sutra, and also the first step in cultivating the Dao of the Ghost Sutra!”
“Oh, let me see!” Driven by boredom and curiosity, Qiao San tried reading it. Though he had only learned it once, his perfect comprehension and memory allowed him to slowly recite the opening lines: “To learn… the Ghost Sutra, a sharp blade… pierces the heart, abandon… the mortal body, enter… my Ghost Gate!”
“Ahhh!” Qiao San was stunned. Instinctively, he repeated the passage again. Then suddenly, like a tiger enraged, he roared: “What the hell! What kind of demon are you?! Get lost! You’re trying to trick me into suicide! Get out—”
“Master, your emotions are too intense. Today’s lesson is over. I shall return another day!” The glowing spirit vanished from the dream world with a flash, its dull, mechanical voice capable of making anyone laugh until their teeth fell out!
Come back another day—to convince Qiao San to stab himself in the heart with a blade! Gua, gua…
“You can die! Tomorrow I’m burning this damn book, and you along with it!”
His furious shout paused briefly. The skeptic, having lost his memories of the Ghost Forest, muttered confidently: “Must be what they say—what you think by day, you dream by night! Wait, that doesn’t make sense either—why dream about a weird book spirit instead of a beautiful woman? This is ridiculous!”
In the real world, the sleeping Qiao San rolled over in his bed and flung the tattered book away from his chest.
That night, Qiao San finally managed to avoid having that embarrassing “nightmare.”
※※※※※※※
A night filled with seductive mystery and eerie wonder finally passed. When the playful morning sunlight danced upon the grass tips, Qiao San once again arrived at his territory—the vegetable market.
“Boss, when are you gonna step up? We’re all ready to go!” Seven or eight ruffians gathered around Da Dan San, unusually energetic.
“Shut up! Don’t mention this again! If your head gets cracked open, don’t blame me for not warning you!”
Dadansan stood askew in the morning breeze, dressed in a short, tight outfit. A misty haze in his eyes completely obscured their clarity. His signature dagger swayed at his waist. Finally, he shook his unruly black hair back and lowered his voice: “Probably our Cai Boss will become the new leader. You all understand, right?”
A new day had arrived. The old scene replayed itself.
“Brothers, let’s get to work!”
“Hey, congratulations and best wishes for prosperity!” Though these were New Year’s greetings, the ruffians shouted them every day. The small vendors, who certainly weren’t prospering, found no joy in hearing them.
“Hurry up! Want to die?!” “Looking for trouble!” “Damn it, hand over the money…”
Such shouts and curses filled every corner of the market. Da Dan San, along with his cronies Bingsao and Youtiao, began their daily plundering.
“Please, brothers, my old wife is ill. I truly have no spare money. I can’t even afford medicine!” A pitiful, aged voice broke the “harmony” of the market, drawing countless curious glances.
“What the hell, Old Li, you trying this trick on us? Want me to send you to the hospital right now?!” Several hooligans glared, sneered, and immediately surrounded the pitiful old man.
As the best ruffians under the great rogue Da Dan San, they naturally never forgot the fundamental rule of being a hooligan:
—Any sign of resistance must be crushed in its infancy, ensuring the eternal prosperity of the hooligan trade!
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