Chapter 138: Extra 3 The Ghost King’s Bedtime Story

HUA CHENG had fallen ill.

Although it was a minor illness, how very curious it was that ghost kings could even get sick.

When Xie Lian returned to Thousand Lights Temple to check up on Hua Cheng’s calligraphy practice as usual, he was highly concerned to find him slightly feverish.

He pushed Hua Cheng onto the altar—ah, yes…since there were no divine statues in the way, the two of them often took a tumble on the temple’s spacious altar—then only got more worried after he felt his cheeks and forehead.

“You’re so hot.”

Hua Cheng laughed. “I always burn hot at the sight of you, gege. If you keep touching me, I’ll get bothered too.”

Xie Lian blinked, then hastily tried to pretend he was blushing out of anger. “Naughty, even when you’re sick…”

“What did I say?” Hua Cheng protested, acting innocent. “I’m very well behaved. Gege, stop worrying. A small thing like this is nothing to be concerned about.”

But Xie Lian could hear that his voice was deeper and scratchier than usual, and he could see the slight fatigue that colored his brow.

“Get some rest, then,” Xie Lian said. “I’ll keep you company here for the next few days until you’re better.”

He gathered the stationery for writing practice and brought it to the altar. Hua Cheng patted the spot next to him.

“Is gege not coming up to join me?”

But if he went up there, when would Xie Lian have a chance to come back down? At that point, they could forget about doing anything else for a while.

“Nah,” Xie Lian declined politely. “My San Lang has overworked himself.”

“Nah,” Hua Cheng laughed. “How could San Lang ever be afraid of hard work when it comes to working gege hard?”

Xie Lian ignored him, refusing to participate in his games. Instead, he focused on putting together a calligraphy copybook. Hua Cheng flipped onto his side and stared at him, one hand propping up his cheek. His intense, rapt gaze always made Xie Lian blush, no matter how many times he was the subject of it.

“…San Lang, look at the copybook, not at me,” chided Xie Lian, sounding uncomfortable.

Hua Cheng sighed. “Gege, truth be told, just the sight of this stuff makes my head hurt. But since you’re the one who wrote it for me, I can’t bear to look away. Maybe staring at copybooks too much is the cause of my current condition.”

“What condition is that?” Xie Lian questioned.

Hua Cheng snickered. “It’s better for my health to look at you instead, gege. You’re a far better sight to stare at than copybooks. Maybe I’ll heal from exposure to you alone.”

Feeling helpless yet amused, Xie Lian put down the brush and shook his head. “Why do you spout so much nonsense these days…? Nothing serious ever comes out of that mouth of yours. All right, fine, I get it—we’ll go with what you want. No more copybooks. What shall we do instead?”

“We don’t have to do anything,” Hua Cheng said. “Just keep me company like this, and I’ll be better in no time.”

Xie Lian felt Hua Cheng’s forehead again. Although he was a handsome man, the way he was whining made Xie Lian think of a red-cheeked child peeking out of his nest of warm blankets in the winter. Affection and tenderness filled him at the thought.

After some consideration, he said, “How about this? I happened to collect something interesting today.”

He rummaged through his sleeve and fished out an item.

“It’s an old book someone threw away. I was planning to flip through it sometime,” Xie Lian said. “Why don’t I read you a few stories?”

The little book in his hand was very old and ragged, with yellowing pages that gave it a strange air of scholarship. Others must’ve flipped through it countless times before.

But Hua Cheng said, “No.”

“Why not?” Xie Lian asked, curious.

“Books like that are always full of tall tales people spun about the other heavenly officials,” Hua Cheng replied lazily. “And I already know everything about their ancient, sordid trifles. None of that nonsense interests me, so why would I trouble gege to tell me about it?”

That was true—Hua Cheng knew all the terrible secrets of countless powerful figures from across the realms.

“If gege must read something, why not pick another subject?” Hua Cheng said. “Your own story, for example.”

That suggestion made Xie Lian chuckle. “Is there anyone who knows more about me, or has seen more of me, than you?”

“Tell me even more,” Hua Cheng pleaded. “I want to hear it. I can’t hear enough about you.”

He was being completely serious—Xie Lian could tell. He carefully brushed away the strands of hair spilling over Hua Cheng’s cheek. As he did so, he inadvertently glanced at the book and exclaimed in amazement, “San Lang, I think this book is about us.”

“Is it?”

Xie Lian flipped through the book again. “It is. It’s filled with stories about the Great Red-Robed Ghost King and the Scrap Immortal. That’s you and me, right?”

That piqued Hua Cheng’s interest. “Oh? What kind of stories?”

Xie Lian was also curious to learn about the tales that common people had crafted about him and Hua Cheng, so he opened the storybook and started reading aloud.

“Once upon a time, there was a Great Ghost King who loved to wear red. Although the Great Ghost King was a powerful man and possessed mountains of gold and silver, he was very unhappy. That was because he was very lonely and yearned for a wife…”

“…”

Xie Lian snorted and laughed aloud, finding it a little hard to continue. “Is the lonely Ghost King waiting in an empty nest…? Ha ha ha…ha ha ha ha…”

Hua Cheng quirked an eyebrow. “It’s not wrong. I get very lonely when gege isn’t around.”

Xie Lian felt his cheeks go hot and kept reading.

***

Once upon a time, there was a Great Ghost King who loved to wear red. Although the Great Ghost King was a powerful man and possessed mountains of gold and silver—more than a lifetime’s worth of fortune—he was very unhappy. That was because he was very lonely and yearned for a wife.

Although he waited for centuries, there was no sign of his beloved, so he went to request the guidance of an old immortal who was highly skilled in the art of divination.

The Great Ghost King asked the Old Immortal, “Where is my wife?”

The Old Immortal told him, “You and the one you are waiting for will unite in marriage upon a mountain. Your wife will come riding in a marriage sedan and wearing red bridal robes.”

The Great Ghost King was determined to find his wife, so he went to that mountain and waited patiently.

Meanwhile, in a place far, far away, there was a Scrap Immortal.

The Scrap Immortal was a collector of scrap, which was why he was the poorest of the heavenly officials; he was even poorer than many mortals. However, despite his extreme poverty, he was very kind.

One day, on his way home from collecting scraps, the Scrap Immortal saw a girl crying by the roadside.

The Scrap Immortal asked the girl, “Miss, why do you weep so?”

“I am about to marry,” the girl replied tearfully, “but I must cross a mountain on the day I depart, and a Ghost Groom lives on that mountain. He steals brides who pass by; only a few have ever been saved from his clutches. I will be taken and killed!”

The Scrap Immortal was sympathetic to her plight and resolved to rid the people of this evil. He decided to marry in that woman’s stead to vanquish the monster.

The Scrap Immortal had two good friends. Because one was ornery and one was petty, they were called the Ornery Immortal and the Petty Immortal.

As they fought each other with their fists, they explained to him, “The Ghost Groom is a Great Ghost King with a very bad temper, and he is very sly. He detests gods. If you attempt to capture him, you will definitely be eaten!”

But the Scrap Immortal was adamant, and thus, they built him a marriage sedan. On the day of his departure, the Scrap Immortal wore beautiful wedding robes borrowed from Lady Wind Master in order to disguise himself as a bride. He mounted the wedding sedan and was carried up the mountain by his two friends, who fought and attacked each other the entire way.

Wicked gales bellowed in the pitch-black night. When the wedding sedan reached the top of the mountain, there was no one left by the Scrap Immortal’s side.

He waited and waited, waited and waited, until his groom finally arrived.

When the Scrap Immortal lifted his bridal veil, he was surprised to discover that the Great Ghost King was an exceptionally handsome young man. Even more surprising was that the young groom was very polite—he was well mannered, gentle, and considerate. He did not remove his human skin to reveal a monstrous true form, nor did he force the Scrap Immortal to do anything untoward. He was nothing like the horrible Great Ghost King of legend.

The mountain was immense indeed, and the Great Ghost King brought the Scrap Immortal to his lair within its depths.

“From this moment onward, I am your husband, and you are my beloved wife,” the Great Ghost King said to the Scrap Immortal. “This entire mountain belongs to me, and now to you as well. You can roam wherever you please. However, remember this—on the other side of the mountain, there are two houses that you must never enter.”

“Why not?” asked the Scrap Immortal.

His groom, the Great Ghost King, answered thus: “That is my secret; there is no need for you to know. However, it will be impossible for you to enter the houses even if you wish to do so. A barrier is installed at each gate, and you must possess something of mine before you can cross.”

“What is that something?” asked the Scrap Immortal.

The Great Ghost King answered, “One house hides filthy trash. To open its door, you must use something of mine found on me by touch—something that is copious in amount. The other house hides a formidable spiritual weapon. To open its door, you must use something of mine not found on me by touch—something that is burning.”

Naturally, the Scrap Immortal did not listen. Although he pretended to be compliant and docile in front of the Great Ghost King, the Scrap Immortal snuck off to the other side of the mountain as soon as he left, leaping and flying across walls and roofs. Sure enough, he heard terrifying screams and cries for help coming from the house that hid the filthy trash.

The Scrap Immortal suspected that this was where the missing brides were being confined. Thus, he decided to steal something of the Great Ghost King’s to open the mysterious house.

But what was the “something” he needed to steal?

The Great Ghost King had a head of long, shiny, jet-black hair, which was sometimes loose and at other times tied up crookedly. The first plan the Scrap Immortal devised was to steal a few strands every day.

And so, he asked, “May we sleep in the same room?”

“Of course,” his groom replied politely. “We are married.”

Thus, they moved into the same room. Although they slept in the same bed, the Scrap Immortal refused to allow his groom to strip him of his clothing. Because of this, the Great Ghost King also respectfully refrained from attempting to touch him.

However, the Scrap Immortal soon discovered that not a single strand of hair fell from his groom’s head. There was not one loose hair to be found, no matter how many times he brushed his groom’s hair in the morning and before they went to bed at night—none on his pillow, the bed, the floor, or the comb!

Now this was becoming a headache. The Scrap Immortal took up a sword, hoping to cut a lock of the Great Ghost King’s hair in secret while he slept. However, the Great Ghost King was exceptionally alert, and his eyes shot open as soon as the Scrap Immortal drew near him. Even though he had been caught red-handed, the Scrap Immortal remained calm. To escape the Great Ghost King’s suspicion, he immediately cut off a lock of his own hair and gifted it to him.

The Great Ghost King was elated to receive it.

The clever Scrap Immortal soon came up with another idea. He asked the Great Ghost King, “May I kiss you?”

“Of course,” his groom replied in delight. “We are married.”

Thus, the Scrap Immortal embraced his ghost groom and kissed him hard for a long time. When at last he’d captured a bit of his groom’s taste, he quickly shut his mouth and ran to the other side of the mountain.

But when he got there, he discovered that this method wouldn’t work—he needed a copious amount of the “something,” and what he had taken wasn’t enough. He could stick his head into the house, but not his body. No matter how he tried, he still could not enter.

The Scrap Immortal was dejected. He had thought that stealing something found on the Great Ghost King would be an easy task—he never expected it to be so difficult.

The Scrap Immortal thought of his good friend Lady Wind Master and thus paid a visit to the Temple of Wind and Water.

“How do I get a copious amount of something that is found on the Great Ghost King?” the Scrap Immortal asked Lady Wind Master.

Lady Wind Master answered, “Hah! Easy. Transform into a woman and consummate your marriage with him. Done!”

The Scrap Immortal shook his head, for his cultivation method decreed that his spiritual power would be greatly damaged should he lose his virginity. Lady Wind Master’s way was no way at all.

Just then, Lord Water Master returned and happened to hear what the Lady had said. “Outrageous!” he barked angrily. “How could you say such indecorous words?!”

And whenever he got angry, Lord Water Master crushed people to death with money, so the Scrap Immortal quickly fled. As he ran, he thought of his two other good friends—Ornery Immortal and Petty Immortal. He decided to ask them what he should do.

Ornery Immortal and Petty Immortal were brawling again. As they fought, they told him some incredible news: because too many people had gone missing, all the heavenly officials would soon attack the mountain together to apprehend the Great Ghost King!

This information shocked the Scrap Immortal, and he became sick with worry. After living with the young Ghost King for many days now, he did not think he would commit such terrible deeds. Perhaps there was a misunderstanding. Perhaps some other creature was the one who had imprisoned those brides.

However, since the Scrap Immortal was very poor and had no status, no one listened to him. The Scrap Immortal was frantic—if the truth wasn’t uncovered soon, the Great Ghost King might be attacked by the heavenly officials!

With no other options, the Scrap Immortal ran back and asked the Great Ghost King, “Excuse me, can we consummate our marriage?”

“Of course,” his groom answered with a broad smile. “We are married.”

And thus, the Scrap Immortal and the Great Ghost King consummated their union. During the act, the Scrap Immortal held on tightly to the Great Ghost King for fear he wouldn’t give him copious amounts of the important something.

“Can you give all of it to me? Can you give it to me many times?”

“Of course,” his groom replied gently and considerately. “If that is what you wish.”

And the Scrap Immortal said, “I do…”

Thus, the clever Scrap Immortal received what he had been seeking—something of the Great Ghost King’s that he had found on him by touch and in copious amounts.

The next day, carrying the something he’d begged for from the Great Ghost King, the Scrap Immortal went to the house that hid the filthy trash. This time, he was finally able to enter.

The moment he opened the door, the Scrap Immortal found many filthy, disheveled corpses discarded inside. Some had already decayed and become nothing but bones!

The bodies were dressed in wedding robes—they were probably the missing brides. Hopes dashed, the Scrap Immortal was both shocked and sad.

When he turned his head, he was surprised to discover that there was someone standing behind him.

The Great Ghost King had come before he noticed!

The Scrap Immortal was shocked. He recalled what Ornery Immortal and Petty Immortal had told him—that the Great Ghost King was very sly and that he detested gods. The Scrap Immortal had now lost his spiritual power. Could the Great Ghost King have seen through his identity? Had he been lying to him all this time?

Angry and hurt, the Scrap Immortal fled, running faster with every step. Yet he ran so fast that he spilled what the Great Ghost King had given him, and he was stopped by the barrier at the front of the house.

The Great Ghost King caught up to the Scrap Immortal and captured him in his arms. He then told the whole story at last.

As it turned out, the Great Ghost King didn’t catch and eat anyone; he was only on this mountain to wait for his fated special someone. One day, he was out on a stroll when he came across a wedding escort party. Terrified, the groom ran off on his own and left behind his weeping bride, who was frozen in place with fear.

The Great Ghost King hadn’t intended to cause trouble, but the bride declared that she no longer wanted to marry a man like that. She left to seek a new life instead of going back from whence she came.

Similar incidents happened again and again, and the ghost king decided that he would stay and test the soon-to-be-wedded while he waited for his fated special someone. If a groom dared to step forward and protect his bride from the forces of evil, then the Great Ghost King would not push the matter further and would allow them to pass. If a despicable groom pushed his bride in front of a monster’s gaping maw to buy time for his own escape, then he would be captured and locked inside the house that stored trash.

Because many of those despicable grooms were wicked in nature, they would often attempt to kill each other. Eventually, all that remained of them were piles of white bones. They were the corpses that the Scrap Immortal had seen. As for their brides, some had returned home, some had eloped with lovers and escaped to distant lands, and some had started their own families with a different match.

The Great Ghost King said, “I waited for you for centuries, gege. And you finally arrived.”

With the misunderstanding cleared up, the two embraced each other. In order to leave the house, the Great Ghost King gave the Scrap Immortal more of his something in copious amounts.

Just then, rumbling sounded from the skies. The heavenly officials had been wary of the Great Ghost King for a long time, so they had seized this chance to launch an attack!

The Scrap Immortal charged out, swinging at random, and beat back a wave of heavenly officials. However, the entire mountain had collapsed from the officials’ barrage, and the Great Ghost King was buried beneath it.

The mountain was enormous, and the Scrap Immortal tried desperately to brace it upon his shoulders for fear that the Great Ghost King would be crushed completely. It suddenly occurred to him that there was another mysterious house he had yet to open—one that hid a formidable spiritual device that could surely push the great mountain away.

When he rushed to the cave where the house was located, he was surprised and delighted to find that the Great Ghost King was standing inside—perfectly fine and whole, and even stronger than before!

The two broke out of the mountain and beat back the heavenly officials who had come to cause trouble. At the end of it all, they sat atop the summit side by side to watch the clouds and stars left in the fleeing gods’ wake.

The Scrap Immortal asked his groom, “Didn’t you say that in order to enter the house hiding the filthy trash, I needed something found on you by touch and in copious amounts, but the house that hid the spiritual weapon could only be entered with something not found on you by touch that was burning?”

Wearing a happy smile, the Great Ghost King said, “Yes. But didn’t gege have that something all along?”

It dawned on the Scrap Immortal. The burning “something” was the ardent heart with which the Great Ghost King loved him.

Thus, the Scrap Immortal and the Great Ghost King happily went to consummate their marriage once more, never to part again.

***

Xie Lian was speechless.

Xie Lian remained speechless.

Even now that the story was done, Xie Lian was still in shock.

“What the heck is this?” he said, incredulous. “Isn’t this adaptation way over the line? No, no, no, this…”

What the heck was this nonsense? How was it appropriate for a storybook?!

Meanwhile, Hua Cheng had already fallen over on the bed, laughing.

“This isn’t right at all!” Xie Lian exclaimed, completely baffled. “What is this even supposed to be based on? The incident at Mount Yujun? This isn’t how it happened at all… It’s completely twisted. And…what if a child got their hands on this kind of story? That’d be inappropriate, wouldn’t it? Who wrote this?! And what’s with all these characters who sound familiar but just slightly off…?”

While the story in the book appeared sweet and innocent at first glance, like a child’s bedtime story, upon closer inspection, the plot was incredibly over the top—it was even more depraved than an ordinary spicy story.

Yet there was a peculiar sort of sentimentality at the conclusion, and Xie Lian wondered if there was something wrong with him for feeling moved by it.

Hua Cheng chimed in with his own thoughts. “Hmm? It’s not entirely twisted—some parts are correct, at least. For example, I certainly do call you ‘gege.’ And it certainly was me who went to receive your wedding sedan. And on the night we consummated our marriage, you certainly did—”

Xie Lian had thought he’d built up a thick skin after all these years, yet he still constantly flushed bright red in front of Hua Cheng.

“How did they know about something like that?!” Xie Lian exclaimed. “A-and aside from that, it was all wrong…”

Although he knew it was normal for there to be leagues of difference between folktales and their factual origins—after countless adaptations and rewrites, strange results were hardly unexpected—seeing it for himself still shocked him to the extreme. There had been several points when he’d been too mortified to keep reading, but Hua Cheng had forced him to continue. How aggravating. Oh, how desperately Xie Lian wanted to beat him up, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Hua Cheng didn’t find it surprising either. “Obviously, someone involved must have leaked details about the incident. Some rearrangements here, some wrongful conclusions there, and a sprinkle of conjecture on top—voilá, there you have it.”

“No more reading rubbish books like these,” Xie Lian said, tossing the storybook aside. “Time to rest properly.”

However, Hua Cheng only clapped. “But it was so well written; the writer’s very talented.” Then, he pleaded, “Listening to it made me feel so much better. Won’t you read me another, gege?”

“No,” Xie Lian refused resolutely.

“Gege, my head hurts.”

“But—”

“Gege.”

“…All right, fine.”

It was rare for Hua Cheng to fall ill, even slightly—and even in the best of times, Xie Lian usually went along with his every whim and granted every single one of his wishes. How could he resist him at a time like this?

Thus, as mortified as he was, he swallowed down his embarrassment and picked up that pervy little book anew. He lay down next to Hua Cheng—whose arm immediately circled around his waist as he did—and forced himself to keep reading.

“Once upon a time, there was a handsome young crown prince who cultivated deep in the mountains. One night, he was greeted by a mysterious guest…”

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