Spiritually Bound, Mentally Done

Lin Yanyu wasn’t in love.

She was just… cursed.

That’s what she told herself while making instant noodles in her dorm room with a two-thousand-year-old ghost hovering judgmentally behind her.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Shen said for the fifth time.

“I’m boiling water,” she snapped. “What part of this ancient ritual confuses you?”

“The seasoning packet goes in last. Not first. You’re weakening the flavor concentration.”

Yanyu turned slowly, noodle cup in hand. “Is flavor concentration a thing you studied in the Han Dynasty?”

Shen, floating cross-legged midair, lifted his chin. “I was a court exorcist. A man of taste. I did not consume mystery powder soup.”

“Then stop haunting my kitchen.”

“I’m haunting you, not the room. Technically.”

Chairman Meow meowed and tried to climb into the microwave again.

---

Later, with her homework untouched and her noodle cup half-eaten (thanks to Shen insisting on describing the correct method for slurping), Yanyu slumped into her chair with a groan.

“I don’t get why you’re still here,” she muttered.

Shen raised an eyebrow. “We are bound by spiritual law.”

“Yeah, but can’t you like… hover in a forest or something? Go haunt a nice abandoned pagoda? Visit your old ghost pals?”

“I did,” Shen said. “They were annoying.”

Yanyu snorted.

He paused, watching her with that unreadable expression he always wore when he didn’t know whether to be insulted or… something else.

“You are the first person who can see me,” he said finally. “Since I was bound.”

That hit different.

She looked away, suddenly flustered. “Cool. Yay me. Spirit magnet of the month.”

He drifted closer, his presence colder but oddly… comforting.

“Tell me,” he said softly, “why can you see spirits?”

Yanyu blinked. “I… I don’t know. I’ve always been able to. Since I was little. My grandmother could too. She used to hang mirrors upside down and talk to shadows.”

Shen’s eyes narrowed. “Your bloodline may be attuned. There are few who can perceive the Spirit Veil without cultivation.”

“Great,” Yanyu muttered. “So my grandma was a ghost influencer and now I’m cursed with ghost vision.”

“You are not cursed,” Shen said. “You are chosen.”

“That’s worse!”

He almost smiled.

Almost.

---

There was a long silence.

Outside, rain began to fall. Gentle, steady, soft against the windows.

Inside, Yanyu tapped her fingers on the desk, not looking at him. “So… do you remember anything else? About before you were sealed?”

Shen was quiet for a moment.

“Yes,” he said finally. “I remember… betrayal. I remember the sound of bells. And a woman’s voice. Calling my name.”