Chapter 34: Food and Meals

I was utterly bewildered—what was happening? I glanced at the “Soul-Taming Rope” I’d recently tied above the doorway before heading out; the three knots were still intact, proving no evil spirits had entered. The doors and windows were untouched. So who had prepared our meal? No matter how I puzzled over it, I couldn’t find an answer.

“Wow, Brother Xi, your cooking is amazing! You made so much delicious food!” An excited voice rang out from the doorway. Lin’er, dressed in a short-skirted school uniform, dashed in, dropped her backpack to the side, and immediately began eating.

I didn’t have time to stop her—Lin’er had already tasted several dishes. Her expression morphed into one of wonder as she said, “Brother Xi, this is incredible! When did you learn to cook like this?”

Seeing that Lin’er was unharmed, I finally relaxed. I didn’t want to frighten this young girl who was still in school, so I kept the truth—that I hadn’t prepared the meal—from her. After a few more bites, Lin’er suddenly looked up at me with a curious expression. “Brother Xi, are you tired? Why are you always hunched over?”

I felt a heavy weight pressing down on me, making it impossible to straighten my back. Perhaps it was just exhaustion from the past days, so I didn’t pay it much mind and sat down with Lin’er to eat.

She wore a white short-sleeved shirt and a black skirt, her youthful beauty accentuated by the city’s influence. In just a few days since arriving, Lin’er had transformed—her pure simplicity from the Yellow River village remained, but now she possessed a city girl’s elegance, looking every bit the young beauty.

As I served her dishes, I asked about her studies, enjoying the relaxed conversation. This was the most peaceful moment I’d experienced since coming to River Crossing City.

Lin’er told me the teaching environment and facilities here far surpassed those in the village; she loved it. Her words brimmed with newfound confidence, and at that moment, I felt my decision to compromise with Bai Ranhe had been entirely right—I no longer resented him.

“By the way, Lin’er, did you give our address to anyone?” I remembered the incident on my first day in the city, when someone had left burial clothes and shoes in my room, so I asked her.

Lin’er replied that she hadn’t told anyone, except for registering our current address at school, as required.

That made sense.

With that, the knot in my heart was finally untied. After dinner, I asked Lin’er to check with her teacher about who had requested our address. Lin’er quickly returned with an answer: Chen Yetian had asked for it. Since Bai Ranhe had arranged Lin’er’s school admission through Chen Yetian, the school didn’t find it odd to give him our address.

Thinking of the man in black who always accompanied Chen Yetian, whose large footprints matched those found in my room, I was now certain he was the one who had left the burial clothes.

My day of joy would become the day of my funeral.

Those words from the man in black echoed in my mind. I guessed they had something to do with the murderous spirit who had come for me that night. Surely, the man in black had meddled, causing it to latch onto me. The entity was now trapped, but perhaps on my wedding day it would break free and come for my life—and I would stand no chance against it.

Fortunately, my wedding wasn’t soon; I still had time to investigate the murderous ghost named Xu Yingying.

Why had she latched onto me?

After finishing her meal, Lin’er went to her room to do homework. I cleared the table, feeling utterly exhausted and my neck itching.

Something was definitely wrong—I must have been tainted by something unclean!

Was this haunting happening in broad daylight?

I took out a mirror and looked at my reflection. Sure enough, three faint wisps of black mist flickered above my brow. Though not dense, it was clear that whatever filth clung to me wasn’t intent on harming me—at least not yet.

I hurried to my room, locked the door, and grabbed a handful of “Phoenix-Eye Herb” from the pile of medicinal plants I’d collected. This diamond-shaped oval herb, when used in yang rituals, could dispel wind and relieve itching; in daoist practice, it opened the Yin Eye, allowing one to see things hidden from ordinary sight.

I dried a few coins’ worth of the herb, set it alight with a match, and a faintly bitter fragrance soon filled the room. Taking the ashes, I mixed them with several ladles of clear water and rubbed the mixture onto my eyelids.

A cool sensation washed over my eyelids. When I opened my eyes again, the surroundings blurred. I turned my head toward my shoulder—and gasped in terror.