Chapter 2: A Single Call Summons a Hundred Spirits

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Jiang Xiaofei was born into a poor family in Nanwan Tree, but unlike other children, his life began with a mystery—his parents vanished under strange circumstances the moment he was born. On that very day, he contracted a rare cold ailment, making him innately afraid of the cold. Yet, paradoxically, every summer he became unbearably sensitive to heat. This peculiarity caused quite a stir in the village, with people whispering that the Jiang family had brought a monster into the world.

Because of this, the villagers shunned him, forbidding their children from playing with him for fear that his strange illness might be contagious. For a child desperate for friendship and terrified of loneliness, this isolation was nothing short of a nightmare. Over time, he became withdrawn and silent.

Fortunately, his grandfather cared nothing for the villagers’ opinions. Instead of shunning him, he doted on his grandson all the more. Unable to bear seeing Jiang Xiaofei suffer from his ailment, his grandfather scoured the land for a cure. After countless hardships, he finally sought out a reclusive figure known as the Ghost Taoist, who offered a solution—a way to ensure the cold illness would never trouble Jiang Xiaofei again.

The remedy, however, was extraordinary: he was to marry a female ghost who called herself the "Ghost Immortal."

There is an old saying among the living: a "ghost marriage"—a union with the dead—can dispel calamities. Jiang Xiaofei never expected such a fate to befall him, and he could not tell whether this was fortune or doom.

Tonight was the night he was to wed the Ghost Immortal.

A wedding is a momentous event, usually celebrated with grand festivities to invite good fortune. Yet, as this was a ghost marriage, any public celebration was forbidden. According to the Ghost Taoist, a gate to the underworld would open at the village entrance tonight, through which the Ghost Immortal would come to claim him. He was to wait there.

Midnight came, but the village entrance remained eerily silent. Sleepiness finally overcame him, and Jiang Xiaofei dozed off.

Suddenly, a wild wind swept through the village entrance, making the two ancient poplars there sway and creak. In his drowsiness, Jiang Xiaofei saw the darkness tear open to reveal a deep red chasm, like an abyss leading who knows where.

A haunting melody seemed to linger in the air as a woman dressed in vibrant red wedding robes stepped out from the rift.

Jiang Xiaofei was utterly stunned. He rubbed his eyes hard, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Bathed in moonlight, the woman was mesmerizing, her beauty captivating beyond words. Though her wedding robes were conservative, her figure was alluring, her mature grace radiating an irresistible charm and stirring endless fantasies.

It took a long while before Jiang Xiaofei found his voice.

"You’ve come?"

"Yes."

Though her voice was cool and detached, to Jiang Xiaofei it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

"Come with me."

Her voice was like music from heaven. Jiang Xiaofei felt himself walking toward her, powerless to resist. Perhaps it was the Ghost Immortal’s gentle aura that soothed him—he felt no urge to fight back.

Half-dreaming, he felt her warm, delicate hand take his, and together they stepped into the crimson abyss.

Inside, the scene transformed: a warm bed, flickering candlelight, a heady fragrance filling the air. Jiang Xiaofei and the Ghost Immortal sat hand in hand upon the bed, undressed, pulled the mandarin-duck quilt over themselves, and surrendered to the tender world of love, experiencing the most exquisite union between man and woman and becoming husband and wife.

Thus, Jiang Xiaofei not only rid himself of his cold ailment but also learned the secrets of the "Ghost Dao of the Underworld" from the Ghost Immortal. Thereafter, he began a business of healing ghosts.

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With a helpless sigh, Jiang Xiaofei muttered, "What’s gotten into the ghosts tonight? Not a single one has come for a consultation."

Talking to himself, he walked back into his shop and, with nothing to do, played a round of King of Glory on his phone. The match left him fuming—three teammates had quit the game, and he nearly threw his phone in frustration. Still, despite his teammates’ incompetence, his rank rose, and he queued up for a few more games.

"Damn, are they all elementary school kids?" he cursed after several more infuriating rounds. Finally, he was too aggravated to continue. Glancing outside, he saw that nothing had changed—still no ghosts.

It seemed unlikely any would come for treatment tonight.

By now, it was four in the morning, and Jiang Xiaofei, feeling drowsy, prepared to close up and get some sleep.

Just then, a sudden gale whipped up outside.

Peering out, he saw an old Taoist priest in robes approaching from afar, moving with ethereal grace, a horsetail whisk in hand and an aura of inscrutable power.

The old priest caught sight of Jiang Xiaofei and, in just a few steps, stood before him. He sniffed the lingering air, then asked, "Boy, have you seen a wounded male vengeful spirit appear here?"

"A wounded male vengeful spirit?" Jiang Xiaofei frowned, instantly recalling the ghost he’d just treated. Surely this was the spirit the old priest was after. But he healed ghosts for a reason: to protect them. So he shook his head. "What vengeful spirit? I haven’t seen anything of the sort."

The old priest seemed disappointed by the answer. Then again, how could an ordinary person possibly see vengeful spirits? Perhaps he was just being too hasty.

He shook his head, prepared to leave. Suddenly he paused, replaying his brief exchange with Jiang Xiaofei in his mind. He realized the young man had shown not a trace of fear, as if he was completely used to the existence of vengeful spirits—an impossibility for a normal person. And why was this boy still awake, shop door open, at such an hour?

"What’s this? Yin-Yang Ghost Clinic?" Noticing the sign above the door, the old priest’s expression changed dramatically. Shocked, he became all the more convinced that the youth was no ordinary person—perhaps the very one who had saved the vengeful spirit he was pursuing.

"Who are you, really?"

Jiang Xiaofei knew he could no longer hide the truth. With a cold laugh he said, "Old priest, I didn’t expect you to be so sharp. But trying to be clever with me only makes you look like a fool."

The old priest, incensed, retorted, "Even if you won’t say, I have my ways to find out."

"Oh? So you want to try something? Go ahead, I’d like to see you try," Jiang Xiaofei replied coolly. He had never feared anyone—not even a Maoshan priest. After all, he had mastered the Ghost Dao of the Underworld, and there were few in all of China who could best him—certainly not this old priest.

He simply didn’t want to reveal his true strength, and against a priest of mediocre skill, there was no need to use his powers at all.

The old priest was surprised by Jiang Xiaofei’s fearless attitude. He had faced countless monsters and demons over years of roaming the land, living by the blade, and if he couldn’t handle this boy, he’d be a laughingstock back at Maoshan.

Enough was enough!

"You’re bold, boy," the old priest declared. "But no matter who you are, or what your ties to the ghost world, opposing Maoshan means only one thing: death."

"Still, Maoshan is a reputable sect—we don’t kill indiscriminately. If you hand over the vengeful spirit and mend your ways, we can show leniency."

Jiang Xiaofei scoffed, "Your so-called ‘reputable sect’ is nothing but trash in my eyes. To hell with mending my ways!"

The old priest, seething, snorted, "Stubborn fool. In that case, I’ll just have to search your soul myself."

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Soul-searching was a spell for forcibly extracting another’s memories. Its victims might lose parts of their memory—or, in severe cases, be reduced to idiots.

Hearing the threat, Jiang Xiaofei’s expression darkened. "So this is your ‘reputable sect’—worse than any demon or evil spirit."

The old priest’s face grew grim. "Careful, boy. Falsely accusing someone is a serious matter."

"Is that so? I’m terrified," Jiang Xiaofei replied with a mocking smile, pulling out his phone. His gaze suddenly sharpened. "Old priest, I’ll give you three minutes to get lost—or with one call, I’ll have a hundred vengeful spirits here to tear you apart."

The old priest burst out laughing, as if he’d just heard the world’s greatest joke. A Maoshan priest, frightened by a mere boy? Impossible.

"Fine, you asked for it," Jiang Xiaofei said coldly, dialing his phone.

"Let’s see these spirits you can summon," the old priest sneered, certain that no phone call could bring forth a hundred vengeful ghosts.

But as soon as he finished speaking, the still night was suddenly filled with chilling winds, and faint ghostly voices drifted through the air, sending shivers down the spine.

In an instant, the old priest found himself surrounded. Looking around, he was astounded to see ranks of vengeful spirits—each one a formidable presence of the Earth Fiend class, and easily numbering over a hundred.

He immediately lost his composure. In all his years, he’d never seen so many powerful ghosts at once. Trying to appear calm, he said, "Boy, don’t think you can fool me with cheap tricks."

Jiang Xiaofei sneered, "Old priest, you must be going blind. Since you want to see what they can do, I’ll show you."

"Tear him apart."

At Jiang Xiaofei’s command, the horde of vengeful spirits bared their fangs and closed in on the old priest.

"You’ve got guts, boy. The green hills won’t change, the waters will keep flowing—we’ll meet again!" the old priest snarled, his face darkening as fear overtook him. With a final retort, he conjured a gust of wind and vanished into the night.

"Damn you, next time I see you, I’ll turn you into a ghost corpse myself," Jiang Xiaofei muttered, watching the direction the old priest had fled.

"Master Fei, you’re just letting him go? Aren’t you afraid he’ll come back for revenge?" asked a ghostly woman with a greenish face.

Jiang Xiaofei shook his head. "Maoshan priests aren’t easy to deal with. Letting him go is also giving ourselves a way out."

"Master Fei, wise as always!" the ghosts chorused.

"Alright, that’s enough. Disperse," Jiang Xiaofei ordered with a wave.

Instantly, all the vengeful spirits vanished as if they had never been there at all.

Whew!

Moments after the spirits disappeared, a cold wind swept in from the distant darkness, and a faint, chilling melody drifted through the air.