She adjusted her sleeping position, which earned her an annoyed grunt from Shou Xin.
Remembering the rule to stay quiet, she quickly covered his mouth.
He frowned slightly in his sleep, but didn’t wake up.
Nan Shan let out a small breath of relief, then perked up her ears to listen for any noise outside.
Soon, the last bit of red light from the halo disappeared, and the room, without any lights, fell into complete darkness.
Nan Shan couldn’t see anything.
After a few hopeless attempts to keep her eyes open, she reluctantly drifted off.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t asleep for long before a frantic knocking jolted her awake.
She wasn’t fully conscious yet, but goosebumps shot up her arms.
Thankfully, she quickly realized the knocking was coming from the next room…
Next room?
Wasn’t that her bedroom?
Nan Shan’s eyes flew wide open.
“Immortal Lord… Immortal Lord…”
“Immortal Lord, save me! Why won’t you save me…?”
“You became a god because of our incense offerings. You owe us blessings! Why won’t you—?!”
The knocking got more and more frantic, eventually turning into violent pounding.
Nan Shan was terrified, thinking if they kept hitting like that, the door might actually break.
Just as that thought crossed her mind, a loud crash sounded from the next room, followed by heavy footsteps storming in.
Even through the wall, the sounds were crystal clear.
After what seemed like a failed search, furious roars rang out—not even human anymore, more like beasts.
Nan Shan couldn’t take it anymore and gave Shou Xin a nudge.
He groaned softly, turned over, and tried to go back to sleep.
“Don’t sleep!”
Nan Shan found his ear in the dark and whispered, “The door next door’s already been broken down! We need to hide before they come for ours!”
“…”
“Shou Xin! Wake up!” she squealed in a whisper.
Shou Xin, finally annoyed, grumbled, “They’ll only go to that room. They won’t go to any others.”
“Why?”
Nan Shan glared at him, then realized he couldn’t see.
“Because they’re looking for the Immortal Lord,” he said, turning again.
“Of course they’d go to his room.”
Nan Shan paused, confused.
“Why would they want to find the Immortal Lord?”
“What else would ghosts who can’t reincarnate want?”
Shou Xin yawned.
“They’re looking for help. But the Immortal Lord can’t help them.”
Just as he finished, a child’s cry came from the next room—
“Immortal Lord, save me!”
Nan Shan’s heart clenched.
“There’s a child! Whose kid is running around at night crying in that room?!”
Shou Xin irritably scratched his head.
“Go to sleep already. This room has a barrier. They’re liars—ghosts are the best at lying. If you believe them, you’re doomed. As long as you don’t go out on your own, even if they reach the door, they can’t do anything to you.”
The child next door, unable to get any response from Ji Yue, grew increasingly terrified and pitiful.
His voice turned sharp, each word a bitter accusation that Ji Yue was standing by while others suffered.
Nan Shan rubbed her arms and replied to Shou Xin, “Ah… okay.”
The screaming next door grew louder and louder, nearly piercing the eardrums.
Nan Shan was initially terrified, but the longer she listened, the more her irritation began to outweigh her fear.
She wanted to yell back for them to shut up.
But remembering Shou Xin’s warning from earlier, she begrudgingly buried her head under the blanket.
It was stifling inside the blanket.
Her breathing made the already-limited air damp.
While listening carefully to the noises outside, her mind wandered, spiraling into anxious thoughts.
One especially chilling idea came to her: if she had insisted on staying in her own room instead of moving into Shou Xin’s like Ji Yue had instructed, wouldn’t the ghosts have—
…Okay, that is scary.
Nan Shan shuddered and consoled herself: there’s no way something like that would’ve happened.
Ji Yue would never have allowed her to stay alone next door.
Strangely, she really did trust Ji Yue on this point.
Time crawled by, and the noise next door finally began to subside.
Nan Shan let out a slight breath of relief and dozed off again.
Unfortunately, she didn’t sleep long before she was jolted awake by furious banging on the door.
She instinctively looked at the window—soft light filtered through the thin paper panes and landed gently on the smooth floor.
…Was it morning already?
She hesitated.
Another round of urgent knocking followed.
The sound was unmistakably coming from this room’s door.
It was sharp and aggressive, shattering the silence.
Nan Shan broke out in goosebumps.
Then a hoarse voice accompanied the knocking:
“Madam Immortal! Young Master Shou Xin! Those ghosts are back—we must leave at once!”
Zhong bo?
Nan Shan froze.
“Hurry! If we don’t go now, it’ll be too late!”
Zhong Bo’s voice was filled with unhidden terror.
It was Zhong Bo.
Nan Shan hurried to shake Shou Xin awake, but the kid slept like the dead.
No matter how hard she pushed, he didn’t budge.
“I know the young master doesn’t like this old servant,” Zhong Bo’s pleading grew more urgent, “but this is no time for pride—please, take the madam and leave!”
His voice was cut off by a heavy thud, followed by a muffled scream, then strange squelching and chewing noises.
It sounded like Zhong Bo had been tackled and surrounded by something.
Realizing he was attacked trying to warn her, Nan Shan instinctively started to get out of bed—but a small hand suddenly tugged her sleeve.
She turned and met a pair of calm, clear eyes.
Don’t make a sound. Don’t move.
Shou Xin mouthed silently.
Nan Shan stared back at him in a daze.
Cold sweat beaded on her back.
The terrifying noises continued outside.
She thought she heard chewing—wet, awful chewing. Her whole body went numb.
She sat frozen on the bed, one foot still half-hanging, stuck in her last movement.
No one knows how long it went on, but finally, the outside world went silent.
A ray of sunlight pierced the murky room.
Morning had truly come.
Shou Xin rubbed his eyes and collapsed back onto the bed in relief.
“Knew you wouldn’t stay still…”
Nan Shan looked at the tightly shut window in disbelief.
“It’s morning already? That fast? Daytime is so long but the night felt normal length… I didn’t even eat dinner.”
“Shut up and stop talking,” Shou Xin grumbled.
Nan Shan rubbed her nose.
“So… since it’s morning, I can go out now?”
“Sure. Get out already,” Shou Xin flipped over, annoyed.
“Don’t bother my sleep!”
Even though he said that, Nan Shan didn’t really dare to leave just yet.
She quietly sat by the bed, waiting and waiting, until the room brightened with daylight.
Only then did she finally put on her shoes and cautiously walk to the door.
It really was morning.
Nan Shan looked up at the blood-red sun in the sky and, for the first time, found it oddly comforting.
She turned to look at the clean, peaceful courtyard. It looked exactly the same as it had before dark.
She hesitated for a moment before heading toward Zhong Bo’s room.
“Should be fine…” she muttered, lifting her hand to knock.
But before she could, the door swung open on its own, revealing an aged face behind it.
The two of them were startled, but Nan Shan recovered first and awkwardly greeted him, “Uh… morning, Zhong Bo.”
Zhong Bo bowed respectfully.
“Madam Immortal, what an honor. Forgive this old servant for not welcoming you properly. Is there something you need?”
“You don’t have to be so formal. I was just passing by,” she said vaguely, then casually asked, “Zhong Bo, did you come out last night?”
Zhong Bo looked puzzled.
“No, I went to bed as soon as it got dark. Just woke up now. Why do you ask?”
So the Zhong Bo from last night was fake…
Nan Shan rubbed her arms again. Looking into his cloudy old eyes, she couldn’t help but say, “You look older than you did yesterday.”
“I’ve always been an old man,” Zhong Bo said with a slight bow, unoffended.
Realizing her wording, Nan Shan quickly corrected herself.
“I didn’t mean it that way. You just seem more tired than yesterday. I was… worried about you.”
She somehow made it sound reasonable.
“Thank you for your concern, Madam Immortal.
I am perfectly healthy,” Zhong Bo replied politely.
After a few more polite exchanges, Nan Shan made an excuse and slipped back to Shou Xin’s room.
Only when Zhong Bo closed his door did she quietly sneak out again.
Even though the blood sun still hung high, the newly risen morning in Dongyi still carried the freshness of dawn.
Nan Shan took a deep breath of the crisp air.
She turned and saw the room still piled high with food from last night.
Sighing in defeat, she rolled up her sleeves and began carrying everything back.
“If I’d known…” she grumbled, lifting a basin of marinated meats with effort, “that morning would come this fast, I wouldn’t have brought so much food.”
Back and forth she went between the room and the kitchen, moving food with what little strength she had.
Meanwhile, Shou Xin slept soundly, completely undisturbed.
When she finally carried the last ham back to the kitchen, Nan Shan stretched—and caught sight of a flash of light-colored fabric.
She instinctively turned her head, only to meet a pair of smiling eyes.
“Good morning.”
Ji Yue stood at the kitchen doorway, tall and slender like a bamboo stalk.
Nan Shan stared at his elegant, gentle face, momentarily speechless.
“Did you sleep well?”
Ji Yue asked again.
Still staring, Nan Shan didn’t even try to hide it.
Her gaze was direct, unblinking.
Ji Yue began to feel awkward under her stare and was just about to ask if something was on his face when she suddenly jumped forward and pinched his cheek.
“Did you take a super-strength tonic last night or something? Why do you look so rejuvenated?”
She asked, noticing how the once-gaunt Ji Yue now had smooth cheeks and even proportions.
Not just his face—his clothes now fit him perfectly, unlike the day before when they hung loose.
Ji Yue hadn’t expected the question.
He paused, then smiled faintly.
“Yeah, I took a super-strength tonic.”
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