Chapter 2 : Lady Huang (1/2)

Shi Pengpeng saw that he still looked confused and explained, “You’ve encountered a spirit.”

This phenomenon, commonly referred to as “zhòngxié” in Chinese, is akin to being possessed or influenced by supernatural forces.

Guo Jintai shuddered, now fully awake, and sucked in a sharp breath. 

“…I knew it!”

Shi Pengpeng silently handed him a bottle of mineral water from her bag. 

Guo Jintai had cried so much he was nearly dehydrated, so he didn’t hesitate, gulping down two big sips before finally catching his breath and recounting his experience.

It turned out that Guo Jintai was a student at a second-tier university in Xiluo City. 

During the holidays, he had embarked on a “special forces-style” budget travel trip. 

He was originally supposed to return to school yesterday, but as he was passing through Pinghe Village, Catpaw’s recommendation algorithm suggested a short video about Yujian Mountain, claiming it was “the 73rd Blessed Land of the world.”

Although he had never heard of this ranking before, the “special forces travel spirit” dictated that since he was already nearby, he might as well check it out. 

Without much thought, he got off the bus and headed straight for Pinghe Village.

Shi Pengpeng: “…”

If she wasn’t mistaken, that video must have been a self-promotional piece posted by the village itself! 

Not only were they blatantly riding on the fame of Taoist Blessed Lands, but they were even actively promoting it.

What was even more surprising—someone actually fell for it. 

Truly, one dared to boast, and another dared to believe.

Guo Jintai was an avid hiker. 

Though his visit was impromptu, he found Pinghe Village quite picturesque, though lacking in infrastructure—the nearest homestay was in the next town. 

While chatting with the villagers, he learned of a prime sunrise viewing spot atop Yujian Mountain. 

After considering it, he decided to hike up and spend the night there.

Shi Pengpeng: “…You didn’t have to go that hard.”

Guo Jintai, determined: “A mere night hike is nothing. True special forces travelers fear nothing.”

“That explains it.” 

Shi Pengpeng nodded. 

“Walk too many dark paths, and you’re bound to run into ghosts.”

Guo Jintai instantly deflated. 

“Okay, okay, no need to roast me.”

Yujian Mountain wasn’t fully developed, but villagers often went up to chop bamboo, so it was relatively safe. 

Everything had gone smoothly, and Guo Jintai had even captured some great photos. 

But when it came time to descend, things started feeling… off.

According to him, as he walked down the mountain, he suddenly felt an unnatural chill. 

At first, he brushed it off, thinking it was just the cooler mountain air. 

But then, an overwhelming wave of sorrow surged from deep within him. 

Out of nowhere, he started reminiscing about his late grandmother, and before he knew it, he was spiraling—worrying about his parents eventually passing away, dwelling on the fleeting nature of life. 

The more he thought, the more unbearable it became, until tears streamed uncontrollably down his face, and he broke into a wailing cry.

“It was like something possessed me…” Guo Jintai scratched his head. 

His grandmother had passed away years ago, peacefully at an old age—he had already made peace with it. 

As for his parents, they were still in their prime, and he had never really worried about them before.

But at that moment, he was completely consumed by those emotions, unable to snap out of it. 

Not only that, his legs grew heavier, his steps sluggish, until he finally tripped and fell. 

That fall, ironically, jolted him back to some semblance of clarity.

Even though he wasn’t the most spiritually sensitive, he knew something was wrong. 

He wanted to call for help, but not only was he crying too hard to form words, he had lost his way in the bamboo forest. 

To make matters worse, his phone battery had died after the night’s activities—he couldn’t even call emergency services.

Luckily, his physical fitness was decent. 

He forced himself to keep moving until he eventually made it out of the forest, but by then, he was completely drained. 

That was how he had ended up half-collapsed by the roadside.

“Good thing I ran into you…” Even recounting it now, Guo Jintai was still shaken. 

Looking at Shi Pengpeng, his gaze became particularly grateful and intrigued. 

Clasping his hands together, he gave her a small bow before hesitantly asking, “But… why were you carrying cinnabar?”

“And in lipstick form, no less… Is this some kind of new trend?”

Shi Pengpeng was concise. 

“Oh, I study the Daoist arts.”

“Law?” 

Guo Jintai blinked. 

What did that have to do with carrying cinnabar?

Shi Pengpeng shook her head and clarified, “No. Magic.”

Guo Jintai: “???”

The girl before him looked fresh and youthful, dressed in a trendy long dress and ankle boots. 

She seemed far removed from anything mystical. 

So, at first, he hadn’t even considered the possibility—he had assumed it was just a lucky coincidence that she had been able to help him.

But after what he had just experienced, he wasn’t about to doubt her now. 

Still, he was struggling to process it all. 

After a long silence, he finally muttered, “You really don’t look the part… I thought you were just another college student like me.”

“I am a college student.” 

Shi Pengpeng glanced at him and replied coolly, “Our university specializes in this field.”

Guo Jintai: “……?”

Sorry, but that concept was way too advanced for him to comprehend.

Shi Pengpeng was used to reactions like his. 

The general public wasn’t aware, but in reality, many branches of mysticism had formal institutions for training practitioners. 

Well-known Buddhist and Taoist academies had a broad enough public presence that some people had at least heard of them.

Her school, however, was far more obscure.

Not just anyone could enroll—the admission requirements were high, with entrance scores on par with China’s top-tier universities. 

She had studied extremely hard to get in. 

Originally, she had clear career paths lined up after graduation. 

But unfortunately, she had graduated in the worst possible year—when the entire sector was downsizing. 

Now, she had no choice but to fend for herself.

And her major was so niche that it wasn’t exactly practical in the modern job market—hence her struggle to find employment.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on that.

Guo Jintai, after drinking more water and resting for a while, had regained some energy, but he was still shaken. 

With lingering anxiety, he asked, “So… am I okay now?”

“Mm.” 

Shi Pengpeng reassured him, “The entity you encountered likely wasn’t very powerful—it only momentarily clouded your emotions without causing any real harm.”

That was why sealing his spiritual point with cinnabar had immediately brought him back to his senses.

Guo Jintai finally let out a breath of relief, though he was still indignant. 

“And to think they call Yujian Mountain the 73rd Blessed Land! What kind of blessing is this? They’re just blatantly making things up! I almost got myself killed! I don’t even know what I ran into… Can you tell?”

Shi Pengpeng shook her head. 

“I’m not entirely sure either.”

The world was full of spirits, demons, and ghosts—too many to count. 

Though she had been an excellent student in her field, she had little real-world experience. 

Without directly confronting the entity, it was difficult to determine its nature.

That said, there were always clues. 

Different supernatural beings had different cultivation methods, which resulted in varying effects on those they encountered. 

Cases like Guo Jintai’s—where a person became trapped in uncontrollable sorrow—weren’t unheard of, but they weren’t exactly common either.

And the way he had cried… 

It sounded oddly familiar, as if she had heard it before…

Before she could pinpoint the thought, she felt a small tug on the corner of her bag.

Guo Jintai looked up at her hesitantly, his expression pitiful. 

“Master, where are you heading next? Can I come with you?”

His mental trauma was still fresh—he hadn’t even fully walked out of the forest yet, and he didn’t dare to go anywhere alone.

Shi Pengpeng found his nervousness a little amusing. 

Since her business in the village was already taken care of, she figured she might as well let him tag along. 

“Sure.”

“Thank you, thank you!” 

Guo Jintai lit up with relief and quickly got up—too quickly. 

His legs, still weak, buckled beneath him, and he collapsed straight to his knees—right in front of Shi Pengpeng.

Shi Pengpeng: “…You really don’t have to bow like that.”

“Uh…” 

Guo Jintai’s face flushed. 

“Just an accident, just an accident…!”