That night, he chatted up countless girls. Just as he was about to give up, I appeared. The more he learned about me, the more excited he became. Not only was I born in a yin year, month, and day, but even my birth hour was yin. What thrilled him most was that I was an orphan.
With confirmation from the woman in red, Mark Chen’s eyes lit up, even more than when he heard my birth details. He respectfully set me down on the ground and knelt to the side. The woman in red drifted over, a wave of icy cold making me shiver. She placed her hand on the crown of my head and began to draw out my soul.
A person has three souls and seven spirits; her target was two of them: the earth soul and the human soul. Lose those, and you become a shell of yourself. Two white lights flashed in the night. Mark Chen stared, as if he wanted to devour them. The woman in red shot him a look of contempt, then drew a single strand from the many, striking the jade bracelet on my wrist.
Seeing the two lights fading, she didn’t stop—instead, she increased her pull.
Suddenly, a red light rose from the top of my head. I was startled: was she trying to take my heavenly soul too? When the red glow faded to almost nothing, she finally withdrew her hand.
“Go. When the Mountain Spirit is done, I’ll deal with you,” she said.
Mark Chen quickly agreed, slinging me over his shoulder and following the umbrella ghost down the mountain. Exhausted from the night, I drifted off on his shoulder.
The next morning, I was woken by the sound of things breaking. Following the noise, I found my way to a back room, where Mark Chen was raging, shouting like a madman: “Why? Why isn’t it working? It never failed before! That hanging ghost must have tricked me!”
In front of him, a frail girl lay motionless. The jade bracelet my mother-in-law had given me was now on her slender wrist.
The two old ghosts of the Chen family stood nearby, faces full of worry. Mark Chen glanced at me, then turned his attention back to the girl.
He took off the bracelet and called to the ghosts: “I saw the hanging ghost put a soul into the bracelet with my own eyes. Check it—what’s different?”
The two ghosts examined it and replied, “Mark, the soul in the bracelet is definitely stronger than before.”
“Then why hasn’t Annie woken up? Before, just putting on the bracelet would bring her back!”
Frustrated, Mark Chen kicked a chair by the bed, sending it rolling to my feet.
“Get lost, idiot! What are you staring at?!”
I ignored him and turned away. The whole Chen family had disappeared somewhere. I went to the kitchen to look for food. Luckily, since the wedding was held at home, there were still plenty of leftovers. With nothing left to worry about, I needed to eat my fill to prepare for tonight’s battle.
After Mark Chen finished his tantrum in the backyard, he left too. Now, only I, the girl on the bed, and the two old ghosts remained in the house.
Once I was full, I wandered out to the backyard. “So, tell me—what’s really going on?”
The room was cramped, so I sat cross-legged on the girl’s bed.
“You… you’re okay?! Well, of course, someone from the Rivers family wouldn’t be so easily robbed of their soul.” One of the old ghosts muttered, half to himself, half as an explanation.
“Ah, what a mess. We warned Mark, but he wouldn’t listen. Now the whole Chen family is caught up in this.”
The old ghost explained that the girl on the bed was Annie Chen, Mark Chen’s younger sister. Ten years ago, when they were kids, Annie always trailed after her brother. Mark found her annoying and was often irritable. One day, during a strong wind, everyone hurried home, but Mark lingered behind. Out of nowhere, Annie came running, calling, “Mark!”
Annoyed, Mark was about to turn away when Annie used all her strength to push him aside. He said he never understood how such a small girl could be so strong—she shoved him far away, but was herself pinned by a falling tree. She never woke up after that.
The Chen family tried doctors and fortune-tellers, but nothing worked. Later, Mark Chen somehow learned a forbidden technique.
I fiddled with the hairpin in my hand and asked offhandedly, “What kind of forbidden technique?”
The two old ghosts exchanged glances and answered, “It’s nothing much, just finding a few girls with compatible fates and borrowing a few strands of soul for Annie.”
“And then?”
“There’s no ‘and then.’”
I let out a cold laugh and finished for them: “And then those girls, after having their souls drained, became simple-minded, and Mark Chen sent them back home. With the soul ring on, Annie would act normal, but only for a while. To really cure her, you’d need a lot more souls. Am I right?”
I stepped forward, not letting them interrupt: “How many girls has Mark Chen harmed? Where did he learn this dark art? Are you going to tell me, or do I have to make you?”
“Oh, Miss Rivers, we’re just the two old ghosts of the Chen family—we don’t know anything! Even if you destroy us, it’s useless. But let me warn you, this isn’t simple. If you make a big deal out of it, even the Rivers family might not be able to protect you.”
The old ghost sounded almost smug at the end. Clearly, they weren’t going to talk.
“Whether I can be protected or not isn’t up to you, or even the Rivers family—it’s up to me. If you won’t talk, then you can stay in here!” I activated the soul-confining hairpin.
But I still wondered: the woman in red only took a few strands of soul for Annie, so where did the rest go? The girl on the bed was pale and haggard, but I felt no pity.
Every time she lay down, another girl lost her soul. Lately, there had been a string of broken engagements in the city. The girls sent home after their engagements were all left in a daze. At first, people thought they were heartbroken. But as the cases piled up, someone finally looked into it.
Disciples from Cloudcrest Temple investigated and discovered a group specializing in sacrificing others to restore souls. That’s when I started making my own plans.
Before me, Mark Chen had already held nine weddings, all on the third day of the third month, Qingming, Ghost Festival, or the first of October—ghost holidays, when yin energy is at its peak. Villagers would come to the wedding after visiting graves, bringing even more yin energy. Because Mark Chen wasn’t really getting married—he was making a soul pact.
Ancient texts say that making a soul pact on a ghost holiday is to find a substitute for a wandering spirit. The requirements are strict: the person must have a compatible birth chart and must willingly agree, so their soul won’t resist. Mark Chen used sweet words and lavish gifts to get girls to willingly join these sacrificial weddings.
I was the tenth, and the last. But unfortunately for him, every condition for the pact was set up by me. The Rivers family has hunted ghosts for generations—even though we’ve been in hiding for years, as the next head of the family, I have some skills.
Last night, the soul the woman in red drew from me was one I’d released from the soul-confining hairpin. That’s why Annie showed no reaction when she wore the bracelet. I hadn’t expected the woman in red to take not just my human and earth souls, but nearly all of my heavenly soul. Lose your heavenly soul, and you lose your life.
By the time the whole Chen family returned, I’d already woken up. The yard was pitch dark, their voices echoing.
“Mark, what are you going to do with that idiot girl in the house?” Mrs. Chen asked timidly.
“Lock her in the woodshed. Don’t let her starve to death. I’ll deal with her in a few days,” Mark Chen replied.
“You two watch over Annie. Tonight, I’m heading up the mountain again.”
The decorations in the yard hadn’t been taken down yet,The lantern above the door cast a pale light, making the place look like a funeral parlor. Mark Chen lingered in Annie’s room for a long time before coming out, the bracelet in his hand. He slipped it back onto my wrist and was about to haul me away when thunder split the sky. The yard lit up like daylight, and rain poured down in sheets.
I jolted upright, instantly uneasy—rain at a time like this was never a good sign. Mark threw on a raincoat, and when he saw I was awake, he tried to drag me out. I shoved his hand away.
As his fist was about to come down on me, I pointed behind him. “Mark, the ghost that hanged herself last night is standing in the yard.”
He spun around, but saw nothing.
“You little liar! Trying to trick me?”
He gritted his teeth and aimed a kick at me. I swung my arm in front of me and pinned his leg down.
“What the—! You… you’re not an idiot! Who are you?” Mark stammered, panic in his eyes.
“I’m Emily Jiang. Mark, turn around again. This time, you’ll see it for sure.”
The woman in red was already standing at the door. The ghost with the umbrella stood behind her.
“Messengers, why are you both here?”
Mark dropped to his knees, his face twisted in terror. The woman in red said nothing, just flicked her hand. Mark tumbled into the yard and lay there, motionless.
“Violet, let’s go!”
The woman in red’s voice was raspy, as if her throat were being squeezed. The umbrella ghost stepped forward, slowly closed her umbrella, and pointed its tip at me. A swirl of black mist shot toward me. As soon as it touched me, I felt my strength draining away. I hurriedly pulled the soul-confining hairpin from my hair. The black mist lost control and rushed into the hairpin. The umbrella ghost panicked, trying to retract her umbrella, but she couldn’t move.
“Don’t waste your energy. The soul-confining hairpin has been in my family for a thousand years—it’s made to subdue evil spirits. Everything you just sent my way has been devoured.”
The soul-confining hairpin is the Rivers family’s treasured heirloom, and it loves to feed on evil spirits. The more it absorbs, the darker its color becomes. The black mist from the umbrella was formed from countless evil spirits, meant to tear my soul apart. The hairpin kept sucking in the mist, and the umbrella shrank smaller and smaller.
Seeing Violet was useless, the woman in red lunged at me. The room was too cramped to fight, so I tossed the hairpin to let it work on its own and gritted my teeth as I dashed out into the yard.
Night rain carries yin energy, which can amplify a ghost’s resentment. Inside the house, I had a ninety percent chance of winning; outside, it dropped to seventy.
The woman in red grew larger, her long hair wild, the wind revealing her horrifying face. Suddenly, I felt a chill at my back. I turned—countless strands of hair were flying toward me.
I drew my peach-wood sword and slashed them apart.
Those strands were formed from pure resentment. If they wrapped around me, the malice would seep into my body. For me, it would be like catching a cold, but it would still do harm.
The woman in red swept her arm, and the yard changed. The white lanterns and silk vanished, replaced by a sea of red dresses rushing at me. My wooden sword couldn’t cut them all. Gritting my teeth, I grabbed a handful of glutinous rice and scattered it into the air like a “heavenly maiden scattering flowers.”
A sizzling sound filled the air as most of the red dresses dissolved. The few scraps that remained, soaked by the rain, clung to my body and began draining my yang energy.
This won’t do—I can’t let this drag on!