Starving Ghost
Lu Congxing picked up the small Bai Ze and asked, “You said before that you came here to find someone. Who exactly are you looking for?”
The furball raised a paw and pointed at the eerie and sinister mountain god depicted on the mural.
Although Lu Congxing had already suspected as much, confirming it still left him with complicated feelings.
He hadn’t expected He Zhouyan to have any connection with such a malevolent mountain god.
With no one else around, He Zhouyan simply canceled his illusionary form.
The man had a strong waist and abdomen, his tailored suit wrapped his long legs. Every casual movement exuded a potent, masculine allure.
He was extremely close to Lu Congxing, and his innate sense of oppression made him almost merge into the surrounding darkness.
Uncomfortable, Lu Congxing took a step back. “What if someone sees you?”
Seeing Bai Ze shift from a round furball back into human form, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.
He Zhouyan was indifferent. Unlike his cold exterior, his actions carried an untamed arrogance—human feelings had never factored into his considerations.
More than worrying about being seen, he was more concerned about any misunderstanding from the cub. Lowering his voice, he explained, “I have a grudge against the mountain god here. I originally came to settle the score, but it turns out he’s no longer here.”
He had probably slipped away again, hiding somewhere.
Lu Congxing’s eyes widened slightly. “He’s not here?”
The cub’s wide, round apricot eyes were too adorable. He wanted to reach out and touch them.
He Zhouyan rubbed his fingers together, but his expression grew more serious. “Yes. Which means what you just saw on the mural wasn’t actually him, and the villagers aren’t worshipping him either. Instead… they’re worshipping something else, something merely wearing the guise of a mountain god.”
Just then, an eerie, ill-timed laughter rang out.
“Hee-hee-hee… hee-hee-hee…”
Lu Congxing abruptly turned his head toward the wall where the sound had come from—only to see the “mountain god” on the mural… laughing.
As if coming to life, all the murals began to move. The tiny figures on them echoed with their own sinister giggles.
They chattered noisily, singing an unintelligible nursery rhyme.
When Lu Congxing reached out his hand, they scattered in a panic.
The simple lines on the murals outlined faces—grinning, yet somehow mournful—each one eerily unsettling.
The moment his fingers touched the mural, the surface unexpectedly caved in. Instead of cold stone, it felt warm… disturbingly like human flesh.
Lu Congxing recoiled in disgust. “This mural… it’s soft?”
He had originally thought the villagers had painted it, but since they, too, had been deceived by their so-called “mountain god,” it seemed this mural had nothing to do with them.
Summoning a ghostly blue flame, he attempted to burn away the illusion cloaking the mural.
As the flames drew closer, the wall trembled as if it were alive. It turned a fleshy pink, writhing as it devoured the mural’s surface entirely. In its place, countless tiny holes appeared.
The holes gradually took shape… transforming into eyes, noses, mouths—until they became human faces.
The faces struggled desperately, pushing forward as if trying to break free from the wall.
Lu Congxing recognized them.
The village chief, Tian Rourou, the villagers—every single one of them was embedded in the wall.
This was merely the physical manifestation of their agony. Their souls had already been devoured by the “mountain god.”
Lu Congxing withdrew his flames and ignored the tormented faces on the mural.
He was going to find that so-called “mountain god.”
Following the path the small flame had taken earlier, he soon reached the deepest part of the cave—where an unexpected sight awaited him.
A lake.
The skeletal remains piled high on the lake formed a small hill.
They were the bones of people who had been lured into the mountains, their corpses soaked in the icy waters day and night until they became something evil.
Atop the heap of bones sat a massive, grotesquely fat figure, its back turned toward them. Rolls of flesh layered its bloated belly as it devoured something with delight.
Only when it heard their approaching footsteps did it finally turn around.
It was a ghost with the bloated face of a pig, its entire body oozing rancid, greasy filth. In its hands, it clutched a length of intestines, tearing at them and gnawing hungrily.
A chilling realization struck him—Chen Xiangxiang’s missing organs had finally been found.
They were now inside this ghost’s stomach.
Scattered on the ground were tattered clothes. Lu Congxing recognized them immediately—they belonged to Wang Xing and the others who had left.
It was likely that the thing this ghost had just been feasting on was one of the crew who ignored the warnings and tried to leave the village.
So this so-called “mountain god,” the one who was said to bring protection and bountiful harvests, was nothing more than a ghost. No wonder the village and the mountains reeked of an eerie, ominous energy that felt out of place.
All the ominous energy emanated from this ghost.
A starving ghost.
It had grown so fat that its eyes were squeezed into thin slits, almost making Lu Congxing mistake its species.
A starving ghost could only feel full by consuming human flesh, eating any other food left them tormented by constant hunger. Their bodies were originally thin and frail, with bones clearly visible—calling them “skin and bones” was no exaggeration. They had large heads, small bodies, and a withered physique. The only way for them to escape this appearance was by continuously devouring human flesh and souls.
But Lu Congxing had never seen a starving ghost this grotesquely obese before.
Who knew how many lives it had devoured while lurking here?
The moment the ghost laid eyes on Lu Congxing, its first reaction was to drool uncontrollably. When it opened its mouth, a putrid yellow liquid dripped out.
“Hungry… So, so delicious… food…”
These kinds of ghosts weren’t very intelligent. Their only instinct was to seek out food.
Even though it was clearly afraid of He Zhouyan standing beside him, its hunger overpowered its fear. The starving ghost greedily stretched out its arms toward Lu Congxing, grasping at the air.
The intestines it had been treating like a precious delicacy were discarded into the lake like useless trash.
The moment they hit the water, bubbles gurgled to the surface, swallowing the remains in an instant.
That was when Lu Congxing realized—this was no ordinary lake. The water inside was thick and alive, shifting unnaturally.
The villagers in the murals had been drinking this very liquid.
Suddenly, the starving ghost’s outstretched hands produced sacks of rice and flour from thin air.
It tossed them into the lake. When that failed to provoke a reaction, the food transformed into gold and silver treasures, shimmering as they piled up.
“Hung… Hungry…”
He Zhouyan chuckled softly. “It’s trying to lure you in with food.”
Though he was smiling, his gaze grew colder and heavier.
If he weren’t worried about upsetting the cub, he would’ve crushed this pathetic ghost the moment it dared to set its sights on him.
The starving ghost initially established a contractual relationship with the villagers through food. He was originally just an ordinary starving ghost wandering in the wilderness. One day, however, he was accidentally drawn into the mountain god’s statue during a mistaken sacrificial ritual performed by the villagers.
With its newfound strange abilities, it began enticing the greedy-hearted villagers.
The villagers thought they were worshiping a benevolent mountain god.
In truth, the real god had long since disappeared, leaving only a lone, hungry ghost in its place.
The starving ghost couldn’t understand why that delicious-smelling food remained unmoved. After all, every other piece of food would eagerly rush forward, overwhelmed with gratitude as it accepted his offering—only to be devoured in the end.
He let out a vicious roar at the people below, his long nails transforming into terrifying blades, as if he intended to tear them apart like a slab of steak.
Lu Congxing’s gaze turned cold. His once youthful face took on an air of brilliance under the sudden surge of power, and the sharpness he had long kept hidden erupted in full force at that moment.
Sparks flickered around him, growing into roaring flames that encircled the black-haired boy like a celestial dance.
The flames exuded a murderous aura, yet the figure at the center remained completely still. His gaze on the starving ghost was devoid of emotion, as if he were merely looking at a lifeless object. Then, a powerful and overwhelming spiritual energy burst forth, no longer gentle and harmless but as sharp as a blade. It spread throughout the entire cave, dominating the space with an undeniable battle intent.
He Zhouyan had never seen this side of Lu Congxing before. It was a stark contrast to the fragile, cub-like image he had in his mind—the one that needed protection. The spiritual energy radiating from the boy in this moment was no less than that of a high-ranking demon. And to think, this was merely an eighteen-year-old cub. It was terrifying to imagine how powerful he would become in the future.
Even He Zhouyan’s own spiritual energy was stirring restlessly, itching to rush forward and intertwine with the boy’s domineering yet pure energy. This kind of raw, untainted power was irresistibly alluring to him.
But he held himself back, choosing instead to stand quietly on the sidelines and observe the battle.
Or rather, the one-sided massacre.
The starving ghost’s yin energy was utterly overwhelmed, crushed into insignificance beneath the immense spiritual energy.
Suddenly, flames ignited around the starving ghost, scorching him until he let out agonized screams. His bloated body, made sluggish from excessive indulgence, rolled uncontrollably down the terrain.
What no one expected was that the lake below showed no distinction between friend or foe. Such an enormous ghost plunged into the water without causing even a ripple. Instead, it was swallowed whole in an instant.
A ghost that had devoured countless people and cultivated immense power—just like that, it was consumed by the lake.
Lu Congxing frowned slightly and withdrew his flames, returning to his usual harmless demeanor.
Only He Zhouyan, who had silently watched everything unfold, knew just how dazzling and formidable the soul hidden beneath that gentle exterior truly was.
Like an unpolished gem already beginning to shine.
Unaware of the thoughtful gaze behind him, Lu Congxing stepped forward, wanting to take a closer look at the lake.
But when he looked down, all he could see was an endless abyss of darkness.
And at that moment, an eerie chill rose from the depths of the lake, slowly coiling around him. It seeped into his bones, a creeping coldness that made him shudder in discomfort.
His pure spiritual energy rejected such filth.
“This was left behind by the mountain god.” He Zhouyan finally moved, reaching out to prevent the overly curious cub from falling into the lake. “He stole this strange lake from the Southern Abyss. The Bureau of Supernatural Affairs asked me to bring this lake back.”
The moment the man’s hand touched the cub, all the surrounding ominous energy dissipated, and the discomfort brought by the lake water vanished completely.
Lu Congxing squinted his eyes in comfort and obediently stepped back, letting out a soft “Oh.” He pointed to another opening in the space. “Could Gu Hanyin have been sent there?”
He Zhouyan took out a golden bell and absorbed the strange lake into it. Hearing the question, he responded indifferently with a vague “Mm.”
Lu Congxing could tell that He Zhouyan didn’t seem particularly eager to find Gu Hanyin. “Why don’t you head back first? I can go look for him on my own.”
He Zhouyan’s brows immediately furrowed tightly. “Hmm? Are you afraid of being seen with me?”
Lu Congxing was baffled by how the man came to that conclusion. His expression was filled with confusion. “No, that’s not—”
“Then let’s go.”
Before Lu Congxing could fully process the situation, he was already being led away. By the time he realized it, they had walked a long distance.
The once-hated Bai Ze had gradually become a blurry memory over the past few days. Without even noticing it himself, Lu Congxing no longer felt the initial resistance toward He Zhouyan.
Perhaps it was because he had gotten used to holding the small Bai Ze and the spiritual energy surrounding him. Standing next to He Zhouyan now, he inexplicably felt at ease.
It was as if He Zhouyan had been deliberately closing the distance between them step by step, watching as his clueless little prey gradually lowered his guard.
In the end, they found Gu Hanyin in a secluded corner. After falling into the pit, he had been directly transported here. Fortunately, he hadn’t wandered around aimlessly, or he might have been devoured by the starving ghost before they could even find him.
Lu Congxing reached out his hand. “Everything’s been taken care of. Let’s just wait for the rescue team to arrive.”
Just as Gu Hanyin was about to take his hand, He Zhouyan cut in and pulled him up first, completely bypassing Lu Congxing.
With a cold expression, he said, “Let’s go.”
Gu Hanyin’s face didn’t look great either. His hand was gripped so tightly that it hurt, but he didn’t want to lose face in front of the young man, so he swallowed back his pained grunt.
Turning his head slightly, he asked Lu Congxing, “Who is this guy?”
There was something familiar about him, but he couldn’t recall his name.
Lu Congxing awkwardly made up a lie. “He’s my friend. He couldn’t reach me for the past two days and got so anxious that he came looking for me himself.”
Gu Hanyin didn’t ask any further, though it was unclear whether he believed it or not.
With a slightly weird atmosphere hanging between them, they finally made their way back to the village.
Author’s Note:
Xing Cub is actually a violent little cub.