Ghost Tamer 8
The vice principal had no idea why Ji Ziang was glaring at him, so he could only rub his hands together and smile awkwardly.
Ji Ziang leaned in slightly and murmured to Bai Qiaosheng, “Some things are better left unknown.”
He felt this was already the biggest warning he could give. After saying his piece, he left without another word—he still had to report back to his clan.
Left standing there, Bai Qiaosheng slowly smiled. From the moment he first saw that cat-stealing man, he knew things weren’t that simple.
It was as if his long-held suspicions had finally been confirmed—how could he possibly let it go now?
Since this hospital was the closest to the school, not only had the two rescued students been brought here, but also the other four missing students and even the school principal, who had gotten caught up in the incident later.
If Tang Xi wanted to uncover the truth behind Tian Rourou’s death, the clues they had just gathered weren’t nearly enough. He needed to visit the other rooms and ask around.
But before he could take more than a couple of steps, Ji Fuqing casually pinched the back of his neck, making it impossible for him to move.
“It’s too late,” Ji Fuqing murmured, rubbing the soft skin between his fingers. “You need to sleep.”
Tang Xi huffed in frustration. “I don’t need to sleep! I’m a ghost!”
A hint of amusement flickered in Ji Fuqing’s eyes. “A ghost that gets scared by other ghosts?”
Tang Xi faltered, mumbling indignantly, “Even ghosts can be cowards too…”
As it turned out, even after becoming a vengeful ghost, he was still just a kid who needed a proper bedtime in his poop scooper’s eyes.
Without further discussion, Ji Fuqing took him out of the hospital.
Waiting outside was a low-key black Bentley. The Ji family patriarch had arrived the moment he received Ji Ziang’s message, respectfully preparing to escort Master Ji home.
Unlike his son, the Ji family patriarch had better sense. He didn’t let his gaze wander toward Tang Xi, nor did his respectful attitude waver in the slightest.
According to Ji Ziang’s report, Master Ji had gone to the school specifically to train a shiki—but in the end, the shiki had failed its mission.
Yet despite the failure, it hadn’t been punished at all. That alone proved how much Master Ji valued it.
If he still dared to assume that this shiki was just some insignificant little pet Master Ji had taken in on a whim, then he might as well hand over his seat as the Ji family patriarch right now.
To ensure Master Ji’s shiki didn’t feel uncomfortable, the Ji family patriarch carefully removed all the talismans originally placed in the car. Even the incense meant to nourish spiritual energy and suppress evil auras was replaced with a regular car air freshener.
As he drove, he cautiously asked, “Is ancestor Ji interested in the ghost at Changqing Academy?”
In the backseat, the two figures were sitting close—so close that he didn’t even dare glance at the rearview mirror.
Tang Xi pressed tightly against Ji Fuqing. For some reason, his poop scooper no longer minded him sticking so close.
Ji Fuqing’s spiritual energy was warm and comfortable—so much so that Tang Xi wished he could just become an ornament hanging on him. It was like he had developed a craving for physical touch, unable to stop himself from rubbing against him.
He absolutely hated the cold, eerie feeling of being a vengeful ghost. All he wanted was to cling to his warm poop scooper.
Ji Fuqing allowed the little shiki to stay glued to him, absentmindedly running his fingers through his soft hair. He replied lazily, “No need for your interference. I’ll handle the female ghost myself.”
Even though his words were casual, they carried an unmistakable weight. Cold sweat beaded in the Ji family patriarch’s palms, nearly making him lose his grip on the steering wheel.
He immediately responded with a string of affirmations. “Of course, of course.”
Meanwhile, Tang Xi, already half-drowsy, simply treated Ji Fuqing as his personal human-sized heater. He didn’t even hear what was said.
He had just missed an easy opportunity to complete the task and uncover the cause of death with the help of the Ji family.
Leaning against Ji Fuqing was so comfortable that he unknowingly fell asleep.
Even when he was carried off the car, he remained unaware, mumbling in his sleep and instinctively clutching the corner of Ji Fuqing’s robe, refusing to let go.
Just because he didn’t notice didn’t mean others didn’t. A group of Ji family elders held their breath, watching in astonishment as their aloof and untouchable master stepped out of the car—carrying a vengeful ghost in his arms.
Some even suspected that this was all a scheme by the century-old ghost, who was capable of creating illusions. One elder nearly lost his composure and shouted in alarm, only to have his mouth firmly covered by someone beside him.
Ji Fuqing carried Tang Xi back to his residence, a place protected by an enchantment. For years, no one had been granted the privilege of freely entering and exiting—except for the little shiki sleeping soundly in his arms.
Gently, he placed Tang Xi onto the bed. Instead of leaving, he lay down beside him.
Looking at the corner of his robe still being held tightly, he murmured, “You’re the one who won’t let go… then don’t ever let go.”
The possessiveness he had been suppressing surged uncontrollably. The initial flutter of emotion upon meeting Tang Xi, the suppressed anger when he heard another man’s name from his lips—he had forced them all down. But upon realizing that this little shiki was truly unafraid of his spiritual energy, that he was the only one who could cling to him so comfortably without being burned, Ji Fuqing felt his control slipping further and further away.
So unique. A shiki that belonged only to him. A vengeful ghost he had tamed.
He gently caressed the little shiki’s face, and even in sleep, Tang Xi instinctively nuzzled into his touch. Overwhelmed with comfort, his cat ears and tail appeared once more.
Ji Fuqing’s cold gaze softened slightly. He reached out, stroking the golden triangular ears and giving them a light rub.
Just then, a small paper figure came huffing and puffing from outside. It ran toward the bed in a clumsy, synchronized motion before floating up and whispering into Ji Fuqing’s ear.
It was the paper talisman he had sent out to investigate the little shiki’s past and cause of death.
After completing its mission, the paper figure dissolved into smoke and vanished into the air.
Ji Fuqing pondered for a moment. “In life, you never had any connection with someone named Nie Rong… So who exactly were you calling that day?”
He shifted his gaze to Tang Xi’s slightly raised backside, his hand slowly trailing downward along the tail.
The base of the tail was extremely sensitive. The moment Ji Fuqing’s fingers got close, a jolt of electricity seemed to shoot up Tang Xi’s spine straight to his brain. Half-asleep and dazed, he instinctively bit Ji Fuqing’s neck. Then, smacking his lips in dissatisfaction at the unfamiliar taste, he flipped over and continued sleeping.
That movement completely exposed his tail to Ji Fuqing.
Ji Fuqing didn’t hold back, running his fingers from the base upward, watching as the little shiki trembled in his embrace.
. . . . .
The next morning, when Tang Xi woke up, his back was aching. He asked the system to check what had happened.
Looking at the numerous bluish-purple kiss marks scattered across Tang Xi’s back, 1551 fell silent for a moment before patting him in consolation.
[Nothing much. Just got bitten by a giant mosquito.]
Unconvinced, Tang Xi went to check in the mirror—then fell silent as well.
His poop scooper’s possessiveness only seemed to grow with each lifetime. He had initially thought that in this one, where Ji Fuqing appeared cold and abstinent, he wouldn’t be as obsessed with marking him. But in reality, it had only gotten worse.
Ji Fuqing entered with breakfast, only to see the little shiki furiously lowering his clothes. His expression remained calm—completely devoid of the guilt one should have after leaving such marks on someone.
If he wanted to, he could have easily concealed them with spiritual energy.
But he didn’t.
He was looking forward to seeing the little shiki’s reaction upon discovering them.
Tang Xi widened his eyes and glared at him, which, in his mind, was already the fiercest way he could express his anger.
Ji Fuqing feigned ignorance. “What’s wrong?”
Tang Xi huffed, “Nothing.”
Still seemed upset.
But there was no real rejection in his tone.
Ji Fuqing’s lips curled slightly into a smile.
That smile—like the first morning dew kissed by a spring breeze, like the first drop of melted snow from a towering mountain—stunned Tang Xi into a daze.
In this world, the villain had the highest level of beauty. It was just that his eyes were always cold and distant, making it easy for people to overlook the breathtaking handsomeness that could steal one’s breath away at first sight.
Seeing him smile, Tang Xi’s mind went completely blank, leaving only one word—stunning.
Still in a daze, he was led to the dining table and seated.
Only then did he notice what was placed in front of him—several short, chubby incense candles.
Curious, he reached out and poked one. “What’s this?”
A faint yet calming fragrance drifted up, something that could soothe a ghost’s soul.
Ji Fuqing patted his head. “These are offerings for you.”
In ten years of being a ghost, Tang Xi had never eaten an offering before.
These were freshly replaced, top-quality incense candles—something ordinary ghosts wouldn’t even get the chance to taste. Just eating them alone could increase his cultivation for free.
Tang Xi scrunched his little nose and pushed the incense candles away. “I don’t want to eat candles! I want braised pork!”
Ji Fuqing picked up the incense candles that had been pushed away and lit one in front of him. “Braised pork flavor.”
A wisp of smoke rose gently into the air, carrying the rich aroma of braised pork.
Tang Xi was dumbfounded. Just from the scent alone, he actually felt like he was eating braised pork. Not only did the taste bloom in his mouth, but even his stomach felt full.
Without needing any further persuasion, he obediently picked up the rest of the incense candles himself and watched them being lit.
Each one carried the flavor of a different delicacy—there was even an oreo snow mochi flavor. The layers of taste were distinct, the sweetness perfectly balanced with a soft, chewy texture.
Hugging a few incense candles, Tang Xi was practically glued to them. And since ghosts didn’t have to worry about overeating, he carried the whole bundle out with him.
The incense burned slowly, allowing him to savor the flavors endlessly. He alternated between inhaling different scents, never letting his mouth rest for even a moment.
While eating, he headed toward the hospital from the night before. The driver leading the way was once again Ji Ziang, but this time, there was someone else accompanying him.
A young man, appearing to be around eighteen or nineteen, with a fresh and delicate appearance.
He had been sent by another exorcist family, supposedly to “serve” the Celestial Master, Ji Fuqing.
The Ji family’s ancestors originally didn’t bear the surname “Ji.” Hundreds of years ago, Ji Fuqing had saved them from a great catastrophe, and in gratitude, they changed their surname to Ji and honored him as their forefather. Back then, Ji Fuqing’s name wasn’t as legendary as it was now, but the Ji family had made the right investment—their status had risen along with his fame.
Many exorcist families had long resented how the Ji family monopolized the privilege of serving the Celestial Master. This time, the young man had been sent by the Chen family. Not only was he talented, but he also had a handsome face. While he might lack the eerie allure of Master Ji’s little shiki, he was, at least, human—possessing the vitality that ghosts could never replace.
Those skilled in scheming quickly saw an opportunity.
For so many years, the ancestor had no one by his side. Now that he had finally opened up to companionship, he had chosen a ghost?
If the person they sent caught his interest, and Ji Fuqing was willing to mentor them even a little, it could push them two whole cultivation realms forward.
Chen Sheng greeted them with a bright smile, his demeanor relaxed and confident. Unlike others who became timid before Ji Fuqing’s presence, he seemed different—undaunted, even.
He thought he had made a good impression.
But Ji Fuqing didn’t even spare him a glance. He walked past him as if he didn’t exist.
Instead, it was the little shiki behind him who paused, staring at him curiously while still hugging his incense candles.
With wide, innocent eyes, Tang Xi asked, “Are you very scared? Why are your hands shaking?”
Author’s note:
In Tang Xi’s cat eyes, his poop scooper in this lifetime is basically a walking warm furnace.