Chapter 48: Why the Obsession

"Asshole! Lunatic! Brat! This is unacceptable!"

That night, Feng Xue, who had already fallen asleep, heard continuous curses beside his ear, yet all memories seemed tied to some noble lady; her vocabulary was truly limited, but paired with her soft, lilting Wu dialect, it somehow sounded pleasant.

Unlike previous times, Feng Xue woke instantly from the ghost’s dream intrusion—not because he’d developed resistance or quick reflexes, but simply because the spirit-binding spell’s contract forbade harming the master.

Entering the dream was allowed, but blocking memories? Impossible.

He stretched vigorously, pushing himself up from the still-chilly ground, and saw Mo Ying still seated atop a large rock in that glitch-like posture, pointing at him and screaming.

Feng Xue grinned and sprang to his feet.

Startled by the motion, Mo Ying—who’d been tormented outside (by the spirit-binding spell)—tumbled off the rock, then suddenly remembered something, scrambling up from the ground while stammering:

"D-don’t come closer! This is my dream—I’m in charge! Even if you’re my master, you can’t control me! Watch out—I’ll make you have nightmares!"

Hearing Mo Ying’s feeble threat, Feng Xue chuckled. He tried activating the spirit-binding spell, but found his weak soul couldn’t channel magical energy in sleep—he didn’t care, instead stepping forward two more paces with a smile:

"You went to all this trouble pulling me in… just to give me nightmares?"

"W-who pulled you in? You came in yourself! Yes, you did—this time, and every time before! I didn’t even want you here!"

Mo Ying retreated while weakly explaining; Feng Xue looked unconvinced:

"I can enter your dreams on my own?"

"It’s because you’re leaking too much primal energy! Your energy flows in by itself, dragging your spirit along! I didn’t want this! I’ve been trying hard not to absorb it, but it just keeps coming! What can I do? Maybe next time, sleep farther away from me?"

Mo Ying was nearly crying—she’d been perfectly content inside the painting, how did she end up with someone like this?

"Spontaneous?" Feng Xue recalled the spirit-binding spell’s text and didn’t doubt it; according to the manual, spirit spirits gradually attune to their master’s will while absorbing his magical energy and primal qi. Ordinary xuan cultivators who raise spirits feed them slowly with incense offerings—my two days of supply might already match years, even decades, of theirs.

"So I really am a natural-born spirit-raising prodigy?" Feng Xue scoffed, but seeing the spirit’s wary expression, he sighed. Though the spirit-binding spell could force obedience regardless of the spirit’s will, the manual said a cooperative spirit was always better.

Understanding even spirits needed a balance of kindness and authority, he finally dropped his unsettling grin, his expression turning serious. The sudden shift startled Mo Ying, then she heard Feng Xue say:

"Whether you like it or not, you’re my bound spirit now. You must serve me when I need you. In return, I’ll provide you with primal energy and magical power to help you grow faster…"

"I don’t want your energy or power!" Mo Ying immediately shook her head. Feng Xue raised an eyebrow:

"You’re getting cheeky when I’m being reasonable?"

"N-no! That’s not it!" Mo Ying shrank back as Feng Xue’s expression darkened, hastily adding:

"I just… I don’t want to leave. Helping you with illusions is fine!"

"?" Feng Xue frowned, recalling the owner of Mo Yuxuan’s description of this spirit. According to him, after the original owner shed her attachment and reincarnated, this spirit remained for over a century without any worship—meaning it surpassed even "devotional power," sustained solely by the inherited obsession of its former self.

If so, she likely didn’t crave primal energy or cultivation the way ordinary spirits did. If that’s true, he’d have to target her obsession.

But what was her obsession? Not wanting to leave? A shut-in?

Feng Xue recalled every detail since acquiring Mo Ying, remembering how a single remark had made her cry. A spark flashed—he put on a mischievous smirk:

"Illusions? Your glitchy nonsense? What help could that possibly be?"

"Y-you don’t underestimate me!" Mo Ying glared, her voice rising to a volume she’d never used even when Feng Xue had been advancing on her.

Feng Xue internally chuckled "Bitten"—his expression grew even more dismissive:

"Underestimate? I ignore you! You can’t even blend into your surroundings, and you call that an illusion? Anyone can spot you at a glance! Pathetic! Useless!"

But no sooner had Feng Xue found his rhythm than Mo Ying suddenly burst into tears—

"Waaah! I want to blend in too! But I just can’t! I can’t even draw! Bai Li is such an amateur, and her methods are useless! Waaah!"

Tears poured down, blending with the ink-wash landscape, as if everything were dissolving— the hard wind-sheltering rock beneath her sprouted moss, the serene river behind her filled with duckweed, and even her delicate face seemed smeared with ink. Feng Xue stared, dumbfounded.

"So fragile?"

The thought arose—then immediately he realized: this was likely the very obsession binding the spirit.

Though obsession is the foundation of a spirit’s existence, once bound by the spirit-binding spell, the spirit is tied to its master; the original obsession may fade—and in fact, only when it fades does the spirit lose its weakness, since that obsession was inherited from its former self.

"Is her obsession… learning to paint?"

Feng Xue recalled the owner’s mention of the spirit’s original form—a noblewoman from a former dynasty’s prime minister’s household. From the countless melodramas he’d seen before his reincarnation, perhaps her true obsession was "freedom"…

Wait…

The spirit clung to an imperfect landscape painting?

Did that young lady truly love this painting so much?

But she shed her obsession and reincarnated within months—while this spirit clings to becoming a mere ink blot visible to ordinary people…

So when she said "I want to blend in," it wasn’t just a complaint—it was her obsession?

Did the young lady wish to enter the world depicted in the painting—the outside world?

In other words…

Perhaps this spirit’s obsession is inherited: to enter the fantasy world within the painting… or simply… to merge into the painting itself?

Thoughts swirled in Feng Xue’s mind. He frowned slightly. Though possibilities multiplied, all could be addressed with the same approach—

"Fine. I’ll find you painting textbooks. You help me in return?"

"Gah!" Her crying stopped abruptly, producing a strange sound. Mo Ying paused rubbing her eyes, peering through her fingers with those beautiful eyes, weakly asking across the rock:

"Really?"

(End of Chapter)