Chapter 44: Gan Su Xin

As I rubbed my head and slowly woke up, I discovered I was back at QingSongShu's house. Opening my eyes, I saw Pangzi and Shen Yuan Ning on either side, squeezing me in the middle.

I shoved them aside hard, sprang up from the bed, and then I found I could walk and jump, completely unharmed—even the poison on my body had vanished.

What's wrong? I stared at my palm in disbelief and found the black lines were gone.

Pangzi and Shen Yuan Ning were both sound asleep, so I slapped each of their faces twice.

"Hey, wake up," I said, slapping down hard; Shen Yuan Ning woke, but Pangzi still seemed to be dreaming—no matter how I pushed, I couldn't wake him, so I had no choice but to kick him hard twice.

When my size-42 shoe left the fifth footprint on Pangzi's clothes, he finally stirred awake.

After waking, Pangzi and Shen Yuan Ning both wore looks of utter confusion.

"Where am I?" Pangzi scratched his head blankly, stared blankly at the room for a while, then exclaimed, "Isn't this my home?"

Me: "..." I was utterly exasperated—Pangzi, how dense can you be? You had to stare at your own house for ages before remembering it.

"Sigh, I remember we were clearly injured—how did we wake up back home?" Pangzi knocked hard on his dazed head.

I don't know the answer to that either; I only recall that after the armored phantom appeared last night, I was knocked out by its killing intent. Judging by this, Pangzi and Yuan Ning were also knocked out. But I have no idea how they ended up back here after fainting.

"Could it be... a ghost?" Pangzi blurted out, then let out an embarrassed "uh" realizing how foolish his question was.

The three of us stared at each other for a long time, then, without prompting, we all did the same thing and rushed to my room. Pangzi and I were recalling last night's events, while Shen Yuan Ning followed on instinct.

We pushed open the door and all three entered. In the room stood a small spirit altar, atop which lay a red little coffin.

The coffin held Little Fat; last night's events must be somehow connected to him. I still can't fathom how Little Fat summoned that soaring, murderous military spirit.

Through my spiritual sight, I saw Little Fat snoring asleep inside the coffin. I pinched a hand seal to wake him from his slumber.

Little Fat floated out of the coffin, his chubby little fists rubbing his eyes as if he were still half-asleep.

As soon as he appeared, he gave me a goofy grin and called out, "Hai Sheng, Hai Sheng, I'm hungry." Then he rubbed his little belly.

Pangzi and I stared at each other for a long time, unable to believe that this harmless Little Fat could summon such a fierce military spirit as last night's.

"Little Fat, tell me honestly—what exactly was that armored military spirit from last night?" I took a deep breath and asked him.

Little Fat shook his head blankly, then after a moment he spoke.

"Hai Sheng, I'm hungry, I'm really hungry!"

Me: "..." My mind filled with black lines—was he dodging the question?

Pangzi slapped the table, picked up a willow twig, and pretended to threaten Little Fat: "You'll talk or not—if you don't, I'll beat you."

"Wuu, Hai Sheng, I'm hungry, I'm really hungry!" Little Fat burst into tears from Pangzi's scare, looking at me pitifully.

"Hehe, Little Fat brother, Little Fat lord, go ahead and speak—whatever ingot candles, mountain delicacies and seafood you want, I'll offer them to you." When his first scheme failed, Pangzi hatched another, switching from threats to flattery.

But Little Fat wouldn't buy it—whether Pangzi coaxed and tricked him, or cried, made a fuss, even threatened suicide, all he did was shake his head and say he was hungry.

Seeing this, I couldn't bear to press him further; I quickly lit three sticks of incense and placed them in the burner before the coffin, then scooped several bowls of white rice from the pot and set them on the table.

When Little Fat saw the incense and rice, he finally stopped crying, smiled contentedly, and floated back into the coffin.

Watching his utterly childlike demeanor, Pangzi and I couldn't help but smile. Perhaps Little Fat isn't as simple as I imagined; perhaps my master was right—every commander spirit possesses some unknown ability. But not everything in this world can be answered clearly; to insist on straightening a winding path by smashing a pot to ask until it's straight is pointless.

All I need to know is that Little Fat is my kin and won't harm me—that's enough; as for that military spirit, whatever, we'll meet it whenever we do.

"Hai Sheng, I put Big Pangzi's clothes in the drawer," Little Fat added from inside the coffin.

"Holy crap, right—where's my Daoist robe?" Little Fat's reminder made Pangzi recall that he still had a female ghost stashed in his clothes, and he hastily opened the drawer.

When he opened the drawer and saw the clothes intact, Pangzi finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"What's in here?" Shen Yuan Ning leaned over and asked.

I said it was the female ghost we had retrieved last night; Shen Yuan Ning blinked, then asked me, "Is this female ghost related to the black-clad man (Ou Yaofeng) from last night?"

I shook my head and said no. I explained the whole situation to him, and Shen Yuan Ning suddenly understood with an "oh."

"So you went to the school at midnight last night to collect this female ghost."

"And you—why did you run to the school at midnight last night?" Pangzi interjected.

Shen Yuan Ning scratched his head: "Yesterday after my exam I dropped the 'Doctrine of the Mean' in the school garden; last night I remembered and rushed back to look for it—and that's how I ran into you."

Me: "..." Pangzi: "..." Indeed, a bookworm idiot.

"What is the Doctrine of the Mean? It's a famous Confucian classic, one of the books ancient people had to read to cultivate themselves, regulate their families, and govern the world. Shen Yuan Ning risking a midnight trip in the dark just for that volume truly earns the title of bookworm idiot."

"Right, should we check what kind of deity this female ghost is, and why her lingering resentment is scaring my sister?" Pangzi pointed at the Daoist robe and said.

Shen Yuan Ning nodded: "That works. Lingering spirits usually remain because of an unfulfilled wish or an unresolved grudge. If we can uncover the cause and ease her resentment, it might even be a meritorious deed."

Saying done, Pangzi shut the doors and windows to keep out sunlight, then with a thought he unfurled the Daoist robe.

A white-clad woman's soul abruptly appeared in the room; having been sealed by the Daoist robe for too long, her spirit was still very weak.

As soon as she appeared, she grabbed me and pleaded, "Please, give it back to me, give it back."

"Holy crap, how could this be..." Pangzi saw the female ghost and stammered.

The female ghost's appearance was also quite familiar, yet I just couldn't recall where I'd seen her.

"Aren't you the school's famous talent, Gan Su Xin? How did you end up like this?"

Thanks to Pangzi's reminder, I suddenly recalled seeing her in a school newspaper. Gan Su Xin, our former senior schoolmate, a renowned talent at the school, whose skill in ink painting and sketching even some professional teachers admit they can't match.

But how did she become like this, turn into a resentful spirit, and linger in the art studio?

Furthermore, what is she asking me to return? I only knew her before; she didn't know me, let alone that I'd taken anything from her.

"Please, give that thing back to me, please." She begged me pitifully.

I... damn it, you have to tell me what I took from you.

"Senior sister, what exactly are you asking Hai Sheng to return?" Pangzi interjected.

"That little bell—you took it out last night; I beg you, give it back to me." Gan Su Xin pleaded.

I instinctively reached into my pocket and pulled out the bell I had picked up.

When Gan Su Xin saw the bell, she shrieked and lunged at me, but as a ghost she couldn't grasp a physical object, so she could only watch helplessly as the bell fell to the ground.

She crouched, clawing desperately at the ground, but as I said before, she's a ghost and the bell is a solid object—no matter what she does, it's futile; she could never grab it.

I suddenly recalled that last night I and Pangzi had stayed at school for most of the night, but she still hadn't appeared. Yet when the bell chain fell out of my pant pocket, she immediately manifested and kept dead‑set on chasing me, muttering things like "give it back, give it back." There's no doubt the bell chain summoned her; this chain remains very important to Gan Su Xin from her life.

After trying for a long time she couldn't grab the bell chain, so Gan Su Xin gave up. She resentfully faced the chain, murmuring, "Zhiyuan, what...?"

"Zhiyuan… senior sister, are you talking about Teacher Su?" Pangzi asked her doubtfully.

Gan Su Xin nodded, then hastily shook her head.

"No, no, not Teacher Su; he has nothing to do with me, don't tarnish his reputation recklessly." Gan Su Qin's tone grew tense.

I felt his tone was odd, as if he were hiding something. But Pangzi sensed nothing, and thinking she feared Teacher Su Zhiyuan, he said to her, "Senior sister, don't worry—I won't tell Teacher Su Zhiyuan I've seen you when I meet him in the future."

Who would have thought, Gan Su Xin jumped up immediately after hearing Pangzi's words.

"What are you saying? You've seen Teacher Su—how is that possible? Isn't he dead?" Gan Su Xin questioned Pangzi, her voice rising several notches.

Pangzi said, "How could that be? I only saw Teacher Su with Hai Sheng a couple days ago—how could he be dead?" After saying that, Pangzi turned his gaze to me.

Gan Su Xin also looked at me, as if awaiting my answer.

I nodded, confirming Pangzi's words—Teacher Su Zhiyuan is a relatively well‑known art teacher at the school; I've seen him a few times, so I couldn't mistake him.

"Impossible, you're lying to me, you're deceiving me—Zhiyuan is clearly dead, he's dead."

Gan Su Xin was unwilling to believe us, but after our later questioning we found that the "Su Zhiyuan" she mentioned was the same person we were talking about, and he is surely still alive in this world. As for why Gan Su Xin thinks he's dead, we don't know.

We hadn't even gotten a chance to ask when suddenly Gan Su Xin rushed at Pangzi.

"I remember you, your name is Wang Weiqiang, you once brought me flowers; I beg you, please take me to see Zhiyuan just once—let it be our final meeting, okay? After that, whether you want to take me or kill me, I'll obey you."

She suddenly seized Pangzi and begged, which indeed startled us.

Pangzi is fine in every way except he can't stand a girl's pleading—once a girl begs him, his heart softens. Moreover, Gan Su Qin had once been one of his dream lovers.

"Senior sister, rest assured, your matter is my matter—I'll handle it." Pangzi agreed readily, decisively, without blinking an eye.

I quickly glared at Pangzi and asked Gan Su Xin, "First tell us what's going on; we'll decide whether to help you." It's not that I'm suspicious—this is just my habitual caution. If I can help, I will; if I can't, there's nothing I can do. Before doing anything, I must think twice, which is one of my principles.

Under the gaze of the three of us, Gan Su Xin slowly began her story—or rather, her story with him.