Chapter 838: She Is a Ghost

She saw the whole process.

Dan Heng secretly watched the Rakshasa, the Rakshasa returned a smile, and Dan Heng quickly turned his head to look at the trash can.

The entire sequence played out right before her eyes, lasting only a few breaths, yet it contained a huge amount of information.

Huan Long's mouth corner began to twitch.

She looked ahead at the silhouettes of two men with Huo Huo's watery green eyes, and her mind frantically repeated: these two people are gay, these two people are gay, these two people are cut‑sleeve lovers, these two people are cut‑sleeve lovers, they have no interest in women, they have no interest in women—

She lowered her head, letting her bangs hide her expression that was about to lose control, and her small hand clenched the hem until her knuckles turned white.

Can't laugh.

Absolutely can't laugh.

She is now Apprentice Judge Huo Huo of the Ten Kings Office, a timid, cowardly, easily nervous Fox People girl, and should not have any superfluous thoughts about the subtle ambiguous atmosphere between the two men.

She hypnotized herself to the point of almost deceiving herself, yet the corners of her mouth still involuntarily lifted, and finally her whole face took on an extremely twisted expression, her mouth strained tight, her eyes curved into two crescents, and even a few tears welled at the corners.

Laughing to death, but must hold it in.

The withdrawal after being afflicted by Spiritual Pollution from a cat is still too severe.

Dan Heng suddenly felt a strange atmosphere coming from behind.

That feeling is hard to describe. It's as if someone behind him was laughing silently, trembling all over, trying hard to suppress it yet still leaking a few hairs‑raising vibes.

At the same time, a gaze stuck to his back, bearing an indescribable meaning, making his spine tingle slightly.

He snapped his head around.

Huo Huo lowered her head, her shoulders trembling slightly, looking as if she were afraid of something.

Noticing Dan Heng turn, she lifted her innocent little face, her green eyes filled with watery light, her lips pressed tight, looking like a startled little fox.

"Lord Dan… Lord Dan Heng… what's wrong?" the voice was soft and trembling, sounding as if terrified.

Dan Heng stared at her for two seconds, feeling something was off but unable to pinpoint exactly what.

He frowned and turned his head away.

Then that strange atmosphere resurfaced.

Dan Heng subconsciously scanned the surrounding alleys.

In the dim alley entrance, behind stacked wooden crates, in the shadows cast by shop signs, he examined every corner.

No cat ears, no cat tail, no pair of sapphire‑blue eyes.

Sai Fei Er was indeed gone.

Yet he still felt that the cat‑ear girl was beside him.

Like an inescapable ghost, clearly already departed, yet its lingering aura still drifted in the air.

The quiet at his ears seemed unreal, as if a cat‑ear head would pop out from some corner the next second, saying in a teasing tone, "Oh, you've been thinking of me?"

The thought sent a chill up Dan Heng's back.

Even he couldn't help feeling a bit embarrassed.

He was pondering how to break this inexplicably odd atmosphere when a commotion suddenly arose at the far end of the street ahead.

First a crisp clang of metal on metal, then the shattering of tiles, and then a white silhouette swooped across the rooftops in the distance, moving so fast its outline was almost invisible.

Dan Heng hadn't had time to identify the white silhouette when several red sword beams erupted behind it, the fierce sword qi, even across half a street, still made his skin tingle, and the leaves along the street rustled as the wind tore them.

"Sword qi."

Dan Heng subconsciously made a judgment, his hand already reaching behind, "This person's strength—"

He stopped mid‑sentence.

This sword qi felt oddly familiar.

Cold and sharp, bearing an extreme, suppressed chill, like a hidden current beneath ice.

Then his gaze caught up with the white silhouette.

White long hair billowed in the night wind, Fox Ears stood atop her head, her lithe body leapt and sprinted across the rooftops, movements agile and light.

The distance was too great, details unclear, but that outline, that posture—

Dan Heng squinted, pupils constricted, focusing all his attention on the white silhouette.

His field of view sharpened under intense focus.

The white silhouette leapt from one building to another, and in the instant of flight tilted her face, the streetlamp's light falling on half of it, revealing soft facial contours, the shape of the Fox Ears, even the slightly open lips from the vigorous motion—

Dan Heng's pupils dilated instantly.

All thoughts in his mind exploded like fireworks detonating inside his head, leaving him blank.

All surrounding sounds vanished, the Rakshasa's concerned query, Huo Huo's gasp, distant battle noises, all drowned by a sharp ringing in his ears.

That sound echoed in his mind, again and again, growing louder.

Bai Hang.

Bai Hang.

Bai Hang.

Her hair had turned white, but that face, even the faint drifting fragments of sound, though unintelligible, the timbre—

Dan Heng's heart tightened sharply, as if someone had grabbed it and twisted it hard.

He staggered half a step backward, the soles of his boots thudding on the stone slab road.

Not her.

Dan Feng's Memory had faded by more than half, but the body's reaction would not lie.

After the heart briefly stopped then hammered wildly, blood surged to his brain, limbs grew cold; this body remembered that person, remembered that face, to the depth that it was etched into his bones.

But that was impossible.

Dan Heng's lips twitched, the color on his face drained completely within a few breaths, and his usually cool, indifferent expression now shattered entirely.

Their brows knit into a knot, and the dark green eyes swirled with an unspeakable chaos.

Their expression also turned extremely ugly.

They tried to open their mouth to say something, but only a few garbled syllables came out of their throat.

Bai Hang is already dead.

This is an established fact, an unchangeable history, both cause and effect of the disaster that befell the predecessor.

He inherited part of Dan Feng's Memory, vague though it is, but the outcome of that calamity is crystal clear to him.

How is he still alive?

Or in this very manner, leaping and running on the roof, alive, with flesh and blood.

Fake? Impostor?

Countless thoughts surged into Dan Heng's mind in an instant, each tearing at the others.

Is it the Masked Fool? Or has he been hit by some mental attack that produced an illusion?

But that sword aura was real, the shattered tiles were real, the reactions of the people around were real, the Rakshasa was watching him, Huo Huo was also looking that way, and everyone saw that white silhouette.

It is not an illusion.

Then what exactly is it?

Dan Heng stood dumbfounded in place, lips slightly parting, eyes fixed straight on the chase battle atop the distant rooftop, his whole body motionless as if struck by lightning.

His normally calm and composed image shattered completely at that moment, leaving only a completely crashed youth standing stupidly in place, his mind looping over just two words: Bai Hang Bai Hang Bai Hang Bai Hang!

The Rakshasa stood aside, watching Dan Heng's complexion undergo, within a few breaths, the full progression from Calm to shock to chaos to total stupefaction, and couldn't help but furrow his brow slightly.

He followed Dan Heng's gaze toward the distant buildings, where the white silhouette was moving at high speed, pursued by a black silhouette releasing sword aura.

"Mr. Dan Heng?"

The Rakshasa spoke softly, his tone tentative, "Do you know that person?"

Dan Heng gave no response.