Chapter 148

Chapter 148

Chen Zui: "Why not just buy me a burial shroud to sleep in?"

Ao Tian: [He’s got the humor down.]

Le Ziyou was overjoyed by Chen Zui’s words. Didn't this mean Chen Zui not only accepted his gift but was also actively asking for more? Only close relationships allowed for such requests.

After days of being ignored, he was so thrilled he felt lightheaded. He put down the white and yellow paper funeral flower and turned to leave: "I'll go get it right now."

Chen Zui: ...

Le Ziyou was pulled back by a surge of ghostly energy. Confused, he asked: "So, we’re not buying the shroud anymore?"

Chen Zui couldn’t tell if he was genuinely naive or just trying to be cute—either way, he wasn’t falling for it.

In the end, Le Ziyou didn’t buy the shroud. He stayed in the kitchen to cook, while Chen Zui gazed at the paper funeral flower Le Ziyou had placed in a mineral water bottle on the coffee table.

He reached out and lightly touched it.

A faint smile played on his lips.

Just as Le Ziyou finished making himself scrambled eggs with tomatoes over rice, Mi Jin knocked on the door. Le Ziyou glanced at the chair: "Chen Zui, do you still want to kill my friend?"

He nervously rubbed his hands: "He’s my only friend. Can you spare his life?"

Outside, Mi Jin had been knocking for a while without an answer: "Dog son, your dad is here."

Le Ziyou was still watching the chair.

Chen Zui, lounging on the bed with his legs crossed, said: "Depends on your performance."

Le Ziyou smiled happily. At least now, when he brought up something important, Chen Zui was willing to engage. He was ready to crown Chen Zui the soft-hearted deity! He opened the door, and Mi Jin grumbled about how slow he was while stepping inside.

Le Ziyou gently pushed him back, partially closed the door, and lowered his voice: "Remember, be careful what you say once you’re inside. No nonsense, and don’t sit on the chair."

"Someone in there?"

Mi Jin immediately peered inside, looking curious.

Le Ziyou: "No one. Just do as I say."

Mi Jin pouted. Once inside, he instinctively looked at the chair—it wasn’t even gold-trimmed—then his eyes fell on the paper funeral flower on the coffee table, which puzzled him.

"You’ve gotten fancy, using a paper funeral flower as a..."

He eyed the mineral water bottle, unable to bring himself to say the word "vase."

Since he couldn’t sit on the chair, he headed for the bed. But the moment Le Ziyou spotted Chen Zui lying there, he jumped up and grabbed Mi Jin in alarm.

"Don’t sit!"

Mi Jin was startled by the yell.

When Le Ziyou looked back at the bed, Chen Zui was already gone.

He glanced at the chair again, then finally led Mi Jin to the opposite side of the coffee table: "Sit on the floor. I just changed the bedsheets."

Mi Jin sat down, muttering complaints: "Oh, you’re just too clean for your own good."

Le Ziyou brought over his scrambled eggs with tomatoes over rice and sat between the bed and the coffee table.

Mi Jin took a look—it actually looked pretty appetizing: "Gimme a bite."

Le Ziyou almost handed him the chopsticks out of habit, but a sudden chill from behind made him shiver. A flash of insight struck him, and he pulled the chopsticks back just as they were about to reach Mi Jin.

Mi Jin: ?

Le Ziyou: "Go get a bowl. I’ll share some with you."

Mi Jin, not wanting to get up again: "Forget it. I came today because I found us a job. We haven’t taken any work in a while—we’ve rested enough, and you’re better now. But what happened to your chin? And your hand?"

Le Ziyou poked at his rice: "I fell accidentally."

Mi Jin sighed: "You’ve really been through a lot lately. Must be that ghost from the other night bringing you bad lu—"

His mouth was suddenly covered by Le Ziyou’s hand.

Le Ziyou warned him anxiously: "Don’t talk nonsense!"

Mi Jin leaned back, putting some distance between himself and Le Ziyou’s hand. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Le Ziyou was being weird today. Fine, if he didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t have to hit him: "Alright, alright. Let’s talk about the job. This family says they’ve got a haunting and want us to check it out. Get your stuff ready; we leave at 8 tomorrow."

Le Ziyou sat back down, but he wasn’t as enthusiastic as usual. He picked up a piece of golden egg coated in tomato sauce, then put it down again.

"What if there really is a ghost in their house, and we go but can’t do anything? What if the ghost causes more harm later?" Le Ziyou kept his eyes down, not looking at Mi Jin. He seemed to be thinking out loud.

Mi Jin didn’t expect him to say that. He opened his mouth to respond—initially wanting to say there’s no such thing as ghosts, but then he remembered that night. It was pretty scary. If that ghost had actually shown itself, he probably would’ve been terrified out of his mind.

Le Ziyou thought of Xu Shuhuai, how casually he mentioned Wei Zhou falling from a building. If the Wei family hadn’t moved out, maybe he would’ve done something even more horrifying.

"What if the ghost is really evil..."

"That family trusts us and thinks everything’s fine, then lets their guard down..."

Le Ziyou only ever wanted to scam money; he never meant to hurt anyone, and he certainly couldn’t bear the weight of causing someone’s death. Especially now, after nearly getting Chen Zui killed—he’d felt the guilt of almost causing a death and the pain of losing someone he cared about. It was too heavy. He didn’t want to impose that on others because of his own actions.

He couldn’t handle it.

Le Ziyou gave up on the egg he’d been stabbing and looked up at Mi Jin.

"Maybe we should get out of this line of work."

The suggestion came out of nowhere, leaving Mi Jin stunned.

Chen Zui looked at Le Ziyou. From his angle, he could only see the slightly sunken profile of his face—he really had lost a lot of weight lately.

Ao Tian: [Not entirely hopeless.]

Mi Jin: "Then what do we do?"

Le Ziyou was stumped. They had hands and feet, sure, but they weren’t exactly talented. If they got normal jobs, they’d probably only make three or four thousand a month.

He could live frugally—he’d been doing it for all 25 years of his life.

But he couldn’t be without money—his grandmother’s life depended on it.

"Maybe we could..."

He rested his chin in his hand, resting his elbow on the coffee table, fingers tapping lightly against his cheek.

"We can be risqué streamers! You could do the teasing—you've got abs, don't you?"

Chen Zui frowned slightly.

Mi Jin felt a bit embarrassed: "Me? Can I do it? I don't even know how to do risqué content."

So the two began discussing how to do risqué content. In the end, while it was uncertain whether they’d actually do it or not, they decided not to take the job. Mi Jin had been genuinely scared that night and agreed pretty easily.

He'd rather live longer than chase money.

After Mi Jin left, Le Ziyou finished his meal. Once he’d washed the dishes, he returned and reached across the bed until he found Chen Zui.

He climbed onto the bed without a word and started giving Chen Zui a massage.

Kneading his legs, rubbing his shoulders.

Like a real brown-noser.

Chen Zui watched him but didn’t refuse.

Le Ziyou’s massage was thorough—not missing an inch of Chen Zui, working his way down from the shoulders.

"Hmm, broad shoulders."

"Wow, his pecs feel amazing."

"Heh heh heh, eight-pack abs."

While massaging with a straight face, Le Ziyou thought to himself.

"Such firm arms."

"Such long legs."

"Such a tight waist and core!"

Even though Le Ziyou couldn’t see Chen Zui, it didn't bother him. He considered them to be dating now.

He actually had a boyfriend—a so handsome, incredibly fit male ghost!

At that thought—

"Chen Zui! I know!"

Chen Zui looked puzzled as Le Ziyou’s eyes sparkled excitedly: "I could write a book about our story. The title would be—"

He glanced at Chen Zui: "Me and My Dead Ghost Husband!"

Ao Tian: [Pfft—HAHAHA—]

Le Ziyou: "Online novels are really popular, and they don’t need much startup money. Once I publish my story online, it’ll attract loads of readers."

He sat cross-legged, already daydreaming: "Then companies will approach me to adapt it into a TV series, a movie, maybe even an anime, and sell it overseas. Eventually—"

He was grinning from ear to ear.

Chen Zui just thought there was a difference between having dreams and daydreaming.

That evening, Le Ziyou suggested watching a movie and specifically picked a horror film. He turned off all the lights to set the atmosphere.

His phone was placed on a stand on the coffee table, volume maxed out.

Le Ziyou hugged his knees, half his face hidden behind them as he watched sneakily at the screen.

Chen Zui, an actual ghost, lay on his side, looking back and forth between the phone and Le Ziyou.

A sudden sound effect made Le Ziyou grimace fearfully.

When a bloody ghost appeared on screen, Le Ziyou screamed and lunged at Chen Zui.

"Ah! A ghost!"

Chen Zui: Then what am I?

Le Ziyou took the chance to bury his face in Chen Zui’s pecs and nuzzled against them. Feeling less scared, he cautiously turned around, his back against Chen Zui’s cool, solid form—both refreshing and very reassuring.

He held Chen Zui’s hand over his face, peeking between the fingers at the phone.

"Good thing you’re not like the ghosts in there."

If Chen Zui were all bloody like that, he’d really—just die.

"How many years have you been a ghost?"

Even if Chen Zui didn’t answer, Le Ziyou kept talking anyway. He fiddled with Chen Zui’s fingers: "Then… over the years, how many people’s yang energy have you absorbed?"

He pursed his lips, waiting for Chen Zui’s reply.

The thought of how Chen Zui absorbed yang energy—if he’d done it to others too—made him feel jealous.

Another sudden sound effect made Le Ziyou shudder, pressing closer still into Chen Zui’s embrace, holding on tight.

Chen Zui still didn’t answer, his gaze fixed on a sticking-up strand of hair on the back of Le Ziyou’s head.

Soon after, Le Ziyou started moving around again.

He was sneakily rubbing against him.

It took Le Ziyou a moment to notice—being this close to Chen Zui, in this position.

He was leaning against Chen Zui’s…

It made him think of that night, the unfinished encounter. The more he thought, the more turned on he became; the horror movie didn’t even feel scary anymore.

Even though it was cut short, the first half had been amazing! It was uncomfortable at first, but he quickly got used to it.

After all, he was a 25-year-old full of youthful energy, experiencing desire for the first time—and only halfway through.

The more Le Ziyou thought about it, the more he wanted it.

Though he was still staring at the phone, his squirming became more noticeable.

But nothing's happening…

Why does Chen Zui’s equipment work sometimes and not others…

Le Ziyou thought it might need some encouragement. He thought about it.

Then reached under the bed.

Xu Shuhuai, stuffed under the bed, looked completely defeated and beyond caring.

Le Ziyou felt around for and pulled out the peach wood sword, presenting it eagerly, like he was presenting a prized possession.

“Chen Zui, hit me with this.”

Chen Zui: ?

Le Ziyou shoved the peach wood sword into Chen Zui’s hand, then laid himself face-down by the head of the bed.

“Hit me hard.”

“Take all your anger out on me.”

He turned his head toward Chen Zui’s direction: “You can beat me half to death if needed, and then we can properly be together.”