Ghosts

The general saved a woman.

Then he asked me to surrender my place as his lawful wife.

I held the divorce paper and laughed coldly.

“Gu Nianwu, success has gone to your head.”

You may command a thousand troops, but I command ten thousand ghosts.

Without me, where would all your glorious victories have come from?

I have a temple in the human world.

Hardly anyone visits, but one girl came to pray three times.

The first time, she offered ten years of her life in exchange for her grandmother’s recovery.

The second time, she raised the offer to twenty.

The third time, she muttered, “Why won’t it work?”

“Because you’ve come to the wrong temple,” I said.

“I bury people.

I don’t save them.”

Unfortunately, she couldn’t hear me.

She still knelt and bowed, three times to her knees and nine times to the ground, then took five yuan from her pocket and put it in the offering box.

Who had lied to her?

I followed her out, back to a cramped, dilapidated alley.

A group of children crowded around her, laughing.

“The idiot’s here!

Come look at the idiot!”

She clutched her sleeves and said quietly, “I’m not an idiot.

“I’m just a little slow to react.”

I’ve read so many novels about the “crematorium” trope-where the husband has to crawl back and beg for forgiveness-but I never expected to find myself starring in one.

Except there’s no chasing, only the crematorium.

Because I’m actually dead.

I’ve become a ghost, watching the man who betrayed me. Seven days after my death, he finally seems crushed by a delayed sense of grief. In the home I can never return to, he howls in agony, acting as if life is no longer worth living.

You want to know how I feel?

I just stand there blankly, carefully admiring every inch of pain etched onto his face.

I listen intently to his desperate wails, triggered by my departure.

Beyond the desolation and heartache in my soul, a massive wave of schadenfreude suddenly wells up within me.

A joyful, blissful sense of schadenfreude.

It’s a sensation so sharp it borders on thrill. I cover my mouth and begin to laugh.

Luxury cars picking me up at the school gate was a common sight. My roommate started a rumor that I had a sugar daddy, and even secretly took tons of pictures of me with middle-aged men. But not long after, her father was on his knees in front of me:

“Master Qiao, I beg you-please save my whole family.”

What she didn’t know was that I am currently the only Earth Master successor.

After I died, my parents burned mountains of spirit money for me every single day.

In no time at all, I became the wealthiest young socialite in the Netherworld.

Then, things took an even more unexpected turn. They arranged a Yin Marriage for me and sent a man down to be my husband.

Me: “I’m sorry, can I return him if I don’t want him?”

“No,” my Groom replied coldly. “Since I’m already here, you’ll have to call me ‘husband’ from now on.”

The media reported that Hong Kong’s Richest Man had proposed to me. His eight girlfriends couldn’t sit still after hearing the news and sent people to kidnap me.

I said helplessly, “Have any of you ever seen someone propose by kneeling on both knees?”

Hong Kong’s Richest Man personally stepped forward to debunk the rumors.

“You can insult me, but you cannot humiliate Master Qiao like this.”

Gu Lin is a notoriously timid player who survives the Infinite Horror Game only by hiding behind her powerful boyfriend, Li Jingchi.

When a harmless slogan mutates into a world rule and hurls her into an SSS-rank wedding instance, she wakes beside a charred, many-armed entity that insists she is its wife.

To escape, Gu Lin must decode the rules, confront the man who sacrificed her, and decide whether the monster she fears is truly more dangerous than the humans she once trusted.

By the tenth year of failing to find a human skin, I was ready to flay even the old yellow dog at the temple.

Then I met a beautiful concubine who had been thrown out of the marquis’s estate.

She knelt beside my white bones and burned paper money at the altar.

“The Immortal Lady likes the skin of beauties, and I hate this pretty face of mine. Let’s trade.”

[Strong Female Lead + Comedy + Modern Fantasy + Male Lead with Multiple Incarnations]

Yun Jianyue woke up one morning to discover that her best friend was dead… and had become a headless vengeful ghost.

Yun Jianyue: “I must’ve gotten up too fast. I’m going back to sleep.”

Best friend: “…”

Yun Jianyue took her best friend to get revenge on a scumbag, only for an even more powerful vengeful ghost to appear halfway through and steal their chance at revenge.

Yun Jianyue raised a chainsaw and hacked the ghost to pieces.

Best friend: “Where the fuck did you get a chainsaw?!”

Yun Jianyue was forced into a ghost marriage with the Evil God. Humiliated and furious, he tried to kill her.

Yun Jianyue raised her chainsaw and shaved the Evil God’s head.

Best friend: “Where do you keep getting these chainsaws?!”

When Yun Jianyue and the Paranormal Bureau found themselves surrounded and pummeled by monsters and evil spirits, Yun Jianyue raised her chainsaw once again.

Best friend: “Tell me! Where! The fuck! Do you keep getting! These chainsaws?!”

Off to the side, a teenage boy saw that the chainsaw’s blade had gone dull and silently handed her a new one. Yun Jianyue took it and swung it with deadly force.

Teenage boy: “Good deed done, no credit needed. Check.”

With a handsome Evil God on her left and an adorable puppy-like boy on her right, Yun Jianyue had her hands full.

Best friend: “Which one of them is actually your boyfriend?!”

Yun Jianyue: “It’s only two dicks. What’s the big deal?”

My younger sister gave birth to a son in the Eastern Palace.

I brought a fortune in family wealth and cartloads of rare medicinal pills with me to the palace to visit her.

The moment she saw me, she nestled into my arms and began to cry, tears falling one after another.

Her movements were intimate, her voice soft and spoiled. There was not the slightest trace of distance or unfamiliarity between us.

And yet my entire body went rigid, a chill crawling up my spine and sinking into my heart.

Because the face before me, identical to my sister’s in every way,

was not the dead woman’s skin I had sewn onto her with my own hands.