Ghosts

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.

Chapter 0

After my Taoist temple went bankrupt, I opened a Haunted House.

Every ghost inside was personally captured by me.

Until today.

A tourist grabbed one of my ghost NPCs and wailed:

“Mom! I missed you so much, Mom!”

Oh no!!!

I paint faces for the dead and open The Door for the living.

After the Prime Minister’s Daughter met a sudden, violent end, I painted the last thing she ever saw.

Three months later, that very face smiled at me from a crowded street.

Later, when the Grand Princess lay within her coffin, she reached out and gripped my brush. “Don’t paint me,” she whispered. “Paint yourself.”

I am the most ferocious, terrifying entity in the horror movie world.

I had finally saved up enough points to visit the daughter I once had.

But when I found her, she had already been adopted into a wealthy family.

Bullet comments drifted across the air:

“Just a few of them, and the female lead takes them all with a smile.”

“What have they turned her into? She went from fighting for her life to crying and begging for it.”

“To be fair, she’s pretty unlucky. She ended up crossing these rich brats who aren’t afraid of anything.”

I looked at my daughter, clutching her backpack and trembling slightly, and the group of boys surrounding her.

They aren’t afraid of anything? I wonder if that includes ghosts.

[Does Chinese Taoist magic work on foreign ghosts?]

[I have no idea. I’m on my way to a cemetery castle right now. I’ll let you all know when I get back.]

My reply to the post was voted to the top of the comments.

Everyone said I was bragging, but what they didn’t know was that I am the sole Earth Master successor.

And the thing inside that British Castle is far more terrifying than any ghost.

The first time I went out on a long-haul run with my Master, I suddenly heard someone calling my name in the middle of the night.

The voice made my heart race.

I leaned against the window to look out, but my Master suddenly yanked me back!

He rolled down the window with lightning speed and spat his cigarette butt out with a fierce flick.

Then, pointing at the pitch-black road outside, he let out a torrent of creative curses!

I was young back then and had no idea who he was yelling at.

I could only curl up in the passenger seat like a shrimp, not daring to make a sound.

Later, I spent over ten years driving long-haul trucks on my own.

I never again encountered a situation where someone called my name in the dead of night.

Until three days ago, when I suddenly received word that my Master had passed away.

During an intimate moment, I accidentally scratched the tattoo on my boyfriend’s back, and he suddenly flew into a rage.

Feeling deeply wronged, I went to an emotional support livestream that night to talk about what happened.

The audience chimed in one after another to defend me, suspecting that my boyfriend’s feelings for me had changed.

Only the Host asked with a dead-serious expression:

“That tattoo on your boyfriend’s back-is it a bottle?”

During filming, the female lead intentionally shattered my Jadeite Earring, the one that never left my side.

My face turned deathly pale as I gasped. My Best Actor boyfriend, however, urged me to be magnanimous.

But no one saw the Companion Greed Maiden, sealed for five years, whispering in my ear: “Whose fortune shall we take first?”

It has been ten years since I died.

After a decade, I have finally seen the first person to come and pay their respects at my grave.

It is a man, limping as he walks toward me.

It is my father.

After I was diagnosed with stomach cancer, I bought three necklaces and hid them in three different places.

“Honey, this is my favorite necklace. Make sure you burn one for me every year on the anniversary of my death, okay?”

With that one sentence, I put a leash on that mad dog Shen Ci.

It made him give up on jumping off a building and throw away the sleeping pills.

Clinging to that promise, he endured year after year.

Until a young girl appeared by Shen Ci’s side. She was innocent and kind, like a warm little sun.

Shen Ci moved out of our marital home and sent away the puppy I had raised.

By the third anniversary of my death, Shen Ci didn’t come.

I slipped into his dream and put on my cutest act.

“Honey, you’re such a dummy. You still haven’t found this year’s necklace.”

Shen Ci, who had always chattered endlessly at me, was strangely silent now.

After a long time, he finally said, “Qingqing, it’s been three years. I need to start a new life too.”