"It's almost dawn, Ethan, you need to find a place to settle quickly. If the sun comes up, things won't end well for you."
I grunted in response. By now, the city was pitch black, not even a ghost in sight. The spirits who came for the festival had mostly gone back, and Elder Quinn hadn't invited me to his home.
"Elder Quinn, maybe I could go to your place..."
"Ethan, I could let you stay at my place, but there's a problem. The sunlight is strong in my area during the day, and some yang energy will seep in. For you, it'll feel like sitting in a steam basket. So you'd better find somewhere else. It doesn't bother me, but for you, it's different. I can help you for a moment, but not for a lifetime!"
After giving me several warnings, Elder Quinn left. There was only an hour until dawn, so I hurried through the streets, searching for places thick with yin energy.
But most places weren't ideal. If I stayed when daylight came, I'd be in serious trouble. Growing anxious, I considered heading to the mountains. My body floated up but quickly began to descend; though I was light, controlling flight was harder than I thought.
"Is flying really this difficult?"
I muttered to myself. Just then, I sensed a strange presence drifting through the air—resentful energy. I felt it immediately and hurried toward it, half running, half floating. It was a well, nestled among a cluster of small buildings in the west of the city. Many of the surrounding houses were dilapidated and seemed abandoned. I approached the well and suddenly saw several Spirit Charms plastered around its edge. I swallowed hard. They glowed faint yellow, and judging by the paper, they'd been there for ages. It looked like they were meant to suppress the ghosts inside, but after so many years, the charms had faded and their power was weak.
After weighing my options for a moment, a sudden wave of fear welled up from deep inside me.
Cluck, cluck, cluck...
As the rooster crowed, I didn’t hesitate—I jumped straight into the well. Instantly, I was falling down the dry shaft, finally landing at the bottom. I felt a huge weight lift off my body. On the left side of the well’s base was a water channel; I curled up inside, hiding myself. Here, I didn't have to worry about sunlight at all.
"Sorry, just borrowing a spot to hide for a while."
I muttered. A chill of yin energy swept in behind me. I didn’t look back—I knew there was a ghost behind me. My hand brushed something icy—it was a human bone. I shifted, leaning against the earthen wall, glancing sideways. A ghost with loose hair was tightly bound to a wooden stake.
One of her eyes fixed on me. I gave an awkward smile.
"Sorry about that."
I glanced at the moonlight filtering down to the well’s bottom, thinking about the Spirit Charms from earlier. They seemed meant to keep the yin energy from leaking out—that must be their purpose. The yin energy here felt different from that near the well’s mouth, both in quality and quantity. Even though I’d become a low-level gray ghost, I could still sense the power. The ghost behind me was like a shadow, radiating black mist. I couldn’t see her clearly, but I could feel her presence.
After a closer look, I realized the ghost behind me was immobilized by a spell—and these bones probably belonged to her.
The sky began to lighten, and the color at the bottom of the well changed. I shifted further back, still afraid of sunlight reaching me.
The ghost behind me peeked out from her long hair, one eye staring at me.
I started remembering what happened before. I was grilling barbecue in the shop—Sylvia, Rachel Lan, and Heavenly Soul were all there. But how did I end up here? I couldn’t figure it out at all.
"So, miss, how did you end up here?"
I asked, but the female ghost just stared at me blankly, unmoving. A powerful wave of resentful energy radiated from her—she must have died unjustly, which explained the intensity. But she wasn’t a high-level wraith; otherwise, this spell wouldn’t hold her. I sensed the power etched into the rune-covered stake; as long as I didn’t touch it, I’d be safe.
I kept trying to talk to her, but she didn’t respond at all. She just stared, vacant. I even waved my hand in front of her eyes—her gaze didn’t shift.
Day finally broke. I kept inching backward, now able to see sunlight. The fear of hell's sunlight made me more uneasy than ever. I was almost pressed up against the ghost, barely ten centimeters apart.
"Sorry, miss, I really don’t know how this happened."
I kept talking, but she stared at me coldly, unmoved.
I had no idea how long I’d have to stay here. I’d become the lowest-level gray ghost; my memories were intact, but I couldn’t make sense of this situation. It didn’t feel like a dream.
I lost track of time. Eventually, the sunlight outside began to dim—it must have been dusk. The fear faded, and I knew night was coming soon. Down here, I felt comfortable.
Gradually, moonlight streamed in. Relieved, I crawled out of the water channel, jumped up, and grabbed the fraying rope, climbing out of the well. I was back outside.
I glanced back into the well and sighed. That female ghost might be dying soon—I just sensed it. She’d likely lost her mind, stricken with Deathblight, a fatal affliction for ghosts. Most of her body would turn to stone, her life draining away until she became a mindless Stone Wraith.
The streets were lively at night, though not as bustling as during the festival last evening. I saw plenty of ghosts roaming, searching for food. Most were new faces, crouching near food stalls.
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After spending a whole night in the well, I felt great physically. Walking was effortless—I could float more than ten meters at a time, and fly as high as six or seven meters, even landing on rooftops. The change was refreshing and I rather liked it.
Thinking back to how I used to fly, it always took effort. Now, I could float and soar freely. I drifted along the street, and the nearby ghosts stared at me in surprise, not understanding at all.
Just then, as I took off, something struck my foot and I tumbled from the air with a yelp. It was that Taoist—Maurice Tong—blowing his beard and glaring at me.
"Are you out of your mind?"
I got up, glaring at him.
"You're the one who's crazy."
Maurice Tong pulled out a Spirit Charm. I panicked, bolting into an alley before daring to look back. Maurice just smiled at me and walked away without a word.
A surge of anger rose inside me. If I still had my powers, I’d have pinned this low-level Taoist to the ground and made him eat dirt.
"Ethan, what are you doing? You look like a lunatic, hopping around the street."
Then I saw Elder Quinn drifting over to me. I gave an awkward smile.
"I just turned into a ghost, so it feels kind of liberating."
Elder Quinn gave a bitter smile.
"You'll see soon enough—being a ghost isn't easy, and the ghost world isn't so simple to survive in."
I nodded, then asked him a question.
"Elder Quinn, what's the story with that sealed female ghost in the well on the west side of town?"
Elder Quinn gave me a puzzled look.
"Mind your own business. That ghost harmed a lot of people—the resentful energy is too strong, and killing her is nearly impossible. So Maurice Tong sealed her in the well years ago."
I didn’t ask further, just walked with Elder Quinn. Lots of ghosts greeted him along the way—clearly, he was well respected in the ghost world.
"Ethan, come with me. Tonight I'll get you something tasty—though you can only have a little."
I agreed, feeling a bit excited. On the way over, I caught whiffs of delicious scents. I wasn’t hungry, but my mouth watered.
I followed Elder Quinn eastward, soon leaving the city. He pulled out some money, and we saw a glow ahead. Approaching, we found a small Ghost Market, just twenty or so ghosts selling goods. One was hawking loudly.
"Fresh human meat! Hurry if you want some—just died today, still nice and fresh!"
I swallowed, catching a strange aroma. Suddenly, I shuddered. Elder Quinn stopped before a burly, bearded ghost dressed as a butcher—Butcher Bill. He held a meat cleaver, and on the chopping block lay a corpse, mostly dismembered, with only some organs, a leg, and scraps of flesh left.
"Looks good, Butcher Bill. Haven’t seen you selling meat for days."
"Hey, Elder Quinn, you know how it is—fresh young meat’s hard to come by. Most of the dead are old folks, not fresh, and the meat’s sour. I didn’t bother collecting for days. But today’s is top quality, died at not even thirty."
I swallowed again, staring at the human flesh on the block as drool unexpectedly poured from my mouth.
"Looks like it’s your first time, Ethan. Tonight, I’ll let you try something special. I want a cut of thigh, some heart and liver, and give me some toes and fingers too—fried, they’re perfect with a drink."
"You think you can eat all that?"
Butcher Bill raised his cleaver and got to work, blood and flesh flying. I staggered back, swallowing hard—not disgusted, but eager.