Chapter 9: Volunteering Himself¹

After thinking it over, Can He had to admit that Xie Suoyan made a fair point.

Rather than asking other ghosts, why not go straight to Qi Jiangyuan?

Who else would know his own situation better than he did?

Since this involved the Ghost King’s privacy, Can He carefully drafted what he wanted to say and only approached him cautiously just before dinner.

But the moment he saw Qi Jiangyuan, all the lines Little Radish had prepared got stuck in his throat.

Qi Jiangyuan tilted his head slightly and looked over. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” Can He mumbled, his fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of his robe. “I just noticed that all the other ghosts in Wujian Prison have Spirit Tablets², but I’ve never seen yours…”

Qi Jiangyuan raised an eyebrow. “Why ask that all of a sudden?”

Seeing that he wasn’t angry, Can He grew bolder. “I was just wondering… could your illness be related to that? I’m here to treat Your Highness’s illness, after all. Naturally, I should help resolve all your ailments.”

Qi Jiangyuan couldn’t help but chuckle. He reached out and pinched Can He’s soft cheek. “But, Doctor, I haven’t even paid you for the last treatment.”

Can He froze. Oh, right.

Qi Jiangyuan had barely delivered the promised sunlight and soil, and the Sweet Spring was still nowhere to be seen.

Can He immediately turned a little fierce. “So when are you going to pay up?”

Qi Jiangyuan replied with a smile in his voice, “Soon, I imagine.”

Soon?

He hadn’t even seen a drop of water yet—what part of that was “soon”?

But it didn’t really matter.

“No worries, I’m pretty kind-hearted,” Can He said, lifting his chin. “I can treat you first. You can pay me later.”

He was the Ghost King, after all—surely he wouldn’t skip out on a debt.

And if it came to it, Qi Jiangyuan himself wouldn’t be a bad form of payment.

After all, who wouldn’t want a ghost that could aid their cultivation? What did the Human Realm call that again—Dual Cultivation partner? Furnace?

Neither sounded quite right.

Qi Jiangyuan lowered his gaze and took hold of Can He’s wrist, his fingertips unconsciously brushing over that smooth skin. “It is related.”

Can He blinked, seizing the moment to ask, “Is it because… no one collected your body or set up a Spirit Tablet for you?”

Qi Jiangyuan asked, “Did you guess that yourself, or did someone tell you?”

Can He would never rat out Xie Suoyan, so he said, “No one told me.”

Qi Jiangyuan chuckled softly and didn’t press him. “Not a bad guess. I’m just a wandering ghost with no one to honor me.”

“Can’t you set up a Spirit Tablet for yourself?”

Qi Jiangyuan replied, “That’s not something one can do for oneself.”

He’d been killed by his own enemy—of course no one had collected his body, let alone made him a tablet.

“Don’t worry. If no one else will do it, I will!” Can He promised him.

Qi Jiangyuan said, “There’s no need to waste the effort.”

“How would you know if you don’t try?”

Can He immediately summoned a Ghost Attendant and asked for a wooden tablet, incense sticks, and a censer.

Clutching a small knife, his fingers not quite nimble, he painstakingly carved a few large, crooked characters into the wood. Then he blew off the shavings, inked the letters, and presented it to Qi Jiangyuan like a treasure.

Qi Jiangyuan slowly read the inscription aloud, his tone unreadable: “Spirit Tablet of My Dearest Friend, Qi Jiangyuan?”

Can He looked up at him. “Is that wrong?”

Qi Jiangyuan stared at the words “Dearest Friend,” then set the tablet down. “It’s fine. Let’s leave it at that for now.”

Delighted, Can He placed the tablet properly in front of him, held up three sticks of incense, and bowed seriously several times like he meant it.

When he finished, Can He looked up. “Alright! I’m officially your first Ginseng offering!”

Something soft brushed across Qi Jiangyuan’s heart. “Mm.”

“So can I make a wish now?”

In human tradition, people usually offered gold, silver, or delicious food before making a wish to the departed.

But here he was, offering nothing, and daring to make a wish to the Ghost King.

“Let’s start with the first wish,” Can He said after thinking a moment. “I wish for you to get better soon.”

Qi Jiangyuan said, “That might be a difficult one.”

Can He didn’t care. “Why are you always so pessimistic? You’ve got to make the wish first, then worry about the rest!”

“My second wish is for you to untie the red string around my ankle, so I can return to the Longevity Ruins sooner.”

Qi Jiangyuan’s expression changed instantly. “You want to go back?”

Can He replied, “Of course I do.”

Who wouldn’t? Wujian Prison was nothing compared to the comfort of the Longevity Ruins.

“Then keep dreaming,” Qi Jiangyuan sneered.

Can He: ?

He wasn’t about to indulge Qi Jiangyuan’s mood swings. “What’s it to you? If I want to leave, I’ll leave!”

It wasn’t like he was leaving right now—he’d at least wait until his Spiritual Power was fully restored.

Little Radish was already used to Qi Jiangyuan’s unpredictable moods. Still, after all that bowing, not a single wish had come true. He couldn’t help feeling a little annoyed.

“What kind of Ghost King are you if you can’t even grant a single wish?”

He nudged Qi Jiangyuan’s leg with the tip of his foot and grumbled, “I’m hungry. I want food.”

At least the third wish was something Qi Jiangyuan could fulfill. When dinner was served, Can He nodded in satisfaction.

Might as well test if the spirit tablet actually worked.

Imitating Xie Suoyan, he scooped a small portion of each dish into separate bowls and placed them in front of the spirit tablet, then bowed a few times.

He waited eagerly for a long while, but nothing happened on Qi Jiangyuan’s side of the table.

Huh? Still no effect?

“Did I do something wrong?” Can He blinked and muttered to himself.

Qi Jiangyuan didn’t seem surprised. “As expected.”

Can He looked at him, lips pressed together, a flicker of helplessness in his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll think of another way.”

Come to think of it, if a spirit tablet really worked, Qi Jiangyuan would’ve had other ghosts set one up for him long ago.

The tablet still sat on the table, giving off an eerie vibe. Can He picked it up and cradled it in his arms with a long sigh.

Qi Jiangyuan lowered his gaze to the white-robed youth in front of him, who was holding his spirit tablet with a sorrowful expression.

…He looked a bit like a young widow mourning at a grave.

Qi Jiangyuan’s tone softened for once. “It’s fine. This was never something you needed to worry about.”

“Why shouldn’t I worry?” Can He sounded both aggrieved and sorrowful, the corners of his eyes tinged red. “This matters a lot to me! Because…”

“You matter a lot to me!”

Qi Jiangyuan stared at him in stunned silence for a moment, something deep inside him quietly loosening.

But Can He’s heart felt heavy.

He was still planning to kidnap Qi Jiangyuan back to the Longevity Ruins… but if Qi Jiangyuan suddenly died, that would be terrifying!

Qi Jiangyuan noticed he’d lost his appetite and opened his mouth to speak, but in the end, said nothing.

…

As soon as Xie Suoyan walked in, he immediately sensed that something was off between His Highness and the radish.

He hesitated for a moment, then reported, “Your Highness, mortals have thrown more people into the Youming River again. They’ve been stopped in time and haven’t touched the black water yet.”

Qi Jiangyuan didn’t even look up. “See who’s still short on merit and have them bring the people up.”

Can He perked up a little. “Why are they throwing people in? What kind of people?”

Xie Suoyan thought for a moment. “In response to Little Highness, it’s due to some frightening rumors. The common folk believe that Your Highness requires a few virgin boys and girls as snacks each year, or sometimes beautiful women. So every year during the sacrificial rites, they throw people into the Ghost Realm.”

So every year, the Ghost Realm fished them out and saved them, which ended up benefiting the ghosts who followed behind to collect merit.

It all stemmed from reverence for Qi Jiangyuan. They thought this was a way to appease him.

But in truth, those in charge were damaging their own karmic virtue—completely counterproductive.

And somehow, the rumors outside kept growing worse.

The Human Realm’s leaders had ascended, and the sects left behind couldn’t maintain order.

Over in the Demon Realm… the newly appointed Demon King had yet to show his face, leaving only Qi Jiangyuan in control.

Mortals grew fearful, and the sacrificial rituals became more frequent.

After hearing all this, Can He gave a disinterested “Oh.”

The Ghost Realm’s waters were already this polluted, and they were still tossing people in? That was just plain wicked.

“What’s so hard about fixing that?” Can He said listlessly. “Find the one in charge of the sacrifices, kick him into the river, then have the ghosts who need merit take turns fishing him out. Do it a few times until he’s convinced. That way, you earn merit and scare them off from doing it again.”

Xie Suoyan’s mouth slowly fell open.

Wait a minute, wasn’t that… wasn’t that our ghost cultivator logic?

Qi Jiangyuan pondered for a moment. “We’ll go with Little Highness’s plan.”

Xie Suoyan bowed. “As you command.”

Qi Jiangyuan hadn’t expected Can He to come up with such a scheme. “If word of this gets out, some people might talk.”

“You think I’m scared of them?” Can He said righteously. “They’re the ones sacrificing innocent people, and I’m the one doing good deeds. They don’t scold the real culprits, but they want to scold me? We’re not even the same race—I’m a demon, and I’m super fierce!”

“But you,” Can He suddenly leaned in, poking Qi Jiangyuan’s chest, “don’t think I didn’t hear it clearly. Why are they still sending you women?”

Qi Jiangyuan caught his mischievous fingertip. “Ghost cultivators are driven by desire. What’s so strange about that?”

But during all this time in Wujian Prison, Can He hadn’t seen Qi Jiangyuan with any favored consorts.

Can He tilted his head, his chin nearly resting on Qi Jiangyuan’s shoulder. “Then why don’t you take them? Don’t you like them?”

Qi Jiangyuan countered, “Why should I take them?”

“You’re the one who said ghost cultivators are driven by desire,” Can He muttered.

Then suddenly, as if something occurred to him, he glanced down at Qi Jiangyuan’s lower half.

What? No way…

Can He immediately snapped to attention. “We agreed beforehand—I’m only saving your life, not your manhood…”

Don’t think he didn’t know—Ginseng was a top-tier tonic for boosting yang energy³. It replenished Qi, nourished essence, and could enhance a man’s performance in bed.

Qi Jiangyuan almost wanted to shut that little mouth of his. “I’m fine.”

Fine, yet still no consorts… Thirty thousand years, and he could’ve become a saint by now.

Can He grew even more suspicious. “You into men?”

Well… it made sense. He’d been Qi Jiangyuan’s half-bedmate—a male ginseng, no less. Even if it was for healing, they had indeed shared the same bed.

Little Radish was slow to realize the danger.

Back then, he’d actually had the guts to tell His Highness he wanted to serve in bed…

He knew he had some charm, and now that he thought about it, Can He instantly stopped leaning on Qi Jiangyuan and quietly edged away.

But the Ghost King caught his hand, and Can He stumbled right into his arms.

“I’m not a monk, but I don’t settle for just anyone,” Qi Jiangyuan said. “You keep asking—could it be you’re interested?”

Can He froze in his embrace, not daring to move. “I was just curious, that’s all. How could you smear my ginseng purity like that…”

“You won’t accept the ones sent from the Human Realm,” Can He probed in a small voice. “If the Demon King sends someone, would you take them?”

“Could it be,” Qi Jiangyuan chuckled lowly, “Little Highness wants to volunteer himself?”

Translator’s Notes