Chapter 24: I Really Am a Radish!

Can He jolted awake. “What did you say?!”

He tried to push away the ghost pressing down on him, but his wrist was easily pinned to the brocade bedding.

Qi Jiangyuan didn’t answer. Only the spreading heat blurred the lines between them, little by little.

The boy’s back trembled suddenly, a fine shimmer of light rising on his thin skin, glistening with something wet. Qi Jiangyuan’s fingers were still buried in the tender flesh along his thigh, leaving a faint flush in their wake.

“You… you better explain yourself…” Little Radish’s voice was so broken it barely held together, thick with sweetness. Even his hair was damp with sweat, a few strands of black clinging to his pale forehead.

His knees instinctively tried to draw up, but Qi Jiangyuan pushed them apart again, sending a shiver through his waist and belly.

“I wasn’t lying,” Qi Jiangyuan finally said, lowering his head to kiss the corner of Can He’s eye. Each movement stirred a soft, wet sound, so light it felt like an illusion.

Can He felt as if he were floating on warm water, his consciousness rising and falling with the tide.

At some point, the gauze canopy had been tugged halfway down, draping loosely by Can He’s calves and brushing his ankles with every movement.

Qi Jiangyuan held his chin and kissed him, swallowing every whimper. In his haze, Can He could feel Qi Jiangyuan pressed close, his body burning hotter and hotter.

The two of them spent several wild days holed up in the bedchamber, not stepping outside once.

By the time Can He came to again, his body had been cleaned, and he was dressed in fresh underclothes.

He moved slightly, and it felt like every bone in his body had been taken apart and put back together—aching and weak, especially between his waist and legs. That deep, sore fullness instantly reminded him of the past few days’ madness, and his ears flushed red.

“Bastard!”

He cursed under his breath, voice still hoarse from the aftermath. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got, and he grabbed a pillow and hurled it to the floor.

Qi Jiangyuan was no longer in the bedchamber, probably off tending to the mountain of affairs that had piled up over the past few days.

Can He propped himself up and sat upright. The brocade quilt slipped from his shoulders, revealing scattered marks across his skin. Little Radish stared at them for a moment, face turning even redder, and quickly pulled the covers back up.

But a harsher reality loomed before him.

Qi Jiangyuan had said he was a radish.

That’s impossible!!!

He’d clearly grown in the Longevity Ruins for thirty thousand years. Every single ginseng there had said he was a Ginseng Spirit.

From the moment he had memory, the old ginsengs had always told him, “Can He, you’re the most spiritually gifted ginseng in our Longevity Ruins.”

No, he had to confirm this.

Can He gritted his teeth through the lingering soreness and slowly got dressed.

Every movement made his waist ache so badly he couldn’t help but frown.

After much effort, he finally managed to dress himself and pushed open the palace doors, only to be blinded by the bright daylight outside.

He hadn’t gone far when he ran into Xie Suoyan and a group of ghost cultivators, busy with something he couldn’t quite make out.

In the past few days, the ghost clan had been unusually well-behaved on Demon Realm territory. They’d even used cultivation techniques to mask their deathly aura. Xie Suoyan’s long tongue was gone, and at first glance, Can He didn’t even recognize him.

“Little Highness is finally awake?” Xie Suoyan greeted him with a grin, teasing, “Shall I have the Ghost Chef make some red eggs¹ for you? You need to replenish your strength.”

Tsk tsk, he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Can He or Qi Jiangyuan for days.

Today, when the Ghost King emerged from the bedchamber, he looked positively radiant—no different from a living person.

If not for the lingering Yin Qi on his body, Xie Suoyan would’ve thought he’d come back from the dead.

As soon as he stepped out, Qi Jiangyuan had ordered the Ghost Realm to begin wedding preparations and ready the Soul-Binding Ceremony.

Even now, looking at Little Highness, he seemed thoroughly nourished—his eyes and brows practically glowing with springtime charm.

“What red eggs?” Can He cut him off angrily, jabbing a finger at himself. “Tell me—am I a radish or a ginseng?”

Xie Suoyan was stunned by the question. He quickly retracted his tongue and subtly hid the chain behind him, replying cautiously, “A ginseng, of course.”

“Tell the truth.” Can He narrowed his eyes at him, those beautiful eyes gleaming with suspicion.

Xie Suoyan sighed inwardly.

His Highness really had no sense of restraint. He’d stirred up this little radish ancestor again? What was today’s trick?

“I swear, you’re really a ginseng,” he said solemnly.

Can He blinked, then frowned in confusion.

That couldn’t be right. Qi Jiangyuan had clearly said he was a radish… That damn ghost—was he lying to him again?

Then he noticed the ghost cultivators around them were all quietly hiding their magical tools behind their backs, fumbling in a panic.

A sudden flash of insight struck Can He. “It’s fine. His Highness already explained everything to me. I’m not going to break your tools. I just came to confirm something.”

“Really?” Xie Suoyan asked.

Can He nodded, doing his best to look harmless. “Of course it’s true. Why else would I suddenly come ask you this?”

Xie Suoyan let out a long sigh of relief. With a clatter, a length of chain slid halfway out of his sleeve. “So His Highness already said it? Good, good—Little Highness, you really are a radish.”

Can He: “…”

The other ghost cultivators, seeing that Xie Suoyan had come clean, all started chiming in at once:

“Finally we can say it! I was about to burst! Little Highness, you really are a radish.”

“That ghost selling soup at the Ghost Market, poor guy, he even changed the name of his stall to follow the trend. But it was always radish soup! At first, people who didn’t know better even flipped his stall. Now he’s not even allowed to sell radish soup anymore.”

Even the Ghost Master stroked his beard and said, “Indeed. I said long ago that the Little Highness was a radish.”

“A nice round one, plump and white like a ball,” someone added, clearly lacking any sense of self-preservation.

Furious, Can He lunged forward to snatch up their magical tools.

With a clatter of metal, he ended up with an armful of kitchen knives, chains, and Discipline Rulers. His cheeks flushed red with anger as he turned and stormed off.

After a few steps, the Little Radish spun back around and glared at them fiercely. “Just wait! I’ll have Qi Jiangyuan deal with you!”

The ghost cultivators looked at each other in dismay.

Forget it, let the Little Highness take them. If he breaks the tools, His Highness will just replace them with better ones anyway…

Cradling his confiscated loot, Can He went off to find the Demon Race.

The Cat Spirit led the way. He had picked the wrong side earlier and accidentally hurt Can He. Now was his chance to make up for it.

As soon as he saw Can He, his cat ears perked up. He hurried forward and bowed. “Little Highness! You’re awake? I’ve already negotiated with the Human Realm. From now on, neither the Human nor Demon Realms are allowed to call you a radish. Anyone who does will be punished!”

Can He stopped in his tracks, tossed the magical tools to the ground with a loud clang, and pointed at himself.

“Am I a radish or a ginseng?”

The Cat Spirit knew the right answer and blurted out, “Ginseng!”

The last person who called Can He a radish—Venerable Jinhua—had been reduced to ashes. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake.

Can He stared into his round cat eyes. “Tell the truth and I’ll give you dried fish.”

The Cat Spirit’s nose twitched, and a gurgle came from his throat.

He struggled for three breaths, then caved. “…A radish.”

No matter how blindly loyal he was to the Demon King, he couldn’t lie to himself.

That sweet, crisp scent, that tender white skin, that juicy texture—he was clearly a top-quality, water-fresh radish.

Can He’s vision went black. He nearly fainted.

He was a radish…

He really was a radish!!

He really was going to have to change his name to Luo He²…

The other Demons quickly rushed forward to support him when they saw him pale and swaying. “Little Highness! Are you alright?”

Can He shoved them away and looked down at his own hands. His fingers were slender and fair, with a faint pink hue in the sunlight. He stared at them for a long time, then suddenly remembered something.

He’d never tasted himself.

Can He silently raised his head and swept his gaze across the gathered Demons. The look in his eyes made their fur stand on end.

A Ginseng Spirit, catching on, hesitated for a moment before gritting his teeth and breaking off a small piece of his root. Trembling, he offered it up. “L-Little Highness… here.”

Can He took it and bit into the ginseng root.

It was bitter, earthy, and carried a distinct medicinal flavor—the taste of ginseng he remembered.

He set the root down and quietly took a bite of himself.

Crisp, sweet, and bursting with juice.

Can He froze.

He took another bite, this time savoring it more carefully.

Crisp. Sweet. Juicy. Completely different from that piece of real ginseng.

He knew this taste. He’d had it before in the Ghost Realm—fresh shrimp and shredded radish soup.

The sky of the radish world had collapsed.

But it was pretty tasty.

Tears in his eyes, Can He kept munching on himself, “crunch crunch,” crying as he ate.

The Radish Clan finally caught on and erupted with joy. “I told you His Highness was a radish! You ginsengs kept insisting he was one of yours!”

“Nonsense! His Highness clearly has the flavor of ginseng!”

The ginsengs were dumbfounded. After thirty thousand years, a ginseng who could bring honor to their kind had finally appeared—only to turn out to be a radish…

For thirty thousand years, Can He had never doubted his identity.

Everyone in the Longevity Ruins had told him he was a Ginseng Spirit, even though his habits were completely different—

He loved the sun; ginseng preferred shade.

He grew fast; ginsengs grew slow.

But Can He had never questioned it. He’d always treated himself like a ginseng.

Only after leaving the Longevity Ruins and stepping into the wider world—meeting humans, ghosts, and Demons—did he start hearing the same thing again and again:

He was a radish.

So it turned out only those sheltered Ginseng Spirits from the Longevity Ruins couldn’t tell the difference between a radish and a ginseng.

The more Can He thought about it, the more wronged he felt. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

It was all Qi Jiangyuan’s fault!

Why did he have to tell him the truth? Wouldn’t it have been better to let him stay blissfully ignorant? He could’ve gone on being a happy little Ginseng Spirit, adored by all, treated like a treasure—what was so bad about that?

Can He completely forgot that he was the one who had asked Qi Jiangyuan to tell the truth in the first place. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got.

That ghost was just too wicked. Especially these past few days in bed—he had cried and begged him to stop, but Qi Jiangyuan just kept kissing him while doing all those things, leaving him both euphoric and miserable. His legs trembled so much he couldn’t even close them. In the end, he could only sob and cling to Qi Jiangyuan’s neck, pleading for mercy.

Can He blushed, then went pale, and finally turned green with rage.

Qi Jiangyuan could do whatever he wanted!

He was going to hate Qi Jiangyuan for the rest of his life!

…No, wait, a lifetime was too long. Ten years, then.

But then he remembered how good Qi Jiangyuan had made him feel in bed, and the tips of his ears turned red.

Fine, he’d hate him for just one whole day.

The radish thought viciously: for this entire day, he wouldn’t speak to Qi Jiangyuan, wouldn’t sleep with him, and…

Can He glanced at his ankle.

That Red String was still tied there.

“You lot,” Can He lifted his foot and shook the Red String, “whoever helps me get this off gets a reward.”

He wanted Qi Jiangyuan to realize just how mad he was!

When that ghost came back and saw the string gone, he’d be frantic!

The Cat Spirit stared at the Red String for a long while, then suddenly his eyes lit up.

He grabbed the big claw of a nearby crab and aimed it at the string.

Snap.

The string broke.

The Cat Spirit set the crab back down and said proudly, “Your Highness, it’s just a regular Red String! I thought it was some kind of magical artifact.”

Can He stared wide-eyed at his now bare ankle.

A regular Red String!

Can He was shaking with fury. He grabbed the leafy top of a nearby Radish Spirit.

“You! Go tell Qi Jiangyuan I’m not speaking to him for three whole days!”

Translator’s Notes