Chapter 11: The Ghost King’s Stern Order

In the end, Can He gave in.

After much hesitation, he reluctantly shuffled back to Qi Jiangyuan’s side, took one of his hands, tilted his head, and gently pressed his cheek against the man’s palm.

“This is the last time, okay? Or I’m gonna punch you.”

Little Radish muttered begrudgingly, his eyes darting away, too shy to meet his gaze.

Can He’s cheek was incredibly soft and delicate, smooth and luminous like jade.

Qi Jiangyuan gave it a light squeeze—the texture was unbelievably fine. His eyes darkened, and a nearly destructive urge surged in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to bite into it, to see if it tasted as sweet as it looked, and to watch this pretty little thing tear up and pout from the pain.

After a moment, he slowly let go.

The sensation of that tender skin still lingered on his fingertips. Qi Jiangyuan smiled. “Good boy.”

That gentle “Good boy” drifted into Can He’s ears, stirring ripples in his heart. The spot on his cheek that had been touched grew even hotter, burning like fire.

“Did we put too many braziers in here or something?” Can He blinked, flustered, scrambling off Qi Jiangyuan. His eyes darted around. “It’s so hot…”

…

News of the Ghost King reopening the Ghost Market spread swiftly through all three realms.

The Ghost Market had always opened only during the fixed “Three No Lights¹” hours. This sudden reopening caught every faction off guard.

Though the place was a chaotic mix of beings, it offered countless rare treasures essential for cultivation. Naturally, everyone welcomed the opportunity.

Still, this unprecedented exception stirred unease and speculation.

For nearly ten thousand years, the Human Realm’s Venerable Qingpan and the Ghost King Qi Jiangyuan had maintained a fragile balance between the three realms.

But recently, Venerable Qingpan had comprehended the Great Dao and ascended with his Dao companion. Though rumors spoke of a new Demon King in the Demon Realm, no one had seen any trace of them.

It was hard not to suspect that Qi Jiangyuan’s abrupt reopening of the Ghost Market hid some earth-shattering plot to overturn the balance of the realms.

Cultivators in the Human Realm exhausted every means to investigate, but came up empty-handed.

All signs pointed to this being nothing more than a whim of Qi Jiangyuan’s—he wanted it open, so it opened.

Despite their fear, many began packing their things, preparing to head to the Ghost Realm.

After all, if the Ghost King wanted to do something, he’d do it. Worst case scenario, everyone dies together—no more struggling to cultivate immortality…

In contrast, the ghosts of Wujian Prison were already numb to it all.

Conspiracies? Schemes? Their Highness just wanted to cheer up his little Radish, that was all.

The most shocked of all was Xie Suoyan. Once again, his understanding of how pampered Little Radish was had been completely overturned.

He had only casually brought it up that day, thinking Can He would have to wait at least a year. Who would’ve thought the entire Ghost Market would reopen just for that one Radish? Even more shocking—His Highness was going to accompany him personally!

Qi Jiangyuan had never set foot in such a chaotic place before!

Though his heart was full of complaints, Xie Suoyan still moved quickly, assigning more Ghost Messengers to patrol and strictly guarding against any fool who might offend the Ghost King and his Radish consort…

The Ghost Market usually opened at midnight.

That night, Can He left Wujian Prison with Qi Jiangyuan and boarded a black-sailed boat.

The moment Can He settled at the bow, the boat began gliding silently into the mist, without a single breeze.

The Black Marsh of the Ghost Realm was always shrouded in thick fog that never dispersed. One wrong move and you’d lose your way. But now, as he boarded the boat again, there was no trace of fear on Can He’s face—only bright-eyed excitement.

Before long, the boat broke through the fog.

Ahead, the eerie green glow of the Ghost Market cast a strange hue over the water. A salty, bone-chilling wind swept through the air. Many boats were docked at the pier, their sides crawling with shadowy figures—twisted silhouettes whose faces were impossible to make out.

As soon as the boat docked, Can He heard the lively bustle from within.

He was about to leap off in excitement when Qi Jiangyuan grabbed him and pulled him back.

“What’s the rush?” Qi Jiangyuan took out a large black cloak and carefully draped it over him.

The wide hood immediately concealed most of the boy’s face, leaving only his delicate lips exposed.

“There are many rules in the Ghost Market,” Qi Jiangyuan said softly as he tied the cloak’s straps. “No arguing. Living beings must cover their faces once inside. And you’ll need to carry this ghost lantern to light your way, so you don’t disturb the wandering souls.”

He placed the ghost lantern into Can He’s hands.

Can He fiddled with it curiously. “Mm-hmm, got it.”

These rules were mainly to prevent living beings from absorbing too much Yin Qi and attracting vengeful spirits or malicious ghosts that might follow them back to the living world.

Can He had spent enough time with Qi Jiangyuan that his body was already steeped in the Ghost King’s aura—he didn’t really need to hide. But still…

Qi Jiangyuan tugged the hood lower over his face. He didn’t want anyone else’s eyes lingering on Little Radish’s face.

Inside the Ghost Market, humans, demons, and ghosts mingled freely. After disembarking, Can He kept Qi Jiangyuan’s warning firmly in mind and stuck close to him, matching his every step.

Qi Jiangyuan glanced down at him and naturally reached out to wrap an arm around Can He’s slender shoulders.

The boy was small, and in this posture, he was almost completely enveloped in Qi Jiangyuan’s embrace.

The moment they stepped into the Ghost Market, a chaotic din mixed with bone-chilling cold rushed at them. Living souls and ghostly shadows drifted about, along with many figures cloaked in black robes, hoods pulled low to obscure whether they were human or demon.

At the roadside eateries, the candlelight burned a dim, blood-red hue, casting an eerie sheen across the rough wooden tables.

Around one such table sat a few burly men, hunched over and devouring their food with frantic speed. Their movements were wild and desperate, soup dribbling from the corners of their mouths and soaking their chins, making them look like starving spirits reincarnated.

Suddenly, one of them let out a low growl. His hand, still gripping his bowl and chopsticks, swelled grotesquely as coarse, dark brown fur burst forth—his true form as a bear demon revealed. A furry paw slammed down on the edge of the bowl, sending the dishes clattering.

Not far off, a gambling stall was even more raucous, the clatter of dice against porcelain bowls sharp and incessant. Can He spotted a figure in a black robe with one foot propped on a wooden stool. As the robe flared up, it revealed the inner garments of a disciple from some righteous sect.

But the man had shed all the restraint of a proper cultivator. One hand pounded the gambling table while the other jabbed at the dice in the bowl, shouting wildly with a greed that rivaled any malicious spirit. There wasn’t a trace of a cultivator’s dignity left.

Can He clenched his hands inside his sleeves and burrowed closer into Qi Jiangyuan’s arms.

Thank goodness he’d come with Qi Jiangyuan. Otherwise, just as he’d warned, he might never have found his way out of this place.

Here, no matter who you were—your identity, your race—it all became meaningless. Everything hidden in the shadows was laid bare without shame.

“This place is really…” Can He mumbled, unable to find the right word, so he changed the subject. “Have you been here before?”

Qi Jiangyuan’s expression remained calm. “No.”

Can He was a little surprised.

He’d overheard Xie Suoyan and other ghosts talking before—places like the Ghost Market, which stirred up base desires, were perfect nourishment for Ghost Cultivators. Every time it opened, they were reluctant to leave until the very end.

Can He asked curiously, “Then why not?”

Just as the words left his mouth, a sticky, sultry sound drifted over—so suggestive it made Little Radish’s ears burn. It wormed straight into Can He’s ears.

He instinctively looked up, his gaze passing through the flickering ghostly lights to land on a building draped with faded gauze curtains.

The second-floor window was wide open. There were no candles, but two shadowy figures were tangled together right at the windowsill.

Clearly, they were both men.

One was pinned against the weathered frame, his black robe disheveled, exposing a pale stretch of neck. The other leaned over him, movements rough and unrestrained, not bothering to hide a thing.

Can He’s eyes slowly widened: OoO

A hand quickly covered his eyes and pulled him away. Still curious, Can He tugged the hand down and tried to look back, only for Qi Jiangyuan to scold him in a low voice, “Don’t look!”

Can He immediately snapped back, “Why are you being so mean!”

What, I can’t even look?!

The Demon Realm was open about these things—he’d seen it before. He just hadn’t expected the Ghost Realm to be like this too…

It was a scene he should’ve been used to, but with Qi Jiangyuan right beside him, Can He suddenly felt uncomfortably warm.

Little Radish rubbed his burning ears in silence. Oh no, he was being affected by the Ghost Market too…

There was only one way in and out of the Ghost Market. If you let desire trip you up here, you might truly be lost forever.

Qi Jiangyuan kept his arm around him as they strode quickly through the street, finally reaching the heart of the Ghost Market. Though still strange and eerie, it was at least more orderly than the outskirts.

Neither Little Radish nor the ghost mentioned what they’d just seen.

Can He kept his head down, focused on finding a stall that sold Lightning-struck Wood.

After searching for a while, he finally spotted what he was looking for in a corner by the street.

The vendor was a ghost with a pale greenish face. In front of him were several pieces of blackened cloth, upon which lay neatly arranged chunks of wood. The bark was charred and covered in jagged cracks—Lightning-struck Wood.

Can He crouched in front of the stall and picked up a piece to examine it closely.

So this was Lightning-struck Wood? Aside from being dark, it didn’t seem all that special.

Remembering Xie Suoyan’s warnings, Can He asked cautiously, “Is this authentic Lightning-struck Wood?”

The ghost gave a fawning smile. “Of course it’s real.”

“Not split with a Lightning-Attracting Talisman? Not just burned with fire?”

The ghost vendor let out a wounded cry, “Oh come now, young master! I never lied when I was alive—why would I start faking things after I’m dead?”

Can He gave him a look. “I’m not human. I’m a demon.”

He reached out and yanked Qi Jiangyuan over, pointing at his face as he addressed the ghost vendor. “Take a good look at his face, then tell me again—do you still think this Lightning-struck Wood is real or fake?”

Qi Jiangyuan: …

The ghost vendor squinted at him, then suddenly caught sight of the Ghost King. His legs went weak. “F-Fake… it’s fake.”

Qi Jiangyuan: ……….

The ghost scrambled away in a panic, digging into the bottom of the wooden box he carried with him. With great care, he pulled out a few pieces of wood and gently laid them on the ground. “These… these are the real ones.”

“Hmph.” Can He grumbled. “At least you know your place.”

No wonder the ghost dared to pass off fakes—the real and fake Lightning-struck Wood looked nearly identical. Without a close inspection, it’d be easy to fall for the trick.

Can He looked left and right, but couldn’t decide which piece was best. So he handed the choice over to Qi Jiangyuan. “You pick. This is my gift to you.”

Qi Jiangyuan looked slightly stunned. “A gift for me?”

Can He nodded, clearly pleased with himself. “Yep. I spent ages researching in the Library Pavilion. Turns out you have to use Lightning-struck Wood to make a Spirit Tablet for it to work. That’s why I insisted on coming to the Ghost Market… Pick whichever one you like. I’m giving it to you.”

So that’s why… He’d brought him all the way to the Ghost Market just to give him a piece of Lightning-struck Wood.

Qi Jiangyuan’s heart melted. He carefully selected a piece. “This one.”

The ghost vendor stared longingly at Can He.

Can He stared just as longingly at Qi Jiangyuan.

Qi Jiangyuan met his gaze, his tone softening a little. “What is it?”

“What do you mean, what?” the boy said righteously. “Hurry up and pay!”

Qi Jiangyuan let out a helpless laugh, shaking his head as he paid without hesitation.

It didn’t matter. His money was Can He’s money.

With the Lightning-struck Wood in hand, Can He was in high spirits. He hugged the heavy piece of wood as he walked out, but before long he got tired and casually shoved it into Qi Jiangyuan’s arms. “Here, you carry it. It’s yours now.”

Now that his hands were free, he felt much lighter.

Qi Jiangyuan’s fingers twitched slightly as he stored the Lightning-struck Wood into his Sumeru Space. Meanwhile, the boy beside him had already been drawn to another stall with a long line.

It was a soup stall under a shabby canopy. A blackened iron pot sat on a low stove, the bubbling broth inside gurgling and steaming.

The crowd around the stall was packed—disheveled female ghosts, elderly ghosts dragging broken legs, and many figures cloaked in black robes, both human and demon. Next to the stall stood a wooden sign that boldly read—

Nine Hells Rebirth Ginseng Soup.

Can He sucked in a sharp breath. “?”

So Qi Jiangyuan was right! The Ghost Market really does serve Ginseng!!

Baffled, Can He turned to ask, “Didn’t you say the living can’t eat food from the underworld? Then why are there so many living people in line?”

“Curiosity has to be satisfied somehow,” Qi Jiangyuan replied coolly. “Besides, eating a small amount won’t do much harm. Just a few side effects.”

“What kind of side effects?”

“Uncontrollable diarrhea.”

Can He immediately lost all interest in trying it.

Just then, a figure in a black robe suddenly stormed up to the stall and slammed a coarse ceramic bowl down on the wooden counter with a loud bang.

“Fraud! This isn’t Ginseng Soup at all!” His right hand flew to the hilt at his waist. With a flash of cold steel, half the blade was already drawn, pointing straight at the old ghost running the stall.

“I paid good money for this, and it turned out to be plain white radish soup²!”

The old ghost trembled in fear at the sight of the sword and dropped to his knees with a thud, kowtowing repeatedly. “Mercy, Immortal! Please spare me! I swear I wasn’t trying to cheat you—it was… it was the Ghost King’s direct order!”

He wailed, “Inside the Ghost Realm, radish… must be called Ginseng!”

Can He: …?

Translator’s Notes