Chapter 12: Not the Right Time Yet

Can He whipped his head around, staring at Qi Jiangyuan in shock.

Qi Jiangyuan paused for a moment, then said cautiously, “Perhaps the Ghost Messenger¹ down below miscommunicated the message.”

Can He fixed him with a disbelieving look. “Really?”

Are you trying to fool me?

The cultivator didn’t believe it either. With a flick of his wrist, the tip of his sword edged even closer to the old ghost. He sneered, “You think I’d fall for your ghostly lies? The Ghost King personally ordered a radish to be declared a ginseng? What kind of nonsense is that?”

No matter how the old ghost wailed and tried to explain, the cultivator dismissed it all as excuses. The patrolling Ghost Messengers soon arrived and, without a word, seized the troublemaker and dragged him away.

As he was hauled off, the cultivator kept shouting, “It’s all fake! You ghost cultivators are full of lies, not a word of truth among you! The Ghost King giving orders? As if he’d waste time on radishes and ginseng…”

Can He: …

Qi Jiangyuan watched his expression carefully and asked, “Shall I have them change the sign?”

Unexpectedly, Can He shook his head.

The boy waved his hand with an air of pride. “Forget it. Ginseng is a precious treasure that prolongs life. I’ll be generous and let white radishes bask in the glory of the name.”

But then he shot a half-annoyed glance at Qi Jiangyuan. “Still, you need to issue a new decree. That whole ‘all radishes in the Ghost Realm must be called ginseng’ thing—sounds like you’re mocking me in a roundabout way.”

Qi Jiangyuan nodded compliantly. “Alright.”

Yet Can He still frowned. He looked at the stall, then down at his own hand, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Qi Jiangyuan asked.

Can He shook his head and withdrew his gaze, his voice tinged with confusion. “I was just wondering… am I really a ginseng?”

He had grown up in the Longevity Ruins, surrounded by ginseng. Naturally, he had always considered himself one of them.

Can He knew he looked a bit different from his kin, but since he cultivated far faster than the others, he simply assumed he was a uniquely gifted ginseng.

But ever since arriving in the Ghost Realm, everyone—from top to bottom—had called him a radish. And now, he’d seen a real radish.

They did… look a little similar.

Qi Jiangyuan was caught off guard by the sudden question and fell silent for a long time.

If he said Can He was a radish, Little Radish would probably throw a tantrum on the spot.

But if he said he was a ginseng, and Can He found out the truth later, he’d likely be even angrier.

After a while, Qi Jiangyuan said slowly, “It doesn’t matter. You are whatever you believe yourself to be. Your identity won’t hinder you.”

Can He found that surprisingly reasonable. “Exactly.”

“I am a ginseng!” Little Radish declared with solemn conviction.

Qi Jiangyuan pinched Can He’s cheek, his tone unconsciously indulgent. “Alright. Don’t overthink it. I’ll make the new decree clearer when we get back.”

The Ghost Market dispersed at the crow of the rooster. It was still early, and going back now would be boring.

Can He tugged on Qi Jiangyuan’s sleeve. “Is there anything here I can eat?”

Qi Jiangyuan thought for a moment. “The Delicacy Pavilion. Their food is suitable for guests from both the Yin and Yang realms.”

With nowhere else to go, finding a place to rest sounded good. Can He nodded. “Alright, let’s check it out.”

As the two of them walked away, Qi Jiangyuan subtly turned his head and gave a signal toward the shadows.

A hidden Ghost Messenger understood immediately and floated over to the soup stall. He said to the vendor, “By order of the Ghost King, effective immediately, all sales of items related to ginseng or radishes are banned in the Ghost Realm.”

The vendor’s ladle trembled. “Huh?”

“Didn’t hear me?” the Ghost Messenger patiently repeated, “You can sell any kind of soup—just not ones with radish or ginseng.”

There was still a long line at the stall. The moment they heard this, the crowd stirred.

“What the hell? Did Qi Jiangyuan suddenly develop a grudge against radishes and ginseng? So many new rules?”

“Seriously! I even skipped dinner for this, just to avoid diarrhea…”

“I heard a rumor… the Ghost King’s been favoring a little radish spirit lately.”

“What? Isn’t he on his deathbed? Still taking concubines?”

“His health might be failing, but that doesn’t mean everything’s failing.”

“A radish concubine? That’s the wildest gossip I’ve heard…”

…

Can He was led by the hand into the Delicacy Pavilion. The interior wasn’t nearly as eerie as the rest of the Ghost Market. In fact, it had the refined elegance of a Human Realm restaurant.

The Ghost Attendant on duty saw Qi Jiangyuan and immediately rushed over with flattery. “Your Highness, what an unexpected honor! I’m truly unworthy. I’ll have a private room prepared at once.”

Qi Jiangyuan responded with a faint nod, then glanced at Can He beside him and added, “And prepare some food from the Yang Realm as well. Bring it all together.”

“Yes, sir.”

Only then did the Ghost Attendant dare to sneak a look at the young man nestled in the Ghost King’s arms. His black robe covered most of his face, revealing only a sliver of pale chin—enough to guess he was quite the beauty.

Looks like the rumors were true.

The Ghost King really did take a radish demon as his consort.

The Ghost Attendant respectfully led the two of them upstairs.

At the turn of the staircase, they ran into another Ghost Attendant, who was smiling obsequiously as he negotiated with a few guests. “I truly apologize, esteemed guests. A very important figure has suddenly arrived, and we’ll need to vacate this private room.”

Can He followed the voice and looked over. The guests were all draped in black robes—they were humans.

One of the shorter figures looked ready to explode on the spot, but someone beside him held him back.

The one who stopped him spoke calmly, “If that’s the case, then please arrange another room for us.”

Can He slowly walked up the stairs, brushing past the group.

The others turned their heads at the same time. Though their eyes were hidden, Can He could clearly feel they were looking at Qi Jiangyuan.

He quietly extended his senses. Each of them carried a sword, their cultivation levels very low—clearly a deliberate disguise.

Qi Jiangyuan’s expression grew colder as he subtly pulled Can He closer to his side.

Once they stepped into the private room, Can He finally pulled off the cumbersome black robe and let out a long breath.

The Ghost Attendants serving them were exceptionally sharp, pouring tea and setting dishes with clear deference to Can He, their eagerness practically spilling over.

So I really do have some clout here.

Pleased by the flattery, Can He grabbed a piece of pastry and stuffed it into his mouth, cheeks puffed as he chewed.

Once the attendants withdrew, he asked curiously, “Who were those humans just now? Looked like you knew them.”

Qi Jiangyuan replied coolly, “No matter. Just a few pests who slipped in. I’ve already sent Xie Suoyan to deal with them.”

When did that happen? So fast?

Can He blinked in surprise.

Even when he was alive, Qi Jiangyuan had no shortage of enemies. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been besieged by so many factions and ultimately killed.

And now, thirty thousand years after death, those grudges still hadn’t faded.

Munching on his pastry, Can He thought, those people were probably terrified now.

With Venerable² Qingpan having ascended and no one left to restrain Qi Jiangyuan, they were likely living in constant fear, dreading the day the Ghost King might decide to settle old scores.

Causing trouble in the Ghost Market—this was Qi Jiangyuan’s turf. No way they’d have the guts.

With that thought, Can He relaxed and continued enjoying the food.

Qi Jiangyuan, unable to eat, simply sat in silence, his gaze fixed on Can He.

That stare was so intense it made the little radish uneasy, like he was being sized up as a delicacy about to be devoured.

Can He nearly choked under the weight of that look. After swallowing hard, he grumbled, “Can you not stare at me like that…”

Qi Jiangyuan countered, “If I don’t look at you, where else should I look?”

Anywhere else would be fine!

Can He was at a loss for words. He glanced around—aside from the two of them, there really wasn’t anything else to look at.

“Whatever,” he muttered, giving up the argument. The pastry was starting to feel dry, so he reached for the nearby pot to pour himself a drink. He sniffed it and frowned. “Isn’t this just water?”

“It’s wine,” Qi Jiangyuan said, handing him a smaller cup. “Want to try? Just don’t overdo it.”

Curious, Can He dipped his chopsticks in and gave it a taste. He couldn’t make out the flavor, so he simply lifted the cup and downed it in one go.

It hit him like a punch.

The acrid scent rushed straight to his head, the bitterness burning his mouth. He nearly spat it back out.

Can He scrunched up his face and hurried to rinse his mouth with water. “Why does it taste so awful?!”

Just one cup, and the boy’s cheeks were already tinged with a rosy flush.

Qi Jiangyuan moved the wine pot away and instructed a Ghost Attendant to bring something sweet to counter the alcohol.

Can He kept shoving food into his mouth, trying to dull the dizzying effect of the wine.

But the more he ate, the fuzzier his head felt. A thin haze began to blur his vision.

Qi Jiangyuan observed his state and sighed softly. “Remember this next time—don’t drink randomly when you’re out. One cup and you’re down. If someone took advantage of you, you wouldn’t even know.”

“Says who!” Can He struggled to sit up straight. “I… I’m still totally sober!”

Just then, the shadows in the room began to ripple. Xie Suoyan appeared suddenly with a group of subordinates, bowing to Qi Jiangyuan. “Your Highness.”

“Reporting, Your Highness. We’ve captured a group of suspicious cultivators on the outskirts of the Ghost Market.”

So they really couldn’t hold back.

Qi Jiangyuan tapped his fingers lightly on the table, pondering for a moment. “Understood.”

Once Xie Suoyan had left, he picked up his cloak and turned to Can He. “Have you had enough? The plan’s changed. You should return to Wujian Prison ahead of schedule…”

Before he could finish, Qi Jiangyuan suddenly froze.

The boy who had just been insisting he wasn’t drunk now sat slumped forward, chopsticks still in hand, completely still—as if in a trance.

Qi Jiangyuan stepped closer and placed a hand on Can He’s shoulder. The little radish immediately collapsed into his arms, eyes glazed, mumbling softly, “…Mmm.”

His mind clung to a shred of clarity, but it was far from lucid.

Qi Jiangyuan hadn’t expected him to get drunk after just one cup. With no other choice, he caught him in his arms.

The drunken Little Radish was unusually docile, letting himself be handled without resistance. He leaned obediently against Qi Jiangyuan’s chest, his breath warm against his skin, eyes dewy and glistening with moisture.

Qi Jiangyuan asked in a low voice, “Did you eat enough?”

Can He was slow to respond. After a long pause, he murmured, “…Mmm.”

“There are some minor matters to take care of outside. Don’t wander off. I’ll have Xie Suoyan take you back.”

“…Mmm.”

Qi Jiangyuan’s lips curved slightly, as if amused by something. He coaxed gently, “So obedient… can I steal a kiss, then?”

Can He’s voice was soft and drawn out. “…Mmm.”

Qi Jiangyuan let out a quiet laugh.

He was never the virtuous type. Now that this radish had fallen into his hands, he had no intention of letting him leave the Ghost Realm unscathed.

Greed and possessiveness—hallmarks of a true ghost—began to churn in his eyes.

He shed his usual mask. His large, iron-cold hand clamped around Can He’s jaw, fingers pressing with a force that bordered on roughness as he rubbed over those unusually flushed lips again and again, until they glistened a vivid, tempting red.

Can He winced from the pressure, shifting uneasily in Qi Jiangyuan’s arms.

Qi Jiangyuan held him still, lowering his head until he hovered just a breath away from Can He’s lips. But in the end, he didn’t take advantage of the moment. Instead, he buried his face deeply into the warmth of Can He’s neck, inhaling with a near-obsessive hunger.

The closer he pressed, the more violently the Yin Qi within him surged, howling to invade this living body and merge with it completely.

But alas, the time had not yet come.

Author’s Note:

Drunken Radish [throws confetti]

A ghost who constantly skirts the edge of forced love—our ultra-restrained ghost bro.

Translator’s Notes