CH 7

“I can deposit another one billion yuan for you,” Jiang Jiang calmly stopped the angry Liang Liang with a sentence.

“Where did you get so much money?”

“I’ll give you my personal savings,” Jiang Jiang paused, “Wife.”

“Hey! Who is your wife!”

“That one billion yuan, I will only give it to my wife,” Jiang Jiang slowly withdrew his hand. “If you don’t want it, then two billion yuan and the 100,000 yuan gift package from the underworld will be gone too.”

“…,” Liang Liang grabbed his hand, looking solemn and resigned to death. “Call me.”

“Wife.”

“Okay.”

So satisfying.

(16)

All the ghosts in the public cemetery knew that Liang Liang had gotten married.

They also knew that his spouse was a prodigal little Taoist priest.

The group of ghosts changed their fierce appearances from before and smiled as they offered their sacrifices to Liang Liang. Liang Liang waved his hand and gave everything to the brat.

“You don’t seem like a ghost willing to give up food,” in the luxurious coffin, water seeped in and flooded half of it, so Jiang Jiang had to squeeze next to Liang Liang when they slept, their souls merging together.

Liang Liang leaned uncomfortably to the side. “The brat is different.”

“How is he different?”

“Jiang Jiang, are you jealous?” Liang Liang pretended to be surprised and pushed Jiang Jiang. “He’s just a kid.”

“He’s been a ghost for much longer than me, wife.”

Liang Liang was already used to being called that and remained indifferent. “But he treats me differently. When I was in the public cemetery, no one liked me and they all ignored me. Only he would lift up a bag of chips and bring it to me.”

“Why?”

“He’s a starving ghost too, you know?” Liang Liang turned over and whispered softly, “Because both his parents work outside, he was usually alone at home. His parents were afraid he’ll wander around, so they locked the door and left food for him at home.”

“And then?”

“Once the food was gone, his parents didn’t come back, and he starved to death,” Liang Liang shook his head. By now, most of the coffin was flooded, and he could only let Jiang Jiang press him tighter.

Over time, he gradually started to enjoy the damp and cold sensation. This might be what people in the cemetery referred to as “*exual life,” Liang Liang thought, maybe they could have more of it.

Seeing that Liang Liang didn’t resist and seemed to be in a good mood, Jiang Jiang asked, “Why didn’t he reincarnate?”

“His parents come to the grave every month to offer sacrifices, and he couldn’t bear to leave his parents, so he has been staying as a ghost.”

“I see.” Jiang Jiang gently touched his head and ran his fingertips through his hair. “There are too many disappointments in this world. If they can be compensated after death, it’s not a regret.”

“You seem to have something on your mind.”

“Do I?”

Liang Liang stopped talking and just looked up at him.

Jiang Jiang smiled and lowered his head, lightly tracing his finger over Liang Liang’s lips. “You should have guessed who I am by now, right?”

(17)

“Weren’t you always waiting for the appearance of Xiang Yu, the Overlord of Western Chu?” Jiang Jiang straightened his wrinkled robe and looked at Liang Liang. “He didn’t come to see you because his leg was broken by his own servant backstage and he died, buried far away from you, unable to see you.”

“You—”

“I didn’t drink the soup from Meng Po.[1] I sought gods and consulted Buddhas, but later I thought it would be better to cultivate on my own. I shook divination sticks and consulted the hexagrams, and they said that if I didn’t die, I wouldn’t be able to see you.”

Liang Liang stared blankly. He didn’t believe it. Jiang Jiang’s memory was unexpectedly better than his own. Both of them had lived for hundreds of years, yet how did he end up with senility while Jiang Jiang remembered everything clearly?

“Perhaps your focus was misplaced,” Jiang Jiang calmly reminded him.

Well, when obsessions bear fruit, the mind no longer flows as freely as a stream. The obscured past is gently blown away like smoke, and memories of the past emerge one after another.

Liang Liang finally saw clearly the face hidden deep in his memories.

“It’s really you…”

Jiang Jiang lowered his head, finally able to openly kiss his wife on the lips. “It’s always been me.”

Liang Liang’s ghostly eyes shimmered with a glass-like green. “You’ve returned.”

“I’ve returned.”

Unable to resist, Jiang Jiang kissed the back of his wife’s head.

[1] Meng Po soup, also known as Meng Po’s Soup or Soup of Forgetfulness, is a concept from Chinese mythology and folklore. According to legends, Meng Po is a deity or an old woman who resides in the underworld. She serves a special soup to souls passing through the realm of the dead before they are reincarnated.