Chapter 1

Thunder roared fiercely, one peal following another, bolts of lightning tearing across the sky as if determined to rend apart the thick darkness and illuminate the world with light. Yet the black clouds, like spilled ink, swiftly reclaimed every patch that the lightning dared brighten, staining them even darker than before.

Someone captured this violent spectacle above the heavens and uploaded it online: “Which fellow cultivator is undergoing their tribulation?” The post was soon flooded with countless so-called “fellow cultivators” liking and joking, laughing away merrily.

Little did they know, many of the truly powerful exorcists watching the lightning in the sky were so terrified, their souls nearly fled their bodies. Even the president and elders of the Exorcist Association in the distant capital were alarmed, gazing in horror at the thunder over River City that looked even more terrifying than the legendary Nine-Nine Heavenly Tribulation. They each took out their most trusted methods—divining, calculating, and consulting their arts—but their brows only furrowed deeper, their faces growing ever grimmer.

An old Taoist with snow-white hair coughed up a mouthful of blood onto his compass, his voice hoarse with terror: “Heaven’s Punishment descends—surely a Ghost King has arisen! Great calamity is upon the human world!”

A wrinkled medium’s crystal ball shattered to pieces in her trembling hands. She nearly collapsed, barely kept upright by her quick-witted disciples. Her face was etched with terror: “I saw it—a sea of blood, an overwhelming hatred seeking to annihilate all living things! A Ghost King has returned for vengeance, carrying boundless wrath!”

The others grew more anxious, immediately debating among themselves. “How can such a powerful Ghost King be born again, when we’ve already cleared the world’s resentments so many times? We must send someone at once! Under no circumstances can the Ghost King descend and bring disaster upon the human world!”

“We should inform the Special Administration Bureau as well. They’ve always wanted to control our Exorcist Association, and lately their actions have been increasingly bold. Let them take the lead this time—see what they’re really capable of. Hmph! If they’re useless, they ought to realize it and go home.”

The Special Administration Bureau, barely a few years since its founding, also detected the abnormal thunderstorm over River City and received the Exorcist Association’s warning. They immediately dispatched their Special Response Unit to River City: “Swear to protect the lives of the people at all costs—destroy the Ghost King!”

In River City itself, rain poured in torrents as lightning danced and thunder boomed. An old, somewhat battered city bus sped through the storm. From within came the repeated, desperate screams of a woman—each one urging the driver to go faster, even faster.

There were few passengers on board, but all of them were deeply concerned for the woman, constantly encouraging her: “We’re almost at the hospital! Hang in there!”

The woman was just over seven months pregnant—it was far too early to be giving birth. But just as she neared home, something struck her foot with force and knocked her down. Blood began to stream from beneath her. The bus driver, seeing this, stopped at once and, with the help of the passengers, carried her aboard. All were agreed: get her to the hospital as fast as possible.

Fortunately, the heavy rain had cleared most pedestrians from the roads. The driver blared the horn and sped through red lights, while the few cars on the streets quickly pulled aside, sensing the urgency.

Just one more turn and they would reach the hospital. The driver began to relax.

Suddenly, a white sedan sped into view from the opposite direction. No matter how loudly the bus honked, the sedan didn’t slow, instead heading directly for them.

The driver’s eyes went wide. Though a veteran of countless emergencies, his mind went blank, and he forgot he could simply turn the wheel.

Inside the sedan, the fashionable young woman driving was faring no better. Her face was ashen, her body rigid and unresponsive. The car’s heater was blasting, yet the air felt as cold as a morgue.

She desperately wanted to turn the wheel, but her hands wouldn’t obey—no matter what she tried, they wouldn’t move. Her foot seemed rooted to the accelerator.

“Hee hee hee!” The miniature bobblehead Buddha on her dashboard shook its head merrily, emitting a series of grating laughs. Its slitted eyes gleamed with a sinister red light.

Even Sun Jiayuan, no matter how dim-witted, knew she’d been set up.

With the bus drawing ever closer, despair engulfed her. She thought bitterly that after this crash, she’d probably die horribly. Even if she survived by some miracle, she’d be condemned as the villain by public opinion. People would say she was a brainless woman driver, speeding in the rain, hitting the gas instead of the brake, and crashing into a bus—bringing disaster not only upon herself, but a busload of innocents.

The real mastermind would not let it end there. They’d reveal her identity, let everyone know she was the Sun family heir—barely in charge of the company and already causing disaster. Her parents would be disgraced, perhaps even fall ill from the shock. The company’s shares would plummet, and rival corporations would swarm like sharks scenting blood, eager to tear a chunk from the Sun family...

And in the end, the one to benefit would be...

“Big sister, I begged for this for ages and finally got it—it’s been blessed! Keep it in your car, and it will surely keep you safe,” she remembered her silly brother saying, holding out the mini Buddha with a goofy smile.

Her gaze shifted from his silly face to the eerie grin of the bobblehead Buddha in his hands. Her despair steadied, and her will to survive flared anew. She was certain her foolish, naïve brother, who hoped to live off her dividends, would never try to harm her. Someone must have used him.

Perhaps it was sheer survival instinct, or maybe she just didn’t want her gullible brother to bear the guilt of killing his own sister. Either way, she managed to muster the strength to regain control of her hands, just enough to nudge the steering wheel and slightly alter the sedan’s course, allowing it to barely scrape past the bus.

But before she could feel relieved, something even stranger occurred—the sedan, without slowing, suddenly rotated sideways, as if an invisible giant hand had grabbed the vehicle and aligned it once again directly in the bus’s path.

It all happened in an instant. The two vehicles were now so close that the drivers could see each other’s pallid, terrified faces in the headlights.

Just as collision seemed inevitable, two pale skeletal hands gently settled onto each car’s hood. A white skeleton appeared between the two vehicles.

Miraculously, both speeding vehicles halted abruptly as if rooted to the spot, with no sense of inertia—almost as if they had always been stationary. The passengers felt nothing.

Boom!

A thunderclap split the air. A bolt of lightning crashed down onto the skeleton standing between the vehicles, the electricity arcing along its outstretched bones and enveloping both cars in blinding light.

When the lightning faded, everyone was stunned. They, who had believed death was certain, were unscathed—in fact, they felt as if they’d just had some invigorating electrotherapy, their bodies warm and comfortable.

Sun Jiayuan felt especially refreshed—her fatigue from working overtime vanished, her shoulders felt light, as though she had shed a heavy burden. The bobblehead Buddha on her dashboard had shattered into pieces.

Instinctively, everyone looked at the spot between the cars—now empty, the skeleton vanished as quickly as it had appeared, as if it had been a hallucination.

The people in both vehicles looked at the narrow space between them, then at each other’s bewildered, frightened faces. No one dared move; the air itself seemed frozen.

Knock, knock, knock.

A sudden rapping at the window startled Sun Jiayuan. She turned to see a young man standing outside, bent forward, his dark, emotionless eyes peering in at her.

“Excuse me, miss, would you... give me a ride?” His voice was rough, his manner somewhat odd and slow, as if he hadn’t spoken in years and was struggling to remember how.

Forcing herself to remain calm, Sun Jiayuan studied him. He was tall, dressed in a tailored black overcoat that had been fashionable some seven or eight years ago. His features were strikingly handsome yet oddly familiar—his deep, cold eyes darker than their whites, his expression remote and inhuman.

Under the flickering streetlights, raindrops glistened on his skin, making his face seem even paler and more bloodless, intensifying his unnatural aura.

“Of course,” she replied. It wasn’t that she was brave—she was nearly scared to death. Anyone could see this man was not normal, yet she was certain that without his sudden appearance, she would already be dead.

No, she didn’t believe it was mere coincidence—two supernatural events in such a short span. One being appeared, saved them, and vanished, only for another to immediately request a ride.

Most likely, the skeletal figure who saved them was this mysterious man himself.

Giving a ride to her savior was the least she could do.

So what if he wasn’t human, and his motives were unclear? At worst, things would end as they almost had.

Having rehearsed this scenario in her mind, Sun Jiayuan was calm enough to start the engine once the man, still trailing droplets of rain, climbed into her backseat. She drove toward his destination.

After the white sedan departed, the bus passengers remained dazed until the piercing cry of a newborn broke the silence and snapped them back to reality.

They blinked in confusion—“A baby? But I don’t recall anyone carrying a baby onto the bus…”

The pregnant woman exclaimed, “Ah! It’s me! I—I’ve given birth! But I didn’t feel a thing!”

Panic erupted within the bus as chaos ensued.

The driver resumed racing toward the hospital.

When they arrived, the doctors, after examining both mother and child, were astonished. The baby, born at seven months and skinny—barely five pounds—should by all rights have needed intensive care, and survival would be uncertain.

Yet, the infant was perfectly healthy, brimming with vitality, its constitution far surpassing that of full-term babies. Even the mother, who had been bleeding profusely, was in such good health it seemed she’d simply gone to the restroom rather than given birth.

The doctors could only exclaim that it was nothing short of a medical miracle.

******

The white sedan reached its destination without incident, stopping in front of an apartment building. The man thanked her courteously, got out, and strode toward the entrance.

Sun Jiayuan steeled herself and called after him, her voice trembling, “Sir, thank you for saving my life. May I have your name or some way to contact you, so my family and I can properly express our gratitude someday?”

The man hesitated, did not answer her first question, but did recite a phone number—a number that, despite the passage of time, he remembered perfectly. Then, without another word, he disappeared into the building.

Sun Jiayuan’s eyes sparkled—he hadn’t denied being her savior. It must have been him.

As she mused, the mysterious, powerful man reappeared beside her window. Her heart jumped as he spoke again, his voice now more fluid, “Ahem, do I look more like a person now? I mean, a normal person—not someone people mistake for a ghost at first sight?”

Sun Jiayuan was speechless.

But seeing his uneasy expression—so much like her silly brother when meeting his crush—she suddenly felt no fear at all. So what if he wasn’t human? He was her savior, and seemed to be about her brother’s age.

She smiled, a genuine, relaxed smile. “You look fine, as long as your eyes aren’t too cold, your expression not so stiff, and, oh, remember to keep your feet on the ground. A bit of mud on your shoes would be even better.”

“…”

Only then did Qi Yue, who thought he’d been doing a good job of acting human, realize his feet hadn’t touched the ground the whole time. He felt a little embarrassed and quietly let his feet settle onto the pavement.

Feeling there was nothing else amiss, Qi Yue strode off toward the building.

Sun Jiayuan silently cheered him on—wishing him success, and hoping he wouldn’t scare anyone.

As Qi Yue’s figure entered the apartment block, a sudden “crackle” sounded—the entire building’s lights went out, plunging it into darkness.

Sun Jiayuan: …

With such dramatic effects, how could he not frighten people? She wondered just who the person was who mattered so much to her savior.

She then recalled that this building housed artists from Trend Entertainment. Her silly brother had mentioned he hated one of the artists, as they were both participating in a supernatural reality show. There was a live pre-show “ghost game” at midnight tonight—about now, in fact. She hoped that poor artist wouldn’t be too frightened.

Looking up, Sun Jiayuan finally noticed the rain had stopped. The sky, washed clean by the storm, was cloudless, and for once, even in the glare of the city lights, one could clearly see the sparkling Milky Way, stars brilliant and close—almost within reach.

Throughout River City, countless people marveled at the rare celestial spectacle, snapping photos and videos in excitement.

Even more shocked were the special armed forces and summoned exorcists racing toward the city, prepared for sacrifice.

Wasn’t Heaven’s Punishment meant to have started? Wasn’t a Ghost King supposed to descend? Why had the Punishment ended so quickly? Where was the Ghost King? Why did it feel more like what the netizens said—a cultivator passing their tribulation, and succeeding?