Bai Ru keenly noticed that whenever Kuang Feifan intended to mention last night’s events, his emotions would betray him with subtle fluctuations, an almost subconscious wave of anxiety, unease, and fear. She knew the previous night’s experience had inflicted a profound shock on his psyche.
Bai Ru poured him another glass of water, placing it in Kuang Feifan’s hand. She moved her chair closer to the bedside and spoke softly, “Relax. Trust me, you’re safe here. If you don't want to talk, I can try hypnotizing you. It might help settle your nerves, or even let you forget the unpleasant experiences.”
Kuang Feifan slowly took a sip of water, considered for a moment, and then shook his head. “No, let me try to tell it myself. Since it happened, I need to face it directly. I remember you saying that whatever it is—PTSD—requires the proper venting of emotions for treatment. I certainly don't want to end up taking antidepressants.”
Bai Ru couldn’t help but smile faintly. “That’s called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. You’re right, early stages require psychological therapy. However, I don’t think you’re suffering from that particular condition right now. But, suit yourself. I support your decision. It’s just that if you recall it alone, you’re likely to miss details, or you might even weave your own fantasies into the narrative. None of that is a huge issue, though. What worries me most is whether your spirit can handle the recollection.”
Kuang Feifan shrugged. “Let’s try. I think I have a pretty thick skin. Didn't you often praise my iron will before?”
Bai Ru lightly tapped him. “When did I praise you? You were always praising yourself. But it is true that you’re thick-skinned.”
Bai Ru strove to project an air of ease and cheerfulness, helping him relax.
Kuang Feifan naturally understood her intent and feigned a carefree, smiling expression. “That’s right. If I weren't thick-skinned, how could I have chased you down in the first place?”
Bai Ru shot him a quick, exasperated glance and couldn't help but laugh herself.
After a moment of shared amusement, she said, “Oh, right. The plainclothes officers protecting you outside are still there. Do you want me to let one in to take your statement, saving you from having to recount everything tomorrow?”
Kuang Feifan took a deep breath, then turned serious. “Ru, could you ensure he doesn't overhear our conversation?”
Bai Ru paused for a beat, then gestured toward the room. “The soundproofing here is excellent. We could speak inside, and they wouldn't hear a thing outside.”
Kuang Feifan pondered for a moment, then spoke cautiously. “I… don't want to reveal the true nature of what happened.”
Bai Ru thought for a moment and instantly understood. “You’re afraid it’s too mysterious, and no one will believe you if you tell them.”
Kuang Feifan gave a wry smile. “He Shaoqing isn't awake yet to corroborate my testimony. If I say he was bitten by a ghost inside that small building, do you think the police will believe me? Furthermore, can they even investigate something like that?”
Bai Ru remained silent. She knew Kuang Feifan had a point. Ghosts attacking people had always been the stuff of movies and novels; in real life, no one believed it—or rather, no one wanted to believe it.
She looked at Kuang Feifan and asked very seriously, “How do you plan to explain yesterday’s events to the police?”
Kuang Feifan now adopted a careless expression, scratching his head somewhat uncertainly. “I was thinking I could say it was an unknown wild beast attack, or maybe just say that I… have amnesia.”
Hearing this, Bai Ru broke into a smile. “That cliché excuse. I like it.”
Kuang Feifan nodded excitedly. “You think the amnesia story works too? I like it as well.”
Bai Ru hummed lightly. “Of course. First, when He Shaoqing wakes up, you’ll have a witness. If he hasn’t lost his memory, your experiences can corroborate each other. Second, your excuse can pull me into the situation too.”
Kuang Feifan chuckled, offering no words, seemingly conceding the point.
Having resolved that matter, Kuang Feifan recalled something else. “Right, that ‘Mani Stone’ talisman you gave me—what exactly is that treasure? It seems incredibly effective. Also, that phrase you taught me, ‘Lin Bing’—who exactly is Lin Bing? Is he your… master? Or maybe your… senior apprentice brother or something?”
Kuang Feifan had been about to say “ex-boyfriend,” but he caught himself just in time. He feared that saying it would displease Bai Ru. One shouldn't underestimate her; though usually gentle and refined, her “Two-Finger Pinch” technique was already perfected to the point of mastery.
His questions made Bai Ru laugh. “That ‘Mani Stone’ pendant was given to me by an old lama I met while substituting at a Hope Primary School in Tibet, helping out a friend. It indeed contains the power of his intention. If you ever get a chance to go to Tibet, you’ll see Mani Piles of all sizes everywhere. Every Mani Pile is stacked from one Mani Stone after another. A Mani Stone carved with a Buddha image, combined with the old lama's blessings, possesses a spiritual energy that will protect you, whether you believe in it or not.”
“As for ‘Lin Bing’…” Bai Ru deliberately drew out the word, a mischievous glint flashing in her eyes. It was clear she had guessed the unsaid implication in Kuang Feifan’s final thought. Kuang Feifan couldn't help but carefully avert his gaze, offering a sheepish smile.
Bai Ru didn't bother pressing him. She continued, “‘Lin Bing’ isn't a person. Actually, what I told you were the first two characters of the Nine Syllable Mantra. ‘Lin’ is the lín for temporary, and ‘Bing’ is the bīng for soldier. Originally, each character required a corresponding hand seal, but fortunately, you have the talisman in hand. Even without the hand seals, the Nine Syllable Mantra can still exert a certain degree of effectiveness, acting as a deterrent against ghosts and monsters.”
“The Nine Syllable Mantra?” Kuang Feifan seemed to grasp something and asked curiously, “Is it that thing, ‘Lin Bing Dou Zhe Jie Zhen Lie Zai Qian’ []? I remember watching a Hong Kong drama with you where the female lead said that all the time. So, it can be used in parts?”
Bai Ru glared at him, feigning annoyance. “All you remember is the female lead! When it comes to important matters, your mind drifts to fiction. And you think Lin Bing is my senior apprentice brother?”
“Uh…” Kuang Feifan felt a headache coming on. No wonder people said women were hard to handle. Not only were they difficult to manage, but they could remember a single misplaced word for almost a lifetime, tracking it down no matter how far you fled.
Kuang Feifan’s expression suddenly darkened, and he spoke with a degree of dejection. “Right, Ru, I have something to apologize for. I… couldn’t keep the ‘Mani Stone’ talisman you gave me in the end. I’m sorry.”
Without thinking, Bai Ru reached out and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “Ow!” Kuang Feifan gasped, instinctively sucking in a sharp breath, but then realized the force of her pinch wasn't very strong.
“Why apologize?” Bai Ru pretended to be cross. “The talisman is there to keep you safe. Now that you’ve returned safely, there’s no need to worry about the material object. At least, it truly protected you, didn't it?”
Kuang Feifan nodded emphatically. “Yes. It was amazing. Thanks to that talisman, and also that jade Buddha pendant He Shaoqing was wearing—without their protection, neither of us might have made it back.”
“The jade Buddha pendant?” Bai Ru caught the keyword in Kuang Feifan’s sentence, but she didn’t press further. She could see that Kuang Feifan’s spirit had relaxed considerably. This was the moment to let him recount his experiences.
Bai Ru clearly understood the situation: when to joke, and when to be the best kind of listener. So, as Kuang Feifan began to describe the experience of seeing ghosts in the small building, she did not interrupt or interject. She simply sat patiently beside him, gently placing her hand in his palm, leaning slightly forward, resting her arm against his.
Kuang Feifan spoke slowly, often pausing to collect his thoughts. But whenever he felt Bai Ru’s soft hand clasped in his, a profound sense of security would rise within him.
Kuang Feifan sometimes had a touch of machismo; in the past, he would never have held a woman’s hand to seek security. But now, not only did he feel no loss of face or masculine bearing, but instead, he felt a deeper connection forming between his heart and Bai Ru’s.
Time slipped by, one speaking, one listening. When Kuang Feifan finished even recounting the nightmare he’d had, the sky outside was just beginning to lighten. Unconsciously, the two had sat up together all night.
After a brief silence, Bai Ru slowly sat upright, but she did not withdraw her hand from his. In fact, their hands had somehow intertwined, fingers laced together.
Kuang Feifan straightened up and was the first to break the silence. “Are those ghosts still not dead?”
Bai Ru laughed. “Only the dead become ghosts. How can a ghost die? At most, their soul is scattered. But the paths of humans and ghosts diverge; I’m not entirely clear what happens after they become ghosts—whether they go to hell or reincarnate. The true process will only be known after we ourselves die.”
Kuang Feifan asked, puzzled, “Then what should one do upon encountering a ghost?”
Bai Ru was silent for a good while before replying, “Simply put, it’s either transcendence or scattering. It’s said that after death, a soul should immediately enter the cycle of reincarnation. A ghost appears in our world only when the final lingering resentment of the person’s life hasn't dissipated. Scattering means directly erasing the ghost. Transcendence means resolving that lifetime’s resentment, in hopes the ghost can reincarnate again. But nobody knows how a ghost is reborn after transcendence.”
Kuang Feifan tested the waters tentatively. “You… have done that?”
Bai Ru took a breath. “Yes. Occasionally.”
Kuang Feifan could finally be certain: this ex-girlfriend of his—or the girlfriend he was currently trying to win back—was a true Celestial Master who captured ghosts.
When he voiced this realization, Bai Ru couldn’t help covering her mouth and smiling, which made Kuang Feifan’s eyes instantly light up.
“You can call it whatever you like,” Bai Ru explained. “Ghost-catching is just a side job for me; I don't have a formal title.”
Kuang Feifan desperately wanted to kiss the hand of Bai Ru he held in his own, but before he could raise his hand, a question suddenly flashed through his mind, and he blurted out, “Since the ghosts in that small building didn't die, will they come out?”