"Hehe, didn't you see there's someone in the back seat? How can I give you a ride?"
I snorted and said something before continuing to drive forward.
The middle-aged man rubbed his eyes, not seeing anyone in the back seat of my car. He became somewhat angry and embarrassed, and rushed over to grab my car seat.
"What nonsense are you spouting? There's no one in the back seat. Hurry up and give me a ride, or I'll beat you up."
Has this guy had a few drinks and lost his sense of self, or is he just naturally arrogant?
When he pulled me like that, the car swayed, and the ghost in the back seat seemed to be startled as well, tightening its grip on my waist.
The cool touch seeped through the clothes.
I turned my head, stared at the drunk man's hand gripping the hood of my car, and said, word by word:
"let go."
The drunkard glared, reeking of alcohol, and instead of loosening his grip, he tightened his hold even more, waving the bottle in his other hand as a threat:
"Don't push your luck, kid! It'll kill you to give me a ride this late at night. Fine, I'll pay for the locksmith service!"
Who's short of money for unlocking?
But since you're picking a fight now, don't blame me for being impolite.
"I already told you there are people in the back seat. If you can get him out of the car, I'll agree to give you a ride."
As I spoke, I conjured a yellow talisman.
The ghost in the back seat was startled by my movements and loosened its grip on my waist.
But instead of throwing the yellow talisman at him, I stuck it on the drunkard's forehead.
"What the hell are you doing, pretending to be a ghost?"
The drunkard grabbed my hand and slurred, "..."
I smiled and withdrew my hand, gesturing with my lips to make him look towards the car seat:
"Here, take a look and then we'll talk."
In the back seat, the grotesque ghost that had been sitting quietly now slowly twisted its neck, its empty eyes, with only the whites showing, staring straight at the drunkard.
The drunkard's gesture of waving the bottle froze instantly. He blinked, seemingly not realizing what he was seeing.
The next moment, his face, which had been flushed from the alcohol and anger, lost its color at a visible speed, turning as pale as paper in an instant.
He saw it clearly.
I saw clearly that sallow, swollen face with distorted features and a grin that stretched to its ears.
I also saw his withered, chicken-claw-like, long, black fingertips—his ghostly hands.
"Holy shit!"
Unfortunately, the drunkard was uncultured and could only get by with a single "fuck!"
He gripped the back seat as if electrocuted, then let go and staggered backward.
"Holy crap! It's a ghost!"
He let out a piercing scream, then scrambled and crawled forward.
His speed was so fast that he didn't seem like someone who had drunk too much. Even Su Bingtian would probably have to admit defeat in front of him.
He probably hates his parents for not giving him two more legs.
"Damn it, with that kind of guts, he dares to pretend to be a gangster?" I shook my head.
"At least it's quiet now," I muttered, turning on the ignition and slowly driving home.
After riding for about ten more minutes, I got closer and closer to my old neighborhood.
Just as I was about to turn into the relatively secluded path in front of the residential area, the ghost in the back seat suddenly made a new move.
His hand, which had been resting on my waist, suddenly patted my back gently.
"What?" I asked calmly without turning around.
The ghost didn't reply, like a mute. I didn't know what was wrong with him, and I was about to continue driving forward.
Suddenly, an extremely stiff voice drifted into my ears:
"Don't go ahead."
This ghost probably hasn't spoken in a long time and has almost forgotten how to speak. I was stunned for a while before I understood.
I frowned, subconsciously slowed down, and sharply scanned the shortcut leading to my house ahead.
Two streetlights are broken, and those guys at the municipal government who are just drawing salaries haven't come to fix them yet!
Speaking of this, I get really angry. This street light has been broken for almost half a year, and those bastards just act like they can't see it, even though the surrounding residents have been complaining about it.
To be honest, at first glance, this place doesn't seem any different from usual.
"What's going on up ahead?" I asked in a low voice, feeling somewhat surprised and uncertain.
As the saying goes, "Listen to human advice and you'll eat your fill; listen to ghost advice and the same applies."
The guy stammered and couldn't say anything.
I was also a bit tired and didn't want to have another fierce battle with the ghosts I encountered, so I decided to take a detour.
After riding for another twenty minutes, I finally saw the gate of the old neighborhood where I live.
The security booth at the entrance was lit up, and an old man inside was holding a thermos and watching videos; at least there was a semblance of human life in it.
I went closer to take a look and saw that the old man was watching videos of beautiful women.
"Grandpa, you're so old, why do you still like watching these things?"
"Hehe, you don't understand, you're old but your heart is young. Looking at beautiful things helps prolong life. I'm doing this for the sake of longevity."
The old man chuckled, not caring at all, and even liked and recommended the video.
"Grandpa really knows how to live life to the fullest." I gave him a thumbs up, then rode my bike to the bike return area at the entrance of our community.
I stopped there, stood on one leg, and said without turning my head, "Alright, we're here. Get off."
There was no movement from the back seat.
"What, do I have to invite you to my house for a visit?" My voice turned a little cold.
As soon as I finished speaking, I felt the claws on my waist loosen, followed by a chill.
I looked back, and there was no one in the back seat anymore—no, I should say there was no ghost there.
"What the hell is going on?"
I was quite annoyed. It was all that damned remnant of the Fangshi's soul's fault for casting this damn curse on me.
To this day, I still don't know the true meaning of this curse. I used to think it just attracted ghosts.
It seems unlikely now; perhaps it has some other special function.
However, given that guy's immense hatred for me, it probably won't have any beneficial effect.
It's too late now, and it's not appropriate to go see the master now.
I've decided to go to my master's place tomorrow morning and ask him to take a look at my situation.
He's a very knowledgeable old man, and he's seen far more evil magic than I have. He's sure to be able to point me in the right direction.
When I got to the bottom of the building, the stairs were pitch black. I reached out and banged on the lights a few times, but the motion-activated lights still didn't turn on.
Now I'm a little confused. Is it a ghost, or is our community's property management just so incompetent that they don't even know how to fix a broken light?
After all, I haven't been back for a few days, and I didn't even know the light was broken.
After cursing a few times, I turned on my phone's flashlight and went upstairs in the dark.
When I got to the door, I checked my pockets and realized I hadn't brought my keys.
Lifting the rug by the door, I was suddenly struck by the sight of congealed blood beneath it.
The key lay amidst the bloodstains, but the surrounding area was empty, without a trace of blood.
I couldn't help but smile. That hanged ghost from before was back, and he was actually guarding my house.
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