After Ghost Marriage with My Arch-Rival - Chapter 8

When Liu Xiangyi walked onto the balcony, his attention was immediately monopolized by that blood-soaked palm. He didn’t even notice the little crow on the railing quietly taking flight, disappearing into the branches of a banyan tree in the courtyard to hide.

He walked up to Zhong Qinhuai and gave the bag of medicine in his hand a light shake. As if fearing a misunderstanding, he offered a professional smile and a clarifying statement:

“Don’t read too much into this, President Zhong. I am definitely not a ‘love-brain.’ Buying this medicine is purely an act of basic human gratitude; there are absolutely no personal feelings involved.”

The moment he finished, he caught a flicker of a subtle expression on Zhong Qinhuai’s face.

Then, Zhong Qinhuai replied hollowly, “Since you brought it up, allow me to clarify as well—saving you just now was a forced reflex caused by our ghost-marriage bond. You shouldn’t read too much into it either, President Liu.”

Liu Xiangyi: “…”

He sat in the chair beside Zhong Qinhuai and opened the bag of medicine. As he rummaged through for the iodine, he asked casually, “So, even though you’re a ghost now, you still get hurt just like a human, huh?”

Zhong Qinhuai replied frostily, “Of course it’s different. When I was human, I don’t recall President Liu having such a ‘basic sense of gratitude’.”

Liu Xiangyi’s hand paused. What’s with this passive-aggressive tone? How did I offend him this time? Men really are fickle.

He reached out and grabbed Zhong Qinhuai’s injured wrist. The moment his fingertips touched the skin, he felt a sharp chill. As expected, a ghost’s body temperature was significantly lower than a human’s.

He picked up a cotton swab, dipped it in iodine, and began to disinfect the wound.

A quiet stillness settled over the balcony. Zhong Qinhuai stopped talking, resting his chin on his other hand as he looked down, silently watching the process.

A wall lamp hung slanted on the balcony, casting a warm yellow glow that pooled in Liu Xiangyi’s lowered eyes.

Liu Xiangyi was born with “willow-leaf eyes.” His grandmother, an expert in fate and physiognomy, had once told him that this eye shape was incredibly rare—curved and slender like a willow leaf, possessing a hint of natural charm. On a woman, they were the legendary “seductive eyes”; on a man, they lent a unique aura, a delicate refinement that blurred gender lines.

Even now, though he wasn’t smiling, the slight curve of his eyes gave the illusion of a smile—less flighty than peach-blossom eyes, and more composed.

“Especially in a man, willow-leaf eyes are trouble. In ancient times, he’d be the ‘femme fatale’ consort who brings down an empire. If you ever meet one, Qinhuai, whatever you do, don’t be his friend.”

Zhong Qinhuai had always been a direct, obedient grandson. When they were kids and this “President Liu” had tried to give him a lollipop, he hadn’t accepted it.

But back then, the young Liu Xiangyi had been incredibly arrogant, provoking him by saying he was a “scaredy-cat” who didn’t even dare to eat a lollipop.

Zhong Qinhuai had stood up abruptly and pulled a tiny crow from his pocket. “Then do you dare to pinch this? It bites!”

And so, their contest of “who is the scaredy-cat” began. It had lasted from that day until now, a never-ending battle of nerves.

They had never been friends. Not for a single day. Thus, he was still his grandmother’s obedient grandson.

Zhong Qinhuai stared unblinkingly.

Liu Xiangyi was currently focused on the cotton swab, dabbing iodine onto the palm bit by bit. He was being quite meticulous, but the gaze from above was too intense to ignore.

He looked up. Zhong Qinhuai was staring straight at him without blinking. With his back to the wall lamp, no light could reach his eyes; those pitch-black pupils hid emotions that were impossible to decipher.

Arch-rivals, Liu Xiangyi thought. Naturally, he has nothing good to look at me for. He was used to it. He looked down and continued his work.

A medical video was playing on his phone: “To avoid infection during disinfection, change the swab as soon as it gets dirty. Don’t try to save effort by using one swab for the whole process.”

Liu Xiangyi followed the instructions to the letter. He swiped away a bit of blood, tossed the dirty swab, and reached for a new one. Seeing him tirelessly repeat this cycle, Zhong Qinhuai spoke up abruptly.

“Don’t you think this is a waste of time, President Liu?”

The blood on the palm was being patiently wiped away, replaced by layers of red medicinal liquid.

Liu Xiangyi gripped Zhong Qinhuai’s hand, checking the wound repeatedly as he hummed a laugh. “It is a waste of time, but what can I do? I’m ‘nurturing a secret crush’ on you, after all.”

He looked up to catch a reaction.

Sure enough, Zhong Qinhuai’s expression turned subtle instantly. It seemed hearing Liu Xiangyi admit it so openly and generously was a shock. He was so surprised he forgot to retort, simply blinking as he stared at Liu Xiangyi in silence.

Finally, I’ve got you stumped. A sly smile flashed in Liu Xiangyi’s eyes.

He had figured it out! Since the misunderstanding had already happened and he couldn’t explain the truth, he might as well use this excuse to annoy him from time to time. Besides, for Zhong Qinhuai, being liked by his arch-rival probably felt like a curse.

However, after Zhong Qinhuai snapped out of it, he seemed pleased? A playful glint danced in his eyes. “Then tell me, President Liu, why exactly did you fall for me? And when did this crush start?”

Liu Xiangyi: “…”

He had expected Zhong Qinhuai to feel like he was sitting on pins and needles, but what was with this look of enjoyment? Why did he sound so smug?

When Liu Xiangyi didn’t answer, Zhong Qinhuai even gave his wrist a little shake, urging him. “Why so quiet? Are you afraid to say it to my face?”

Liu Xiangyi let out a huff. “What’s there to be afraid of?”

As he applied the dressing, he arched an eyebrow. “I just love how you’re incredibly narcissistic, passive-aggressive, and a total nag. Most people find it hard to manage all three at once, but you make it look easy.”

Zhong Qinhuai: “…”

Seeing the ghost’s speechless expression, Liu Xiangyi was in a fantastic mood. After bandaging the hand, he began packing up the mountain of medicine on the table.

Zhong Qinhuai’s gaze landed on Liu Xiangyi’s own hand. “Aren’t you going to treat yours?”

Liu Xiangyi lifted his hand. He had been in such a rush to get down the mountain earlier that he’d tripped, leaving several shallow red scrapes from a sharp rock. It wasn’t serious, certainly nothing compared to Zhong Qinhuai’s injury.

He picked up a swab, did a cursory disinfection, slapped on some medicine, and tossed the swab into the trash. Done.

Zhong Qinhuai frowned slightly. “Are you always this perfunctory with yourself?”

Liu Xiangyi didn’t care. He stood up with the bag of medicine and smiled. “Now you know how ‘deep’ my love for you is, President Zhong.”

Zhong Qinhuai: “…”

Seeing him speechless yet again, Liu Xiangyi laughed heartily. As he turned to leave, he suddenly remembered something and looked back. “Don’t let the bandage get wet, okay? Can you manage that?”

Zhong Qinhuai, still sitting at the round table with his chin in his hand, looked up with a faint smile. “Depends on my mood.”

Liu Xiangyi: “…”

Back in the guest room, Liu Xiangyi took a shower. By the time he came out, the night was deep. Between the stress of the hunt and running around for medicine, even his “Ultimate Yang” body—which usually suffered from insomnia was finally feeling the weight of exhaustion.

As he reached the master bedroom door, he saw Zhong Qinhuai already lying on his side of the coffin. Liu Xiangyi paused for a heartbeat, then walked in, feigning calm.

“I thought you said ghosts don’t sleep at night?”

Zhong Qinhuai said languidly, “Since you have such a crush on me, I’ll graciously satisfy your wish and continue sleeping with you.”

Then, echoing Liu Xiangyi’s words from earlier, he added nonchalantly, “Don’t misinterpret this. This is purely out of ‘gratitude’ for you dressing my wound. No personal feelings involved.”

Liu Xiangyi: “…”

He suddenly felt like he had shot himself in the foot. But if Zhong Qinhuai could lie there with his arch-rival like it was nothing, so could he!

Liu Xiangyi took a deep breath. Lights out. Lie down.

It was easier the second time. The first time they had shared the coffin, he’d felt incredibly awkward, but now he was becoming accustomed to it. At the very least, Zhong Qinhuai was a polite sleeper. Once he lay down, he remained in that “sleeping beauty” pose—not moving, not rolling over, and possessing no bad habits.

Quiet. Still.

Even the slight ghostly chill radiating from his body felt perfect to someone with Liu Xiangyi’s constitution, soothing his internal heat. He just had to ignore the overwhelming presence of such a large person right next to him.

Liu Xiangyi closed his eyes and was just about to drift off into a daze when a hollow voice drifted from beside him:

“Not going to steal a kiss tonight?”

Liu Xiangyi: “?”

Recalling how Zhong Qinhuai had responded when told not to let his wound get wet, Liu Xiangyi fired back with his own words:

“President Zhong, that depends on my mood, too.”

Zhong Qinhuai: “…”

Zhong Qinhuai waited in the darkness for a while. It wasn’t until the breathing beside him became light and rhythmic, confirming that Liu Xiangyi was fast asleep, that he raised his uninjured hand.

His fingers traced a slow, empty circle in the air as if summoning something. A second later, wisps of black mist drifted from his fingertips.

With a flick of his finger, the mist floated silently toward Liu Xiangyi, settling onto the palm that had been scraped by the sharp stone.

The moment the black mist seeped into his skin, the shallow red marks—along with the traces of the medicine applied earlier vanished without a trace.

The next day was Saturday. Since he didn’t have to work, Liu Xiangyi hadn’t set an alarm and was surprised to find himself sleeping until nearly noon.

The curtains in the master bedroom remained tightly drawn, keeping the room in a dim haze. Liu Xiangyi turned his head; Zhong Qinhuai was still lying beside him, eyes closed in deep sleep.

Liu Xiangyi sat up quietly. Just as he was about to toss back the covers and get out of bed, something caught his eye. He looked down at his palm.

Liu Xiangyi: “?”

It healed overnight?

He turned his hand over several times, inspecting it from every angle. It wasn’t an illusion! The red scrapes were gone.

Was that medicine really that miraculous?

He glanced back at Zhong Qinhuai. The ghost lay with his hands folded over his abdomen; the white gauze wrapped the previous night was now stained with traces of fresh blood.

Liu Xiangyi: “?”

Perhaps Zhong Qinhuai’s wound was just much deeper than mine, he thought. Not dwelling on it, he got up and left.

Back in his own room, he received a phone call from Zhang Ruolan, who announced he was calling off the ghost marriage.

“President Liu, you have no idea how eerie it’s been! Ever since I was swarmed by those crows on the mountain, a crow flies to my bedside every single night. In the dead of night, those ghastly caws have startled me awake more times than I can count.”

“I get it now. It’s a sign from Zhong Qinhuai—he doesn’t want a ghost marriage with me.”

Zhang Ruolan sighed. “It makes sense. He was incredibly cold to me when he was alive; it’s not like he’d suddenly agree to marry me now that he’s dead.”

He paused, letting out a self-deprecating laugh. “Between us, and don’t laugh, President Liu, I used to view you as my romantic rival.”

Liu Xiangyi: “?”

Zhang Ruolan explained, “You know how Zhong Qinhuai was; he acted like he wasn’t interested in anything. But he was different with you. He always seemed to be staring at you. We used to whisper among ourselves, wondering if he was secretly in love with you.”

Liu Xiangyi smiled.

This theory was just as absurd as the idea that he had a crush on Zhong Qinhuai.

After all, Zhong Qinhuai had literally taken him to see the “wild vegetable hillside” last night to warn him against being a “love-brain.” How could someone like that possibly have a crush on him?