After the Black Moonlight’s "Death Escape" Failed [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 78

Chapter 78: Ghosts

◎She softened her heart toward this stubborn fellow◎

This was Jiao Qingyin’s first experience with spiritual drifting, and consequently, her first time discovering that as a ghost, she actually got motion sickness… or rather, “person-sickness.”

Every time Wen Fengyue turned a corner or braked, Jiao Qingyin felt a jolt. After only a short while, she regretted not possessing the girl directly. If she weren’t tethered within a three-meter radius of Wen Fengyue, she would have abandoned her long ago to let her run while she found a place to rest.

Soon, Wen Fengyue reached the deserted Arts Building. It was taller than the teaching blocks, allowing Jiao Qingyin to take in the entire scene behind them. As the end-of-class bell rang, a massive crowd in school uniforms surged out of the various teaching buildings, rushing like a tide toward a single destination—the cafeteria.

Floating high up, Jiao Qingyin’s pupils constricted slightly at the sight. High schoolers in this world… why does lunch feel like a zombie apocalypse?

At a glance, it was even more startling than a zombie horde—after all, most zombie tides are disorganized and undisciplined, whereas these high schoolers, while running frantically, miraculously didn’t forget to stay in line.

The “zombie” students distracted Jiao Qingyin enough to alleviate her dizziness. She soon realized the Arts Building wasn’t Wen Fengyue’s final stop; the girl kept running toward increasingly remote areas, quickly leaving the crowds far behind.

Where is she going?

The answer came quickly. Wen Fengyue ran all the way to a small grove at the back of the school, coming to a halt by a perimeter wall reinforced with barbed wire. She hadn’t slowed down once during the sprint, and now that she had stopped, her breathing was only slightly hurried. It seemed that regardless of what Wen Fengyue had endured over the last ten years, her physical fitness was at least decent.

Jiao Qingyin estimated the wall’s height to be about two and a half meters. For an average high schooler, it would be impossible to climb without assistance. The barbed wire at the top wasn’t high but was covered in sharp spikes, ensuring that even if one managed to reach the top, they couldn’t climb over.

“Tsk.”

Just as Wen Fengyue made that sound, Jiao Qingyin floated to the top of the wall and sat right in the middle of the barbed wire. Visually, the wires seemed to slice her spiritual form into segments. Sunlight filtered through her body, spilling onto Wen Fengyue. Jiao Qingyin swung her legs, ignoring Wen Fengyue’s annoyance, and looked up at the azure sky.

She was certain a portion of her memory was sealed, but in the memories she still possessed, she had never seen such a beautiful sky. The blue was as clear as if it had been washed; there were no clouds, no dust, and no viruses in the air. People could breathe freely.

“—As expected, you’ve come here again.”

A sarcastic voice interrupted Jiao Qingyin’s sky-gazing. She looked down and saw several thuggish-looking students approaching Wen Fengyue. They wore school uniforms, but their jackets were unzipped, their pant legs rolled up high, and the inner layers they wore were all designer brands of this world. Every one of them had dyed hair and various accessories hanging off them.

Jiao Qingyin shifted her gaze to Wen Fengyue. Her attire shared some similarities with theirs, but she lacked that “petty delinquent” aura entirely. If anything… she looked more like the lead singer of some indie band.

The boy in the lead, who had just spoken, pointed at the barbed wire and laughed arrogantly. “Let’s see how you run away now.”

Wen Fengyue glanced at him sideways, and her words were even more irritating than her expression: “Who are you?”

The smile on the boy’s face froze. Then, fueled by his cronies’ jeering—”She’s faking it,” “Just hit her”—he pulled a Swiss Army knife from his pocket.

“Do you know how many people are sick of looking at you?” The boy put on a fierce face and slashed at a nearby tree, leaving a deep, narrow scar on the trunk. “I heard your family doesn’t care about you and you rent a place off-campus by yourself?”

“—If you get expelled, can you even stay in school?”

His words were half-mockery and half-threat, but Wen Fengyue remained expressionless after hearing them. Her eyes were hazy, as if she couldn’t summon the energy to care about anything, including this repeatedly provocative boy. Wen Fengyue wasn’t angry; she was just bored.

The boy didn’t know Wen Fengyue’s thoughts, but he was genuinely triggered by her contemptuous attitude. With three or four friends watching, the blood rushed to his head, and he charged at Wen Fengyue with the knife.

Wen Fengyue waited until he was right in front of her before launching a high kick, accurately kicking the knife out of his hand—and incidentally snapping the boy’s wrist. As a pig-like shriek rang out, Wen Fengyue took a few steps toward the others. These kids had never seen such a display; terrified, they backed away, losing even the courage to help their friend up.

Wen Fengyue ignored them. She strolled to a point about two meters from the wall, turned to start a sprint, and then leaped. The onlookers only saw her step off the wall twice before she miraculously scaled to the top.

Jiao Qingyin hadn’t paid much attention to the scuffle below. Compared to high schoolers brawling, she found the sky much more interesting. Consequently, when Wen Fengyue’s silhouette suddenly enlarged in front of her, she forgot to dodge for a moment.

The people below cried out that she was going to “crash into the barbed wire,” but Wen Fengyue didn’t panic at all. With a forceful pull from her hand on the bricks, she vaulted lightly into the air. Despite the barbed wire being only dozens of centimeters high, she soared over it like a swallow.

The boys below stared wide-eyed, while Jiao Qingyin, atop the wall… was somewhat stunned. When Wen Fengyue jumped, Jiao Qingyin had happened to stand up; in that instant, it felt as though the girl, bathed in light, had plunged straight into her embrace.

Wen Fengyue landed on the other side of the wall, looked back at the group with a cold gaze, and said, “Idiots.” Then she jumped down, rolled once on the grass, and landed steadily. Aside from some grass stains, she didn’t have a single scratch.

Jiao Qingyin followed her to the ground. That momentary palpitation was shoved to the back of her mind, replaced by a slight confusion. Wen Fengyue’s skills seemed fine—so where did the injuries on her body come from?

Crossing the grass outside the wall, Wen Fengyue walked with purpose toward a specific direction. Minutes later, she arrived at a coffee shop not far from the school. Coldly nodding to the manager, she walked up to the second floor with practiced ease.

She sat in a corner by the window. Soon after, a person fully disguised in sunglasses and a mask—to the point where their gender was indistinguishable—sat down across from her. Seeing no other customers around, the person skipped the pleasantries and pushed a briefcase toward Wen Fengyue. “Here is the data you wanted.”

Wen Fengyue opened the bag in front of them and took out a thick stack of papers. Jiao Qingyin leaned in to look. On the first page was a photo of someone she recognized: Wen Ziyuan.

It wasn’t the child she remembered Wen Fengyue pushing into the pool, but a grown-up Wen Ziyuan. However… just from the photo, Jiao Qingyin could tell the girl’s health was poor. Wen Ziyuan’s head was shaved for some reason, her eyes were vacant and dull, and thick dark circles made her look chronically ill.

Jiao Qingyin had some suspicions, and after a quick scan of the text, her theory was validated. The first file recorded Wen Ziyuan’s entire upbringing, but starting from age fifteen, the detail level spiked dramatically—she had been sent to a controlled facility for substance abuse, and every single thing she did was recorded.

It wasn’t just Wen Ziyuan. As Wen Fengyue flipped through, Jiao Qingyin realized she recognized everyone in the files. From Wen Dong and Wang Qinrong to Aunt Zhang, who had abused her, to the opportunistic servants of the Wen household—most of those who had bullied Wen Fengyue in her past life were in these documents.

No wonder it’s so thick… Jiao Qingyin glanced at Wen Fengyue. She could glimpse a fraction of the agony Wen Fengyue had endured in her past life from these papers, but the girl herself had actually lived through it. Wen Fengyue was seventeen this year—the same age she was when she died in her previous life.

Seeing that Wen Fengyue had finished reading, the woman in sunglasses tapped the briefcase suggestively. The girl looked up, fished a small card from her pocket, and tossed it over. The woman jumped, catching the card frantically and checking it for damage. Jiao Qingyin peeked and saw patterns on the card resembling a circuit board.

“You can’t just throw this around,” the woman hissed through her teeth. “What if it broke…”

By then, Wen Fengyue had put the files back. She picked up the bag and stood up, saying plainly, “Goodbye.”

“Hey—”

The woman hurriedly tucked the card away and called out to her, her mysterious, secretive aura completely ruined by her behavior. Wen Fengyue turned to look at her. “Is there something else?”

Seeing that Wen Fengyue’s gaze was normal and she seemed to be in a decent mood, the woman paused for a moment before asking the question that had bothered her for a long time: “Why not just… pull them out by the roots?”

She was a courier, but she had gotten to know Wen Fengyue over time. She knew the people in these files were basically the girl’s enemies. Wen Fengyue was usually so decisive and swift; why did she become hesitant when it came to her own matters?

But the moment she asked, she regretted it—Wen Fengyue had such a bad temper; what if the blunt question offended her?

To her surprise, Wen Fengyue actually answered: “Cherry blossoms falling into the ocean… these people aren’t just my enemies alone.”

Hearing this, Jiao Qingyin first thought of the deceased Wen Shuling, but she quickly realized that while Wen Dong and the others could be considered their joint enemies, those high schoolers were clearly only Wen Fengyue’s enemies. So who was the person she was referring to?

The woman in sunglasses was also stunned. She instinctively stood up and asked: “Are you waiting for that person to take revenge together?”

Wen Fengyue didn’t stop or reply, heading straight downstairs.

She had a secret.

It wasn’t that she had lived a previous life, but rather… that another person had once lived inside her body. That person only appeared for a single day, yet brought her hope and a future. That person kept her from becoming a murderer, taught her the means to survive, and pointed her toward a bright new path.

They shared the memories of rebirth. She felt that person was her “second personality,” another version of herself. But that person had only appeared for one day.

Every time she recalled the memories of that day, Wen Fengyue felt dazed and pained. Sometimes she felt it was all a dream, but how could a dream be so real? When had her fantasies ever possessed such a luminous side?

Following that person’s final words, Wen Fengyue had left the prison-like Wen residence with her aunt. However, that villa had become an unbreakable shackle, forever hung around her neck. From the day that person left, she had been slowly advancing her revenge plan. Minor grievances she would settle on the spot. As for the major ones… she trod the boundary of the law, only guiding and never acting herself. Her behavior was hidden yet precise, leaving no flaws.

The reason she had never taken the final step was that she wanted to wait for Jiao Qingyin’s return to share the final moment of vengeance—but that notion had been eroded bit by bit during the ten-year wait. Using ten years to cherish a single day caused Wen Fengyue to gradually forget the initial fear and sadness, leaving only a heart full of rage and hatred.

She wished Jiao Qingyin had never appeared in her life, yet at every moment, she longed to see her one more time. Now, exactly two months remained until the date of her death in her previous life. Wen Fengyue had decided: she would only wait these last two months. If the other still hadn’t returned… two months from now, she would send every person on that list to their deaths and then end her own life.

Wen Fengyue had no interest in living. What sustained her through these ten years, besides the fire of revenge, was her complex emotion for Jiao Qingyin. Furthermore… she held a final sliver of hope—perhaps after death, she could meet that person again.

After leaving the cafe, Wen Fengyue didn’t return to school. Instead, she walked “home” alone under the scorching noon sun. Jiao Qingyin felt uncomfortable after being in the sun for a while, so she dived back into Wen Fengyue’s body and let her carry her along.

Wen Fengyue lived in a remote, old apartment complex. There were no elevators, the hallway lights were broken, and trash and flyers were everywhere. Only a third of the apartments were occupied, mostly by elderly residents. The sparse population made the place feel gloomy.

Judging by her appearance, Wen Fengyue didn’t look like someone who belonged here. She was luminously pale, her face so beautiful she looked like a spirit who had wandered into the mortal realm, forming a sharp contrast with the dim, filthy environment.

Psychologically, Jiao Qingyin disliked this place, but physiologically, she felt strangely comfortable and refreshed. She frowned as she analyzed the feeling, realizing she was likely influenced by her ghost form. In this state, she instinctively gravitated toward the “Yin” and the dark.

Tap, tap-tap, tap.

Jiao Qingyin was observing the changes in her spiritual body when she suddenly heard a discordant sound of footsteps. Wen Fengyue wore soft-soled sneakers and was relatively light, so her footsteps on the stairs weren’t loud. This made the abruptly appearing footsteps even more obvious. Yet, she seemed entirely oblivious, completely ignoring the sound following closely behind her.

Jiao Qingyin thought for a moment, poked her head out of Wen Fengyue’s body, and looked behind her.

She met the gaze of a woman with disheveled hair and a lolling tongue. The “tongue”… perhaps couldn’t be called a tongue anymore. The thing hanging from the woman’s mouth reached down to her waist, swaying with her movements, with blood constantly dripping from it.

Before Jiao Qingyin could react, the woman saw her, jerked back two steps, and then, with a terrified scream, rolled down the stairs like a ball.

Jiao Qingyin: “…”

She floated up slightly and chose to stay outside when Wen Fengyue entered the apartment. Fortunately, the three-meter limit hadn’t been exceeded, so she wasn’t dragged in by the other’s body. She looked at the woman—or rather, the female ghost—huddled and trembling in the corner of the stairwell.

“Come here,” Jiao Qingyin said coldly.

The ghost terrifiedly buried her head in her knees—literally—and pawed at her hair to cover her face, trying to pretend she didn’t know Jiao Qingyin was calling her.

Jiao Qingyin added the personal pronoun: “You. Come here.”

The ghost couldn’t pretend not to hear this time because Jiao Qingyin beckoned to her. From beneath her hay-like hair, she wore an expression of total despair. Without needing Jiao Qingyin to say more, she crawled up the stairs step by step.

Only then did Jiao Qingyin realize that the “tap-tap” noise she had heard wasn’t footsteps, but the sound of the ghost’s tongue hitting the steps. The ghost’s lack of hygiene made Jiao Qingyin take a step back instinctively.

Once the ghost stood before her, Jiao Qingyin spoke: “Why were you following her?”

The ghost shivered at every word Jiao Qingyin spoke, as if she were being electrocuted. Her answer was stuttered: “I… I… because her ‘Yin’ energy is heavy… it’s good for ghosts…”

Heavy Yin energy?

The moment she discovered this ghost, Jiao Qingyin realized she wasn’t an isolated case and remembered the headquarters saying “this world contains spiritual entities like ghosts.” Having “heavy Yin energy” in a world where ghosts existed was clearly not a good thing. During these ten years of her absence, had Wen Fengyue been frequently hounded by spirits and monsters?

Jiao Qingyin’s face darkened, and she continued with an unfriendly tone: “How long have you been watching her? What have you done? Are there other ghosts near her besides you?”

The ghost shrank back again from the low pressure Jiao Qingyin was emitting, looking like a bunch of shivering seaweed. Jiao Qingyin didn’t care about her fear. “My patience is limited.”

She could feel that she was much stronger than this ghost; if she wanted to, she could crush her with two fingers. Jiao Qingyin didn’t know what determined spiritual strength, but she cared more about other things right now.

Seeing Jiao Qingyin’s foul mood, the ghost didn’t dare waste time and spilled the whole truth: “I only came yesterday! I just heard… heard an inhabitant here had extremely heavy Yin energy, so I came to look. I haven’t done anything yet…!”

Jiao Qingyin: “Keep talking.”

“…Lots of ghosts know about her. I heard them say that no matter what method we use, we are blocked one meter away from her body. If she goes inside, we can’t even get near the door…” The ghost’s voice grew smaller. “I just wanted to try my luck today…”

It was just that the scent on Wen Fengyue was too fragrant; for any ghost, she was a great tonic. If they could consume her… The ghost’s tongue began to drip blood again. She was transparent, yet the blood she dripped had color.

Jiao Qingyin’s gaze turned cold. She raised her hand and, in the next second as the ghost paled in terror, she gripped the ghost’s tongue from a distance and threw her entirely out of the apartment building like trash. The ghost’s scream pierced the sky, the blood on her tongue staining her transparent body red.

The first time Jiao Qingyin used this ability was to get the medical kit for Wen Fengyue. This time, even though she hadn’t physically touched the ghost, she felt a wave of disgust. She needed to see Wen Fengyue to “wash” her eyes.

Jiao Qingyin turned around just as Wen Fengyue opened the door. Their gazes met directly.

“…” Jiao Qingyin floated a bit to the side.

Wen Fengyue’s clothes were slightly messy, and her expression was terrifyingly grim. She stood at the doorway, her gaze scanning the hallway inch by inch, so meticulously she seemed to be searching for something.

Jiao Qingyin froze, then remembered: Wen Fengyue could hear her voice. Had she heard the conversation with the ghost…?

An inexplicable nervousness kept Jiao Qingyin still. She wasn’t sure if Wen Fengyue still remembered her, nor did she know what the other’s reaction would be upon finding out she had returned. Jiao Qingyin tried to put herself in her shoes: if during a turbulent childhood, she had met a friend who appeared suddenly… could they be called friends? And then, right after opening up to that friend, the other left without a word, only to reappear casually ten years later…

Jiao Qingyin’s imagination came to an abrupt halt—she had never had a close friend, nor a partner so important they were indispensable. Her lack of experience made it difficult to analyze Wen Fengyue’s feelings. Realizing this, Jiao Qingyin closed her mouth.

Better to figure out her current personality and situation before finding the right moment to speak.

While she was thinking, Wen Fengyue closed the door and started walking downstairs. After reaching the first floor, she quickly turned back and ran all the way up. As she went, she observed her surroundings, scanning every door to see if anything was different. At first, it was a fast walk, but later it became a jog.

Wen Fengyue reached the rooftop. Because she hadn’t seen a single soul, her heart beat faster and faster. She looked down from the rooftop railing; seeing nothing within range made her nerves tighten further. No people, no speakers… did that mean—

She turned around and, after taking a few steps, spoke softly: “…Is it you?”

Jiao Qingyin was a bit dizzy and took a moment to realize Wen Fengyue… might be talking to her. The girl… still remembered her. Jiao Qingyin couldn’t describe the feeling. She slowly flew directly in front of the other, thinking that if Wen Fengyue called her name once more, she would respond.

What should the first words after a long reunion be?

But Wen Fengyue didn’t speak again. She lowered her head, the light that had just sparked in her eyes dying out once more. She had done the same thing countless times—hearing a voice that sounded like Jiao Qingyin, searching and calling with hope, and then… finding nothing.

…Just another hallucination.

Wen Fengyue gave a self-mocking smile and started walking away from the rooftop. Though her lips were curled upward, there was no smile in her eyes. Jiao Qingyin saw the entire change in her expression and felt a sudden wave of helplessness.

In her eyes, she had only spent a short day with Wen Fengyue. But… her influence on the girl seemed much greater than she had anticipated. Jiao Qingyin didn’t want to see this. She was supposed to be a signpost on the other’s life path, guiding her to the right road. Even if the other didn’t follow her instructions, the price should only be a detour or more time; she shouldn’t be so important that Wen Fengyue would still have such a strong emotional reaction ten years later.

As Wen Fengyue walked with her head down, she reached up to unwrap the bandages around her neck. As the bandages loosened, the wound she had hidden was revealed.

Jiao Qingyin’s eyes widened. At first glance, she thought Wen Fengyue had a tattoo on her neck, but the smell of rust emanating from the bandages reminded her—it was a long scar.

Feeling resistance, Wen Fengyue’s movements stopped. She touched it and found the final layer of gauze stuck to the wound. She frowned, stood at the rooftop entrance, and checked the injury in a broken mirror left there. The mirror had been abandoned by a previous tenant; the dusty surface made for poor visibility, and she quickly lost patience.

Without hesitation, she exerted force and ripped the gauze, which was fused with blood scabs, straight off. The wound tore open, and blood began to flow, yet Wen Fengyue seemed to feel nothing, turning to head downstairs.

In the preceding minute, Jiao Qingyin had decided to play the role of a silent observer, only intervening for crises or major choices. But…

She softened her heart toward this stubborn fellow. She wanted Wen Fengyue… to live a little better.

As the breeze ruffled Wen Fengyue’s hair, Jiao Qingyin let out a low sigh: “How did you end up like this?”

Wen Fengyue froze instantly. After a full minute, she slowly, very slowly, raised her head to look at the grimy mirror. Her face was reflected in the blurred surface, her features vague, save for the long scar running from her jaw to her neck, which was bleeding so profusely it was impossible to ignore.

Wen Fengyue’s heart trembled as she covered the wound.