Chapter 18: Where’s the Treasure?

A faint giggle echoed in the distance."Heeheeheeheehee…"

Xuanqing Zhenren's ears twitched. He slowly turned around to see a figure forming from a swirling mass of black mist. The shadowy entity took the shape of a human-like ghost, its crimson eyes gleaming eerily in the darkness. Its voice was hoarse and unsettling."Are you… here to play with us?"

Xuanqing Zhenren blinked. He stood still for two seconds, then casually dusted off his robe, stuffed a piece of spicy snack into his mouth, and mumbled,"Play? Sure, but I charge for it! 888 per session—comes with exorcism, soul-pacifying, emotional counseling, and even a game of Honor of Kings! You interested?"

The ghostly figure clearly didn't expect such a response. It hesitated momentarily, before resuming its eerie laughter, floating closer toward him.

"Hey, hey, no rush now!" Xuanqing held up a hand, stopping it in its tracks. He reached into his bag and dramatically flicked open a folding fan. Bold calligraphy read: Mutual Benefit & Win-Win Cooperation.

He waved the fan lightly, flashing a sly grin."Listen, my spectral friend, let's talk business first. I, Xuanqing Zhenren, believe in peaceful profit-making. If you need more yin energy, I can help gather it. If you're looking for entertainment, I can teach you a few new tricks."

The ghost paused, as if struggling to process the absurdity of the conversation. Its glowing red eyes narrowed slightly.

"Don't be so stiff!" Xuanqing stepped forward without the slightest hint of fear, tapping the ghost's misty form with the tip of his fan. "You spirits always go for the cliché 'creepy horror' act. Can't you try something fresh? Maybe start a TikTok account, or learn a little plaza dancing? Here, let me show you—"

To the ghost's utter bewilderment, Xuanqing started doing a little twirl, swinging his fan like a conductor leading an orchestra, and even threw in a few spinning carousel motions."How's that? Easy to learn, right?"

The ghost froze. It looked genuinely dumbfounded, as if its centuries-old haunting instincts had short-circuited.

"No rhythm, huh?" Xuanqing smacked his lips, then reached into his bag and pulled out a small, rusty bell. He shook it. "Alright, no more games. You see this? The Ghost-Breaking Bell! One ring, and you'll scatter into nothingness. Wanna test it?"

The ghost finally reacted—by lunging straight at him.

"Whoa, you're really going for it?!" Xuanqing stumbled back, swiftly raising the bell and giving it a fierce shake. The chime echoed through the air, forcing the ghost to retreat a few steps. Seizing the chance, he slapped a crumpled talisman onto the spirit's forehead.

"Gotcha!" Xuanqing grinned smugly, hands on his hips. "This is what we call superior technique. Admit it, you're impressed."

But the talisman lasted a mere two seconds before it crumbled into ashes. The ghost lifted its head, the red glow in its eyes intensifying.

"Ahem… Small mistake," Xuanqing muttered, scratching his head. He reached back into his bag and pulled out a handful of glutinous rice, yelling,"Take this! Sacred rice of exorcism!" He flung it at the ghost with all his might.

Nothing happened.

Instead, the ghost's aura thickened, the entire carousel area shrouded in a suffocating black mist. A deep humming noise filled the air as the entity's malevolence surged.

The more the mist gathered, the stronger the oppressive atmosphere became. Xuanqing, seeing the situation deteriorating, turned on his heel, prepared to flee—only to hear a loud ripping sound behind him.

His bag had been torn open by the ghost's aura.

"AHH! MY BRAND-NAME BACKPACK!" Xuanqing whipped around, his heartache overshadowing his fear. He gaped at the torn fabric in horror. "Do you even know how expensive this was?! You gonna compensate me?!"

The ghost ignored his outburst, its laughter growing darker.

Xuanqing's face darkened with fury. He rolled up his sleeves and rummaged through his bag, cursing under his breath,"Fine, fine! You messed with the wrong guy! That bag was my life, and you just signed your own death warrant!"

He pulled out a dagger, its silver blade inscribed with glowing runes. The edge shimmered with faint golden light. Xuanqing gripped the dagger tightly, pointing it at the ghost."This, my friend, is a family heirloom. One stab, and you're done! Come at me if you dare!"

The ghost wavered, clearly wary of the blade's energy. But after a moment, the red glow in its eyes flared brighter, and a powerful gust of yin energy erupted around it. Low, chanting whispers filled the air.

Xuanqing's footsteps halted briefly as he sensed the shift in power. Then, a sly glint appeared in his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself. His anger melted into a sharp, confident smirk."Oh, now you're trying to look tough? Alright then, let's see who's got the real skills here."

The ghost, sensing his change in demeanor, tensed. Then, with a piercing shriek, it lashed out with tendrils of darkness.

"Perfect timing!" Xuanqing pushed off the ground, using a nearby carousel horse to stabilize himself mid-air. He bit down on another wrinkled talisman, chanting a spell between his teeth. As his words took effect, the dagger in his grip flared with golden radiance.

"This is a special technique passed down by my ancestors—Sacred Blade Exorcism! Let's see how you handle a real spiritual artifact!"

The ghost swung its shadowy appendages, but Xuanqing's movements were too nimble. He dodged effortlessly, closing in on his target.

"Now, take this!" He plunged the dagger forward, piercing straight into the ghost's core. A brilliant golden light erupted, dispersing the surrounding darkness. The ghost screeched in agony as its form distorted violently.

Xuanqing didn't let up. He swung again and again, each slash cutting through the entity's very existence. The ghost's body flickered, its once-powerful aura collapsing.

With one final wail, the spirit shattered into nothingness.

Panting, Xuanqing straightened up, dusting himself off. He glanced around at the wreckage of the carousel and clicked his tongue."This place is a mess… But at least I cleaned up nicely."

He then noticed a black fragment on the ground, the only thing left of the ghost. Picking it up, he examined its surface—engraved with strange runes, still pulsating with eerie energy.

"Oho… Now this looks valuable." Without hesitation, he stuffed it into his bag.

Glancing at his torn backpack, he sighed heavily, grumbling, "Gonna have to get this patched up. Damn shame. This bag's been with me for years."

With that, he slung the tattered bag over his shoulder, whistling as he strode deeper into the park. Behind him, the carousel creaked softly in the wind, as if sighing in relief.

At the edge of the park, Xuanqing pulled out an old, battered compass, flicking its surface twice. "Alright, buddy, no funny business this time. Point me to the real goods, or we're breaking up."

The compass needle spun erratically before settling—directly towards an abandoned haunted house.

"Haunted house?" Xuanqing arched a brow, then patted the compass approvingly. "Now we're talking! I knew you had a good eye."

Inside, the house was pitch-dark, its air heavy with mold and decay. Shining his flashlight around, Xuanqing spotted piles of broken skeleton props and fake spiderwebs.

"This your grand hideout? Pretty underwhelming," he scoffed, kicking aside a plastic skull. But as he crouched to inspect the floor, a faint humming noise reached his ears.

The boards beneath his feet vibrated slightly.

Xuanqing's grin widened."Well, well, what do we have here? Looks like something good is buried underneath."

Grabbing a small shovel from his pack, he got to work.

The moment he pried up a floorboard, a thick surge of black mist gushed out, engulfing him.

"Holy—" Xuanqing coughed violently, waving his peachwood sword in panic. "Hey, hey! I'm just here to look around! No need to get hostile!"

As the mist cleared, a staircase leading downward was revealed.

Peering into the dimly glowing abyss below, Xuanqing smirked."Jackpot."

Without hesitation, he stepped inside.