Chapter 36: Discussing "Proof" with the Ghost King

A stone table stood in the quiet courtyard, flanked by two stone stools. Upon the table rested a teapot and two cups.

Drip, drip, drip—

The Ghost King picked up the teapot and poured tea into Qian Mo’s cup, stopping just as the liquid neared the brim.

“Try it,” the Ghost King’s voice echoed once more.

Qian Mo gazed at the tea, so clear and fragrant. He took the cup in his hand, felt its warmth, gently swirled it, and brought it to his nose. “What a delightful aroma,” he murmured.

With that, he lifted the cup to his lips. The tea slid smoothly down his throat, its flavor exquisite beyond compare. He had tasted many teas in his previous life, yet none matched this. The difference was worlds apart.

He finished the tea and set the cup down.

“How does it feel?” the Ghost King asked, observing Qian Mo as he placed the empty cup on the table.

“It’s refreshing to the senses, and its taste lightens the bones. It resonates like the pillars of heaven, and its scent entwines the peaks of Shu Mountain,” Qian Mo recited, slowly describing his impressions. “It’s remarkably sweet and fragrant, even more so when drunk. It brings a sense of intoxication, dispelling restlessness and confusion, leaving one clear-minded.”

The Ghost King laughed heartily. “Excellent! Not only are you formidable, but you can appreciate fine tea as well. It seems my daughter Biyao’s judgment is impeccable.”

Biyao blushed at her father’s words.

Hmph! As the King of Pretense and one reborn from a previous life, I know countless poems. If I couldn’t outdo this ghost, wouldn’t that be embarrassing? Qian Mo thought to himself.

“Now that the tea is finished, let’s move to today’s main topic,” the Ghost King said.

“Very well,” Qian Mo replied softly.

---

“Biyao and the others have told me—you can revive Xiaochi? How will you do it?” The Ghost King fired off two questions in succession.

A pill appeared in Qian Mo’s hand, its surface dazzling. It was the Bone-Reforging Soul-Melding Pill, a reward from the system’s quest.

“My knowledge is limited; I don’t recognize this…?” The Ghost King asked, puzzled by the pill.

“This is the Bone-Reforging Soul-Melding Pill. It allows wandering souls to forge new bones and meld their souls, recreating a body from the soul itself. In simple terms, it can revive any ghost whose soul has not yet dissipated, granting them a new body. That’s all there is to it,” Qian Mo explained, turning the pill in his hand. With this answer, he addressed both questions.

The crowd was thunderstruck. Such a miraculous object existed in the world—and it was being played with right before their eyes.

“Why should I believe you? This world holds no such wonders. I, the Ghost King, have neither heard nor seen anything like it,” the Ghost King pressed, his excitement barely contained.

“Why? Because Xiaochi is Biyao’s mother. Because Biyao is my woman. Because everyone present is as insignificant as ants before me. If I wished to seize the Heavenly Book or take Biyao by force, none of you could stop me—not one!” Qian Mo’s patience, worn thin by repeated questions, snapped. In this world, those who doubted him deserved only death.

As he spoke, the full aura of the Ninth Layer of Taiqing—his Out-of-Body cultivation—flooded the room, suffocating and oppressing their bodies and souls like a death god’s shadow.

Those who had been angered or incensed by his words found themselves unable to speak—not for lack of will, but because Qian Mo’s overwhelming presence left them gasping for breath. Some even collapsed to their knees, faces pale.

“Qian Mo, stop, withdraw your aura, or they’ll die,” Biyao pleaded, seeing the pain etched on their faces. Only she and Lu Xueqi were spared; everyone else, including the Ghost King, was suffering.

Qian Mo relented at Biyao’s request, drawing his aura back. At once, everyone breathed easier. Their gazes toward him were filled with fear and confusion.

“Forgive me; I lost my temper. I dislike being questioned, especially by the weak. If not for your connection to Biyao’s mother, I might not have restrained myself at all. What I say, I can do. All I ask for is Biyao and the Heavenly Book. Tell me, Ghost King—do you now find my ‘reasons’ sufficient?” Qian Mo waved his hand, his tone calm but his words a warning: Don’t bring trouble upon yourselves.

Damn, could I possibly say no? If I weren’t the high and mighty Ghost King, I’d have… Forget it. How did Biyao manage to find such a calamity for a husband? the Ghost King thought, bitterly shaking his head.

“Would I dare say you’re not qualified now? Come with me. If you revive Xiaochi, the Heavenly Book is nothing compared to her,” the Ghost King said, resigned.

“Four Sacred Envoys, you may leave,” he instructed with a wave.

“But…” The envoys glanced fearfully at Qian Mo, about to protest.

“But what? If Qian Mo truly wished to kill me, not one of you could stop him. His aura alone has you flattened. Enough. I am Biyao’s father—surely he’ll give his father-in-law some face,” the Ghost King replied, now addressing himself as father-in-law rather than Ghost King. Such a powerful son-in-law was not to be wasted.

---

“You are absolutely right, father-in-law,” Qian Mo said with a gentle smile.

“You heard him—leave!” the Ghost King repeated.

The crowd exchanged glances, nodded, and departed. The Ghost King had spoken true: if Qian Mo wished them dead, they could do nothing.

The wind whispered through the grass; only Qian Mo, the Ghost King, Biyao, and Lu Xueqi remained.

“Now, with just the four of us, what is your true cultivation?” the Ghost King asked, curiosity piqued.

“Haha! I am but a humble youth. After three years of cultivation, I have reached the Ninth Layer of Taiqing, just one step from the peak,” Qian Mo replied modestly, rubbing his head.

The others fell silent, speechless.

“What? You’ve cultivated for only three years? Three years to Taiqing? Are you kidding me? Then what of my thousand years of training—have they gone to waste?” the Ghost King shouted, astonished.

“Father-in-law, it’s entirely possible,” Qian Mo added.

The Ghost King could only shake his head, unable to argue, unable to fight. Fortunately, this was his son-in-law.

“Ahem! Enough. The matter at hand is Xiaochi’s revival,” the Ghost King coughed to regain composure.

“Lead the way, father-in-law,” Qian Mo said calmly.

With Biyao on his right and Xueqi on his left, Qian Mo followed as the Ghost King led the way to a secret chamber.

(End of chapter)