Lin Feng walked into Willow Town's small market with a calm smile and a ghost child floating behind him like an overly shy kite.
The moment they entered, every vendor stiffened.
A woman selling pears hid them under her table.
A butcher pretended he didn't see Lin Feng at all.
A dog refused to bark—it simply rolled over and played dead.
Lin Feng nodded politely at each reaction.
"Friendly locals."
[SYSTEM]
Incorrect.
Explanation: You are leaking ghost aura from Broken-Soul Peak.
Lin Feng ignored it with professional skill.
He headed toward a grain stall. The owner, a broad-shouldered man with a beard like a broom, stared at him as if someone had delivered bad luck in human form.
"You're… back," the man said.
Lin Feng bowed politely.
"I am here to buy rice."
"And… what's that?" the man whispered, pointing behind Lin Feng.
Lin Feng turned.
The ghost child froze mid-air, then tried to hide behind his sleeve.
It failed spectacularly because it was transparent.
Lin Feng nodded.
"My assistant."
The man began sweating instantly.
"Do… do assistants have to… float?!"
Lin Feng examined the rice sacks.
"Floating is a natural talent. Please respect diversity."
The vendor dared not argue.
He simply lifted a small sack of rice.
"F-Five copper."
Lin Feng checked his pockets.
He had exactly five.
He placed them gently on the table.
The vendor placed the rice down gently in return.
Both men were deeply relieved the transaction didn't explode.
Lin Feng bowed.
"Excellent doing business with you."
The vendor muttered, "Please don't come again," under his breath.
Lin Feng smiled warmly.
"Thank you. Such hospitality."
The man nearly fainted.
---
Lin Feng walked through the street again, rice on his back, ghost floating behind him with clear pride.
But then—
A cold ripple spread behind him.
A presence.
A spirit.
Something older.
Something hungry.
[SYSTEM WARNING]
Spirit detected ahead.
Cultivation: Spectral Vein Realm (High)
Emotion: Hostility
Suggested Action: Strategic retreat
Host's Actual Action: …ignored.
Lin Feng continued walking calmly.
Around the corner, a tall, thin ghost with a crooked neck emerged from the shadow of a well.
Its eyes glowed violet.
Its aura was colder than winter water.
The ghost child behind Lin Feng trembled and hid behind his shoulder.
The tall ghost let out a low groan.
Villagers didn't see it—but they felt it.
A woman near the bakery shuddered.
A man sharpening knives suddenly dropped his blade.
Even the dog pretending to be dead considered actually dying.
Lin Feng stopped and looked at the tall ghost.
The system flashed again:
[SYSTEM]
Threat Comparison:
The opponent is stronger than you.
Host Power: next to none.
Lin Feng nodded thoughtfully.
The tall ghost leaned forward, neck cracking, preparing to lunge.
The ghost child clung to Lin Feng's robe.
Lin Feng stepped forward.
He raised one finger.
And politely tapped the tall ghost's forehead.
"Not here," he said calmly. "This is a business district."
The ghost froze.
Not because of strength.
But because of how absurd, how shameless, how unexpected the statement was.
The tall ghost blinked—slowly—its violent aura twisting into confusion.
It tilted its head.
It grumbled.
It stepped back.
It dissolved into a faint mist, slipping back into the well without further argument.
The villagers stared, pale and terrified, from a safe distance.
Lin Feng dusted his hands.
"Respect public spaces."
[SYSTEM]
Ghost has withdrawn.
Host intimidation successful.
Against all logic.
The ghost child peeked out again, visibly relieved.
Lin Feng patted it on the head.
"Let's go. We have rice to cook."
The child drifted happily.
---
As Lin Feng walked back toward the mountain path, several villagers whispered from behind shuttered windows.
"Who is he…?"
"From the cursed mountain…"
"He just stared down a strong ghost…"
"He's insane."
"…Or powerful?"
Lin Feng heard none of it.
He only hummed lightly, climbing the steps toward Broken-Soul Peak with a bag of rice, a ghost child helper, and the casual confidence of a man who had no idea how dangerous his life truly was.
The wind whispered along the stones.
The mountain welcomed him back.
And the cracked lantern on the altar flickered—
brighter than yesterday.
---