I Rule Fortune-Telling Livestreams-Chapter 134: Ghosts Were People Too

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Chapter 134: Chapter 134: Ghosts Were People Too

Her cheerful personality meant that even in the army, there were always people helping her, caring for her as if she were their own daughter.

She was also the most highly educated person in her unit, so everyone was very fond of her.

Unfortunately, she was eventually captured as a prisoner of war and ended up taking her own life.

They didn’t know when their child first died; they only found out later.

When they found out, the couple’s hair turned white overnight.

When Mary’s mother spoke of her daughter, she was all smiles at first, but by the end, she was sobbing uncontrollably.

She clutched the photograph, crying, "If only she were still alive... She’d be your age now..."

If Mary were still alive, she would be at home now, taking care of her parents.

She’d continue to be their little sun, filling their lives with energy, and her parents could enjoy the happiness of family life.

Instead of how they were now, clutching a portrait of their deceased daughter and weeping inconsolably.

They say time heals all wounds, but it could never heal the pain of parents who have lost their child.

For every meal, the couple would cook Mary’s favorite dishes. Mary’s father would even place food into her empty bowl.

Even though they knew Mary would never return, they kept up this habit for an entire year.

On her birthday, the anniversary of her death, the Qingming Festival, the Ghost Festival—on any and all related days—the old couple would prepare items for offerings.

Today was the anniversary of Mary’s death. The old couple had long since prepared the offerings for their daughter, hoping she would come back to see them.

Most people, upon seeing a family making offerings, would tell their children to stay far away, afraid of being tainted by bad luck.

But Mary’s parents looked forward to this day, hoping that on the anniversary of her death, their daughter would return to share a meal with them and listen to them ramble on once more.

The world is afraid of ghosts, but what people don’t realize is that the ghost you fear is the person someone else longs for day and night...

...

Old Zhang had been staring at his son on the bed all night. When he saw that Shen Zhiyao had ended her stream, he finally breathed a sigh of relief and said:

"A si, just hold on a little longer. The streamer’s offline now; she’ll be here to save you soon."

Zhang Si had fallen into a deep sleep, looking no different than usual.

Gradually, drowsiness crept up on Old Zhang. He chewed two pieces of betel nut and forced himself to stay awake.

Miss Shen had said that even though A si was past the most dangerous period, the person who had paid to take his son’s life would certainly not give up so easily.

He sat by the bed, constantly watching his son, terrified that something terrible would happen.

At exactly 12:30 AM, his son’s eyes suddenly flew open, staring menacingly at the ceiling.

Old Zhang asked worriedly, "Son, why are you up? Why don’t you rest a little longer?"

Zhang Si didn’t answer. He just turned his head and glared menacingly at Old Zhang.

Startled, Old Zhang quickly sent a private message to Shen Zhiyao.

But before he could even finish typing the message, his son abruptly sat up and got out of bed, his feet bare.

"A si, what are you doing?"

Zhang Si didn’t answer. He walked straight to the kitchen, grabbed an iron wok, and began smashing it against his own head with all his might.

Seeing this, Old Zhang rushed forward to stop his son from bludgeoning himself to death. But his son was too strong; he tried to restrain him several times but failed.

「Meanwhile, in another home.」

A deeply wrinkled old woman sat with her eyes closed, continuously chanting an incantation.

Beside her was a small bed, on which lay an extremely weak man.

The man’s cheeks were sunken, and his face was utterly devoid of color.

He looked like a teenager, but he was actually in his thirties or forties. He was the old woman’s biological son.

The old woman’s name was Zhang Lin, and she was also a Xuanmen practitioner.

Zhang Lin’s son had been frail since childhood, constantly bedridden. Shortly after he turned fourteen, doctors told Zhang Lin to take him home and prepare for his passing.

But Zhang Lin was a person of deep feeling; she couldn’t bear to watch her son die.

So, she used a special technique to extend her son’s life.

On the day her son was meant to die, she would scatter joss paper all over the street. Then, she would go to a secluded intersection, prepare a box with gold bars, and kneel on the ground burning more joss paper to attract the attention of passersby.

As soon as someone picked up the gold, it was considered a tacit agreement to sell their life to her.

Afterward, regardless of whether the person spent the money or threw it away, the deal was done. It could not be undone.

The person who picked up the money would die a violent death within half an hour. This was her method of trading one life for another, creating a scapegoat to die in her son’s place.

In return, her son would gain ten years of life.

However, this did nothing to improve her son’s condition; he would remain tormented by his illness.

But as long as her son was by her side, Zhang Lin felt that everything she did was worth it.

In the thirty years since, she had successfully performed this life-swapping transaction three times.

Each time, she would choose a young person who was healthy and had no disabilities.

She chose the young for a better life-force transfer and the able-bodied so her son would not suffer as much.

Furthermore, most of the young people in the village had no connections and couldn’t afford to hire a Xuanmen master. Within three hours of picking up the money, their death was certain!

The success of these three "life-swapping techniques" had allowed her son to live to the age of forty-four.

This year, the day her son was fated to die had come again. It was also the day she would attempt to extend his life for the fourth time.

But this time, for some unknown reason, it had failed.

If she couldn’t claim this life, her son would be dead by dawn.

Zhang Lin didn’t know what had happened on the other end. Three hours had passed, yet the young man was still alive.

But since he had been chosen, he *had* to die in her son’s place!

The box of gold Zhang Si had picked up was imbued with her life-stealing curse. Even though the life-swap had failed, the bond between Zhang Si and her son still existed.

Now, she was using that bond to compel Zhang Si to kill himself with the wok.

This method was bound to arouse his family’s suspicion, but at this point, she had no other choice.

She closed her eyes, sensing that invisible bond. In the ether, she could feel the young man pick up the iron wok and begin striking his own head, blow by blow.

However, with his family member nearby, it was difficult for her to force the final blow.

"Mom... Mom... stop. Please, don’t hurt anyone else..."

Her son, lying on the sickbed, reached out and placed his hand on Zhang Lin’s to stop her.

"Son, I’ve already started. I can’t stop halfway. Just hold on a little longer. The person I found for you this time is very healthy. Just hang on, and it’ll all be over soon... It’ll be over soon..."

She pulled out a golden talisman paper and lit it, muttering an incantation as she worked her magic:

"Kill! Kill this meddling old man! Kill him! Kill him! And then kill yourself! Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Vaguely, Zhang Lin could feel Zhang Si’s emotions surge. He forcefully pushed aside the restraining hand, raised the wok high, and aimed it at Old Zhang’s head.

"Stop! I said stop!"

The door was kicked open, bringing a gust of cold, spectral wind. The talisman in Zhang Lin’s hand was instantly extinguished.

Back in the other home, Old Zhang quickly dodged, grabbing the wok from Zhang Si’s hand and kicking him to the ground.

Zhang Lin stared at Shen Zhiyao, who stood in the doorway, her expression frigid. "Who are you? Why are you ruining my plans! You’re courting death!"

Shen Zhiyao’s expression was just as cold, but her coldness was laced with fury. "If you were doing something good, I could look the other way. But since you’re harming people, I cannot stand by and do nothing!"

"So that’s why the man didn’t die. It was you, meddling in my affairs!"

Zhang Lin sized up Shen Zhiyao, trying to guess her origins and gauge her power.