After Saving The Villain, He Had Sex With The Female Ghost. Chapter 2

The woman was tall, and despite the scorching heat, she was wrapped head to toe in a red satin cloth, like…

The woman was tall, and despite the scorching heat, she was wrapped head to toe in a red satin cloth, like a poorly dressed bride.

If Chu Yu had only been testing the waters before, seeing the red silk cloth rush toward her confirmed her suspicion.

A temple without a threshold, a statue without an incense altar, and the strange behavior of the locals—all indicated that this was a sinister temple dedicated to ghosts.

The woman didn’t speak, her body tilted slightly, and the courtyard gate slammed shut with a bang.

Xu Yue couldn’t hold himself up and collapsed onto his knees, his lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.

Chu Yu grabbed Xu Yue and retreated a few steps. She was naturally bold, but now, facing a crisis and saddled with a liability like Xu Yue, she had no choice but to move forward.

“What exactly do you want?” Chu Yu gritted her teeth, holding Xu Yue.

The woman remained silent, tilting her head, hopping and bounding straight toward her. In an instant, the courtyard atmosphere changed. Dark clouds pressed down on the top of the statue, and the charred hands extending from both sides of the path began to move, their fingers curling into angles impossible for a living person. They trembled like burnt centipedes, gathering strength to grab her.

Chu Yu dodged and leaped, dragging the screaming, eyes-closed Xu Yue. She couldn’t even spare a thought for fear. With a hopping female ghost behind her and a terrifying sea of hands in front, Chu Yu gritted her teeth and charged toward the tranquil Spirit Hall ahead.

Taking advantage of the lack of a threshold, she dragged the dead-dog-like Xu Yue inside. The charred hands couldn’t reach into the Spirit Hall, but the female ghost charged straight in.

Chu Yu looked around. The only thing she could grab was the candle she had straightened earlier. Left with no options, she pulled out her lighter, lit the candle, and threw it at the female ghost.

The female ghost happened to be bouncing at the intersection of the narrow path and the Spirit Hall. Unable to dodge, the satin cloth caught fire and quickly began to burn.

The female ghost was decisive, swiftly tearing off the satin cloth and throwing it into the sea of hands like the wind.

The orange-yellow flames consumed the satin completely. The hands underneath, though clearly stone carvings, seemed to feel pain, slowly withering and shrinking back.

Stripped of the satin, a bright face was revealed. The woman had long eyes and a refined nose, but a surprisingly round mouth. She looked no older than twenty. She pointed at Chu Yu and immediately started cursing.

“I was just trying to scare you. Why are you playing with fire? If you burn down my Spirit Hall, will you pay for it?”

Chu Yu was stunned by the scolding. The person was acting so self-righteously, as if she hadn’t been the one chasing Chu Yu moments ago. Chu Yu cleared her throat and frowned, looking at the woman.

“Are you human or ghost?” As soon as she asked, she regretted it. After the surreal scene she had just witnessed, what else could she be but a ghost?

The woman raised an eyebrow and smiled, crossing her arms. She snapped her fingers, and the tightly shut main gate sprang open with a bang.

It was like a grade-schooler showing off a trick—not a highly intelligent or difficult ghost to deal with.

Chu Yu took a breath, dropped the unconscious Xu Yue onto the ground, and sat down herself.

What kind of cursed place had she stumbled into? She swore she would never seek out those dubious masters again. Her luck was already bad, and now it had plummeted straight to the Underworld; she was running into ghosts in broad daylight.

However, this ghost didn’t seem malicious. She sat cross-legged not far from Chu Yu, her eyes rolling as she stared at her.

“Hello, my name is Li Heru. What are you doing here?”

Chu Yu lowered her head, seriously pinching Xu Yue’s philtrum, only wanting to leave this place quickly. She didn’t answer.

The next moment, a powerful force slapped her to the ground. Li Heru pounced on her, gnashing her teeth, her hands gripping Chu Yu’s neck, chillingly cold.

“Answer me, who is she? Your girlfriend? Why are you protecting her so much?”

This ghost was mentally unstable. Chu Yu didn’t dare to provoke a lunatic and finally opened her mouth: “She’s my colleague. We came to find a master to change our luck, but we got lost.”

“Change luck? Change what luck?” Li Heru sighed in relief, then looked confused. Her grip on Chu Yu’s neck tightened.

“I have bad luck, and I wanted to find a master to help me improve it.” Chu Yu patiently explained while lying on the ground.

Li Heru seemed to fall into thought, and the hand around Chu Yu’s neck loosened slightly. Chu Yu pressed her advantage: “We didn’t come here intentionally. Please let us leave. I promise I will stay far away from here and never bother you again.”

Unexpectedly, upon hearing this, Li Heru slammed down hard, making Chu Yu’s eyes roll back, nearly causing her to pass out.

Realizing her lapse, she finally let go and stood up.

Chu Yu coughed and retched. She hadn’t recovered from the morning’s car sickness, and after being tormented by Li Heru for so long, she scrambled and crawled to the edge of the pool, throwing up everything she had. The charred hands scattered, climbing onto the bank as if seeking help.

“Are you unwell now?” Li Heru asked from behind her.

Chu Yu didn’t notice the slightly complicated look in Li Heru’s eyes. Just as she was about to speak, her stomach contents surged out again. After finally vomiting up the seafood feast Xu Yue insisted on buying her, only stomach acid remained, burning her throat.

Chu Yu weakly waved her hand. It wasn’t that she was unwell; it was just that her stomach had been bad from spending too much time in film crews before, and this habit of vomiting never went away.

Xu Yue used to joke that it was the “poverty disease”—lack of money, time, or good mood would trigger stomach problems, and Chu Yu coincidentally suffered from all three.

Li Heru paced back and forth, making the stone steps thump loudly. After a moment, she seemed to have made a huge psychological decision, gathering her courage to speak to Chu Yu.

“I’ll help you change your luck. The condition is that you take me with you.”

“???” Chu Yu wiped her mouth, looking confused.

This ghost was truly insane. She looked at the sleeping Xu Yue. If her conscience hadn’t stopped her, she would have seriously considered abandoning Xu Yue and running away.

“I’m not kidding. I can also change luck. The master you’re looking for is called Yada, right? She’s not here; she left a long time ago. Only I can help you here,” Li Heru said seriously.

Xu Yue was still asleep. Chu Yu didn’t know if Li Heru was telling the truth, so she remained silent for now.

“Hey, your future is very dark.” Li Heru suddenly flew over with superhuman speed, placing her hand on Chu Yu’s forehead, deep in thought.

“I see exploitation by those in power, compromise in life due to money, the ravages of disease on the body… and the departure of loved ones.”

Chu Yu was quite calm: “Who doesn’t experience these things? That’s just human nature.”

Li Heru closed her eyes, muttering incantations. Moments later, she suddenly opened her eyes, staring blankly into the void. “These are all things you will experience in your twenty-eighth year. You will die.”

When she emphasized the word “die,” her gaze shifted to Chu Yu. Chu Yu was twenty-seven this year. She raised an eyebrow.

So, she would contract a serious illness with no money for treatment, be exploited by capitalists, and face the loss of relatives, all in her twenty-eighth year?

Seriously, even if she were the reincarnation of a bad luck spirit, she wouldn’t be this miserable.

Seeing that Chu Yu didn’t respond, Li Heru pressed on: “You must be very short on money right now. I’ll change your luck for free. You take me back, and I won’t bother you. I died in a foreign land, and I dream of going home.”

She squatted down, looking pitifully at Chu Yu.

Li Heru wasn’t old, but the temple was ancient. She had probably been drifting alone overseas for many years. It was said that if a person’s remains were not collected after death, they would forever remain in the place they died, causing trouble.

Chu Yu hesitated.

“How do I take you with me?”

Li Heru quickly stood up, gesturing for her to walk toward the Spirit Hall. Inside, the statue stood silently. Li Heru jumped onto it in a few bounds, stretching her hand into the statue’s eye socket.

After one, two, three attempts, a tattered, transparent plastic bag was clutched in her hand.

“Catch!” Li Heru shouted. The next moment, the bag flew straight toward Chu Yu. She leaped up like a baseball player and caught it.

It wasn’t heavy, a small packet, like powder.

“What is this?” Chu Yu looked at it with a searching expression.

“My ashes. This is all that’s left. You must keep it safe.” Li Heru clapped her hands, scattering dust.

Chu Yu didn’t dare to imagine what the flying dust was, clutching the bag tightly in her hand. “I just need to take this with me?”

Li Heru nodded. “I will be attached to the ashes.”

A funeral parlor in C-Country

“Which is the cheapest urn?” Chu Yu, looking travel-worn, walked in.

The owner, who was about to put down his chopsticks, paused. “Bottom row. Pick one yourself.”

Li Heru angrily shoved Chu Yu. “Stingy! What’s wrong with buying me an expensive one?”

Chu Yu remained unmoved, squatting down to carefully choose. A ceramic pot with a large belly… too big.

A wooden box… Li Heru thought it was old-fashioned. After much deliberation, she couldn’t decide. Li Heru spotted a cat paw-shaped porcelain box in the corner and slapped Chu Yu’s arm.

“I want that one!”

“That’s for pets. It won’t fit human ashes. Are you sure you want that?” The owner’s mouth twitched.

Li Heru jumped wildly nearby. “I want this one, this one, this one, this one, this one!”

Chu Yu nodded and handed over the only two hundred yuan she had left in her pocket.

She received twenty yuan in change.

Ignoring the owner’s disdainful look, Chu Yu carried the pet urn home with a flourish.

The small packet of ashes just filled the porcelain box. The tattered plastic bag, which was about to disintegrate, finally met its end, but considering the residual ashes inside, Chu Yu folded it neatly and put it away in a cabinet.

“The urn is settled. Let’s talk about business. How are you going to help me change my luck?” Chu Yu sat down and poured Li Heru a glass of cola.

Li Heru pressed against the rim of the glass and took a satisfied gulp, though the liquid level didn’t drop at all.

She sat up straight, reached out, and lightly brushed Chu Yu’s forehead. A cool breeze swept across, slightly chilling. Chu Yu felt a dull ache in her forehead. After a moment, the dull pain disappeared, replaced by a foreign sensation, like something had been embedded there.

She touched her forehead. The center was slightly raised, soft and springy to the touch, like a ping-pong ball.

She poked it hard… Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch!

Chu Yu instantly retracted her hand, covering her forehead, breaking out in a cold sweat. What was that thing?

“That’s the Yin-Yang Eye, you’ve heard of it, right? With it, you can see ghosts,” Li Heru said slowly.

Chu Yu paused. “Why could I see you even before I had it?”

“I’m not the same as minor ghosts. I can gain the power to move in the mortal world by causing trouble. Through that power, I make myself visible.”

Li Heru explained.

In that sense, she was like a human. Wasn’t Chu Yu also trying her best to make herself “seen”? Being a ghost wasn’t easy, Chu Yu thought.

“With this, I can change my luck?” Chu Yu looked in the mirror. Her forehead was smooth. It was an invisible eye.

“No. You have to use it to fulfill the obsessions of trapped spirits. When the spirits find release, you gain merit. When you accumulate enough merit, your luck will naturally improve,” Li Heru said.

Chu Yu put down the mirror and looked at her. “So, it’s like getting paid for work? Is that the idea?”

Li Heru nodded. “Exactly.”

There truly was no such thing as a free lunch. Chu Yu walked around her house but didn’t see any ghosts besides Li Heru.

“Stop looking. If your house had ghosts, wouldn’t it be a haunted house?” Li Heru said, leaning on the sofa.

Speaking of haunted houses, Chu Yu pondered for a moment and pulled out her phone. She had recently seen a casting call for a horror film crew.

The Yu Mansion Chronicles: “You dare to watch, but do the actors dare to perform?” —All scenes in this film are 100% shot in a real murder house!

A haunted house with eight unsolved murders, a place of evil known throughout Z-City. The doors, sealed for decades, are opening again. Let us listen to the true voices of the departed…

Chu Yu knew about this murder house. It ranked first in the city’s urban legends. The legend said that every night, the second floor of the self-built house would light up, and a rustling sound would be heard throughout the night. Then, at dawn, melodious music would drift out.

The director was shooting it as a documentary—low budget, horror genre, and filmed in a real haunted house. This deterred many people, but Chu Yu unhesitatingly submitted her resume.

The next day, she received an interview notice.