Pan Yao held the two large watermelons in her arms, her eyes unblinking, staring wide-eyed at this big piece of gossip in the old temple.

Delicious! This gossip was huge and delicious!

Pan Sanjin also stared, snorting through his nose.

Meeting these two pairs of similar, wide eyes, Old Yu the Spirit Medium was so angry he almost fell backward.

This makeshift father and daughter, they really were fated to be together!

“What nonsense are you talking about? I have nothing to do with this comrade!” Old Yu the Spirit Medium was both angry and aggrieved, his hand trembling as he pointed at the person.

He brought his right cheek forward and slapped it hard with his hand, making a “smack, smack” sound.

“See that? This is an old face!”

“Use your brain. At my age, how could I possibly be involved in anything romantic? Isn’t that just insulting?”

The opera performer in the costume was still wiping away tears.

Pan Sanjin stepped forward. “It’s precisely because you’re this age and still deceiving people’s feelings that it’s even more insulting!”

Old Yu the Spirit Medium was so angry his beard bristled!

His, Old Yu the Spirit Medium’s, reputation!

Pan Yao saw that her Dad Sanjin’s words had cornered Old Yu the Spirit Medium, and he had stopped pointing at people and was instead clutching the doorframe, gasping for breath. She was afraid that the old spirit medium would get so angry that he’d actually ascend to immortality, and that wouldn’t be good.

Now, she couldn’t be bothered to eat the melon (gossip). She quickly said,

“Dad, Dad, let’s not interrupt. Let’s listen to Grandpa Yu and this… sister talk.”

“It’s not sister, oh.” The opera performer, who had been wiping tears in front of the small temple, stopped, turned around, and smiled at Pan Yao. This smile was truly captivating.

Slender eyebrows, eyes like rippling water, a simple glance seemed to contain a thousand words of affection, hesitant to speak.

Truly a beauty without equal.

However, if it’s not sister, what is it?

Pan Yao was puzzled.

“My stage name is Xiao Lanxiang. I greet you, sir and miss. I am polite.” The opera performer flicked his sleeves and gave a wanfu ^[1]a traditional Chinese greeting performed by women.

His posture was graceful and elegant, exuding a delicate fragrance.

However, with this greeting of “sir” and “miss,” Pan Sanjin was suddenly alerted.

He and Pan Yao were different. He and Old Yu the Spirit Medium had both lived through the era of political campaigns. How strict it was back then! Everywhere they were catching the little tails of capitalism. People didn’t use terms like “sir” and “miss.”

Regardless of wealth, everyone was brothers and sisters under one sky, all comrades.

Pan Sanjin looked suspiciously at the person who called himself Xiao Lanxiang.

Over there, Xiao Lanxiang was recounting his relationship with Old Yu the Spirit Medium.

Pan Yao, who had initially listened with great interest, felt something was increasingly wrong. Finally, she looked up at her Dad Sanjin.

Don’t be fooled by Pan Sanjin standing straight, frowning and pursing his lips, looking a bit fierce. Under his pants, his two thin legs were secretly trembling.

“Dad…”

“Shh, don’t speak. Dad knows,” Pan Sanjin lowered his voice. “In a moment, Dad will carry you and run. Your legs are short, so remember to hold tight to Dad’s back and don’t move.”

He glanced at the watermelon in Pan Yao’s hands, annoyed, and grabbed them, placing them on the stone stool under the big banyan tree, anxious and afraid.

“My silly daughter, what time is it, and you’re still holding onto the watermelon?”

“It’s a ghost!”

Pan Sanjin didn’t say the last sentence out loud, only mouthed the words. His face was pale, and his eyes were filled with terror.

Pan Yao saw her own reflection in his large eyes.

Well, her little face was pale too. She wasn’t much better than her Dad Sanjin. Like father, like daughter.

The two of them turned their heads in unison and looked at Xiao Lanxiang again, preparing to act according to the situation.

Over there, Xiao Lanxiang had reached the emotional climax of his story. In their previous life, he and Old Yu the Spirit Medium were a couple whose fate was toyed with by destiny. He was a famous opera singer, and Old Yu the Spirit Medium was the son of a wealthy family.

At first, one was a performer forced by circumstances, and the other was a pampered young master who flitted through a thousand flowers without a single leaf clinging to him. Neither took the other seriously.

But who can explain the word “love”?

Perhaps it began with the knowing smile exchanged in the mirror as the wooden comb brushed through his hair. Or perhaps it was when he was on stage, singing of joys and sorrows, separations and reunions, and he, in the audience, had tears in his eyes, gently clapping his hands and saying, “Good…”

Or perhaps it was their first meeting, backstage at the theater. The young master of the wealthy family pulled aside the curtain, and Xiao Lanxiang, in full costume, turned around. The young master’s eyes flashed with surprise, and he asked, “Are you Xiao Lanxiang?”

One sentence, “Are you Xiao Lanxiang?” began a lifetime of entanglement, like vines intertwined, inseparable from then on.

In front of the small temple.

Xiao Lanxiang looked at Old Yu the Spirit Medium, tears in his eyes. “Changlang, we agreed to leave together. You didn’t come… I waited for a long, long time, in life and in death, I’ve always been waiting.”

“I’ve come this time to renew our previous bond.”

Old Yu the Spirit Medium’s face turned green.

“Changlang!” Xiao Lanxiang took a step forward. Old Yu the Spirit Medium retreated hastily, his old legs tripping over the threshold, almost causing him to fall.

“Changlang, be careful!” Xiao Lanxiang was worried.

Over there, Pan Sanjin and Pan Yao’s faces turned even paler.

It really was a ghost, not just a scare. Just now, when Xiao Lanxiang moved forward, his steps were light, as if he wasn’t touching the ground.

Actually, he had been walking with this kind of gait from the beginning, but at that time, Pan Yao and Pan Sanjin hadn’t noticed. They just thought he was skilled, walking with light steps, his upper body not swaying.

Now, they saw that Xiao Lanxiang’s heels weren’t touching the ground.

This was ghost steps, he was possessed by a ghost!

The previously overlooked details also became noticeable. Along the way, the chirping of cicadas had disappeared, the summer night’s breeze had stopped, and the moonlight in the sky had become hazy.

“Run!” Pan Sanjin gritted his teeth, hoisted Pan Yao onto his back, and ran.

Pan Yao lay prone on Pan Sanjin’s back, watching Pan Sanjin run several laps, back and forth. In the end, he still returned to the small temple under the old banyan tree.

“Oh no, I can’t do it anymore. We’ve encountered a ghost wall.” Pan Sanjin was exhausted and panting. He put Pan Yao down and waved his hands.

“Don’t be afraid, we still have the Great Immortal.” Pan Yao said, her eyes searching for Old Yu the Spirit Medium.

Pan Sanjin: “Right, right, find the Great Immortal.”

He had calculated the pregnancy dream so accurately, surely he could subdue a mere male ghost!

Yes, Xiao Lanxiang was a male ghost. In the old days of opera, sheng, dan, jing, mo, and chou, the beautiful huadan were also played by men.

Pan Yao and Pan Sanjin looked at Old Yu the Spirit Medium with hopeful eyes, placing their last hope on the old spirit medium.

When they looked, they were both disappointed.

Old Yu the Spirit Medium’s white vest was almost torn to shreds. He was struggling to protect his chest, shouting “Stop, stop” in shame and anger.

He didn’t look like a Great Immortal at all, more like a helpless young wife.

“Let go, let go of me. I’m really not your, your Changlang.” Old Yu the Spirit Medium was mortified.

“I won’t let go, I won’t let go. In this lifetime, don’t even think about making me let go.” Xiao Lanxiang was coy.

Old Yu the Spirit Medium was in despair.

Pan Sanjin and Pan Yao were also in despair.

“I shouldn’t have eaten the melon (gossip)!” Pan Yao was vexed.

“That’s right!” Pan Sanjin echoed. “It’s all my fault. We shouldn’t have come to deliver the watermelon.”

He wished he could slap himself. Why did he have to be so generous? See, delivering the watermelon had led to problems. It seemed that it was better to be a little stingy.

Over there, Old Yu the Spirit Medium finally managed to struggle free from Xiao Lanxiang, who was as strong as an ox, and turned to run into the temple, intending to grab his magical implements to subdue the demon and eliminate the evil.

He stumbled and tripped on the threshold.

Soon, Xiao Lanxiang entangled Old Yu the Spirit Medium again. “Changlang, don’t be so heartless.”

Being touched on the face, Old Yu the Spirit Medium: …

He beat the ground and wrung his hands, weeping bitterly.

It was all in vain. He was just a little bit away, just a little bit away from getting back to the temple to get his magical implements.

“My magical implements!”

Pan Sanjin roared, “Great Immortal, I’ll help you.”

Turning his head, he placed Pan Yao on the long stone bench under the big banyan tree, right next to the two pieces of watermelon.

“Panpan, don’t run around. Dad is going to help your Grandpa Yu.”

“Dad…” Be careful, Pan Yao hadn’t finished speaking, but Pan Sanjin had already run over.

Taking advantage of Xiao Lanxiang being entangled with Old Yu the Spirit Medium, Pan Sanjin twisted his body and quickly entered the old temple.

Those round eyes quickly scanned left and right.

The old temple wasn’t large. Besides a bed and a table, there were also two chests in the corner. Pan Sanjin moved swiftly and opened the chests. One contained clothes, and the other contained Old Yu the Spirit Medium’s eating utensils.

Daoist robe, jade seal, treasure sword, gong, bell…

Pan Sanjin’s eyes were dazzled. “Which one should it be?”

He grabbed the robe and then reached for the other swords and sticks.

Old Yu the Spirit Medium was anxious. “Oh, you muddled Sanjin! What time is it, and you’re grabbing this robe for?”

Pan Sanjin held the Daoist robe, a little confused. “Wasn’t I supposed to get you dressed?”

Old Yu the Spirit Medium: …

Dressed? Did he need to look more appealing?

Old Yu the Spirit Medium had lost his temper.

“Quick, quick, give me the ghost-beating stick… Not that one, that’s a Heavenly Peng Ruler. The other one, the long one.”

Pan Yao, under the banyan tree, watched nervously as her dad threw the ghost-beating stick to Old Yu the Spirit Medium and quickly took a step back.

The ghost-beating stick, as the name suggests, was a short, cylindrical stick used for driving away evil and beating ghosts. It was made of peach wood, a yellowish-orange color, and on its smooth surface were two lines of characters written in a flamboyant style:

Marshal Zhu, who strikes down evil and witches.

Marshal Meng, who executes and tortures ghosts.

As soon as Old Yu the Spirit Medium got the ghost-beating stick, his aura changed dramatically. He straightened up. His cloudy eyes narrowed, he formed a hand seal, raised the ghost-beating stick, and shouted loudly.

“Demon, how dare you run wild in the bright world of humans!”

The stick struck down heavily.

“Thud.” A muffled groan was heard as the stick connected with flesh and skin.

Pan Yao and Pan Sanjin both looked on with anticipation.

With this magical implement in hand, Old Yu the Spirit Medium should have no problem dealing with a ghost, right?

Unexpectedly, the embarrassing reality came so quickly.

As the ghost-beating stick struck flesh, Xiao Lanxiang let out a cry of pain. Pan Yao saw a blurry shadow emerge from the exquisitely dressed body.

Pan Sanjin didn’t see this shadow, and Old Yu the Spirit Medium could only see it vaguely.

“Changlang!” Xiao Lanxiang cried out mournfully. When he looked at Old Yu the Spirit Medium again, his eyes were filled with pain and hatred.

Perhaps hatred gave him strength. He reached out with a backhand and grabbed the ghost-beating stick.

“Oh no!” Old Yu the Spirit Medium tugged, but couldn’t pull it free. He grimaced. “This big ghost is difficult to deal with.”

Hearing this, Pan Sanjin wanted to take Pan Yao and run again.

However, they were still trapped by the ghost wall, and even if they wanted to run, they couldn’t get out.

Xiao Lanxiang was both pained and hateful. He glared at Old Yu the Spirit Medium with ghostly, faint light. With a forceful tug, he snatched the ghost-beating stick. He tossed it backhanded, and the ghost-beating stick performed several beautiful flips in the air before landing straight into the black mud, right under the big banyan tree.

It wasn’t far, just an arm’s length from Pan Yao.

The ghost-beating stick, stuck in the ground, wobbled and hummed.

Over there, Pan Sanjin, seeing that the situation was unfavorable, quickly tried to help Old Yu the Spirit Medium.

He threw the Daoist robe, the Heavenly Peng Ruler, and the jade seal… all at Old Yu the Spirit Medium, hoping he would unleash his divine power.

Whether Old Yu the Spirit Medium unleashed his power or not was unknown, but Xiao Lanxiang did.

He opened his mouth, and a ghostly howl roared out, piercing and distant. Even though there was no wind, his hair flew wildly.

He slowly turned his head, staring faintly at Pan Sanjin. The finely painted face with powder and ink had overlapping shadows. The white makeup instantly revealed a deathly pallor, like a dead person, while his mouth became even redder.

“Mommy,” Pan Sanjin fell to the ground.

“Die!” The next moment, the ghostly voice hissed sinisterly, rushing towards Pan Sanjin’s face.

“Don’t you dare touch my father!” Pan Yao was extremely anxious.

Without thinking, she yanked the ghost-beating stick from the ground and swung it fiercely towards Xiao Lanxiang.

The ghost-beating stick whistled through the air. On the stick’s surface, the characters “Marshal Zhu, who strikes down evil and witches” and “Marshal Meng, who executes and tortures ghosts,” written in a flamboyant style, shimmered with silver light. A force surged towards Xiao Lanxiang.

The ghostly voice and the silver light collided in mid-air, creating ripples.

“Ah!” Xiao Lanxiang cried out in agony and released his grip on Old Yu the Spirit Medium.

Huh, it seems to be working.

Pan Yao looked at the ghost-beating stick in her hand in surprise. She tried swinging it, and she could see that under the moonlight, the moonlight gathered like shimmering light, swirling around the ghost-beating stick.

The force she had just unleashed was concentrated moonlight.

Never mind, they say to strike while the iron is hot, and the same goes for beating ghosts.

Pan Yao was also afraid, but she thought that she had also died once, she had been a ghost, who knew who was more fierce?

So, she nimbly jumped down from the stone stool, ran to Xiao Lanxiang, and swung the ghost-beating stick with a “whoosh, whoosh” sound.

“Ah, ah, it hurts, it hurts.”

Xiao Lanxiang, who had been strong and fierce in Old Yu the Spirit Medium’s hands, could only clutch his face and howl in agony in Pan Yao’s hands.

“One, two, three… nine.”

Nine is the ultimate number. When the ghost-beating stick struck for the ninth time, a ghostly shadow was stripped from the body wearing the opera costume. As the ghost was separated, the opera costume fell to the ground.

The opera costume lay empty on the ground: the pink clothes, the hollowed-out colored clothes, and the glittering hair ornaments.

The performer, who had previously been exceptionally handsome and charming, with every move full of grace, now lay on the ground, his figure suddenly becoming ordinary.

He was a bit plump, his feet had become larger, and his appearance was different from before.

“Alright, alright, stop hitting. The ghost attached to this body has already been beaten back here.”

Old Yu the Spirit Medium stopped Pan Yao, picked up the opera costume from the ground, brushed off his torn white vest, and said wearily.

Beaten away? Pan Yao hadn’t recovered yet.

“Girl, come here,” Old Yu the Spirit Medium beckoned to Pan Yao.

Pan Yao hesitated, looked at Pan Sanjin, and then walked forward, holding the ghost-beating stick.

Although the old spirit medium looked a bit worse for wear, with Dad Sanjin there, it wasn’t a big deal.

Old Yu the Spirit Medium reached out and touched Pan Yao’s chest. Before Pan Sanjin and Pan Yao could react, he himself burst into laughter.

“Yao Bone! Unbelievable! To think that in my lifetime, I would actually see a Yao Bone! No wonder, no wonder the ghost-beating stick had such power in your hands.”

Yao Bone, what Yao Bone?

Pan Yao looked down at her chest, touched it. Yep, flat.

Old Yu the Spirit Medium straightened up. “Girl, become my apprentice and inherit my ancestral mantle. You have a Yao Bone in your chest, you are a natural Daoist body.”

Pan Sanjin was anxious. He didn’t understand what a Yao Bone was, but that didn’t stop him from objecting.

“Old Spirit Medium, what are you talking about? My daughter is going to study hard and go to university in the future. She’s not going to be a spirit-jumper^[2]Meaning, a medium who performs rituals, dances, etc.!”

Haven’t you heard? All pursuits are lowly, only studying is noble. His Panpan had to study hard!

Old Yu the Spirit Medium was dismissive. “You ignorant fool, what do you know? A Yao Bone is an immortal bone. How many people want it but can’t have it? Those Daoist cultivators who have achieved success and are registered in the immortal records, which one of them doesn’t have a Yao Bone^[3]Yao Bone, immortal bone, also known as the Entering Star Bone. Daoism believes that those with this bone in their chest have an affinity for immortality.?”

He touched his own chest, his expression wistful.

An immortal bone. He didn’t have one.

It made him envious and jealous.

Pan Sanjin frowned and thought for a moment. “This matter also concerns the child. I have to listen to Panpan’s thoughts.”

He turned his head and looked at Pan Yao.

“Panpan, what do you say? Dad thinks that today, this ghost with makeup on its face was a bit scary. Learning some skills so that we don’t panic when we encounter such things in the future isn’t a bad idea.”

“But, if you learn this, I don’t know if you’ll encounter other ghosts.”

Pan Sanjin was torn.

He wanted Pan Yao to learn, but he was also afraid that after learning, Pan Yao would often encounter such ghostly events.

Pan Yao came back to her senses. At this moment, she had only one thought.

“Dad, everything in books is true.”

The novels said that after transmigrating, there would definitely be an expert who would cry and shout, saying that she was exceptionally talented and must accept her as an apprentice.

See, she had encountered this situation.

It’s just that this expert…

Pan Yao glanced at the old spirit medium, who was still brushing off his torn white vest, trying to cover his exposed chest, and shook her head.

Sigh, it’s just that this expert was a bit watered down.