My Little Ghost

Volume 1.4.8 — The Transcendence

“Don’t you feel the slightest bit cold?”

Bai Bing Wen looks up at Meng Zhang who just finished getting himself cleaned, wearing a fresh set of white and azure robes. “I don’t easily feel cold,” Bai Bing Wen answers. “In fact, I rather much prefer colder weathers like this.”

“Must be because of his...” Jian Bing trembles some more, nose a bit red. He’s wrapped up in his thick furry coat that he dried with his spiritual power but he’s still trembling due to the cold weather. “Because of his fire spirit. Lucky.” He pulls closer on his white and gray robes then hugs his knees against his chest.

“Not all royal beasts with fire spirit are immune to the cold. Look at Ling Guang. Even he has to wear normal robes when it’s colder.”

At Meng Zhang’s words, both Jian Bing and Bai Bing Wen turn to look at Ling Guang who’s blowing warmth into his hands, sitting on the bamboo floor and watching the rain outside. He’s wearing layers of black and red robes with his hair down—a stark contrast to his usual sophisticated look. In this attire, he looks younger and gentler.

Bai Bing Wen also notes three things about what Meng Zhang just said.

One, Meng Zhang acknowledges the fact that what Ling Guang usually wears is not considered normal in this world. In the modern world, almost all sorts of clothes are never criticized except for those that used the skins or fur of demon beasts. But wearing ancient robes and exuding the level of cultivation anywhere they walk would also be considered odd in Bai Bing Wen’s world, which is only normal in here, on the contrary. So he really cannot be one to judge what’s normal and what’s not.

Two, Bai Bing Wen’s mild immunity to coldness—or sometimes even the comfort he finds in it—must not entirely be about him, having a fire spirit. There is no way that he can withstand snowy days in the modern world with only a thin sweater on without suffering hypothermia just because he has a fire spirit which he hasn’t even known yet back then.

Lastly, it may or may not have anything to do with a cultivator’s physical origin, but the fact that Meng Zhang had to say ‘royal beasts’ implies that those who are not of a royal blood cannot possibly possess a fire spirit. What it means, he doesn’t know yet. But he’ll figure it out soon enough because it seems like an important bloodline rule to remember in this world.

Bai Bing Wen then glances at Meng Zhang who doesn’t look too bothered of the weather.  “So why don’t you all just make use of your high cultivation to warm yourself up?”

Meng Zhang looks back at Bai Bing Wen, looking ready to explain some more about their world. “When someone just had their tribulation at one place, all the environment’s spiritual energy within the area of tribulation gets drained. Of about a hundred chi from the center. So it’s a waste of spiritual energy just for a bit of warmth.”

Bai Bing Wen doesn’t understand what a hundred chi means because in the modern world, the units of measurements have changed. Luckily for him, he has Huang Di’s memories of getting measured by a tailor and hearing the sizes of the fabric helps him get an idea how far a hundred chi must be.

He realizes that a chi is around one and a half meter, and wow, a hundred chi is a bit too far.

“So, do we need to go to a place outside the affected area to cultivate?”

“Not really. We can just wait until it’s back, it’s not going to take long. It replenishes quickly, we just need to wait for this rain aftereffect to finish,” Meng Zhang answers.

Bai Bing Wen looks back at Jian Bing’s shivering back and Ling Guang’s poor state. He decides to do something for them, too. “Do you have extra fabric?”

Meng Zhang raises an eyebrow. “I do. But... what for?”

Bai Bing Wen glances at the other two and looks back helplessly at Meng Zhang who seems to have easily understood his intention. The man shakes his head with a small smile, walking out of the room. When he gets back, he has two rolls of azure cotton fabric.

“They’re extras from when I had my tailor-fit robes yesterday,” Meng Zhang shortly tells him.

“Oh.” Bai Bing Wen takes the rolls of fabric from Meng Zhang’s arms and spreads one roll on the table. He cannot, for the life of him, imagine how many of these would his brothers have if they lived in ancient times.

“What are you planning to do?” Meng Zhang asks curiously, moving next to Bai Bing Wen.

“Just something to help them feel better in this weather,” he answers.

Meng Zhang watches on with inquisitive eyes.

Bai Bing Wen nods to himself after estimating the size of the needed fabric. “Does anyone have a sword or any sharp metal that can cut this?”

“How about scissors?” Meng Zhang offers.

Bai Bing Wen smiles apologetically. “Oh. I didn’t think scissors already exist in this age.”

But then again, he’s already seen scissors during those times that Huang Di’s bespoken robes had to be measured. How come he didn’t think that?

“They usually go together that’s why I figured it’s what you need. Do you also need a needle and thread to come with?”

Shaking his head, Bai Bing Wen instinctively pats Meng Zhang’s head for his helpful work, like what he used to do whenever he was talking to his Jie-gege. But realizing what he just did, Bai Bing Wen leaves his own hand hanging in the air and puts it back to his side with an awkward smile. “Scissors would do.”

Meng Zhang gazes up at him with confusion before wordlessly walking past him and out of the door, probably to get the scissors. He looks totally confused. Sometimes, Bai Bing Wen forgets that the people he’s being surrounded by are of the noble blood and royal beasts’ descendants.

“Why is this not stopping yet?” Ling Guang complains, this time embracing his knees close to his chest, too.

Bai Bing Wen looks out of the open entrance and sees the heavy rain falling upon the vast bamboo garden. “It seems like it’s taking longer,” he mumbles almost just to himself.

“Ugh. Years and years through, I still can’t understand why I hate warm clothes yet I suffer heavily in cold weathers.”

“It’s going to stop soon, Guang-gege,” Jian Bing consoles him, crawling on the floor to sit next to Ling Guang. He unfolds his furry coat and drapes it around their shoulders.

“Don’t worry about me. I can manage,” Ling Guang says, removing his share of the furry coat. He folds it once and puts it back around Jian Bing’s shoulders.

Bai Bing Wen observes them for a bit, astonished at seeing a genuine smile on Ling Guang’s face for the first time.

“Here.”

When Bai Bing Wen hears Meng Zhang’s voice again and footsteps walking back into the lounge space of the bamboo house, he turns to look back at him who’s now holding a pair of scissors. He carefully hands the scissors to Bai Bing Wen with two hands but he won’t look up to meet Bai Bing Wen’s eyes. Instead of prying further, Bai Bing Wen resolves to just let him be.

After carefully infusing his spiritual energy while writing complicated characters on two separate sheets of triple folded fabric, the characters light up in a beautiful golden color, exuding warmth. Golden threads stitch the folds together in a beautiful pattern, forming thicker duvets.

“It’s beautiful,” Meng Zhang says in awe, looking at the makeshift azure blankets. “What did you do? They’re warm. And comfortable.”

Bai Bing Wen has to agree. “Thank you.” The golden color matches well with the azure fabric, making the blankets look stylish instead of looking like huge temporary talismans. “Back in the modern world, whenever we’re overflowing with spiritual energy, we create human-sized talismans to get rid of excess energy that can possibly slow down the stabilization of our cultivation. This mostly happens after we advance.”

“The modern world must be filled with wonderful sorceries,” Meng Zhang gasps, touching the warm blankets.

“This... This isn’t sorcery. It’s called ‘charm’. Once you create a temporary talisman out of different objects other than jade talismans and paper talismans, they’re called charms,” Bai Bing Wen explains. He finds it weird that he’s the one doing the explaining now but it feels nice to part knowledge to someone who is more powerful than him. “This one is called a ‘charmed duvet’.”

“Then I want one, too,” Meng Zhang says, looking up at Bai Bing Wen this time with big eyes.

Without the royal hair bun or the flower crown, Meng Zhang actually looks more youthful and glowing like this. Bai Bing Wen can’t help but give him a charming smile. “I’ll make one for you, too.”

Smiling back, Meng Zhang Nods enthusiastically and gazes on as Bai Bing Wen turns to approach the two other noblemen watching the rain.

Bai Bing Wen walks towards Jian Bing first and quietly shows him the blanket. Jian Bing’s eyes widen in excitement but he dares not to say a word, seeing that Ling Guang has already fallen asleep with his head leaning on Jian Bing’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” Jian Bing mouths as Bai Bing Wen wraps the duvet around his furry coat.

Then Bai Bing Wen kneels in front of Ling Guang this time who has his eyes closed with a small frown. He’s sleeping but even in his sleep, his temperament is remarkably funny.

Careful not to wake up the sleeping little bird, Bai Bing Wen softly drapes the blanket around Ling Guang, too. As soon as the warmth envelops him, the funny scowl on his face slowly eases up and Bai Bing Wen chuckles to himself witnessing this. He tightens the blanket around the sleeping man’s body but before he can remove his hands holding the lapels of the duvet, Ling Guang grabs onto them and pulls him closer. Caught off guard, Bai Bing Wen almost clashes against the sleeping man when they fall unceremoniously on the floor.

“Take me to bed,” Ling Guang mumbles in his sleep.

Bai Bing Wen’s eyes bewilder at this, holding himself up by pushing his hands against the bamboo floor by either side of Ling Guang’s face.

“You’re so going to hate yourself if you find out what you did just now,” Bai Bing Wen whispers, carefully pulling away and standing up.

“He’s such a mess,” Jian Bing remarks, looking pitifully at Ling Guang who’s now lying on the floor. “I’ll carry him.”

“No, I’ll take him to bed,” Meng Zhang says, kneeling next to Ling Guang. Then he glances at Jian Bing for a bit. “You should go to your room, too. If you guys hate the cold so much, then don’t watch the rain like this. It’s only going to get colder.” He looks back at Bai Bing Wen. “I’ll be back.”

Bai Bing Wen nods. “I’ll make your blanket.”

Meng Zhang smiles once more before carrying Ling Guang in his arms and walking out of the door.

After making Meng Zhang’s blanket as promised, Bai Bing Wen makes two more but this time, he writes his name on one and Ji Feng Huang’s name on the other. He’s not sure if Ji Feng Huang would understand the context of his simplified strokes, but he hopes that his little ghost would not find it weird that he’s giving him something that he never even asked for. Also, now that he has his cultivation back, he can make more temporary weapons and charms while he can’t chance upon a stronger spiritual weapon for himself yet or at least the materials he needs to make them. He can use this as an excuse to say that he’s been practicing his advancement.

By night time, Jian Bing walks out of his room, looking better than he did while it was still raining. Ling Guang walks out of his room, too, looking like he just woke up from seven days of sleep with that default scowl on.

Bai Bing Wen laughs inwardly at this. He remembers his older brothers telling him that he also has a scowling default, making it difficult for other people to approach him. As he grew older, he realizes that this is a blessing in disguise since he really doesn’t like it when strangers easily approach him, especially after all the trouble he’s gone through when the whole world learned about his core. It’s as if the growth of his survival instincts come together with the depth of the permanent scowl on his face.

“Did you sleep well, Guang-gege?” Jian Bing asks, embracing himself while his aura is expanding a little around him. Bai Bing Wen is inwardly ecstatic to see them still draped with the duvets he made for them.

“I did. Thank you.”  Ling Guang stretches his limbs for a bit before making use of the dense spiritual energy of the house now that it’s back. He uses his cultivation to probably warm himself up. “Is this from the little dragon?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder and admiring the duvet.

“No. The Young Master gege made them for us,” Jian Bing informs him.

Ling Guang raises an eyebrow at him. “Who’s that?”

“Me,” Bai Bing Wen finally clarifies. When both Jian Bing and Meng Zhang turn to look at him, he clears his throat. “Please, call me Bai Bing Wen, Your Highness.”

“Xiao Bing,” Ling Guang calls out to him in mild surprise.

Bai Bing Wen gives him a subtle bow as a form of acknowledgment which Ling Guang returns with a small nod.

“I want to call him ‘gege’,” Jian Bing tells Ling Guang who can only roll his eyes. “Bing-gege,” Jian Bing calls out, too, walking towards him.

Bai Bing Wen smiles his dimpled smile. “You could be older than me by a solstice, little kitty.”

“No, I’m not. I’m a few days younger than the little turtle and the little turtle is a few days younger than you. Our constellations were formed that way.”

Bai Bing Wen narrows his eyes in confusion, trying to remember who the little turtle might be.

“He means that Meng Zhang is the oldest amongst Lord Ji Feng Huang’s martial cultivators, then me, and finally, little kitty.”

“So where exactly do I fall in that hierarchy?” Bai Bing Wen asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Nowhere,” Ling Guang answers. “Not until you become Lord Ji Feng Huang’s contracted beast, at least.”

Bai Bing Wen turns speechless as the two Crown Princes stand by the open entrance again to watch the night sky. He can’t even wrap his head around the idea that he might be a beast, too. A royal one, at that. It’s just impossible. Let alone, to be contracted to someone he just met. He might not understand what exactly having a contract in this world means, but it sounds too serious to just be talked about in passing.

“Finally,” Ling Guang remarks, roaming his eyes around the vast bamboo garden. “Still cold but at least the rain has stopped.”

“I wonder how Lord Feng is doing,” Jian Bing asks out of the blue, looking outside the house, too.

“Don’t worry so much about him. He’s a strong one,” Ling Guang says, glancing at Bai Bing Wen.

“Have you seen Zhang-gege?” Jian Bing asks, looking at Bai Bing Wen who’s been sitting outside the open door on a mat made of hay, enjoying the cold breeze.

“He says he needs to revisit the prisoner,” Bai Bing Wen answers.

Jian Bing just wordlessly sits next to him, leaving Ling Guang standing and leaning against the door post alone.