My Little Ghost

Volume 1.3.9 — The Transmission

As helpless as he may be, Bai Bing Wen is never a quitter. He knows he’d probably be followed either by the shadow guardians or the Shadow Empress’s cronies and it would be really difficult for him to walk in darker, remote roads. These people who want the Crown Prince dead would most likely take this opportunity to take him down since he’s not with anyone. The worse thing is, he can’t rely on his cultivation to save himself at the moment and Ji Feng Huang probably doesn’t know about this yet.

With a pounding heart, he walks in quick steps, purposefully choosing the crowded streets despite the possibility of getting lost doubling because of confusing turns. He remembers walking past the tailor shop on their way, but knowing which tailor shop is a bit difficult since there are four of them in different streets. Every shop here looks similar to the other one, with only the shop owners and their crew making the small differences.

It’s crazy, he feels like being watched but sees no one looking at him whenever he turns to check. This is probably what coreless humans in the modern world feel like for not having magic in their bodies.

“Have some stew in our shop, Young Master,” a food service attendant offers, blocking his way.

Bai Bing Wen pauses a bit to shake his head, continuing to walk into the market place street.

“Check our new collection...”

“Have a taste of our bread...”

“Have you ever seen a weapon so good...”

Before Bai Bing Wen knows it, he’s already getting mobbed by everyone in an attempt to have him buy their products, something he’s never had to experience before when he was strolling these streets with Ji Feng Huang and Meng Zhang.

But one stranger catches his attention.

“Are you lost, Young Master?” an old man asks, wearing worn out robes and holed shoes.

Bai Bing Wen steps away warily, smiling a little. “No. I’m just looking for something.”

This time, more and more old men approach him, asking if he’s lost. Bai Bing Wen notices that this place he’s at is no longer familiar to him and everyone around him seems to sense his discomfort. But they crowd him, nevertheless.

“I’ll take you to where you’re going, Young Master...”

“You should never lose yourself in a very dangerous place...”

As soon as someone tries to touch him, a red glowing arrow shoots rapidly at the hand, making everyone else scattered away. Bai Bing Wen’s knees give out at the overwhelming aura of the red glowing arrow, making him feel the disadvantage of not having a spiritual power at all.

“You dare lay a hand on my subordinate, and the next time I hit you, you’ll be losing one limb.”

He hears footsteps walking towards him, but he still cannot look up due to the spiritual weapon’s aura. This cultivator must be anywhere that is not lower than an eighth light of the eighth level.

“Are you okay, Xiao Bing?” a lively yet soft voice says, kneeling in front of Bai Bing Wen.

“Who are you?!” the old man who’s hand has been hit, screams in both pain and anger.

“Get out of here. All of you,” another voice says, this time, fiercer than the first one.

When the crowd doesn’t disperse, one of the two cultivators who have just arrived expands his aura. This time, it’s the aura of a ninth level cultivator, not lower than the fifth light. The aura spreads throughout the crowd, oppressing everyone else.

This doesn’t exclude Bai Bing Wen.

“Hey. Hold back a little, will you? Our friend is going to pass out,” the lively voice says.

Bai Bing Wen takes deep breaths, steadying himself. He feels a ringing pain right behind his ears as his chest and abdomen constrict, as if a huge force is imploding him. He grips at his chest where the parchment entrusted to him by Ji Feng Huang is hidden, worried that someone might steal it from him before it reaches its rightful recipient.

But before he can do something else or say anything at all, black curtains cover his eyes as he slowly lose consciousness.

When Bai Bing Wen opens his eyes again, he’s miraculously seeing a familiar ceiling made of compressed bamboo leaves and stalks. The homely ambience of the house sobers him up completely and he quickly sits up, seeing three pairs of curious eyes staring at him.

“What...” he mumbles to himself, feeling a sharp-stabbing pain at the back of his head, almost rendering him unconscious again.

“Good morning,” a lively voice greets, dripping with honey.

When Bai Bing Wen turns to look at the owner of that voice, he sees a petite male with long black hair, brushed back neatly from the forehead. A red feather-like ornament is hanging on a braided part of his hair behind his ear where a silver wing-like accessory is placed. There’s a vermilion dot in between his almond eyes, and his nose is exceptionally tall and pointed. His sun-kissed skin is almost glowing. He looks really, really handsome, in Bai Bing Wen’s opinion.

He’s also wearing clothes differently from what Bai Bing Wen has been seeing from everyone else in here. He dons a pair of baggy black silk pants, tucked to a pair of velvet high boots, and layers of long-sleeved white silk shirt, tucked to a thick band of black leather belt.

What’s more surprising is the concept of sophistication which Bai Bing Wen has never imagined seeing in this world. This man’s shirt has buttons and the first three of them are undone, while a black choker with a red glowing pendant is hanging elegantly around his neck. He’s also wearing an armguard on his left arm and finger tab on the right hand—both made of fire red silk.

However Bai Bing Wen looks at the man, it’s just so impossible to see someone dressed like this in the ancient world where people are at their most conservative phase.

“Who... Who are you?” Bai Bing Wen asks, noticing his own hoarse voice. He clears his throat, looking around once more. That’s when he finally notices two more people in the room, one of which is familiar to him—Meng Zhang.

“What happened to you?” Meng Zhang asks, standing from the chair he’s been sitting on and sitting on the bed, instead, next to Bai Bing Wen. He reaches a hand out and Bai Bing Wen willingly offers his wrist to him.

“I told you, little dragon. He’s been mobbed and ran over by a stampede. Now, he’s here. you can finally heal him,” the differently clothed man answers nonchalantly, even giving Bai Bing Wen a playful wink.

“I clearly told the two of you to make sure he gets here unharmed,” Meng Zhang says, letting his superior spiritual energy and healing power go through Bai Bing Wen’s body. “Anywhere else hurting?” he asks with gentle, worried eyes, looking up at Bai Bing Wen who’s still a bit disoriented.

“Just... I feel like something is clogging my airways,” Bai Bing Wen answers.

Meng Zhang moves closer, kneeling on the bed this time. “Don’t fight it, okay? I’m going to force open your meridians again.”

Nodding, Bai Bing Wen prepares himself for another painful session. Surprisingly, when he lets Meng Zhang take over his meridians, he feels a comfortable sensation going through the knots and curves of his spiritual flow, finally making him feel his core again. Although he suspects it’s still not going to respond to his commands, at least, this time, the feeling that he has magic inside him again has him having one less worry.

“Wow, your meridians are almost clear, You should be able to cultivate again in no time,” Meng Zhang says with a proud look on his face.

At this, Bai Bing Wen finally heaves a sigh of relief. “Not being able to use my core is a nightmare. I hope I get it working back sooner. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Meng Zhang answers. He hands Bai Bing Wen a familiar wooden cup. “It’s an energy tonic. This is to revitalize your soul after not being able to feel any spiritual energy flowing into your body.”

And just like how Ji Feng Huang trusts Meng Zhang, Bai Bing Wen takes the cup and drinks everything in one mouthful sip.

“Be careful. You don’t know what he just gave you,” the voice of the petite man says with a playful tone.

“Quit it, Ling Guang,” Meng Zhang says with an exasperated voice.

“This actually tastes good,” Bai Bing Wen mumbles to himself.

“So does a poison,” the man replies. “I am Ling Guang, by the way. Meng Zhang won’t tell us who you are exactly and only told us that your name is Xiao Bing. But I’m guessing you’re important for him to actually order us to get you here alive and unscathed.”

“Which none of you clearly remembered,” Meng Zhang argues, this time checking Bai Bing Wen’s pulse. “You’re alright now. Is your breathing back to normal?”

Bai Bing Wen nods as Meng Zhang takes the wooden cup away from his hands. He takes another look at the Ling Guang guy who’s also staring at him with interested eyes. Bai Bing Wen frowns but doesn’t say anything.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t do anything stupid,” Meng Zhang announces, walking out of the room with the wooden cup in his hand. “That’s meant for you, Ling Guang,” he adds with a louder voice, somewhere outside the room.

Bai Bing Wen has noticed that Meng Zhang is also in his true form, minus Clover—his spiritual weapon. But the set of bluish-green and white robes together with the beautiful flower crown bring about a comforting sense of familiarity to Bai Bing Wen, since Meng Zhang is one of the first few people he has trusted in this world. He trusts Meng Zhang more than he does the Crown Prince’s father and that says something for a person like Bai Bing Wen who finds it difficult to trust anyone, and finds it easier to trust a family member.

“So who are you, really?” Ling Guang asks, this time standing up from the low table where he has been sitting with a leg over the other, and now walking towards the bed where Bai Bing Wen is. The sound of the heels of his boots clacking against the wooden floor is almost ringing in Bai Bing Wen’s ears.

“If Meng Zhang doesn’t trust you enough to tell me who I am, then I don’t think I can trust you with that information, either,” Bai Bing Wen answers lightly.

The man who’s been standing near the doorway, leaning his back against the wall with his face covered by a white furry hood, finally walks further into the room. When Bai Bing Wen sees a glimpse of his face, he’s surprised to see strong features of a good-looking man—thick black eyebrows, cat-like gray eyes, and almost paper white skin. When his hood falls behind his head, Bai Bing Wen sees a head of long black roots to short silver tips, side swept to perfection. His black belt is adorned with odd-looking ornaments set in an exotic style. The man is probably as tall as him, too, wearing a neat set of white robes with white hooded furry coat.

“I am Jian Bing,” the man says.

Bai Bing Wen notices the two adorable canine teeth that are longer than usual as the man talks. He remembers this voice as the man who spoke earlier and asked the crowd to get away from him.

“Don’t introduce yourself to him yet,” Ling Guang tells the other man who’s almost a head taller than he is. They are standing side-by-side and despite the obvious contrast in both appearances and personalities, their auras seem to be getting along just fine. “He won’t even tell us his name.”

“Stop scaring him,” Jian Bing says, giving Ling Guang a weak attempt at glaring.

Bai Bing Wen clears his throat again. “Thank you for telling me and for saving me back there,” he says to the two of them.

Ling Guang looks back at him and raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Who says we saved you? We actually left you there for a while to get beaten so we can easily extract your memories while you’re unconscious but unfortunately for us, your dantian is protected. Now, though...” Ling Guang places one of his legs at the edge of the bed, leaning over, closer to Bai Bing Wen’s face. “Who are you, and what business do you have with Meng Zhang?”

Bai Bing Wen stares right back at him, not at all threatened by his intimidating look, even as he feels the man’s aura threatening to oppress him. “I’m the Crown Prince of the Central Empire,” Bai Bing Wen answers without flinching.

In a fraction of a second, he feels a sharp object emitting a strong aura poking at the sensitive meridian on his neck. “Don’t fool me. The Crown Prince won’t know who Meng Zhang is.”

“But I do know who he is. Do you?”

“I said, don’t do anything stupid,” Meng Zhang’s voice is heard somewhere at the door.

Ling Guang automatically moves away with a playful smile as the arrow turns to red glowing specks of dust. “If you can’t get things through talking, you take them by force,” he says nonchalantly.

“You had one thing to do,” Meng Zhang deadpans, walking into the room. He checks at Bai Bing Wen’s neck and smiles to himself. “You really are learning fast,” he says quietly, looking a bit lost.

“Excuse me?” Bai Bing Wen asks, feeling weirded out by Meng Zhang’s actions.

“It’s nothing,” Meng Zhang says. “Are you comfortable with introducing yourself to these people? They are bonded with Feng-Feng through spiritual pacts so they can never betray him.”

Bai Bing Wen glances at them one more time before finally asking one of the things he’s been thinking about since last night. “Can you tell me first what it means to be bonded by a spiritual pact?”

“To be more precise, the three of us here, are Ji Feng Huang’s contracted beasts,” Meng Zhang answers. “You already know, I am Meng Zhang, the Crown Prince and the azure dragon descendant of the Eastern Empire. I am Ji Feng Huang’s first contracted royal beast.” He gestures for the other two to introduce themselves formally. “Go on. Tell him who you all are and your purposes, and let him decide if you are to be trusted.”

The man with gray eyes speaks first with a polite bow, “I am Jian Bing, the Crown Prince and the white tiger descendant of the Western Empire. I am Lord Ji Feng Huang’s third contracted royal beast.”

Bai Bing Wen’s eyes are bewildered. When he carelessly decided to find his way to Meng Zhang’s place to personally deliver the parchment from Ji Feng Huang, he’s never expected to meet one more royal blood. But he’s in for a surprise when Ling Guang finally introduces himself, too, with such grace that is only specific to men of noble blood.

“I am Ling Guang, the Crown Prince and the vermilion bird descendant of the Southern Empire. I am Lord Ji Feng Huang’s second contracted royal beast.”

Bai Bing Wen almost gapes at the three of them, running out of words to say. They are all standing next to the bed where he’s now uncomfortably sitting at, not knowing what to do next.

“If you still think I don’t deserve to know who you are, understand that my fire spirit’s patience is wearing thin and I might actually resort to violence just to extract the information from you,” Ling Guang threatens again, making Meng Zhang sigh in exasperation.

“Just how many times do I have to tell you—” Meng Zhang starts, but Bai Bing Wen cuts him off...

“I am Bai Bing Wen, the youngest in my Bai Clan generation and a nobody from the modern world. I am Ji Feng Huang’s future husband.”