Cataclysm Chapter 125: Extras – Ghost Marriage 05

Chapter 125: Extras – Ghost Marriage 05

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: Karai

 

Chen Yang placed his hand into Du Shuo’s palm, and it was grasped tightly and pulled up. Patting his chest, he asked, “Why are you here?”

Du Shuo glanced at him and said, “I saw you didn’t take an umbrella in the morning, and when I didn’t see you come back, I guessed you might be trapped at school.”

Chen Yang responded softly, “Oh.” The two walked from the silent school corridor to the staircase, their footsteps echoing clearly in the hallway. The staircase lights were motion-sensor activated and flickered continuously as they passed, accompanied by the buzzing sound of electricity. Chen Yang knew there was something supernatural at work, but he paused for a few seconds and looked at Du Shuo, who remained calm and collected. For some reason, he suddenly felt very safe, with no fear or worry.

He quickened his pace quietly, staying close to Du Shuo, walking side by side. All his small movements were noticed by Du Shuo, who pretended not to see them. When they reached the entrance of the teaching building, the sky was still gloomy, and the downpour showed no signs of abating. Chen Yang looked at Du Shuo and noticed he had only one large black umbrella, meaning they had to share it. Wouldn’t it be too crowded for two people?

“Come over.” Before Chen Yang could think, he stepped forward and was sheltered under the large black umbrella. He was so close to Du Shuo that their shoulders almost touched with every step. Before he could say anything, Du Shuo stepped into the rain, and Chen Yang hurried to follow, stumbling slightly. When their bodies touched, Chen Yang, not yet accustomed, tried to keep a distance, focusing so much on the gap between them that he almost walked out from under the umbrella into the rain.

Without even looking, Du Shuo stretched out his long arm and directly pulled Chen Yang to the front. The hand on his shoulder was as immovable as an iron hoop, and Chen Yang was held in his arms, dazed and unsure how to react. Raising his eyes, he could only see Du Shuo’s side profile and jaw, the latter looking straight ahead without glancing at him but aware of his every movement, protecting him well.

Chen Yang blinked, his previously unsure hands quietly grabbing onto the corner of Du Shuo’s clothes, resting his head on Du Shuo’s arm, relaxing his whole body as he was led along.

Du Shuo glanced down at Chen Yang and imagined how cute he would look curled up by his side. A smile unknowingly crept into his eyes, making even the bothersome heavy rain seem less annoying. He asked, “Is it okay to walk back?”

Chen Yang shook his head, “If we walk back, it might take two hours. But there’s a bus stop outside; we can take a bus across the bridge and get off at the intersection to walk home.”

“Okay.”

They walked out of the school gate, the teaching building behind them standing in the misty rain, casting a faint shadow. Some classrooms that had been lit suddenly went dark as they left the school gate, as if someone was in the classrooms. In the darkened windows, gray shadows appeared, all staring at Chen Yang at the school gate with a mix of resentment and fear.

Chen Yang and Du Shuo reached the bus stop. Du Shuo closed the large black umbrella and released his hold on Chen Yang, who immediately took two steps back to create some distance. Du Shuo paused as he put away the umbrella and asked, “Are you afraid of me?”

Chen Yang looked up, “No.” He gazed at Du Shuo’s back, remembering that this man was now his nominal ghost husband. Feeling his avoidance might be hurtful, he hesitated and said, “It’s just unfamiliar.”

“The bus is here,” Du Shuo suddenly said. Chen Yang saw the bus slowly pulling into the stop and felt a bit melancholic, wondering if Du Shuo heard his explanation. As the bus doors opened, Du Shuo said, “Let’s get on.”

They boarded the bus, which had only a few passengers, all sitting in corners, either resting with their eyes closed or listening to music through headphones. The driver focused intently on the road, not glancing at the two who had just boarded. Chen Yang immediately sensed something unusual. His sensitivity to such things often indicated the presence of the supernatural. He quickly grabbed Du Shuo and whispered, “I feel something’s off. Let’s get off and wait for the next one.”

Just as he finished speaking, the bus doors closed with a click. The sound heightened Chen Yang’s vigilance, and he watched as the driver started the bus without ensuring the passengers had settled. Chen Yang nearly fell from the inertia but was steadied by Du Shuo, who then led him to the rear seats, passing by a girl with headphones, an old woman with her head down, a sleeping couple, and a young man staring out the window.

The rear seats were empty, so Du Shuo guided Chen Yang to sit with him. The large black umbrella was placed beside them, water droplets gathering at its tip and pooling on the floor. The dripping sound was especially clear in the quiet bus. Chen Yang’s fingers twitched, suddenly realizing the water sound shouldn’t be there. He lifted his head and scanned the bus. From the last row, he could see only a few heads and arms, none showing any signs of disturbance.

Thinking about it, he lowered his gaze to the floor and noticed black blood trickling from under the driver’s seat. The dripping sound came from there.

Chen Yang pursed his lips, his brows furrowing as he clenched a copper coin, his body tense. After a moment, Du Shuo’s hand reached over to hold his, making Chen Yang look at him in surprise. Du Shuo said, “Don’t be afraid.”

Chen Yang stared at him, then slowly looked away, focusing on the hand that clasped his. It was pale, with long, strong fingers, significantly larger than his own. “I’m not afraid.”

Du Shuo lowered his head, “Hmm?”

“Not afraid,” Chen Yang repeated. He was just worried Du Shuo would find him troublesome, dealing with ghosts and spirits around him every day. Although Du Shuo had to manage matters in the underworld, he still had to handle the ghosts lingering around Chen Yang in the mortal realm. And these spirits were persistent, clinging to his physical body and fate.

Even though nothing was said, it was as if Du Shuo could read his thoughts through his eyes. He patted Chen Yang’s hand and said, “I understand.”

The bus crossed the bridge and arrived at the intersection. Chen Yang expected the ghosts wouldn’t let them go easily, but to his surprise, the bus did stop at the station. Before he could react, Du Shuo had taken his hand and led him off the bus. The rain had eased somewhat, and there were few pedestrians on the road, with the wind tilting the trees in the same direction.

Du Shuo opened the umbrella, pulled Chen Yang into his arms, and stepped into the rain. “Let’s go.”

Chen Yang glanced back at the bus, which was still parked at the station. Suddenly, it crumbled, emitting white smoke, the front collapsing, and the rear catching fire. The driver, whose head was half severed, and the mutilated passengers inside stared at them with eyes filled with resentment, unwillingness, and fear. As they walked further, the bus moved a few meters before gradually disappearing.

It was a ghost bus. Chen Yang recalled hearing about a bus that crashed off a cliff in mid-August during a rainy day, killing the driver and six passengers.

They walked quickly, and the bus stop wasn’t far from home. Soon, they reached the house. Entering, Chen Yang noticed the lights were off, likely because Grandpa Wu was still asleep. Chen Yang turned to see Du Shuo putting the black umbrella in a bucket by the door, his shoulders wet from the rain, and his trousers also damp.

Even though Du Shuo had tilted the umbrella towards him, keeping his upper body and backpack dry, the heavy rain and water on the ground had splashed onto his trousers. Chen Yang said, “I’ll run a hot bath for you. You should take a bath first.”

He ran upstairs to his room and ran a hot bath, testing the temperature before calling Du Shuo to bathe. Hesitating, he asked, “Do you have clothes?”

Du Shuo’s gaze deepened as he looked at him, “No.”

Chen Yang scratched his head and hesitated before saying, “I have a set of clothes I tailored for my dad that he never wore. It should be about your size. I’ll find it for you.” He turned to leave and added, “You should bathe first.”

He found the clothes in his parents’ room, clean and smelling of laundry detergent as he regularly washed and sun-dried them. Carrying the clothes and new underwear, he returned to his room and knocked on the bathroom door, saying softly, “I brought your clothes. Take them.”

Soon, the bathroom door opened a crack, and steam wafted onto Chen Yang’s face. A wet hand reached out, “Where?” Chen Yang handed the clothes over and returned to sit on the large red marriage bed. The room was decorated with wedding motifs, red bedding embroidered with mandarin ducks, a clear sign it was a wedding chamber.

Chen Yang swung his legs and coughed a few times before taking out a book to study. He had just started on math when the bathroom door opened, and Du Shuo emerged with damp hair, expressionless, handing him a towel, “Dry my hair.”

“Oh.” Chen Yang took the towel and then suddenly realized, why should he dry Du Shuo’s hair? Yet Du Shuo acted so naturally, as if it were perfectly normal. Puzzled but unable to argue, Chen Yang helped him dry his hair, finding his messy hair amusing. Even with a cold expression, he seemed less intimidating.

Chen Yang asked, “Do the clothes fit?”

Du Shuo frowned, “A bit short.” The sleeves only reached his wrists, and the trousers stopped at his ankles. He frowned again, uncomfortable, “Tight.”

Chen Yang realized what was happening, cleared his throat twice, and said, “Next time, I’ll make two suits for you… and buy some new underwear.”

Du Shuo sat casually in the seat Chen Yang had been sitting in and asked when he saw the books on the table, “Your coursework?”

“Yeah. The transition from sophomore to junior year is quick, and the college entrance exams are just around the corner. I want to prepare in advance so I can review better for the exams. Plus, at school, I’m always getting messed with by ghosts and can’t study properly. So, I’ve gotten used to preparing at home,” Chen Yang explained.

Flipping through the textbook and lightly tapping the table with his index finger, Du Shuo asked, “Haven’t you been studying Taoist techniques?”

“I have,” Chen Yang replied. “When ghosts bother me during class, I hide and study Taoism. I only prepare my lessons when I get home. Thankfully, the coursework isn’t too difficult. Otherwise, I would have died already.” He spoke with a hint of self-mockery rather than resentment about being troubled by ghosts.

Du Shuo pointed out bluntly, “Your Taoist skills are poor.”

Chen Yang smiled awkwardly. “I don’t have the talent for it. Sometimes I understand the techniques, but I just can’t use them.”

Du Shuo remained silent. In fact, Chen Yang’s talent and fate were unique. He was suited for studying ghostly Taoism, and Wu Kui, a master of ghost Taoist techniques, had only taught him superficial knowledge to protect him, rather than teaching him the deeper ghost Taoist methods.

People with peculiar yin destinies were seen as ominous by the underworld and would be immediately targeted, especially if they dared to study ghostly Taoism. If Chen Yang had truly practiced ghostly Taoist techniques, Du Shuo wouldn’t have spared him during their first encounter.

Chen Yang said, “I left your clothes in the bathroom. I’ll wash them together later.”

Du Shuo nodded, “Okay.”

Grandpa Wu, after waking up from a drunken nap and stretching, noticed the lights on in the living room and Chen Yang’s room, guessing that he was back. He went upstairs, knocked on the door, and opened it, saying, “Yangyang, how about we fry some eight-treasure rice tonight—!!! What are you two doing?!!”

Chen Yang was slightly surprised, holding a towel in his hand. Blinking in confusion, he wondered what they had done wrong.

Grandpa Wu’s face turned green with anger as he pulled Chen Yang behind him, glaring at Du Shuo with a mixture of heartbreak and resentment as if his innocent, pure son had been snatched by an old rival.

“You’re breaking your promise!” Grandpa Wu shouted.

Chen Yang tugged at Grandpa Wu’s sleeve, “What’s wrong?”

Grandpa Wu was distraught. “Why did you let him into your room?”

Chen Yang, looking puzzled, replied, “It’s no big deal. I was just helping him dry his hair.” He regarded Du Shuo as a benefactor, despite feeling awkward because of their connection to the heavens and earth, but the gratitude overshadowed that.

Grandpa Wu sputtered, “He even took off his clothes!” Wasn’t sleeping together the next step?

Chen Yang chuckled, “I forgot to bring an umbrella, so he picked me up from school. We got soaked, so I told him to take a shower and gave him the middle clothes made for Dad to change into.”

“He’s even showering here? Isn’t there a bathroom downstairs?”

“The bathrooms upstairs and downstairs are the same.”

They’re not the same at all, Grandpa Wu thought angrily, looking suspiciously at Du Shuo. The latter glanced over calmly, with a trace of disdain, as if mocking his impure thoughts. Reflecting on the lack of ambiguity between the two when he opened the door, Grandpa Wu wondered if he had overthought it.

Grandpa Wu clutched his chest, “I feel uneasy.”

Chen Yang said, “Maybe you drank too much.” He ushered Grandpa Wu downstairs, “I’ll make some sobering soup. Don’t drink secretly while I’m at school anymore, or I’ll be mad.”

Grandpa Wu conceded, “Fine, fine. I only drink occasionally, not regularly.”

“You secretly drink when I’m not around, and Auntie next door told me. Aren’t you ashamed to deny it?” Chen Yang’s anger was real, and Grandpa Wu fell silent, unwilling to deny further, admitting his fault.

Du Shuo listened to their conversation, a smile appearing on his face before recalling the ghosts that attacked Chen Yang when he picked him up. On a rainy day, so many ghosts surrounded him. If neither he nor Wu Kui had gone, Chen Yang would have been in a hopeless situation. He must have encountered this often, or he wouldn’t have reacted so calmly. Despite everything, he still noticed Du Shuo’s damp clothes and prepared a bath for him.

Such thoughtfulness made Du Shuo’s heart soften. If ghosts harmed Chen Yang, it would be a pity. If Chen Yang practiced ghostly Taoism, he could grow more exceptional.

After making sobering soup and forcing Grandpa Wu to drink it, Chen Yang gathered all the hidden bottles of alcohol around the house and banned Grandpa Wu from drinking for a while. He then went to shower and change before preparing dinner. After dinner, he sat in the living room, engrossed in a Taoist book, while Du Shuo and Grandpa Wu were in the courtyard, the rain having stopped.

“You haven’t told him that learning those Taoist techniques is pointless,” Du Shuo remarked.

Grandpa Wu snorted, “Yangyang has good potential. Even if the methods are wrong, simple charms can still save him in critical moments.”

“That makes it even more wrong to deceive him.”

“Why should I teach him ghost Taoism?” Grandpa Wu retorted sarcastically.

Du Shuo was silent for a moment before finally relenting, “You can teach him now.”

Grandpa Wu was stunned, a storm of emotions churning inside him, though he maintained a wary, cold demeanor. “Are you truly certain you have no designs on Yangyang?”

Du Shuo cast a frosty glance at him, his gaze nearly tangible like icy blades. “Disrespectful in old age.”

Grandpa Wu quickly recovered and respectfully replied, “I couldn’t possibly match you; your virtue is lofty, setting an example for others. I will strive to follow your lead. Surely, you regard Yangyang as a grandchild. Haha, I know elders love obedient grandchildren like him.” He sighed deeply, lamenting, “Yangyang is so endearing at times that it’s hard not to care for him. All the elders in the nearby villages adore him. If not for his fate, Yangyang would surely be a lively child.”

Indeed, Du Shuo viewed Chen Yang as a younger generation. However, hearing Grandpa Wu’s words left him feeling irritable. He attributed this to how displeasing Wu Kui seemed, saying with hands behind his back, “You may begin teaching him ghost arts.” Then, recalling Wu Kui’s limited time, he added, “If Chen Yang masters controlling and vanquishing ghosts without changing his nature, I will teach him.”

If Chen Yang could receive guidance from the Emperor of Fengdu, it would be an extraordinary blessing. Hearing this, Grandpa Wu respectfully bowed deeply, sincerely saying, “If Yangyang lives past eighteen, I will have him honor you as his godfather, serving you devoutly.” It was a custom in the mortal world to honor figures like the King of Hell, Lu Pan, City Gods, or the Emperor of Fengdu as godfathers. If both parties agreed, Chen Yang would revere Du Shuo as he would a father.

Grandpa Wu also had a calculated plan. If Chen Yang could truly honor the Emperor of Fengdu as his godfather, even after dissolving their marriage ties post-eighteen, he could still be under the Emperor’s protection. Such a significant connection was not something to miss.

Du Shuo responded firmly, “No need.” Once again feeling annoyed, he was now certain that Wu Kui was truly unpleasant.

Grandpa Wu was somewhat disappointed but soon found joy in the arrangement. Receiving guidance from the Emperor of Fengdu and considering their past marriage ties, no ghost would dare trouble Chen Yang. At the very least, Chen Yang’s future seemed secure. Delighted, he returned to his room, pulling the book of spells from Chen Yang’s hands and telling him, “Yangyang, from today, Grandpa Wu will teach you ghost arts. You must learn seriously.”

Unfamiliar with ghost arts but seeing Grandpa Wu’s solemn demeanor, Chen Yang nodded. “Alright.”

From then on, Grandpa Wu poured everything he could teach and even those he couldn’t into Chen Yang. He recorded his incomplete understanding in a booklet, ensuring Chen Yang missed nothing, and even sought new ghost arts from an old tomb. Knowing his days were numbered and unable to stay long in the mortal world, he hurriedly passed on all he could to Chen Yang.

Fortunately, even if he was no longer around, Chen Yang’s intelligence would help him comprehend the teachings. And if not, Du Shuo would be there.

Chen Yang knew Grandpa Wu’s time was near but didn’t expect it to come at the beginning of winter. One cold night, worried Grandpa Wu might have drunk himself into forgetting to cover up, he took a quilt downstairs to his room.

After tucking him in, Chen Yang walked to the door, but Grandpa Wu turned on the light and called him back, “Yangyang, come talk with Grandpa Wu.”

Chen Yang pulled a chair to the bedside. “What do you want to talk about?”

Grandpa Wu asked, “How’s your progress with the arts? Have any ghosts bothered you recently?”

Chen Yang shook his head, smiling. “I’ve got the hang of it. Yesterday, I encountered a ghost trying to harm me behind the school, but I sent it into reincarnation with my spells.”

“You didn’t destroy it directly?”

“No. It hadn’t harmed anyone before, and erasing it felt too harsh. If it could be sent into reincarnation, I let it go.”

Grandpa Wu smiled, pleased that Chen Yang didn’t harbor resentment towards ghosts despite past experiences. Still, he cautioned, “Like humans, ghosts can be kind or vile, some violent and unruly. Show no mercy to malevolent spirits. Trust nothing they say; they are not to be spared. Kill on sight.”

Chen Yang nodded. “I understand.”

Grandpa Wu pondered, then spoke more seriously, lowering his voice, “Always show great respect to—show great respect to Du Shuo, as you would your grandfather or father.”

Chen Yang was puzzled. “Huh?”

Grandpa Wu patted his arm with a knowing look. “Trust me, it’s for the best.”

Chen Yang reluctantly agreed. “Okay.”

“Go back to sleep.” Grandpa Wu waved him off. Chen Yang walked to the door but paused, a sudden sense of impending loss gripping him. He turned back to look at Grandpa Wu.

Grandpa Wu lay peacefully, his gaze serene, as if preparing for a grand journey with calm resolve. He smoothed the folds of his clothes, unafraid and unwavering.

“Goodnight, Grandpa Wu.”

“Goodnight.”

That was the last time Chen Yang heard Grandpa Wu bid him farewell. The next day, Grandpa Wu lay peacefully in bed, dressed in his finest clothes, eyes closed, a gentle smile on his face, having passed away peacefully.

Chen Yang knelt at the bedside, covering his face with his hands, silently weeping. Du Shuo stood at the door for a while, then, with a soft sigh, entered and gently embraced Chen Yang, whispering, “Don’t be sad. I’m still here.”

 

 

 

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