CHAPTER 68: CHAPTER 67: PLEASE WRITE A POEM FOR THE GHOST

Ghost Spirit Void Realm.

Chen Xu stood beside Wu Zhengze, listening to him explain the existence of the Ghost Spirit Void Realm, but his heart was pounding.

It turned out that at the moment when the Twilight Ancient Plain turned into the Moonlit Ghost Market right before his eyes, Chen Xu’s "status" on the Food Cauldron Celestial Book personal panel had changed again.

[Current Status: 80% Supernatural Awakening]

In just an instant, the previously gradually increasing progress of the supernatural awakening directly surged forward.

The Ghost Spirit Void Realm seemed terrifying, but at this very moment, Chen Xu only felt a mysterious wonder, not fear.

He had also dreamt of the Ghost Market before; the ghost market in his dreams naturally had many differences from the one before his eyes.

Dreams are chaotic, while the Ghost Market in front of him actually had logic.

After Wu Zhengze finished speaking, the panicked and fleeing people seemed to be stunned by his words, as if they were frozen in place by a Body-Freezing Technique.

Suddenly, someone broke through the crowd and rushed out, kneeling on the ground with a "bang" and crying out in pain, "Sir, save me, please save me!"

"If you save me, there is some modest wealth in my family... No, there is an Advanced Scholar in my clan, and three Scholars; if sir can save me, there will be great rewards from my clan."

These words were like a loud gong, awakening everyone.

More and more people came to their senses and begged Wu Zhengze for help.

"Sir, save me..."

"I am willing to offer a hundred gold..."

But Wu Zhengze couldn’t save anyone. He said, "In the Ghost Spirit Void Realm, no one can save another. But there is a way to survive. Every Ghost Spirit Void Realm has a Ghost Order.

One only needs to follow the rules of the Ghost Order to potentially find a way out."

As his words fell, a faint laughter suddenly echoed.

"So there is someone knowledgeable here..." The voice was eerie and ethereal, as if carried by the wind.

As the wind blew, a Moonlit Beauty floated down the long street.

Half of her face was beautifully mournful, while the other half was a sinister white bone, with bare feet and no skin beneath her flowing dress.

Dark red flesh with horrifying burn marks walked step by step towards them. With each closer step, everyone present felt their heartbeat quicken slightly.

It seemed as if some strange drumbeat was tapping on everyone’s heart, making it feel as if their Qi Blood was about to swell and their hearts were about to burst.

Finally, someone couldn’t bear it any longer and shouted, "Don’t come closer! Stop..."

Thump!

That was the sound of the skeletal beauty coming to a stop, yet it also seemed like the sound of everyone’s heartbeat.

But the woman eventually stopped.

She stopped, tilted her head and addressed them with her beautiful side face, saying, "What are you doing? I’m not an uncivil ghost who eats people indiscriminately, what are you afraid of?

Alas, would you rather be eaten than select a few desirable items from this Ghost Market?"

At these words, a flash of insight struck Chen Xu, and he immediately understood.

Beside him, Chang Song also realized, blurting out, "Since it’s a Ghost Market, does it mean that if you buy something from it, you can leave?"

"Indeed, since we are fated to meet, how could we let passing guests leave empty-handed?"

The skeletal beauty grinned sideways, "Wouldn’t that make it seem like our Ghost Market has nothing..."

The ghost suddenly turned her other face, her tone abruptly becoming sharp, "... of use?"

"Hehehe..."

She laughed.

Amidst the eerie white bones, it seemed as if a burst of ghostly fire suddenly flared from the hollow eye sockets.

The icy burning sensation immediately caused another scream from the crowd, and someone shouted, taking a few steps back and falling to the ground.

Coincidentally, the person who fell was the same one who previously mocked Chang Song for his "lack of knowledge."

Even though he lost composure, Chang Song didn’t mock him back this time.

Nor did anyone else laugh at him.

No one laughed, but there were ghosts who did.

"Hee hee hee..."

"Eek eek eek..."

Under the pale moonlight, paper lanterns swayed to and fro.

On both sides of the long street, behind darkened stalls, clusters of ghostly shadows laughed, their forms swaying.

Suddenly, a head rolled down.

A small figure hurriedly ran out from behind a stall, picked up the head, and placed it back on its neck.

The skeletal beauty scolded it, "You are being naughty."

The small figure obediently stayed silent behind the stall.

Everyone alive on the long street also dared not speak.

The skeletal beauty pointed to Chang Song: "You, come and see if there is anything here that catches your eye?"

Chang Song’s lips trembled, but he mustered the courage to step forward and asked, "I don’t know what I could use as payment? I only have five taels of silver on me."

"No, you also have your eyes, your ears, your tongue, your limbs, your internal organs... hehehe."

"I, I..." Chang Song retreated in fear, unable to maintain his composure.

Seeing that he too was about to fall, a hand suddenly reached out from behind to support his back.

Chang Song quickly turned his head and saw a face that wasn’t too familiar but was somewhat recognizable.

It was Chen Xu, supporting him from behind at just the right moment.

For some reason, upon seeing the calm demeanor of the other, a trace of panic in Chang Song’s heart suddenly subsided.

At this moment, Chang Song didn’t bother to express gratitude, as he heard the ghostly woman say, "Of course, you can also compose a poem for the vendor of the item you choose.

After all, weren’t you having a poetry gathering here just now?

This poetry gathering, if it can be for people, should also be for ghosts."

Compose a poem for ghosts!

Everyone present collectively breathed a sigh of relief.

Great, it’s just composing a poem; who here wouldn’t know how to do that?

Chang Song was no longer afraid, immediately straightening his back and walking to a stall.

He randomly chose this stall since all the items sold on each one were uniformly eerie, and he couldn’t make a choice.

He could only select from a heap of—

bloodstained skin scrolls, twitching human eyeballs, twisted white threads...

bone needles, skull masks, blackened paper umbrellas, rusty copper coins...

and other items, randomly picking something that looked not so terrifying, resembling a wheat sheaf, and composedly said, "I’ll choose this. What kind of poem would you like me to compose?"

Behind the stall, a ghostly shadow spoke in a hoarse voice full of age, "I’m an old tenant farmer; at ten, my father fell ill, and we sold three mu of land.

At twenty-three, my youngest son got his head cracked by the young master from the neighboring village; to save him, I sold another two mu of land.

At thirty, my wife had a difficult labor, sold two more...

Later, I lost all my land and became a tenant farmer.

Later still, when harvests were poor, to save food for my sons and grandchildren, I starved myself to death.

This life, opening and closing one’s eyes, dry and uninteresting.

Unexpectedly, as a ghost, there’s a scholar writing a poem for me.

Hey, scholar, you may write about me."

Chang Song placed his hands at his sides, clenching and relaxing them.

He never expected that he would be moved by the mundane life of a ghost.

He was thankful for his humble beginnings, often writing Pity the Farmer poems, meaning he didn’t have to rack his brain to create verses.

He just needed to pick one from among his usual poems and make a few modifications.

So, under everyone’s gaze, Chang Song cupped his hands and spoke loudly, "I will compose a poem for you, elder.

Who remembers this old man starved, the thin farmland once tilled hard.

Alas, hunger had no relief, he consigned himself to eternity."

Once the poem was completed, Chang Song’s heart pounded relentlessly.