Chapter 101: Is the Demon Afraid of Ghosts?

“Clap! Clap! Clap!”
Applause echoed through the cave.
The silence of the cavern made the sound resound sharply.
Before Jin Ge Wen could say a word, she felt something slimy coil around her body, pressing against her back. A shiver ran through her scalp.
“Who are you?”
The man was slippery and elusive, like a loach. Jin Ge Wen tried to grab him but failed; even the Buddha’s light failed to touch him.
Clearly, this creature feared the Purple-Gold Bowl.
“Never thought the venerable Master Wen would be such a coward.”
“Aren’t you scared?”
The young man's voice betrayed a hint of youth. He choked on his own saliva, coughing a few times before asking, “Why is Master Wen different from before?”
“Do you know me?” Jin Ge Wen grew wary.
Could it be a vengeful spirit?
What did the sins of her former self have to do with who she was now?
Perhaps this man was blind and had mistaken her identity.
“Yes! I know you.” He sighed, and from the shadows, his true form finally emerged.
It was hard to describe the feeling—like a leech growing from the mud, feeding on human blood, somewhat repulsive.
“Can you change your appearance?”
“Master Wen used to say that this look was better, neither human nor ghost,” he replied.
Jin Ge Wen lit a mental row of candles and squinted. “Shall we fight?”
“I can’t win.” The boy was honest. He gestured toward the cavern as if inviting her for a casual chat. “Master Wen, it wasn’t easy finding you here, was it?”
“It was a bit exhausting,” she admitted, baffled by his strange behavior.
“Why not sit down?” He even brought over a chair for her.
Jin Ge Wen’s lips twitched but she didn’t refuse. If he was so openly scheming, he was too foolish for his own good.
“Master Wen, you’re not afraid I’ll poison you?”
“….” Jin Ge Wen thought silently: what a sly old fox.
“I used to be terrified of you, Master Wen.”

“First, can you tell me who you are?”
The leech-like man took human form, stepping forward steadily to stand before Jin Ge Wen.
She looked at the puddles of water on the ground and understood: moisture evaporates quickly in the desert, no wonder she couldn’t find anyone. The monk must be confident the person came this way, probably relying on some magical artifact. She resolved to steal it once she left.
“Demon Clan’s Sacred Son?” Jin Ge Wen raised an eyebrow, weighing her options. “Are you trying to stall me so you can do something to my disciples outside?”
“Originally!” He touched his face, about to say something but was interrupted. “Is this face good-looking?”
“A bit fake. Whose skin did you peel off? You look like a courtesan from a tavern.” Jin Ge Wen spoke without thinking, just to provoke him. “A bit seductive.”
Indeed, the man’s face held a certain allure, reminding Jin Ge Wen of a frequently mentioned villainous sect in novels—the Pleasure Sect.
The sect’s members cultivated seductive arts but could never rival his natural charm; his allure was innate, while theirs was mere technique.
“Not the skin of the North Demon Bell, of course.”
That hit the mark. The man was enraged. “How am I any less than her? You were always like this.”
“You make me sound like a scoundrel.” Jin Ge Wen clicked her tongue thoughtfully, then teased him by tilting his chin. “You’re a demon, after all. And I’m a righteous cultivator. How could I consort with you?”
“You don’t consort with me, you bully me!”
Goosebumps are peculiar—they appear on your skin beyond your control.
Usually, when cold, they remind you to dress warmly. But in the world of cultivators, at Jin Ge Wen’s strange level, such things no longer suffer from wind, snow, or sun.
Sometimes, goosebumps reveal hidden discomfort, showing a refined person’s inner frustration.
Right now, Jin Ge Wen had both.
Her mind was sickened; her heart still chilled.
“I… insult you?”
A big question mark filled her mind.
She had been secluded for fifty years, and fifty years ago, she neither formed cliques nor played politics, living like a shadow detached from the world. Those who knew her deeds were long gone.
“Don’t talk nonsense! You’re a demon. Even back then, you…”
“Those spiders!” The leech’s eyes glistened with tears. “Back then, I wasn’t even chosen as the Sacred Son.”
It seemed a long time ago; he was an insignificant figure then.
“You were the one who transformed me into human form.”
“…”
Jin Ge Wen closed her eyes and placed the Purple-Gold Bowl atop her head. The cave’s light vanished, but an angelic glow radiated above her.

Ah, what a heartbreaker!
“You also gave me the Dream Weavers.”
“Dream Weavers.” Jin Ge Wen was familiar with the term. Within the Ten-Thousand-Fathom Peak, there was a book, probably penned by her former self, recording various fantastical demons and creatures of the present era.
They could invade a person’s dreams. If someone remained trapped too long, they might never awaken.
“So…” She finally understood. While he was chatting casually, he intended to deploy the Dream Weavers. “You don’t mean that after I called you ugly the first thing upon seeing your human form, you think being a demon means…”
“A demon is a demon—lowly, ugly!”
Jin Ge Wen scratched her head, embarrassed by such blunt words.
“So, through my own effort, I became the Sacred Son of the Demon Clan. Master Wen, if you say I’m beautiful, I’ll release one of your disciples.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” The Sacred Son thought releasing a hopeless disciple wouldn’t affect his grand plan.
“You’re beautiful! You’re handsome! You’re simply amazing! You’re the darling of all, the bloom that dazzles every carriage wheel! You’re perfect! Absolutely stunning!”
Jin Ge Wen rattled off the compliments, counting them on her fingers before spreading her hand wide. “They’re all my disciples. Can I release them all?”
“The coffin? The coffin too?”
“Yes!” Jin Ge Wen blinked, showing none of the dignity befitting a master.
The Sacred Son puckered his lips, intending to touch the Purple-Gold Bowl on Jin Ge Wen’s head to see if he had mistaken her identity.
But as soon as he stretched out his hand, it felt as if something held it back. He looked at Jin Ge Wen in confusion, but she sat upright, hands politely resting on her knees as if welcoming inspection.
He felt nothing amiss and tried to pull back his hand but it would not budge.
“What did you do to me?”
“Hm?”
“Why can’t I move my hand?”
“I was about to take the beads off your hand. Didn’t you tell me not to?” Jin Ge Wen looked at him oddly, then suddenly laughed heartily. “Haha, you’ve got someone here, don’t you? My disciple just said someone blew on the back of his neck.”
“A ghost!” The man seemed to realize and fled in embarrassment.
“A demon afraid of ghosts?”