The Many Facets of Life

Zhang Yuanqing pondered in silence for a long time, deciding not to expose the existence of the Red Dancing Shoes for the time being.

First, the matter of Ou Xiangrong's escape had only just begun, and the Five Elements Alliance had yet to initiate their follow-up actions. As an official organization, they might have other methods to track that Bewitching Demon.

There was no need for a newcomer like him to intervene.

Second, he was only a Level 1 Night Wanderer, a novice among Spirit Realm Walkers. If he exposed the existence of a Rule-type item, it would likely invite covetous eyes.

He would wait and see, observe what actions the organization took next, and then make his choice based on the situation. Zhang Yuanqing stopped overthinking, gazing at the night scenery outside the car window as he waited to reach his destination.

For now, increasing his strength was the most critical priority.

Five minutes later, the taxi dropped him off at the entrance of Songhai Pulmonary Hospital. After paying the fare, Zhang Yuanqing entered the hospital, heading purposefully toward the emergency department building.

At this hour, the outpatient clinic was already closed, and the hospital's patients were primarily concentrated in the emergency department.

Inside the emergency department, the place was bustling with people; patients were either sitting on public chairs or moving between the payment windows and various departments.

Zhang Yuanqing crossed the payment hall, wove through the crowded throng, and found a seat near the restrooms.

After sitting down, he stretched out his legs and waited like a farmer waiting for a rabbit to hit a tree.

To a spirit, the aura of a Night Wanderer was like a firefly in the darkness—so conspicuous and distinct.

He didn't need to search deliberately; they would come to him on their own.

The existence of an ordinary person's spirit lasted only seven days. Unless someone had just died nearby, one couldn't wait for spirits to come automatically, which made the hospital the best place for leveling up.

About five minutes later, Zhang Yuanqing saw an elderly man in a hospital gown walking toward him with a dull gaze and stiff gait, moving through the crowd.

The old man's body existed between the illusory and the real; passing patients walked through him as if walking through air.

He looked haggard, his white eyes eerie, radiating an aura of pain and regret.

This was a vengeful spirit.

Generally speaking, people turned into vengeful spirits after death; there was no such thing as a spirit with a peaceful aura, because no one was willing to die.

Their attachment to life and fear of death eventually transformed into a helpless, lingering resentment.

Seeing the old man reach him, Zhang Yuanqing opened his mouth and inhaled gently.

The old man's spirit turned into blue smoke, drifting into his mouth in wisps.

His glabella throbbed with pressure, his consciousness expanded abruptly, and Zhang Yuanqing read the fragmented memories of the old man's life.

The old man had died of late-stage lung cancer. In the latter part of his life, he had departed this world under the dual torture of chemotherapy and cancer—coughing blood, hair loss, shortness of breath, and pain. He had not passed away peacefully.

His final lingering thought was a regret over why he had ever smoked.

"I will never smoke again."

Zhang Yuanqing opened his eyes and blurted out, his face full of regret.

People around him looked over in surprise.

Zhang Yuanqing remained expressionless, pretending that nothing had happened to mask his inner embarrassment.

Until the passersby looked away and his surging emotions returned to calm, he tapped open his attribute panel, and the fluorescent blue light screen unfolded:

[Experience Points: 44.5%]

Zhao Yingjun's spirit was worth two points of experience, while an ordinary person's is only 0.5—like the difference between a common wild monster and an elite monster? And the further I go, the less experience I'll likely get; I might not even get 0.5. It seems I can only accumulate bit by bit. Zhang Yuanqing thought thoughtfully.

Regardless, this intuitive, visible improvement was gratifying.

He returned to his seat, pretending nothing had happened. A few minutes later, a middle-aged man dressed in a suit, looking like an office worker, walked toward him with a wooden expression.

The people around him ignored the man and walked right through him.

Zhang Yuanqing inhaled the man's spirit just as he had before. As the spirit transformed into energy to nourish the Night Wanderer, fragments of memory surged in like a tide.

The middle-aged man had died of overwork, suffering a sudden heart attack—a victim of the well-known "996" blessing.

The man had passed away peacefully; after all, a sudden death happened in an instant, and one didn't even feel the pain.

But after reading the man's memories, Zhang Yuanqing knew his wife had just had a second child, the baby still in swaddling clothes. It was precisely to earn money for formula that he had worked so desperately, throwing himself into the "blessing."

What was more, the man was born in the eighties; people from that generation rarely had siblings. Once he was gone, his parents would have no one to rely on in the future.

Using one's life to earn money, only for everything to lose its meaning in the end.

Zhang Yuanqing's consciousness returned, and he felt a bone-piercing sorrow and bewilderment.

What is the meaning of a life like this? He sat there blankly, remaining expressionless for a long time.

At this moment, the third spirit arrived.

It was a woman with beautiful features, Korean-style semi-permanent eyebrows, and clothing that exuded luxury and refinement.

A high-quality human female.

It's a pity, such a young and beautiful person passing away.

When she drew closer, Zhang Yuanqing noticed her chest was sunken, her black slim-fit top soaked in illusory blood. Furthermore, the back of her head seemed to have suffered unimaginable trauma, the blood matting her hair into strands.

She wasn't wearing a hospital gown, which meant she hadn't died during a hospital stay, but rather from an accident or homicide. Zhang Yuanqing inhaled gently, devouring the high-quality female's spirit.

His glabella swelled, and memories that did not belong to him poured into his sea of consciousness.

Zhang Yuanqing's vision went black, and the next moment, he saw a pair of long, slender, fair legs sitting on the edge of a bed, slowly rolling up a pair of black silk stockings.

Oh, so that's how women put on stockings. Zhang Yuanqing, single since birth for twenty years, gained a wave of insight.

Just then, a man's smoky voice drifted from behind him:

"Don't text me at night anymore. My wife almost saw it last night."

Zhang Yuanqing's heart skipped a beat.

A man, a bed, and the act of putting on stockings—anyone could guess what had just happened.

I really shouldn't swallow female spirits so easily; it's just not appropriate! he muttered to himself, feeling immensely grateful. Thank goodness the memory started from the stockings. If it had been a few minutes later, I might have been lying down, or kneeling...

Well, there's no strange taste in my mouth either, thank goodness. As he was thinking this, he heard the woman he was "possessing" scoff:

"Isn't that perfect? Divorce her and marry me."

The man behind him rustled as he put on his clothes and sneered:

"I have a son and a daughter, and I'm planning for a third next year. Why on earth would I divorce for you? Besides, if I divorce, half my assets go out the door.

"We had an agreement, didn't we? You play the mistress, I give you money. Once you've saved enough, you can marry whoever you want—even some honest guy. If you ever want to end things, just let me know. But don't get any ideas you shouldn't have."

The woman seemed angry and didn't say another word. After the man left, she sped wildly through the streets in her little BMW to vent her emotions.

In the end, she got into a car accident and died after failed resuscitation efforts.

The scene ended. Zhang Yuanqing opened his eyes and rubbed his throbbing temples, a sense of indignation rising in his heart. Sister, why bother? he thought. High-end seafood merchants usually only need simple auction methods; there's a market everywhere. Why get so worked up over a man? How many men are actually worth it?

Also, marrying an honest guy is impossible—that's never happening in this lifetime.

As he thought this, he suddenly realized something was wrong.

Why do I have such a strong sense of identification with women? I'm clearly a lancer.

A few seconds later, Zhang Yuanqing realized he had been unconsciously influenced by the high-quality female spirit, causing his thoughts to lean feminine and sparking a strong desire for money and material goods within him.

And that "I don't smoke" he'd blurted out earlier? That had been influenced by the old man's spirit.

After he stabilized his mind, the fourth spirit approached. This was a thin, handsome young man who easily brought to mind terms like "little puppy."

He doesn't look any worse than me. I should stick to absorbing male spirits; it's safer and more secure. Even if that kind of thing happens, I'll be the one on top.

He opened his mouth and swallowed the little puppy spirit into his belly.

Harsh noise vibrated against his eardrums, and full-color LED lights spun, creating a dazzling display of light pollution.

Looking around, there were only swaying figures, bobbing heads, and the pungent smell of smoke in the air.

This was a bar.

Zhang Yuanqing felt his body swaying uncontrollably while he grabbed a glass from the booth and drank with his friends.

Amidst the cathartic release of emotions and the hollow joy intertwined with alcohol and dice, the little puppy and his friends didn't leave until two in the morning.

The two called a ride-hailing car and returned to a rental apartment, where his burly friend helped him open the bedroom door.

Although Zhang Yuanqing couldn't control the body, his own consciousness was clear. He noticed the person he was possessing was dead drunk, his brain vessels throbbing with pain. He guessed the man had died from alcohol poisoning or sudden cardiac arrest.

As he was guessing, the little puppy was tossed onto the bed. His friend helped him take off his shoes and pants, tucked him in, and wiped the sweat from his face with a wet wipe.

This friend is a keeper, Zhang Yuanqing thought.

The moment the thought arose, he realized the friend was starting to take off his own clothes, pulled back the quilt, and quickly stripped the little puppy bare.

Zhang Yuanqing was stunned, feeling that something was very wrong.

Just then, he heard the little puppy mumble groggily:

"Hubby~"

The "friend" pressed down on the little puppy's body, raised a tube of Vaseline, and said with a mouth full of alcohol:

"Stick your butt up, let me put some oil on you!"

??? Zhang Yuanqing's brain went "boom," as if struck by a thunderbolt.

No! No! No!

You can't do this! You can't do this!!

In extreme fear and panic, Zhang Yuanqing forcibly cut off the memory reading.

In the outpatient building, at the seat by the restroom, Zhang Yuanqing snapped his eyes open. He gasped for air as if he had just woken from a nightmare.

His face was pale, his eyes filled with horror, and sweat soaked his back.

"Young man, are you alright?" the middle-aged woman in the next seat asked with concern.

"Did you register? Where do you feel unwell?"

Zhang Yuanqing waved his hand to indicate he was fine, then bolted into the restroom, turned on the faucet, and splashed handfuls of cold water onto his face.

Too terrifying, men are too terrifying!

I have suffered damage that this gender should not have to endure.