In the blink of an eye, wandering ghosts emerged one after another from the rundown old streets, quickly surrounding us.
My master and I watched without reacting.
Still, it was a little strange. There were clearly far too many wandering ghosts here.
My master withdrew his hand seal and said to me,
"Xiao Jiang, ask them."
"Okay, Master!"
As I spoke, I grabbed a handful of rice and scattered it around us.
"Everyone, come have some rice."
I spoke as I scattered it.
Rice grains pattered continuously onto the ground. When the ghosts saw them, their eyes widened, and they hurried over.
"Rice! There's rice!"
"I want some! I want some!"
"..."
The ghosts rushed over in a frenzy. Seeing the grains on the ground, they pounced on them and began picking them up to eat.
"Delicious, delicious..."
"Give me two grains, give me two grains!"
"Don't grab them! They're mine, mine..."
"..."
It was difficult for the living to imagine why ghosts would fight over a single grain of rice.
In the world of wandering ghosts, they did not know how to cultivate or how to absorb the essence of moonlight.
They drifted through each day like walking corpses, able to feel cold and heat. Without offerings or yin energy from moonlight to sustain them, they also felt "hunger"...
Especially ghosts who had wandered for a long time. They spent every day suffering from agonizing hunger and enduring the torment of wind and rain.
Even if they saw cooked rice or fruit, they could not eat it without someone making an offering.
Now that they had suddenly found edible rice, they ate with the madness of starving dogs pouncing on food...
"It's so good. I haven't eaten rice in three years."
"Only three years? It's been nearly thirty for