But as Nong Yue moved her left hand, which had been obscuring part of the screen, away – she was tall with large hands and long fingers, and when gripping the phone from the back, her thumb and index and middle fingers would bend to the front, covering a portion of the screen. Just now, it had happened to be on either side of the article's title. Only when she switched to holding the phone one-handed did I manage to read the entire title of the article – “How Homemakers Can Cook Better-Tasting Cantonese Food.”
“You like Cantonese food?” I asked, shaking water off my hands and squatting beside her. Here in the Northeast, both men and women like to squat. They do it in winter and summer. Even girls wearing skirts will pull the hem of their skirts forward, tuck it between their legs, and squat down, covering themselves securely without exposing themselves. Alas, there’s no trust between people. When I first arrived in Fucheng, the weather was still warm, and there were many young ladies in skirts squatting on the road, which was quite bothersome for me.
“I want to try everything,” Nong Yue said without looking back, clicked on the link, read for a while, and then closed it. “Damn, it’s bland and watery, without even seasoning. How could it be tasty?”
“Cantonese cuisine emphasizes the freshness of ingredients and cooking techniques, I think,” I said, having heard something like that before.
Nong Yue glanced at me. “Can you cook?”
“…A little,” I replied modestly, afraid she might assign me to work in the kitchens of Mohe.
“Can you make oil-splashed noodles? That’s my favorite! Served with two cloves of garlic smashed into paste, it’s so fragrant!” Nong Yue chatted with me calmly, like a little sister from next door.
“I can, I’ll show you sometime,” I took out my cigarettes and nudged out two. “Do you smoke?”
“No, you go ahead.”
I lit a cigarette and noticed her gaze sweep towards my waist. I knew she had already done a thorough investigation of my intelligence, so I didn’t hide anything. I lifted the hem of my shirt, pulled out the “Soul-Capturing Token,” and handed it directly to her. I was a prisoner of war, and this thing should be considered spoils of war, right?
Nong Yue seemed to have never seen a Soul-Capturing Token before. She played with it back and forth for a while, then brought it to her nose and sniffed. “What’s this smell?”
“I don’t know, sandalwood?”
Nong Yue shook her head. “No, it smells like some kind of… bone. Is it made from a skull?”
How would I know? I wore it anyway. Nong Yue then looked at the button on the back, touched it. Just as I was about to warn her not to press it, she was too quick and pressed it down.
“Hey, don’t press it!”
“Hello, who are you looking for?” It was a female operator whose voice I recognized.
“Uh, never mind, I pressed it by accident. Sorry,” I quickly said.
“What? This thing can make calls?” Nong Yue asked curiously. “Did you use this to summon two hundred Yin soldiers?”
“Hmm? Master Wu, who is speaking?” the female operator asked.
My mind raced, spinning so fast I felt seasick. When I was on Juhua Mountain, I hadn’t thought of using the power of the Underworld for help, because I thought the human forces plus the demons would be enough. I didn’t expect to be instantly defeated by Nong Yue’s ‘Buddha’s Palm’ strike. If I had known she was so powerful, how many Xie Bi’an and Ma Jiaojiao could I have summoned? Didn’t they say that no matter how powerful a master in the human world is, they are afraid of ghosts!
It’s never too late to mend. I hesitated no longer and decisively changed my words: “Hello, please connect me to my friend, Ms. Xie.”
I deliberately didn’t mention “Seventh Master” or “Xie Bi’an,” for fear that Nong Yue would recognize who it was and hang up the “phone.”
This Underworld female operator knew me, so she could naturally guess who “my friend Ms. Xie” was.
As expected.
“Okay, please wait.”
A short while later, Xie Bi’an answered, his voice languid. “Why are you looking for me in broad daylight?”
Do ghost envoys also need to sleep?
“No reason, I just miss you, An’an, wanted to chat,” I said teasingly, like an old friend, glancing at Nong Yue. She seemed not to be suspicious and was listening to my call with great interest.
“…Such a smooth talker,” Xie Bi’an’s tone changed. Perhaps he had never been flirted with before, and this was his first time, making him a bit uncomfortable. “Hurry up and tell me, why are you looking for me!”