The Years I Spent Summoning My Senior Brother's Soul

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"Senior Brother, do you remember how our master made us sleep in the same bed when we were children? You always held me from behind, afraid I would stumble and roll off the edge."

"Senior Brother, do you remember when we went boating on the lotus pond as children? I was seven, and you were eleven. We were innocent and inseparable."

"Senior Brother, do you remember when we studied the Dao at Jade Emperor Palace? I dozed off, and you protected me from our master's punishment."

"Senior Brother, do you remember how you stood in front of me when the demons came, taking seventeen or eighteen blows in my place... Senior Brother..."

Shen Ruwang hiccupped, clutching a filthy wine jar and talking to the air.

He laughed and cried, as if somewhere in the unseen world, a ghost with seven souls drifting and three spirits fading might hear him.

Luohong Mountain had disbanded, its gates had burned, its library had been destroyed, the Demon Venerable of Ten Thousand Ages had emerged from seclusion, the Ghost King of Fengdu had wreaked havoc in the mortal world, and the Great Xing Dynasty had changed hands.

But Shen Ruwang didn't care.

He spent his days getting drunk, until one day three years later, in a palace chamber of the prince's residence filled with red candles, he was still babbling away. Sometimes he would dress in the bloodstained women's clothes his martial sisters had left behind, and perform the other man's favorite play, The Return of the Soul.

"The living can die, and the dead can live... But how could you ever remember..."

The hall and pavilion, once so peaceful and still, rippled with change. Suddenly, a voice picked up where he left off.

Wet hair brushed his neck, sending a chill through him.

"Junior Brother, your senior brother remembers it all."

"Oh my god, a ghost!"

Please show some love for my new novel and add it to your reading list:

The Galaxy Is Not as Brilliant as You

'Lucky you in front of the television, if you happen to find a meteorite, keep it safe and you will enjoy a lifetime of good luck.'

Bu Ting had never believed in fate. People joked that among the trainees, he was just a dancing machine.

One day, while out for a walk, he happened to find a meteorite. He never expected that planting a little stone would yield a stunningly handsome man.

Just look at his graceful figure and bewitching eyes, his smile captivating a hundred beauties. His tousled light brown hair framed a pair of pale golden eyes, which held a hint of disdain. His nose was straight and high, like the morning star in the night sky and the blazing sun by day, as poetic and picturesque as a painting.

Anyone would want to share a tender moment with him, and be teased by his flirtatious wit. Yet somehow, he ran into a complete oddball.

Bu Ting: Young hero, I can tell you have exceptional talent. How about becoming a trainee with me?

Mo Qian: ...

Bu Ting: I'll make you beef stir-fried with celery.

Mo Qian: Not enough.

Bu Ting: ?

Mo Qian: What I want to eat is...

By now, Bu Ting had no idea whether the meteorite he carried around would bring him good luck. He only knew that when he put him in his mouth, he was sickeningly sweet.

Completed novels, enjoy: The Smiling Lover, My Female-Dressed Immortal Lord, As I Hear It, Better Than Kissing Me

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