I Got My Cheat Skill by Acting My Way into a Horror Protagonist Role Chapter 62
The red fox, also called the crimson fox, varies by breed and region; generally its fur ranges from tawny to reddish-brown to deep red.
The two red foxes whispering below had reddish-brown fur, but it wasn’t pure—there were many coarse stray hairs, and a faintly murky aura showed through.
A spirit fox that had trained properly and followed the righteous path would have clearer, flawless fur and aura; one glance would tell you it was a spirit devoted to cultivation.
The two foxes that passed in front of Xiao Gui’an had clearly deviated from the right path. They even handled bone refinement and human speech poorly.
Their spiritual awareness was low, so naturally they couldn’t detect the Ghost Bride; they only inexplicably felt the bamboo grove grow a little colder.
Unwilling to linger, they quickened their pace, wagged their tails, and slipped into the grass on the other side.
Only after quite a while did Xiao Gui’an gently drop down from the bamboo branch.
He didn’t know exactly what had happened, but from those few short words the foxes had just said, Xiao Gui’an suspected a conspiracy.
What respectable foxes would use words like “suck,” “keep in captivity,” and “quality”? Separately they meant little, but together they spelled trouble.
The moon had, at some point, begun to hide; the eastern horizon was already faintly brightening. This unbearably long night was finally drawing to a close.
When the time came for the Ghost Bride, who belonged to the yin-ghost domain, to walk in the human world, she would likely be scorched by the high sun.
In daylight, yang energy is pervasive; Xiao Gui’an guessed he’d be directly weakened.
Scanning the bamboo grove in front of him, Xiao Gui’an snapped off a stalk, plucked away the surrounding twigs and leaves, then used ghost qi to split it into multiple thin bamboo strips and wove them into a framework for an umbrella.
He selected a good bamboo stalk for the handle, took down the red veil, enlarged it slightly, turned it into a crimson canopy, and wove in two strands of fox fur.
An occult umbrella capable of blocking sunlight and carrying a mild hallucinatory, confusing effect was complete.
Within the bamboo grove, the Ghost Bride gently lifted the bamboo basket, propped the crimson umbrella over herself, softly shielding her face and body, and silently walked out toward the path.
Five li more—she had to reach the village before the sun rose.
Beyond the mountain, morning would come, and everything would wake up. It was no longer the deep silence of night; Xiao Gui’an could already faintly hear birdsong.
The eastern sky was nearly bright; the sun was wrapped in thin mist and would rise soon.
The morning sun Xiao Gui’an normally loved would now become the weapon that could kill him. Even under the red wedding canopy, he still sensed a burning sensation.
The sun wasn’t fully up yet; he dared not imagine what it would be like later.
He just had to get over this ridge and walk a short stretch of path—then they should arrive.
Xiao Gui’an stood on the ridge, holding the crimson bamboo umbrella, looking down at two villages spread out in the valley below.
Although he didn’t have Yin-Yang Eyes, something felt wrong. At this hour, both villages were eerily dead silent; no roosters crowed.
A few chimneys had smoke rising, but the smoke had a grayish tint and carried an unwholesome, neither-human-nor-ghost demonic aura. When it rose into the air it seemed swallowed by something and quickly vanished.
Indeed, there was a problem.
To go or not to go—that was the question.
He could endure it, but would a Chosen One of Fate be able to?
The Little Heavenly Master was still a child, had severed his five senses, and had concealed his aura. He couldn’t draw spiritual energy from the world. If this continued without food, he might starve to death.
As the old saying goes: since he’d come this far, he might as well proceed.
Xiao Gui’an lowered the umbrella and followed the mountain path trodden by villagers down the slope.
In this era, mountain roads were still enclosed earthen paths, dust billowing; wild vegetables and grasses grew beside the way.
By the time Xiao Gui’an neared the village gate, many households were already active.
Early in the morning, many people squatted by ditches washing up. At the sight of a neighbor carrying an axe, the villagers called out to one another in dialect.
Some carried buckets filled with freshly mixed feed and rotten vegetable leaves, heading for the coops to feed the chickens and ducks, waving and herding the birds to eat.
A faint fragrance of rice porridge drifted out, and from the backrooms came the clatter of iron woks being stirred.
The village seemed to come to life.
Xiao Gui’an drifted through like a silent ghost, moving past tiled houses as he pondered which house would be best to visit.
Then, faintly, he heard the sound of someone reading.
“Our country is a socialist state, implementing…”
Hiding behind a camphor tree by a house, Xiao Gui’an looked up to see a girl with a baby face reciting from a book. Thick glasses perched on her nose; she held a copy of Contemporary Politics (Initial Edition).
Her clothes looked more modern, and there was a stack of other books beside her. The System told him these were university course texts.
So this girl was a rare university student from the mountains.
Nice—
Xiao Gui’an’s eyes brightened. No matter the era, university students were usually easy to interact with.
He’d chosen her—dear university student!
He drifted over quietly.
The girl, Liao Fanghua, engrossed in her reading, did not notice someone approaching. She only felt a sudden chill, as if a shadow had been cast overhead, dimming the light.
She adjusted her glasses and looked up, seeing at her side a woman in a crimson wedding dress holding a bamboo basket and propping a red bamboo umbrella.
The umbrella was tilted low, hiding the Ghost Bride’s true face. Liao Fanghua could only see a pale, slender neck and chin.
“Sister, I’m returning to my natal home to pay respects; I’m a bit tired. The mountain road’s changed quite a bit these last two years… May I rest at your house for a while?”
A slightly hoarse, gentle voice came from the red-clad woman; the tone was extremely soft and drifted away on the breeze.
Liao Fanghua, with her baby face, had never seen such a sight before and sat frozen on her little stool.