All Walks of Life

Zhang Yuanqing pondered in silence for a long time, ultimately deciding not to expose the existence of the red dancing shoes for now. First, Ou Xiangrong's flight had only just begun, and the Five Elements Alliance had yet to roll out its follow-up operations. As an official organization, they might have other means of tracking that Bewitching Demon. There was no need for a newcomer like him to step in. Second, he was merely a Level 1 Night Wanderer, a novice among Spirit Realm walkers. If he revealed the existence of a rule-based item, it would very likely invite greed and covetous eyes. *Better to wait and see what moves the organization makes, then decide based on how things develop.* Zhang Yuanqing pushed the matter from his mind and gazed out the window at the nocturnal cityscape, waiting to arrive at his destination. Right now, raising his strength was the most pressing priority. Five minutes later, the taxi pulled up at the entrance of Songhai Pulmonary Hospital. After paying the fare, Zhang Yuanqing entered the grounds, heading with clear purpose toward the emergency department building. At this hour, the outpatient clinics were closed for the day. The hospital staff and patients were mainly concentrated in the emergency ward. The emergency lobby was packed. Patients seeking care either sat on the public waiting chairs or bustled back and forth between the billing windows and various examination rooms. Zhang Yuanqing wove through the billing hall and the bustling crowd, finding an empty seat near the restrooms. Sitting down, he stretched out his legs and settled in to wait. To a spirit, the aura of a Night Wanderer was like a firefly in the pitch-black dark—dazzling and unmistakable. There was no need to hunt them down deliberately; they would come knocking on their own. A normal mortal's spirit lingered for only seven days. Unless someone nearby had recently passed away, one would never encounter a wandering spirit seeking him out. That was precisely why hospitals were the prime hunting ground for leveling up. Roughly five minutes later, Zhang Yuanqing spotted an elderly man in a patient gown walking stiffly through the crowd toward him, eyes vacant and dull. The old man's body drifted between the ethereal and the real. Passing patients walked right through him as though he were thin air. Gaunt and withered, with ghastly white pupils, he exuded an aura of agony and remorse. It was a resentful spirit. As a rule, mortals turned into resentful spirits upon death. Truly tranquil, peaceful spirits simply did not exist, for no one ever accepted death willingly. Their lingering attachment to life and terror of death inevitably curdled into a helpless, festering grievance. Seeing the old man step directly before him, Zhang Yuanqing opened his mouth and gently inhaled. The old man's spirit dissipated into wisps of green smoke, trailing gracefully into his mouth. A swelling ache pulsed between his brows as his consciousness abruptly expanded. Zhang Yuanqing read the shattered memories from the old man's life. The man had died of late-stage lung cancer. The final stretch of his life had been a torment of chemotherapy and malignancy combined: coughing blood, losing hair, gasping for breath, agonizing pain... He had not passed peacefully. His last lingering thought had been bitter regret over why he had ever taken up smoking. "I'll never smoke again..." Zhang Yuanqing opened his eyes, blurting out the words with a face full of remorse. The people around him turned to stare in bewilderment. Zhang Yuanqing froze with an expressionless face, pretending nothing had happened to cover his inner embarrassment. Once the bystanders looked away and the churning emotions within him subsided, he opened his attribute panel. A fluorescent blue light screen expanded before him: [Experience: 44.5%] *Zhao Yingjun's spirit was worth two percent, but an ordinary mortal is only worth 0.5. Like the difference between a normal mob and an elite monster? And as my level climbs, the experience yields will probably shrink even further—maybe not even 0.5. Looks like I'll have to accumulate it bit by bit...* Zhang Yuanqing mused. Regardless, this intuitive, visible progress brought a swell of satisfaction. He settled back into his seat, continuing to act as if nothing unusual had occurred. A few minutes later, a middle-aged man dressed like a corporate office worker in a suit walked dully toward him. The surrounding people ignored the man, walking straight through his frame. Zhang Yuanqing followed the same routine, inhaling the man's spirit. As it converted into nourishment for his Night Wanderer power, fragments of memory surged in like a tide. The middle-aged man had died of sheer exhaustion—sudden cardiac arrest brought on by the notorious "996 blessing." He had passed relatively peacefully; sudden death occurred in an instant, leaving no time to even register the agony. Yet reading his memories revealed that his wife had just given birth to their second child, who was still an infant in swaddling clothes. It was precisely to afford milk powder that he had driven himself so relentlessly, pouring his life into the corporate grind. Worse yet, he had been born in the eighties, a generation with few siblings. With him gone, his elderly parents would have no one to rely on. Trading one's life for money, only for everything to lose all meaning in the end. As his consciousness returned, Zhang Yuanqing felt a piercing, bone-deep sorrow and emptiness. *What was the point of a life like that?* He sat dazed, his face devoid of expression for a long time. Just then, a third spirit approached. It was a woman with gorgeous features, microbladed semi-permanent eyebrows, and clothes that radiated luxury and exquisite taste. A bona fide high-quality woman. *To die so young and beautiful... what a waste, what a shame...* As she drew nearer, Zhang Yuanqing noticed her chest was caved in, her slim black dress drenched in illusory blood. The back of her skull had clearly suffered unimaginable trauma as well, blood matting her hair into sticky strands. She wasn't wearing a hospital gown, which meant she hadn't died while admitted—it was an accident or a homicide. Zhang Yuanqing gently inhaled, devouring the high-quality woman's spirit. A swell pulsed between his brows as memories alien to his own flooded his consciousness. His vision went dark. A moment later, he looked down upon a pair of long, pale, slender legs perched on the edge of a bed, slowly rolling black sheer stockings up over smooth thighs. *Oh, so that's how women put on stockings...* Zhang Yuanqing, who had been single for all twenty years of his life, gained a whole new realm of knowledge. Just then, a man's raspy, smoky voice sounded from behind: "Don't message me at night from now on. My wife almost caught it yesterday." Zhang Yuanqing's heart skipped a beat. A man, a bed, rolling on stockings... anyone could guess what had just transpired. *I really shouldn't be devouring female spirits so casually—this is so wrong!* He felt immensely relieved deep down. *Thank goodness the memory started from putting on stockings. If it had been pushed back a few minutes, I might've been lying flat, or even on my knees...* *Phew, no strange taste in my mouth either. Lucky, so lucky...* Just as the thought crossed his mind, he heard the woman he was "possessing" scoff: "Isn't that perfect? Divorcing her and marrying me." Behind her came the rustle of the man getting dressed, followed by a derisive laugh. "I have a son and a daughter, and we're planning for a third next year. Why would I divorce her for you? Besides, a divorce means splitting half my fortune. "Didn't we agree on this from the start? You're the mistress, I pay the bills. Once you've saved up enough, you can marry whoever you want—even settle down with an honest chump for all I care. If you ever want to end things, just say the word. But don't go entertaining ideas you shouldn't have." The woman seemed furious, not saying another word. Once the man left, she sped through the streets in her little BMW to blow off steam. In the end, she crashed, dying despite resuscitation efforts. The vision ended. Zhang Yuanqing opened his eyes and rubbed his throbbing forehead, feeling a surge of righteous indignity. *Sister, was it really worth it? High-end seafood vendors only need the simplest auctions; there's a market everywhere! Why get so worked up over one guy? How many men are any good anyway?* *Besides, marrying an honest chump? Never. Not in this lifetime!* Mid-thought, he suddenly froze. *Wait, what's wrong with me?* *Why am I empathizing with a woman so intensely? I wield a spear myself!* A few seconds later, Zhang Yuanqing realized what had happened: he had been unconsciously influenced by the high-quality woman. His thoughts had leaned feminine, and a fierce craving for money and material luxury had welled up deep in his heart. Even his earlier blurted pledge to "never smoke again" had been the lingering influence of that old man's spirit. Once he managed to steady his mind, a fourth spirit drifted over. This was a slender, handsome young man who instantly brought to mind labels like "pretty-boy puppy." *Not bad-looking—almost on par with me. Better stick to male spirits; it's much safer. Even if things go that far, at least I'd be the one on top.* He opened his mouth and drew the puppy-boy spirit into his stomach. A piercing wall of noise rattled his eardrums. Full-color rotating LED fixtures flashed overhead, splashing dizzying light pollution across the room. As far as the eye could see, swaying bodies and bobbing heads filled the space, the air thick with the acrid stench of cigarette smoke. It was a nightclub. Zhang Yuanqing felt his body sway out of his control. He seized a glass from the booth table and knocked back drinks with the friends beside him. Amid the hearty release of pent-up emotion, within the hollow joy woven of liquor and dice games, the puppy-boy and his friend didn't call it a night until two in the morning. The two hailed a ride back to their rented apartment. His burly friend supported him by the arm, helping him unlock the bedroom door. Though Zhang Yuanqing couldn't control the body, his mind remained lucid. He could sense that the person he inhabited was dead drunk, blood vessels in the brain throbbing violently. He guessed the young man had died of acute alcohol poisoning, or perhaps sudden heart failure? While he was still guessing, the puppy-boy was dumped onto the bed. His friend helped him take off his shoes, stripped off his trousers, pulled the duvet over him, and used a wet wipe to clean the sweat from his face. *Now this is a solid bro...* Zhang Yuanqing thought. The thought had barely formed when he saw the friend begin stripping off his own clothes. Then the friend pulled back the duvet and swiftly stripped the puppy-boy bare. Zhang Yuanqing blinked, feeling that something was very, very wrong. Just then, he heard the puppy-boy mumble drunkenly: "Hubby~" The "friend" pressed down on the young man's bare body, brandishing a tub of Vaseline in his hand. Stinking of liquor, he rasped: "Stick your ass up, let me grease you up!" ??? A deafening *boom* went off in Zhang Yuanqing's head, as if he had been struck by five simultaneous bolts of heavenly thunder. *No! No! NO! Put that away!* *You can't do this! You CANNOT do this!!* In a state of sheer terror and utter panic, Zhang Yuanqing forcibly severed the memory stream. Back on the seat near the restrooms in the emergency building, Zhang Yuanqing snapped his eyes open. Panting violently as though starved of oxygen, he felt as if he had just escaped a waking nightmare. His face was pale, his eyes wide with horror, and cold sweat thoroughly drenched his back. "Young man, are you all right?" a middle-aged woman sitting nearby asked with concern. "Have you registered yet? Where does it hurt?" Zhang Yuanqing waved a hand to signal he was fine, then bolted straight into the restroom. Turning on the faucet, he splashed handful after handful of freezing cold water over his face. Too terrifying! Men were far too terrifying! He had just suffered trauma no person of his gender should ever have to bear.