STD CH5

Chapter 5: Not Long to Live

“I’ve been finding it strange too!” the girl ghost immediately said, diving into the matter of the aura of death clinging to Lu Wenxi. “By all logic, with this much death aura, you should have died ages ago, yet you’re still alive and kicking.”

The strange part was actually that?

“In your eyes, what’s radiating off me is an aura of death?” Lu Wenxi pressed.

“Right. It’s actually the yang qi of living people. Newborns have weaker yang qi, which is why they can see us; once they grow a little older and their yang qi becomes sufficient, they can’t anymore. Only people suffering from chronic illnesses, or those who are mortally wounded and about to die, carry the kind of death aura you have. Once the death aura thickens to a certain point, you’re straight-up dead.”

“I was completely fine a few days ago. It suddenly changed over the last couple of days?”

“Yeah. Originally, you had Purple-Gold Qi. In this entire world, I’ve barely ever seen anyone with Purple-Gold Qi. So whenever you walked around, you had such an imposing presence—you were so handsome I practically wanted to throw myself in front of you and beg for a hug. But all of a sudden—truly out of nowhere—your Purple-Gold Qi instantly transformed into an aura of death. It was still fairly faint two days ago, and today…” The girl ghost pointed at Lu Wenxi’s body. “You can even see me now, which proves the death aura on you right now is almost on par with us dead folks.”

Earlier, hearing the term “aura of death” over and over and having the youth tell him he didn’t have long to live had merely left Lu Wenxi confused and uneasy. Now, however, his heart dropped with a heavy thud, an ominous premonition growing stronger by the second.

If he had contracted some major terminal illness, or been suddenly ambushed, or something along those lines, he might have been able to accept this claim. Yet right now, he was in peak physical health without a single ailment—aside from watching his diet, there really wasn’t anything wrong with him.

Even if it were due to weight control, that would only cause malnutrition, not imminent death!

“Why would something like this happen?” Lu Wenxi asked, bewildered.

“I don’t know either. I’ve been dead for over a year, and I’ve never seen anything like your case before,” the girl ghost answered.

Lu Wenxi rubbed his brow, forcing himself to stay calm.

How would anyone react if they suddenly received their own death prophecy? Regardless, Lu Wenxi was utterly baffled.

First he ran into a ghost, and now he was informed he was about to die. His brain had instantly turned to mush. Still, realizing their fifteen minutes were almost up, Lu Wenxi spoke up quickly: “Even if you’re already dead, I still have to tell you—being like this isn’t right, you know? I rarely ever visit this apartment. I almost didn’t come back today at all. Wouldn’t you have been trapped inside here for ages? Why are you still chasing stars after dying instead of going to see your parents?”

“Seeing them heartbroken over my passing makes me sad too, so I didn’t want to go back. I just came to find some other entertainment.”

Lu Wenxi had never experienced that kind of feeling. He hesitated for a beat before changing his tune to an apology: “Sorry, my bad. Still, you have to leave my place in a moment.”

“Then could you swipe your keycard and take me down in the elevator? Even for a ghost, walking down the stairs is pretty tiring.”

“You’re already a ghost and you care about that? How come you didn’t find it tiring when you were peeping on me in the shower?”

The girl ghost was rendered completely speechless.

After hesitating a moment, she stood up and walked toward the front door, looking back every few steps. Standing at the doorway, she couldn’t help saying, “Boss, don’t stress yourself out too much. I think you’re way better than the rumors say.”

“The rumors about me cursing, having a bad temper, acting like a diva, and having terrible acting skills are all true.”

“Still, you’re actually pretty cute. Anyway, I really like you.”

“Mm, got it.” Lu Wenxi stood up, walked over to open the front door, and gestured outward. “Bye-bye then.”

“Goodbye, Boss.” Saying this, she hurried over to Lu Wenxi’s side, looking as if she wanted to plant a kiss on his cheek. However, fearing that physical contact with her would make him feel unwell, she held herself back, stepped away, and finally floated out of Lu Wenxi’s apartment.

After closing the door, Lu Wenxi pinched the bridge of his nose, walked over to stand beside the youth, and asked, “Does it hurt when one of your talismans gets slapped onto someone?”

The youth turned his head to look at Lu Wenxi, looking rather surprised. He had assumed Lu Wenxi would be far more concerned about the aura of death on himself, yet his very first question was about this.

“I am unable to answer that.”

“Why?”

“I have never died, nor have I ever had a talisman slapped onto me. Lacking personal experience, I cannot give a truthful answer.”

“Fair enough… though it probably felt pretty awful…” Lu Wenxi felt a pang of guilt. After all, she was his fan and had even protected him, yet he had made her roll around on the floor in agony. The uneasy feeling lingered in his chest and showed plainly on his face, caught clearly by the youth’s eyes.

“Do you know the reason behind all this death aura on me?” Lu Wenxi raised an arm, looking as though he were trying to inspect the death aura himself, though he saw nothing at all.

The youth’s gaze swept over Lu Wenxi’s arm before he answered, “Do you suffer from any major illnesses?”

Lu Wenxi thought carefully for a moment and asked, “Do hemorrhoids count?”

“Anal fissures count.”

“Then no.” After a beat, he hurriedly added, “Don’t go blabbing about this.”

“About what?”

“You know… the hemorrhoids.”

“Would I gain any benefit from spreading that?”

“I wouldn’t know if the media would consider that kind of news juicy enough.”

The atmosphere between the two grew awkward for a brief second.

Lu Wenxi had been gay since birth; he had realized it as soon as he was old enough to understand these things, and he was strictly a bottom.

Initially, he hadn’t panicked or cared much. Growing up in a circle of wealthy second-generation heirs who were fairly open-minded, there were plenty of gay and bisexual people around, with minimal discrimination and high acceptance. He simply hadn’t publicly announced his orientation, nor had he ever been in a relationship.

Mainly, he had tried researching the dating scene and discovered that in reality, bottoms were everywhere while tops were in severe short supply. Many guys who met their true love ended up topping through tears—truly, everyone in the circle was just “sisters.”

He had no desire to enter that scene, terrified of a line of bottoms hitting him up only to discover to their mutual disappointment that he was a bottom too.

A 184-centimeter-tall bottom—slender and long-limbed, yet still sporting pecs, abs, and biceps, with a killer physique…

A bottom… with hemorrhoids…

This was precisely why Lu Wenxi remained single to this day despite possessing such heaven-defying looks.

At that moment, the youth raised a hand, placed his fingers over Lu Wenxi’s wrist, and pressed against his pulse. Startled by the icy touch, Lu Wenxi instinctively tried to pull his hand back, only to have his wrist held firmly in place. Realizing the youth was taking his pulse, he quieted down and kept his arm raised patiently.

Moments later, the youth released Lu Wenxi’s wrist, stepped closer right in front of him, and gently pulled down his lower eyelid.

While the youth examined his eyes, Lu Wenxi stared openly at the youth’s face.

At such close range, he could see that the youth’s skin was indeed remarkably fine, brimming with natural collagen—nothing cosmetic injections could ever replicate. That aloof expression looked very sharp, making Lu Wenxi curious about what this face would look like if it smiled.

Would it be super handsome?

Or super cute?

“Open your mouth,” the youth instructed.

“Are we going to kiss?” Lu Wenxi asked him.

The youth lifted his eyes and glanced at Lu Wenxi. Seemingly neither amused by the joke nor flustered by the flirting, he merely stared coldly for a beat before answering, “Checking your tongue coating.”

“Oh.” Lu Wenxi let out an acknowledgment, opened his mouth, and stuck out his tongue for the youth to inspect.

After a brief glance, the youth signaled that he could close his mouth. “Aside from slight anemia, there is nothing wrong with your physical health.”

“Taoist priests know medicine too?”

“My elders taught me when I was young, and I am currently a student at the University of Traditional Chinese Medicine,” the youth replied.

A little Taoist priest.

A college student.

Lu Wenxi felt those two identities clashed slightly, though his mind wandered to something else entirely: “You must be campus-heartthrob level at your school, right?”

“I do not know,” the youth answered.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty by nominal age.”

“Oh, so nineteen in actual years?”

“No, eighteen.”

“So the kind where nominal age adds two years… You’re a Capricorn, aren’t you?”

The youth stared at Lu Wenxi, hesitated for a moment, and didn’t pick up the conversation.

Lu Wenxi, meanwhile, broke into a grin. Whenever he saw a handsome guy, he tended to lose his reserve. Thankfully the person in front of him was legally an adult, otherwise he would’ve felt guilty.

“Give me your bazi—your birth date and hour,” the youth said, pulling a notebook out of his backpack. Glancing around, he walked into the dining room, placed the notebook on the dining table, took out a calligraphy brush and a bottle of ink, unscrewed the cap, and looked at Lu Wenxi.

Lu Wenxi promptly rattled off his birth details, tacking on at the end, “I’m five full years older than you, and I’m a Scorpio.”

Ignoring the extra commentary, the youth began calculating his fate.

Lu Wenxi didn’t disturb him, simply watching as the youth wielded the brush to write characters he couldn’t comprehend.

Despite wearing no elaborate attire, the youth naturally exuded an air of scholarly refinement the moment he held a brush. Some people were simply born suited for that classical aesthetic, and this youth stood right at the pinnacle of them. For the very first time, Lu Wenxi found the sight of someone holding a calligraphy brush and writing characters utterly captivating.

“I never asked—what’s your name?” Lu Wenxi inquired.

“Xu Chen.”

“Oh, that sounds pretty nice.” Unlike a name like Lu Wenxi, which felt awkward. “Did you calculate anything?”

“Although you are destined to have no children in this life, your overall fortune is prosperous and smooth. In ancient times, someone possessing Purple-Gold Qi would be either an emperor, a general, or a high-ranking noble. By all reason, you should live to a ripe old age and die peacefully in bed, rather than meeting an untimely death.” Xu Chen set down his brush and looked at Lu Wenxi.

Hearing “destined to have no children,” Lu Wenxi’s heart wavered slightly, though he maintained his composure.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“You are generous and unbothered by trivialities, yet overly suspicious and too clever for your own good.” Xu Chen met Lu Wenxi’s gaze candidly, continuing in that same icy tone, “Your eyes are full of mockery when you look at me—just like yesterday.”

Lu Wenxi couldn’t help laughing. He pulled out a chair, sat down across from Xu Chen, and candidly laid out his thoughts: “That’s right. I’ve been suspecting whether you and that ghost teamed up to scam me. First you brought her here and let her into my house, then had her make as much noise as possible so I’d notice, and then you swoop in like a hero saving the… handsome guy, tell me I don’t have long to live, get me to hand over a huge pile of cash, and then ‘resolve’ the crisis for me.”

Hearing this, Xu Chen displayed zero emotional fluctuation, merely beginning to pack up his belongings.

Lu Wenxi watched his movements in silence, keeping a smile on his face and that same teasing glint in his eyes, as though watching a little swindler waiting to flee in defeat.

“Before you die, you will continue seeing ghosts and spirits. Ordinary souls do not harm people, and you stand no chance against genuine evil spirits anyway—so try to relax a bit,” Xu Chen advised after finishing packing and stowing everything back into his bag.

“You’re not going to defend yourself?”

“From your perspective, your theory makes sense, and it is far easier to accept than the news that you do not have long to live.”

“Then can you at least tell me why I suddenly became covered in an aura of death without having a single symptom?”

Xu Chen seemed slightly hesitant. Glancing back at Lu Wenxi, he paused a moment before answering, “Honestly, I cannot be bothered to explain.”

“Huh?!”

“Explaining things to someone who understands nothing always wastes breath—especially when you do not trust me to begin with.”

Xu Chen clearly had his own pride and a touch of aloof integrity. Being stared at with such mocking eyes would irritate any hot-blooded young man. Still, Xu Chen had self-restraint; he didn’t lash out and merely intended to leave, yet Lu Wenxi refused to let him go so easily.

Lu Wenxi had always been acutely aware of his wealth and was genuinely deeply suspicious by nature. Whenever someone approached him or tried to get close, he couldn’t help weighing whether they had ulterior motives. Just yesterday, he had smugly started a livestream trying to piggyback off his notoriety to promote his new song—who knew how badly things would have spiraled if Deng Xuanhan hadn’t died and diverted public attention.

The two stayed locked in a standoff for a beat before Xu Chen adjusted his posture, stood squarely facing Lu Wenxi, and patiently explained: “The world is vast, containing all manner of unorthodox and sinister arts. If someone used your bazi to cast a dark ritual aimed at stealing your fortune, it could reduce you to your current state. If that is the case, look at who among those who know your birth details suddenly experienced a massive surge in luck right as yours plummeted.”

“Stealing fortune?”

“After all, Purple-Gold Qi is envied by many. Those who possess it generally enjoy extraordinary luck.”

Lu Wenxi abruptly recalled everything he had gone through over the past few days—it really was… beyond words.

Plenty of actors had been criticized for poor acting before, yet being torn apart to his current degree was truly unprecedented—rivaling the backlash of an A-list celebrity getting caught in a cheating scandal.

“Is that really how it works?” Lu Wenxi muttered under his breath.

“Furthermore, if someone harbors a grudge against you or your family, they could also tamper with things—for instance, taking a single strand of your hair to perform a ritual that cuts off your lifespan. If the curse targets your entire clan, it will wipe out your bloodline. For the latter, you can check your cousins and siblings of the same generation to see if they are also shrouded in death aura. Line-exterminating curses always begin with the youngest generation; after you die, calamity will befall your elders until the entire family is wiped out.”

“My family has been single-heir for three generations.”

“Then think carefully about who hates you enough to use a method that destroys their own karmic merit just to drive you to your death.”

Lu Wenxi couldn’t help letting out a self-deprecating laugh: “Too many people hate me. If every fan who ever cursed me to go die were dragged out and executed one by one, our country’s population might plummet by over a hundred thousand.”

“You certainly command quite the following.” That hardly sounded like a compliment.

“Isn’t that just how our industry works? With so many eyes on you, however many people hate you is matched by how many people love you. If you don’t even have haters, that means you’re a total flop.”

“Oh. I am finished explaining.” With that, Xu Chen turned on his heel to leave, wasting no more breath and paying no heed to Lu Wenxi’s musings.

Lu Wenxi had been fairly composed up until then, but seeing Xu Chen actually walk away, he suddenly panicked and shouted, “Wait a second!”

Xu Chen ignored him. Having already been insulted like that, it was remarkable enough that a self-respecting youth had stayed behind to explain that much.

Lu Wenxi immediately sprang to his feet and chased after him to the doorway. He reached out to grab Xu Chen’s wrist, only for a sudden gust of wind to surge up and knock his hand away before he could make contact. Staring down at his own hand in astonishment, he looked back up at Xu Chen.

Xu Chen halted too, glancing back over his shoulder. “Is there something else?”

“Is it too late to apologize now?” Lu Wenxi abruptly caved. “I don’t really care about myself, but could you… come with me to check on my parents?”

Lu Wenxi’s attitude softened completely. Already blessed with looks capable of bewitching all living beings, such a pitiful plea genuinely tugged at the heartstrings.

“I have classes tomorrow,” Xu Chen replied.

“Then leave me your contact info. I’ll reach out when you don’t have class.”

“What makes you confident you will live that many days?”

Those words stung Lu Wenxi right where it hurt. Looking into Xu Chen’s eyes, he saw a trace of impatience mixed with pity—as if looking at an object already dead.

That gaze cut far too deep.

“How about you name a price, or state whatever demand you want? As long as it’s within my power, I’ll agree,” Lu Wenxi began trying to negotiate. Having been so aloof earlier, he now spoke without a shred of confidence.

He suddenly felt he had been far too clever for his own good. People capable of communicating with spirits really shouldn’t be provoked; even if they were out to scam money, angering them meant they might genuinely pull some trick to make his family miserable.

Besides, after witnessing that bizarre gust of wind just now, he was gradually starting to wonder whether this youth truly possessed real Taoist skills.

“There is nothing I want,” Xu Chen answered.

“How about this: I’ll give you five hundred thousand yuan. Take a leave of absence from class, and before I die, come with me to check on my parents. Deal?” Lu Wenxi pressed relentlessly, already starting to accept the reality of his impending death.

“Not going.”

“Three million then? I can’t go any higher.”

“Not going.”

“F*ck… what about five million?!”

Seemingly disliking this kind of haggling, Xu Chen turned around to keep walking. Panic-stricken, Lu Wenxi trailed right behind him out into the hallway, yelling, “Don’t go, don’t go! How about twenty million?! Before I die, come by every now and then to chase away the ghosts for me, and come check on my parents while you’re at it—I’ll give you twenty million!”

Xu Chen’s departing footsteps faltered, and he came to a stop, turning his head back toward Lu Wenxi.

Lu Wenxi immediately held his breath, too nervous to even swallow—only to hear Xu Chen ask him:

“Do you need a tax invoice?”

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Author’s notes:

Lu Wenxi: F*ck, where did your aloof integrity go?!
—— A gorgeous shou held back by hemorrhoids, determined to be the mudslide of the shou world.

#TheLittleTaoistCuredMyHemorrhoids# #IGotTogetherWithTheLittleTaoist#