Chapter 381 - In the Middle of the Night There Was a Ghost
Jiang's father jolted awake, his entire body shivering as he fixed his gaze on the phone that had fallen onto the bed in sheer terror.
anwhile, Jiang's mother was startled awake from her slumber by the commotion.
Both of them stared blankly at the phone.
From the device, Lao Wang's desperate cries for help resonated, accompanied by the piercing screams of a woman.
Jiang's father's face turned ashen, a chill creeping through his heart. Despite his fear, he mustered the courage to pick up the phone and tentatively called out,
“Lao Wang?”
……
Simultaneously, in a small self-built villa on the outskirts of Tianhee City, a middle-aged man clad in a sleeping robe clutched a frad piece of calligraphy.
This man was none other than Lao Wang.
His face etched with terror, he stood in a standoff with a spectral figure in white, her long hair billowing, lurking just outside the window.
The woman in white gazed longingly at a blank canvas on the wall nearby, seemingly desperate to possess it. Yet, upon seeing Lao Wang beneath the painting, her expression turned to one of wariness.
More precisely, she was wary of the calligraphy Lao Wang was holding.
The piece contained only a few dozen characters, but each one seed to pulse with life, like dragons in motion.
As she drew near, the characters would emit a burst of milky white light, scorching her as if she were engulfed in flas, deterring her from coming any closer.
Backed into a corner with panic written all over his face, Lao Wang clung to the calligraphy with one hand while frantically dialing for help with the other.
“Brother Weiping, co quick, there's a ghost!”
“The calligraphy, the one you gave …”
……
Minutes later, the lights in the Jiang family's living room flickered on.
Jiang's father, with Jiang's mother in his arms, her face stricken with fear, sat across from Jiang Hao.
Jiang Hao's gaze was locked onto his father, Jiang Weiping.
“Dad, are you saying Uncle Wang encountered a ghost? And it was my calligraphy that saved him?”
Jiang Hao spoke, his face a mix of astonishnt and skepticism.
In this mont, the worldview he had cultivated over a decade of ordinary life made him reluctant to embrace such a fantastical notion.
Yet, he was acutely aware that the tis had changed; this was no longer the ordinary era of the past. The possibility of ghosts existing was now a real consideration. His calligraphy, penned with the profound energy of Confucian scholarship, was known to possess significant power against malevolent spirits. The whole situation seed to make sense.
Jiang's father appeared sowhat unsettled, but upon hearing Jiang Hao's question, he managed to reply.
“I took your calligraphy that day, intending to have your Uncle Wang fra it,” he began.
“Uncle Wang was quite taken with your work. He offered to fra it for free and asked if he could borrow it for a few days to admire it.”
“I have a good rapport with your Uncle Wang, so I agreed to lend it to him for a week.”
“He phoned in a panic, crying out for help. Then, I heard a woman's agonizing scream.”
“He later told that your calligraphy emitted a white light. Whenever the ghost drew near, the characters would burst into white light, deterring the female ghost from coming any closer.”
“And when he ran out holding the painting, the female ghost vanished!”
Jiang Hao listened to his father's account in silence. anwhile, Jiang's mother peered out with timid eyes, her face filled with anxiety as she posed her question to Jiang Hao.
”Hao Hao, with such unclean entities, it's better to err on the side of caution and believe they exist. Since they seem to fear your calligraphy, why not write a few more pieces to keep around the house?”
Upon hearing this, Jiang's father nodded in agreent.
“Yes, Hao Hao, start writing now!”
Having co from a rural background, Jiang's parents had always harbored a deep respect for the supernatural. They were exceedingly cautious.
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