Volume One, Chapter 17: The Shattered Phantom Mirror

Five minutes passed swiftly. When Elder Sun appeared again, he was accompanied by a young man clutching the Ghost Mirror.

The Ghost Mirror, having just left the laboratory not long ago, returned to its usual place. Wei Hongying also helped Chu Xinghe introduce everyone present.

“This is Professor Chu Xuan, an authority in the field of paranormal studies.”

“This is Captain Li Jianjun, the strongest soldier in the Chinese military.”

“And this is…”

Wei Hongying continued the introductions until she reached Leng Huaping. Before she could speak, Leng Huaping interrupted.

“I... I’ll introduce myself.” Leng Huaping timidly approached Chu Xinghe, head bowed and face flushed. “I’m Leng Huaping. In our past lives, we were the closest... friends, often facing life and death together. Do you... do you remember?”

Chu Xinghe immediately recognized her as the girl who had spoken up for him over the phone. He looked a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I don’t remember anything from before my reincarnation. There are many things I can’t recall.”

“That’s alright, that’s alright. We can be friends again. Is that... okay?” Leng Huaping waved her small hands nervously.

“Of course. Nice to meet you, Miss Leng.” Chu Xinghe sensed her genuine goodwill and saw no reason to refuse.

“Calling me ‘Miss Leng’ feels too formal. Just call me Huaping. That’s what you called me in our past lives.” Leng Huaping tried to appear casual.

“Alright... Huaping?” Chu Xinghe wasn’t new to such requests. Thinking she might truly have been close to his past self, he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

“Mm-hmm~” Leng Huaping made a pleased little sound, her heart as if a honey jar had been overturned. But before she could savor the moment, she caught Wei Hongying’s long, unreadable gaze fixed upon her from behind Chu Xinghe.

Fortunately, Wei Hongying said nothing. Professor Chu then turned to Chu Xinghe to discuss the matter at hand, and Leng Huaping’s momentary trial passed smoothly.

...

Chu Xinghe followed Professor Chu to a spacious underground air-raid shelter, where, about ten meters ahead, an ancient redwood mirror was firmly mounted.

“The fact that the Ghost Mirror has come to you repeatedly means there’s something about you that attracts it. This might be the key to deciphering it,” Professor Chu observed Chu Xinghe, trying to discern something.

“Specifically, what kind of thing?” Chu Xinghe felt uncomfortable under the intense gaze of this burly man.

“I don’t know,” Professor Chu shook his head. “If I knew, why would I still be experimenting?”

“...” Chu Xinghe smirked; that made sense.

“In any case, try facing the Ghost Mirror directly and see what happens. Since the mirror is after you, it will likely reveal some flaw when you take the bait,” Professor Chu stated bluntly.

“That doesn’t sound good at all,” Chu Xinghe couldn’t help but complain. “Are you just using me as bait?”

“Not at all. Even if my guess is wrong, the worst case is your duplicate will come out to kill you. But whether it’s Elder Sun, Li Jianjun, or Leng Huaping, any one of them can single-handedly suppress your duplicate,” Professor Chu explained earnestly.

“Uh...” Chu Xinghe was rendered speechless by the seriousness. He was just making a casual complaint.

Also, I know I’m weak. No need to remind me.

“No worries. Don’t listen to him. You’ll become incredibly strong in the future. When that time comes, even the three of us combined won’t be enough to fight you,” Leng Huaping patted his shoulder and offered timely encouragement.

“Thank you, Huaping.” Chu Xinghe wasn’t sure if he would ever reach the heights of his past life, but encouragement was always heartening.

“No... no need to thank me,” Leng Huaping’s lips curved uncontrollably. Wei Hongying was right; in this short time, he had already said her name twice.

But as expected, she caught Wei Hongying’s lingering gaze again and could only shyly look away.

---

The silent exchange between Leng Huaping and Wei Hongying went unnoticed by others, whose attention fixated on Chu Xinghe as he approached the Ghost Mirror.

Both Elder Sun and Li Jianjun instinctively tensed, ready to unleash their strongest power.

A name summons its shadow.

Though they knew this Chu Xinghe had yet to grow into his full strength, they couldn’t help but sweat nervously. The mightiest wielders of the paranormal understood just how terrifying Chu Xinghe could become.

Leng Huaping’s earlier praise was too generous. If Chu Xinghe truly grew to his future potential, not even the combined strength of the top wielders in all of China could hope to match him.

Under the watchful gazes, Chu Xinghe reached the Ghost Mirror and turned sharply to face it directly, as the mirror was angled sideways to the crowd.

He steeled himself and approached the front—the true face of the mirror—observing the reflection within for the first time.

But disappointment was inevitable. The once clear, smooth surface was now covered by a thin veil of mist, only faintly revealing ripples within, making it impossible to see the true image.

“How’s the situation?” Professor Chu, standing ten meters away, glanced at the monitor showing Chu Xinghe foolishly standing before the mirror, where only a normal reflection appeared.

Everything seemed perfectly normal, but that was precisely the anomaly. Even if a hand suddenly reached out from the mirror to choke Chu Xinghe, it would have seemed more reasonable.

“Can’t see clearly. It’s all fog,” Chu Xinghe replied honestly, eyes glued to the mirror, then called out anxiously, “What should I do now?”

“Fog?” Professor Chu’s face showed deep thought. He had conducted many experiments but never heard “fog” described this way. Clearly, Chu Xinghe’s perspective differed from theirs.

“Wait a bit longer. Report any abnormalities immediately,” Professor Chu said, opting to continue the experiment.

Minutes ticked by, and Chu Xinghe’s eyes grew dry and sore. The Ghost Mirror remained shrouded in mist.

“Should we keep waiting?” Chu Xinghe’s tone grew anxious. He could wait, but how long could Wei Hongying endure?

Professor Chu glanced at the timer. Ten minutes had passed. Continuing might be futile—it was time to be more aggressive.

“Chu Xinghe, use your Ghost Finger power. See if you can pierce through the fog,” Professor Chu instructed. He believed the fog was the key obstacle, seemingly blocking Chu Xinghe’s view of the mirror’s true image.

Chu Xinghe’s Ghost Finger possessed tremendous penetrating power—capable of piercing even S-level paranormal realms—perfect for this situation.

Should he use his supernatural power? After a brief hesitation, Chu Xinghe raised his right hand toward the Ghost Mirror. With a focused thought, his index finger shriveled, black mist curling around it.

He hadn’t just been flirting with Wei Hongying all day; he had also been diligently honing his paranormal skills. While not effortless, he could now wield them with ease.

But would it work? The fog had already concealed even the Ghost Mirror’s power—could his Ghost Finger make a difference?

As expected, a grayish beam shot from his fingertip, striking the mirror surface directly. Yet it vanished without a trace, causing no ripple at all.

“No use,” Chu Xinghe shook his head. The fog absorbed all the energy like a sponge.

Professor Chu was decisive. “Elder Sun, Li Jianjun, Leng Huaping, all of you attack together.”

Elder Sun and Li Jianjun complied immediately—they followed Professor Chu’s orders without hesitation. Leng Huaping had already transformed into her red bridal gown, ready to strike.

Suddenly, the world seemed to shift. A chilling aura pressed down, suffocating the air.

Above Elder Sun’s head appeared a huge gate, reminiscent of an ancient city’s fortress gate. Behind it, something tried to push it open, and blood seeped endlessly through the cracks. No one knew what terrifying entity was imprisoned inside.

Before Chu Xinghe could recover from the shock, a blinding gleam stabbed his eyes. A sword’s radiance—two men tall—stood behind Li Jianjun, its blade embedded in a massive heart.

Astonishingly, the heart still beat. Whether it was his imagination or not, Chu Xinghe seemed to see the giant sword slowly retreating with each heartbeat.

---

Among them, Leng Huaping’s appearance was the most striking. Clad in a blood-red wedding dress, her face as round and pale as a silver plate, eyes like delicate apricot blossoms, lips naturally rosy, and eyebrows verdant without makeup—if one disregarded her corpse-like pallor and the startlingly vivid blush on her cheeks.

“Chu Xinghe, don’t lose focus. Let’s all attack with full force,” Professor Chu’s voice snapped him back from his brief daze.

“All right,” Chu Xinghe replied, calming himself further. He released more control over his Ghost Finger. The black mist that had only enveloped his index finger now spread across his entire palm, forming a nearly solid black light that burst from his fingertip.

Following closely were a ghostly hand as thick as an ancient tree, a blood-red sword gleam, and a blood-stained red silk ribbon.

A terrifying aura filled the entire air-raid shelter. Dust even fell from the sturdy walls. The aftershock alone was horrifying, let alone the Ghost Mirror at the storm’s center.

The four attacks simultaneously struck the mirror. Even the Ghost Mirror trembled violently. For the first time, the mist stirred, and a vague human silhouette began to emerge within the glass.

“It’s working!”

Seeing a breakthrough, they intensified their assault. The gate above Elder Sun was violently forced open by two massive blood-red hands, the towering doors teetering.

The heart behind Li Jianjun throbbed like a drumbeat, and the sword visibly withdrew a considerable distance.

Leng Huaping’s skin gradually turned a leaden white, and faint sounds of festive drums and gongs filled the air.

“Almost there! Just a little more!”

At that moment, Chu Xinghe forgot about Professor Chu and the others outside, forgot about his mission to save Wei Hongying. His mind was consumed with piercing the fog to see that form clearly.

Eyes.

He saw a pair of eyes.

Dead eyes. Hollow and empty, as vast as the entire Pacific Ocean, impossible to fill.

Numb.

Lifeless.

Dead silent.

Even the rotting, stinking eyes of a dead fish in midsummer were more vibrant than these.

Sorrow.

Endless sorrow poured out from those eyes like a tidal wave.

Chu Xinghe was instantly overwhelmed by this profound sadness. His breath, heartbeat, and thoughts all came to a halt.

Just as he was about to completely succumb, a crisp cracking sound echoed in his ear—

The Ghost Mirror—

shattered.