Chapter 30: A Call from My Deceased Grandfather

Just as my mind was in a chaotic tangle, my eyes landed on my bed, where a mobile phone lay quietly.

I stood up with a start and walked toward my bed. I recognized the device before I even touched it. This was the very same iPhone that Ren Yunwen had retrieved from the grave. Before me, this phone had brought about the deaths of both Ren Yunwen and Jin Yuan.

Now, it was here, resting on my bed.

Looking at it, I felt strangely unmoved. The phone was an instrument of malice. Since it had sought me out, I would face it; it was time to avenge Jin Yuan.

I calmed myself and meticulously recalled the contents of "The Art of Ghosts." A "telephone ghost" could be understood as a spirit possessing a mobile device. If one could force the entity to manifest, there would be a way to exorcise it.

However, given my current level of cultivation, that was clearly impossible. The fact that this ghost had managed to kill Jin Yuan right under my nose proved that it was no ordinary specter. While I knew the rituals to make a spirit appear, I lacked the power to destroy it. I needed the help of a master.

I knew only two masters: Old Five Xie and the Old Man by the Lake. The latter was physically frail and could hardly come to my aid. With a heavy heart, I pulled out my own phone and dialed Old Five Xie.

The call connected quickly, and Old Five Xie roared on the other end, "What the hell do you want now, kid?"

I explained the situation regarding the lethal telephone ghost. Old Five Xie let out a sharp, incredulous shout, "I swear, you’re a freak of nature. Most people don’t see a ghost their entire lives, yet you’ve been bumping into them non-stop for months, and they’re all heavy hitters!"

"Cut the nonsense," I snapped. "My life is on the line. I don’t know if I’ll even make it to tomorrow."

"I can help you," Old Five Xie replied, "but I have terms."

When I asked what they were, he said, "Give me one day. You must hold out on your own tonight, no matter what happens. I can only get there tomorrow, and we’ll talk then."

With that, he hung up. I sat on my bed, trembling as cold sweat beaded on my forehead. Honestly, I had no idea if I could survive the night.

According to "The Art of Ghosts," spirits cannot kill directly; they rely on illusions to manipulate the human mind. If I could just stay in control tonight—ignoring every sound and every figure I saw—I might survive.

I turned on the lights and sat silently on my bed. It was destined to be a sleepless night. Li Xiang and Hu Tou asked what was wrong, but I couldn't tell them the truth. I simply told them to go back to sleep and not to worry about me.

Time crawled by after the call with Old Five Xie, and soon it was midnight. The lights in the dormitory had been turned off, so I switched on my rechargeable desk lamp and remained perched on my bed.

I dared not sleep, fearing that if I drifted off, I would unknowingly fall prey to the telephone ghost. As long as I remained awake, it could not get near me.

But man proposes, and heaven disposes. Before long, I felt an overwhelming wave of exhaustion. In my dazed state, I drifted off to sleep.

I had barely been asleep for a moment when the iPhone, brought back by Ren Yunwen from the graveyard, began to ring. I jolted awake, tilting my head to look at the device.

The screen displayed a string of numbers, along with three characters: "Li Guozheng."

Li Guozheng was my grandfather—the madman who had died eighteen years ago. Seeing that name made my skin crawl and a chill run down my spine. Yet, for some reason, I felt a compulsion to answer.

I had never heard my grandfather’s voice, and I desperately wanted to know what it sounded like, even though I knew deep down it wasn't really him.

In the end, I gritted my teeth and resisted the urge. I closed my eyes and covered my ears, refusing to acknowledge the ringing. After a long while, the phone finally fell silent.

Once the room returned to its deathly stillness, I somehow drifted off to sleep again.

But I was suddenly jolted awake by a sound. Someone was calling my name.

"Grandson, is that you? Is it really you?"

I snapped my eyes open and discovered that my hand was holding the iPhone. The call had been answered, and the voice was coming through the receiver. My head began to thrum with a dull, echoing pain.

"You’re not my grandfather. I know you’re the telephone ghost. Get lost!"

"Grandson, how can you speak to your grandfather like that? Eighteen years ago, I left this world for your sake. After all this time, do you no longer recognize me?"

How did it know about what happened eighteen years ago? I felt a surge of doubt. A part of me began to believe the voice—could it truly be my dead grandfather and not some ghost?

"Are... are you really my grandfather?"

"Grandson, why are you so foolish? Of course I am! Do you think your grandfather can be faked?"

"No." I regained my clarity. This ghost relied on the phone to confuse the mind; I must not be deceived. The voice on the other end could not possibly be my grandfather.

"You are not my grandfather. Get out!" I roared, then grabbed the phone and smashed it hard against the floor. It tumbled into the darkness and vanished.

I collapsed onto my bed, gasping for air. I had nearly fallen for it. Suddenly, a surge of bravado flared in me. I glared into the dark room and shouted, "Whatever demons or monsters you are, come at me! I’m not afraid of you!"

With that, I flopped down and went to sleep. Soon, I was drifting off, and the phone did not ring again.

However, while the phone remained silent, another sound began to echo through the dormitory.

Deep in my sleep, I heard a creak. My nerves were so frayed that I instantly opened my eyes. I saw the bathroom door slowly pushing open, and a figure emerged.

I gasped, my entire body shaking. It seemed I had truly enraged the ghost, and it had decided to manifest to deal with me.

I lay on my bed, shrinking back as far as I could. The figure from the bathroom slowly walked toward me.

The room was pitch black, and the figure’s face was equally obscured by shadows.

It reached my bedside and stopped. After a moment, it crouched down, reached out, and pulled back my quilt.

Then, it lay down on my bed.

Right next to me.