Astrology Hall with Flesh and Blood

Chapter 50

I felt that my respectable parents were here.

The scent, like the fresh fragrance of flowers and grass from my childhood, or the muddy smell of damp soil, made me feel as if I had returned to my carefree childhood in an instant—when the sky was blue, the grass was green, the wind was soft and fragrant, and my parents were by my side.

With my keen sense of smell, I quickly spotted the suspect: a middle-aged man who constantly sped past me in his Volvo. He wasn't as fair-skinned as I'd imagined; his dark, rough skin didn't look like that of a typical businessman—perhaps a testament to the hardships he'd endured. Even in his age, the man's physique was remarkably well-maintained; his belly was only slightly protruding, and there was no sagging fat on his shoulders—could this really be my father? I pinched my arm in embarrassment, my nails digging a deep dent into my plump, white skin that lingered for a long time. Such poor skin elasticity! I cursed myself, thinking that after this was all over, I would definitely have the astrologer grant me one more wish—I want to become more beautiful…

The astrologer helped me find the man's information. He was in his fifties, the owner of a real estate company; his wife was thirty-five, a housewife; they had a daughter and a son, both younger than me. Something seemed off, because the wife—my potential mother—was too young. I don't know my age, but judging from the looseness of her body, I must be over twenty-five, at least twenty. How could a thirty-five-year-old woman possibly be my mother?

But that smell! That lingering smell! It came from that man, I was absolutely certain of that—so I asked the astrologer, "Was his wife his first wife?"

Sure enough, the man had long since divorced his first wife, and his current wife was his third. I thought of his daughter, a girl of seventeen or eighteen. She must have been born to his second wife—because as far as I know, his first wife only had me as her daughter. Even though she lived with her stepmother, she still had her biological father by her side. Compared to me, how fortunate she was!

My envious gaze seemed to have caught her attention, because several times, intentionally or unintentionally, she deliberately turned her head to meet my eyes as I secretly watched her. I was fearless, but she turned deathly pale in an instant, as if she had seen a ghost, her lips trembling and unable to speak. "Get away!" That was the first thing I heard, and I deeply regretted it. I held out my hands to her, really just to let her know that I meant her no harm.

A short-haired boy suddenly appeared from the side and shoved me hard onto the sidewalk. "Don't touch her!" the boy yelled at me in his hoarse, puberty-induced voice, "Get far away from me!"

What a reckless boy! I barely managed to suppress my temper. The pain told me that my face, which had hit the ground, was scraped, and yellow pus was oozing from it. The girl let out a brief scream and hurriedly covered her eyes; the boy, seizing the opportunity, stepped in front of her and patted his thin, bony chest forcefully. "Don't be afraid, sister, I'm here!"

Sister? What a beautiful title. If everything had gone smoothly back then, I should be the one enjoying that title now, right? I couldn't help but look at my young brother with a touch of sadness, my hands involuntarily reaching out to him. At that moment, a look of disgust clearly appeared on his face; he shouted loudly in the girl's ear, "Sister, run! I'm coming right now!"

But he misjudged; I grabbed the hem of his shirt and stared intently into his dark eyes. "Brother, my brother!" he cried out, frantically trying to pry my fingers off; I used all my strength to hold him tighter, but he only tightened his grip—and then there was a crisp "crack."

He ripped off my middle finger, exposing a section of my white joint. My brother actually pulled off my finger!

He froze, clutching my finger, standing there helplessly, as if petrified by Medusa. After what seemed like an eternity, he began to scream, a shrill, eerie scream that continued again and again; he turned and ran, forgetting even to return my finger.

I gazed at his small, retreating figure, my heart filled with sorrow. My parents abandoned me, my sister and brother don't want me, and now even my own body, my fingers, my blood, my flesh, seem to want to abandon me—at this point, who can I still trust?

I was running out of time, so I asked the astrologer to make a quick decision. "Are you really sure about this?" he asked me one last time.

"I swear on my body." I raised my severed middle finger, the constant pain reminding me that I was still alive.

So I stood in front of the man, smiled at him, and said, "Dad."

The man looked up in surprise, and in an instant, doubt, disgust, and disdain crept onto his face. "I don't remember knowing you," he said with difficulty, managing to utter the word "Miss."

“I am your daughter,” I insisted.

He narrowed his eyes, and a disdainful light shone from those deep black holes. "You?" He laughed arrogantly. "You and I don't look alike at all."

“But I’m like your mother, your ex-wife,” I insisted.

A hint of wariness crept into the man's eyes, and his hand slowly moved under the desk—perhaps he was about to call the police? "I do like fair-skinned women as wives," his tone suddenly rose, "but you're nothing but a maggot!"

Ah! Like a bolt from the blue, it was as if I had finally seen my true face. That pale, sunless face, bloated like a swollen zombie, with writhing black shadows peeking out from beneath the bluish-gray skin, as repulsive as maggots feeding on filth—how ugly I was! The maggots that roamed within my body were also dissolving it.

In that instant, I finally understood my true identity.

“I am the child you and Mom didn’t want more than 20 years ago.” I reached out and grabbed my father’s clothes, pressed my swollen face against his forehead, and looked into his panicked eyes. “I am the child who was buried in darkness after your divorce.”

My father struggled desperately, but it was all in vain. I laughed silently, lying on top of him, slowly dissolving with him. The pus and blood gradually settled, seeping through our clothes and into the floor. The stench of rotting flesh surrounded me, a smell that felt strangely familiar and comforting. When we finally merged into one on the ground, I heard hurried footsteps outside, and a woman's screams. I heard the police shouting, "Incredible! This man must have been dead for years!"

Pus and blood rippled slightly on the ground, forming the outline of a smiling lip. Thanks to the astrologer, I found my father. Next, I'll find my mother soon, right? Then, our family can finally be reunited.

Filled with boundless anticipation, I propelled the putrid pus and blood out of the house.

Volume 3: Hell Record - The Ghostly Selection of a Concubine (Part 1)

For a ghoul who loves yogurt, the astrologer had done everything he could to control his appetite. It wasn't to deliberately maintain his figure—the greatest advantage of ghouls is that they don't gain weight no matter how much they eat or drink—but rather for the sake of his meager wallet. He hadn't carried out his long-cherished "ten liters of yogurt a day" plan. Money—I need money—lying in his box, he kept repeating this deadly mantra even in his dreams—alas, business was bad, and life was equally difficult for both humans and ghouls.

This is why he was so obsessed, following those two women. Because he'd craved yogurt last night and drunk a serving today, he was punishing himself by not touching any yogurt all day—but after only thirty minutes outside, his mouth couldn't resist. The "Mengniu" yogurt sign on the street was just too eye-catching; that milky white, smooth, creamy liquid—he imagined how smooth and delicious it would be in his mouth, that sweet and sour aroma so fragrant… The astrologer opened his eyes and found himself standing behind two women, a faint fragrance wafting in the air.

The aroma of yogurt! His skin tightened instantly.

The two women, though of different ages, shared one striking beauty. The younger one, around twenty-something, wore light makeup and had long, flowing black hair. A touch of pink on her lips contrasted beautifully with her fair skin, giving her an elegant and refined appearance. The older one, at first glance, appeared to be only in her early thirties, with a graceful figure and the allure of a mature woman. Only when she smiled did the astrologer notice the deep crow's feet around her eyes. Based on experience, the astrologer knew she was at least forty, but her well-maintained figure and flawless makeup had created this illusion. Both women possessed exceptionally beautiful faces and figures, and their features were remarkably similar, clearly indicating the same blood. At first glance, they seemed like sisters, but upon closer inspection, they appeared to be mother and daughter. And from which of them emanated that delightful, refreshing aroma of yogurt?

The astrologer simply followed behind them.

The mother gave him a reproachful glance, her gaze so tender it stirred his heart. "A beauty is a beauty," he thought. "Perhaps I should expand the age range of my clients." To reciprocate, he politely opened the glass door for them before the waitress could.

Clearly, his attentive behavior caught the attention of the mother and daughter. The mother nodded at him, while the daughter lowered her head shyly and remained silent. The astrologer's handsome face played a decisive role, because the mother immediately smiled at him.

She has a beautiful smile.

I can't imagine what would happen if a sleazy, ugly man tried to meet women this way, but he certainly wouldn't be receiving the treatment an astrologer is enjoying now. His tall stature, pale and melancholic appearance, and noble and elegant demeanor made him extremely popular with women, because that mother actually took the initiative to strike up a conversation with him.

"Excuse me..." she asked with a smile, "Are you also staying at this hotel, sir?"

Unbeknownst to them, the astrologer had followed them into "this" hotel—the city's largest and most luxurious five-star hotel. In the lobby, gleaming under the crystal chandeliers, a gigantic advertising sign hung prominently, its imposing presence immediately apparent. The entire sign featured a background of red roses, exaggeratedly depicting each rose petal adorned with diamond-like dewdrops, dazzling and captivating. Beside it were huge "LOVE" and heart-shaped patterns, surrounding the four large characters in the center: "Marriage Proposal." Several well-dressed staff members sat beside the sign. Needless to say, seeing the orderly yet bustling queue of beautiful women in the lobby, the astrologer understood what was going on.

This isn't the first case of a billionaire seeking a wife in China. Several years ago, many successful, unmarried, or divorced wealthy individuals used various unusual pretexts to advertise for wives. However, their requirements were usually extremely stringent. First, one had to register, provide personal information, photos, and resumes, and then undergo rigorous screening by staff before being interviewed and discussing future life goals. This one is different. Undoubtedly wealthy, yet mysterious, he spent millions advertising on various provincial and municipal television stations, broadcasting the slogan "Nationwide Marriage Proposal." "Ignoring age, height, weight, appearance, education, etc…!" this unconventional billionaire claimed, "and also ignoring being unmarried, divorced, or widowed, as long as you are a normal woman seeking a peaceful haven… call 1234567! Perhaps that's the destiny you've been waiting for!"

The wealthy man emphasized that he only values compatibility in personality; everything else is unimportant! Therefore, he will personally interview every woman who applies, discarding all other external factors in order to choose the best life partner. Needless to say, it's almost as if the wealthy man is about to shout "I'll recruit anyone I want," otherwise it would be almost identical to a certain wildly popular nationwide talent show.

The audition was held in this five-star hotel.

The astrologer quickly understood why the mother and daughter had come. While they were stunningly beautiful, they lacked the clothes, jewelry, skincare products, and anything else that could enhance their beauty. Indeed, their simple yet stylish attire showed considerable effort; it was clear the person dressing them had put in considerable thought, transforming the ordinary into something extraordinary, managing to make even the cheapest finds from small shops look presentable. This was likely the mother's doing; she gazed lovingly at her daughter, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from her temple.

Out of sheer boredom, and also drawn by the yogurt scent emanating from them, the astrologer brazenly stood beside them, like a black guardian statue. Seeing so many scantily clad beauties strolling around in front of him, his mouth watered uncontrollably—good heavens! So many! He could eat them all!

Even a girl who is only 1.5 meters tall wanted to sign up. The staff stared at her for a long time before finally asking her:

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen!" the girl answered crisply, glaring back without any politeness.

She looked to be no more than fourteen years old... Sure enough, the staff member said, "You have to be at least eighteen! Understand?"

"Tch!" the girl spat with an unusually mature air. "Didn't the ad say there was no age limit? What a bunch of f***ing fake teeth!"

Under fourteen? Even if you agree to marriage, the wealthy man will be charged with raping a minor… The astrologer was secretly overjoyed. He even considered making a deal with the young girl: "How about I eat you up in a few years? You'll probably grow up to be a beauty!"

"Yang Lele!" Hearing the name from the staff member's lips, the daughter trembled violently. Her mother patted her arm tenderly, "My dear daughter, don't be afraid." Finally, the mother called out from behind, "Pay close attention!"

Volume 3: Hell Record - The Demon Conquering the Concubine (Part 2)

The girl went in and never came out again. Her mother waited for a long time before finally being ushered into the inner room. The pleasant aroma of yogurt vanished, and the astrologer, feeling utterly bored, left.

After a few hasty days apart, the astrologer had long forgotten about the wealthy man's marriage proposal room. He had just received a generous payment and was preparing to go grocery shopping with Maya. Just then, a woman's voice called out to him from afar.

The familiar scent returned, but this time, her—the mother's—clothing was noticeably more luxurious and opulent. The astrologer stopped, receiving an invitation from her.

At the engagement ceremony, as the mother spoke these words, her charming eyes sparkled with joy.

The wealthy man fell in love at first sight with Yang Lele's daughter, and after several days of getting to know each other, he decided to get married. Today is their engagement day, and Mrs. Yang, as her mother, couldn't wait to share this joyous occasion with the whole world.

"Congratulations." The astrologer removed his hat and offered a polite smile. He had witnessed the beginning of this marriage by chance, and therefore felt obligated to witness its conclusion. Despite Maya's pinching and hitting from his coat pocket, he followed Mrs. Yang without hesitation.

The astrologer followed Yang Tai's car, winding its way through the city. The sky gradually darkened, and thick, bluish-gray clouds gathered, pressing down heavily on their heads. The surrounding scenery grew increasingly desolate and bleak; gray-brown mountains moved slowly across their view, and beyond that, vast stretches of silent plains stretched out before them. The car finally stopped at the entrance of a mountain tunnel. The astrologer politely extended a hand to help Yang Tai out of the car. Yang Tai looked around at the dark hills and nodded in satisfaction. "Not bad, isn't this place?"

She let the astrologer take her arm, and head held high, she walked into the depths of the tunnel. The astrologer only had time to turn around; as he expected, there wasn't a soul in the driver's seat. No, to be precise, the car was gone too.

Only a dilapidated cart stood alone on the ground, looking so out of place.

Contrary to the astrologer's expectations, the tunnel had no lighting; only white candles were lit along the sides. As they moved forward, the candlelight illuminated the faces of those waiting silently behind them. These faces were pale and expressionless, appearing silently from the darkness, looking utterly eerie. This hardly resembled a normal engagement ceremony; even the fearless astrologer found it strange. Therefore, he admired Mrs. Yang's courage even more—Mrs. Yang smiled and nodded to those on either side with a beaming smile, as if they were all guests, and she, as the mother of the bride, was the center of attention—she sincerely greeted them.

The bride-to-be appeared; she wore a long, white, trailing wedding gown, the impeccably tailored silk accentuating her slender figure. She looked stunning, like a fresh, delicate lily, instantly illuminating the dark tunnel. Yet her face was paler than her gown. As Mrs. Yang stepped forward to embrace her, the astrologer noticed that the bride's petite body trembled in her mother's arms.

"Did you see that too?" Amid her mother's approving exclamations, she whispered to herself, "This magnificent banquet hall, these impeccably dressed guests? Why, why can't I see anything?"

The astrologer gazed into her slightly sorrowful eyes and softly replied, "In my eyes, only your face is real."

In the darkness, a giant crown of candles began to light, one by one, from the bottom up, gradually dispelling the boundless gloom. In the candlelight, a man's face gradually emerged, the contours of his lower half being outlined bit by bit.

That was a skull face!

There were no muscles, no blood vessels, not even a trace of skin attached; only bones, pure white and translucent, swayed up and down in the wind, as if driven by the soul dwelling within. The skeleton seemed about to speak, but the poor bride only glanced at it before immediately covering her mouth with her small hand to prevent herself from screaming. Mrs. Yang, however, was not surprised at all, and stepped forward with a smile, saying:

"Son-in-law, is everything ready?"

The skeleton nodded calmly, like a well-commanded general, and with a wave of his bony hand, faint footsteps sounded from behind the candlelight; his men must be busy. The bride gripped her mother's arm tightly, her long fingers digging almost into her skin. "Mom," she whispered, "I have something to tell you... no, something I 'must' tell you!" She emphasized her words.

The mother impatiently pulled her to a "secluded spot," glancing around before speaking, as if afraid of being overheard. "My dear daughter," she said, stroking the hem of the bride's dress, "there's nothing to be afraid of... Once you're engaged, you'll be a phoenix soaring to the heavens! You've jumped over the dragon gate! Leave the rest to your mother!"

"No!" The daughter was almost crying. "Didn't I tell you before? I don't want to be some kind of phoenix! I don't want to marry that...that..." She swallowed the word "person" with difficulty, her expression looking like she had swallowed a fly.

The mother's face immediately hardened. "What nonsense are you spouting, you little brat? The invitations have been sent out, the banquet has been held, and all the guests have arrived—you just cancel it like that? Aren't you trying to embarrass me?"

“Besides,” the mother said, her eyes sparkling with girlish wonder, as if she were filled with envy for her daughter’s good fortune, “the son-in-law is rich and powerful, and so handsome and dashing. Only a fool wouldn’t marry him!”

Even if a bolt from the blue struck her daughter, she probably wouldn't be more shocked than she is now. She covered her exposed breasts and stammered, "Handsome? Him?"

"But he's clearly an old, bald man!" The daughter could no longer contain her emotions, and tears welled up in her darkened eyes. "Even if he's rich, I don't want to spend my life with him! No, I don't want to marry him!"

Before her mother could react, the daughter swiftly removed her veil, threw it to the ground, and ran away, gathering the long train of her dress. No one stopped her—the astrologer meant that, apart from her and her mother, none of the creatures present were human—the mother only had time to call out once before the skeletal groom walked majestically before her.

What happened? This question silently shot out from his empty, dark eye sockets.

The mother smiled obsequiously at him; at that moment, she could only apologize with a smile. Suddenly, the groom wrapped his arms around her still slender waist:

"The wedding cannot be canceled!" he said to his men in the darkness. "This is the real bride!"

Without allowing his mother to object, he carried her to the candlelit altar. In truth, his mother simply couldn't believe her good fortune; she had no objections whatsoever. As she stroked the groom's uneven bones, her eyes were filled with a gentle smile.

"How lucky I am! You're so handsome and so rich!"

The groom opened his jaw wide and made a whimpering sound from deep in his throat, “My dear, after more than twenty years you have finally given me the right evaluation.”

He pulled his mother into his arms with all his might. In that instant, all the candlelight went out, and all the astrologer could see was darkness—a darkness that swallowed everything before him, including the woman's white skin.

"That old woman was originally the groom's lover, but she married another man because she thought he was poor. The humiliated groom committed suicide in anger during their engagement—that's the tumultuous relationship that has entangled them for over twenty years." Maya spilled all the details in one breath, probably after consulting her "ghostly" friend. "But what I don't understand is, why did that old woman call that skeleton a handsome guy? Her daughter has better eyesight."

Money is humanity's most glamorous packaging. The astrologer thought to himself.

Volume 3: The Hellish Record Carrot Rule (Part 1)

One radish, one hole. An irrefutable law.

It wasn't until just now that she felt fear. Like being suddenly pushed off a precipice, her emotions had been in a state of high agitation—or rather… her mind went completely blank, exploding with a "buzz." She swayed as she sat up, the chilly night wind brushing against the back of her neck, causing her to shiver involuntarily, her heart sinking to the bottom. Only now did her soul seem to return to her body, and fear exploded from within her. She wanted to open her mouth, to cry out for help, but her knees trembled uncontrollably, like she had a seizure, unable to support her frail body.

The trembling sensation made her incredibly grateful—grateful that she had survived.

On a hazy afternoon, with sunlight so dreamy it made one want to doze off, two young girls, one roughly dragging the other's twisted hand, arrived at the entrance of the lifelike astrology shop at 666 Frozen Street. The door, as usual, was closed. The girl who took the initiative didn't hesitate, stepping forward and forcefully pounding on the weathered wooden door. The force she exerted was so great that dust from the door began to fall in a flurry.

The door didn't open as she hoped; only a lazy voice came from behind it. It was clear the owner of that voice had no intention of greeting the two guests outside, because her first words were:

"Who are you looking for? My husband isn't home, and I don't know anything else!"

"Where did the astrologer go, Maya?" the girl asked anxiously. "I need to see him urgently, it's extremely important!"

The person addressed as "Mayo" remained silent for a long while before slowly replying:

"May I ask who you are?"

"It's me, Yan Wuyue!" The girl pounded on the wooden door even more frantically, as if she wanted to punch a hole in it so she could speak directly to Maya, who was hidden behind it. "I need to see the astrologer, right now! Immediately!"

The door finally creaked open a crack, and the dim, slanting sunlight lazily bathed the face of a small doll. Her cat-like golden eyes seemed unable to bear the autumn sun's rays. She raised a jade-like hand to her forehead, and then squinted her pretty eyes.

"You look somewhat familiar..." Maya looked him over, but couldn't quite place it. "Could you perhaps be one of your regular clients?"