The Ghost Seeker

Chapter 7: A Preference for Younger Partners?

Xu xiao remained blissfully unaware of the dangerous undercurrents swirling in the mind of his “perfectly pleasant, polite, and emotionally stable” client seated across from him.

He was still stuck on the compliment.

It was the first time someone had looked him in the eye, smiled, and genuinely called him “fascinating.” No sarcasm, no hidden barbs. Xu xiao could tell the difference.

Childhood memories, long buried, surged forward. His sickly constitution meant abysmal school attendance. He rarely managed a perfect attendance month. Constant absences, the ever-present smell of medicine, exclusion from P.E. and recess… he was perpetually the outsider. Compounding it was his sole guardian, Zhang Daoquan – the old man perpetually in sunglasses, running his fortune-telling stall under the overpass, branded a “charlatan” by most. Naturally, the other kindergarten kids kept their distance.

Parents actively warned their children: “Stay away from that weird kid raised by the crazy old man.” Friendship was never an option.

So, Xu xiao learned early. He read books quietly, didn’t roughhouse, was painfully well-behaved. He navigated elementary school under the pitying gaze of teachers.

Elementary school amplified the cruelty. At some point, classmates discovered his notebook filled with strange symbols.

They stole it, passed it around without permission. Someone quickly “decided” they were dark curses, symbols meant to harm.

Xu xiao was labeled “terrifying.” Whispers and stares followed him everywhere.

Then, the rumors snowballed: A classmate got sick? Xu xiao’s doing! A classmate’s family member died? Xu xiao’s fault! Even the principal getting transferred? Blamed on Xu xiao!

The gossip reached the teacher. She confiscated the notebook and summoned Zhang Daoquan, the “problem parent.”

She berated Zhang: Why wasn’t he making Xu xiao focus on academics instead of filling his head with superstitious nonsense?

Zhang examined the notebook and earnestly explained: They were protective wards, symbols for peace. Xu xiao was a good, well-behaved boy who wouldn’t hurt a fly. He rambled about it not being superstition, but cultural heritage with scientific basis, like Yin-Yang representing duality…

They were on completely different wavelengths. Zhang was cut off mid-sentence and kicked out, Xu xiao trailing behind him from detention.

After that, the teacher’s gaze held disdain. Xu xiao realized painfully: They lived in different worlds.

Like a pampered house cat and a street cat. The house cat couldn’t comprehend the street cat’s need to stalk prey when an automatic feeder dispensed food. The street cat couldn’t fathom why the house cat stayed in its cozy bed even with the cage door open, showing no desire for the outside world.

Others were raised with different values. They didn’t need, nor want, to understand something so different.

Self-isolation became his norm, passive then active. Through college, Xu xiao had few friends. None, really.

Human interaction was minimal. His companions were books, especially the occult tomes and talisman designs Zhang hid away, which Xu xiao inevitably sneaked out. This forged his present aloof, detached demeanor.

“…”

Xu xiao snapped back to the present.

Though handling cases in recent years had honed his social skills, even granting him the ability to banter with difficult clients… in some ways, his reactions remained direct, blunt, a world away from smooth operators.

Like bluntly asking Xie Jing if he’d entered his room. Or now…

Xu xiao responded honestly: “Thanks. You’re fascinating too.”

Xie Jing’s hand jerked. The soup dumpling he’d just picked up plopped back into the steamer basket.

By the time Xu xiao finished his porridge, grabbed his gear from his room, and returned, Xie Jing was still frozen in place, barely having moved.

“Xie Jing?” Xu xiao was puzzled. “Need to get ready? Time to head to your place. Deal with the… situation.” Business first.

“…” A few seconds passed before Xie Jing slowly looked up, the word ground out, strained: “Okay.”

Xu xiao looked concerned. “You’re flushed. Allergic reaction?”

“No.” Xie Jing ducked his head, clearing the table with sudden speed. When he looked up, the blush seemed slightly faded. “Maybe… sunburn. I’m fine. Ready in a sec.”

Xu xiao: “?”

Seriously? He looked like a boiled lobster.

…

They headed out around 10 AM. Xu xiao eyed the mansion pin on his phone map – nestled in an upscale gated community on the city outskirts – and pondered transportation logistics.

Wealthy Xie Jing, however, had it covered. The guy who’d tossed out a $100K deposit without blinking had somehow procured a sleek black Lincoln Navigator parked downstairs.

Xu xiao learned upon inquiry: Xie Jing had it delivered last night.

Settled in the passenger seat, Xu xiao studied Xie Jing’s profile as he drove.

Stopped at a red light, Xie Jing felt the gaze and glanced over. “What’s up?”

Xu xiao: “Mind if I ask your age? You seem younger.”

Most of the time, Xie Jing radiated warmth like sunshine, his smile easy. He carried an air of an inexperienced college kid. A stark contrast to Xu xiao’s cynical exhaustion, the aura of a soul-crushed corporate drone who sat so still at his desk he resembled a statue – seemingly slacking off, but actually just… dead inside.

“Me?” Xie Jing faced forward again, his jawline tightening slightly. “How old do you think I am?”

Freshman age…

Xu xiao ventured: “Around 21?”

The light turned green. The car moved. Xie Jing tapped the leather steering wheel twice with his thumb. “According to my ID? Twenty-five.” He’d mentioned last night: no real birthdate, orphaned, ID inaccurate. “But my actual age might be a bit older. Around twenty-six.”

Xu xiao raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t have guessed.”

Xie Jing chuckled softly and fell silent. Quiet settled in the car.

The Navigator cruised smoothly through city streets. Rush hour was over; traffic was light.

With the destination still a drive away, Xu xiao leaned back, drowsy. As his mind fogged, drifting towards sleep, Xie Jing’s voice cut through:

“Xu… do you prefer younger partners?”

Xu xiao lazily opened his eyes. “Why ask?”

Xie Jing kept his eyes on the road, tone casual. “Just curious.”

Xu xiao had so few friends, romantic relationships were uncharted territory. He’d never considered the question.

He gave a vague, politically correct answer: “Probably not.”

Truthfully, older ones either. It felt like a false dilemma. Age didn’t dictate anything. Compatibility, shared lifestyle, aligned values – that mattered. Focusing just on age… was too narrow.

The question chased away Xu xiao’s sleepiness. Closing his eyes was futile. He pulled out his phone and buried himself in drafting yesterday’s incident report.

Twenty minutes later, report sent to Song Lianzhou. Xu xiao glanced at the driver. Xie Jing’s mouth still held a faint upward curve.

Xu xiao: ?

Enjoying driving that much?

…

Xie Jing’s address led to a high-end gated community: Cloudridge Cove. A recent development. A quick online search pulled up the layout. Scenic views, lush landscaping – prime real estate, commute aside.

Scrolling further, Xu xiao found a group photo from the groundbreaking ceremony. A white-haired old man looked familiar. Xu xiao zoomed in.

He paused. Screenshotted the man. Forwarded it to his boss.

[Xu xiao: Remember this guy? HQ sent him for that audit last quarter. Saw our District 3 KPIs were deep red, made you write that 20-page explanation letter for no reason. You almost threw hands.]

[Song Lianzhou: ?]

[Song Lianzhou: If you’re that bored, go count the ceiling tiles. Or lick a light socket.]

[Song Lianzhou: Wait, aren’t you supposed to be ON A CASE??]

[Xu xiao: Am. Client’s driving me to the location now. Doing recon on the Feng Shui layout and history. Saw this dude in the groundbreaking ceremony pic. What’s his deal?]

[Song Lianzhou: Oh, him. Pompous windbag. Self-appointed “Honorary Chairman” of some Podunk County Paranormal Society. Got a seat at HQ ‘cause he’s ancient. Talks a big game, zero substance. All titles, no skills.]

[Song Lianzhou: Maybe knows a thing or two about Feng Shui layouts. Barely.]

Guys at HQ weren’t pushovers, so Song’s vitriol screamed personal grudge. The guy was apparently a mediocre Feng Shui consultant. Combined with the layout Xu xiao saw earlier, the community seemed Feng Shui sound.

[Song Lianzhou: Stop sending his picture! Pisses me off every time!]

[Song Lianzhou: I swear I’m gonna pluck that ridiculous Fu Manchu beard off his face one day!]

Xu xiao looked up from his phone at Xie Jing beside him.

At the last red light, Xu xiao had asked to see the bruises again. Xie Jing had readily rolled up his sleeve. Probably too lazy to roll it down, the sleeve was still up.

The bruises had faded slightly, less angry-looking than yesterday. But unexplained marks like that would freak out a normal person.

Xie Jing, however, remained unnervingly calm, emotionally unflappable.

[Xu xiao: Chill. It’s just a picture. My client here is covered in ghost-induced bruises, calmly driving and making small talk. Meanwhile, you’re having a meltdown over a JPEG.]

[Song Lianzhou: ?]

The ‘typing…’ bubble appeared and disappeared several times.

[Song Lianzhou: Hold up. You sure it’s the GHOST doing the bruising? Not… you know… your client?]

Xu xiao turned again, studying Xie Jing intently.

Xie Jing caught the look this time. He turned his head, eyes crinkling with a warm, harmless smile. “Everything okay? Almost there. Want to pull over?”

The client was doing all the driving. The client was concerned about his comfort. The client had paid $100K upfront without blinking. The client showed his injuries willingly. The client brought breakfast.

He was…

Xu xiao typed with unshakeable conviction.

[Xu xiao: My client is NOT the problem.]

His client was perfectly fine.

[Xu xiao: I’d be the problem before he ever was.] (Implied: The sky would fall before Xie Jing was the issue!)