Master, Don't Pull Me! That Red-Clothed Female Ghost Is My Child Bride

In the eighteenth year of the Republic of China, Zhou Heng has just transmigrated into a six-year-old street urchin when a ghost in a blood-red wedding dress chases him for three miles through a mass grave. Most people would run or beg for mercy, but with three system options flashing before his eyes, he makes the most absurd choice—he jumps up and kisses the female ghost. That single kiss awakens a Pure Yang Dao Body in him and lands him a Ghost King–level child bride. When an old Daoist priest comes with his sword to exorcise the spirit, Zhou Heng shields her behind him and shouts in his squeaky voice, “Master, don’t drag me away! She’s the child bride my father betrothed to me!” From that day on, the rundown mortuary becomes anything but quiet. The gruff old priest mutters about heresy but secretly sets aside the finest incense for his new disciple’s wife; the two-hundred-pound senior brother dives under the altar table whenever she appears but always saves an extra bowl of braised pork for her to smell; the slick second brother takes her along to gamble, and with her subtle cheating, they clean out every table. As their reputation grows, strange and warmhearted specters drift in one after another—a theatre ghost who waited a lifetime for a kindred spirit, a paper-arts shop’s sentient little maid, a water ghost trapped in the river for decades, and a concubine guarding her dowry in an old mansion. Zhou Heng, with his bride by his side, humiliates fake masters, clashes with warlords, and destroys a sinister cult organization. He grows from a toddler into a nationally renowned master of the occult. When asked how he got so strong at such a young age, he glances back at his wife perched on the altar, nibbling a sugar cake while listening to a gramophone, and grins: “You won’t believe it, but all my skills came from spoiling my wife.” Touch me, and I might let it slide. Touch my wife? You’ll have to answer to her slap first.