Chapter 90
Mischievous ghosts would occasionally reveal traces of their presence. The male owner had hired many people to look into it—some encountered the “ghost,” some didn’t—but without exception, none of them could find it. Instead, most ended up being pranked.
Jiang Jitang already knew this from the task details. He walked over, pulled out wet wipes, cleaned the table and chair, and only then sat down.
“Can we talk, Page Turtle?”
The sound of flipping book pages stopped. Another kind of adorable chirping echoed out—heard in Jiang Jitang’s ears like a child just learning how to speak, spitting out words one at a time.
“Page?” You know me?
“An old woman told me about you. She said you’re the most knowledgeable among magical beasts—you know everything from the stars above to the land below. You love reading, so you understand more and more.”
Page Turtle loved this praise. Its chirping rose happily.
Not only Jiang Jitang; even the male owner and his daughter could hear its excitement. Not only did this person know its name, he even knew its hobby—this task-taker clearly came prepared. Promising!
“Why aren’t you willing to appear?” Jiang Jitang used its good mood to ask.
“Page page!” They went too far! They sold off the books—those were Freddy’s most treasured collections! I’m punishing those bad guys.
So that was why the magical beast was causing mischief? No wonder—the old priest had never mentioned this type liked pranks.
“They truly are terrible. That man sold the precious books his father left behind and left the child with a pile of debt.” Jiang Jitang stood firmly on Page Turtle’s side, protesting with it.
Magical beasts were like children. They didn’t care about lofty principles—they only wanted someone to stand with them. That alone made you an ally.
Jiang Jitang pointed toward the man at the door. “Look, he’s Freddy’s grandson. He really wants to buy those books back, but he doesn’t have the money. The bad son spent everything.”
The man gripped his cane tightly, overwhelmed. He hadn’t mentioned in the task that his grandfather’s nickname was Freddy—only family knew that. Yet this task-taker somehow knew and could communicate with the magical beast.
“Page.” I recognize him.
“You probably watched him grow up. Now he’s in trouble. That awful son left him with lots of debt, so he has no choice but to give up this house. But—” sensing the magical beast’s rising anger, Jiang Jitang shifted the tone, “the house can be given up, but the memories left by your ancestors cannot. And neither can you. So he asked me to find you and live with you.”
Page Turtle froze, possibly thinking. Jiang Jitang pressed on: “He also asked me to prepare many books for you.”
Flattering words were nothing compared to action.
When Jiang Jitang pulled out ten fully loaded bookshelves and several boxes equally stuffed with books—too many for the room—Page Turtle wasn’t the only one stunned. Even the owner and his daughter were shocked.
Thanks to modern papermaking and printing, books were no longer expensive. But collecting this many different books was still no simple task.
And they weren’t new. Their covers, pages, even the aging paper carried traces of being read.
Knowledge collided with time—creating a wonder all its own.
Some people preferred new books; others liked old ones, as if communicating through time with previous readers. Finding their notes was always a delightful surprise.
Page Turtle was obviously the latter. It could not resist the temptation—so many books, touched by so many hands, imbued with the magic of time.
As the books piled up, filling the room, Page Turtle appeared.
The owner finally saw the “ghost” of the castle—a palm-sized green turtle holding a magnifying glass. Its green skin glowed like jade, its shell plump and smooth like artwork.
“Oh—oh—oh!” Page Turtle crawled up and down the shelves, intoxicated and unable to pull itself away.
“Page?” All these are for me?
“They’re all yours,” Jiang Jitang said with a smile. He approached gently and patted its head. “A house holds many memories, but family is what makes a home. Are you willing to accept a new family?”
Page Turtle followed his gaze and saw the embarrassed man and his flushed-cheeked daughter hiding by the door.
“Dear Page Turtle, would you like to come home with us? Our place isn’t as large or quiet as this castle, but the attic can hold all of these books—and everything that’s yours.” The man stepped forward, nervous, voice trembling.
“Page?” Page Turtle still hesitated.
Jiang Jitang didn’t interrupt. He let them communicate, even though they didn’t speak the same language.
He didn’t know if it was the deceased old woman’s influence or the piles of books, but Page Turtle popped to Jiang Jitang’s side and said it could leave.
But first, it had things hidden in the castle it wanted to return.
The little green turtle tapped its shell. The decorative fireplace opened like a door, revealing a stash of hidden books.
There weren’t many. Several still bore scorch marks—saved by Page Turtle during the fire.
“Page page.”
When it discovered the study burning, it was already too late. The drunk man lay on the floor, nose covered in soot. Trying to light his pipe, he burned himself to death and destroyed the study.
The carpet burned. Most shelves burned. Page Turtle only managed to rescue the few books untouched by the flames.
When Freddy was alive, not even a spark was allowed near the study. Even if he wanted to read at night, he’d bring the book somewhere else. Guests came to see the collection—they handled the books with utmost care.
And yet everything they treasured was destroyed effortlessly by a drunk.
Page Turtle hated him—hated his lack of respect for knowledge. It decided to hide those surviving treasures away.
“I swear, I will protect them as if they were my life.” The man vowed after Jiang Jitang translated Page Turtle’s story, though he had little else to guarantee.
The family’s downfall was not his fault, but its consequences fell on him. Now middle-aged, he clearly understood his own ordinariness. He knew he couldn’t revive past glory. But he still promised—he would protect those books.
“I’m the family’s heir, even if all I inherit is debt. But as long as I live, there will always be a room for these books.” The daughter carried out the rescued books.
“Please live with us. We met when we were young—we played together, didn’t we?”
“Page.” Page Turtle remembered the chubby little girl with rose-colored cheeks.
It appeared in her palm, carefully examining her. “Page.” How did you get so big?
“I went off to study, and work, and deal with annoying people.” She looked at it—memories replaying of a little girl blowing bubbles, rolling on grass, running through forests. Back then she longed for the big city. Now she only wanted to return.
The little green turtle touched her gently—just like it used to when she was small.
She covered her face. A faint choke escaped her.
Just when Jiang Jitang thought Page Turtle might agree to stay, its chubby face hardened with resolve. “Page.”
Jiang Jitang understood—but didn’t.
“Page.” Page Turtle glanced longingly at the books it had saved.
The father and daughter looked at Jiang Jitang for translation.
“It says,” Jiang Jitang paused, “it will leave and start a new journey. It stayed here too long because of an old promise. Now that you’ve come, it can return these things to you, and finally… make up its mind.”
Both father and daughter looked equally desolate, though they forced themselves to smile.
“Is there anything we can do for you?”
“Page.”
Jiang Jitang did not translate. They didn’t know what Page Turtle said—only that it had rejected them again.
“These books were saved by you—take them with you. You’re more suited to be their guardian than we are,” the man said, unable to help himself. The books could ease his financial troubles, but they meant more in Page Turtle’s hands.
“Page.”
“It says these are Freddy’s books. They must be given to Freddy’s true descendants,” Jiang Jitang translated.
Page Turtle saw things more openly than humans. Reading something meant owning it. Whether it was the rescued books or those brought by Jiang Jitang, none could keep a magical beast determined to journey onward.
The man and his daughter could only wish it well.
Jiang Jitang watched quietly. He had imagined a fairy-tale ending: Page Turtle appearing, touched, choosing to live with them, revealing hidden treasures so the family could repay debts and stay.
But life was not a fairy tale.
He remembered what Page Turtle said earlier—what he didn’t translate:
“Human lives are so fleeting.”
Friendships between the long-lived and the short-lived always carried such regrets. Nothing to be done.
Either way, the Ghost of the Castle task was concluded. Since no one wanted the books he brought, Jiang Jitang packed them up again—planning to donate them to a rural school.
He left the fairy-tale-like castle on his little electric scooter, the man and his daughter waving from the door.
From now on, there would be no ghost in the castle. Their debt problems would be resolved. Humans and magical beasts alike had to keep moving forward.
“Yep, that’s how it went. After preparing so many books, none were actually used,” Jiang Jitang said on the phone—today he didn’t bother with texting.
“No idea what promise Page Turtle made with the castle’s first owner that kept it here so long. Leaving now is a kind of release. Humans really are good at using promises to bind others.”
So you never make promises? Parsons asked silently in his heart.
But neither he nor Jiang Jitang would ever discuss confidential matters over the phone—like their past life, or magic. Even though Parsons wanted so badly to ask about the jade bracelet.
This was an instinctive caution—never mentioning extraordinary matters over unsecured communication.
And the only reason Jiang Jitang dared speak about deliveries was because he wasn’t hiding anything.
—
Parsons fiddled with the pink gemstone, thinking of how Jiang Jitang never agreed to promises directly. Skilled at using lies, yet unwilling to deceive in such matters—this too was a kind of kindness.
“Minister Jiang gave the Mystery Seeker organization a special pass. You can join the special-effect food distribution. Mystery Seeker is the only foreign group allowed. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, my long-term provider of emotional value. Come to me again if you need anything.”
Jiang Jitang hung up. Behind him, the ingredients delivered by the food suppliers filled his living room.
Besides ingredients for existing dishes, there were vegetables, tofu puffs, and more. Today, he planned to develop another meal set.
A new meat-divider suddenly appeared. The previous one might be unhappy with the change, but today’s three-star meal set should ease tensions—not because of the food itself but because it was upgradeable—in quality and quantity.
As long as he upgraded fast enough, he could satisfy the endless stream of players and minimize conflicts caused by resource competition.
He pulled out an apron and put it on. For extra professionalism, he added a chef’s hat.
“Morning—develop a new star-level recipe. Afternoon—shooting training. Evening—culture class… Why is my rest day busier than working deliveries?”
