Chapter Seventeen: The Ghost’s Guidance (Extra Chapter for “My Father Has Arrived”)

“Professor Wang, isn’t this price far too high?” After the call ended, someone finally spoke up, and without exception, every attendee felt their heart bleed.

No one understood the importance of the Ghost Candles better than they did. Due to the extreme difficulty in crafting and the rarity of materials, these supernatural items, perfected just last month, were entirely owned by Professor Wang. Despite all their efforts, they could not obtain any. Fang Shiming from the circle of acquaintances had even privately approached Professor Wang to negotiate a deal, only to be rejected.

Two Ghost Candles! An astronomical price!

Wang Xiaoming didn’t even lift his head. His sharp mind was rapidly piecing together the information from the call, trying to discern something.

“The right person paired with the right price — that’s fair. Handing the Ghost Candles to him maximizes their practical value and best addresses the incidents. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Even if this deal hadn’t happened, I would have eventually given him the Ghost Candles.”

Everyone understood the implication: no matter how precious a resource is, it needs someone capable to wield it.

The difference lies in whether you are qualified.

The reason headquarters had failed to obtain them despite repeated attempts was that Wang Xiaoming believed they weren’t yet worthy. Using the Ghost Candles in their hands would be no different than wasting them.

Some felt resentment in their hearts but dared not speak up, only sighing inwardly.

Wang Xiaoming never cared about their thoughts. Schemes, intrigues, and political games were of no concern to him.

Do you consider the thoughts of monkeys? No, you don’t.

His rapidly turning mind seemed to reach a conclusion, and the expression, usually mechanical and cold, softened into a slight smile, as if he had gained something significant.

“Is there any progress on the Huanggang Village case?”

Zhao Jianguo pushed through the crowd and hurriedly responded.

“The first team has already fallen. That coffin is very strange. We’re preparing a second team.”

Wang Xiaoming nodded. Most of the time, he cared only about the results; the process was irrelevant. This was the wise approach when dealing with the supernatural.

The peculiar nature of that coffin and the potential gains after securing it were worth the cost.

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Headquarters acted as swiftly as ever. Early the next morning, everything Shen Lin requested was fully equipped. Along with the supplies came a finely made police uniform and a handgun fashioned from gold.

Shen Lin carefully hung the uniform in the wardrobe, a sign of his attitude toward headquarters.

All other items were placed inside a peculiar box. The materials used were rare, and despite his effort, Shen Lin could not damage the box in the slightest. It was likely another piece of high-tech that Wang Xiaoming had acquired.

Inside the box were several items: a high-end laptop, a compact satellite phone, a bank card, and a small folding box made of gold.

True to its reputation for cutting-edge research, headquarters had truly mastered the art of working with gold.

Though the golden folding box was no larger than half a fist, the moment a switch was pressed, the sphere rapidly expanded into a sealed container — far more convenient and portable than the golden coffin.

Of course, compared to the two items in the center, these were trivial.

Blood-red candles. Their eerie color was unlike anything earthly. Rather than being some strange oil-based concoction, it seemed as if they were forged from fresh blood.

Ghost Candles! Crafted by the genius Professor Wang Xiaoming, who had ventured into the supernatural and through countless experiments created these artifacts. Once lit, they could block evil spirits with absolute certainty.

Priceless!

Even in the original text, Ghost Candles played a significant role in S-level ghost incidents. They would be one of Shen Lin’s greatest guarantees as he navigated this world—something he understood very clearly.

After arranging everything carefully, Shen Lin even took the time to package the candles snugly for safety.

Besides these essentials, there was a message displayed on the satellite phone.

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A URL and a string of passwords.

Shen Lin opened the laptop and logged into the site. It appeared to be a plain farming website, with an outdated design and a strong sense of past decades. The content primarily dealt with farming techniques and distinctions among seed types.

In today’s modern age, almost no one would find such a page interesting.

A clever disguise. The research team at headquarters was not limited to Wang Xiaoming alone; backed by official and global resources, their reserves—both material and human—were top-notch.

Following the code on the phone, Shen Lin entered it meticulously. Once completed, the page redirected to a sophisticated, modern website.

It was a forum-style platform focused on exchanging information about ghosts, posting urgent incidents from various locations, and recruiting ghost hunters.

The bounties were enticing—tens of millions were commonplace here.

The first thing to catch Shen Lin’s eye was a peculiar ghost case.

The poster called it “Ghost Guide,” accompanied by a chilling photo.

It depicted a crossroads, at the very center stood a figure resembling a scarecrow.

Its lower half was an ordinary bamboo pole, but the upper half was a shriveled old man, as if the pole had been forced through his body—an unsettling sight.

The old man’s hands, cracked and calloused, were spread wide like a scarecrow’s arms, and his half-smiling, half-grimacing face exuded an indescribable terror.

Below was a video that Shen Lin carefully clicked on.

The footage seemed to be from surveillance, the quality poor.

It showed two young people walking home at midnight, encountering the Ghost Guide.

Upon their arrival, the old man retracted one of his arms, leaving only his right arm pointing in a certain direction, his smile widening.

Shen Lin was struck—this must be the meaning of being “guided.”

When the Ghost Guide encounters you, it points you in a direction, creating two possibilities:

One, you don’t go.

Two, you go.

Obviously, the two young people were frightened. Without looking back, they fled in the direction they came, choosing not to follow the guidance.

Meanwhile, the upper half of the bamboo figure opened its mouth wide, and soon after, the two could be heard screaming. The video cut off abruptly.

A second video showed a drunken middle-aged man.

In his drunken stupor, he even vomited on the Ghost Guide, which made everyone’s hearts race.

The Ghost Guide’s right hand dropped, leaving the left hand to point the way.

The man staggered upright, patted the old man’s shoulder as if to say thanks, then clumsily walked toward the indicated direction.

Following that was the sound of a car crash. The video ended with photos of the accident scene, confirming the man’s death.

Comments below discussed the case.

“Clearly, this ghost’s danger level isn’t very high—probably a C-level—but its terror factor is debatable.”

Shen Lin nodded in agreement. After supernatural events, the World Organization classified ghost incidents into tiers:

C, B, A, S.

C-level was “restricted,” referring to ghosts confined to a single area with limited harm and no contagion.

B-level was “dangerous,” capable of roaming and causing considerable danger with some spread.

A-level was “disastrous,” capable of killing a city’s population over time if unchecked, extremely terrifying, currently unsolvable, with significant spread.

S-level was “catastrophic,” able to destroy multiple cities or even a nation.

The danger levels indicated the degree and scope of damage a ghost could inflict on society.

It was important to note that danger level did not always match terror level.

A C-level ghost might have a small range but terrify an entire ghost-hunting team.

The most iconic example was the tall male corpse haunting a hotel in the original story. Though confined to the hotel, his terror was suffocating, even for Yang Jian.

The Ghost Guide’s range was small and its characteristics clear.

Most commenters believed the direction it pointed contained dangers that could harm or even kill those guided.

Ignoring the direction would trigger the ghost’s lethal rules.

This ghost was highly terrifying; several ghost-hunting squads had vanished without a trace.

This chilled Shen Lin. It seemed the world’s seal had been lifted, and all manner of bizarre things were emerging.

Interestingly, the site ranked the known ghosts.

At the top was “Ghost Call.”

Its trait: when the phone rings, a pattern is triggered automatically, regardless of whether the victim can hear it or even has a phone nearby. It kills indiscriminately worldwide, has no physical form, and operates like a curse of cause and effect. Currently unsolvable, but kills only one person per call. Danger level was B.

This reminded Shen Lin of the old pendulum phone in Anhe Community.

He had initially thought it was a Ghost Call, but now it seemed slightly different. That old phone matched some traits:

The ringing triggered the effect, ringing regardless of nearby phones.

But it wasn’t just ringing that triggered the curse—it had a physical presence and could make multiple calls at once.

Shen Lin frowned. What did this mean? Was the old phone part of the Ghost Call puzzle?

The ring and the phone were separated, each with defects.

If the Ghost Call and the phone united, the one-kill-per-call rule could be overridden, potentially causing every phone on Earth to ring simultaneously.

Just the thought was terrifying.

“Ring, ring, ring~”

The ringing of his phone jolted Shen Lin from his thoughts. He picked up and saw it was Li Meng, somewhat annoyed.

“Are you trying to die? Calling at a time like this.”

But Li Meng sounded excited.

“Lin’er, the job’s here! Bro’s got you a chance to make some money!”