The very first thing Qu Xiangxiang did upon waking was to check her pulse. Only when she felt the steady, powerful beat beneath her fingertips did her taut nerves finally ease a little.
Outside, the rain drummed endlessly. She swept her gaze around the room: the hard, narrow wooden bed, the grimy walls, the noisy patter of raindrops striking broken tiles. No doubt about it—this was the Ghost Lantern inn.
Qu Xiangxiang blinked in confusion. She hadn’t even had time to process what had happened at Ancient Wood Grounds before she jolted upright in alarm.
She was here, but what about Mu Hanzhang? Had he abandoned her and left on his own?
Given the string of foolish things the original character had done, and Mu Hanzhang’s notoriously vindictive nature, Qu Xiangxiang had no doubt he was capable of such a thing. What a disaster!
Groaning, she pressed her face into her hands, then hurriedly climbed out of bed and pushed open the door. Peering over the low railing, she saw Mei Niang below, idly fiddling with her severed head as she dozed—likely because the rain had kept most customers away.
“Mei Niang!” Qu Xiangxiang called down from upstairs.
Startled awake, Mei Niang clutched her head and looked up in a fluster. “Oh my, what’s the matter?”
“Mu Hanzhang… the male cultivator who checked in with me—he’s still here, isn’t he?”
“Oh, that little Daoist.” Mei Niang’s eyes lit with mock understanding, and she chuckled slyly. “Young people are always so impatient. Wake up and immediately go looking for their lover. He’s right there, in the room to your left.”
Lover? Qu Xiangxiang had no idea how Mei Niang could say something so terrifying—or how she had possibly concluded they were a pair. From Mu Hanzhang’s ice-cold glare, perhaps?
There were too many absurdities in her words for Qu Xiangxiang to bother correcting. She quickly thanked Mei Niang, then steeled herself and knocked on the door of the room to her left.
*Knock, knock, knock.*
Three polite taps. No answer.
Qu Xiangxiang pouted. She knew Mu Hanzhang’s petty nature—he wouldn’t open the door so easily. She had run into his stubborn refusals more than once before, so she wasn’t in a rush. She kept calling his name, knocking rhythmically on the door. She didn’t want to be annoying, but not seeing him with her own eyes left her uneasy.
Downstairs, Mei Niang rolled her eyes but let her be.
Young couples—being a little bothersome was normal—just part of the fun. Besides, she had already made a tidy profit off Qu Xiangxiang, so a bit of noisy flirting was tolerable.
…
After knocking for quite a while with no response, Qu Xiangxiang’s heart tightened. Could that bastard Mu Hanzhang really have left her behind?
Panicked, she abandoned courtesy, braced herself, and gently pushed the door open. His room was much the same as hers—dark, lit only by half a candle. The faint glow made it hard to tell whether anyone was inside at all.
Qu Xiangxiang crept cautiously into the room, squinting hard until she finally made out a vague figure lying on the wooden bed.
Relieved, she was just about to slip away unnoticed when a sudden, heavy, ragged breathing filled the silence.
Abruptly, something clamped around her waist. Her body lurched backward, and she was slammed down onto the narrow wooden bed.
Her head struck the boards with a loud thud. Furious, she shoved at the figure above her—only to have her wrist seized, her delicate hand pinned harshly beside her face.
“…Mu Hanzhang, what’s wrong with you?”
Something wasn’t right. This was far too strange, she thought.
Mu Hanzhang gripped her pale wrist, bracing himself over her. His phoenix eyes glimmered with a murky, unsettling red. His thick black hair was tied high with a dark blue ribbon, though strands had fallen loose across his damp forehead, beaded with sweat.
The room was too dim for her to see his expression clearly, but their proximity was suffocating. His hot breath struck her face, the heat frighteningly intense.
His face was so close it felt like a violation. Truly the author’s favored son—his features seemed to glow even in the gloom. Qu Xiangxiang’s heart pounded like a drum, each beat hammering against her chest. She swallowed nervously and whispered, “Mu Hanzhang… are you ill?”
He blinked in confusion, then half-closed his eyes and leaned down, as if to see her face more clearly.
Closer, closer—barely a finger’s breadth away. Qu Xiangxiang’s cheeks burned. Her hands pressed helplessly against his shoulders.
What was he trying to do?!
Her trembling fingers clutched at his robe. Her heart thudded wildly. Flushed, she turned her head aside and cried, “Mu Hanzhang, snap out of it!”
From her years of reading novels, she knew—he must have fallen into qi deviation. If he did something reckless now, she would suffer for it, and when he regained his senses, his fury would surely fall on her again.
Qu Xiangxiang: “…”
Even a dog would pity her.
“You’ll regret this when you wake up!” she shouted desperately.
But Mu Hanzhang heard nothing. All he sensed was a familiar fragrance—fresh and elegant, like the first lotus blooming at dawn. He instinctively sought its source.
Qu Xiangxiang struggled, trying to push him away, but he impatiently pinned her knees. His brows furrowed in agitation. Suddenly, he bent down and bit hard into the side of her neck.
Qu Xiangxiang cried out in pain. “Are you a dog?!”
What kind of lunatic just bites people! The sting grew sharper. He still wouldn’t let go. She was certain he had drawn blood.
The salty tang spread across his tongue. The red in his eyes slowly faded, his teeth loosening at last. When he finally saw who he had bitten, his eyes widened in disbelief. For the first time in his life, he felt something like fear. His voice cracked with shock and disgust: “Qu Xiangxiang? Why is it you again!”
Qu Xiangxiang: “…”
Do you even hear yourself?
Taken advantage of, only to be despised—her rage boiled over. For a moment, she truly wanted to drag this bastard down with her.
Her fury drowned out reason. In the dim light, she gave him a sinister smile worthy, then slowly bent her leg—before driving her knee upward with force.
A muffled, strangled cry of pain followed, deeply satisfying.