The Prince Jin’s residence was adorned with red silk for the grand wedding, brimming with joyous atmosphere.
Suddenly, a piercing, shrill female voice tore through the sky, but the passing servants merely lowered their heads, pretending not to hear.
In the main chamber, a woman clad in bright red wedding robes was being tightly strangled by a white silk cord. She tugged desperately, but could only emit hoarse, choked sobs.
“Let go… Prince Jin, save… save me…”
The voice squeezed from Lin Qingyue’s throat was broken and helpless.
Her red wedding dress was soaked with blood, and the exposed skin was torn and mangled, a horrifying sight.
At this moment, she desperately wished Prince Jin—her newlywed husband—would appear and rescue her from this peril.
“Hah! At death’s door, you still dare call for my brother?” Qing An Junzhu, who had been elegantly eating pastries nearby, sneered and leaned in closer.
Her clear, melodious voice was laced with venom: “On your wedding night, he’d rather visit the Marquis’s residence to comfort your dear sister than touch your filthy body!”
“Your entire family is also busy comforting your sister. Even if you die, no one will spare a single thought for you.”
Lin Qingyue’s pupils contracted violently. Her hands flailed weakly in the air before going limp, but her phoenix eyes remained wide open, streaming tears of blood.
It was the Marquis’s household who had brought her to the capital, claiming she was their biological daughter, yet they constantly scorned and belittled her!
That day she risked her life to save Dongfang Yan, he too had promised to protect and repay her forever—yet in the end, this was how they all treated her!
She hated them!
The woman on the floor ceased moving. A maidservant stepped forward to check her breath and turned pale: “Junzhu, the Princess Consort… she has no breath. Wh-what should we do?”
Despite having killed someone with her own hands, Qing An Junzhu showed no panic. Instead, she curled her lips into a smile.
“Go find a beggar from the streets. When my brother returns, we’ll say she was promiscuous—meeting with another man on her wedding night. When I discovered them, she was so ashamed she hanged herself! After all, she’s already notorious. Even her own family dislikes her. No one will bother investigating another crime added to her name!”
“Yes, Junzhu!” Chunmei immediately went to carry out the order.
Just as Qing An Junzhu was about to call for someone to hang Lin Qingyue’s body from the beam, a sudden eerie wind swept through, slamming the door shut with a bang.
The remaining candle in the room extinguished, plunging the chamber into instant darkness.
From behind came rustling sounds—the shifting of fabric—as if someone was slowly rising from the floor.
They said that if the dead carried unresolved resentment, their souls would return for revenge.
Could that wretched Lin Qingyue have transformed into a ghost so quickly…?
Qing An Junzhu felt her scalp prickle with fear. She tried to flee through the door, but the damned thing seemed welded shut, refusing to open no matter how hard she pulled.
“Someone, help!” Her usually arrogant voice now trembled with panic.
No one responded.
Earlier, to teach Lin Qingyue a lesson, she had deliberately dismissed the guards. The only trusted maid she kept by her side had just been sent away on her errand.
Moonlight filtered through the gossamer window screens, casting a clear glow into the originally pitch-black bridal chamber.
But Qing An Junzhu grew even more terrified, for from the corner of her eye she saw a slender shadow rise—creeping over her like a water snake.
The door rattled violently as she shook it, but remained firmly locked.
“Hel…p! A… ghost!” Her voice quivered uncontrollably under overwhelming terror.
“Heh heh…” Two mocking laughs suddenly echoed in the darkness.
“You weren’t panicked when killing someone earlier, so why are you scared now?”
It was Lin Qingyue’s voice, her lazy tone carrying a murderous intent, unlike her usual gentle softness.
“I… I just wanted to teach you a lesson! Who told you to overestimate yourself and covet my brother!”
Mentioning “brother” inexplicably gave Qing An Junzhu some courage as she shouted, “You country bumpkin! Crude and vulgar! You’re completely unworthy of my brother! Whether you’re human or ghost, I won’t allow you to become Jin Wang’s consort!”
“Daring to make noise before this venerable one – seeking death!”
The voice behind her suddenly turned cold, killing intent manifesting.
Before Qing An Junzhu could process why the woman suddenly referred to herself as “this venerable one,” a powerful force grabbed her by the nape and lifted her up.
She had no time to scream before being thrown out, crashing onto a table along with teacups that shattered on the floor. The cacophony was particularly pleasing to hear in the silent night.
In the darkness, Lin Qingyue examined her hand and sighed, “Has my power weakened this much?”
In the past, a single palm strike from her could collapse a thousand peaks; a flick of her finger would leave corpses strewn across battlefields.
Who in the World of Cultivation didn’t fear her, Immortal Lord Qingyue?
But now…
She surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings, quickly digesting the foreign memories flooding her mind, and understood everything.
She, the number one female demon lord of the cultivation world, Immortal Lord Qingyue, had transmigrated!
And had become… an unlucky wretch.
The original host had been unfortunate since childhood – swapped at birth, subjected to long-term abuse, covered in wounds.
Finally returning to the Marquis estate, before even meeting her biological parents, she was framed for pushing the fake heiress into water.
To please her birth mother, she carefully prepared soup, only for someone to discover poison in it. From then on, her birth mother refused to get close to her.
To clear her reputation of being crude and unskilled in arts, she secretly practiced qin skills day and night for over six months, hoping to perform at the flower appreciation banquet.
But after playing just one note, the strings snapped, the chair collapsed, and she fell embarrassingly from the stage, becoming the laughingstock of the entire capital.
The Jin Wang she saved at the risk of her life during a snowstorm remained devoted to the fake heiress, even falsely accusing her of stealing credit.
Incident after incident left her burdened with the reputation of being unfilial, unkind, and bullying her sister.
Everyone said the Marquis estate had two daughters – one a rare pearl, the other a stone from a manure pit.
That’s when the little unlucky one finally decided to fight back.
On her father’s birthday banquet, she invited Jin Wang to meet under Lin Ruzhen’s name, wanting to explain that she was the one who saved him.
When she woke up again, they were embracing each other, with all the guests outside the door.
Even though nothing happened, it was already impossible to explain clearly.
An imperial decree came down, and Lin Qingyue became Jin Wang’s consort first.
The naive girl thought that once she became the consort, she would have chances to tell Jin Wang that she was his savior and explain that day’s events.
On her wedding night, she waited alone in the bridal chamber, full of anxiety yet anticipation.
But what ultimately awaited her was certain death.
The current Lin Qingyue’s appearance remained unchanged, but her eyes and aura were completely different.
“Ah, what a pitiful little thing. Suffered her whole life, only to be strangled to death, full of grievances with nowhere to voice them.”
Lin Qingyue felt no sympathy for the original host, only thinking she was pathetically weak.
When in her maternal home, she couldn’t defeat her green tea sister, and her relatives turned against her.
After finally marrying into the royal manor, she possessed no means of self-protection whatsoever.
However, though Immortal Lord Lin Qingyue had ruled the World of Cultivation with ruthless tyranny for over a decade in her past life, she was someone who always repaid debts of gratitude. Since she now occupied this body, she naturally had to help its original owner seek vengeance and resolve her lingering regrets.
Though Princess Qing An hadn’t been fatally wounded from the earlier fall, one of her arms had been broken. The pain left her gasping silently for a long while.
Moonlight sharp as blades pierced through the window lattice, falling upon Lin Qingyue’s peerlessly beautiful face—yet it appeared sinister and terrifying, like a vengeful spirit clawing its way from the underworld to claim lives.