“Bang! Smack!”
“Clatter! Crash—”
From the living room came a series of chaotic noises. Listening closely, one could also hear cries of regret and pleas for mercy.
“Cousin, I was wrong!”
“Ah! Stop hitting me! It hurts so much…”
Fu Shuheng leaned back against the chair, his long legs crossed and propped up, his brow heavy as he cast a dark gaze at Yao Jin, who was being restrained by the bodyguards.
He seemed not to hear the other’s pleas, his fingertips tapping lightly against the armrest in a lazy rhythm.
His thin lips issued the command: “Continue.”
The bodyguard glanced at the patriarch who held complete control, exuding a suffocating pressure.
He shot Yao Jin a look that said “I can’t help you, may fortune favor you,” then resumed the one-sided beating.
“Ow ow ow—”
Yao Jin let out a miserable, agonized howl.
Inside the bedroom.
Qin Qing vaguely heard a bit of commotion. Clutching the blanket stained with Malevolent Aura, she turned over and continued sleeping.
The temperature in the room seemed a bit high. She unconsciously tugged at her clothes a few times, revealing a dazzlingly pale shoulder.
After a moment, as if still not satisfied, she kicked off the blanket as well.
Late at night.
Fu Shuheng emerged from the adjacent room, his silk pajamas clinging to his water-dampened body as he pushed open the bedroom door.
His eyes, still carrying lingering anger, lifted—and his breath suddenly caught as he stared at the person lying on his bed.
—Qin Qing’s clothes were half undone, radiating boundless allure, like a seductive beauty awaiting sacrifice.
The pulled-open collar revealed a stretch of hollowed collarbone, and below it, a faintly visible shadow.
It looked quite substantial…
Fu Shuheng had personally measured and handled it yesterday.
Qin Qing’s figure was petite, but not a single inch was lacking where flesh should be.
Fu Shuheng’s breathing grew heavy. As if disturbed, Qin Qing lazily turned over, her clothes riding up a few inches, revealing an even more tantalizing view.
Standing at the door, Fu Shuheng clenched his hands at his sides, his nails digging into his palms.
He wanted to use pain to calm the body that had awakened beneath the silk pajamas, silently protesting.
In the end, reason prevailed.
Fu Shuheng stopped looking at Qin Qing and strode quickly to the balcony to cool off in the cold wind.
From inside the room came the rustling sound of Qin Qing turning over, like a cat’s paw scratching at the tip of his heart.
Fu Shuheng’s lower back pressed against the railing, his head lowered as he looked at the body he couldn’t control, clamoring with dissatisfaction.
He said to himself, “Wait a little longer.” His voice was hoarse beyond recognition.
This unfamiliar torment of restraint, he endured willingly.
Having waited twenty-eight years, he didn’t mind holding on a while longer.
Only… he had underestimated Qin Qing’s influence on him. It far exceeded his expectations.
“Fu Yuanchen!”
Suddenly, a startled cry came from the bedroom.
Qin Qing’s hand waved through the air, as if grasping at something, trying to hold it back.
Fu Shuheng’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, one brow slightly raised.
First the childhood neighbor brother, and now she called her former fiancé’s name in her dreams.
Fu Shuheng turned his back to the bedroom, looking out at the courtyard scenery beyond the window, a smile curving at the corner of his lips—one devoid of warmth.
After his body had completely calmed, he left the room permeated with the girl’s cool fragrance.
Not long after.
Qin Qing, lying in bed, suddenly snapped her eyes open.
“A guest has arrived!”
Sensing the call of a lost soul, Qin Qing, thinking she was still in her pre-transmigration home, rushed out the door with her shoes on.
She charged into the Chinese-style courtyard that resembled a landscape painting, only to suddenly realize her surroundings were unfamiliar.
“Madam—”
A guard stepped forward, bowing in greeting.
Qin Qing narrowed her eyes and asked in a low voice, “Is there a car?”
The soul summoning her was blocked far away; it would take her a long time to walk there.
“Follow me, Madam.”
The guard extended his hand respectfully and led the way.
Fu Shuheng, standing before the floor-to-ceiling window upstairs, took in the entire scene.
He watched Qin Qing get into the car, heading toward the main gate of the estate—was she trying to run?
Qin Qing arrived at the main gate of the Fu family’s old residence at top speed. Outside the righteous, imposing estate floated densely packed, feeble soul bodies.
At the lead was a burly man in Ming Dynasty military attire. Through the solemn iron gate, he bowed respectfully to Qin Qing, who stood inside.
“Our souls and consciousness have been trapped in the prince’s mansion for hundreds of years. Upon learning that you slew the demoness Yin Niang, we have come especially to express our gratitude.”
The other lost souls behind him, their ghostly eyes fixed on Qin Qing, bowed in thanks as well.
“Thank you, Master, for awakening us, allowing us to see the light of day once more.”
Qin Qing stepped out of the estate and counted the souls present—no more than sixty in number.
She breathed a slight sigh of relief inwardly, her cool, indifferent eyes sweeping over the man in military attire.
“You didn’t come to me just to say thanks.”
Her tone was certain, carrying a hint of nonchalance.
The burly man in armor, whose ghostly face was already a mix of gray and white, revealed a trace of embarrassment and guilt.
He bowed once more, steeling himself to say, “We have been trapped in the mortal world for hundreds of years, long past the time for the underworld messengers to guide us. We cannot return to the Underworld, and we will soon fade away. We humbly beg the Master to perform a transcendence ritual for us.”
Qin Qing’s red lips curved into a cold smile, her tone mocking: “Who knows whether you are good or evil? If I were to transcend evil people, I couldn’t bear that karmic burden.”
Hearing this, the burly man in armor widened his ghostly eyes, fierce and vicious, and his voice reverted to its rough, wild nature.
“Aside from Yin Niang, we have never harmed anyone! Yin Niang murdered her master, and we slew her before our master’s spirit tablet to avenge him!”
The other lost souls seemed to have their bottom line touched as well, their ghostly faces growing increasingly sinister and ferocious as they chimed in one after another.
“She killed our master—our vengeance was only right!”
“Yin Niang was a female slave offered by another nation. She turned on her master—she deserved death!”
“If we hadn’t killed her, how could we face our master in the afterlife? That demon woman’s death was well deserved…”
The group of lost souls clamored noisily, their voices grating.
Qin Qing dug at her ear with her pinky finger, her expression growing more and more impatient.
The armored man noticed her displeasure and raised his hand to silence the other souls.
Qin Qing cast a condescending glance at them and let out a scoff. “Do you have any idea how much Mystic Power it takes for me to perform a transcendence ritual for lost souls? Without compensation, why should I help you?”
The lost souls exchanged bewildered looks, a hint of confusion surfacing on their aura-shrouded faces.
Qin Qing couldn’t be bothered to spar with them in the dead of night, so she cut straight to the point.
“I want your Karmic Merit.”
Before Yin Niang’s soul had scattered into oblivion, the Karmic Merit that had been lashed apart by the Soul-Extracting Whip had all returned to these lost souls.
“Deal! I’ll give all my Karmic Merit to the master!”
The armored man’s Ghost Eye lit up, his voice urgent, as if afraid Qin Qing might change her mind.
Karmic Merit was utterly worthless compared to the permanent dissolution of one’s soul!
Qin Qing flicked a golden beam of Mystic Power from her fingertip, enveloping the armored man and the other lost souls within a golden light barrier.
“Wait!”
The armored man felt a warmth spreading through his Soul Body and saw Qin Qing’s hands forming hand seals, so he hastily spoke up: “Before the transcendence ritual, we have a treasure to offer the master!”
Qin Qing’s finger movements paused slightly, a flicker of interest rising within her.
“Oh? What treasure?”
The armored man extended a hand wreathed in thick black aura, and an old red-lacquered wooden box materialized in his palm.
“This is something that demon woman Yin Niang kept hidden like a treasure. They say it can keep a woman forever young and beautiful, and with prolonged wear, it can even alter one’s constitution…”