Qian Luo followed behind Zhang Youwei, her heart hammering against her ribs with every step.
Zhang Youwei was stunning—much like all members of the Zhang clan. As the “aristocracy” among ghost-tamers, they possessed a cold, refined beauty: skin like untouched snow, ink-black eyes, a high bridge to the nose, and crimson lips.
She wasn’t one for small talk, and her face remained a mask of indifference. Yet, her beauty lay in that very stillness—the way she looked at you with a gaze that felt naturally arrogant yet alluring. It was the kind of coldness that could easily make a heart skip a beat.
After what had just happened, Qian Luo realized that Zhang Youwei only appeared arrogant. A truly haughty person wouldn’t have bothered to extend a helping hand to a stranger.
Well, Qian Luo thought, even if she is a ruthless Zhang, she’s not actually that dislikable.
They reached the archive room. Qian Luo, clutching her pile of miscellaneous items, struggled to open the door. She had to awkwardly twist her waist to reach the handle with one free hand. Seeing her struggle, Zhang Youwei reached out to steady the stack of files for her.
With Zhang Youwei’s help, Qian Luo moved the pile of essentially useless junk inside. She was terrified that Youwei might glance at the contents—if she did, she’d find a chaotic mess of celebrity tabloids, gossip columns, and old accounting reports.
As she tidied up, Qian Luo kept a surreptitious eye on her companion.
The Zhang family governed their younger generation with extreme discipline. Those who hailed from the Chang’an Zhangs walked with a distinct posture—every movement reflected an almost excessive level of upbringing. Even just standing there, Zhang Youwei exuded a sense of rigid, austere perfection.
However… this well-bred young lady currently standing in the archive room had suddenly frozen.
She was standing tall, her slender waist accentuated by her gold-trimmed white outfit. But her habitually cold face was rapidly flushing a deep shade of crimson as she stared at the shelves.
Qian Luo followed her gaze and nearly had a heart attack.
Zhang Youwei had been raised in a traditional, ascetic household of ghost-tamers; she was effectively a “cloistered” little beauty. And now… now she was seeing this…
Qian Luo wanted to scream into the void: Ahhh! Yin Tong, did you send me here specifically to kill me?!
Being an entertainment company’s “archive room,” it was naturally filled with backups of celebrity magazines and posters. This was likely Yin Tong’s doing, as no normal company would archive things this way. And the cabinet directly in front of Zhang Youwei happened to contain…
Sultry photo books of various third-rate bikini models.
Zhang Youwei took a sharp step back. She turned a shocked, flaming-red face toward Qian Luo, stammered for a second, and then bolted out the door. “Farewell!”
Qian Luo practically clawed at the wall behind her, watching the girl flee without looking back. Her inner voice roared: This has nothing to do with me! I swear!
…
Left alone in the archives, Qian Luo felt a bit dejected.
Still… that sight of Zhang Youwei! Her pale, almost translucent skin had been flooded with color all the way down to her neck. Who would have thought the legendary, cold-blooded Zhangs had such a side? Hahaha! I should have taken a picture!
I’d show it to those ruthless Zhang elders: “Look at the descendant you raised under your iron rod—she turns into a tomato just looking at a spicy magazine!” Hahaha!
After laughing to herself, Qian Luo began to scan the shelves. Yin Tong wasn’t the type to help her out of the kindness of her heart; giving her the keys meant there was something here she was meant to see.
Sure enough, after walking a few steps, she found the section for Lin Wanchen—Zhou Xiaoming’s biological mother, the actress who had married into the Zhou family thanks to her child.
The records detailed her rise to fame ten years ago. It turned out this “Film Queen” had fought tooth and nail for her status. She started as a swimsuit model before landing a role in a film by a famous director—a “clothed-only-in-shadows” supporting role. She had been embroiled in scandals with directors and male stars, all of which she denied, before finally marrying CEO Zhou Lu.
The road to being a Film Queen is certainly rocky.
Right next to those old, provocative photo books was a magazine featuring a purely smiling Zhou Xiaoming. Qian Luo picked it up and sighed. It wasn’t easy for a girl to remain so innocent with a mother who used any means necessary for status.
What a waste of a life.
As she was flipping through, a soft knock sounded at the door. She turned to see Zhang Youwei standing at the entrance.
Qian Luo looked at her pale face, which was still tinged with pink, and gave her a bit of a roguish grin. Her eyes said: Looking for me? Why don’t you come back in?
Zhang Youwei’s expression remained cold, but the blush softened her icy features significantly. Seeing that she absolutely refused to step inside, Qian Luo didn’t push her luck and walked out to the hallway instead.
Zhang Youwei glanced at her and pulled out a small talisman. “A person died in this building. It is ‘unclean’.” She looked at the stack of documents on the table. “I imagine you’ll be working late. It’s unsafe here. Take this charm for protection.”
Qian Luo blinked. It seemed the Zhang family wasn’t as heartless as the rumors suggested.
Instead of taking the charm, Qian Luo tucked her hands behind her back and leaned toward Zhang Youwei. “Miss Zhang? Little sister Zhang?”
Youwei looked at her. “Yes?”
Qian Luo winked. “Why didn’t you come in? There’s air conditioning and a chair. I could pour you a cup of tea as thanks for helping me move those things.”
Zhang Youwei’s face stiffened further. She instinctively took a step back, her blush deepening. “I’m not going in there.” She turned to leave.
Qian Luo found her too fun to pass up. She jogged after her, laughing. “Hey, what about my charm? Did you change your mind about giving it to me?”
Zhang Youwei realized she was still clutching the talisman, exposing the fact that she was still rattled. However, being a trained disciple, she regained her composure quickly. The color faded from her face, and her mask of cold pride returned. She handed the charm to Qian Luo.
Qian Luo took it and tucked it away. “Sure you don’t want to sit for a bit?”
“No,” Zhang Youwei said coldly. She took a sudden step forward, forcing Qian Luo back against the wall. She stared into her eyes. “You’re just a low-level employee. Where would you get tea in a company archive room?”
Qian Luo’s heart skipped a beat. Crap. She’d been so amused by Youwei’s embarrassment that she’d let her guard down. She couldn’t let the girl suspect her identity—the Zhangs had a habit of “removing” uninvited competition.
She sighed inwardly. Smart people are smart for a reason; even if they’re flustered for a second, they catch on fast.
Qian Luo blinked innocently. “I handle the archives every day; this place is basically my office. Of course I have my own tea leaves. Don’t be so mean to me just because you don’t want a drink…”
She felt guilty. Zhang Youwei’s voice just now had been laced with a sharp, terrifying aura. Truly a professional ghost-tamer.
Zhang Youwei’s face returned to its flat expression. “I see. Good.” Without a word of farewell, she turned and walked away.
As she reached the end of the hall, the waiting receptionist scurried over. “Miss Zhang, did you discover anything?”
“The deceased has been gone for less than three days,” Zhang Youwei said tonelessly. “The soul should have been nearby, but the spiritual array here has already been broken by someone. Further investigation here is useless; I must track the residual trail.”
Standing at a distance, Qian Luo watched the white-clad beauty. Hearing those few words, she realized the girl had deduced exactly what had happened during the previous night’s battle without a single error. She was impressive.
Qian Luo watched her leave, thinking that if they ever met again, she’d love to tease her some more. The colder the mask, the more fun it was to see it crack.
But as she walked back into the archive room, her body suddenly stiffened.
The sword, the black hair, the gold-on-white outfit, the high nose bridge…
Cold sweat broke out on Qian Luo’s palms.
Oh no. I really HAVE seen that girl before.
If Zhang Youwei remembered where, everything would be over.
…
Meanwhile, downstairs at the main entrance, Zhang Youwei asked the staff member, “That girl from just now—what is her name?”
Because of the data leak scandal, the staff member knew exactly who she meant. “Her? She’s a newcomer named Lin Yi. She’s a bit clumsy. Miss Zhang, I hope you don’t think we mistreat our staff—she came in to work overtime on her own today.”
Zhang Youwei nodded.
The name Lin Yi didn’t ring a bell.
I must have remembered wrong, she thought. How could I have ever met such an ordinary woman?
She stepped out toward the car. “Take me to the crime scene.”
…
Qian Luo realizes she has a history with the most dangerous ghost-tamer in the country! Should she try to leave the city to avoid being recognized, or stay to finish the case before Zhang Youwei connects the dots?