The memories of South Wind Pavilion sent a chill through Xu Junzhu’s eyes.
She forced herself to steady her breathing, ignoring the numbness in her scalp, and feigned composure as she looked at Li Zhaoye and Luo Luo.
"I never imagined Master Qingxu’s past would be so tragic—"
Her voice abruptly halted.
On the rattan chairs, Li Zhaoye and Luo Luo had gone completely still—their expressions stiff, their eyes vacant, like two hollow puppets stripped of their souls.
"Little Junior Sister! Senior Brother!"
Xu Junzhu sucked in a sharp breath and rushed forward to check on them.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught glimpses of the ongoing memory fragments.
From her perspective, the young Qingxu murmured to himself before lying motionless on the bed, submitting to whatever was done to him.
The white silk, embedded into his eye sockets through some sinister method, drew little blood—precisely because he didn’t resist—but the sight sent a cold, creeping dread down her spine.
"Little Junior Sister! Little Junior Sister!"
Xu Junzhu gently shook Luo Luo’s hand.
Her body was rigid as a statue.
Xu Junzhu’s heart sank. She turned to Li Zhaoye and saw him tilting his head slightly, his dark, narrow eyes half-lidded—scrutinizing the young man in the memory with a detached, almost predatory gaze.
"Little Junior Sister, Senior Brother!"
She called out several more times, but neither responded.
Their souls had clearly left their bodies.
A frosty glint flashed in Xu Junzhu’s eyes as she turned back to the memory.
The young Qingxu lay stiffly on the bed, drenched in sweat, his face obscured by the wide white silk covering his eyes, brows, and half his nose.
His lips were bloodless as snow, his pallor making his delicate features all the more striking.
The silk, now stained with flecks of blood, draped limply beside his face—so loose it could be torn away with a single tug. The heavy breathing of the men around him grew ragged, their eyes dark with a predatory hunger, thick as spilled ink.
The madam’s laughter faded into the distance as the scene warped into an eerie crimson hue.
It could have been the glow of sunset filtering into the room—or diluted blood trickling down the stained-glass windows.
The red grew blinding.
Xu Junzhu narrowed her eyes, straining to see, but the details blurred beyond recognition.
After a brief pause, she summoned her sword and swiftly set up multiple protective arrays around them. Then she seated herself opposite Luo Luo and Li Zhaoye, forming a hand seal as her sword’s icy aura enveloped them—a ward to shield their wandering souls.
"Welcome to my hell."
Every hair on Luo Luo’s body stood on end.
The young Qingxu’s face was a twisted blend of beauty and venom, like a cold, slithering serpent.
As his voice echoed, an overwhelming tide of red light surged forth, swallowing Luo Luo whole.
The piercing glare forced her to shut her eyes, her eyelids burning with the phantom stain of blood.
‘This is bad—’
A large, familiar hand landed on her shoulder, squeezing twice in reassurance—she knew the hardness of those knuckles anywhere.
Knowing Li Zhaoye was beside her, Luo Luo’s panic instantly subsided.
He guided her swiftly through the shifting space.
After a moment of adjustment, she dared to open her eyes again.
The world was awash in shades of red.
Beneath her feet stretched a vermilion wooden corridor, flanked by scarlet pillars. The translucent paper windows glowed crimson, and the lanterns hanging overhead bled a deep, unsettling scarlet.
The plump merchants, the tray-bearing attendants, the coquettish courtesans—all were bathed in red garments, their shadows pooling like rust on the floor.
Laughter and chatter buzzed around them.
Luo Luo turned to Li Zhaoye and found him tilting his head, his sharp ears pricked for sound.
Then—
She froze.
Blinked. Rubbed her eyes.
"Li Zhaoye…" Her voice came out thin.
He flicked a quick gesture for silence.
Luo Luo bit her lip, her gaze locked onto him in horror.
Under the translucent red light, his pale skin was fissured with countless wounds—cracks running from his forehead to his cheeks, his nose to his jaw, his neck to his collarbones, disappearing beneath his robes. Every inch of him was split open.
She glanced down. Even the hand resting on her shoulder was a lattice of deep, intersecting gashes.
Li Zhaoye looked like a shattered clay figurine.
The wounds were thin but deep, the split flesh revealing bone beneath, yet not a single drop of blood spilled.
Her heart ached so fiercely her lips trembled.
He swiftly pushed open a nearby door, nudged her inside, and shut it behind them.
After listening for movement outside, he finally turned to her.
"What’s with that look?" He leaned down, cupping her face, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. "Getting distracted by my face at a time like this?"
Luo Luo opened her mouth, but no words came out.
The face before her was a ruin—as though flayed by a thousand blades.
Li Zhaoye studied her expression, then huffed.
In this blood-drenched world, her eyes remained twin pools of black—clear as mirrors, reflecting his shattered visage back at him.
With a low hiss, he prodded at one of the cracks on his cheek.
Then his hand. His arms.
"Eh." He flexed his fingers, watching the fissures stretch. "Just scratches."
Luo Luo inhaled shakily and nodded.
"And the rest of you?"
Her gaze dropped to his collar, where the fractures disappeared beneath fabric. Without thinking, she tugged at his robes, rising onto her toes to peer inside.
Li Zhaoye clicked his tongue.
He arched a brow, arms lifting in mock surrender, letting her strip him if she pleased.
"Why are there so many?" Her fingertips hovered over his chest, afraid to touch.
Not an inch of him was whole.
She tried channeling spiritual energy to heal him—only to find her meridians barren, her core unreachable.
"I—I’m mortal again?" she stammered.
"Soul form," Li Zhaoye corrected, amused. "Our souls got dragged into South Wind Pavilion."
Luo Luo stared at him.
…Soul form?
Her heart clenched.
So this was the state of his soul—fractured, barely held together.
And yet he joked like it was nothing.
Her vision blurred.
Li Zhaoye sighed.
He covered her eyes with one hand while yanking his robes shut with the other. "Enough staring."
"…Right." She lowered her gaze.
Her fingers twitched at her sides, aching to hold him—but she feared hurting him further.
The lump in her throat made it hard to breathe.
She swallowed hard and forced a steady tone. "What now?"
"We wait." He pressed an ear to the door, peering through the slit. "They’re almost done eating."
"Eating what?"
"People."
Luo Luo’s pupils shrank. "What?!"
"Shh." He pressed a finger to her lips.
A wooden door slid open somewhere down the hall.
Then—
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The corridor trembled under heavy footsteps.
The floorboards quaked beneath them.
Suddenly, a massive shadow loomed over them, engulfing the entire floor-to-ceiling wooden window along the corridor.
Luo Luo’s pupils contracted—what a colossal figure!
Upon closer inspection, the shadow turned out to be a person—but one so tall they had to hunch over to move through the hallway, their arms dangling low.
Each step sent a dull tremor through the floor—thud, thud, thud.
"Ah!"
A sharp scream pierced the air.
Someone on the corridor, too slow to escape, was snatched up by the giant’s hand, lifted effortlessly, and stuffed into its mouth. The sound of chewing followed—crunch, crunch, crunch!
The noise of bones splintering was like metal scraping against skull, sending shivers down the spine.
Bits of shattered bone and flesh rained onto the wooden floor, pitter-patter, pitter-patter.
The people in the corridor finally snapped out of their daze, unleashing bloodcurdling shrieks.
"AAAAHHH—"
Boom! Bang! Thud! Whoosh—CRASH!
The hallway erupted into chaos—stomping feet, bodies colliding, screams. Someone vaulted over the railing, plummeting to the first-floor hall.
The stench of blood thickened, mingling with the crimson glow saturating the air, turning it metallic and suffocating.
Huuuuu—mmmm—
The enormous shadow shifted toward the private room where Luo Luo and Li Zhaoye were hiding.
Li Zhaoye pressed her head against his chest, his back braced against a square pillar.
She could hear his heartbeat.
Steady. Slow.
Utterly composed.
The giant’s head hovered at the doorway. Luo Luo heard the deep, bovine snuffling of its breath.
Through the carved lattice and paper screen, she could see it tilting its head, pressing its face against the doorframe.
The mental image of a massive eye peering through the gap made her scalp prickle.
Huuu—thud, thud!
The giant withdrew its head and lumbered away, resuming its pursuit of the fleeing crowd.
Luo Luo exhaled reflexively. "Hah…"
She lifted her head to speak, only for Li Zhaoye to clamp a hand over her mouth and nose.
"Mmph!"
At the same instant, the door to their room was yanked open—wind howled inside, sending Luo Luo’s hair standing on end.
The seemingly sluggish giant had silently doubled back, launching a surprise attack.
Whoosh—
A foul gust of air rushed in as the giant thrust its head inside.
Luo Luo could picture the grotesque sight—its body remained in the hallway while its head snaked in like a serpent, eyes roving as it searched for prey.
Li Zhaoye’s heartbeat remained steady.
Back against the pillar, he listened to the shifting air, occasionally shifting Luo Luo to the opposite side—each move perfectly evading the giant’s probing gaze.
After what felt like an eternity, the giant finally withdrew, its heavy footsteps fading down the corridor.
Li Zhaoye leaned close to Luo Luo’s ear, whispering, "Don’t gasp for air."
She nodded quickly.
He released her.
Luo Luo, already lightheaded, parted her lips slightly, taking small, quiet sips of cool air.
Li Zhaoye: "Tch."
Luo Luo: "?"
She hadn’t gasped.
Then his fingers closed around the nape of her neck. He bent down, tilted his head, and sealed his mouth over hers.
Her eyes flew open—her mind hummed with static.
Her body, wired from tension, trembled violently at his invasion, her very soul quaking.
His calloused fingers kneaded her neck gently.
His lips parted hers, his tongue nudging at her teeth—a silent instruction: Breathe like this.
Luo Luo froze.
Breathing through his mouth? She’d sooner die.
She shivered in his arms, her petal-soft lips quivering against his, unconsciously brushing back and forth.
Li Zhaoye was about to indulge further when he realized—she’d stopped breathing through her nose too.
"…"
If this kept up, he’d suffocate the fool.
He pulled away, resigned. "Breathe."
Luo Luo: "…Oh."
From their position on the third floor, the giant’s footsteps now echoed from the first-floor hall, where it hunted in the open space.
Li Zhaoye jerked his chin—Follow me.
She studied his expression. His face was all business, dark eyes narrowed in focus.
She reassured herself: He wasn’t kissing me on purpose. He just didn’t want my breathing to attract the monster.
They slipped out of the room, pressing against a pillar to peer downward.
Luo Luo’s breath hitched.
The giant was none other than the youth—Master Qingxu.
Standing two stories tall, his eyes bound by a white silk ribbon, he moved with eerie precision. Sniffing the air, tilting his head to listen, he snatched fleeing victims effortlessly, cramming them into his mouth.
Blood smeared his lips and chin, his delicate features twisted into something both grotesque and mesmerizing.
Luo Luo glanced at the main doors.
The intricately carved wooden doors were mysteriously barricaded—people shoved and pounded, but they wouldn’t budge.
The street-facing windows were sealed by an unseen force.
Bathed in crimson light, the entire brothel had become a slaughterhouse.
Limbless corpses littered the floor as survivors scrambled over blood-slick stairs, tumbling over each other.
With terrifying strength, Qingxu hoisted the jade auction platform—the very one he’d once been displayed on—and hurled it at the crowd clawing at the doors.
BOOM!
Dust and gore exploded outward.
A man narrowly avoided the crushing weight, his back pressed to the wall, limbs twitching uncontrollably.
Tap.
Qingxu’s hand—pale, elegant—rested on the platform’s edge.
He lifted it effortlessly, revealing a smile beneath the white silk.
Then, still smiling, he slid the platform toward the gasping survivor—CRUNCH!
The man was pulverized against the wall.
Qingxu chuckled softly before turning away, ears pricked for new prey.
Huff! Huff! Huff!
On the stairs between the second and third floors, a child sat paralyzed.
He’d accidentally knocked over a silver wine jug abandoned in the panic.
Clatter-clatter-clatter!
The jug tumbled down, slipping through the railing to land at Qingxu’s feet.
The giant lifted his blindfolded face.
Thwack!
His fingers dug into the central pillar, splintering wood as he scaled it effortlessly.
Forced to stoop in the confined space, he leaned toward the child, nostrils flaring.
The boy hyperventilated, each exhale a puff of red-tinged vapor.
Qingxu’s jaws unhinged, descending toward the child’s head—
"Second Brother Li!" The child squeezed his eyes shut, wailing. "It’s me, Miao! Waaah!"
Qingxu froze.
Luo Luo recognized the boy.
Before Master Qingxu was executed, the little boy Miao tried to save him but failed.
"Ah... Miao?"
Master Qingxu spoke in a light, eerie tone that sent chills down the spine. "It's you, Miao."
He still remembered him.
The boy trembled, cautiously opening his eyes.
"Second Brother Li..." He tentatively reached out, fingers brushing against Qingxu's enormous face, choking back sobs as he asked, "Have you... become a vengeful ghost?"
A grotesque smile stretched across Qingxu's face. "A vengeful ghost? Yes, Miao. Second Brother Li has become a vengeful ghost. Let's kill all these wretched people, shall we?"
Miao wept silently, too afraid to speak. He feared killing, but he also dared not defy this monstrous spirit.
"Then Second Brother Li will take you away from here." Qingxu smiled, pointing toward the gate. "Only I can lead you out."
Luo Luo and Li Zhaoye exchanged a quick glance.
In this hellish place, no one stood a chance against Qingxu. If they wanted to escape, they had to play by his rules.
Li Zhaoye reached over, gripping Luo Luo's wrist. His palm bore several scars, rough against her skin.
Suppressing her pity, Luo Luo focused intently on Qingxu and Miao.
Miao nodded vigorously. "Yes! Second Brother Li, I want to leave so badly!"
"But Second Brother Li is tired." Qingxu leaned languidly against the corridor railing, exuding an unsettling grace. "I need to rest for a while."
His presence dimmed rapidly.
His body shrank, returning to the size of an ordinary man in an instant.
He jolted awake.
Instinctively, he raised a hand to rub his eyes, only to touch the white silk blindfold. His body stiffened in terror. Frantically, he groped the air, his face twisted with fear. "Where am I? Is anyone there?"
"Second Brother Li..." Miao called hesitantly.
"Miao? Is that you, Miao?" Qingxu clutched at him like a drowning man grasping at straws. "I can't see anything, Miao." Now, he seemed fragile and harmless—nothing like the vengeful ghost from before.
Miao let him cling to his hand, speaking carefully. "Second Brother Li, you said... you'd take me away."
Qingxu's expression crumpled, his voice trembling. "Leave? Can we really leave? They won't let us go. There's no escape."
Miao glanced at the blood-soaked hall. "W-we can! The building's in chaos. They're too busy saving themselves to stop us."
"Really?" Young Qingxu's face lit up with hope. Gripping Miao with one hand, he fumbled for the railing with the other, struggling to his feet.
The two leaned on each other, stumbling toward the stairs.
Li Zhaoye signaled Luo Luo to keep watching.
Silently, he slipped back into the room where Qingxu had been tortured. Moments later, he reappeared, nodding at her. "Let's go."
They hugged the walls, descending the stairs without a sound, maintaining a careful distance from Qingxu and Miao.
By now, everyone in South Wind Pavilion was either dead or paralyzed with fear.
At the sight of Qingxu, people clapped hands over their mouths, cowering under tables or in corners, trembling uncontrollably.
Miao guided Qingxu to the main gate without trouble.
A jade pedestal blocked the exit—far too heavy for Miao to move alone.
Hesitantly, he asked Qingxu, "Can I ask someone to help move this?"
Qingxu nodded quickly.
Miao settled him against the wall, then stood on tiptoe, waving at the crowd. "Come on! Help us move this!"
No one dared to move.
Miao pleaded desperately, "Hurry! Second Brother Li won’t hurt anyone! But if he... changes again, it’ll be too late!"
Though he had suffered much here, there were still good people among them. Miao couldn’t bear to see them slaughtered.
Finally, someone mustered the courage to step forward.
"Look, we’re dead either way. Might as well try."
After a tense silence, others rose.
"Let’s do it. Together."
"Me too!"
One by one, they joined, carefully skirting Qingxu as they gathered around the pedestal.
"Heave! Heave! Heave!"
They whispered the chant, inching the jade slab aside.
Luo Luo glanced at Li Zhaoye, silently asking, Should we help?
He shook his head.
"Save your strength," he drawled. "You’re weaker than that fat guy." He jerked his chin toward a pudgy man in silk robes.
Luo Luo: "..."
Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.
Creak—THUD!
With a final heave, the slab shifted enough to clear the door.
Miao rushed back to Qingxu, helping him up.
Wherever Qingxu walked, the crowd scrambled back in terror.
At the threshold, he raised a hand, feeling for the door, and pushed.
Creeeak—
The stubborn gate, unmoved by the crowd’s efforts, yielded to the frail boy’s touch, cracking open.
A hushed cheer rippled through the survivors.
Even those who had hung back now surged forward, shoving toward the sliver of freedom.
Suddenly, Qingxu froze.
He turned, tilting his head with a slow, chilling smile. "All here, are we?"
"W-what?!"
His body erupted in size, blotting out the doorway in an instant.
Looming over them, his shadow swallowed the crowd whole.
Though blind, his hearing and smell were preternaturally sharp, his movements feral and swift.
With a smile, he descended into slaughter.
Those who fled were crushed under the flung jade pedestal.
Screams erupted. People trampled each other, the shadows thick with despair deeper than before.
Qingxu’s ears twitched, pinpointing Miao’s location. He turned, grinning. "I told you—kill them all, then we leave. Why the rush?"
Miao stood frozen by the wall.
Before him, blood rained in arcs. Severed limbs spun through the air like drumsticks in a frenzied dance.
No one escaped the carnage.
The screams faded.
The hellscape fell silent, drowned in blood.
Qingxu lunged, snatching the last fugitive—a man scrambling upstairs—and hurled him at a hanging plaque.
Splat.
The man burst like a swatted mosquito.
Qingxu inhaled deeply, savoring the metallic stench.
The hall was drenched in red.
Li Zhaoye held Luo Luo's wrist, hiding behind a tall pillar.
The giant surveyed the area for a moment before sighing faintly and striding toward the gate.
As he walked, he spread his hands innocently and said to the petrified child by the door, "Hopeful people die in much more amusing ways, you know."
The child’s face turned deathly pale, his body limp as mud.
Master Qingxu approached him step by step, his figure gradually shrinking until he regained his harmless, gentle appearance.
The child’s throat and lips trembled uncontrollably, too terrified even to cry.
"Miao, Miao," Master Qingxu called softly, now back in his human form, reaching out blindly. "Miao, where are you? Can we… go now?"
His tone was almost cautious.
The child flinched, instinctively shrinking away.
Blind and unsteady, Master Qingxu stumbled through the slick pools of blood, each step precarious.
Just as he was about to trip over a corpse, a sudden gust of wind cut through the stagnant air of the hall.
Li Zhaoye darted from his hiding spot, closing the distance in a few strides before gripping Master Qingxu’s arm.
"Steady now, let’s go!" Li Zhaoye said cheerfully.
He tilted his head, signaling Luo Luo to prepare for their escape.
The young-looking Master Qingxu trembled, turning his sightless gaze toward Li Zhaoye. "You are…?"
Li Zhaoye declared shamelessly, "I’m just a helpful, good-hearted soul!"
With one hand gripping Master Qingxu’s elbow, his other hand idly played with the white silk tail trailing behind him—twisting it, releasing it, over and over like a shuttle.
The child, Miao, cried out in alarm, "Don’t touch that! You can’t pull it!"
Li Zhaoye waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, I know."
Soon, the four of them reached the gate.
Luo Luo pushed against the carved wooden doors, but they stood firm, unmovable as cast iron.
Miao whispered timidly, "Only Second Brother Li can open them."
"Yeah, yeah," Li Zhaoye muttered impatiently. He gripped Master Qingxu’s arm like a lever and shoved it against the door.
Creak—
The doors swung open obediently.
Blinding white light poured in, clashing with the crimson-drenched hall in a hazy glow.
The gap was just wide enough for a person.
"Let’s go!" Li Zhaoye cheered.
He tugged—but Master Qingxu didn’t budge.
The young man stood frozen, head bowed, laughing softly.
"What’s the point of opening the door for you?" His body shuddered, then swelled monstrously once more. "Such a pity. Another hope about to be crushed."
He tilted his head, locking onto Li Zhaoye and Luo Luo.
"You hid so well. Took me forever to find you."
The towering shadow of the giant blocked their escape again.
His massive hand shot toward Li Zhaoye—CRASH!—the floor shattered under the force.
Li Zhaoye barely dodged, his appearance thoroughly disheveled.
Master Qingxu struck again.
"Hey—!" Li Zhaoye shouted. "Those blindfolded eyes are your weak spot, aren’t they?"
Master Qingxu chuckled darkly. "And what of it?"
His enlarged form meant the white silk covering his eyes was now massive—far beyond any ordinary person’s strength to tear away.
Luo Luo caught on.
While the giant focused on Li Zhaoye, she dashed behind him, panting as she rolled the wooden shuttle tangled in the silk tail and looped it around a pillar.
The gag.
Before descending earlier, Li Zhaoye had slipped into the chamber where Master Qingxu was tortured and retrieved the wooden gag forced into his mouth.
Just as he’d guessed, this "torture tool" also grew with Master Qingxu’s size, just like the blindfold.
Earlier, while playing with the silk, he’d secretly tied the gag into it.
Snap. Thud.
The enormous gag wedged against the pillar.
Master Qingxu lunged forward—the silk yanked taut behind him—
TWANG!
Time seemed to slow.
The blindfold ripped from his face. A horrific torrent of blood gushed out as agony forced his tongue to loll.
"AAAAAGH—!" His scream shook the hall like thunder.
Li Zhaoye sidestepped, sprinting across the corpse-strewn floor to seize Luo Luo’s wrist.
"Now!"
As they crossed the threshold, he turned back, laughing wildly at the writhing giant.
"Who’s the one who never learns now—huh?" he taunted.
Luo Luo: "…"
You’re really asking for a beating.
