Although Chu Sheng knew it was impossible to stop Chu'he from being with that poor boy from the mountains, he hadn’t expected to give up so soon.
He had been young once too, and he understood that at Ninth and Chu'he’s age, they must be burning with desire. The last thing he wanted was for Chu'he’s belly to swell before the wedding!
As the saying goes, no one knows a daughter like her father. The moment Chu Sheng laid eyes on Ninth, he could tell this bewitching young man wasn’t as docile as he seemed. He was wild, full of cunning thoughts—even if he was confined to the guest quarters, he’d surely find a way to sneak off to Chu'he!
So, Chu Sheng took matters into his own hands, standing guard with a wooden staff. And just as he suspected, the young couple was trying to pull a fast one on him!
Strangely enough, Chu Sheng had once found Ninth’s eerie charm unsettling. But now that this brat had stolen his daughter away, his fear vanished, replaced by an overwhelming urge to beat some sense into him.
Chu Sheng raised his staff and pointed it at Ninth. "Stay in your room and don’t you dare leave!"
Ninth pursed his lips and muttered, "Fine."
With a heavy "hmph," Chu Sheng turned to leave—only for a faint dingling sound to ripple through the air.
He froze.
His dark eyes turned hollow, reflecting nothing but a silver bell swaying gently before him. The light, cheerful chime carried an unsettling undercurrent.
Like a ghost, the boy had appeared right in front of him without a sound. The pale fingers holding the bell only added to his spectral aura.
Ninth murmured, "I didn’t leave my room tonight. I stayed inside and slept the whole time."
Chu Sheng repeated dully, "You didn’t leave your room tonight. You stayed inside and slept the whole time."
Ninth continued in a whisper, "I respect the customs of the Central Plains. Not just tonight—until the wedding, I won’t visit Chu'he after dark."
Chu Sheng echoed, "You respect the customs of the Central Plains. Not just tonight—until the wedding, you won’t visit Chu'he after dark."
"So you don’t need to stand guard every night. It’s late—go to sleep."
Chu Sheng mumbled, "I should go to sleep."
Clutching his staff, he trudged mechanically back to his own courtyard and into his room.
Bai Lian, reclining on the bed, had nearly dozed off when Chu Sheng suddenly returned. She quickly struck a seductive pose, tugging her robe lower to reveal a bare shoulder, the sheer fabric teasingly translucent.
"My lord, the night is so enchanting—let me serve you—ah!"
She was shoved off the bed, landing hard on the floor. By the time she looked up, Chu Sheng was already bundled under the blankets, hugging his staff like a log, snoring softly.
Bai Lian bit her lip and stood, fuming. "He’d rather cuddle a piece of wood than hold me!"
Then, recalling Chu Sheng’s years of indifference, she gasped and covered her mouth.
"Could it be… he’s too old to perform?"
The cool moonlight bathed the silent night.
Chu'he lounged against the headboard, flipping through her book with relish. The uncensored edition was especially thrilling to read late at night—the more scandalous the passages, the more her imagination ran wild.
Her gaze drifted repeatedly to the unlocked window. She rolled onto her side, suddenly bored with the dry text.
A gust of night wind burst in—the window swung open and shut. Before she could even smile, a familiar weight pressed down on her.
"Chu'he, I missed you."
Practice makes perfect, and Ninth had become alarmingly skilled at undressing her—especially with Chu'he’s eager cooperation.
Flimsy robes and silk undergarments were tossed aside. The red-beaded anklet around Chu'he’s foot brushed against Ninth’s sculpted waistline, swaying wildly with every passionate movement.
Breathless, Chu'he cupped his face. "Why are you so late?"
"I ran into your father." He buried his face in her chest again, nipping like an impatient puppy.
"Did he stop you?" Suspicion crept into her voice as she lifted his head once more. "Then how did you get here?"
Ninth groaned. Why so many questions at a time like this?
"I told him we’re already married—that makes us husband and wife. He agreed and went to bed."
Chu'he narrowed her eyes. "Really?"
"Really. I wouldn’t lie."
The fiery youth could wait no longer. Gripping her waist, he drove into her with such fervor that all further interrogation was lost in the haze of pleasure.
Deep in the night, the watchman’s clapper struck three times, his voice carrying through the streets. "Dry weather, beware of fire!"
In a shadowed alley, a bloodied man staggered along the wall. Spotting the watchman, he reached out in desperation—but before a sound could escape, a hand clamped over his mouth, dislocated his jaw, and dragged him back into darkness.
The man collapsed, trembling before his attacker.
"Where did you hide the Cang Family’s treasure? Tell me, and I might spare your life."
The hunched figure loomed, leaning on a cane, his voice a rasping whisper like a vengeful wraith.
The man could no longer speak. He tried to crawl away, but a swift strike from the cane shattered his leg, silencing even his screams.
"Silence won’t save you. I’ll find out anyway."
The gnarled hand pressed against the man’s skull. A crushing force invaded his mind—his eyes rolled back in agony.
Fifteen years ago. A sea of corpses. A blaze that consumed over a hundred lives.
Two loyal servants fled the inferno, a child in their arms. After years of hardship, they settled in Yangcheng under false names.
One whispered to the other, "The Cang Family saved us. Even if it costs our lives, we must protect their last descendant."
The other nodded. "We’re too conspicuous together. We’ll split up."
And so they parted, not to meet again until a chance encounter in the streets recently.
The old specter delved deeper into the memories—until they abruptly cut off. The man had plunged a dagger into his own heart.
Knowing he stood no chance against this demon, he chose death over betrayal.
The elder withdrew his hand, coughing. With a wave, shadowy figures materialized behind him.
"Find me a skilled portrait artist. I need to identify someone—and investigate everyone they’ve crossed paths with."
As for the now-useless corpse, another gesture summoned swarms of insects from the darkness. They devoured the body, leaving no trace behind.
