Chapter 10: The General's Treasure (Ten)
The other's hand carried an unyielding, forceful intent, rubbing eagerly against his delicate skin, leaving a gorgeous pale red mark on Qi An's exposed wrist.
That thin redness was like a tender, dew-laden peach blossom.
—A mark of sorts.
It made the creature excited, its breathing quickening. Qi An felt the chilling breath drawing near, from the back of his neck to the side of his face.
Something tongue-like began to lick at his earlobe, circling back and forth in a teasing manner.
Qi An furrowed his brows in discomfort, and a faint blush spread across his jade-white face. Like the spring sun, beautiful and stirring. This spring-touched appearance aroused an indescribable stimulation within the indecent creature—no longer satisfied with just this, the bone-piercing coldness gradually moved upward.
Those hands caressed Qi An's exposed neck, gently kneading.
Like teasing, yet also like loving.
"Ah!"
A sharp cry of pain interrupted the creature's more aggressive actions. The other's hand reluctantly pulled away. Qi An's expression remained calm, though a chill flickered in his eyes.
He glanced again at the ice coffin containing his own corpse, then turned his gaze to Wang Xiangqun.
On the latter's right hand resting on the coffin, a green flame had appeared—green and eerie like the legendary ghostly fire. Within the flickering flames, a skull-like specter face was faintly visible, the uncanny tongues of fire creeping upward. In almost an instant, they had already climbed to Wang Xiangqun's elbow.
Something resembling corpse oil dripped down from his arm.
Dripping onto the floor.
Corroding the ground into a depression.
Even Zhang Zhaoqi had changed color at the sight. He quickly retrieved a sword from his system space and slashed downward toward Wang Xiangqun's right arm.
Some shadows that hadn't been visible before flickered near the coffin.
Wang Xiangqun's ravaged right arm fell to the ground, leaving a scorched black mark on the floor. Jin Huijuan had no mood to comfort Wang Xiangqun for losing another arm. She leaped toward the pale-faced young man, applied medicine to his bleeding wound, then ran to Zhang Zhaoqi's side.
The shadows drifted haphazardly in all directions. Jin Huijuan gestured for a retreat.
Qi An and the others slowly moved toward the entrance.
They made it smoothly to the door. Those shadows merely hovered like afterimages, tightly surrounding the coffin. Jin Huijuan exhaled in relief and told Zhang Zhaoqi to open the door.
But the moment the door was pushed open, countless specters suddenly rushed forward. Through the thick black mist surrounding them, Qi An and the others could see their blood-red eyes and sharp fangs.
Their gazes were fierce, like enraged guardians whose treasure had been coveted.
"Retreat!"
Jin Huijuan shouted, moving first to try and escape the doorway. But before she could react, the fast-moving mist surrounded them. Within that dense fog, everyone lost their sense of direction. Cold white frost appeared on their bodies. They could only shiver and run based on instinct.
Stumbling and staggering, they left the doorway.
When the disorienting mist finally dissipated, Jin Huijuan—who had barely escaped—wiped the sweat from her forehead. Just as she was trying to steady her racing heart, she noticed that the two statues that had shown no movement before had come alive, each raising a broadsword ready to strike at her.
Cursing mentally, Jin Huijuan had no time to worry about the others, using her fastest pace to sprint down the corridor.
She looked around, and her face instantly drained of color.
This palace, which had been free of any specters when they arrived, was now filled with dense clusters of shadows. Their forms varied wildly, frantically gathering wherever they stood.
This was going to be a fierce battle.
Qi An stood quietly inside, raising an eyebrow. These specters avoided him as they gave chase.
The door remained open. Besides the three who had run out, a mass of specters followed close behind. When the last wisps of black energy slipped out through the door gap, the door finally closed again.
Qi An's dark eyes gazed quietly at the door, a strange light flickering in his gaze.
—Just now, Zhang Zhaoqi didn't seem affected by that thick mist. He had looked at him.
Just as he thought this, Qi An felt something wet and cold gently brush against his throat, sucking delicately as if savoring a delicious treat.
Carrying a heavy undertone of seduction.
It was that person from before.
Qi An felt a sturdy, strong arm wrap around his shoulder.
The strength used was both powerful and gentle.
—Like holding onto something that belonged to him.
Something let out a soft laugh, filled with deep satisfaction and joy.
Qi An stopped playing the weak act. Blue light flickered in his dark pupils. He turned his head to look, pulling off the thing clinging to him.
The creature wore armor. Its originally handsome face wore an expression of injury, as if accusing Qi An of heartlessness. Looking pitiful, it clung to him again. But before it could get close once more, Qi An stepped back several paces.
"Who are you?"
Qi An's voice was cold, his beautiful brows and eyes regarding it emotionlessly. The real Qi An, having shed his disguise, bore a faint resemblance to the person in the ice coffin.
"You actually don't recognize me?" The armored specter widened its eyes, full of disbelief. "We share such a deep, deep connection—how could you bear to forget?"
While saying this, it gestured, spreading its wide arms to draw an enormous circle.
Seeing that Qi An remained that cold, emotionless way, it showed pitiful, puppy-like eyes, wet and glistening. "I'm your husband."
Qi An looked at it with icy eyes.
"You can't have forgotten, can you?" Its handsome face wilted like a withered plant. It chattered on and on, "We had a marriage contract—properly arranged with a matchmaker. You were so small and thin back then, soft and pliant, calling me husband, we..."
Qi An furrowed his brows. Something vague in his memories gradually became clear.
In his previous life... he had held a ghost wedding.
He could see ghosts from childhood. Because his yin energy was too heavy, misfortune clung to him. Under his family's arrangement, he married a ghost to suppress this curse.
But he had never met that one.
Nor had he done anything as ridiculous as what this specter was describing.
Until... he died.
And became an employee of the Fast-Travel Bureau.
"Even if it were true, that was only the previous life." Qi An looked at the creature lost in its fantasies, giggling foolishly, and said emotionlessly.
"You, you, you..." It clutched Qi An in disbelief, pulling the latter into its arms. "How could you do this—absolutely not! I won't accept!"