“Stay calm. With Qiaoqiao here, everything will be fine.” Li Shaoxing’s reassurance was meant to soothe, but Jian Lanxin, unaware of Li Qiao’s true capabilities, grew visibly agitated.
“What does she even know?”
“Li Qiao knows far more than you think, Jian Lanxin. Listen to her arrangements—something big is going to happen tonight.”
Shen Kuo, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke up.
The wait lasted until nightfall.
When Steward Zhao reappeared, he invited them to the rear hall for dinner. On the way, Jian Lanxin noticed an eerie silence in the air—accompanied by a chilling gust of wind. Uneasy, she clenched her fingers.
By the time they arrived, Mr. and Mrs. Zhao had already set a table. Their smiles deepened as the three entered.
“Please, have a seat,” Mr. Zhao said warmly.
Jian Lanxin observed that the rear hall was vast. Directly ahead, a tall curtain hung from the ceiling, obscuring whatever lay behind it.
Noticing their attention fixed on the curtain, Mr. Zhao’s smile widened.
Li Shaoxing and Shen Kuo exchanged a glance. Both felt the talismans at their waists grow scorching hot, and their expressions stiffened.
Once seated, they found the Zhao couple’s grins increasingly unsettling.
“Why aren’t you drinking? Try this—it’s our family’s secret recipe for red wine.”
Mr. Zhao personally poured the wine. The liquid was crimson, almost like blood.
A faint whisper of wind brushed past their ears.
The heat at their waists intensified. Li Shaoxing discreetly pulled out a talisman, and after a silent exchange with Shen Kuo, both raised their cups.
The moment they caught the triumphant gleam in the Zhaos’ eyes, their expressions darkened. In unison, they flung the wine at the couple.
The red liquid splashed over them like fresh blood.
“You—you knew?” Mr. Zhao snarled.
“Enough nonsense! Where’s the ghost bride? And where’s my brother’s marriage contract?”
Jian Lanxin had long dropped the act. Fear and anxiety churned inside her.
Mrs. Zhao shrieked, “Madam! Come out now! Today, we’ve found you two new grooms—and a maid!”
A maid?
Jian Lanxin exploded. “You’re the maid! Your whole family are maids!”
“You wretched girl! Still running your mouth even at death’s door!” Mrs. Zhao sneered.
In an instant, a frigid wind howled through the hall.
Li Shaoxing and Shen Kuo flung talismans at the ghost bride. The papers clung to her like glue, searing into her skin and face.
“Ah—!”
The ghost bride wailed in agony as the talismans burned. The onlookers stared in shock.
Her face began peeling away, revealing her true visage—a grotesque, disfigured specter. Her left eye was an empty socket, while the right drooped grotesquely down her cheek, the crimson pupil fixed hatefully on the trio.
It was hideous.
Disgusting.
“You ruined everything! None of you are leaving alive!”
“Li Qiao, save us!” Shen Kuo bellowed.
The ghost bride lunged, crashing into Li Shaoxing. With a revolting, twisted smile, she crooned, “My handsome groom…”
“Ugh—!”
Dozens of talismans shot through the front door, swirling around the ghost bride like a storm. The searing pain forced her into another ear-splitting shriek, echoing through the Zhao residence.
Terrified, she gaped at Li Qiao, who now stood at the entrance.
“You—you’re a Celestial Master!”
“Even with those rotten eyes, you can still tell. Impressive.”
Li Qiao studied her with detached amusement.
For a moment, the ghost bride couldn’t tell if that was praise or an insult.
Li Qiao’s arrival was their salvation. Li Shaoxing and the others quickly huddled behind her.
“Celestial Master, we have no quarrel. Stay out of my affairs.”
“Nice words. But you never should’ve forced a living man into a ghost marriage.”
The ghost bride pleaded, “Celestial Master, I’ve been lonely for a century. Is it wrong to want a husband? I truly love Jian Lang!”
Her grotesque face twisted into something resembling shyness at the mention of Jian Lanfeng.
The sight was nauseating.
“My brother is a living man! He’ll never be a ghost groom. Li Qiao, kill her!” Jian Lanxin’s face was pale with guilt and fear.
The ghost bride flew into a rage.
Unmoved, Li Qiao coldly retorted, “You’ve taken dozens of lives—all your ‘grooms,’ I assume. With sins like yours, I won’t let you exist.”
“Fine! If that’s how it is, I won’t hold back!”
Realizing negotiation was futile, the ghost bride unleashed her full spectral power.
“So strong…” Li Qiao mused.
“Li Qiao, your challenge is here! Deal with her!” Jian Lanxin shouted.
Li Qiao stood her ground. As the ghost bride’s claws slashed toward her—
A blinding golden light erupted, blasting the ghost bride backward.
She crashed to the ground, horror dawning in her eyes.
“How—? Who are you?! You’re no ordinary Celestial Master!”
Li Qiao stepped forward, smiling. “I am a Celestial Master…”
“You can’t kill me! If I die, Jian Lang dies too!”
The marriage contract—she’d never dissolve it.
“Contracts mean nothing to me. Jiang Feng!”
Jiang Feng entered, carrying an urn.
Li Qiao grinned. “Recognize this?”
“You—you dug up my grave?!”
“Yep. And now, I’ll destroy your remains.”
With a single strike of her peachwood sword, the urn shattered, bones crumbling to dust.
The ghost bride froze in utter disbelief.
Leaning down, Li Qiao whispered something only the ghost bride could hear.
A second later, the ghost bride screamed in terror.
“No… NO—!”
Li Qiao turned, driving her sword through the ghost bride’s heart.
Before everyone’s eyes, the ghost bride dissolved into mist.
Silence.
Deafening silence.
Li Qiao glanced around. “What? Not entertaining enough?”
Everyone: “…”
Her gaze then landed on the trembling Zhao couple.
“The Zhao family’s prosperity ends today.”
With that, she yanked down the curtain, revealing rows of ancestral tablets.
“This… this is horrifying,” Jian Lanxin muttered.
Eating in front of their ancestors’ spirits? These people were deranged.
Li Qiao stared coldly at the tablets.
“Complicit in evil. No point keeping you around.”
A talisman flew from her hand. A bolt of lightning struck, reducing the tablets to ash.
Satisfied, she strode out.
Behind her, the Zhaos’ panicked cries filled the air.
In the courtyard, Jian Lanfeng noticed the dark red mark on his wrist had vanished.
He knew—Li Qiao had succeeded.
“Li Qiao, you all…”
Li Shaoxing, Shen Kuo, and Jian Lanxin were hunched over trees, vomiting.
Jiang Feng handed them tissues with a look of disgust.
“Li Youwei, where do you think you’re going?”
Li Qiao’s voice cut through the garden, freezing the figure trying to sneak away.
