Chapter 72
Chapter 72
Late at night, fog rose through the wilderness. The glowing eyes of beasts appeared and vanished within it, vicious and greedy. They seemed to have gone hungry for too long and yearned for a feast.
Qiao Ying thought she heard them salivating. Held in the young man’s arms, she also heard bones crunch beneath each of his steps.
This place resembled a burial ground of bleached remains. Bones lay everywhere, enough to suggest how many people had died here and how much baleful energy their wronged souls had produced. That energy had lingered for years, darkening the sky and frightening even corpse collectors away.
Crows cried. Every stir of wind through grass hinted at unknown danger. Qiao Ying tightened her arms around Shen Qingyu’s neck and clung to him without the smallest gap.
Shen Qingyu laughed happily. Lowering his face, he nuzzled her hair. “Don’t be afraid. We’ve reached my home.”
Qiao Ying wanted to ask whether his house had been built upon a mass grave, but that seemed impolite, so she forced the question down.
Farther ahead, a tall estate gradually emerged from the fog.
The black paint on its great doors had long since peeled away. Rust covered the iron rings like old bloodstains. Wind and rain had eroded the plaque above them until only twisted marks remained, resembling elongated ghostly faces.
The character Shen could still barely be seen.
“This is your… home?” Qiao Ying asked uncertainly.
Shen Qingyu nodded brightly. “My family is very lazy and doesn’t know how to maintain the estate, but they are all good people. They will certainly like you.”
She could tell he was trying to reassure her, but the explanation only unsettled her more.
After Shen Qingyu set her down, her first instinct was to turn and leave. A hand hooked the back of her collar and stopped her.
From behind, the young man asked with courteous gentleness, “What is it, Yingying?”
A chill spread across her back. “I think meeting your elders now would be too hasty. I should buy gifts and return during daylight.”
“There’s no need. My family has few rules.”
“No, no. Etiquette is important.”
The hand on her collar tightened. Qiao Ying spun around and fell against his chest. Looking up, she saw the smiling, exquisite face of a modest gentleman.
“Yingying, don’t be nervous.” After thinking, he added, “Even an ugly bride must meet her in-laws eventually.”
Wherever he had learned the saying, using it now made the absurd situation almost comical.
The gate creaked open a crack.
Shen Qingyu smiled in satisfaction. “My family knew I was bringing you. They came to welcome us.”
As he spoke, the black, claw-marked doors slowly opened. A freezing current rushed out, colder than the damp night.
“Qingyu has returned.”
“Qingyu has returned.”
“Qingyu is home.”
“Qingyu is home.”
Four or five rows of people stood inside: men and women, old and young, arranged neatly as though they had waited for hours.
They did not move. Like rigid statues, all wore black. Most eerie of all, each one smiled, not with a genuine smile, but with the same curve seemingly carved into every face.
Their voices rose and fell in an identical tone, endlessly copied.
The white-haired young man in blue smiled gently. “I brought Yingying home.”
At once, every greeting stopped. In perfect unison, the figures turned to Qiao Ying. Their eyes were empty and cold as bottomless winter pools, yet curved into smiles.
Shen Qingyu stepped forward holding Qiao Ying’s hand. When she did not move with him, he lowered his face and asked thoughtfully, “Yingying, would you like me to carry you?”
Qiao Ying forced the corners of her mouth to move. “No, thank you.”
Their fingers remained interlaced as he gently tugged her hand.
She had no choice but to cross the threshold. Cold air attacked from every direction, making her legs tremble. In this eerie place, the young man holding her hand became her only source of warmth.
“Second Uncle, this is Yingying.”
A mustached man stared at her and raised the corners of his mouth. “Yingying.”
“Mama Song, this is Yingying.”
A woman in her forties looked directly at her, her eyes curving. “Yingying.”
“Little brother, little sister, this is Yingying.”
A boy and girl holding hands smiled together. “Yingying.”
Shen Qingyu led Qiao Ying slowly forward. He introduced her to every person they passed. It resembled less an introduction than a display, showing everyone the girl who liked him.
“Sworn Younger Brother, this is Yingying.”
A boy of sixteen or seventeen had deathly pale skin. Perhaps his eyes were damaged, for they were empty and dull. Yet he smiled too. “Yingying.”
Finally, Shen Qingyu stopped before a married couple. “Father, Mother, this is Yingying.”
The pair appeared to be in their thirties. Though equally bloodless, their features remained distinguished. Wearing the same smile as everyone else, they spoke together.
“Yingying.”
When the wind blew, everyone’s hair stirred, but not a single person blinked. Their smiles remained fixed at that unnatural angle, as though cruel strings held up the corners of their mouths.
Perhaps sensing the cold in Qiao Ying’s hands, Shen Qingyu caught both and tucked them inside his robe to warm them. He bent down and asked with a smile, “Yingying, my family is easy to get along with, isn’t it?”
Night lay across the estate like spilled ink. The white-haired young man’s blue robes moved in the wind, and the white silk blindfold over his eyes looked dazzlingly clean. His perfectly carved smile was no different from those of the figures surrounding him.
Amid the ghostly air, his beauty appeared almost demonic.
When she did not answer, he poked her cheek. “Yingying, what’s wrong?”
Strangely, that poke made her feel grounded in the mortal world again.
Afraid to look around, Qiao Ying stared only at him. “I feel like a scholar who wandered into a Ghost Realm in a story. A beauty will seduce me, drain my vital essence, and kill me.”
Shen Qingyu laughed and gathered her into his arms. He stroked her back and nuzzled her hair in intimate reassurance.
“Yingying likes me so much. How could I bear to let you die?”
The surrounding figures saw nothing strange in Shen Qingyu embracing her. They slowly approached, speaking one after another.
“Yingying likes Qingyu.”
“Yingying likes Qingyu so much.”
“Yingying truly likes Qingyu.”
“Yingying will always like Qingyu.”
Qiao Ying grabbed Shen Qingyu’s robe and covered her eyes with it. “Shen Qingyu.”
The young man stroked her hair. “I’m here.”
“Is there something wrong with your family?”
“What could be wrong?” he asked gently.
Keeping her eyes closed, Qiao Ying pointed. “Half that man’s head is missing. Didn’t you see?”
At the edge of the crowd, a mutilated body tried to blend in. Half his head was gone, but the remaining half of his mouth kept chanting “Yingying” with the others.
The young man tilted his head innocently. “Yingying, I cannot see.”
Qiao Ying fell silent.
His logic was impeccable.