Chapter 137
Chapter 137
In the silence, something cracked behind him.
Qiao Yu’s back instantly stiffened. Reflected in the tiles, he saw the male Ghost who had filmed with him earlier.
The Ghost stared directly at him and smiled sinisterly. “Found you. Mine… You’re mine now.”
A crowd of ghosts might be hard to kill, but what was one isolated Ghost doing, playing the obsessive lover with him?
Qiao Yu had endured enough. Fury burned in his chest until he laughed.
When the corpse-spotted hand reached toward him, he advanced and seized its arm instead.
He was not a germaphobe. So what if it was a little cold and stiff?
The male Ghost kept smiling, one hard finger stroking the back of Qiao Yu’s hand.
Qiao Yu yanked the arm forward, slammed the Ghost against the sink, dispensed soap, and rubbed it into his eyes. “Mine, my ass! Is something wrong with all your eyes? Do I have to wash them for you personally?”
The Ghost struggled and wailed. Unmoved, Qiao Yu even rinsed the foam from his face.
Running water blended with the quiet rattle of a chain slipping through the doorway, the sounds remarkably alike.
With a cold smile, Qiao Yu kicked the wilted Ghost into the corner beside the skeleton to face the wall and reflect on his mistakes.
Only then did his anger ease. He shook the water from his hands, turned to close the door, and abruptly stopped.
The young man outside had lost all the jewels from his hair. Silken black strands poured loose and rippled in the breeze. Ordinarily, Qiao Yu might have gone over to tease him, but now…
Shang Yan looked frightening.
No-terrifying.
His amber eyes, like agate, were unfocused. Their reddened corners did not look pitiful, but hinted at a hidden… madness.
“Why are you hiding here?”
He entered the cramped bathroom, his throat hoarse. His voice held neither excitement nor anger.
Its calmness inspired panic.
Qiao Yu glanced outside and forced a smile. “I just found somewhere to hide…”
His breath caught, silencing him.
The ankle secretly edging toward the door had been caught by waiting silver links and dragged back.
“Are you hiding from me?” Shang Yan stepped closer. The already tiny bathroom was crowded with two humans and two ghosts.
“I’m not hiding from you. I’m hiding from ghosts.” Qiao Yu swallowed and instinctively leaned back. Just before he touched the male Ghost, an arm pulled him forward.
The world spun. Shang Yan locked Qiao Yu against him from behind and rested his chin on Qiao Yu’s shoulder.
He did nothing else. He merely held both Qiao Yu’s hands beneath the faucet.
Qiao Yu’s heart raced. “What are you doing?”
Shang Yan’s voice remained calm. “Helping you wash them clean.”
Water poured over Qiao Yu’s hands. Long, jointed fingers slid between his and rubbed his palms again and again.
Faint veins rose along Shang Yan’s wrist from the force. The end of his radius stood out, crowned by one crystalline drop. For a moment, it was impossible to tell whether the water or his hands were cleaner.
In any other setting, those hands would have fulfilled every fantasy of someone with a hand fetish.
After a long while, Qiao Yu’s smile disappeared. His raven-feather lashes lowered with a tremble. “Shang Yan, you’re hurting me.”
The force restraining him abruptly loosened. Clarity returned briefly to Shang Yan’s unfocused amber eyes, regret flashing through his pupils.
Shang Yan opened his mouth, but at this moment, anything he said would sound hollow.
The unlocked door slowly opened. In the mirror, they saw the crazed, wailing Ghosts outside.
Like hyenas drawn by a scent, they could not be shaken off.
Current Charm: 100%
Qiao Yu was sick of it. Utterly sick of it!
Rather than endure this mad obsession, he would prefer the old days when he was rejected and exiled again and again…
The rustling demands outside even warped the smooth mirror into distorted ridges. Qiao Yu was tired beyond words.
Shang Yan looked down at the irritated, exhausted man. His heart suddenly ached. The terrifying urge to cage and imprison Qiao Yu dissolved.
At the same time, heavy violence settled over his beautiful features. He looked coldly at the waiting Ghosts outside and smiled. “Want to come closer? Try it.”
While Qiao Yu held every Ghost’s attention, Luo Yunmeng and the others raced through the Prince of Lanling’s Residence, searching the prop department, bedrooms, and gardens.
They truly found a great deal.
There were secret letters between the empress and Tao Zhuyue, and evidence that Tao Zhuyue had genuinely fallen in love with the Prince of Lanling and planned to stop the assassination.
They also learned the empress had acted alone. The person behind the attack on the prince… was the empress herself.
In a storage room, they found a discarded “imperial decree” announcing the empress’s ascension as sovereign and the kingdom’s reduction to a vassal of Nanzhao.
They guessed the Prince of Lanling’s death had devastated the emperor. While he drifted through grief, Nanzhao launched a coup…
That was the true main plot of Imperial City Storm. Unfortunately, the script had been twisted beyond recognition.
Luo Yunmeng frowned anxiously at Zuo Qingquan. “How do we pull the script back now?”
Zuo Qingquan gave a dry laugh. “Never mind that this isn’t our profession. Even the original scriptwriter has given up treatment.”
Why else would every script tell the leads to improvise without giving them a single line?
This was hopeless.
The three sat together, yet combined they could not equal one hair on Zhuge Liang’s head. They worried until their own hair nearly turned white.
A freezing wind suddenly struck, sweeping up dead leaves and dust until they could barely open their eyes.
Sounds of fighting erupted nearby. Luo Yunmeng shielded her brow and peeked through narrowed eyes.
Two red blurs fought fiercely in the distance, one striking with claws, the other with sleeves, neither yielding.
Where had this malicious ghost come from now?!
The Pen Spirit knocked away the Bridal Ghost’s sharp sleeve with one hand and kicked high with a long leg beneath her blood-red qipao. The Bridal Ghost reacted quickly and floated backward, avoiding the attack.
But she was already showing fatigue. Just as the Pen Spirit pressed forward, her white eyes snapped toward the trio’s hiding place.
Before Luo Yunmeng could react, red cloth wrapped around her neck and yanked her through the air.
She forgot to scream. Five scarlet streaks arrived immediately…
She closed her eyes and cried inwardly.
I’m finished. My face is ruined this time.
But the expected pain never came. Belatedly, she opened her eyes. Five scarlet nails hovered less than a centimeter from her face, shining with a razor edge.
Luo Yunmeng sucked in a cold breath, her teeth chattering in terror.
The Pen Spirit glanced at her, then stared coldly at the Bridal Ghost using Luo Yunmeng as a shield. “Lu Xun once said: if you can’t win, surrender. This is just unsporting.”