Chapter 1

It was rare to see Jiang Yinxue so thoroughly overcome.

The man was cold by nature, yet now his face was flushed as though he were drunk, a wash of red sweeping out from the corners of his eyes.

I pressed a finger to his lips and asked with a grin, “I have to know, Lord Jiang. Even now, can that wicked mouth of yours still come up with something cutting to say?”

His robes were in disarray. He lowered his eyes and met my gaze with lazy composure.

I had seized control of his body. He was face-to-face with an actual ghost.

And still he remained infuriatingly calm. It made me want to shatter that placid lake of his.

I frowned, leaned down, and bit him.

His breathing roughened. A muffled groan escaped him. “That is enough for tonight.”

Propping my head on one hand, I sprawled across him. “Have you misunderstood the situation, Lord Jiang? You’re the one at my mercy. You don’t get to decide when I’ve had enough.”

His mouth twitched. “Then drain me dry. I’ll follow you to the underworld and carry on our feud there.”

Jiang Yinxue gave a humorless laugh. “Your afterlife will never be dull again.”

More than half the month had passed, and I had coupled with him every night. The vital essence of his untouched pure-yang body had made my spirit increasingly solid. Jiang Yinxue deserved all the credit.

After careful thought, I floated off him.

“Then send a few other men in here. I’ll stop bothering you.”

Once Jiang Yinxue regained control of his body, he sat up and straightened his clothes. He swept the long hair hanging over his chest behind his shoulders. A few silver strands flashed amid the thick black and vanished again.

He looked at me. “Do I strike you as some great benefactor of mankind?”

I pursed my lips. I had known he would refuse. “Fine. You’re not.”

His gaze remained mild. “No, I am. The Buddha cut off his own flesh to feed an eagle. I keep you from preying on innocent men and offer myself to a hungry ghost instead. How does that not make me a saint?”

I rolled my eyes and disappeared into his bed while he extinguished the last lamp.

Silence settled over the room.

When I was alive, Jiang Yinxue had opposed me at every turn in court. He submitted memorial after memorial denouncing me, once declaring that my brain connected directly to my bowels and that I possessed three parts more sense than a pig or dog.

I had not been angry in the least. I had merely set his carriage horse loose, blocked his way home from court, and left him recuperating for three months.

Every official in the capital knew Jiang Yinxue and I could not stand each other. His Majesty once joked that such a pair of destined foes ought to marry. Jiang Yinxue promptly knelt outside Changde Hall for an entire morning.

He would rather have died than marry me.

Now his retribution had come. He could not refuse me. He could only let me feed on his essence.

He suffered all night, then dragged himself out of bed before dawn to attend morning court.

I tormented him until he looked haggard and even sprouted a few white hairs.

When he returned, he still had to attend to me. I floated nearby as he wearily undressed, plucked out one of those white hairs, and deliberately needled him.

“Lord Jiang, you’re getting old.”