Chapter 1: Corpse

“Stupid woman, you’re a valuable plaything I’ve nurtured for years. Trying to run? Ha… dreaming!”

As that familiar sinister chuckle echoed behind her, Leng You, who was desperately fleeing, stiffened reflexively. She was completely unaware that her lower lip was once again bitten until the salty blood in her mouth stimulated a nerve, allowing her to resume her frantic escape.

The alley mouth was less than a hundred meters ahead, and beyond it lay the main road.

Although Wang Zicheng’s power was vast, Leng You knew from years of understanding that he hadn’t yet reached the point where he could control Pingdu City.

As long as she cried for help on the main road, there would be a glimmer of hope. Not for this life she no longer cherished, but a desperate attempt to drag Wang Zicheng down to hell with her.

“Damn bitch, you’re still running? Stop, or I’ll get rough!” Wang Zicheng’s voice changed from disdain to furious frustration. Clearly, he had guessed Leng You’s intentions.

Leng You ignored him, running even harder.

“Damn it, you’re asking for it! Trying to kill me? Next life!”

Bang…

Before he finished speaking, a gunshot shattered the air. Leng You’s body, pierced through the chest, flew through the air.

A lightness permeated her body, accompanied by a long-awaited release. Leng You’s cascading hair and gushing blood mingled into a gruesome picture, like the last fallen leaf of late autumn, swirling towards the ground.

The heavy impact with the ground didn’t register as pain in her brain. The only thing persistently clamoring in her scattered consciousness was Leng You’s deep resentment and unwillingness.

Although she could barely control her failing body, her bloodshot eyes, now darkly intense, stared unblinkingly at the approaching demon. If her gaze could be a blade, she would have carved him to pieces.

“You… bitch, where’s the thing? Hand it over!” Stunned by the hateful gaze, Wang Zicheng felt a chilling coldness shoot up his spine, stopping him in his tracks in terror.

“Wang Zicheng, you… are you afraid? Ha… be prepared, come to… hell… with me!” Leng You spoke with difficulty, her voice weak, a torrent of blood gushing from her mouth.

“With you? Die… Bang!” Just as Wang Zicheng was about to pull the trigger again, another gunshot rang out, a bullet piercing his forehead.

Leng You’s eyes widened. The scene of Wang Zicheng—the demon who had ruined her life—collapsing without a sound, was clearly imprinted in her mind.

Between dreams and reality, a familiar yet unfamiliar call accompanied a tall figure appearing nearby, “Youyou!”

Then, her body was embraced in a broad chest.

Leng You could barely lift her eyes.

“It’s… it’s you!” Seeing the cold and handsome face, an indescribable bitterness welled up in her eyes.

“I’m sorry! I’m late. I’ll take you to the hospital now.” Looking at Leng You, covered in blood and barely breathing, the man’s cold voice was full of guilt. He lifted her into his arms.

“No… no, it’s… it’s no use.

Li… listen to me, it’s… it’s… my fault. I… I… let you down.

It’s… it’s a pity… I… I don’t have a chance to make amends.

Th… this…”

Wah, another large mouthful of blood spurted out, staining the man’s clothes.

Leng You’s consciousness faded further, her vision turning black. Her weakened arm could only allow her to slightly twitch her fingers.

“Is this it?” The man, acutely perceptive, untied a tightly bound, blood-soaked cloth bundle from Leng You’s waist.

“This… this…” Leng You could only gasp, unable to speak.

“Evidence against Wang Zicheng’s gang?

Don’t worry, none of them will escape.”

The man opened the bundle. Inside was a thick notebook, stained with blood, and several floppy disks in sealed bags. He instantly understood Leng You’s meaning.

Leng You: …

She looked directly into the man’s eyes and moved her lips slightly.

A few seconds later, her head tilted, her life ending in the man’s arms, her arm slowly slipping from his neck.

But her bloodshot pupils, like burning glass, remained wide open, accusingly staring at the world where she had lived for twenty-nine years.

The man’s lips tightened, icy coldness flashing in his deep eyes.

He read the two words Leng You wanted to say—“Thank you”—and saw the resentment, sadness, and unwillingness in her unclosed eyes.

“I will get justice for you.” The man’s long hand gently rested on Leng You’s cold face.

The eyes under his palm finally closed slowly.

But what followed made the man’s eyes narrow. A wisp of pale purple light emanated from the inside of Leng You’s wrist, where her hand had rested on his neck.

To his surprise, the light grew larger, its color deepening into dark purple. As the purple mist rose, it enveloped them both.

“Crack!” A sudden thunderclap split the clear sky, lightning striking the purple mist. The purple light intensified, then vanished without a trace.

Only the man remained, kneeling there holding Leng You’s stiff body, a rare expression of bewilderment on his usually cold face.

“Third Young Master!” His subordinate’s voice pulled the man back to his usual cold demeanor.

“What did you see?” The man’s voice held an intimidating authority.

“I… I saw you… staring blankly.” The subordinate replied nervously, with a hint of curiosity.

The man looked down at Leng You, who showed no signs of life, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Retreat!”

…

Leng You felt herself bound within a glowing purple mist, which made her whole body burn.

As the mist thickened, the temperature rose, becoming scorching hot, burning her insides until her whole body felt like it was on fire.

Even her soul was blasted away by the intense heat, drifting away. Just as she was about to completely leave her body, the purple light suddenly intensified, tightly wrapping around her soul, then shooting into the inside of Leng You’s right wrist.

The burning sensation turned into excruciating pain, pain in every inch of her bones and every nerve.

Leng You struggled desperately, screaming, but the restraints held her immobile.

Suddenly, a sword beam, like one forged from ancient snow mountains, slashed down, severing all the restraints on Leng You, making her feel light and finally free.

“Awake!”

A voice, belonging to a boy on the verge of puberty, sounded in her ear. Leng You slowly opened her eyes, her brain blank.

Xiang Wentian? Third Young Master Xiang San? And a younger version?

She was sure because this version of him was deeply etched in Leng You’s memory, a special, warm presence in her life.

What was going on? Wasn’t she already dead? Dead in Third Young Master Xiang’s arms. But Xiang Wentian would have been thirty-six then!

Was this hell? Heaven? Or a dream?

She moved her eyes. The sky was gray, with large snowflakes falling.

“Can you move?” Xiang Wentian’s heart pounded faster as he crouched lower, a hint of surprise on his still slightly childish face.

A body covered in blood, lifeless… how could it suddenly open its eyes?