“This is…”

The person behind her spoke in an unnaturally slow, strained voice.

At that moment, Hua Zhuo caught a scent—

A thick, overwhelming stench of blood, mixed with something so putrid it made her stomach churn.

A blood-soaked, long-haired arm reached over, pointing toward the lip balm sitting on her dressing table.

A tiny, misshapen hand extended from that grotesque limb.

“What is this, sister?”

Cold sweat drenched Hua Zhuo’s back. She didn’t dare turn her head.

Her instincts screamed at her—if she saw its face, something irreversible would happen.

How did the ghost get inside?! Weren’t Xu Ruyi’s protective spells supposed to keep them out? He wasn’t this incompetent in the original story!

Luckily for Hua Zhuo, she was the type who became even calmer the more terrified she was.

The person behind her… might really like pretty things.

The first time Hua Zhuo saw it, it had been wearing tiny red embroidered shoes. Now, it had come dressed in Ting Lan’s clothes.

Ting Lan’s father was a tailor, and he made beautiful outfits for his daughter. This ghost probably hadn’t found Hua Zhuo’s clothes, so it had chosen Ting Lan’s instead. And now, it was asking about the lip balm on her table.

That must mean… It was a ghost that loved to dress up.

Yes! That’s it!

She just had to treat it like… like a little girl who liked pretty things!

A cute, fashion-loving little girl!

Her appearance… was just a little different from other children’s. That was all. No discrimination! No fear! That was the mindset she needed to have!

“Y-yes, yes…”

Hua Zhuo hadn’t expected her voice to stammer this badly. Two simple words, yet they nearly got stuck in her throat.

She forced a smile, keeping her gaze locked on the carved lotus patterns on the lip balm container.

“T-this… It’s very, very pretty. I’ll… I’ll give it to you, okay?”

It was over.

The tears were about to fall.

Hua Zhuo’s hands trembled violently, as if she had been electrocuted. She picked up the lip balm container and handed it over.

“R-really?”

“Really?”

“Sister… Will you really… give it to me?”

The voice behind her was strange—slow, sticky, and unnatural. It didn’t sound like a little girl at all. It sounded like a creature without gender.

“O-o-of course!”

Hua Zhuo’s eyes were wide open, doing everything she could to hold back her tears.

Seeing that it didn’t move, she stretched out a finger—just barely touching the person’s hand behind her.

Ice-cold.

But unlike Liang Shanyuan’s pure chill, this one carried a sinister, clammy slickness. The skin beneath the long fur was unsettlingly soft, like a loose sheet of flesh draped over… something. It sent shivers down her spine.

It’s over.

The tears were really about to fall.

Hua Zhuo quickly placed the lip balm container into its palm.

“Oh! Oh dear, sister’s eyes feel… a little uncomfortable! Cute little one, wait a moment; let your sister rub her eyes first, okay?”

She swiftly wiped her tears away with her sleeve.

She couldn’t show fear. She must not show fear.

The person behind her didn’t speak.

For a long time, there was only silence—until she suddenly heard Liang Shanyuan’s voice.

“Seventh Aunt—”

The voice trailed off as if there was more left unsaid.

Then—bam!

The door was pushed open.

Hua Zhuo couldn’t believe it. She had survived. Cold sweat drenched her entire body. She turned her head in disbelief—behind her, nothing. Not a trace. Even the lip balm container was gone.

Before she could steady herself, a thick, greasy aroma of food wafted past her nose.

She looked up—only to see the madwoman, Liang Mengshi, grinning foolishly as she placed a large porcelain bowl in front of her.

Behind her, Liang Shanyuan had just arrived, and quickly blocked her path.

“Seventh Aunt, I’ve told you—she is not Liang Hai!”

Ting Lan, still sobbing, rushed to Hua Zhuo’s side protectively.

Hua Zhuo sat there, dazed, unsure of what was happening.

Liang Mengshi, still smiling like a fool, pushed the bowl toward her.

“Good boy, don’t be scared, don’t be scared… Eat, eat it, and you’ll be smart. Smarter than Liang Shiqi, smarter than Liang Shanren—not worse, not worse at all!”

Inside the bowl—

Monkey brains.

Her voice was hoarse and desperate.

Hua Zhuo instinctively lowered her gaze—only to see several twisted monkey brains floating in the thick, milky-white porridge. The steaming broth soaked into their crevices, making them glisten with an unsettling sheen.

“Ah!”

She nearly leaped out of her skin in shock.

Ting Lan finally reacted as well, hurriedly wrapping her arms around Hua Zhuo, her voice sharp with panic.

“Where did this crazy woman come from?! Get out! Get out now! Hurry up and get lost!”

“Good boy! Good boy! Mother isn’t crazy! Mother isn’t crazy at all! Eat this, and the god of literature will bless you! You’ll be brilliant! Good boy!”

“Seventh Aunt!”

Liang Shanyuan’s usually gentle and composed face carried a rare trace of exasperation. She grabbed Liang Mengshi’s arm.

At once, Liang Mengshi let out a piercing shriek, thrashing in resistance.

Liang Shanyuan applied more force, firmly guiding the shrieking woman out of the room.

“Seventh Aunt, she is really not Liang Hai. Liang Hai jumped into the pond last year—don’t you remember?”

The door shut behind them, leaving only the muffled sound of conversation outside.

Hua Zhuo felt like she had suffered repeated blows tonight, her mind teetering on the edge of collapse. Exhaustion weighed down her entire body, and her heart felt as though it were suspended by a fraying rope.

She didn’t dare sit in front of the dressing mirror. Instead, she paced back and forth in the room, unable to stay still.

Ting Lan, frightened but talkative as ever, bombarded her with questions.

“Miss, you have no idea! I was just walking when, out of nowhere, everything went black! Then it was like I was trapped in some ghostly maze—I couldn’t find my way out of the forest! When I finally got back to Huaiguang Pavilion, I saw you talking to someone in the room! I was scared to death! Wuwuwu! How could this happen?!”

Hua Zhuo turned in a circle to the left.

“Miss, how could that ghost pretend to be human? That’s just too terrifying!”

Hua Zhuo turned in a circle to the right.

“Miss, what should we do? Let’s go to the exorcists! We shouldn’t sleep in this room tonight!”

Hua Zhuo completed another loop around the room.

“Tsk—Miss, mmph—!”

Ting Lan’s words were abruptly cut off as Hua Zhuo grabbed her cheeks with both hands, making her mumble incoherently. After a moment, Hua Zhuo let go.

“Go back to my brother’s place? I just had a falling out with the Liang family! I’m not going anywhere! Aren’t the Liang family members even scarier than ghosts?”

Hua Zhuo was more annoyed than anyone. She paced around the room a few more times before finally sitting on the bed, then waved Ting Lan off to sleep in another room.

Seeing how frightened Ting Lan was, Hua Zhuo handed her a few of the talisman papers that Xu Ruyi had written for her. These papers could kill evil spirits when necessary, but they didn’t actually repel them—they only worked when actively used, requiring both skill and courage.

To be honest, after witnessing Xu Ruyi’s lackluster abilities firsthand, Hua Zhuo wasn’t feeling very confident in his talismans anymore.

In the original story, Xu Ruyi was supposed to be really powerful!

How did he end up this weak?!

Could it be that the original novel really had issues? That reality didn’t match what she remembered?

Hua Zhuo’s doubts mostly revolved around Liang Shanyuan.

She genuinely felt that Liang Shanyuan’s temperament didn’t seem bad at all…

The fact that she was a ghost—that part was undeniably true. In the original novel, Liang Shanyuan didn’t need sleep or food, so she had probably seen Liang Mengshi bringing her the monkey brains and followed out of concern.

And the ‘ghost’ in her room earlier had most likely disappeared the moment it heard Liang Shanyuan’s voice.

She was a good person!

… But what if?

What if, just like how the novel exaggerated Xu Ruyi’s supposed genius, the claim that Liang Shanyuan was a murderous ghost was also false?

What if she wasn’t actually evil at all?

Hua Zhuo was caught in doubt but didn’t come to a conclusion.

Regardless of Liang Shanyuan’s true nature, she had no intention of becoming friends with her. Besides, the system had detected her murderous intent toward her. Most importantly, Liang Shanyuan was the original Hua Zhuo’s enemy! Insulting Liang Shanyuan daily was a mandatory task—missing even one day would cost her karmic merit!

She was already feeling drowsy when she finally saw a slender silhouette approaching from outside, where only tree shadows had been swaying moments before.

“Knock, knock.”

Two light taps echoed through the night.

“Lady Hua Zhuo, are you alright? I truly apologize for the trouble caused by my family tonight.”

The voice outside was warm and gentle, carrying a jade-like clarity that blurred the distinction between male and female—a voice that was extremely pleasant to the ear.

Hua Zhuo hugged the brocade quilt tighter against her chest, her voice slightly dry. “This lady is generous. I’ll forgive you.”

Outside, the soft voice paused briefly before responding with a hint of a amusement, as gentle as a spring breeze.

“Many thanks, Lady Hua Zhuo, for your understanding.”

“Come in and speak.”

Hua Zhuo buried her face in the brocade quilt.

The long night stretched on. She had been exhausted the whole day and just wanted a good night’s sleep—but now, she was too scared to close her eyes.

Having Ting Lan keep watch didn’t seem reliable. She didn’t trust Xu Ruyi’s talismans either. Meng Qiuci and Xu Ruyi were both in the main hall, but she didn’t want to go there.

After all the back and forth, the only one she could rely on tonight… was actually a ghost!

Hua Zhuo was practically on the verge of tears.

The carved wooden door was gently pushed open from the outside, spilling moonlight onto the floor. In the distance, willow tree shadows swayed with the night breeze.

A tall and slender woman in white stepped over the threshold, the hem of her dress trailing behind her. Her long black hair was unbound, cascading over her shoulders. Her face, clear and elegant, carried a soft gentleness. Standing at the doorway, her eyes slightly curved as she looked at Hua Zhuo.

Hua Zhuo choked on her words and stayed silent.

“Afraid?”

The ghost asked.

“Of course not!”

What a joke—how could she show fear in front of a ghost? In horror movies, the ones who were either too scared or completely fearless always died first!

Liang Shanyuan chuckled lightly and turned to leave. Hua Zhuo froze, quickly loosening her grip on the quilt. She hurriedly slipped on one shoe and called out, “Where are you going?”

“To fetch bedding. I’ll sleep on the floor and keep you company tonight.”

With one pale, slender hand resting on the door handle, Liang Shanyuan spoke in a voice that felt as warm as jade. “My room isn’t far. I’ll be back in the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.”

The carved wooden door closed.

Hua Zhuo’s toes tapped lightly against the floor as she retreated back to her bed, feeling a slight sense of shame at having her thoughts seen through so easily.

No wonder the original novel labeled Liang Shanyuan as a heart-eating evil spirit. This ghost was far too cunning, seeing through her like a mirror reflecting one’s soul.

“But… maybe… not necessarily…”

Hua Zhuo slowly hugged the brocade quilt tighter, pressing her face against it as she muttered to herself, “What if she’s actually not that bad…?”

*

The night grew colder, steeped in silence.

Except for the main hall, the Liang Manor was eerily empty, with only the white lanterns under the eaves swaying in the cold wind. A woman dressed in plain white robes walked along the corridor, holding a dark blue quilt in her arms. Her steps were measured, as if precisely calculated, making her resemble a wandering ghost drifting through the night.

She walked all the way to Huaiguang Pavilion but didn’t enter immediately. Instead, still holding the quilt, she circled around to the side entrance of the pavilion.

Lowering her gaze to the grass, she examined the surroundings. Around Huaiguang Pavilion, small wooden stakes had been planted into the ground, each wrapped with a red string, and every stake had a talisman affixed to it.

However, at the exact spot where Liang Shanyuan stood, a piece of ream meat had been buried under the most crucial talisman—the formation’s core. The flesh had already attracted swarms of ants, and the talisman, tainted by the filth of blood and grease, had been defiled, rendering the entire formation useless.

The woman’s face remained expressionless, as if she were a paper effigy; her skin was pale, and she had black eyes, and crimson lips. She lowered her gaze and casually dropped a few strands of hair onto the ground, ones she had plucked from Liang Mengshi’s head when escorting her away earlier.

Only then did her previously still, well-liked face ripple with a faint, shallow smile.

The ghost-tamer who had come likely practiced both Buddhist and Daoist teachings. The formation that man had set was indeed highly effective in warding off external spirits, but it was vulnerable to meat and blood, making it easy to break.

After all, ghosts detested raw flesh as well. This formation was meant solely to repel ghosts—perhaps it never occurred to its creator that a “human” from within the Liang Manor itself would dismantle it.

Treating that arrogant, noble young lady with such care and caution… well, it would only make things more convenient for him.

However, the wooden plaque hanging above the bed was truly an eyesore…

Liang Shanyuan frowned slightly.

*

Hua Zhuo sat on the bed, waiting. Several times, just as her drowsy eyelids were about to close, an inexplicable chill crept up her spine, startling her awake.

This back-and-forth left her physically and mentally drained. When she finally saw that figure in white step into the room,

Her sleepy eyes drooped, and she seemed a little dazed.

“Liang Shanyuan? You’re back? I’ve been waiting for you for so long…”

The girl’s voice was soft and frail with exhaustion. She rested against the brocade blanket in her arms, her dark hair flowing like water beneath the moonlight; she looked delicate and languid, almost like a sleepy kitten.

Liang Shanyuan paused at the sight, hesitated briefly, then turned to close the door.

---

TN:

i was a bit busy but I’m free now so lesssgoooooo 🎉