As the sun dipped toward the horizon, Le Gui hesitated, reluctant to leave.

“How about I stay with you tonight?” she suggested to Juzi.

Juzi regarded her for a moment before suddenly rolling onto its back, exposing its belly.

That was a sign of welcome. Le Gui grinned and reached out to poke the fluffy ring of white fur on its rear. Then, she reconsidered.

“Better not. What if His Lordship enjoys the peace and decides to banish me for good? Sure, the lake is nice, but I’m human. Humans like sleeping under a roof.”

Juzi continued to lounge on the ground, watching her silently.

“…If I stall any longer, it’ll be completely dark,” Le Gui finally relented, picking up a few tiny flowers she had plucked by the lake. “I’ll head back now. See you tomorrow.”

Juzi, who had no worries at all, saw Le Gui leaving and simply jumped into the lake for a swim.

Le Gui glanced at it enviously before leaving with a heavy heart, holding onto the flowers. She had timed it perfectly so that by the time she arrived at Cangqiong Palace, night had just fallen. Behind her, the wind stirred the forests of the mountain, and the demons and ghosts that had slept through the day began their nightly activities.

She looked at the gloomy palace, hesitated for a moment, but eventually stepped inside.

“You still know to come back?” The Seer Mirror mocked the moment it saw her.

“Where is His Lordship?” Le Gui asked.

The Seer Mirror replied, “The sleeping chamber.”

Knowing that Di Jiang had not left Cangqiong Palace, Le Gui quietly sighed in relief, then walked straight toward the Seer Mirror.

The mirror immediately became wary. “Why are you coming over? What do you want? I may be injured right now, but killing a mere mortal is still easy. You’d best not—”

Before it could finish speaking, Le Gui had already placed the flower against the mirror’s bronze frame.

“It looks pretty nice,” she took a step back, admiring her work with satisfaction. “You turn into a different flower every day. You must really like flowers, right? I don’t know what this one is called, but I’m giving it to you.”

The Seer Mirror was silent for a long time before finally responding, “It’s called creeping wood sorrel.”

“Huh?” Le Gui was confused.

The mirror sounded impatient. “Fool, this is a creeping wood sorrel. It’s a common wildflower. You don’t even recognize it?”

“Do you like it?” Le Gui asked.

The Seer Mirror: “……”.

“You do, don’t you?” Le Gui tilted her head, her eyes clear and sincere, without a trace of mockery.

Dark energy surged within the mirror, instantly swallowing up the daisy that had been reflected inside.

“I don’t like this kind of foolish thing,” it grumbled, “just like I don’t like fools like you.”

Le Gui couldn’t be bothered to argue with it. She returned to the window and lay down but suddenly remembered something. “Oh, right. Can you stay awake tonight?”

“Why?” The Seer Mirror was displeased.

[Because there’s something unclean in the hall. If you stay awake, maybe it’ll be deterred.]

Le Gui cautiously glanced around, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. After thinking for a moment, she chose not to say it outright. “Just consider it a thank-you gift for accepting my flower.”

The Seer Mirror hesitated.

It knew she had ulterior motives.

But the flower was so pretty… and it was the first time anyone had ever given it one.

After a long internal struggle, the Seer Mirror reluctantly agreed.

Le Gui quietly let out a breath of relief, lying back down and trying to sleep.

Unfortunately, the more she tried to sleep, the more awake she became. The silent hall made it feel as if something was about to happen.

“Mirror,” she whispered.

“What?” The Seer Mirror sounded irritated.

“Nothing.” Hearing that it was still awake, Le Gui relaxed a little.

A while later—

“Mirror.”

“…Can you not?”

“Nothing, I’m going to sleep now,” she said, shutting her eyes tightly.

Half an hour later—

“Mirror—”

“I’m going to kill you,” the Seer Mirror suddenly said in an ominous tone.

Le Gui shrank back and didn’t dare say another word.

[Maybe I should summon two Youning spirits to sing.]

For the first time, she truly understood what Di Jiang had to endure every night.

As the night deepened, sleep finally crept up on her. She let out a small hum, turned over, and was just about to slip into a peaceful dream when a strange crunching sound reached her ears.

Again…

Ever since Di Jiang had gone to the back mountain three days ago, these noises had been happening every night. On the first night, Le Gui had bravely searched the entire hall but found nothing—not even the source of the sound.

The second night was even worse. Though the sound was fainter, it came with the faint murmurs of a little girl groaning in pain. It sent shivers down her spine, and she didn’t dare search anymore. She had no choice but to lie stiffly in bed, pretending to be asleep until dawn.

This was the third night. Di Jiang had returned, and she had assumed that with him around, no evil spirits would dare act up. Yet, the strange noises were still here.

Le Gui squeezed her eyes shut, but the sound grew louder and louder. She finally couldn’t hold back and whispered, “Mirror.”

No response.

She swallowed nervously and spoke a little louder. “Mirror, are you—are you asleep?”

Still no response.

A chill crept up her spine.

She slowly opened her eyes just a sliver and peeked at the unnervingly silent hall.

Just one glance was enough to nearly stop her heart in fear.

She saw a little girl sitting in front of the desk, placing flowers in her hair while facing the Seer Mirror.

A child of about seven or eight… dressed in blood stained clothes… skin and bones… her small hands holding the very same creeping wood sorrel that Le Gui had pinned on the mirror earlier, slowly placing it into her own hair.

As her wrist moved, her sleeve slipped down, revealing five or six bloodied holes as thick as a pinky finger.

Le Gui had seen her fair share of horror in this strange world. She had witnessed vengeful ghosts that devoured people whole and battles soaked in fresh blood. She thought her nerves had already been steeled to the highest level.

Yet at this moment, she felt as if the world had gone dark.

Physical horror and psychological horror were simply not the same.

She clutched her chest with trembling hands. Her first instinct was to lie back down and keep pretending to be dead. But doing that meant giving up all control.

What if the little girl finished putting on the flower and turned around?

A hundred terrifying stories flashed through her mind.

In the end, she couldn’t take it anymore and slowly got up, carefully making her way toward the throne.

The hall remained eerily silent.

The little girl was still fixing her hair in the mirror. The reflection was too blurry for Le Gui to make out her face… and she didn’t want to.

Every horror story warned against curiosity. Curiosity got people killed.

Moving as quietly as she could, she finally reached the corridor entrance.

She kept repeating to herself, “Curiosity kills the cat, don’t look back.”

But the moment she stepped into the corridor—

She couldn’t help it.

She turned her head to take one last glance.

Just as she turned her head, she found herself staring straight into the hollow sockets of the little girl who had turned around at some point—if those two gaping holes beneath her eyebrows could even be considered eyes.

Le Gui let out a silent, internal scream of sheer terror and bolted straight into the corridor without a second thought.

The night was still and quiet. In the Wanghuan Pool, Di Jiang slowly opened his eyes. Moments later, someone crashed through the doors of the hall. The moment she saw him, she let out an ear-piercing scream and rushed straight toward him.

As she got closer, Di Jiang calmly raised his hand and cast a barrier. Le Gui leaped into the pool, sending up a massive splash, but the water hit the barrier and fell back into the pool. Not a single drop landed on Di Jiang.

Once the barrier dissipated, Di Jiang was just about to ask her what nonsense she was up to this time when she suddenly threw herself into his arms, choking out, “Your Lordship, g-ghost! There is a ghost! Wuwuwu…”

Di Jiang’s expression turned subtly unreadable.

Le Gui clung to him tightly, unwilling to let go. After a long while, she finally looked up at him and called softly, “Your Lordship.”

“You are not even afraid of me… but you fear ghosts?” Di Jiang’s voice was slow and deliberate, as if seriously pondering the question.

“Who said I am not afraid? I am terrified of you.” Le Gui whimpered and burrowed deeper into his arms.

Di Jiang: “…”

After a brief silence, he reached out, grabbed the back of her collar, and attempted to pull her off. Realizing his intention, Le Gui immediately tightened her grip, refusing to let go. In her panic, she even clawed at his shoulder, leaving behind a few clear scratches.

“Your Lordship, I am not lying to you…” Le Gui was on the verge of tears. “There really is a ghost in the main hall! A little girl ghost! Her hair was this long! Her nails were this black! And her eyes—her eyes were hollow and dark, as if someone had dug them out! Wuwuwu… Your Lordship, have you killed too many people in this lifetime? Is that why vengeful spirits are coming after you?”

Di Jiang let out a cold chuckle and did not bother responding.

Le Gui sobbed and complained for a long while before finally calming down. When she looked up again, she smacked right into his sharp jawline.

Di Jiang glanced down at her, displeased, silently warning her to behave.

Le Gui: [Why does he even look handsome from this angle? This is so unfair.]

Di Jiang: “…” Seems like she is not that scared after all.

Having vented for so long, Le Gui had relaxed considerably. Besides, the person she was clinging to was the ultimate cheat code in this world. With her sense of security fully restored, she even started making small talk.

“Your Lordship, why are you still soaking in the water at this hour?”

“I am resting.” Though the wounds from the Soul-Extinguishing Formation had healed, the aftereffects lingered. Lately, he had developed a fondness for sleeping.

Le Gui blinked. “You rest… in water?”

Is he not worried about turning into a waterlogged corpse?

“Is that a problem?” Di Jiang countered.

Afraid he might toss her out, Le Gui quickly retracted her neck and said, “No problem at all. You can do whatever you want.”

Then she fell silent.

The night stretched on endlessly, with no sign of dawn. Le Gui clung to him for a while, but eventually, her arms grew sore. Peeking at Di Jiang, she found that he seemed to have fallen asleep, so she carefully shifted her position, using the buoyancy of the water to settle onto his lap.

Di Jiang, who had merely been resting his eyes: “…”

The silence was too unsettling, so Le Gui could not help but speak again. “Your Lordship, are you asleep?”

Di Jiang ignored her.

“You are definitely not asleep. Even if you were, now that I am talking, you must be awake by now.” Le Gui sounded very confident.

Di Jiang opened his eyes and stared at her expressionlessly.

Le Gui pretended not to notice the exasperation in his gaze and continued, “Your Lordship, you have been deep in thought a lot lately. What have you been thinking about?”

Di Jiang watched her for a long moment, then suddenly let out a soft chuckle.

Le Gui: “…”

She swore, this smile was even scarier than the little ghost girl’s psychological assault. Goosebumps prickled all over her skin, and she instinctively tried to swim away. But Di Jiang did not give her the chance. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“There is indeed something I have been thinking about recently,” he said slowly.

Le Gui struggled again. “Then please, continue thinking, take your time.”

[Please do not tell me. The more I know, the sooner I die. I understand this principle well.]

“You want Wuliangdu, do you not? What if I give it to you?” Di Jiang locked eyes with her, his voice in the darkness carrying an almost hypnotic quality.

Le Gui froze, her struggle coming to an abrupt halt.