Chapter 18

Not only Xiang Feng, but the others also noticed the woman in the red dress on stage.

The Lingbi Palace was once the most prominent sect in the cultivation world. Although its palace master perished thousands of years ago, her portraits remained widely known. Naturally, everyone in the private room was familiar with her appearance.

Ziyu and Ziqian leaned against the window, staring at the woman in red in astonishment. “Am I seeing things?” 

Xiao Yuqing frowned deeply, muttering under his breath, “The Palace Master of Lingbi Palace?”

Seeing their stunned reactions, Yu Zhengzheng wasn’t surprised.

On Qingcheng Mountain, there were two major sects: one was the Lingbi Palace, and the other was the Yuling Sect. 

The Lingbi Palace only accepted female disciples and was renowned across the six realms for its exceptional medical skills, making it a prominent sect specializing in medicinal cultivation. 

In contrast, the Yuling Sect was an ordinary cultivation sect without any remarkable reputation. Before the Lingbi Palace’s downfall, the Yuling Sect was relatively obscure.

In fact, the palace master of Lingbi Palace and the head of Yuling Sect were once disciples under the same master and shared a close relationship. After the palace master’s demise, all the rare and precious medicinal herbs and pills of Lingbi Palace were inherited by Sect Master Xiao. 

With these resources, the Yuling Sect gradually rose to prominence, becoming the leading sect in the cultivation world.

It wasn’t surprising that Sect Master Xiao would often reminisce about his late junior sister to the younger generation. Their shocked reactions to seeing someone identical to the Lingbi Palace master were only natural.

Yu Zhengzheng wasn’t particularly interested in their sentiments. She was more concerned about Shanshui.

Glancing at Shanshui, who was sound asleep leaning against Xiang Feng’s shoulder, she said meaningfully, “Even if the resemblance is uncanny, it’s not her.”

The palace master of Lingbi Palace was dead—utterly and completely dead.

Even if reincarnation existed, the person would not retain the same appearance and features from a past life.

Instead of chasing after fleeting memories, isn’t cherishing the present more important?

Downstairs, the brothel madam’s voice rang out with excitement. “This gentleman has bid three thousand taels for Miss Anning’s first night. Are there any other bids, gentlemen?”

Three thousand taels was no small sum, enough to support a village of commoners for half a lifetime. Using it to purchase a single night with a woman was already a high price.

“Three thousand taels, going once. Three thousand taels, going twice…”

Xiao Yuqing raised his hand. “Thirty thousand taels. I’m buying her freedom.”

The madam was stunned, then smiled slyly. “You must be joking, sir. Tonight, we’re only auctioning off the ladies’ first nights. Where’s the precedent for outright purchasing their freedom?”

After all, she had spent a year grooming her top girl. Selling her first night was just the beginning; the madam planned for her to keep earning. Thirty thousand taels wasn’t worth giving up such a valuable asset.

Xiao Yuqing raised his bid. “Fifty thousand taels.”

A glint of calculation flashed in the madam’s eyes. She was an excellent judge of character. If this gentleman was willing to spend so much to free Anning, then Anning must hold some special significance for him.

While fifty thousand was a hefty sum, her instincts told her Anning could fetch an even higher price.

Softening her tone, the madam said, “We’ve never had such an arrangement at Jinxiang Pavilion. If you sincerely wish to free Miss Anning, fifty thousand taels won’t suffice.”

Then she gestured, making a “ten” with her fingers.

Feigning reluctance, she pointed to the greasy, bald man who had bid three thousand taels earlier. “If you won’t raise your bid, Anning will belong to this gentleman tonight.”

Though he couldn’t bear to see Anning end up with that man, Xiao Yuqing was powerless. Fifty thousand taels was already his limit.

As the madam was about to finalize the deal with the bald man, Anning suddenly knelt toward the private room on the third floor. “I beg the gentleman to free me.”

Her tear-filled eyes glistened, evidence of recent weeping. Despite her delicate, stubborn expression, her gaze radiated helplessness. She looked as though she might dash herself against the wall at any moment.

Just as Xiang Feng, who had been silent until now, lowered his gaze, he spoke: “One hundred thousand taels. I’ll pay.”

Yu Zhengzheng sighed. It seemed he hadn’t taken her words to heart.

The madam’s reaction was unexpected. Instead of readily agreeing, she greedily raised her demand. “One hundred thousand taels was the price just now. If the gentleman wishes to purchase her now, it will cost two hundred thousand taels. If not, I’ll have no choice but to apologize for breaking the rules of Jinxiang Pavilion.”

Her tone carried a veiled threat, a clear indication that she intended to play hardball.

With her influential connections, the madam was confident and unyielding. Sensing their desperation to free Anning and judging from their opulent appearance, she wasn’t about to let this lucrative opportunity slip away.

Xiang Feng fell silent.

The king had given him a hundred thousand taels. After spending a thousand to secure the private room, he had just over ninety thousand left, which he was free to use as he pleased. 

But even if he added his personal savings, he barely had over a hundred thousand taels—far from the madam’s demand of two hundred thousand.

Clenching his fists, Xiang Feng glanced toward Rong Shang.

Rong Shang lounged leisurely on a beauty couch, toying with a jade thumb ring. Without a care, he drawled, “She’s not Xue Xi.”

Xiang Feng bowed his head. “I know. But I still want to save her.”

He knew full well that Xue Xi was long gone. 

And he also knew it was because of him that she died.

Rong Shang chuckled softly. “Very well.”

In a calm voice, he said, “One million taels.”

His words sent shockwaves through the entire Jinxiang Pavilion.

The madam stared in stunned silence toward the third-floor private room before stammering, “Is the gentleman truly offering one million taels to free Miss Anning?”

This was no longer a significant sum—it was astronomical. Even the emperor himself wouldn’t dare spend so extravagantly to free a courtesan.

Yu Zhengzheng blinked in surprise, glancing at him with curiosity. Could it be that the Ghost King had once been in love with the Lingbi Palace master as well?

One million taels wasn’t a trivial amount. Was he spending it for himself or on behalf of Xiang Feng?

Noticing her gaze, Rong Shang cast her a sideways glance, his expression a mix of amusement and disdain. With a casual flick of his slender fingers, he crushed a wine cup into powder.

Yu Zhengzheng shivered. It felt as though it wasn’t the cup but her own head that had been crushed.

Rong Shang chuckled lightly.

With deliberate ease, he raised his hand, plucking a sandalwood prayer bead from his bracelet. The bead flew through the air with an icy chill, striking the madam’s left knee.

Before she realized what had happened, her lower leg was gone, reduced to a bloody, mangled stump, with the severed portion lying pathetically nearby.

Her agonized screams echoed through the hall

Everyone in the private room stared at Rong Shang in horror. The ruthlessness of his attack was unmistakable… Could he truly be the Ghost King?

Ignoring the chaos, Rong Shang smiled faintly. “Ten thousand taels.”

Another bead flew from his hand, severing her other leg.

“Twenty thousand taels.”

The madam’s hands were the next to go, sending the entire hall into a frenzy as her guards stormed toward the third floor.

Unbothered, Rong Shang continued in his leisurely tone. “Forty thousand taels.”

The madam, now reduced to a torso and a head, clung desperately to life. Rong Shang smirked at her. “Do you think your head is worth sixty thousand taels?”

Trembling, the madam finally broke down, her voice a pitiful wail. “It is! It is! I’ll deliver Miss Anning to you immediately…”

Before the words even fell, the head had already separated from its neck, rolling down with a dull thud. The scene sent the noble attendees at the auction scrambling for the exits in sheer terror.

“Murder! Murder!” Shrieks of panic filled the air.

The old bawd’s head rolled to a stop at An Ning’s feet, but she remained in her kneeling position, her head bowed low. Her expression was obscured, but the slight trembling of her back betrayed her fear.

Xiang Feng roused Shan Shui, who rubbed her eyes groggily, only to see her master dashing through the crowd in a hurry. She blinked in confusion, completely unaware of what had just occurred.

Meanwhile, Rong Shang opened an oiled paper umbrella with a casual motion, murmuring softly, “It’s raining.” 

In the blink of an eye, he disappeared from the private room, leaving no trace. If not for the old bawd’s grisly end, one might have thought the entire incident had been a mere illusion.

As soon as Rong Shang left, Yu Jiangjiang couldn’t hold back her curiosity and snapped, “Why is the Ghost King your godfather?”

Her tone was far from polite, forgetting even to feign cordiality by addressing Yu Zhengzheng as “sister.” 

The others also turned their gazes toward Yu Zhengzheng, their eyes tinged with blame.

“You’re so selfish! You knew he was the Ghost King and didn’t warn us!”

“Exactly! If we’d said something wrong, we’d have ended up like that old bawd!”

“Did you do it on purpose, wanting us to die here so you could feel satisfied?”

Just as Yu Zhengzheng was about to retort, Xiao Yuqing interjected, “Perhaps the Ghost King deliberately forbade Miss Yu from speaking. How can you blame her for this?”

He offered her a comforting smile. “I trust Miss Yu.”

Xiao Yuqing’s words felt like a refreshing splash of water, instantly quelling the fiery anger in her heart. 

Yu Zhengzheng swallowed her sharp retort, feeling her heart skip an odd beat. 

Xiao Yuqing was undeniably gallant, with an unmatched elegance and a kind heart that always came to her aid in moments of difficulty. There seemed to be no flaws in him. Were it not for her reluctance to entangle herself in the original plotline, she might have considered a future with him.

Unaware of her thoughts, Xiao Yuqing reassured the group with a few words before leading everyone downstairs to leave. 

By then, the Golden Apricot Pavilion had emptied, the auction ruined by the Ghost King’s actions. It wouldn’t be long before the authorities arrived, making it clear they had to leave quickly. Any hope of intercepting Nangong Tianba today was dashed.

Outside the pavilion, rain fell steadily. Though it wasn’t heavy, the persistent drizzle would leave anyone drenched by the time they reached the inn.

Xiao Yuqing managed to find four oiled paper umbrellas within the pavilion, but there were ten of them in total. Even pairing up under each umbrella would leave two people exposed to the rain.

He handed the first umbrella to Ziyu and Ziqian, who were still trembling from the earlier events. “Take this and head back first.”

Three umbrellas remained. One was given to Xiang Feng, and another to the two male disciples from Mount Penglai.

This left the last umbrella, and since Yu Jiangjiang had an injured leg, Xiao Yuqing handed it to her and Yu Zhengzheng to share.

Even after distributing the umbrellas, one person still had to brave the rain. 

Xiang Feng, holding a pale-faced An Ning in his arms, asked gently, “Are your legs still numb?”

Despite being a coffin spirit, Shan Shui was more physically fragile than most girls, often falling ill every couple of weeks. He couldn’t allow her to get wet in the rain. 

An Ning timidly nodded. She hesitantly tested her footing, but her legs gave way, nearly sending her sprawling to the ground. Xiang Feng caught her just in time.

Shan Shui began to understand what was happening. Her master had saved a woman who was so shaken that she could hardly walk. After a moment’s thought, she offered, “Master, you take this lady back first. Shan Shui is a coffin; I’m not afraid of the rain.”

Footsteps sounded outside the Golden Apricot Pavilion, chaotic and drawing closer. In the mortal world, taking a life demanded retribution. They couldn’t afford to linger any longer.

Xiang Feng stood rigid, his arm at his side tense, but he remained silent.

Yu Zhengzheng scoffed. “A coffin may not fear rain, but Shan Shui does.”

Without waiting for a response, she grabbed Shan Shui by the hand and bolted out of the pavilion.

Yu Zhengzheng shed her white robe as they ran. Made from the silk of heavenly silkworms, it was impervious to both water and fire. Draping it over their heads like a makeshift raincoat, she shielded Shan Shui as they hurried back to the inn.

Once there, Shan Shui, looking dazed, began nodding off again. Seeing her exhaustion, Yu Zhengzheng sent her to bed. 

Finally alone, Yu Zhengzheng prepared a hot bath in her room. Securing the latch from the inside, she bathed quickly, cleansing both body and mind. 

Although her robe was pristine, her undergarments required regular washing. After scrubbing them clean in hot water, she hung them over the screen to dry. 

With Xiang Feng now in possession of money, he’d surely rent more rooms. Without having to share with Yu Jiangjiang, she indulged in the luxury of undressing completely, sliding into bed.

Her relaxation was short-lived. As soon as she lay down, her body stiffened. 

An icy arm slid around her waist from behind, and warm breath brushed the back of her neck. The chill it sent through her body was more than enough to raise goosebumps.