Chapter 22

Initially, she only intended to give it a try, not expecting the call to actually go through. For a moment, Yu Zhengzheng was at a loss for words, unsure of what to say.

Should she tell him, “Could you please come back? Someone’s out to take your life?”

She didn’t have the courage. The Ghost King was far more terrifying than the oversized sanitary pad, the Seventh Prince.

Noticing her silence, he patiently asked again, “What’s the matter?”

Afraid of raising suspicion, Yu Zhengzheng hurriedly replied, “Nothing, I just haven’t seen you in a while and wanted to ask when you’ll be back…”

Before finishing her sentence, she froze.

Why did her tone sound like a newlywed wife asking her husband when he’d come home?

There was a brief pause from the other side of the communication bracelet, followed by a low chuckle.

Yu Zhengzheng’s pale ears turned red in an instant. She bit her lower lip hard, her face heating up as if it had just been boiled.

What was he laughing at?

Did he think the same thing too?

To avoid any misunderstanding, she awkwardly added, “I was just asking casually. If you’re not coming back, then forget it.”

“I’ll come back,” he said, his voice tinged with laughter, now carrying a trace of warmth. “I’ll return tomorrow.”

Yu Zhengzheng muttered an “Oh” and hastily disconnected the call.

As something crossed her mind, she bit her cherry-red lips and swallowed silently.

The Seventh Prince raised an eyebrow. “Why is your face so red?”

Yu Zhengzheng lifted her hand to fan her cheeks and replied guiltily, “It’s too hot in here.”

The Seventh Prince sneered. “Nonsense. Look at you, all lovestruck. It’s obvious you’ve fallen for that old scoundrel.”

Yu Zhengzheng remained expressionless. “Can you shut up, sanitary pad?”

Hearing her call him that, the Seventh Prince realized she was displeased.

Shrugging, he casually tossed her an antidote for the poison and strolled out of the room.

He wasn’t an evil man. He only wanted to avenge his father by targeting the Ghost King. Since she cooperated with his plans, he wouldn’t deliberately make things difficult for her.

Yu Zhengzheng didn’t consume the antidote immediately. Instead, she broke off a small piece, hiding it in her storage bracelet.

The Seventh Prince had oversimplified matters. Knowing the Ghost King’s personality, even without divine power, the Seventh Prince wouldn’t stand a chance against him.

The most likely outcome was mutual destruction. Since the Seventh Prince was unreliable, she decided to save some antidote for later analysis by a medical cultivator to recreate it if needed.

She swallowed the remaining antidote with tea and left the room. The sun was setting, and it was almost time for dinner.

The courtyard was quiet, with only Shanshui and An Ning sitting outside, seemingly waiting for Xiang Feng.

Curious, Yu Zhengzheng asked, “Where is everyone?”

Shanshui rested her chin on a hen and weakly pointed to the main gate. “They went to watch the fighting competition. It’s lively over there.”

Noticing something off about Shanshui, Yu Zhengzheng observed her pale complexion, flushed cheeks, and feverish appearance, as if she were ill.

Walking over, Yu Zhengzheng touched Shanshui’s forehead. “Are you feeling unwell?”

The heat under her fingertips was scorching, almost burning.

Yu Zhengzheng wasn’t sure if Shanshui had caught a cold, as she was a spirit being and different from humans.

Shanshui shook her head. “I’m fine. It’s an old problem. Master says I was born missing my Earth Soul, so I often get sick.”

In the world, most beings have three souls and seven spirits.

The three souls are the Heavenly Soul, Earth Soul, and Life Soul. The Heavenly Soul governs spiritual power, while the Life Soul governs the afterlife.

The Earth Soul represents the physical body after death

Spirits differ from humans. They are usually formed in two ways: either through cultivation of natural energies or by inhabiting objects after a human’s death, gaining fortune to become spirits. The latter often lack the Earth Soul, making them frail and prone to illness.

From Shanshui’s condition, it seemed she belonged to the latter category.

While Yu Zhengzheng was still pondering how to help Shanshui, Xiang Feng walked into the courtyard holding five skewers of candied fruit: two orange-flavored, two yam bean-flavored, and one hawthorn-walnut-flavored.

Shanshui loved to eat, and these were all her favorites. Unfortunately, the candied fruit seller only had five left. Otherwise, Xiang Feng would have bought more.

Seeing the skewers in his hand, Shanshui immediately perked up. “Master, are these for me?”

Xiang Feng was about to nod when he noticed An Ning behind her and paused. “Give one to Miss An Ning. The rest are yours.”

Shanshui, not one to be stingy, happily took the skewers and brought them to Yu Zhengzheng. “Miss Zhengzheng, you pick first.”

Yu Zhengzheng wasn’t fond of overly sweet treats, but she couldn’t refuse Shanshui’s goodwill. Among the skewers, she chose an orange-flavored one, leaving the others.

Shanshui, now carrying the rest, went to An Ning.

An Ning hesitated for a long time, her timid eyes lingering on the hawthorn-walnut skewer.

Shanshui urged, “Miss An Ning, go ahead and pick one.”

An Ning lightly bit her lip and slowly shook her head. “Thank you, but I don’t like these.”

Thinking she genuinely didn’t like them, Shanshui didn’t insist and prepared to take a bite of the hawthorn-walnut skewer, her favorite flavor.

Before she could, Xiang Feng pressed down on her hand. “Give this one to Miss An Ning. I’ll get you more tomorrow.”

Shanshui protested, “But she said she doesn’t like it.”

Xiang Feng, at a loss for words, had noticed An Ning’s earlier behavior. She didn’t dislike it; she was just too shy to ask.

He patted Shanshui’s hand. “Be good.”

Reluctantly, Shanshui handed the skewer to An Ning

Yu Zhengzheng felt so irritated she wanted to flip a table. Was Xiang Feng out of his mind?

Picking up an unidentified woman from a brothel—did he really think she was some kind of treasure?

Grinding her molars in frustration, she suddenly stuck out her tongue and coughed harshly in An Ning’s direction.

Saliva splattered onto An Ning’s hand, ruining both her and the candied hawthorn she held.

Yu Zhengzheng smirked coldly to herself. If Shanshui couldn’t eat it, then An Ning shouldn’t get to enjoy it either.

Feigning an apologetic expression, she said, “Sorry, I must have caught a cold from being drenched in the rain the other day. My throat tickles and makes me want to cough.”

She deliberately emphasized the words “drenched in the rain,” clearly hinting at Xiang Feng.

An Ning quickly waved it off. “It’s okay; it’s my fault for not holding it properly.”

Then, as if afraid Xiang Feng might blame Yu Zhengzheng, she pointed outside and suggested, “Let’s go watch the sparring matches.”

Xiang Feng said nothing, merely giving Yu Zhengzheng a glance before leading Shanshui to the arena.

Shanshui, with her short memory, forgot the earlier unpleasantness after finishing just one candied hawthorn.

An Ning proactively engaged Shanshui in conversation, and the two seemed to hit it off, chatting and laughing. But Yu Zhengzheng, ever resentful, stared daggers at An Ning’s back, fuming with nowhere to vent.

When Xiang Feng wasn’t around, An Ning acted like a mute. She wouldn’t even look at Shanshui or her, let alone talk to them.

But now that Xiang Feng was here, An Ning suddenly became a chatterbox, exuding an overwhelming “green tea” vibe.

The sparring arena was abuzz with excitement. Yan Wang, a lover of martial arts, frequently held such events in the royal manor. Every time there was a sparring match, the servants and maids gathered enthusiastically to watch.

Onstage, two shirtless brutes were going all out, and the crowd’s cheers and shouts created an electric atmosphere.

An Ning lowered her head timidly, turning away, unable to bring herself to look at the stage.

Seeing her shrinking back, Xiang Feng couldn’t help but think of the hardships she must have endured in the brothel. She must be deeply afraid of men, he thought.

He moved to stand in front of her, thoughtfully shielding her from the view of the arena.

An Ning looked up at him gratefully and muttered softly, “Why do they always take off their shirts during sparring?”

Hearing the coquettish tone in her voice, Yu Zhengzheng sneered. “If they took off their pants, I suppose you wouldn’t dare look at all.”

Xiang Feng shot her a glare, but she wasn’t intimidated, glaring right back. “What’s wrong, Guardian Xiang? Do I have flowers on my face?”

His face darkened, but he didn’t bother arguing with her.

Yu Zhengzheng was initially a little wary of Xiang Feng, but seeing how attentively he cared for An Ning in front of Shanshui, her anger spiked.

Who does he actually like?

If he doesn’t like Shanshui, why do things that lead her on? And if he does like her, why string her along while playing out some cheap substitute drama with a knockoff?

Finally, mealtime arrived, and everyone returned to the courtyard to eat under the moonlight.

Even though Shanshui was unwell, it didn’t dampen her appetite. Her small bowl was piled high with meat, looking like a miniature mountain.

Xiang Feng, serving her more food, glanced up to see An Ning’s empty bowl. “You don’t like the dishes?”

An Ning shook her head. “I don’t have much appetite. I always find it hard to eat… maybe because I’m too thin.”

Hearing this, Shanshui paused mid-bite, pinching the flesh on her stomach before setting her chopsticks down.

Yu Zhengzheng, already displeased, was about to retort when the Seventh Prince casually offered a helpful comment. “My grandfather was the same before he passed. If there’s something wrong, you’d better treat it early while there’s still hope.”

An Ning: “???”

Yu Zhengzheng almost clapped in admiration. Finally, this “sanitary pad” was doing something useful.

Though An Ning fell silent, Shanshui also lost her appetite. Claiming fatigue, she put down her chopsticks and went back to her room.

Seeing An Ning sullen, Yu Zhengzheng took a few perfunctory bites to fill her stomach before heading to bed.

That night, she woke up in the middle of intense abdominal pain, as though countless ants were gnawing at her. The torment was unbearable, leaving her wide awake.

The next morning, she stumbled out of her room, pale as a sheet.

The others were still asleep, except for Xiao Yuqing, who was practicing his sword in the courtyard.

His steps were light as a swallow, his sword gleaming like frost, reflecting a faint silver glow. His movements were fluid, like a dragon soaring through the skies, sweeping fallen petals with his blade.

Yu Zhengzheng was mesmerized. Such grace and valor—if he were born in the human realm, surely he would be a general, commanding armies and shedding blood on the battlefield.

“Enjoying the view?” came a calm voice.

Without thinking, she replied, “Very much…”

Then, realizing her blunder, she looked up stiffly, spotting a figure in white.

She stammered, “L-Lord Ghost King, you’ve returned.”

Rong Shang sat on a stone bench, sipping hot tea. “Hmm.”

Xiao Yuqing stopped his practice, sheathed his sword, and respectfully saluted Rong Shang.

Noticing Yu Zhengzheng’s pale complexion, he asked, “Miss Yu, are you unwell?”

Yu Zhengzheng nodded awkwardly. “It’s nothing, just a stomachache. I’ll head to the pharmacy for medicine.”

It was then that Rong Shang interjected coolly, “I’ll go. You’re too slow.”

Yu Zhengzheng froze mid-turn. Before she could refuse, the white figure vanished.

Rong Shang, dissatisfied with their oblivious behavior, thought to himself, Have they forgotten who’s really in charge here?

Watching her ridiculous behavior, nearly drooling over a man, irritated him to no end.

At the pharmacy, he kicked open the door, startling the shopkeeper into dropping his cloth. Realizing this guest was not to be trifled with, the shopkeeper greeted him with a forced smile. “What can I get for you, sir?”

Rong Shang frowned. He wasn’t sure what Yu Zhengzheng needed, but judging from her pale face, it must be related to her “monthly situation.”

After some hesitation, he said, “Something for women… you know what I mean.”

The shopkeeper blinked, unsure. “Something for women? Do you mean for them to take or… use?”

Scrutinizing Rong Shang’s pale, haggard appearance, the shopkeeper suddenly had a revelation: this man must have kidney issues!

To confirm, he asked cautiously, “Are you looking for something to invigorate the spirit after consumption?”

Rong Shang thought for a moment. After all, Yu Zhengzheng did look lifeless, and taking medicine should make her more spirited. “Yes, the most expensive kind.”

The shopkeeper nodded enthusiastically. “And how large?”

Rong Shang, growing impatient, barked, “The largest!”

Why was buying medicine so complicated? How was he supposed to know about sizes?

Hurrying along, the shopkeeper prepared the “medicine” and handed it over.

Rong Shang tossed a gold ingot onto the counter, grabbed the package, and returned to the manor.

He placed the package on the stone table. “Take it.”

Trembling, Yu Zhengzheng unwrapped the package, only to find a massive cow whip staring back at her.