Chapter 49 (Part 2)- I’ll Just Rub

He wanted her to continue?

Did he think she was some obedient puppet, there to satisfy his every whim?

Distracted by her thoughts, she didn’t notice when he suddenly tightened against her. Her smile froze.

This shameless man had the audacity to push against her?!

She tried to pull away, but as soon as she moved, his arms wrapped tightly around her neck.

She froze in shock. Wasn’t he still tied up?

Rong Shang chuckled darkly. “Celestial moth silk is unbreakable. Weeds from the beam, however… are not.”

She stared at him speechlessly.

The beam was too high to reach, even with the silk belt and sash combined. That was why she had used the weeds to bind him. She had anticipated him trying to break free of the silk, but she hadn’t considered the weeds.

His hands had been tied, yes, but there was enough slack for him to maneuver. Using this gap, he caught her neck, locking her in a firm grip that left her gasping for air.

She choked out, “Let… go!”

He didn’t let go, though he eased his hold slightly. His feet were still bound to the table legs, preventing him from fully pinning her down.

But he didn’t care to undo the bindings. Instead, he sat on the table and used his actions to give her a clear response.

Sweat slid down his neck, trailing over his chiseled chest.

Relentlessly, he repeated his motions. She struggled at first but eventually collapsed, limp and exhausted.

…

When he finally released her, she was drenched in sweat, her eyes still defiant. “Rong Shang, you’re shameless!”

Unbothered, he brushed a thumb over her flushed lips, his tone calm. “I know.”

Her face burned red with anger. “You’ll get your comeuppance!”

His lips brushed against her earlobe as he chuckled softly. “You are my comeuppance.”

She: “…”

Comeuppance, your mother!

She pulled on her pants, yanked the belt from his hands, and slapped him across the face. “Mark my words—from this moment on, we’re strangers!”

Before storming off, she threw a letter the Seventh Prince had given her in his face.

Rong Shang watched her retreating figure, his cheek still tingling faintly from her slap. For reasons he couldn’t explain, the sensation left him with a strange, lingering satisfaction.

He flexed his wrists, tucked the envelope away, and untied his legs from the table legs.

Once he had tidied up his robes, he moved to the corner, raised his hand, and opened the wardrobe door.

Inside, the Seventh Prince was still crouched in the same position, though the bloodstains on his face had been cleaned off. Rong Shang kicked his leg lightly. “After eavesdropping for half an hour, how does it feel?”

The Seventh Prince stiffened, slowly raising his head. “I didn’t hear anything. I just woke up.”

Seeing Rong Shang’s handsome face, the prince froze.

Maybe it was because the Ghost King’s original face was too ordinary that he had never committed it to memory. He only vaguely recalled it wasn’t remarkable.

But how had this Ghost King transformed overnight?

The Seventh Prince had no idea what had happened the night before, nor whether Yu Zhengzheng had succeeded. He vaguely remembered her being exposed, then inexplicably blacking out.

He assumed the Ghost King hadn’t been poisoned. Better to stay cautious.

Rong Shang couldn’t be bothered to waste words. He calmly spat out two words, “The antidote.”

The Seventh Prince considered resisting to the death—after all, it was just one life. In eighteen years, he could reincarnate as a hero.

At least if he died, he’d drag the Ghost King’s woman down with him, so he could give his father an account when he faced him in the underworld.

Just as he was about to defiantly proclaim “I don’t have it,” Rong Shang’s cold glance cut him off. The oppressive aura gripped his throat, making it hard to breathe, and his chest felt heavy with pain.

In the end, through gritted teeth, the Seventh Prince managed to choke out, “Fine.”

He was terrified of this Ghost King.

The Seventh Prince rummaged through the pouch at his waist, searching for the antidote, but came up empty-handed.

Seeing the man before him growing visibly impatient, the Seventh Prince broke into a cold sweat. “I’m sure it’s here. Just wait, let me keep looking…”

Rong Shang narrowed his eyes slightly. “You put the antidote in your pouch?”

The Seventh Prince replied earnestly, “My father said the most dangerous place is the safest place.”

Rong Shang: “…”

The pouch was only so big, and no matter how many times the Seventh Prince rifled through it, the antidote was nowhere to be found.

Irritated, Rong Shang ordered him to take out his spatial bag and dump its contents onto the floor.

Out tumbled three unwashed undergarments, five crusty stockings, a small whip with barbs, and a dozen red candles…

Everything imaginable was there—except the antidote.

Rong Shang let out a cold laugh. “If you can’t find the antidote, I’ll gouge out your eyes, cut off your tongue, sever your limbs, and send you back to your father in pieces.”

The Seventh Prince was utterly defeated, trembling with fear.

Tears streamed down his face as he wailed, “I really can’t find it! I swear on my father’s name I’m not lying. The seller might have a backup antidote; I’ll find a way to contact them. Please don’t take my eyes!”

Rong Shang didn’t press further and merely said indifferently, “If you don’t produce the antidote within three days, the South Sea will accompany her to the grave.”

With that, he turned and left.

Rong Shang didn’t know how long the pill he had taken last night would remain effective.

He tried summoning his powers on the way, but his divine strength still hadn’t returned.

He wasn’t worried. Leisurely, he strolled toward the Hall of Sagacity.

As expected, Yu Zhengzheng was there. So was the Celestial Emperor, and the Mirror of Rebirth hadn’t yet been brought out.

When Yu Zhengzheng saw him enter, her expression didn’t change. She acted as though he were thin air, utterly ignoring him.

The others, however, were visibly startled. They stared at his stunning face, failing to recognize who he was.

Yu Jiangjiang stiffened at the sight of him. “S-Senior Brother?”

Rong Shang didn’t acknowledge her. Casually, he sat beside Yu Zhengzheng, picked up her teacup, and took a sip.

Yu Zhengzheng’s face twitched. She regretted not slapping him harder earlier.

She truly wanted to punch him now, but her trembling arm eventually held back.

Once the pressing matters of life and death were resolved, she’d leave everything behind. She didn’t care about that cursed anklet anymore—she could cultivate now, after all.

When the time came, she’d retreat to a secluded mountain forest, marry a decent man, and live far away from this wretched Rong Shang. If she were lucky, she’d never see him again in this lifetime.

Shan Shui, sitting on her other side, turned to Rong Shang and greeted respectfully, “My lord.”

Rong Shang nodded slightly, his gaze indifferent. “Mm.”

With that one word, Shan Shui revealed his identity.

The crowd was shocked, except for Hengwu Immortal Lord, whose face darkened. With cold detachment, he said, “Stay away from my wife, and mind your tone when speaking to her.”

Rong Shang shot him a murderous glare. “Are you teaching me how to act?”

Hengwu Immortal Lord fell silent.

The Celestial Emperor, sensing the tension, chuckled to change the subject. “Ah, we’ve talked so long but haven’t yet unveiled the Mirror of Rebirth. What a lapse of memory!”

He brought out an ornately carved, gold-gilded mirror with dragon patterns and placed it on a low table, adjusting its angle for the best view.

The Celestial Emperor gestured toward the mirror. “Who would like to try it first?”

No one stepped forward. Though the Mirror of Rebirth could reveal one’s past, most present had either suffered tragic childhoods or possessed shameful histories they’d rather keep hidden.

Yu Zhengzheng narrowed her eyes and looked at An Ning. “Didn’t you say you lost your memories?”

She smiled faintly. “Why not look into the mirror? Perhaps it’ll jog something.”

An Ning hesitated, clearly unwilling. But Xiang Feng surprisingly agreed with Yu Zhengzheng. Gripping An Ning’s hand tightly, he urged firmly, “Take a look. It’s fine.”