Chapter 9

The air fell silent for a moment. Instinctively, Yu Zhengzheng reached out, trying to retrieve the swallowed chocolate-covered malt ball.  

The moment her fingertips brushed against the folds, an invisible wave of energy instantly coalesced, violently flinging her backward.  

She unexpectedly experienced a free aerial ride, akin to a lifeless fish, landing heavily on the thinly iced ground.  

Clutching her chest, Yu Zhengzheng coughed forcefully a few times, feeling the wetness at the corner of her mouth. She was certain she now looked like a scene straight out of a drama—blood trickling dramatically from her lips.  

Weakly, she raised her hand, pale-faced, and covered her lips. She felt like she was embodying the frailty of Lin Daiyu coughing blood in the breeze.  

Soon, she’d see the shocking crimson of her blood, followed by collapsing helplessly until she completely lost consciousness.  

Tears welled up in her eyes as she laid her palm open, cautiously glancing at it from the corner of her eye.  

All she saw was… a hand covered in transparent saliva.  

Yu Zhengzheng: “???”  

This felt a little off from what she’d imagined.  

She wiped the drool trickling from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, tentatively touched her limbs, and realized that, apart from her sore backside from the fall, she seemed unharmed.  

Rong Shang’s calm voice commanded, “Come here.”  

Yu Zhengzheng scrambled to her feet, crawling to the edge of the hot spring pool and kneeling obediently, barely daring to breathe.  

Between his slender fingers, he held the malt ball she had failed to retrieve. “Apply it to my back.”  

Yu Zhengzheng stared dumbfounded at the malt ball, detecting hints of an unappealing yellowish-brown hue on the dark surface.  

Suppressing a wave of nausea, she shakily extended her hand to take it, only for him to toss it disdainfully at her feet.  

She clenched her teeth in humiliation. He was clearly trying to degrade her.  

She didn’t even mind that he’d retrieved the malt ball from such an unspeakable place, yet here he was, mocking her with it!  

Fine! One day, she’d make him understand why chrysanthemums are yellow!  

Swallowing her pride, Yu Zhengzheng picked up the malt ball and pressed her warm palm against his cold back, rubbing the black pill into his skin.  

She started off with a vengeance, venting her frustration, but when she noticed his skin turning red from the pressure, she quickly regained her senses.  

Softening her movements, she adopted the tone of a seasoned bathhouse scrubber. “Is this pressure okay?”  

Rong Shang gave a faint “Mm.”  

The malt ball proved surprisingly delicate. With every roll across his skin, it grew noticeably smaller. By conserving its use, she barely managed to coat his entire back.  

“All done.”  

Yu Zhengzheng couldn’t help questioning her purpose in being here.  

She thought she was brought to serve as a concubine, but the Ghost King seemed more interested in tasks unrelated to intimacy. First, she assumed he wanted some excitement, but now it felt like she’d been reduced to his bathhouse worker.  

Rong Shang narrowed his eyes slightly and idly raised his hand. “Bring me another pill.”  

Without suspicion, Yu Zhengzheng obediently poured another pill from the bottle and extended it toward his palm.  

Though he faced away from her, Rong Shang sensed her fingertips approaching his hand.  

Three inches. Two inches. One inch…  

The instant her fingers made contact with his hand, she would vanish completely, her soul obliterated, leaving no trace she had ever existed.  

No living being could bear the grace of a god.  

She was no exception.  

Initially, he hadn’t intended to kill her, but she had pushed his patience too far. Wasting one of his precious dragon spinal essence pills had been the last straw.  

The vial held only eleven to start with, and now just nine remained. They were barely enough for him to track down the woman’s child.  

Her death was inevitable to quell his anger.  

Suddenly, the communication bracelet at the pool’s edge lit up with a red glow. Yu Zhengzheng instinctively withdrew her hand and picked up the bracelet.  

This reflex stemmed from habits formed during the apocalypse: no matter what she was doing, if the walkie-talkie buzzed, she would respond immediately.  

Surrounded by zombies at every turn, one wrong move could spell death. They had relied on walkie-talkies to maintain vigilance and coordinate in case of an attack on isolated members.  

As her finger inadvertently touched the glowing part of the bracelet, an urgent male voice burst through. “Your Majesty, the remnants of the East Emperor’s third prince have been spotted in the South Sea…”  

Before the voice finished, a gust of wind swept past her. The Ghost King, who had been soaking in the pool, vanished without a trace.  

Staring at the white undergarment left at her feet, Yu Zhengzheng gaped in shock at the open door. Did he seriously run out… naked?  

The voice on the other end hesitated, then tentatively called out, “Your Majesty? Are you there?”  

Yu Zhengzheng instinctively replied, “He just finished bathing. I think he left.”  

As she moved her finger away from the glowing part of the bracelet, her face—and the white robe she was wearing—became visible.  

A heavy silence fell on the other side before a startled exclamation erupted. “So it’s Her Majesty, the Queen!”  

Yu Zhengzheng: “???”  

“Apologies for missing your wedding with His Majesty due to pressing duties. I will extend my congratulations upon my return.”  

Yu Zhengzheng protested, “No, you’ve misunderstood. We’re not married—”  

The voice cut her off, “No need to explain! I understand—board first, pay later!”  

Yu Zhengzheng: “…” Understand my foot!

Before she could clarify, the connection broke due to poor signal.  

Reluctant to toss the bracelet back, Yu Zhengzheng feared that if the man called again, it might interfere with the Ghost King’s business and lead to his wrath.  

She resigned herself to sitting by the pool, waiting idly for the bracelet to light up again.  

After what felt like ages, her legs had gone numb, yet no further communication came.  

Exhausted and starving, Yu Zhengzheng replaced the cap on the red medicine vial and returned it to the cabinet before leaving the Luan Palace.  

She guessed the Ghost King had gone to the South Sea in search of the East Emperor’s dragon heir. She couldn’t fathom his obsession with slaughtering dragons, especially those of the East Emperor’s lineage.  

A thousand years had passed, and only one descendant remained of the East Emperor’s dragon clan. Yet the Ghost King remained relentlessly fixated on their destruction.  

Such terrifying persistence.  

Dazed and weak with hunger, Yu Zhengzheng left the Luan Palace, lacking even the energy to deal with her senior brother’s pesky phantom illusions on her way past Wuchuan River.  

Earlier, Shanshui had given everyone a map of the Guixu Mountains. Following its directions to her lodging, she stumbled her way back.  

By now, it was late at night, and the other cultivators had all retired.  

Feeling her way in the dark, Yu Zhengzheng followed the faint fragrance from Yu Jiangjiang’s body to locate her room within the courtyard.  

Though the Guixu Mountains were vast, many areas were restricted. Each group was allocated a courtyard with four rooms. 

Their group had been assigned Tianhe Courtyard. Originally meant for eight people, one disciple from Penglai Mountain had been sent away after losing her chastity, leaving seven occupants.  

Three of them were men, who had undoubtedly taken two rooms.  

The remaining two rooms housed the Lingyu Sect sisters in one, leaving Yu Zhengzheng to share with Yu Jiangjiang.  

Pushing open the door, Yu Zhengzheng found Yu Jiangjiang sprawled on the bed, snoring lightly, a faintly lecherous smile gracing her face.  

“Senior brother… Young Master Xiao… heh heh.”

She was startled awake by the sound of Yu Jiangjiang’s laughter, her foggy mind instantly clearing.  

Senior Brother? Young Master Xiao?  

A sly smile tugged at the corners of Yu Zhengzheng’s lips as she slowly approached the bed. Sitting down on the edge, she reached out to press her finger to Yu Jiangjiang’s forehead but realized she was still clutching the Ghost King’s communication bracelet.  

She had been too tired to notice it earlier and forgot to put it back when she left. After some thought, she slipped it onto her wrist. Tomorrow morning, she could give it to Shanshui to return to the Ghost King through one of his envoys.  

She had no intention of revisiting the dreadful Luan Palace—once was more than enough.  

Exhaling a long breath, Yu Zhengzheng resumed her action, pressing her fingertip lightly against Yu Jiangjiang’s brow.  

Although she was a useless wood spiritual root, she had a hidden ability unknown to others: she could freely enter and exit someone’s dreams without using any spiritual energy.  

This ability was rather useless in her daily life, so she rarely used it. It was during one of her rare uses of the dream-entering technique that she discovered a female cultivator in her group was secretly involved with the married Thirteenth Brother from the inner city.  

Slipping into Yu Jiangjiang’s dream was effortless. Looking around, she found herself in what appeared to be Yu Jiangjiang’s boudoir in Penglai Mountain.  

“Young Master Xiao, softer… softer…”  

Yu Jiangjiang’s soft, coquettish voice drifted from within the room.  

Yu Zhengzheng arched an eyebrow. That was quick—just a day of knowing Xiao Yuqing, and she had already discarded Senior Brother for this new flame.  

“Senior Brother, you can’t…”  

Yu Zhengzheng: “???”  

What the heck, Yu Jiangjiang? Going for the full love triangle?  

Unable to suppress her curiosity, she poked a hole in the paper window, but all she could see was darkness. As Yu Jiangjiang’s voice grew quieter and more suggestive, she couldn’t hold back anymore and kicked the door open.  

She only caught a glimpse of a straight figure before Yu Jiangjiang let out a piercing scream.  

“You! What are you doing here?!”  

Yu Zhengzheng was thrown out of the dream by Yu Jiangjiang’s enraged shouting, her temples throbbing.  

The downside of this dream-entering technique was that the dreamer could see her presence, which caused her no end of trouble.  

Yu Zhengzheng raised an eyebrow at Yu Jiangjiang, unfazed. “Why are you glaring at me?”  

Yu Jiangjiang’s face was as red as a beet, either from being caught in the act or out of sheer embarrassment. “Why are you back?!”  

Her tone was sharp, and all pretense of civility had disappeared.  

“Why wouldn’t I come back?” Yu Zhengzheng rolled her eyes, then smirked. “Unless you were up to something shady and didn’t want me to see?”  

Yu Jiangjiang’s face turned ashen, her voice faltering. “Nonsense! I was the only one in the room.”  

Though the room was pitch-black, Yu Zhengzheng could tell she was flustered and enraged.  

“Move over. I need some sleep.”  

Dropping the topic, Yu Zhengzheng crawled into bed. Exhausted and famished, she needed to rest up for tomorrow’s assessment.  

Yu Jiangjiang jumped off the bed, slipped into her embroidered shoes, and stormed out. With dawn approaching, she refused to share a bed with Yu Zhengzheng any longer.  

The room returned to silence. Drained of energy, Yu Zhengzheng fell asleep as soon as her eyes closed.  

Despite the freezing night in the Gui Xu Mountain, where Yu Jiangjiang had to cocoon herself in layers of quilts to fall asleep, Yu Zhengzheng, sleeping fully clothed without a quilt, felt no chill.  

The white robe she wore radiated a faint warmth, like a cozy bath. Her dantian glowed with a golden light, her body bathed in a soft, lustrous halo.  

The next morning, Shanshui arrived at Tianhe Courtyard.  

Serving as the Ghost King’s spiritual vessel was no simple task.  

Those who passed the initial selection faced a second round of assessments.  

Yu Zhengzheng was roused by the courtyard’s lively chatter. Though groggy and reluctant, she forced herself to go out. Staying in the Ghost Sect required her to pass the trials, no matter what.  

The moment she stepped out, the group fell silent.  

Yu Jiangjiang and the female disciples of the Yuling Sect glanced disdainfully at her white robe.  

How shameless. After serving the Ghost King—that decrepit old man—she had the audacity to flaunt his robes as though showing off her conquest.  

Xiao Yuqing’s gaze lingered briefly on her before offering a gentle smile. “Congratulations, Miss Yu.”  

Yawning, Yu Zhengzheng replied instinctively, “And to you.”  

Shanshui, spotting her, seemed relieved. “Miss Zhengzheng, it’s wonderful that your head is still attached!”  

Yu Zhengzheng, used to Shanshui’s bluntness, smiled wearily. “What’s today’s assessment?”  

Shanshui answered earnestly, “The king requires those of the purest and most yang energy to serve him. Today’s trial measures spiritual power.”  

Yu Zhengzheng’s smile froze.  

Spiritual power? A wood-rooted waste like her had none to speak of.  

From birth, she was destined to lack spiritual energy, and among the selected cultivators, she was the only one with a wood spiritual root.  

Lowering her voice, she tentatively asked, “And if one fails the assessment…”  

Before Shanshui could reply, Xiang Feng entered, wielding a crescent blade. “The king has decreed that failures will be made into fertilizer.”