Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
I sighed and took out a handkerchief to wipe away her tears.
At first, I found the name Rou Er somewhat familiar, but since she was sent by the King of the Underworld, I kept my guard up and only observed her in secret.
I never expected her to be Jian Rou, and considering she was captured by the Grim Reaper, it must have something to do with the King of the Underworld. Keeping Jian Rou around likely served not just to restrain Shizui but also to involve Molin. Otherwise, there would be no reason for her to appear at this time.
Now that I knew she was Jian Rou, I understood that some things were better left unsaid. She clearly had a hard time letting go, and I feared that saying too much would only worry her.
"Don't cry anymore; you'll see him again," I said, holding her hand and patting the back of it with a smile. "Shizui has mentioned you to me; every time he does, he wears a happy smile. He has always loved you deeply."
"I know," Jian Rou replied, tears streaming down her face as she bit her lip, trying to hold back more tears. "But I also know he has been suffering greatly because of my death. I think Molin must hate him for it. But Shizui promised me he would take good care of Molin; I just wonder how Molin is doing."
It seemed she had no idea about Molin's situation.
I hesitated, pressing my lips together tightly and lowering my head slightly, my gaze cast downward.
I recalled what Lianchi had told me about the two ways to save Molin. If I revealed this to Jian Rou, she would undoubtedly offer her soul without hesitation. But she was already in such a pitiable state; I didn't want to add to her troubles.
So, after taking a deep breath, I chose to keep it hidden.
I wiped away her tears and changed the subject. "You mentioned earlier that Lianchi was locked up by the King? What happened?"
As soon as I brought it up, she straightened up and said seriously, "I don't know, but—"
"When there are no outsiders around, you don't need to refer to yourself as a servant."
She paused in surprise before smiling and nodding. Then she continued, "When I went to his palace looking for him, the guarding Grim Reaper informed me that Lord Lianchi has been confined by the King and placed under a barrier, unable to leave the palace. No one is allowed near him."
"What happened then?"
"It was the day after it rained. As for the reason, it's unknown."
"The day it rained?"
I frowned, reaching up to brush my hair that had fallen down, curling it around my fingers before it slowly slipped away. I muttered to myself that the rain in the Underworld came after Lianchi informed me about Molin and Stunning.
Previously, when Lianchi came to find me, the King of Hell must have known, yet he did not intervene. This sudden house arrest must be because Lianchi revealed too much to me, provoking the King.
My hand slowly clenched into a fist. Lianchi treated me well; although we couldn't be open friends, I still regarded him as one in my heart.
He often seemed like he wouldn't help you and would only bully you, but behind the scenes, he would assist you, like when he looked into Qin Ling's whereabouts.
So now that he was confined, the first thing that came to my mind was that it was due to my actions.
A sigh washed over me. If I were to plead for him, the King would likely become even more displeased. If it truly affected Lianchi because of me, I would feel guilty. Looking out at the gloomy weather outside, the weight in my heart grew heavier.
After a slow morning passed, in the afternoon, Jian Rou was called by Aunt Song for help. She said there was a new batch of maids that had arrived and they were short-staffed.
I initially didn't want her to go because if Jian Rou stayed here, I could prevent her from running into Molin. If she went out and encountered him, something would surely go wrong.
But Aunt Song mentioned it was only in the inner palace and not the outer palace, which eased my worries.
With nothing else to do, I decided to take a walk. After all, these days the King of Hell had not restricted my movements; I wasn't being followed by numerous spirits like before.
So I thought about wandering near the Underworld Palace. As long as I didn't get too close, it should be fine.
Guided by my faint memory, I headed toward the largest hall of the Underworld Palace. Although the Underworld Palace was vast, there were very few spirits visible; aside from the duty-bound reapers, generally no one else was around—they all stayed where they were supposed to be.
As I made my way forward, all I could see were the Grim Reapers, clad in their black and white attire. It wasn't until a red figure appeared in my line of sight that my heart skipped a beat.
The red Grim Reaper outfit was striking and imposing, exuding an eerie aura that felt distinctly different. Just the silhouette of this Reaper sent chills down my spine.
It reminded me instantly of Qin Ling.
But he had a head of neatly cropped black hair.
I stared for a long moment, hesitating before I decided to follow him, still feeling uneasy.
His steps were slow and deliberate, each one heavy and steady, exuding a sense of competence that set him apart from others. The cold aura surrounding him was like that of a snow woman, capable of freezing everything around him in frost.
Just as I reached out to grasp the flowing red fabric, I saw the man before me flicker and become transparent, then flash back to his original form. The pale skin of his neck was soon enveloped in darkness, merging with the black hair that clung to the back of his neck, completely covering the exposed fair skin.
My hand trembled slightly as I called out, "Qin Ling."
He paused for a moment, then slowly turned around. His striking features were marred by a deep black mark that covered half of his face. The right side of his eye was swallowed by darkness, merging into it, radiating an abyssal blackness.
The left side of his face remained as pale as ever, but even his gaze was darkened.
I took a step back in fright, frozen by his unfamiliar and icy stare. A hoarse and heavy voice slipped from his lips, "What do you want?"
I was taken aback; I had called him Qin Ling purely because of his aura. No matter how cold Molin was, he could never exude such an intensity. To my surprise, he did not deny it, leaving me momentarily at a loss for words.
He let out a cold laugh, his dark eyes radiating a chilling deadness. "Are you disappointed? I am Qin Ling and not Molin?"
"I—" I opened my mouth but couldn't find the words to explain.
They now shared a soul yet remained unmerged, fighting desperately against each other while still unable to escape death. Qin Ling's gaze made me realize that the pain they endured was something I could never understand or feel.
In his eyes, I was merely an outsider, speaking cool words.
"Don't you want him to live? But now he's under my control. I tell you, as long as I have a breath left, I will devour him and survive. In the end, it will definitely be me who lives."
A madness flickered in his eyes, and his black-and-white face appeared extremely ferocious against the gloomy sky, causing the passing reapers to steer clear of him, lest they incur unnecessary wrath.
Yet, from him, I sensed a heart-wrenching powerlessness.
Qin Ling was suffering. From the moment he was separated from Molin by Molin's master, he became an unwanted existence, one that could be killed at any moment.
Thus, no one knew how dark those sealed days were except for him. For him, the appearance of the King of Hell was a chance for rebirth; with hope and experience of living, he naturally wanted more time to live and savor the beauty of life.
But ultimately, what the King of Hell did was driven by self-interest, not genuine desire to help him. Whether Qin Ling realized this or not was irrelevant; it was a fact.
But I knew that what he truly wished for was to eliminate the King of Hell. No one in this world, including the underworld, wanted him to live—not even me. My closeness to him, my following him, was all for Molin.
I could not refute this because saving Molin was one of my objectives.
I didn't know if it was due to our interactions that had stirred my emotions, but I found myself hesitating between him and Molin. If there were a way to separate them while allowing both to survive, I would certainly pursue it.
But there wasn't.
One of them had to die for the other to become a complete entity. Or perhaps they would both be devoured and disappear entirely.
Being abandoned like trash—desired when wanted and discarded when not—was something that no one could bear.
Whether human or ghost, all had their pride. Regardless of completeness or incompleteness, they had once existed in such a real way.
Through Qin Ling's cold gaze, I saw his desperate struggle to live despite being denied that chance. The flames of anger consumed his consciousness; since everyone wanted him dead, he would fight desperately to live—he absolutely had to survive.
“Qin Ling,” I bit my lip, furrowing my brow, my eyes filled with concern. Before I could speak, he coldly shouted, “Don’t look at me with those eyes. I don’t need your pity. I live only for myself, only for the king.”
His anger was rising, and my heart ached even more as I tightened my intertwined fingers.
“Qin Ling, I know you’re unwilling, and I understand that in this moment, you won’t believe anything I say. But if there were a way to resolve this without harm, I would certainly take it. To me, you are not Molin; you are an independent soul, a new life, a ghost named Qin Ling, not a mere accessory to Molin. Although my initial approach had its purpose, I am not you and cannot experience your true feelings from your perspective. All I want to say is that every soul has the right to live. Whether it is you or Qin Ling who survives in the end, both of you will always be my friend, Anxin. I will never forget every moment of this life.”
Qin Ling frowned, his eyes shimmering with an inner light as if he were struggling.
Suddenly, he cradled his head in his hands and shook it violently, looking utterly tormented—like someone suffering from a headache—bending over one moment and standing straight the next, his steps unsteady as he flickered between shades of red and black.
“Qin Ling, what’s wrong?”
Seeing him like this made me anxious. I reached out to touch him, but as soon as my fingers brushed against his clothing, a force pushed me away. Caught off guard, I braced myself for a fall, instinctively protecting my belly to ensure nothing happened to the baby.
But instead of the imagined pain, I found myself falling into a broad embrace that carried a familiar scent.
“Anxin, what’s wrong?”
I looked up to find that the person who had caught me was Shizui.
Comment 0 Comment Count