Tang Qisheng moved very slowly, matching First Lady's pace as she walked. In the moonlight, the scene had a strange sort of harmony, as if the figures moving weren't a man and a ghost, but two ghosts.
His stiff steps fell on the bluestone path. Tang Qisheng tried to steady himself, but some things were simply beyond his control.
He wanted to survive. Instinct urged him to get away from First Lady, but reason held him back.
Deep down, he knew that the moment he discovered there was no embroidered ball or human head in the basket, his fate that night had already been sealed.
After all, the intelligence had been wrong, and under the circumstances, the odds of escaping unscathed were next to none. He could only take a gamble: that First Lady was a headless corpse and that the crucial embroidered ball had taken the place of her head, concealed beneath her veil.
But reality soon doused his hopes. Even through a layer of cloth, the sensation beneath his fingertips made it clear: this was a real human head. The peculiar feel of the skin couldn't be faked.
It wasn't the embroidered ball.
Tang Qisheng's blood ran cold. Along with it came deep confusion and frustration. Where was the real embroidered ball?
He didn't even need to look closely. First Lady had a well-proportioned figure; there was absolutely no way she could have hidden the ball on her body.
The fact that the ball wasn't on First Lady was impossible for Tang Qisheng to accept.
But when his fingertips brushed near First Lady's ear, his hand stopped. A moment later, his expression changed too.
Everyone saw it. Even from a distance, they could easily tell Tang Qisheng had found some kind of clue.
The next second, to everyone's