Ghost Play

Changfu Town, town entrance.

Beside the stone tablet engraved with the town's name, Zheng Que stood with his head tilted back, motionless.

A colossal bone hand obscured the entire town. Yet, under the moonlight, its gloomy, pale bone color seemed to shimmer with the luster of flawless jade amidst the hazy night mist—terrifying, bizarre, and evil—without casting a single shadow on the ground.

This bone hand had no shadow!

Not only was there no shadow, but as it hovered in mid-air, the surroundings remained pristine. The bone color was as clear as if washed, and he could not detect even a shred of Yin Energy on it.

It was not that this bone hand lacked Yin Energy; it was that the realm of this bone hand was too high, exceeding the absolute limit of what his Spirit Eye Technique could probe!

He had only encountered this situation once before, and that was with his Master, Daoist Qu!

His Spirit Eye Technique was likewise unable to see through his Master's cultivation.

This massive, bizarre bone hand was not a ghost of the Tongue-Pulling Hell realm!

In an instant, Zheng Que understood why he hadn't been able to detect any abnormalities when observing those people without shadows using his Spirit Eye Technique all these days...

This giant bone hand was the culprit that had stolen everyone's shadows!

And those whose shadows had been stolen had all become a part of this giant bone hand!

Now, his own shadow had been targeted by this bone hand as well!

As this thought crossed his mind, Zheng Que's consciousness began to fade...

In a simple, crude bedroom, the newly replaced bright red canopy bed was covered with quilts embroidered with mandarin ducks playing in the water.

On a nearby table, a pair of crudely crafted dragon and phoenix candles were lit. The candle flames glowed warmly, bathing the entire room in a soft, alluring hue.

Zheng Que opened his eyes and looked around, his face filled with confusion. Where was this place?

"Husband..."

At that moment, a voice as soft as a mosquito's hum sounded from behind him.

Zheng Que immediately turned to look. He saw a figure wearing a slightly worn dress sitting on the edge of the bed. Her head was covered by a vibrant red cloth, and from her wide sleeves, a pair of fair, small hands emerged, nervously clasped together on her lap.

In the candlelight, the figure appeared somewhat blurry.

Zheng Que stared at her for a moment, and suddenly, he remembered something...

This was Sun Cui'er, the wife his mother had gone to great lengths to marry for him.

Was he... Zhao the Second?

Zheng Que felt intuitively that something was wrong, but his mind was incredibly rigid at this moment. Almost instinctively, he felt he should do something.

Thus, Zheng Que walked over to Sun Cui'er, lifted the red cloth covering her head, and revealed a face. It appeared pretty and fresh, but upon closer inspection, he found he could not clearly see her features no matter how hard he tried.

At the same time, Sun Cui'er kept her head bowed, not daring to look at Zheng Que's face, appearing extremely shy.

Looking at Sun Cui'er, a sudden, intense impulse surged from the bottom of Zheng Que's heart. He stepped forward immediately and pushed Sun Cui'er onto the bed.

Sun Cui'er did not resist; she lay on the bed, soft and boneless, as if overcome with bashfulness.

Zheng Que did not hesitate any longer and leaned down. However, just as his body was about to make further contact with Sun Cui'er, a chilling aura poured down from above his head. The shadow of death descended in an instant, and every pore on his body seemed to be screaming in terror.

This was a warning of death!

It was the keen intuition bestowed upon him by the Life and Death Book!

Zheng Que's previously hazy mind suddenly snapped into clarity.

Something is wrong!

I am Zheng Que, not Zhao the Second!

As his thoughts raced, he looked at Sun Cui'er again. This time, her beautiful yet blurred face suddenly became clear: pale cheeks, scarlet almond-shaped eyes, a slender and graceful figure, and a purple-black bruise around her neck.

This is Qing Li!

At this moment, there was no trace of shyness on Qing Li's face. Her expression was one of struggle, and she was constantly opening and closing her mouth, mouthing the words "human brat" at him, yet her body could not move at all, nor could she make a sound.

Zheng Que's expression changed. Knowing the situation was dire, he immediately scooped Qing Li up from the bed and ran directly toward the door.

Bang!

Zheng Que kicked the door open. Outside, gusts of eerie wind blew, and the leaves from the large tree in the courtyard fell like a downpour, slapping against the ground with a sound like a sudden rainstorm.

He did not hesitate, rushing out of the courtyard gate at a fast pace.

But the moment Zheng Que charged out of the gate, the surrounding scene shifted once again.

On the low wall sat straw that had mostly rotted away. There was a packed-dirt floor and three low-roofed huts. Near an old, railed well in the corner, Cui Ni'er was bowing her head, her sleeves rolled up, drawing water from the well and beating clothes with a wooden club.

Clang, clatter...

Amidst the monotonous sound of the beating, Zheng Que stood not far from the well, looking around in a slight daze as his consciousness became blurred once more.

At this moment, a familiar voice came from outside the door: "Cui Fugui, your daughter is of age now. Are we going to finalize this marriage or not?"

Zheng Que turned his head to look and saw a gray-haired woman wearing a worn skirt standing at the entrance. She held a basket in her hand filled with snacks and fruits, and she was staring at him without blinking.

This was Old Lady Zhao from the Zhao family. She had come to propose marriage on behalf of her son, who was named Zhao the Second.

I am Cui Fugui?

Zheng Que felt a surge of doubt. He glanced at Cui Ni'er, who was washing clothes nearby, and immediately replied, "No!"

"My Ni'er is not marrying anyone!"

"Get out of here now, and stop trying to set your sights on my daughter!"

Old Lady Zhao let out a cold snort, her voice brimming with fury as she threw out a parting threat: "You old geezer! You'd better hope your daughter is never left alone, or I'll snatch her away even if I have to use force!"

With that, she picked up her basket and turned to leave.

Zheng Que turned back to look at Cui Ni'er. She was still buried in her laundry when, suddenly, the girl spoke up: "Father, help me draw another bucket of water."

Hearing this, Zheng Que did not hesitate and immediately walked over to the well to draw water.

"Hee hee..."

"Drown you... drown you..."

The water at the bottom of the well shimmered, emitting the sounds of playful splashing. The crisp voice of a child echoed from within the well, yet Zheng Que did not find it the least bit strange. He grabbed the bucket by the well, tossed it down, and began to draw water.

Splash... splash... splash...

The wooden bucket, filled to the brim with well water, was quickly hauled up. It swayed as it rose, spilling a little water here and there. Under Zheng Que's steady pulling, the bucket rapidly neared the wellhead.

The daylight shone into the bucket, revealing the contents. It was a deep, vivid red—the bucket was filled entirely with blood.

Zheng Que still felt that nothing was amiss. He reached out, intending to pull the bucket, which was now just below the mouth of the well, up to the surface.

At that very moment, that familiar sensation of ice-cold water being poured over his head struck him once again.

Feeling a suffocating aura of death wash over him, Zheng Que jolted, snapping back to reality from his dazed state.

He hurriedly let go.

Plop!

The bucket fell back down.

Zheng Que turned to look at the person beside him. She was dressed in white, her long hair tied up high with a wooden hairpin. She was pale, delicate, and slender, with a shocking, purple-black bruise around her neck.

This was Qing Li, not Cui Ni'er!

Qing Li's expression was vacant; she was clearly far less lucid than she had been a moment ago, her hands still mechanically scrubbing the clothes.

Zheng Que's face changed. Just as he prepared to take Qing Li and flee this place, the scene around them shifted once again...