Changfu Town, at the town entrance.
Beside the stone stele carved with the town's name, Zheng Que stood motionless, his head tilted back.
The enormous bone hand blotted out the entire town. Yet beneath the moonlight, its gloomy, pallid bones glimmered through the hazy night mist like flawless jade—terrifying, bizarre, and sinister. Still, it cast not the slightest shadow on the ground.
This bone hand had no shadow!
Not only was there no shadow; it also hovered in midair, its surroundings utterly clear. Its bones were clean and distinct, and he couldn't see even a trace of yin energy on it.
It wasn't that the bone hand had no yin energy. Its realm was simply too high, beyond the utmost limits of what his [Spirit Eye Technique] could detect!
He had encountered this only once before, on one person: his master, Daoist Qu!
The [Spirit Eye Technique] couldn't see through his master's cultivation, either.
This enormous, bizarre bone hand wasn't a ghost of the [Tongue-Pulling Hell] realm!
In an instant, Zheng Que understood why, these past few days, he'd been unable to find anything unusual when he used the [Spirit Eye Technique] to observe those people without shadows...
This giant bone hand was the culprit that had stolen everyone's shadows!
And those whose shadows had been stolen had all become part of this giant bone hand!
Now, the bone hand had set its sights on his shadow, too!
As these thoughts crossed his mind, Zheng Que's consciousness began to blur...
※※※
In a shabby side room, beneath a newly changed crimson bed canopy, the quilt was embroidered with mandarin ducks playing in the water.
On the table not far away stood a pair of crudely made dragon-and-phoenix candles. Their warm flames bathed the whole room in a hazy, romantic glow.
Zheng Que opened his eyes and surveyed his surroundings, confusion on his face. What place was this?
"Husband..."
Just then, a voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz came from behind him.
Zheng Que immediately turned to look. A figure in a slightly worn skirt sat on the edge of the bed, her head covered by a bright red cloth. From her wide sleeves peeked a pair of fair hands, clasped nervously in her lap.
The candlelight blurred her figure.
Zheng Que stared at her for a moment, then suddenly remembered something...
This was Sun Cui'er, the bride his mother had gone to such trouble to find for him.
He was... Zhao the Second?
Zheng Que had an instinctive sense that something was wrong, but at that moment his thoughts were stiff and sluggish. Almost by instinct, he felt he ought to do something.
So Zheng Que went over to Sun Cui'er and lifted the red cloth from her head, revealing a face that seemed lovely and fresh. But no matter how closely he looked, he couldn't make out her features.
At the same time, Sun Cui'er kept her head lowered, not daring to look at Zheng Que's face, seemingly very shy.
As Zheng Que gazed at Sun Cui'er, a powerful urge suddenly surged up inside him. He immediately stepped forward and shoved her down onto the bed.
Sun Cui'er didn't resist. She lay there, boneless and seemingly overcome with shyness.
Zheng Que didn't hesitate. He bent down, but just as his body was about to press closer to Sun Cui'er, a bone-chilling sensation seemed to pour over him from above. The shadow of death abruptly descended, and every pore on his body seemed to scream in terror.
This was a warning of death!
The keen intuition bestowed on him by the [Life and Death Book]!
Zheng Que's hazy consciousness snapped clear.
Something was wrong!
He was Zheng Que, not Zhao the Second!
His thoughts raced. When he looked at Sun Cui'er again, her beautiful yet blurry face suddenly came into focus: pale cheeks, blood-red almond eyes, a slender, graceful figure, and a purple-black bruise around her neck.
This was Qing Li!
There was not the slightest trace of shyness on Qing Li's face now. Her expression strained as she repeatedly moved her lips, silently shaping the words "Human Race brat." But her body couldn't move at all, and she couldn't make a sound.
Zheng Que's expression changed. Knowing something was wrong, he immediately scooped Qing Li up from the bed and fled straight for the door.
Bang!
Zheng Que kicked the door open. Outside, yin winds howled through the courtyard. Leaves whirled from the great tree, beating against the ground like a sudden downpour, their patter sharp and urgent.
He didn't hesitate and hurried out through the courtyard gate.
But the instant Zheng Que crossed the gate, the scene around him changed again.
Rotten straw covered the low walls; the packed-earth ground stretched before three squat thatched rooms. Beside an old well with a weathered wooden railing in the corner, Cui Ni'er had her sleeves rolled up and her head lowered as she drew well water and beat the laundry with a wooden club.
Thump, thump, thump...
Amid the monotonous pounding, Zheng Que stood not far from the well, looking around in a daze as his consciousness began to blur once more.
Just then, a voice that sounded familiar came from outside the gate. "Cui Fugui, your daughter's grown up. Are we going through with this marriage or not?"
Zheng Que turned to look. A woman with graying hair and a slightly worn skirt stood at the entrance. She held a basket containing pastries, fruit, and the like, and stared at him without blinking.
This was Old Lady Zhao of the Zhao household. She had come to ask for her son, Zhao the Second, to marry the girl.
He was Cui Fugui??
Puzzled, Zheng Que glanced at Cui Ni'er, who was washing clothes nearby, then immediately replied, "No!"
"My Ni'er isn't marrying anyone!"
"Leave now, and stop thinking about laying a hand on my Ni'er!"
Old Lady Zhao snorted and snapped furiously, "You old fool! You'd better not let your daughter out of your sight, or I'll drag her home by force!"
With that, she picked up her basket and turned to leave.
Zheng Que turned back to Cui Ni'er. She was still bent over her laundry when, all of a sudden, the girl spoke. "Father, draw me another bucket of water."
Zheng Que didn't hesitate. He immediately went to the well to draw water.
"Hee-hee..."
"Drown you... drown you..."
Rippling water glimmered at the bottom of the well, where the sounds of children playing and splashing rang out. Their clear voices echoed through the shaft. Zheng Que didn't find anything strange about it at all. He grabbed the bucket beside the well, dropped it straight down, and began to draw water.
Splash... splash... splash...
The wooden bucket soon filled with well water and was pulled up. As it swayed, a little water sloshed out along the way. Zheng Que tugged it rapidly toward the well mouth.
The light revealed what was inside the bucket: it was full of crimson liquid, a whole bucket of blood.
Zheng Que still sensed nothing amiss. He reached out to haul up the bucket, now just below the well mouth.
At that moment, that familiar sensation of ice-cold water pouring over his head struck again.
Feeling the overwhelming aura of death, Zheng Que jolted awake from his daze.
He hurriedly let go.
Plop!
The bucket fell back down.
Zheng Que turned toward Cui Ni'er beside him. She wore white, her long hair tied high and pinned with a wooden hairpin. She was pale and lovely, slender and graceful, with a shocking purple-black bruise around her neck.
This was Qing Li, not Cui Ni'er!
Qing Li looked bewildered. She was clearly no longer as lucid as before, and her hands continued mechanically rubbing the clothes.
Zheng Que's expression changed. Just as he was about to take Qing Li and flee, the scene around them changed again...
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