Chapter 145: The Rich and Lonely Pretty Boy

The woman collapsed to the ground, eyes open in death, and in an instant, her body dissolved into a mist of blood.

Jiang Niannian stood frozen in place, completely terrified.

The pretty boy remained where he was, making no move to harm her.

Though his eyes were covered with a strip of white cloth, Jiang Niannian still felt as if he were staring at her.

Strangely, her heart swelled with an inexplicable joy—almost as if she had been waiting for him for a long time.

The two of them stood there, facing each other for more than ten minutes.

Finally, the pretty boy slowly spoke, his voice trembling and hoarse:

“Come here.”

Jiang Niannian took a few steps back and asked, “Are you… human or ghost?”

The pretty boy didn’t get angry.

Instead, he walked toward her with an air of aristocratic grace and, as if handling a child, lifted her up into his arms.

Jiang Niannian: Is it really okay to throw yourself into someone’s arms like this right after meeting them?!

The scent of cedarwood, faint and ethereal, wrapped around her, making her feel dizzy.

This pretty boy actually smelled quite nice.

He was extraordinarily good-looking.

Jiang Niannian had never seen this face before, yet his excessive beauty gave her the illusion that she had encountered him in a dream.

His sickly, fragile appearance was completely at odds with what he had just done.

He had slaughtered that terrifying, monstrous woman without the slightest change in expression.

And now, he held her firmly in his arms, his posture exuding dominance.

After a while, Jiang Niannian started feeling awkward.

She struggled symbolically but couldn’t break free.

“Um… could you let go now?”

The man chuckled softly.

A golden light flashed in his palm, and the red umbrella in his hand vanished.

He leaned in close to her ear, whispering,

“Say my name, and I’ll let you go.”

Jiang Niannian was momentarily stunned.

How was she supposed to know his name?!

Seeing her remain silent, the man’s smile deepened.

His fingers lightly rubbed her earlobe as he murmured,

“Yin Buqi.”

“What?”

“My name is Yin Buqi. Remember it.”

“Mm.”

Jiang Niannian nodded obediently.

Now that she had calmed down, she carefully considered her situation.

Judging from what had just happened, it didn’t seem like he wanted to kill her.

Everyone else had disappeared, leaving her alone with no support.

Having another person around meant another source of protection.

No matter what, this pretty boy—though he looked sickly—was definitely stronger than her.

It was best to stick with him for now.

When the man asked if she was willing to go home with him, Jiang Niannian agreed without hesitation.

“It’s just a humble little dwelling, barely furnished. I hope you won’t mind,” he said.

Jiang Niannian was startled. How did he know her name?

Though she found it odd, she still replied, “I don’t mind, not at all.”

Yin Buqi casually conjured a lantern and led her forward.

Jiang Niannian asked, “How long have you been in the underworld?”

“Five hundred years, I suppose.”

“That long…”

As she walked, Jiang Niannian observed her surroundings.

She recognized the fiery red flowers growing wildly on the ground—they were called Manjusaka, or Red Spider Lilies.

But the trees… they resembled bamboo, yet their leaves and fruit were red.

Their fruits were as red as the setting sun, their leaves like a fiery glow against the sky.

Curious, she asked, “What kind of trees are these?”

“Southern Heaven Bamboo. It never sheds its leaves, and the colder the weather, the redder they become.”

“Your eyes…”

“They’re blind.”

Jiang Niannian was stunned.

She muttered, “But you act like it’s nothing… How did it happen?”

Yin Buqi lowered his head slightly, his delicate features carrying a hint of madness.

Then he let out a raspy chuckle, his tone filled with loathing and murderous intent:

“They were gouged out.”

Jiang Niannian wisely chose not to ask further, but for some reason, she felt a twinge of sympathy for this mysterious man.

The sky darkened, and soft snowflakes drifted gently down like floating willow catkins.

But the higher they climbed, the harsher the wind became, and the snow thickened.

The red bamboo along the path was already covered in a heavy layer of white.

Yin Buqi took off his white cloak and draped it over her shoulders, tying the strings gently at her neck.

In one hand, he carried the lantern; with the other, he held hers.

His fingers were cool to the touch, yet she was surprised to find that warmth flowed from them, spreading through her.

All around them, wails of ghosts and demons echoed through the darkness, but with him beside her, she felt incredibly safe.

A lone mountain covered in snow, a lantern lighting the southern sky—just like him, both intense and cold.

And yet, despite the atmosphere…

Jiang Niannian had only one thought in her mind.

A blind man lighting a lamp—what a waste of wax.

Before long, they reached the mountaintop, where a grand and lavish palace loomed before them.

Jiang Niannian stared at Yin Buqi with an expression of utter disbelief.

This is what you call a ‘humble little dwelling’? ‘Barely furnished’?

Yin Buqi spread his hands innocently.

“I’m very poor. Other than this house, I have nothing.”

He sounded so modest, yet it felt like blatant bragging.

Jiang Niannian: “…”

Not far from the palace, there was a gravestone.

She couldn’t tell whose grave it was, but a single line of small characters was carved into the stone:

Beneath the earth, you are buried; bones turned to dust.

In this world, I remain; hair covered in snow.

The handwriting was beautiful but deeply engraved, as if every stroke had been carved with blood and sorrow.

Above the palace doors, three bold words were inscribed: Soul-Enchantment Hall.

Inside, warmth enveloped her.

The contrast was stark—the eerie, terrifying darkness outside versus the clean, sacred, and extravagantly decorated interior.

However, despite the palace’s vast size, there were no servants.

No guards.

Jiang Niannian mentally labeled Yin Buqi as: a rich and lonely pretty boy.

Suddenly, a small black creature shot out from a corner, lunging at her—only to be intercepted by a pair of pale, slender hands.

Jiang Niannian took a closer look.

The little beast was pitch-black all over, except for a small ring of white fur around its right eye.

It had horns on its head, a long tail, and a body resembling a cat, though much larger.

Yin Buqi lifted it by the scruff of its neck.

Though he was smiling, his aura suddenly turned dark and oppressive.

He parted his lips and said lightly, “Will you leave on your own, or do I have to make you?”

The little black creature shuddered, gave Jiang Niannian one last reluctant look, then wriggled free from Yin Buqi’s grasp and fled.

Yin Buqi turned to her and said, “Its name is Coalball.”

“Oh.”

What a lazy name.

…

After her bath, Jiang Niannian stared at the breathtakingly handsome man lying on the bed, his robe casually open at the front.

She swallowed hard, hesitated for a long time, then finally asked:

“Are you sure you want to sleep with me?”

Surely, in such a massive palace, there were other rooms?

“Yes.”

Yin Buqi scooted over, making space for her.

Jiang Niannian looked at him for a moment, then shut the doors, closed the windows, and climbed into bed.

It’s just sleep. It’s not like I’ll lose a piece of flesh. I’m not scared.

The man turned to face her, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

His pale face carried a chilling, sickly beauty.

Strangely, even though his eyes were covered, she still felt as if he were staring straight at her—intensely, possessively.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll do something to you?” he asked.

Jiang Niannian clutched the blanket tightly.

“No. You’re a good person.”

In truth, she was absolutely terrified.