A’Shui pulled out the silver hairpin from her hair knot and silently watched Tang Lici’s retreating figure.

Always very… cherished…

But Tang Lici’s affection was sometimes light, sometimes heavy, sometimes real, sometimes false… and sometimes… harmful.

That silver hairpin—she couldn’t wear it, couldn’t keep it, couldn’t abandon it. Gripping it in her hand caused her fingers sharp pain, and she suddenly realized that what Tang Lici truly wanted was simply for her to suffer for him.

He liked her and Fengfeng to suffer for him, to grieve for him—ideally, to die for him.

Tang Lici reached the gates of Wangting Manor, picked up the door knocker, and rapped gently several times. Before long, a little maid with twin hair buns opened the door and looked at Tang Lici curiously. “You are…”

Tang Lici’s features appeared very gentle. He bent down and said softly, “I’ve come looking for someone. Do you have an uncle in your house with a red snake tattooed on his face? I’m his friend.”

The little maid was probably only thirteen or fourteen years old. Upon hearing this, she nodded. “Uncle is sleeping in the cage, but Sister said I can’t let people come in to see him.”

Tang Lici spoke even more gently, “What would it take to go in and see him?”

The little maid smiled with innocent charm, “Sister said I have to play a game with you. If you win, I’ll let you go in and see him.”

“Play a game? What kind of game?” Tang Lici smiled. The little maid before him had bright eyes and dark hair, looking extremely adorable. “What’s your name?”

The little maid pointed at her own nose, “I’m called Guan’er. What’s your name?”

Tang Lici’s eyebrows curved upward, “My surname is Tang, called Tang Lici.”

“Brother Tang,” Guan’er opened the door a crack and beckoned, “Come in.”

Tang Lici looked up. Behind the door wasn’t a garden. Behind the innocent and charming little maid was a shallow pool of water. The water wasn’t deep, but it reeked with a pungent odor. Above the water hung a thin rope extending directly to the rooftop opposite. Needless to say, this pool water must not be touched, while the buildings across appeared simple and elegant, peaceful and serene, as if not a single person was inside.

Guan’er leaped onto the rope and took something from her bosom, gripping it in her hand. “Let’s play dice. If the number you roll is higher than mine, you move forward. If my number is higher than yours, you move backward.” She said very seriously, “If you retreat to where there’s no rope, you jump into the pool. If I let you walk to the other side, I jump into the pool.”

Tang Lici clapped his hands, “It’s a deal.”

Guan’er retreated to the other end of the rope. Tang Lici leaped onto the rope. The two were separated by two zhang, the rope swaying slightly beneath their feet, their shadows in the pool also swaying endlessly.

“Begin!” Guan’er raised her right hand high and released it. Two dice fell into the pool. Both sets of eyes swept downward simultaneously—she had rolled a “six” and a “one.” But it was only a momentary glance. The dice in the pool bubbled up with white foam, obscuring the numbers, seeming about to dissolve. Guan’er clapped and called out, “Hurry, hurry, or the dice will be gone and we can’t play the game anymore.”

Tang Lici smiled slightly and flicked his sleeve. Those two dice suddenly shot up from the water. Before they could fall into his hands, they both flipped in midair and fell back into the pool together. Both sets of eyes swept down simultaneously—one “six,” one “three.” Tang Lici moved forward two steps, raised his hand with a smile, “Your turn.”

Guan’er’s eyes rolled twice, “Ah, why didn’t you reach out to catch them?”

Tang Lici said softly, “I’m afraid of pain.”

Guan’er shook her head and took out two more dice from her bosom, casting them into the water. The two dice that had fallen into the pool earlier had already been half-corroded by the pool water, their numbers completely indiscernible. The dice entered the water, floated in the pool water, and settled as a “three” and a “five.”

Tang Lici flicked his sleeve with hands clasped behind his back. The pool water splashed up, and with a “snap,” the two dice leaped into the air, shaking off dozens of water droplets that splattered toward Guan’er. Guan’er was startled and leaped upward to avoid the pool water, only to see the two dice flip to show two sixes. She was immediately stunned. Just as she leaped up, Tang Lici had already advanced four steps, his face wearing a gentle smile, “Sorry, I win again.”

Guan’er reached into her bosom again and took out new dice, “This time I definitely won’t let you win!” She released her hand, letting the dice fall into the water. The numbers that turned up were also two sixes—the highest possible.

Tang Lici smiled slightly. Guan’er’s vision blurred, and suddenly Tang Lici’s face was before hers, face to face, nose tip to nose tip. She screamed in fright and tried to dodge backward, but Tang Lici followed like a shadow, still facing her. She saw those eyes before her appearing extraordinarily black and enormous, like some fierce beast was about to surface from the depths of an extremely deep black pool. She heard him say softly, “Guan’er, playing games is fine, but before cheating, you should make sure the person you’re playing with won’t suddenly say to you… ‘I’m not playing anymore.'”

With a light “snap,” Guan’er spat out a mouthful of fresh blood toward the pool with a “wah.” She watched helplessly as her fresh blood produced a wisp of white smoke in the pool water. Tang Lici had lightly patted her chest with one palm, then picked her up and placed her at the doorway of the building behind the rope. He patted her head, pushed open the door, and walked inside.

She was placed at the doorway like a broken doll, unable to move, looking up at the blue sky and sun.

He hadn’t thrown her into the pool, nor had he killed her.

Though she was only fourteen years old, she had actually already killed many people.

Guan’er’s chest rose and fell as she gasped, looking at the sky. Before her eyes was an open expanse—no one was there.

In the room behind Guan’er, there was no one. Tang Lici pushed open the door and entered. Inside was a Buddhist hall, but there was no Buddha statue on the altar. In the depths of the dim curtains, where a Buddha statue should have been enshrined, hung a portrait of a woman. If not for Tang Lici’s sharp eyesight, he might not have noticed it at all. A stick of incense burned before the portrait. The incense had just finished burning not long ago, and the entire Buddhist hall still lingered with that faint, ethereal fragrance.

Tang Lici carefully examined the portrait. It was painted very lifelike, not with ordinary brushwork. Even some rare pigments had been mixed in, giving it somewhat the flavor of an oil painting. In his view, it was most likely painted by Liu Yan, depicting a young girl dressed in pink robes.

The girl’s features were very similar to Xifang Tao, yet it wasn’t Xifang Tao.

She was slightly younger than Xifang Tao, with fluffy hair arranged in a bun and several strands of black hair cascading down to rest on her chest. She wore a very familiar peach-colored dress, exactly like the ones Xifang Tao often wore. This girl had a very pointed chin, a beautiful oval face, her eyelashes lowered as if looking at the ground. On the right side of her neck was a small black mole. From what could be seen in the painting, she sat beneath a peach tree where the blossoms bloomed magnificently, the ground covered with petals that mingled with her peach-colored dress, creating an appearance of gentle dreaminess.

But this portrait was not painted from life.

It was a sketch of a girl’s portrait with other background elements added to complete the painting. Tang Lici stared intently at that portrait. Based on the original foundation, this girl sat with closed eyes, leaning against something, her hair somewhat disheveled, her posture very stiff—very likely… a corpse.

If Liu Yan had painted a portrait of a corpse, and then Xifang Tao hung it here for worship, this girl in the painting must be extraordinary. Judging from the traces around the Buddhist hall, this painting had been hanging here for worship for quite some time. Wangting Manor as a Pleasure House stronghold must have existed for several years as well. Could it all be for the sake of enshrining this portrait?

All around was silent. Tang Lici stood before the portrait for a while, then suddenly reached out to tear it down, tucked it into his robes, passed through the back door, and walked out of the Buddhist hall.

Behind the Buddhist hall was a garden. Artificial mountains and flowing water, exotic flowers and rare plants, tall forests and great trees had been exquisitely crafted to create a scene of earthly wonder, as if all the stunning and enviable beautiful scenery in this world had been integrated into this garden of moderate size. Tang Lici raised his eyebrows and smiled slightly. The person who built this courtyard was truly remarkable. However, the fairyland-like courtyard still contained no people—everything was like an empty manor.

Was Shen Langhun truly in this manor? Tang Lici parted the branches of the winter plum tree and saw corpses lying quietly on the ground among the stone and wood, no fewer than twenty or thirty people. Most were Demonic Soul death warriors wearing black embroidered tight-fitting clothes, and several others of unknown identity also lay quietly on the ground. The bodies appeared uninjured, but each had a red mark right in the center of their forehead. Tang Lici looked up and saw that among the trees, an iron cage hung suspended in midair. The outside of the iron cage was densely crawling with withered brown poisonous snakes, so he hadn’t noticed it at first. In the iron cage, there seemed to be a person.