Though Ruyi never harbored beautiful fantasies about human nature in this world, she had never imagined that a father would ruthlessly kill his daughter.

It wasn’t until the long blade in the servant’s hand pierced through her chest and blood splattered onto the blackened stone slabs that she suddenly understood.

No wonder when Liu Ruyi was at her wits’ end, the first person she sought help from wasn’t her father. No wonder she could only use her flesh and blood as payment to obtain protection.

Even familial affection in this human world was as fragile as paper.

Grand Preceptor Liu stood high above on the steps, uneasiness in his eyes, but more so the relief of having survived a calamity. He clasped his hands: “Since you already know everything, go down and reunite with your mother. In the future, during Qingming and Cold Food festivals, I’ll burn a stick of incense for your mother and daughter, which can be considered remembering old affections.”

Blood gushed from her chest, staining half of her plain jacket red. Ruyi’s eyes moved slightly as she staggered to cover the long knife at her heart, weakly saying: “Aren’t you afraid that we, mother and daughter, will become vengeful ghosts and come to claim your life?”

Seeing that she couldn’t possibly survive such an injury, Grand Preceptor Liu decided to be frank: “Since your mother’s grave has a formation to bind living souls, naturally yours won’t lack one either. I don’t believe in the existence of souls in this world, but if they truly exist, you won’t be able to escape either.”

Her pupils contracted sharply as Ruyi sucked in a cold breath.

What a ruthless man, to place a formation on his deceased wife’s grave? Setting aside whether people have souls after death, this action alone deserved divine punishment.

Liu Ruyi’s mother’s death was not just from ordinary consumption; it was most likely connected to this man as well.

Staggering two steps, Ruyi knelt in the pool of blood, unwilling and resentful. After struggling for a moment, her head finally drooped down. Her frail body under the autumn noon sun was like a withered flower.

Grand Preceptor Liu hurriedly ordered someone to check her pulse.

“Reporting to the master, she’s completely dead.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Grand Preceptor Liu waved his hand: “Find a place to put her for now. When it gets dark, transport her to Cang’er Mountain.”

“Yes.”

Black clouds drifted from the horizon, and by the hour of You, rain began to fall. The wind howled mournfully, making the usually bustling Lin’an City appear desolate and forlorn.

“Wait a bit longer?” Zhou Tingchuan rode his horse alongside a carriage, holding an umbrella in his hand, sighing repeatedly. “My lord said that even if you don’t want to stay at the Ministry of Justice, you can find another leisurely position that would at least ensure a worry-free life.”

There was no response from inside the carriage, as if her mind was made up.

Ahead was the Ten-Li Pavilion, where they would part ways. Zhou Tingchuan’s eyes reddened again: “Who knows when we’ll meet again? Fuman, at least bid me farewell face to face.”

The carriage curtain finally lifted, revealing a petite woman with a slender waist and lotus-like face, appearing to be fifteen or sixteen years old, yet already wearing a married woman’s hair arrangement.

She skillfully gestured to Zhou Tingchuan in sign language: Lin’an is like a dead city. If I stay here, I can’t even catch my breath. Take good care of yourself. We may never meet again.

Zhou Tingchuan wanted to keep her, but seeing her mourning clothes that she hadn’t yet removed, it was as if he could see the snow-white paper money she had scattered for her deceased husband floating before his eyes.

A piece of paper money was blown over by the wind and slapped against his cheek.

Zhou Tingchuan came back to his senses and removed it in amazement: “Can this float out of my mind?”

Hua Fuman was speechless at his thought for a moment, then stood up and looked past him toward the back.

Someone’s funeral procession was passing by. There was neither a soul-guiding banner in front nor lantern bearers, just three or four servants in black, perfunctorily scattering a few pieces of paper money before hurrying toward Cang’er Mountain.

Fuman frowned. She tugged at Zhou Tingchuan’s sleeve and gestured to him: That group of people is suspicious. It doesn’t look like a funeral, more like they’re disposing of a murder victim.

Zhou Tingchuan looked over in confusion: “Isn’t this quite normal? When a prestigious family has a servant die, this is already considered a generous burial.”

Fuman shook her head, wanting to say more, but felt it unnecessary.

She was no longer a female clerk at the Ministry of Justice, so why worry about cases?

Sighing lightly, she bowed to bid Zhou Tingchuan farewell and returned to her carriage.

Perhaps because her journey home also passed through Cang’er Mountain, Fuman’s carriage traveled alongside those funeral servants for a while.

“Thud.”

A sound suddenly came from inside the coffin.

The four servants carrying the coffin were startled, thinking they had misheard, and looked suspiciously toward the nearby carriage.

Fuman also curiously lifted the carriage curtain, her eyes looking puzzledly at that thin coffin.

“Thud!” Another sound, more obvious than before, as if someone inside the coffin was knocking.

The servants were already feeling guilty, and hearing this ghostly sound, they immediately became so frightened that their legs went weak and they fell into the mud. The coffin on their shoulders tumbled down, breaking one servant’s leg. He wailed loudly, while the other servants, terrified, abandoned the coffin and ran.

Fuman had her carriage stopped and jumped down to walk over quickly.

“There’s a ghost, there’s a ghost!” The servant with the broken leg pointed at the coffin, his face pale, struggling not to let her help him.

Fuman looked in the direction he pointed. The coffin lid had fallen open, and half a person had fallen out – a richly dressed young lady, pale as paper, with a long knife stuck horizontally through her chest, completely motionless.

She turned to gesture to the servant: That’s a dead person, not a ghost.

“Ahhhhh—” His pupils suddenly contracted sharply. The servant saw something unknown, and ignoring his broken leg, he used his other leg to support himself and hopped and crawled away.

At the same time, her hired coachman also screamed and drove the carriage away at high speed.

Terrible, her luggage!

Fuman got up to chase after it, but after running a few steps, realized she couldn’t possibly catch up.

She frowned and turned back.

In the misty rain, the corpse leaned against a roadside willow tree, her dress spread out like begonia flowers. The blood beneath her skirt was diluted by the rain, winding and spreading in all directions, looking like the roots of an old tree, or like a strange formation.

The scene would have been manageable if she hadn’t opened her eyes.

A flash of white light appeared on the horizon. This completely cold corpse sat up, twisted her somewhat stiff neck, and looked over with lazy, long eyes.

Fuman: “…”

Even having dealt with corpses for over five years, she couldn’t handle this shock.

Her feet felt as heavy as lead. She stared wide-eyed but couldn’t lift her feet, only able to watch this bizarre scene unfold before her eyes.

The corpse stood up and muttered, “Why is it raining again?”

She then gathered her blood-stained skirt and said mournfully, “Ruined. This was worth quite a bit of silver.”

As she spoke, she raised her pale wrist and easily pulled out the long knife that had been stuck in her heart.

If before, Fuman still held onto a sliver of hope that this person might be feigning death and the knife was fake, at this moment, seeing that a genuine long knife and the rust-smelling fresh blood spurting from the wound, she was truly stunned.

Ruyi didn’t realize at all that she had frightened someone. She only looked around melancholically: “How am I supposed to get back? If it gets any later, there’ll be thunder again – Hey, little miss, you look familiar. Could you take me back to Lin’an City?”

Her hand grasped Fuman’s wrist.

A warm sensation was transmitted from her palm. Fuman shivered, stood dazed for a moment, then suddenly burst into tears with a wail.