Chapter Forty-Two: Jingchuan, Comfort Me

But she had no mood to comfort her father right now. She said directly, “I understand. You can leave now. I won’t go back on my promise.”

That was exactly what her father feared. Now that he had her reassurance, he didn’t linger any longer. He left the room immediately and even thoughtfully closed the door behind him.

He didn’t sense anything unusual. Perhaps, he thought, his daughter simply felt emotional after seeing her mother’s belongings and wanted to cry alone.

After her father left, Qingli sat on the bed and turned the piece of letter paper over and over in her hands.

“Cai Cai, is it possible to restore this letter paper?”

[Host, you can try. There’s a restoration potion, twenty points per bottle.]

Qingli already owed 5.6 points. With so many debts, she was beyond caring. She’d just find another chance to leech some points off Lu Ziyi and Shen Jingrong. Without hesitation, she said, “Redeem it!”

[Got it!]

As soon as Cai Cai finished speaking, a bottle of green potion appeared in Qingli’s hand, conveniently fitted with a spray nozzle.

[Host, spray it twice on the letter paper and see what happens!] Cai Cai reminded her.

Qingli did as instructed, spraying twice over the letter paper. But the page remained blank.

Though disappointed, this only confirmed her suspicions: this paper was protected by spiritual power, and its contents had vanished once unlocked.

[Ah, it seems it can’t be restored…] Cai Cai’s regretful voice sounded in her mind.

Qingli wasn’t fixated on the letter. She comforted, “It’s fine, there’s still the box! Let’s see what’s inside.”

She examined the red lacquered box. Its style was so vintage, and to her surprise, there was a blood sigil marked on its surface.

A blood sigil—a simple array that could only be opened with blood.

The original owner’s mother grew ever more enigmatic.

Qingli didn’t hesitate any longer. She hadn’t expected anyone else in this world to know about the war between gods and demons. She had to discover what her mother had left for her.

What if her appearance here was due to some extraordinary fate?

She had to understand this, not letting any clue slip by.

She pricked her finger and let a drop of blood fall onto the box.

As the array encountered blood, it activated. A sudden mist erupted from within, engulfing her.

Before she could react, she lost consciousness.

At the same time, Xie Jinchuan was no longer at the company; he was driving toward the Lu family’s old estate.

Just ten minutes earlier, a frantic call had come from one of the Lu family servants.

“Mr. Xie, the young master is making a scene at home!”

“The old master has been angered to the point of collapse, and no one in the family can control him. The old master wants you to come back and take a look!”

“He refuses to go abroad no matter what, and he’s throwing a tantrum right now!”

So, Xie Jinchuan, in the midst of work, had no choice but to head back. As it was almost time to get off work anyway, he intended to resolve Lu Ziyi’s issue, then return home to cook for Qingli.

The Lu family’s old estate wasn’t far from the company—just a half-hour drive. Xie Jinchuan drove his discreet black Maybach through the gates.

After parking, he went straight inside. A servant greeted him, “Mr. Xie, the young master became so agitated he was sedated and is now tied up in his room!”

The servant led him upstairs to Lu Ziyi’s room. “Mr. Xie, you must talk some sense into him!”

He nodded, indicating he understood, and made his way to Lu Ziyi’s room.

He pushed open the door. The bed was perfectly tidy, not at all like someone was there.

Where had Lu Ziyi gone?

Just as Xie Jinchuan was about to step back into the hallway, a pair of slender arms suddenly wrapped around his waist from behind.

A waft of perfume filled his nostrils. A coquettish voice sounded from behind him.

“Jinchuan, won’t you comfort me?”

A woman’s soft body pressed against his back through her clothes. Instantly, Xie Jinchuan was overwhelmed by a wave of nausea and seething anger.

He tore the woman’s arms away in one swift motion and flung her onto the bed.

The light illuminated her face and her entirely bare body—the woman was unmistakably Shen Jingrong.

“You truly have no shame!”

Rage flared within Xie Jinchuan, burning like wildfire. Especially the scent in the air—it was nothing like their usual incense. This was clearly a lust-inducing drug!

If he couldn’t see through this, he’d be a fool!

This woman wanted to trap him.

She wanted to come between him and Qingli.

She actually dared to pull a stunt like this!

The thought of Qingli witnessing this scene, of her shutting him out again just as he had begun to open his heart, was unbearable.

He absolutely could not allow that to happen.

Shen Jingrong, seeing him frozen in place, thought the drug was taking effect and leapt at him again.

“Come to me, Jinchuan! Qingli can’t compare to me. I can give you the ultimate pleasure!”

Seeing her lunge toward him, his fury finally erupted beyond restraint.

“You’re courting death!”

He seized her throat, his mind fixed on killing her.

Shen Jingrong was lifted off her feet, terror and suffocation twisting her face. She could only emit meaningless, choking gasps, her fair cheeks darkening to a ghastly purple as oxygen failed her.

Suddenly, thunder roared outside. Xie Jinchuan frowned.

“How troublesome.”

This was a warning—a sign against killing a mortal. Annoyed, he flung Shen Jingrong aside. She crashed into the bedside table and fainted.

What a nuisance. If only he were allowed to kill mortals, Shen Jingrong would have died at his hands countless times over for her shamelessness.

No matter how unwilling he was, he had no choice but to let this go for now.

But he had plenty of ways to make her beg for death without release.

Suppressing his fury, Xie Jinchuan stepped out the door.

Lightning flashed again and again, illuminating the world in stark brilliance.

Thunder rolled on, each peal louder than the last, as if determined to split the heavens.

With a cold face, Xie Jinchuan looked up at the sky, his eyes flickering. He had already stopped himself from harming that mortal; he was even outside already. Why was the thunder still raging?

Moreover, this thunder didn’t feel like a warning for him.

Usually, warning thunder would sound a few times, and once he backed off, it would stop.

But this thunder, threatening to shatter the very heavens, was no mere warning—it was as if a supreme deity was descending to face tribulation.

A sense of unease welled up in his heart. Who could it be?

In a haze, Qingli entered a realm of nothingness. As she regained her senses, the scene before her shifted.

On a vast, brutal battlefield, the elegant Immortal Lord cut her down with a single stroke.

Qingli regarded the vision with a complicated expression—this was the scene of her death during the war between gods and demons.

It was her own memory, or perhaps just an illusion.

No matter how many times she saw it, the sight was always just as jarring. After all, who could feel joy watching themselves die?