Chapter 28: Volume 1, Chapter 28: How to Win Over the Proud Ghost King? (9)

Volume 1_Chapter 28: How to Win Over the Proud Ghost King? (9)

After that sentence fell, Jiang Zhi still thought she had misheard, and asked 777: 'How much is his Favorability?'

777: 'The villain Zhan Wu Jin's Favorability is 13.'

It's perilous, not even reaching 20.

Therefore, Zhan Wu Jin's feeling toward her was merely a bodily desire, as if treating her as a plaything.

With such a heaven-defying face, saying such words to her, Jiang Zhi could barely hold herself back.

The persona is still maintained.

Jiang Zhi's face was full of shock; a chill shot from the soles of her feet up to her skull, and through the dim light she could faintly see the man's footsteps as he approached.

"No!!"

The rejection and fear on her face were quite clear, her eyes filled with resistance toward him.

Zhan Wu Jin's face sank terrifyingly, his dark pupils welling up with a chilling aura that made one's heart tremble.

Obviously he hadn't expected the girl to despise him so much, a fragile human——

How dare she!!

Zhan Wu Jin ignored her resistance, scooped her up in a horizontal hold, his form flickered in place, and he suddenly vanished.

When Jiang Zhi came to, she found herself already pressed beneath the man, her surroundings changed—it was her own home.

Zhan Wu Jin pressed his fingertip against her soft, delicate lips without a hint of tenderness, his pupils slightly tightened as he leaned in to kiss her, but his gaze met the girl's reddened eyes; crystal tears slid down her cheeks, seeping into the pillow and leaving a water stain.

In his arms, the girl's pretty face was deathly pale, her lips bearing a crimson mark from his kneading; she cried silently, frightened to no small degree.

Zhan Wu Jin's fingertip touched the tear at the corner of her eye, a warmth seeming to seep through his fingertip into her flesh.

Unlike his icy body, the girl in his arms was warm everywhere, even her tears carried warmth.

Zhan Wu Jin suppressed the turmoil in his heart, withdrew his finger, and concealed the greed and desire in his eyes.

He rose from her body, his gaze flickering over her face without a trace, his tone icy: 'You don't know what's good for you.'

How many people wish to climb onto his Dragon Bed, yet the fate of those women is only one—death.

But the girl resisted in this way.

Zhan Wu Jin's chest was filled with anger and irritation.

Jiang Zhi curled up on the bed like a puppet, tears spilling uncontrollably, her whole body trembling.

Zhan Wu Jin's brows and eyes darkened like a storm before it breaks, and he said coldly: 'If you keep crying, I will kill you right now!'

Jiang Zhi also had a temper; she had almost been forced into silence, not even allowed to cry, and suddenly jumped off the bed, strode to the man, pointed at him and shouted loudly: 'Kill! Come kill me! All night long I have to help you find ghosts and cut my palm, do you think I'm your slave, your servant?! Do you think you're still the emperor?! Does everyone have to rely on you? This is the twenty-first century, not the dynasty you lived in ten thousand years ago!'

After spilling out that long speech, Jiang Zhi felt relieved.

She had thought the man would kill her, but he merely gave her a cold glance and asked nonchalantly: 'Done scolding?'

Jiang Zhi mustered the last of her courage and forced out an 'uh'.

Zhan Wu Jin stepped forward toward her, but she kept retreating until she was backed into a corner.

Feeling the girl's slender body tremble, Zhan Wu Jin murmured: 'I remember what you said.'

Having spoken, he vanished from before her eyes.

The room's icy temperature gradually warmed, signaling that the man had truly left.

Jiang Zhi's body went limp and she collapsed to the floor, exhausted and sleepy.

'What is the villain's Favorability now?' she asked.

777: '43.' It strongly suspected that this villain had become a masochist—obviously angry enough that his self-reference changed from 'We' to 'I', yet he didn't expect his Favorability could still increase.

But what 777 doesn't understand is that, in the villain Zhan Wu Jin's memory, everyone lives wearing a mask, even himself; in that perilous, dark environment, greed for life and fear of death is everyone's nature.

And someone like Jiang Zhi, who, although afraid, still speaks her mind, he had never seen before.

Jiang Zhi let out an 'oh', sat on the ground for a moment, then got up to go to the bathroom to wash up, changed into pajamas, and lay down on the comfortable bed.

Just as before, as soon as Jiang Zhi closed her eyes she lost consciousness.

"Monster! You are a monster, understand?"

"Why didn't you die earlier? Living in this world, you will only suffer the scorn of ten thousand people."

"You are nothing but a monster born of a lowly slave, yet you think you are the sixteenth prince? Your Majesty wishes you would die sooner, lest you tarnish the royal lineage!"

One venomous curse after another reached Jiang Zhi's ears outside the palace hall; she opened her eyes to see familiar surroundings, only the palace gate had been slightly repaired, making it look less dilapidated.

This time, with this body's memories, she was not a palace maid but an unfavored princess sent by a vassal state; upon entering the palace she never even saw the emperor's face, spending all her days in a place like the Cold Palace, wasting her years.

"This time is not bad either; she's still a consort."

Jiang Zhi lowered her gaze to look at the old-style gauze dress she wore, recalling the plot she had seen before.

Zhan Wu Jin's mother was a dance slave from the Western Regions, of low status; when the emperor once went on an incognito patrol, he happened to rescue the dance slave.

The dance slave's beauty was capable of overturning the city; none of the palace's consorts could match her, with a pair of exotic, unique deep-blue eyes, like a bewitching demon.

Thus she was lavished with favor.

The Empress and the other consorts were jealous and unwilling to accept that a lowly dance slave could enjoy such immense favor.

Even the officials before the court had complaints; disaster struck from a single prophecy by the Imperial Preceptor.

The son born of the dance slave is 'Extremely Evil'.

If they waited for his birth, he would likely endanger the state.

The emperor cast the dance slave into the Cold Palace; at that moment Zhan Wu Jin was just born, and the dance slave saw the emperor for the last time,

pleading for him to spare the child.

Afterward, the dance slave exchanged her life for his, dying in the Cold Palace.

From the moment Zhan Wu Jin was born, he suffered endless abuse and torment.

Everyone called him a monster, wishing he would die quickly.

Living is worse than a dog.

He exerted all his effort, striving to survive in this man-eating palace, enduring in silence. At only thirteen, he was sent to the frontier to fight, climbing up step by step from piles of corpses.

Until the year he turned twenty, he raised troops in rebellion, slaughtered the palace in blood, and with a single stroke severed the emperor's head, hanging it above the court.

At this time, Zhan Wu Jin, just over ten years old, sat on the steps inside the courtyard; beside him lay a broken bowl dropped by a eunuch, with coarse grain and pig's swill scattered all over the ground.

The eunuch standing beside him, tired of cursing, spat and left in disgust.

Ten-year-old Zhan Wu Jin had grown a bit taller; compared to the last time seen, he was increasingly frail, his black hair loosely tied back, his pallid face slightly raised, his eyes covered with a black cloth that hid his striking smoky-blue irises.

Jiang Zhi stood outside the Palace Gate, froze for a moment, and furrowed his brow.

His eyes had been injured by a prince's sword; no one treated him, and he healed them himself slowly by seeking herbs.