Chapter 34: Volume 1, Chapter 34: How to Capture the Proud Ghost King? (15)

"You are newcomers, first time serving in the imperial presence; don't say we didn't warn you— in this palace, what you can and cannot see, keep your wits about you."

The head eunuch, an old palace servant, holds the post of Supervisor of the Directorate of Rites, the highest position in the bureau; yet the old eunuch trembles with fear, his eyes betraying his dread.

Not only him; the eunuchs standing side by side have ashen faces, a few timid ones trembling uncontrollably, as if they might piss themselves any moment.

The atmosphere congealed into ice, permeated with a fear that seeps into the marrow.

Jiang Zhi, standing at the rear, hid her palm-sized face beneath the brim of her hat, eyes downcast.

As more officials filled the banquet, pleasant, lingering music played, yet no one wore a smile; they were tense, fear hidden in their hearts.

Jiang Zhi stood with a few eunuchs behind the main seat, guarding, and could faintly hear the officials below whispering.

Most were talking about the heinous, crazy things Zhan Wu Jin had done lately.

Soon they fell silent; not far away, a figure approached at a steady pace— wearing a black dragon robe much as it had been ten thousand years ago, embroidered with gold-thread dragon patterns that accentuated his slender frame, his dark hair casually tied back, his features deep and handsome, his brow ridge cold and restrained, his thin lips sharp, his whole body emanating a savage aura that made one dare not meet his gaze.

When he appeared, everyone bowed their heads and knelt.

Unlike his youthful appearance then, Zhan Wu Jin was now a fully grown man, his features fully developed, the last traces of youth gone.

Jiang Zhi was pulled to kneel by a nearby eunuch; hearing the footsteps draw nearer, she blinked, and a dark robe fell before her.

The handsome youth took his seat on the throne, half-lifting his heavy eyelids; his smoky-blue eyes deep as an abyss swept over the crowd below, his thin lips parting: "Rise."

Though under twenty, he had fought on the battlefield for years; his bewitching, striking visage left none daring to comment, and he had even earned the epithet "cold-blooded Yama".

The banquet began.

The ink‑black night sky arched a swath of white; the full moon hung, its pale light spreading across the entire palace.

Jiang Zhi looked at the unfamiliar youth before her— nothing like the black‑clad boy she had last seen when she left.

Full of malice.

As if he might go mad at any moment.

As she had expected, halfway through the banquet, a court official spoke up without fear of death.

"The state cannot go a day without an heir! Your Majesty!"

Since Zhan Wu Jin ascended the throne, not only are there no consorts in the harem, even the maids who warm his bed are gone.

Except for warfare, which piques this emperor's interest a little, everything else is a landmine for him.

This second‑rank official, a loyal servant of two generations, his hair white at the temples, nearing retirement age, yet for the new emperor to establish an empress he fears not death, and his companions are likewise half‑buried in the earth.

Zhan Wu Jin's brows and eyes were grim and fierce, his aura sharp and shocking.

Those around him dared not even breathe.

"No, empress?!" he drawled lazily, each word spaced, and his wine cup clanged to the floor.

The atmosphere suddenly filled with chill and danger.

The elder official endured his fear, kneeling upright in the center.

Everyone broke into a sweat for him.

The palace attendant pouring wine nearby lost balance, swayed, and spilled the liquid onto Zhan Wu Jin's black robe that hung to the ground.

Seeing this, the attendant didn't faint from fright but hurriedly knelt.

Zhan Wu Jin's jaw tightened grimly; his gaze slowly swept over the kneeling attendant, he closed his eyes for a moment, then curled his lips in a half‑smile: "Go, kill that old thing, and I'll spare you."

These words fell upon the kneeling attendant's ears like a demon's whisper— perilous and icy.

The attendant shivered uncontrollably, begging for mercy.

The dark‑haired youth rose from the dragon throne; his black robe billowed in the cool breeze, and the silvery light catching the embroidery scattered gold halos.

Jiang Zhi, watching this scene beneath her hat brim, furrowed her brows, feeling deeply uneasy.

As the youth drew the long sword from the guard at his waist to slay the attendant, Jiang Zhi strode forward and gripped his wrist tightly.

"Little brat!"

The landing sound was calm, yet laced with anger.

Everyone turned to the person who had intervened— a young eunuch wearing an ordinary, unremarkable dark‑blue collared robe.

Yet their tyrannical emperor, upon meeting the young eunuch's gaze, actually stepped back first.

"Is it… you?" Zhan Wu Jin hastily lowered his eyes, withdrawing the ferocity and madness within, his face instantly turning ashen.

Jiang Zhi wrested the sword from his clenched hand, stood before him, her gaze fixed on his face, shaking with disappointment: "You— why have you become like this?"

She had accompanied him for several months.

She taught him cultivation and tended to his body.

Yet he still became a cruel, heartless emperor.

Seeing him remain silent, Jiang Zhi relaxed her fingers; her pale face lowered slightly, her curled lashes casting a faint shadow on her eyelids.

"No, I shouldn't have called you that— you are now emperor. So, are you going to kill me too?"

Zhan Wu Jin froze, staring blankly at her retracted pale fingers; for the first time he was at a loss, stepping forward to approach her, stammering, "No, no, it's not— I, I— how could I— " kill you.

The youth's voice grew hoarse, betraying a barely perceptible tremor.

Jiang Zhi, however, would not glance at him again, turning and disappearing from everyone's sight.

Zhan Wu Jin hurriedly followed after her, leaving a crowd of shocked officials and palace attendants.

She removed her hat, her dark hair falling to her waist, and Jiang Zhi walked forward step by step, ignoring the youth trailing behind her.

She walked until she reached the place where they had once dwelt in ruin— no, the palace before her had been renovated, renewed, more splendid than any other palace.

Zhan Wu Jin stood like a child who had done wrong, a few meters away, his eyes fixed on the person standing before the palace gate.

This time the fairy sister's appearance had changed again, seeming to become a eunuch, but that didn't matter; the important thing was that she had returned.

Jiang Zhi turned back, slightly furrowed her brows, and said, "Perhaps I shouldn't have come to see you; you don't need me to do anything for you anymore."

The boy who once stood beneath the tree shade wrapped in black cloth had a gentle, sincere smile.

But now, those eyes held only slaughter.

Zhan Wu Jin halted his steps, his pupils sinking several degrees; he shook his head, wanting to explain, but she had seen everything.

"Fairy... fairy older sister."

Jiang Zhi remained silent, she lifted her head to gaze at the water-like river of stars stretching across the sky; after a moment, she whispered, "I'm leaving, Zhan Wu Jin."

Just as her words fell, a pain struck the back of her neck, her vision blacked out and she fell.

Zhan Wu Jin, who had appeared behind her at some point, pulled her into his arms; his smoky-blue eyes were thick with an almost pathological possessiveness.

"Sorry."

"I won't let you go again."

【Villain Zhan Wu Jin Hatred Value 20】

Jiang Zhi woke up and heard these words; unlike the emotional voice of 777, it was a mechanical voice.