Evil Spirit - chapter 6

Chapter 6

After being frightened by Duan Qinglian, Li Jiaojiao’s legs had gone completely weak, and she couldn’t even stand.

They lingered until almost dawn before finally returning to the Junwang Mansion.

Li Jiaojiao brought Duan Qinglian with her to climb over the wall into the mansion. Although it felt strange to sneak into her own home like this, there was, after all, a living King of Hell with her.

Li Jiaojiao thought of her father, who usually spoiled the original owner rotten. If he saw Duan Qinglian, he would surely give the order to leave no survivors. But Duan Qinglian was practically a bug-like existence; if it really came to a fight, tomorrow’s headlines in the Capital would surely be the Junwang Mansion Massacre.

But she soon realized her worries were unnecessary. There was hardly anyone left in the Junwang Mansion.

Thinking that she had been missing for nearly a whole day and night, her father must have gone mad with worry and probably called everyone out to look for her.

Still, she felt inexplicably troubled.

Li Jiaojiao rubbed her head and pushed open the door to her own room.

“Woof.”

A crisp dog bark suddenly sounded at her feet.

Looking down, she saw it was the little black Pekingese her father kept, now circling around her feet and sticking out its pink tongue.

Li Jiaojiao bent down to pick it up and tapped its nose. “Were you scared all alone in the mansion?”

Having been left alone in the mansion for a night, the little Pekingese wagged its tail especially happily when it saw its young mistress, licking Li Jiaojiao’s face over and over again.

Laughing, Li Jiaojiao carried the Pekingese into the room and lit the candles.

After setting the Pekingese down, Li Jiaojiao crumbled some pastries from the table and tossed them in front of it. Then she sat down, preparing to leave a letter behind-otherwise the whole Junwang Mansion would be thrown into chaos.

Just as Li Jiaojiao was struggling to control the soft brush tip, the Pekingese let out a miserable yelp, startling Li Jiaojiao and causing her hand to shake, leaving a long black streak across her already messy handwriting.

“Xiao Bai!” Li Jiaojiao put down her brush and called out angrily.

She was immediately met with two strange expressions-one, the terrified face of the Pekingese, and the other, Duan Qinglian’s attractive and innocent-looking face.

The poor Pekingese had been grabbed by Duan Qinglian, its tail curled up, its small black body trembling, clearly in a state of extreme fright.

She hurried over, snatched the Pekingese back, and held it in her arms. “Don’t you dare touch my Xiao Bai. It’s just a dog, doesn’t eat much, and is very well-behaved.”

Duan Qinglian: ?

He was just curious about this wrinkly little black dog-he’d never seen such a uniquely dark canine before.

But Duan Qinglian didn’t bother to explain. He sat to the side, taking out his Sword Line from his sleeve and fiddling with it delicately.

Li Jiaojiao ignored him, hugging the Pekingese and sitting down at the desk with a new sheet of paper.

After writing another messy letter, Li Jiaojiao put it away in a prominent place on the table. As she stood up, she caught a glimpse of Duan Qinglian playing with his Sword Line.

At this moment, the murderous aura from earlier was gone. He sat there quietly, his thin fingers twisting the silver threads, winding them tightly until the tips of his fingers turned white from lack of blood. He looked down, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across his nose, enveloping him in a faint halo.

Li Jiaojiao frowned slightly, recalling from the original book that he seemed to have a penchant for self-harm.

Yet another habit to correct.

She walked over to Duan Qinglian and slapped away the Sword Line he was winding ever tighter. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

Duan Qinglian looked up, and in the soft light, the color slowly returned to his fingertips.

“It hurts.”

He smiled at her, his eyes like a cat’s, making his heart itch.

Li Jiaojiao was at a loss for words, only to see him wrap the Sword Line around another finger, slowly winding it, his beautiful hands turning that familiar shade of pain under his own torment.

If it were anyone else, such fair and slender hands would be cherished. Why did they have to belong to him?

Li Jiaojiao muttered, “Serves you right if it hurts you to death.”

But Duan Qinglian just smiled carelessly. “I can’t die.”

Seeing she couldn’t stop him, Li Jiaojiao walked away.

Duan Qinglian lowered his head and continued to toy with his fingers.

If only he really could die-then it would suit him just fine.

The room returned to silence, the only sound being Li Jiaojiao packing her things. After a while, even that sound faded.

With his head bowed, Duan Qinglian noticed the play of light and shadow on the floor shifting.

He looked up, and suddenly, something cold pressed against his lips and then entered his mouth.

He quickly pulled off the Sword Line wrapped around his fingers, but before he could do anything, the girl’s face appeared before his eyes.

“When I have nothing else to do, I love eating candy the most. If you’re really bored, you can try it.”

As the Sword Line loosened from his fingertips, Duan Qinglian tried licking the round candy in his mouth with the tip of his tongue.
Too sweet.

He frowned slightly.

“Is it good?” The young girl squatted down, resting her chin in her hands, still holding a crimson pouch embroidered with a tiger’s head in gold thread.

Duan Qinglian looked at her, the murderous intent in his eyes slowly fading under the girl’s expectant gaze.

“Very sweet.”

…

As dawn approached, Li Jiaojiao gathered some clothes, found some silver and jewelry, and left with Duan Qinglian.

The Capital was the first city, and there were far more shops opening early for business than in other cities. She easily hired a carriage.

Listening to the sound of the wheels rolling over the ground, Li Jiaojiao, bored, let down the carriage curtain.

Daylight had fully broken, and they had already left the Capital.

This meant her comfortable, carefree life was over. The next task was to follow the plot, in which Duan Qinglian gradually regains his memory through repeated encounters with the female lead, subduing demons and evil spirits together.

Although she didn’t know if this would work for her as the supporting female character, she had no choice but to try.

Tilting her head, she glanced at Duan Qinglian, who was resting with his eyes closed. Her gaze involuntarily followed his snowy white sleeves downward, and she vaguely saw the cold gleam of silver threads beneath his cuff, instantly recalling the scene last night when he used the Sword Line to slice off the flesh of the Living Dead’s arm.

A chill crept up her body.

If she couldn’t help him recover his memory, wouldn’t her fate be worse than that of the Living Dead?

Her eyes traced up his slender figure, and that proud, jade-like face came into view again.

But Duan Qinglian was truly good-looking-his eyes were beautiful, his nose was beautiful, and his lips were soft and red. Kissing him must feel wonderful, right?

“You’re staring at me again.”

Li Jiaojiao’s body jolted.

At that moment, Duan Qinglian had already opened his eyes. In the dim carriage, his light-colored pupils were unexpectedly bright, and his long lashes fluttered.

“Why do you keep looking at me?”

…

Li Jiaojiao fell silent. If she said what she’d just been thinking, she’d probably be killed, right?

“Why aren’t you speaking?”

Duan Qinglian leaned closer, and in an instant, a cool, faintly bloody scent swept into her nose.

Li Jiaojiao looked up. Those soft, red lips were so close-if she just moved a little, she could really kiss him.

Suddenly, Li Jiaojiao’s face burned hot.

“N-nothing!” Li Jiaojiao panicked, pressing her hands against Duan Qinglian’s chest.

His clothes were thin, and at that touch, the cool temperature and firm feel were transmitted clearly to her palm.

A rush of blood surged to her head. Li Jiaojiao hurriedly withdrew her hands, but didn’t know where to put them.

“Really nothing!” She was nearly in tears. She hadn’t done anything, just daydreamed a little.

But Duan Qinglian still looked at her, and those soft, red lips were pure torment in Li Jiaojiao’s eyes.

“Stop looking at me! I’ll tell you!” Li Jiaojiao gave in, lowering her head, sneaking a few glances at Duan Qinglian, then stammered, “Just now, just now I was thinking, about kissing…”

Li Jiaojiao stuttered, unable to get the rest of the sentence out for a long while.

Duan Qinglian, however, seemed extremely patient, his smile gentle, his gaze soft, always watching her.

Li Jiaojiao knew she couldn’t get away without saying it. Even though Duan Qinglian was smiling so gently, the sense of horror and pressure was unbearable.

Gritting her teeth, she said, “Just now I was wondering what it would feel like to kiss you.”

After speaking, Li Jiaojiao shrank her neck and protected herself, but after a moment, she didn’t feel the cold touch of Sword Line around her neck. Only then did she slowly open her eyes.

What she saw was Duan Qinglian’s eyes full of amusement.

His pale fingertips brushed his own red lips, gently stroking them back and forth. He said, “Well, do you want to try?”

???

Was there really such a good thing?

It seemed the road ahead was getting rougher. The carriage bumped along, the curtain occasionally letting in slivers of early sunlight, casting shadows across Duan Qinglian’s brows and eyes.

Golden light fragments seeped into his ethereal pupils, reflecting off his ink-black lashes and brows as if dusted with a thin layer of gold leaf. The upturned corners of his eyes hid in the golden glow, making everything so captivating.

Li Jiaojiao’s heart pounded faster and faster, thumping against her chest. To regain her composure, she bit her lip and pinched her thigh hard.

Finally, she broke free from the temptation of his beauty and regained some clarity.