The Daoist Is a World-Weary Brooder - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Crimson blood overflowed from the sink.
The incandescent light in the room flickered.
The young man who had just taken off his shirt to tend to his shoulder wound paused, turned his head, and stared coldly toward the bathroom with dark pupils.

I had just climbed halfway out of the mirror.

The next moment, a slender yet strong hand abruptly grabbed my wrist, yanked me out of the mirror, and pressed me firmly to the ground.

“This isn’t your home.

Miss Ghost.”

His voice was cool and slightly hoarse.

He expressionlessly watched as my hand climbed up his forearm, my slender nails leaving scratches.

“I know… Daoist…”

“I just… wanted to help you…”

My pale face was flushed, the corners of my eyes glistening with tears, and my slender fingers pried at his hand, pretending to be a pitiable damsel in distress.

In truth, I was no longer human.

Though pinned down, apart from a little difficulty speaking, I felt no discomfort.

“Oh, help with what?”

He looked down at me condescendingly, his gaze roving over my face, not missing any subtle expression.

“You’re injured.”

My black hair spread across the floor, the straps of my red dress half-fallen around my elbows, I looked up at the young man.

His cheeks were flushed, his thin lips pale.

There was a long, deep wound on his shoulder, the thin scab just formed but torn open again by the movement, fresh blood flowing.

“I wanted to help you tend to it…”

I reached out, but his other hand grabbed both my wrists and pinned them above my head the moment my fingertips touched his wound.

“A Seductive Ghost so kind-hearted?”

He asked, seemingly casually.

“Whether Daoist believes it or not, could you let go of me first… I’m uncomfortable… this isn’t very appropriate either…”

My clothes were disheveled, my cheeks faintly flushed.

“I only saw you from a distance downstairs today, clutching your shoulder and looking pale, so I thought you must be injured and came specially to help.”

“Shh, I don’t care about that, Miss Ghost.”

The young man frowned slightly, his slender brows dipping further, matched with a mocking smile at the corner of his lips, giving off a refined scoundrel vibe.

The sky rumbled with muffled thunder, rain poured down. The bathroom was unlit, filled with gloom and dampness.

He bent down and whispered in my ear:

“You are now trespassing.

I have the right to perform a Liberation Ritual on you.”

What he meant by Liberation Ritual was complete spiritual annihilation.

“Daoist-”

I drawled, on the verge of tears:

“I have never killed anyone.”

“I did good deeds in life, and now after death, just because of a momentary kindness, I am to be killed by you without any discrimination?”

His gaze darkened, he sneered, his thin lips parting, but before he could speak, there came a ‘tap-tap’ of knocks on the door.

“Sir, your food delivery!”

A loud male voice sounded at the door.

For some reason, the tightly shut door had a crack, and the young delivery man looked suspiciously into the room, his line of sight coincidentally facing the bathroom doorway.

A ghastly pale lightning split the rain curtain.

Then he saw the young man with his upper body bare to the waist, and me, disheveled, pale-faced, with tears trembling on my long lashes.

“Ah, sorry, sir, carry on.”

He awkwardly placed the food delivery on the floor and turned to leave, but at the stairway corner, he made a phone call, whispering nervously:

“Hello, is this 110?

“There’s someone here attempting to violate a woman’s will and committing a crime. Yes, I witnessed it with my own eyes, at Haitang West Court on Jianhua Avenue…”

Inside the room.

With my excellent hearing, I stopped crying.

The young man’s face remained expressionless.

“Daoist…”

I blinked and asked:

“Can you let go of me now?”

“Did you order this?”

He still maintained his position, only his grip on my wrists tightening slightly.

“No.”

I explained as if clearing myself of suspicion:

“I have no phone, no money.

I don’t eat or drink, so why would I order food delivery?

Could it be that you ordered it?”

He didn’t speak, released me, walked to the door, picked up the food delivery, looked at the address, and frowned.

I was just about to slip away through the mirror.

He glanced over coldly.

“What’s wrong, Daoist?”

With my hand already passing through the mirror, I looked at him with a bit of innocence, not daring to displease this little Daoist.

I couldn’t leave through the mirror, so I headed for the front door.

The moment I stepped over the threshold, he grabbed me by the back of the neck and said indifferently:

“Stay and explain to the police.”

“Ah?”

I was a bit confused.

He raised his eyes to look into the distance.

I followed his gaze.

At the corner, a glimpse of goose-yellow clothing caught my eye.

“What a kind delivery man.”

I remarked.

The young man released me, set the food delivery on the floor, and returned to the sofa to continue treating his wound.

I squatted down.

Lightning flashed across the gloomy sky, illuminating the rain-splattered food delivery. The address label read: [Yunxia Garden, Building 6, Apt 404.]

And this building was Building 8.