Chapter 46 Do Not Use Force!

"Like you, he disappeared and still hasn't been found." Bai Chuan replied, the stench in the air here making him somewhat uncomfortable. "Let's talk somewhere else."

But just as the three of them returned to the entrance of Peng Village, they discovered traces of someone nearby.

At that moment, Jiang Zhen'er, dressed in a black Gothic evening gown, was standing barefoot on a thick branch of the giant yellowhorn tree, her feet swinging carelessly. With a smile on her face, she gazed intently at the three of them.

"Who are you?" Bai Chuan narrowed his eyes.

Hu Xiong's expression hardened as soon as he saw her, his voice sinking, "This is the evil spirit we've been tracking."

Jiang Zhen'er beamed at them, then leapt down from the branch, hands clasped behind her back, tilting her head as she looked at the three from a distance. Her eyes brimmed with murderous intent.

"Enough."

From behind the yellowhorn tree, Li Minghao slowly emerged, his face wan and weary. "Old Bai, Old Hu, this has nothing to do with you. Go back. I'll handle it."

"You'll handle it?" Hu Xiong's heart dropped. There was something off about Li Minghao's state—could he have fallen under this evil being's spell?

Li Minghao turned and glanced at the two names carved into the yellowhorn tree: Peng Qingshan and Jiang Zhen'er.

With time, the carvings had grown blurred.

Along with those names, Li Minghao's memories drifted back to more than fifty years ago.

It was a bright, sunlit afternoon.

Peng Qingshan had grown up in Peng Village, but when he was thirteen, a woman named Jiang arrived with her daughter, seeking refuge with relatives.

Peng Qingshan first met Jiang Zhen'er here.

He was climbing the yellowhorn tree with friends from the village when he saw Jiang Zhen'er enter the village with her mother.

Curious, Jiang Zhen'er looked back at Peng Qingshan.

There was no clichéd love at first sight. In fact, as an outsider, Jiang Zhen'er was coldly received by Peng Qingshan and the other village children when she first arrived.

All the boys preferred climbing trees, catching fish, or hunting with their fathers. No one wanted to play with the unfamiliar girl who had just moved in.

Though their relatives were willing to take in Jiang Zhen'er and her mother, they still complained about having two burdens who couldn't do farm work and only consumed food.

Even though her mother swept, cooked, and toiled in the fields, nothing improved.

Even when her mother finally collapsed from exhaustion.

She remembered, after her mother died in bed, the relatives’ faces showed relief, as if a weight had been lifted.

Jiang Zhen'er knew her relatives disliked her. She was too young to work the fields, her school fees were costly, and all her future expenses would fall on them.

She could only work hard at chores, sweeping and cooking as soon as she returned from school, and eating as little as possible at mealtimes.

As she grew, her clothes became too small, but her relatives never considered buying her anything new.

Once, she saw Peng Qingshan about to throw away some old clothes.

She stepped forward and took Peng Qingshan's old clothes—he caught her in the act.

By then, she had been in Peng Village for two years and was fourteen. This was the first time they spoke.

She vaguely remembered Peng Qingshan's first words: "I have some more clothes at home I don't need. If you like, I can bring them for you."

Everyone in Peng Village knew Jiang Zhener's story—her father died early, her mother was gone. Peng Qingshan, of course, knew as well.

Perhaps out of pity, Peng Qingshan would often bring her old clothes or leftover buns.

Watching Jiang Zhen'er brighten as she took the worn clothes, or wolf down the leftover buns and food, Peng Qingshan felt a surge of compassion for her. "Slow down. If that's not enough, I'll bring you more tomorrow."

"It's enough, it's enough."

"Let's meet here again tomorrow. There will be chicken drumsticks at my house."

Their meeting place was always beneath the yellowhorn tree.

Often, they would chat under the moonlight, talking about many things.

Jiang Zhen'er often said that although her relatives were harsh, she understood every household here was struggling, lacking food and clothes. That her relatives could support her and send her to school was already a blessing. When she grew up and got into university, she would change her fate.

Peng Qingshan dreamed of enlisting in the military, serving the Federation.

As the two grew up, innocent affection gradually blossomed.

Other than her parents, Jiang Zhen'er had never met anyone who treated her so well. She cherished every moment with Peng Qingshan.

The village knew of their relationship but did not interfere—Peng Qingshan's family was among the best off in Peng Village.

Her relatives, of course, hoped to marry Jiang Zhen'er off as soon as possible.

Eventually, the Alliance called for recruits. Peng Qingshan signed up and was quickly accepted.

Before he left—

Peng Qingshan took a small knife and carved their names into the yellowhorn tree.

"When I finish my service and save enough money, I'll come back and marry you."

"Mm!"

Jiang Zhen'er trusted Peng Qingshan. She waited, and waited.

A year passed. Then another.

But then, terrible news came from the front. The Vermilion Bird Federation had clashed with the Lamella Empire, and in the fighting, Peng Qingshan was killed.

Once more, Jiang Zhen'er was alone.

She refused to accept it. She ran to the yellowhorn tree, gazing at Peng Qingshan's name. "You will come back. You have to come back."

Everyone saw her as a curse, the one who brought death to her parents, and now to Peng Qingshan.

Peng Piyi, whose wife had died long ago, was over sixty and had saved up a good sum, but because of his age, couldn't find a wife. Seeing Jiang Zhen'er grow into a graceful young woman, he became tempted.

He proposed to her relatives.

A mere five hundred Lang coins.

Her relatives, unwilling to support Jiang Zhen'er any longer, agreed despite her desperate protests.

It was a grand wedding in Peng Village, with banquets that lasted for days. No one expected that at the wedding ceremony, Jiang Zhen'er would suddenly pull out a pair of scissors she had hidden for a long time and stab Peng Piyi to death.

By village custom, a murderer must pay with their life. Jiang Zhen'er was tied up to be buried with Peng Piyi.

Unwillingness, rage, resentment—and her unwavering belief that Peng Qingshan would return.

She was buried in endless darkness, tormented by the stench of the rotting corpse beside her, struggling endlessly to open the coffin but failing each time.

...

Li Minghao did not know if he was truly the reincarnation of Peng Qingshan, but Jiang Zhen'er was certain.

Bai Chuan drew a short sword and slowly stepped forward. Li Minghao's expression changed; he stepped in front of Jiang Zhen'er and said, "Don't!"

Li Minghao couldn't explain his own actions—perhaps, it was nothing more than pity for Jiang Zhen'er?