The winter night in the Imperial City was as thick as ink, unable to dissolve.
Qin Wenrou tossed and turned, unable to sleep soundly.
The carefully designed cri scene from the day was unexpectedly and easily unraveled by the ugly woman and her lackeys.
She couldn’t understand how the ugly woman ended up buying Qin Xin’s rosewood bed?
That’s sothing she had always wanted but could never get!
The more unattainable, the more she desired it.
She ticulously recalled the entire process, certain that this ti the plan was truly ticulous and foolproof, if only the ugly woman hadn’t suddenly produced that contract...
Thus, the crux of the matter was Qin Xin’s doing; even after death, she managed to dig such a big pit before she died.
"To sell such an expensive bed to an outsider instead of leaving it for your sister, Qin Xin, you are truly heartless and shaless. What campus belle, what goddess, those who voted must have been blind. What’s so interesting about a ghastly-looking dead face, only fit to marry a crippled short-lived vixen—"
Qin Wenrou gritted her teeth, unable to suppress the curses from escaping her lips.
In the pitch-black night, there were no outsiders in the Qin Family, so she didn’t have to maintain her lady-like deanor in front of Lan Yingjun, pretending to be delicate.
She vented her discontent freely.
However.
Just as she finished cursing "only fit to marry a crippled short-lived vixen," the room’s temperature suddenly dropped by more than ten degrees!
"Who, are you calling, a vixen?"
A cold and sharp voice resonated in her ears, word by word!
Qin Wenrou was so frightened that with a "thump—" she sat up from the mattress.
Was it a nightmare?
Otherwise, how could she hear the voice of that dead woman, Qin Xin?
She panted heavily, scanning the room nervously.
Yet, the room was extrely quiet, apart from her own "huff" "huff" breathing sounds, there was no other noise.
She licked her lips, thinking to herself, indeed, thinking too much before sleep easily leads to nightmares, forget it, let’s not think any more. Even though this ti failed, she still held a handle on that ugly woman, she could still...
Just as she was comforting herself, suddenly, "creak—!" A strange noise made her heart leap again, beating so fast it almost jumped out of her throat.
"Who...?!"
Her voice trembled, her whole body shivering uncontrollably.
The window, at so point, had been blown open a crack, allowing cold wind to sweep in, making the whole room feel eerily cold and desolate, like the underworld.
"You don’t know who I am? Trying to covet my rosewood bed today, and just now calling a vixen, have you so quickly forgotten who I am?"
The ruthless voice floated in with the cold wind.
Qin Wenrou’s hair stood on end!
Her eyes almost bulged out of their sockets, staring intently at the eerie window, unable to speak properly: "You... you..."
Could it be Qin Xin’s vengeful spirit, coming to claim her life?
No, no, no, there’s no such thing as ghosts, and Qin Xin’s body is beyond recognition, it’s impossible... absolutely impossible...
However, the next second, the words "impossible" were swallowed back down her throat.
Only to see the window completely blown open by the cold wind, amidst a patch of white mist, a white figure floated into the bedroom!
Feet not touching the ground, floating directly to the head of Qin Wenrou’s bed!
White mist=yin energy!
White clothes==burial clothes!
Feet three inches off the ground==floating!
Qin Wenrou’s eyes bulged out and couldn’t go back!
She couldn’t even let out the scream stuck in her throat—she felt a powerful force gripping her throat, unable to make a sound.
Yet, the white figure strolled leisurely to her face: "Tell , who helped you set up the Ice Lake trap?"
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