No wonder this house, despite its age, exuded a unique grandeur; it turned out to be the private villa of a Famous Courtesan.
Luo Yuni.
This woman was Luo Yuni, the very sa Famous Courtesan ntioned in the newspapers as having died tragically in her private villa.
Was she the old lady’s House Spirit?
Where did these newspapers co from?
What was Luo Yuni’s connection to the old lady?
Luo Yuni seed to understand Li Banfeng’s hesitation to speak her na.
"Do you want to know what happened next?"
DONG! DONG! DONG! The grandfather clock struck eleven tis. As its pendulum swayed, the scene shifted, and Luo Yuni continued her story.
Her murderer lay dead on the ground.
Luo Yuni sat beside the corpse, ticulously grooming herself.
The man’s body was taken away. But before long, he returned. He stood beside Luo Yuni, eyebrow pencil in hand, wanting to draw her eyebrows.
This clearly wasn’t a living man; it had to be his ghost.
Luo Yuni didn’t spare him a glance. With a casual wave of her hand, she sent him flying out the window.
Outside the window stood a willow tree, and the man found himself hanging from its branches.
Luo Yuni continued her grooming, her smile remaining captivating as ti passed.
Day after day, the man hanging from the tree gazed obsessively at Luo Yuni inside the house.
After so ti, a young couple moved into the house.
The husband, dressed in a white shirt and black suspenders, left early and returned late, apparently holding a respectable job.
The wife busied herself with chores, seemingly never noticing the other woman in the house—the one always ticulously grooming herself before the old grandfather clock.
She couldn’t see her.
If Luo Yuni hadn’t revealed herself, Li Banfeng wouldn’t have seen her either.
Their days were peaceful, even sweet, until the husband saw Luo Yuni grooming herself. Suddenly, life didn’t feel so sweet anymore.
He felt his wife wasn’t that beautiful. Compared to a true beauty, perhaps his wife had never been beautiful at all.
Luo Yuni looked at the man with pity, gently extending her arm to offer him the comb.
The man was overjoyed. He carefully took the comb from Luo Yuni, feeling that combing her hair, even just once, would be the most cherished achievent of his life.
Li Banfeng couldn’t comprehend his thoughts, nor the obsession and rapture on the man’s face.
The man combed Luo Yuni’s hair repeatedly, as if unwilling to miss a single strand.
Only when Luo Yuni grew weary and glanced at him did he reluctantly put the comb down.
Putting down the comb, the man picked up an eyebrow pencil, wanting to draw Luo Yuni’s eyebrows.
Luo Yuni shook her head, her figure gradually fading.
She vanished, leaving the man standing there with the eyebrow pencil, bewildered and lost.
He stared blankly at the grandfather clock all day, indifferent to his wife’s complaints and tears.
One day, he repeatedly stabbed himself in the temple with the eyebrow pencil, his face a twisted mask of agony and a smile.
He saw Luo Yuni again. He knew that as long as he kept stabbing his temple with the eyebrow pencil, he could be with her.
Holding the bloodied eyebrow pencil, he wanted to draw Luo Yuni’s eyebrows.
His wife witnessed this horrific scene and fled the house in terror, but she couldn’t escape the courtyard.
The Lost Soul hanging from the tree brandished willow branches, ensnaring her and dragging her back into the house.
No wonder these willow trees prevented anyone from leaving the estate; many Lost Souls hung from them, all enslaved to Luo Yuni.
Her husband had stabbed himself to death with the eyebrow pencil.
She remained bound by the willow branches until late at night, when Luo Yuni slit her throat with a Short Knife.
The wife died. The blade, sared with fresh blood, was clean again in an instant as the blood vanished.
The scene froze. Luo Yuni said softly to Li Banfeng, "This Short Knife enjoys drinking blood at midnight. The more blood it drinks, the sharper it becos.
"It took three years to understand this Short Knife’s secret, while that old woman spent thirty years and learned nothing.
"We’ve only just t, and I’ve already told you its secret. Isn’t that sincere enough?"
Luo Yuni’s smile grew even more captivating, but Li Banfeng wasn’t focused on it.
"You’re lying," Li Banfeng said, shaking his head. "The old lady knew this Short Knife’s secret. She didn’t kill imdiately but deliberately kept until midnight so the Short Knife could drink my blood."
Luo Yuni laughed. "That’s because I told her the secret last night. Didn’t you notice? Her two sons also didn’t understand why you were kept until midnight. That was because the old lady hadn’t had ti to tell them.
"That old woman is just that foolish. If I hadn’t told her, she likely would have never figured it out. Practicing Ho Cultivation with her was an insult and a tornt to ."
Li Banfeng asked, "Then why did you choose her?"
Luo Yuni shook her head. "It wasn’t I who chose her; she chose . She was the only Ho Cultivator I’d encountered, and she called out my na.
"Before eting her, I was rely a Resentful Spirit. It was her summons that turned into a House Spirit."
Li Banfeng’s eyes lit up. "How does one summon a House Spirit?"
Luo Yuni raised an eyebrow. "You don’t know? Aren’t you also a Ho Cultivator?"
Li Banfeng raised his eyebrows too. "You could tell?"
Luo Yuni laughed heartily. "How could I not? Your every move in this house is clear to .
"You possess a special residence, one invisible to ordinary people, even to ordinary House Spirits.
"But I am not ordinary. I can see it. I know you have a key to open this residence. It’s precisely because you returned to your residence that you were able to quickly neutralize the poison Decai gave you."
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