After the ghost-hunting master descended the mountain, his fame spread throughout the capital.

"Chen Youcai, come out and face your death!"

A sharp whistle and a chilling wind, sounding like weeping, suddenly crashed into the tightly closed doors and windows of the Chen residence.

Inside the room, Chen Youcai, who was fast asleep, was awakened by the sudden chill and shriek. He sat up abruptly, his undergarments instantly soaked with cold sweat.

"Madam! Madam!" He instinctively nudged his sleeping wife beside him, his voice trembling with fear. "Did you hear...did you hear anything?! Is there a thief? Or..."

However, his wife seemed to have fainted, and no matter how he shook and pushed her, she did not respond at all, and her breathing was strangely steady.

Moreover, at this moment, the entire Chen family seemed to have fallen into a deep sleep.

Chen Youcai was so frightened that his teeth chattered. He hurriedly tried to grab the talisman he had obtained from his pillow, only to find that the talisman had turned to ashes at some point.

Just then, the tightly closed door suddenly opened, and a biting gust of cold wind rushed in.

Jiang Shuangjiang hovered at the doorway, her eyes fixed on Chen Youcai, who was trembling like a leaf on the bed.

Chen Youcai was terrified. He scrambled to the corner of the bed, stammering, "Ghost...ghost! Spare me!"

"I...I have no grudge against you...You've got the wrong person! I'll burn paper money for you, I...I'll build a temple for you! Please forgive me!"

"No enmity whatsoever?!"

Jiang Shuangjiang's voice was sharp. She slowly drifted closer, and wherever she passed, a thin layer of white frost condensed on the ground, and the temperature inside the room plummeted, turning breath into ice.

"Chen Youcai, take a good look at who I am!!"

Upon hearing this, Chen Youcai raised his head and, using the dim light outside, managed to make out the face that was so close to him.

Although the face was so pale it seemed unrecognizable, the familiar features, the once clear eyes now only filled with boundless darkness…

"It's...it's you?! Jiang...Jiang family?!" Chen Youcai's face turned ashen, as if he had witnessed the most terrifying sight in the world.

He finally remembered the woman whose beauty he coveted, whom he plotted against, and who ultimately drove him to hang himself.

"It's me!" Jiang Shuangjiang shouted sharply, her resentment turning into black mist that churned and rose, making her look like a demon crawling out of a pool of blood from hell.

"My life! My innocence! Everything I have! All ruined by you, you beast, because of that one filthy and despicable thought of yours!"

She stretched out her finger, her nails suddenly turning jet black and long, pointing directly at Chen Youcai's nose:

"Chen Youcai! Just because I was born with a handsome appearance, does that give you beasts in human skin the right to covet and trample on me at will?!"

"A woman's life, a woman's chastity, are you to regard them as worthless as weeds, to be arbitrarily insulted, bought and sold, or even destroyed?!"

With each question she asked, the wind grew stronger, the furniture in the room creaked, and the porcelain shattered.

Chen Youcai was terrified and had lost all trace of his usual arrogance.

Tears streamed down his face, the foul-smelling liquid uncontrollably soaking his lower garment. He could only kowtow desperately, the sound of his head hitting the bed echoing loudly.

"I was wrong! I was so wrong! I was blinded by greed! I was worse than an animal!"

He wailed, his voice broken and shattered, "Miss Jiang! Spare me! I... I'll give away all my wealth to build a shrine and temple for you!"

"I have begged the most virtuous and respected monk in Changling City to chant sutras for you day and night! I beg you... I beg you to spare my worthless life!"

"A ritual for the deceased?"

Jiang Shuangjiang seemed to have heard the most ridiculous joke in the world, and a series of shrill laughs came from her throat. There was no joy in those laughs, only endless mockery.

"My life! The humiliation I've suffered! My innocence and hope, crushed by your combined efforts!" She spoke each word slowly and deliberately, each syllable like a poisoned icicle, "Can a few empty scriptures or a few cold, lifeless clay sculptures erase all that?!"

"What I want is never incense offerings! What I want is for you to pay for your blood debts!"

As soon as she finished speaking, she suddenly grabbed at the air.

"Uh! Hehe!"

Chen Youcai's wailing stopped abruptly.

He lifted his feet off the bed and frantically scratched his neck with both hands, only to touch a cold, bone-chilling void.

Jiang Shuangjiang no longer wanted to watch his pathetic, dying struggle, nor did she care to listen to any more pleas for mercy.

Her resentment reached its peak, and the flames of revenge consumed her last shred of reason.

Jiang Shuangjiang grabbed Chen Youcai, who was kicking futilely in mid-air, and transformed into a gust of cold wind, heading straight for Wang Laizi's mansion.

Although it was late at night, one courtyard in Wang Laizi's mansion was still brightly lit, with the sounds of men and women flirting and laughing.

Inside, the red curtains were warm, and a nauseating atmosphere of desire permeated the room.

Wang Laizi was on top of a young concubine, panting heavily.

The concubine's makeup was exquisite and alluring, her clothes half-undone, but her eyes were empty and numb, like a soulless doll, only responding to her long-trained instincts by emitting some coquettish and affected moans.

Just as Wang Laizi was getting into the swing of things, he suddenly stopped and paused.

He seemed to remember something, let out a soft scoff, a nauseating snort, and patted the powdered cheek of the woman beneath him, his tone flippant:

"What a pity, no matter how much you try, you can't recapture that energy you had with the Jiang family back then... That was real excitement! Tsk, is it really true that old saying, 'A wife is not as good as a concubine, a concubine is not as good as a stolen affair, and a stolen affair is not as exciting as... forcing someone?' Haha!"

He actually treated the atrocities he committed against Jiang Shuangjiang as a romantic affair that he could boast about, casually mentioning it during their intimate moments without the slightest remorse or shame.

On the rooftop, Jiang Dusheng, who had concealed his presence with magic in the shadows, heard these filthy words clearly.

Her brows furrowed suddenly, a cold glint flashed in her eyes, and with a slight movement of her fingertips, a wisp of spiritual energy condensed at her fingertips, seemingly ready to be flicked out at any moment to shut up this foul-mouthed beast on the spot.

Wang Dazhuang, who was standing next to her, was furious.

Although he was a ghost, he had lived in the streets and witnessed many filthy things in his previous life, but such a scoundrel who blatantly used evil as a topic of conversation and showed no remorse still enraged him.

"Pah! You filthy bastard!" Wang Dazhuang cursed, and in his anger, he forgot to control himself and suddenly exhaled a thick cloud of yin energy towards the lit roof.

This yin energy has limited effect on the living, but it has a significant impact on physical objects.

Suddenly, a loud crash was heard, and several roof tiles were blown off the house. Broken tiles fell down with a clatter, some of them hitting the stone slabs in the courtyard with a piercing cracking sound.

Jiang Dusheng: "..."

She reacted extremely quickly; the instant the tile flew up, she grabbed Xie Jinchen's arm beside her and dodged to the side, avoiding the flying shards of tile.

At the same time, she lowered her voice and scolded, "Wang Dazhuang! Couldn't you have given me a heads-up before you made a move?!"

Wang Dazhuang's face showed a guilty and indignant expression as he lowered his voice to defend himself:

"Master, I can't control myself! Although I, Dazhuang, wasn't a great philanthropist in my lifetime, the thought of such a despicable and vile beast who harms people and yet is so smug is disgusting!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a gust of cold wind swept through the entire courtyard without warning.

The wind carried the agonizing screams of another man, like a pig being slaughtered.

Jiang Shuangjiang's wedding dress was as red as blood, and her whole body was filled with resentment.

She casually tossed Chen Youcai to the ground like a broken sack.

Chen Youcai was dazed and confused, his face bruised and swollen, and he looked around in horror.

When he realized that this was Wang Laizi's residence, he seemed to understand something. He was so frightened that he couldn't even scream. He could only gasp for breath. His lower body was soaked and filled with a foul stench.