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

"You're spouting nonsense!"

Cui Wenjing's final struggle was like the howl of a trapped beast, but his pale face and the unconcealed panic in his eyes betrayed him.

Lady Wei, the wife of the Duke of Wei, had already felt a chill run down her spine. Her gaze toward Cui Wenjing had gradually shifted from initial surprise and doubt to fear and anger.

She suddenly looked at the old woman beside her, her voice trembling but resolute:

"Take my token and go to the Imperial Hospital immediately. Request the attending physician on duty or the most skilled physician in examining injuries! Be quick!"

Her chest heaved violently, her eyes blazing with fury as she pointed towards the door:

"Take the most capable guards from the manor and immediately seize that physician Zhang! He must be alive; I want to question him face-to-face and find out exactly what he did that day!"

The old woman was startled and quickly agreed, turning around to rush out to make the arrangements.

However, at this moment—

"No need."

Cui Wenjing's voice suddenly rang out, eerily calm, completely different from his previous agitated and out-of-control demeanor.

Everyone in the hall stopped in their tracks because of the sudden sound.

The Duchess of Wei suddenly turned her head and stared intently at him.

Seeing that his scheme was about to be exposed, Cui Wenjing's feigned worry vanished, replaced by a sinister look of rage.

He knew very well that once the imperial physician arrived and examined him carefully, the smooth, flat skin on his left chest would expose all the lies.

The so-called "meat removal" that day was nothing more than a charade staged by him and the physician Zhang, who had been bribed with a large sum of money and leverage over him.

A fake knife is used to cut the skin's surface, chicken blood is used to disguise the wound, and then it is quickly bandaged. This is how the so-called "wound" is created.

Rather than having their last fig leaf torn off in front of everyone, it's better to do it themselves.

Cui Wenjing stopped looking at the Duchess of Wei, instead forcing a smile, his gaze sweeping over Jiang Dusheng, as if looking through her at that invisible shackle:

"Yes... I have someone I love. We made a vow under the moon long ago, promising each other to be together forever."

His voice suddenly rose, filled with long-suppressed resentment:

"But what about you?! The Wei family, the Pei family, and even my Cui family elders—all of you decided my marriage with a single sentence, binding me to this so-called match of equals!"

"Did they even ask me if I was willing?!"

His facial muscles twitched, and his eyes held genuine hatred. "I dare not annul the engagement... Yes, I dare not! The power of the Pei family, the prestige of the Duke of Wei's mansion—my Cui family cannot afford to offend them. But..."

"I would never marry a woman I don't love!"

He suddenly let out a chilling, piercing laugh, "You want to know where that piece of flesh came from? Fine, I'll tell you!"

A strange light flashed in his eyes. "She's a distant cousin of mine. She's been frail since childhood, and she... has feelings for me that she shouldn't have."

"She was seriously ill a while ago and just passed away. I used some methods to remove it from her body, and it was still relatively fresh."

He spoke casually, as if he were talking about something ordinary. "Her greatest obsession in life was to be with me. After she died... she helped me with her flesh and blood. Isn't that just fulfilling her wish?"

"As for Wei Mingli," Cui Wenjing said, his voice twisted with malice, "if she continues to be sick like this, preferably until she's completely delirious and needs constant care, or... simply dies of illness, then this marriage agreement will naturally be null and void, and no one can say anything against me!"

"And me?" He spread his hands, as if displaying his masterpiece. "I'm the fiancé who would cut flesh to heal his wounds for her. Who would doubt me?"

"You'll only be grateful to me, pity me, and feel that the Wei family owes me something! In that case, I can not only get away unscathed, but also gain a good reputation, and maybe... even get some real compensation, contributing to the marriage of the person I truly want to marry!"

"Shameless! You beast!" The Duchess of Wei could no longer bear it and shouted angrily, "Guards! Seize this heartless wretch!"

"Go and fetch the master back to the manor immediately! Then go to the Cui family and ask their head of household to come here! I want to see what kind of good sons the Cui family has raised!"

The guards who were already on guard outside immediately rushed in.

Knowing that all was lost, Cui Wenjing revealed a miserable and twisted smile.

This smile made his originally handsome and gentle face appear particularly ferocious and terrifying, as if the true face of a demon was revealed under a painted mask.

He glared fiercely at Jiang Dusheng, his eyes filled with hatred as if he wanted to devour her alive. "It's all your fault! You ruined my plans!"

Cui Wenjing hissed through gritted teeth, "I knew the Imperial Preceptor was in seclusion, I knew the people at Huguo Temple were incompetent, but... I just missed you!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a fierce glint flashed in his eyes, and he sprang up, lunging straight at Jiang Dusheng, who was standing right next to him.

His five fingers were clenched into claws, his nails neatly trimmed, yet they carried a fierce gust of wind, aiming straight for Jiang Dusheng's throat.

Clearly, they're desperate and ready to fight to the death.

The people in the hall gasped in surprise, and the Duchess of Wei screamed in fright.

Unfortunately, he was fast, but Jiang Dusheng was even faster.

Just as his fingertips were about to touch Jiang Dusheng's clothes, Jiang Dusheng did not move his feet, but simply turned slightly to the side, grabbed his wrist with his left hand, and twisted and pulled it.

Cui Wenjing felt a sudden, unexpected force, and his whole body spun around.

With a dull thud, he was slammed heavily onto the hard ground. His internal organs felt as if they had shifted, and he curled up in pain, groaning softly.

The guards, recovering from their shock, rushed forward and pinned him down, not daring to relax their guard for a moment.

Jiang Dusheng slowly stood up, her posture composed, and she even had the leisure to gently pat the hem of her dress, which had been slightly wrinkled from her movements.

She looked down at the disheveled Cui Wenjing on the ground, a sarcastic smile playing on her lips, radiating utter contempt.

"Want to hit me?" Her voice was clear and melodious, with a hint of mockery. "Young Master Cui, it seems you're not only wicked, but also have poor judgment."

She shook her head, as if lamenting the other person's ignorance, "Do you know that for the past eighteen years, my Master Xuanji has come to Nanchansi Temple every month, not only to preach, but also to force me to practice martial arts and draw talismans, without fail, rain or shine."

She leaned slightly closer, looking at Cui Wenjing's face, flushed with pain and humiliation, and slowly added:

"Oh, I forgot to mention. I've also learned the Arhat Fist quite well. Although Buddhism is compassionate and doesn't resort to violence easily, dealing with someone like you..."

She paused, her eyes suddenly turning cold. "For a wicked person who uses evil magic to harm others and has a vicious heart, stretching their muscles doesn't count as breaking the precept against killing."

Cui Wenjing was so dazed by her throw and humiliated by her words that he was trembling with anger but could not utter a word.