The man is a monk in the inside, and he starts by giving his wife a crown.

Chengjiang responded appropriately, bowing slightly and mumbling a thank you. His eyes occasionally flicked to Xiuyuan, who was chanting beside him, as if only there could he find a glimmer of peace. In the crowd, some who had business dealings with the Takayanagi family or were related to them, after expressing their condolences, began to whisper among themselves, their eyes occasionally glancing at the two still-attractive widows and the vacant president's seat.

"It's so bizarre, how could it happen overnight..."

I heard it was a sudden illness. Alas, the bloodline of the Gao Liu family..."

"What should we do with the company now? With Mr. Ichiro gone, we're leaderless."

"Those two ladies are really..."

All kinds of speculation and discussion filled the air.

Xiuyuan turned a deaf ear to all this and just focused on playing his role.

The sound of Buddhist chanting never stopped, like a magic needle that stabilized the undercurrents surging in the mourning hall.

Some guests noticed the handsome young monk and became curious, asking others about his background.

When they learned that this master was a high-ranking monk invited by the Gao Liu family to perform rituals, many people showed awe in their eyes. After all, although the strange phenomenon above the Gao Liu residence last night was covered up, some well-informed people still heard some rumors.

Looking at the guests' gazes, some of them filled with awe and inquiry, and feeling the various emotions in the air, Xiu Yuan felt nothing in his heart. He just thought that the various aspects of the human world were truly interesting.

As night fell, the guests in the mourning hall gradually dispersed, leaving only the lingering smoke of incense and candles and silence.

The air was filled with the coldness of death and a lingering sense of oppression.

Mitsuko was wearing black mourning clothes and had been kneeling for a whole day. She was already exhausted.

She tried to stand up by supporting herself on the floor, but her legs were already numb and sore. Her vision went dark and her body fell forward uncontrollably.

Just at this moment, Xiuyuan, who had been chanting with his eyes closed, opened his eyes.

He seemed to have anticipated this. He moved slightly and stretched out his arms just in time to embrace the staggering Mitsuko.

The monk's robe had a faint scent of sandalwood, which formed a strange contrast with the cold mourning clothes of the woman in his arms.

"Amitabha~ˇ." Xiuyuan's voice was still steady, just like before in the courtyard, with a reassuring power.

"Donor, are you okay?"

The familiar sandalwood scent, the strong arms, the deep voice...all of this overlapped with that night.

Fear, hatred, sadness, and a new, twisted sense of dependence hit Mitsuko's almost broken nerves like a tide.

She raised her head and looked at the young monk who was close to her with tears in her eyes. Not far behind her were the three cold portraits of her husband, father-in-law and brother-in-law.

A strong sense of taboo and guilt made her tremble all over, but what followed was an even more intense desire to grab something.

This man killed her family, but he also gave her a sense of security. In this cold and empty mourning hall, in this suffocating despair, he was the only light.

"Master..." Mitsuko's voice was hoarse and trembling with tears. She clutched Xiuyuan's monk robe tightly, as if she had grabbed the last straw of life.

"I...I feel so uncomfortable..."

She felt particularly strange today, especially in front of these three portraits.

It was as if there was an evil fire burning in her body, burning away her reason and her sense of shame.

She felt like she was about to break down and needed something extreme to fill the void in her heart, to prove that she was still alive.

Xiu Yuan lowered his eyes and looked at the woman in his arms, whose face was flushed and eyes were blurred. His face still had that compassionate expression, as if he was listening to the confession of a lost lamb.

He spoke again, his voice deep and magnetic, carrying a bewitching power: "Do you need my help, benefactor?"

This voice, just like when they first met, was calm but carried a certain all-knowing understanding.

"Yes!" Mitsuko could no longer suppress her inner feelings. She almost yelled out, her tears mixed with a kind of desperate madness.

"I need it! Master, please save me! Now!"

She completely ignored the fact that Madam Chengjiang was standing not far away, a woman who was also wearing mourning clothes and had her brows lowered and her face submissive.

At this moment, the only things left in her world were the man in front of her and the three portraits staring at her.

Xiuyuan looked at Mitsuko who had completely abandoned her reserve, and felt nothing in his heart. He just felt that the scope of this "salvation" business was quite broad.

He held Mitsuko's soft waist with one hand, and raised the other hand to his chest, chanting the Buddha's name:

"Since this is the case, I will do my best to help you escape from the sea of ​​suffering."

He picked up Mitsuko sideways and ignored the cold gazes of the three portraits.

The woman in his arms wrapped around him tightly like a dodder, buried her face in his neck, and panted.

Helping others is also a kind of merit.

Merit must always be earned!

?Mrs. Chengjiang watched this scene quietly.

The mixture of sandalwood and some more primitive scent in the air made her blood begin to stir.

That is the instinct of a succubus.

A feeling of heat rose up and quickly spread to every part of her body. Her breathing became a little rapid and her vision began to blur.

The scene before her, far from making her feel uncomfortable, was like a fire that ignited her hidden instincts.

Especially Mitsuko's almost collapsed dependence and demands, which made her feel the same, and even a little... envious?

Deep in the pupils, a strange purple light quietly emerged and then quickly disappeared.

Almost at the same time, the seal of Acala on the back of his heart suddenly became scorching hot, like a red-hot iron directly attached to his soul.

The intense pain instantly ran through his body, forcibly suppressing the succubus instinct that had just risen.

"Hiss..." Chengjiang took a breath of cold air silently, and fine beads of sweat seeped out of his forehead.

But the pain did not make her retreat, instead it brought her a strange, almost twisted sense of security.

This is the mark left by the master, the proof that she has escaped the filthy fate of the Gao Liu family, and the basis for her existence as a "packhorse".

The pain made her sober, made her remember her identity, but also made her... sink deeper.

This feeling of mixed pain and submission actually made her a little intoxicated.

She watched Xiuyuan holding Mitsuko, his gesture more like control than comfort.

Mitsuko had completely given up resisting and clung to him like a piece of driftwood.

The remaining pride in Mrs. Chengjiang's heart as "Mrs. Gao Liu" completely disappeared.

She is now just the master's packhorse and should serve him at all times.

She slowly straightened her body, which had been kneeling for a long time. The curves under the black mourning dress were slightly tense due to the lingering heat in her body and the stinging pain of the brand.

She tidied up her slightly messy hair slowly, but her eyes never left Xiu Yuan.

In those eyes, there was awe, obedience, and also a hint of desire that was forcibly suppressed but became even more intense.

She took a step forward, stepping on the thick carpet, and walked silently towards the two people.

She doesn't need words, her actions speak for themselves.

She came, ready to be sent by her master at any time.

As for the three portraits, in her eyes they were no different from the wallpaper on the wall.

Xun was holding a tray with several plates of snacks she had made herself.

The style is compact and the colors are elegantly matched.

Her mother and sister-in-law must have been very busy today. Master Xiuyuan even took the trouble to chant sutras to help them pass away. She wanted to do something to show her gratitude.

Although... although there was still some inexplicable fear of the monk in his heart, he was the one who ended the nightmare of the Takayanagi family after all.

When Xun arrived at the mourning hall, she found that the door, which should have been open for condolences, was now closed.

There seemed to be strange sounds inside, not like chanting, nor like crying.

She hesitated, feeling uneasy.

Through the gap in the door, he looked inside cautiously.

At one glance, Xun froze in place, as if struck by lightning. The tray slipped from her trembling hands, clanking and sending the delicate pastries tumbling to the floor, covered in dust.

In the center of the mourning hall, the three cold portraits were staring silently ahead.

Mother Chengjiang was facing away from the door, and the Mingwang mark on her back still glowed with a faint golden light in the dim light.

Her movements were submissive, even with an almost reverent devotion.

There were still traces of tears on my sister-in-law Mitsuko's face, a mixture of pain and relief. It was more like begging than resistance.

And that Master Xiuyuan had a calm expression, as if he was a high and mighty god or Buddha taking pity on all living beings.

His movements were full of natural control, as if everything before him was just an ordinary task.

That handsome face, set against the backdrop of the portrait, exudes a strange, almost sacred majesty.

Xun's head buzzed and went blank.

What did she see? In the mourning hall? In front of the portraits of her deceased family members?

Why? Why would my mother and sister-in-law...?

Countless chaotic thoughts exploded in her mind.

She remembered the mysterious mark on her mother's back, her sister-in-law's previous collapse and cry and her complete dependence on Xiu Yuan, the terrifying power that crushed all demons, and the emotionless look in his eyes when he looked at her...

But gradually, a stranger and more terrifying idea began to grow quietly like a poisonous weed.

Maybe... this is the right thing to do?

In the face of a man who possesses god-like power and controls their life and death, are words of gratitude too pale and powerless?

Aren’t the actions of my mother and sister-in-law a more thorough and pious form of “offering” and “thankfulness”?

Just like... just like those witches who offered sacrifices to the gods in ancient times?

As soon as this thought appeared, it entangled her mind like a vine.

She thought about her first time that was taken away from her.

But now thinking back, it seems like nothing compared to what I just saw.

Perhaps, that was some kind of "purification" or "mark" given to her by the master?

Xun's breathing gradually calmed down. Although her cheeks were still hot, her eyes slowly changed.

It was no longer just fear and disgust, but a strange understanding and a kind of resolute light.

So... this is the correct way to thank Master Xiuyuan.

She squatted down silently, without picking up the dirty snacks, but just watched the "ritual" that was still going on in the mourning hall, her eyes focused, as if she was learning some new and cruel rules of survival.

　(No, Zhao) The little heart was completely twisted at this moment, and then reshaped. At this moment, Madam Chengjiang's hands were tightly grasping the cold and smooth edge of the altar, and her knuckles turned white from the force.

She had her back to the door, and the swaying of her body moved the entire heavy altar.

The edge of the table made a harsh sound as it rubbed against the ground, but the more violent vibration came from herself.

The Acalanatha image branded on her back seemed to come alive in the dim light, its golden light flickering and illuminating her slightly trembling shoulders.

Suddenly, "clang—crash!"

A series of crisp sounds broke the depressing atmosphere in the mourning hall.

The three portraits placed on the altar finally couldn't bear the violent shaking and fell forward together.

The black photo frame hit the hard floor, the glass shattered instantly, and the photo slipped out of the broken frame, covered with a layer of gray.

The face of the man from the Takayanagi family was spread out in the dust on the floor in a miserable state.

The sudden noise made Mitsuko's body stiffen. She subconsciously turned her head to the side, and a broken sob was stuck in her throat.

When she saw the three familiar yet unfamiliar faces on the floor, a hint of relief appeared in her eyes.

It's all over.

These things that symbolize her past life might as well be broken into pieces.

She closed her eyes and stopped looking, but her body clung even more weakly to the heat source in front of her.

Madam Chengjiang's back shuddered slightly, but she did not turn around.

She didn't even stop, as if what fell was just an insignificant decoration.

The shattering sound actually acted like a catalyst, making her body even more tense.