Ban Xia clawed at her hair, letting out a piercing scream. She lunged forward, pulling her father away, but all she saw was red.
Her father’s legs had been torn off. His breath had long ceased.
Qin Yue, startled by her scream, froze. It was as if her cry had snapped him out of a dream. He slowly raised his bloodied hands and staggered toward her, leaving a trail of gore in his wake.
“Ah Xia, what’s wrong? Ah Xia, what happened?”
He dragged himself closer, his stomach full of her father’s flesh, yet his voice remained as tender as ever—soft, affectionate, and doting.
“Ah Xia!”
“Ah Xia!!!”
The events that followed were a blur of horror and the surreal.
Qi Ming, the great master of the 21st century, arrived just in time, drawn by the sinister aura. With a peachwood sword strapped to his back, it didn’t take him much effort to eliminate Qin Yue.
Because Qin Yue didn’t resist.
Once he realized the truth, he only held his face in his hands and retreated. Step by step, he stumbled over the bones he had once thrown aside.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I’m a ghost from the Republic of China, one who starved to death. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“The sorrow of a starved ghost is that no matter what they eat, the hunger never goes away. Only human flesh can bring temporary relief. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“But, Ban Xia… that time when I saw you fall into this pit and helped you out… the way you looked at me, not with fear or curiosity, just with bright, shining eyes, saying thank you… from that moment on, I swore never to harm a human again.”
“For seven years, I kept my vow. Every time hunger nearly drove me mad, I would visit you. As long as you woke up and looked at me with those same bright eyes, I could endure it.”
“Seven years. Seven whole years. But tonight… tonight, I lost myself.”
“I starved to madness. I starved until I lost my mind. I starved until I couldn’t control myself…”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry…”
He said it over and over, face covered, not daring to meet her eyes. Even as Qi Ming’s blade extinguished his three souls and six spirits, he repeated “I’m sorry” nineteen times. Not once did he dare to call her name again.
For seven years, he had kept his vow for her. Night after night, he stayed by her bedside, waiting for her to wake, accompanying her through her teenage years.
Even on that final night, he lingered outside her door. Starved beyond sanity, driven to the brink of madness, he still didn’t harm her, though she was within reach.
He loved her.
Even in the face of such a tragic end, his love was undeniable.
But so what?
Nine lives were lost in the funeral home.
Her father, the man who raised her and was her only family, had been torn apart and consumed by him.
Such hatred could never be erased by a simple word like love.
“Would you love him, regardless of his position or whether he is right or wrong?”
Chi Wang Chuan’s voice echoed in her ears.
Ban Xia didn’t answer. She simply took a deep breath.
She couldn’t say yes.
At that moment, she understood with absolute clarity:
She had lost this wager.
"I lost." After a while, Ban Xia finally spoke, her voice heavy as she lifted her gaze. "As you said, there’s no such thing as pure love that can transcend all external factors."
"You’re wrong," Chi Wang Chuan said with a faint smile. "In that statement, you made two mistakes."
As he spoke, he raised his head. Beneath the starlit sky, the full moon shone serenely, mirroring his current tranquility.
"The first mistake is that pure love does exist. Someone once passed my test without losing a single nail."
"Yuan Fang? The abandoned wife named Yuan Fang?" Xuan Ye immediately reacted.
"Yes." Chi Wang Chuan touched his chest, just above his heart. "She passed all my tests unscathed, and I granted her the happiness I promised."
"And the second mistake? You mentioned I made two errors. What was the second?" Ban Xia pressed, sensing a shift in the atmosphere.
Chi Wang Chuan didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he exhaled deeply, as if releasing a burden buried for ages.
"The second mistake," he finally said, his voice thick with meaning, "is that you didn’t lose."
The forceps gripping Xuan Ye’s pinky nail were removed. They were stained with dried blood, but no fresh pain lingered.
No pain is eternal.
It was time to conclude the story of Chi Wang Chuan.
"You didn’t lose."
His words resonated, carrying a distant quality, as though they echoed from a place where love and hate had long dissipated.
"I saw into your heart. Though you may never forgive him, you still remember every small act of kindness, every detail of his face, and even his final words. When you recall these things, your heart isn’t filled with hate alone."
"Love cannot erase the lines drawn by principles, but neither can principles entirely obliterate love."
His words were poetic, calm, and philosophical—not what one would expect from a blood spirit. He seemed more like a sage.
Ban Xia’s jaw dropped, forming an "O" as she blinked rapidly. "You mean I won? Are you crazy, or has divine grace suddenly softened your heart?"
"You won," Chi Wang Chuan confirmed, standing tall. "Earlier, I tested you harshly, posing the most challenging questions. But your heart held sincerity. I cannot deny that truth."
"You promised—if I won, you’d lift his curse!"
"Naturally." Chi Wang Chuan let out a bitter chuckle and raised his hand, summoning a fragrant mist. "I have existed for more than a century but have never learned to break my word. I’ll lift the curse now, as I promised. Then we can have a fair fight, like real men."
The curse was dispelled after a little effort. Xuan Ye’s eyes gradually lost their blood-red hue, regaining clarity.
"Draw your blade."
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