Chapter 94: So Awesome!

"Broad daylight—and forcing possession?" the ghost had some nerve.

Yes.

The dark, malignant cloud that burst in a moment ago was a ghost, and not just any ghost—a feral ghost.

Ling Qiu’s breath caught.

If it were a vengeful ghost, then of course it could move about by force even under the sun. But a feral ghost was not quite that far along. To stride to this place in broad daylight and not burn itself on yang energy—was that not dangerous?

Still, there are powerful feral ghosts, the kind nearly on the way to becoming vengeful ghosts, who can barely pull it off. This one might simply be a hotheaded fool.

"This ghost found us faster than I expected."

It had come after detecting the mark Zhao Dezhu left when he lit a cigarette.
That mark, in plain terms, was nothing more than Zhao Dezhu’s own bed.

Ling Qiu narrowed his eyes and stood at once. Instinctively he summoned the Yama Ring, a surge of force rippling from him.
As he did, Cheng Youyou shifted immediately.
Her whole body seemed to be bathing in a swamp of eerie ghostly miasma, a black malevolent aura wrapping her in all directions, her eyes turning a frightening red.

Under the ghost’s possession, her complexion turned bloodless white, and her body radiated a freezing, knife-like chill.

And yet, she was still astonishingly beautiful.
Even with that spectral look, she kept a delicate face. The pale, colorless skin only gave her an even more morbid, haunting beauty.
Then Ling Qiu finally understood why Ning Caichen had gone down such a path—such was no easy road.

Bzz...

At the moment the feral ghost entered Cheng Youyou’s body, it hurried to find yang energy to devour.
Yet, it trembled, then charged toward Ling Qiu like something gone mad.

The reason was simple.
Its target had been Zhao Dezhu.
Zhao Dezhu had a ghost-attracting constitution: weak yang, and his three souls dull.
That was why this feral ghost dared to possess and drink yang energy in full daylight; it had made its calculation and chosen that target.
But it had entered the wrong body.
In Cheng Youyou, yang energy was by no means weak, and her three souls were bright.
So the ghost took a backlash. In pain, it instinctively transferred its target to Ling Qiu, thinking he must be the weaker one.

"Trying to die?" Ling Qiu slapped Cheng Youyou’s forehead.

"Get out!"

Bzz!

A violent jolt shook through her; a sinister black shape of the ghost surged out from inside Cheng Youyou.
Yet just as Ling Qiu believed he was about to drive it out, the spirit slid back into her body again like sticky gum.
What?

This one strike, with even a trace of soul-force from the Yama Ring, could not expel a single feral ghost?

No. Something was wrong.
If he could not drive the ghost from Cheng Youyou’s body this way, then his usual method—subduing spirits with soul-binding weapons—would not work.
If he used the Ghost Shackle Chain or the Ghost-whip and struck through Cheng, he might reduce the ghost to dust,
but Cheng would be violently wounded.
A living person in the world of the living being struck by netherworld arms was no simple matter.

"Ugh, ugh, ugh—!"
Cheng Youyou gave a strange cry from her throat and still lunged at him without hesitation.

"Too bad there are too few soul-binding implements in the realm of the living," Ling Qiu thought. "This is all I have."
He did not dare waste time. The longer the ghost stayed in her, the deeper the harm.

He took her up in his arms.
Now, Cheng Youyou, in a frenzy, tried to wrench herself free.
But to Ling Qiu, that strength was nothing.

Without hesitation, he kissed her red lips.
The moment he did, Cheng Youyou shuddered violently.
At once, with his tongue parting her lips and teeth, currents of icy, piercing air surged up from her body into his mouth.

The freezing, destructive aura in her body vanished at tremendous speed.
Not vanished—but transferred.
Transferred into Ling Qiu.
From his own mouth.

Yes. This was the most direct, brutal way.
Without harming Cheng’s body, simply draw out the feral ghost through the mouth.
To swallow it himself was the quickest means of subduing it.
In mere seconds—barely more than a dozen—the feral ghost inside Cheng was almost entirely swallowed into Ling Qiu’s belly.
Right after, Cheng’s complexion gradually returned, and her consciousness came back.

When she snapped to awareness, she was shocked to find herself locked in Ling Qiu’s embrace.

And then—

"Ugh, ugh, ugh!"
Two or three hazy seconds passed before Cheng Youyou’s heart screamed within.

Yet her lips were fully claimed by Ling Qiu, possessively and completely.
She could not speak.
Instinctively she tried to push him away,
but found herself weak through and through, as though every bone in her body hurt from exhaustion.
She could not even simply separate her own soft lips from that domineering kiss.

All she could do was glare at Ling Qiu with fierce eyes.
A warning, a defiance.
No matter how hard she made that furious face, Ling Qiu did not loosen his hold. His eyes, half-lazy and steady, stayed fixed on hers, only inches away.
To Cheng, that look was pure provocation.
How unreasonable.

Cheng’s face burned red and her ears flamed.
She had never been with a man like this.
She had watched plenty of romantic films; as a young woman, whenever the lead couple kissed, she had at least indulged in a little daydream of her own.
Yet in all her life, not a single man had stirred even a shred of infatuation in her.
Still, no woman can honestly say she has never imagined her first kiss.
Even if there was no face she longed for, the imagined scene should not have turned out like this.

Her mind was in ruins.
Die, Ling Qiu!
You terrible scoundrel—how dare you!

Missing her chance over and over, ruining a goal she had labored on for so long—those she could forgive.
But now he had stolen her first kiss, too!

She wanted to say something, and, on instinct, her tongue tried to move.
A moment later, to her horror, it was entangled with Ling Qiu’s tongue.