Chapter 2: The Beautiful Male Corpse in the Coffin (Revised)

“Ghost Mirror, I’ve failed time and time again, unable to even pass a minor lightning tribulation. In the future, I’ll surely be mocked mercilessly by those self-righteous fellows… Don’t you have any particular thoughts on us sharing this disgrace?”

“Ghost Mirror, didn’t you say that the power of the heavenly lightning is at its weakest in the mortal realm, and that there was an eighty-eight percent chance of success if I underwent the tribulation here? But why did I just feel that the lightning strike here was even more ferocious than the ones back home? Are you really not messing with me on purpose?”

“……”

The snow-clad man addressed as Ghost Mirror wore an expression as cold as a thousand-year-old iceberg. He remained silent and motionless, as if he hadn’t heard a sound.

After a long silence, seeing that they had finally reached the top of the imperial mausoleum, Ghost Mirror finally spoke.

“Your baleful aura is too heavy, and your fate is cursed. You are destined to suffer ten thousand and one misfortunes before your luck can turn. Once your luck turns, you will naturally succeed in your tribulation. Very well, this physical body died only a few days ago and is completely intact. Get in!” With those words, Ghost Mirror pressed the black shadow into a magnificent, gold-lacquered coffin with one hand.

Instantly, the black shadow’s continuous stream of complaints vanished.

With his ears finally at peace, Ghost Mirror hovered in the air, sat cross-legged, and waited for the time it would take for an incense stick to burn for the shadow to occupy its new body.

……

……

Ye Zhenhuang felt as if she were having a nightmare. In the dream, the man she loved used the sword she had forged to pierce her heart, blood flowing endlessly.

The hatred was so deep.

As her breathing hitched, Ye Zhenhuang dreamed again that she held that sword, slaughtering the scumbag man and the treacherous woman together—how satisfying!

Suddenly, with a “rip,” the dream shifted.

Ye Zhenhuang saw her clothes being scorched by raging flames, and then her body…

“Ah—” Trapped in the nightmare, accompanied by that extreme, searing heat, Ye Zhenhuang let out a startled cry. Her tightly closed eyes rolled restlessly, her hands fumbled about wildly, and a layer of cold sweat broke out on her forehead.

It wasn’t until a cold sensation suddenly touched her left hand that she gradually calmed down.

In the space between dream and reality, that terrifying feeling of being burned all over and the unbearable heat seemed to slowly recede.

Ye Zhenhuang’s consciousness slowly cleared from its scattered state. Her long eyelashes trembled, and she gently opened her eyes.

Only then did Ye Zhenhuang feel that something was wrong.

At a glance, she discovered that her left hand was intertwined with another cold palm, held tightly together.

Following that hand upward, her eyes met the pale face of a man. Ye Zhenhuang was startled and abruptly sat up.

“Bang!”

“Ah… hiss! That hurts!”

Ye Zhenhuang’s head slammed into something hard, and she couldn’t help but gasp in pain.

As she parted her lips, the cool, smooth object she had been holding in her mouth slipped out.

The light here was dim and murky, with a few night-luminescent pearls the size of an infant’s fist scattered nearby, emitting a faint glow.

Ye Zhenhuang casually grabbed one of the pearls and, by its light, examined the object in her hand. She looked at it again and again, finally confirming what it was that she had accidentally spat out.

“Cold Ice Jade… Isn’t this the treasure used to keep a corpse from rotting for a thousand years? Why was it in my mouth? Didn’t I already die? What is going on?”

Ye Zhenhuang stared at the piece of Cold Ice Jade, filled with confusion.

She moved her legs, but accidentally bumped into the man beside her.

The man had no breath, his body was stiff; it was clearly a male corpse that had been dead for several days.

The male corpse also had a piece of Cold Ice Jade in his mouth. His pale face was like jade, his exquisite features finely carved. Although his eyes were tightly shut and he was devoid of life, one could still see that he possessed an air of noble, peerless elegance.

In particular, the male corpse was dressed in luxurious, magnificent red wedding attire.

However, the collar of the wedding robe was slightly open, and on that fair neck, several marks from a sharp object were faintly visible.

Wait… wedding attire?

Ye Zhenhuang was suddenly stunned and looked down at herself.

These exquisite embroideries, these inlaid pearls and gems—why was she also wearing a red bridal gown?

Although she had a marriage contract with Lou Qingshu, their wedding had been delayed time and again, and she had never had the chance to wear a bridal gown before she died.

Thinking of Lou Qingshu, Ye Zhenhuang’s expression turned cold.

“Lou Qingshu! You scumbag, to be able to see your true face before I died, it wasn’t in vain that I, Ye Zhenhuang, lived such a life!”

Recalling how she had personally thrown Lou Qingshu off the cliff before she died, Ye Zhenhuang felt that she had no regrets or attachments regarding her past life. From now on, she would never have to live for a scumbag again.

The most urgent task was to figure out the current situation.

Her thoughts traveled across thousands of miles in an instant.

Ye Zhenhuang pressed two fingers to the acupoints at her temples. The consciousness remaining in this body was successfully read by her, flooding into her divine sense like a tide.

A moment later, Ye Zhenhuang was certain that her soul had transmigrated to this lower-plane mortal realm and was reborn using this female corpse.

This was the Lanhuang Continent, home to various nations large and small. The country she was in was called the Fenglan Empire, and the narrow space she currently occupied was a coffin in the empire’s royal mausoleum.

This female corpse was also named Ye Zhenhuang, a disreputable and notoriously useless legitimate daughter of the Marquis of Zhongwu’s estate.

The beautiful male corpse lying beside her was the original owner’s fiancé, His Highness the Prince of Jing of the Fenglan Empire, the Seventh Prince, Chu Jinchen.

A few days ago, this legitimate daughter and her fiancé, Prince Jing, were out on an excursion when they were attacked by demonic beasts. Neither of them could cultivate, and their guards had been dismissed, leaving them unable to resist the attack.

While fleeing together, Prince Jing had desperately shielded the young lady from a beast’s attack, and she had refused to leave his side.

In the end, the two were no match for the beasts and were knocked off a steep mountain.

When the guards arrived, the two were battered and bloody, already dead.

Prince Jing was the Emperor’s favorite son. Grieved and moved by their true love, he had arranged a ghost marriage for them, burying them together in this coffin.

“However, when a prince travels, the area is usually cleared beforehand. How could there be demonic beasts?” Ye Zhenhuang felt suspicious.

Ye Zhenhuang examined the male corpse back and forth and discovered that the fatal wounds were the marks on his neck.

The beast’s claw marks were deeply purple, left by toxins seeping into the body.

But demonic beasts wouldn’t smear poison on their claws, and there were no demonic beasts that naturally possessed poisonous claws. This meant the poison was man-made.

Recalling the sequence of events, she couldn’t help but sneer.

This young lady had previously been instigated by her brother to cause a great disaster. The old Marquis had been so angry that he ordered her to be grounded, forbidding her from leaving her room for three months. It was her half-sister who had “kindly” let her out in secret.