Wanniang was dead.
Wang Fugui had never expected Qu Wan to be so resolute as to hang herself in the prison the very next day.
When he heard the news and rushed to claim her body, Qu Wan had already breathed her last.
The people from the yamen gave the Qu family plenty of face; no one touched Qu Wan’s corpse, and the coroner even covered it with a white cloth to spare her modesty.
Wang Fugui had wept bitterly while holding Qu Wan’s body.
He couldn’t understand.
Why would Qu Wan rather die than bow her head to him?
He had already arranged everything; as long as Qu Wan was willing to hand over the immortal treasure, she would have lived.
He never intended to force her to death.
Qu Wan had too fierce a temper and had been pampered since childhood by Master Qu and Madam Qu. If he didn't make her suffer some hardships and stain her with disgrace, she would certainly never settle down and live a proper life with him in the future.
Holding the woman's ice-cold corpse, Wang Fugui thought about it for a long time, yet still could not comprehend why Qu Wan chose to die.
The dim, cramped prison cell, faint flames flickering against the wall, and the rustling sounds of snakes, vermin, mice, and ants crawling from the corners made it feel as though he had returned to those past years in a dream.
Wang Fugui’s mind was slightly muddled, yet he could vaguely tell that he was dreaming.
Since it was a dream, there was nothing to fear.
Over the years, Qu Wan had often appeared in his dreams, constantly glaring at him with that face of someone who had died with open, unavenged eyes, yet she could never do anything to him.
“Are you blaming me for not coming down to accompany you yet? Wanniang, don’t be in such a rush. I’m slowly growing old too; two of my teeth have loosened recently.
As the old saying goes, ‘When a man ages, his teeth loosen first.’ By the time I go down to see you, eighty percent of the teeth in my mouth will probably have fallen out completely.”
Wang Fugui looked at the corpse he held in his arms, stroking the woman’s face gently through the cloth and sighing softly:
“All these years, I’ve always dreamed of you, but you refuse to speak to me.
You’re still just like before, always looking down on me, despising me as a penniless orphan.
Yet since ancient times, a woman ought to be gentle and virtuous, supporting her husband and raising her children. I never meant to kill you; I only wanted you to learn a lesson.
I had already found a scapegoat, and the confession, petition, and witnesses were all prepared.
As long as you begged me and spoke a few soft words, I would have testified that the mineral poison in the wine was placed by my master.
Why did you have to be so stubborn and unyielding? You wouldn't even speak a single soft word to me.
Look at you now—what came of it? Aren't you still buried under a mound of dirt, without even an intact corpse left?”
At this point, Wang Fugui chuckled with an exceedingly smug expression:
“Under my Wang family’s name, there are ten restaurants and eleven distilleries. The reputation of ‘Immortal Brew’ has even reached Dongjing, far surpassing how it was when you were around.
My son, Wang Chen, became a scholar at a young age and even took the daughter of Lord Qi’s maternal uncle from the Northwest Circuit Bureau of Military Affairs as his wife. In the future, he is bound to have a bright future and a smooth official career.
If I hadn't been nostalgic and unable to let go of you, I would have taken my wife and children to Dongjing to enjoy wealth and comfort long ago.”
The white cloth covering the corpse's face began to undulate slowly, whether blown by the wind or moved by something else.
“Hehehe, they say when a person dies, the lamp goes out. Even after dying and turning into a ghost, you still have this temper—so stubborn, so proud. You get upset the moment I say a couple of words.”
Wang Fugui caressed the dead woman's face, as if whispering sweet nothings to a lover:
“When you died back then, I hired an exorcist to take a look. The layout of this distillery was arranged according to the exorcist’s guidance, and evil-dispelling talismans were pasted all over the furnishings at home, which is why you couldn't enter or find me.
It's just that that worm is indeed a treasure left by an immortal, so dealing with it is still a bit tricky...
Still, you don't need to worry. I've already found a good way to handle it...”
Wang Fugui chattered on to himself for quite a while before finally noticing something amiss.
Why was this dream so long?
Suddenly feeling his arms turn empty, the female corpse vanished without a trace, and the surrounding prison cells disappeared as well. In their place were the familiar furnishings of his bedroom.
Did he wake from the dream?
Wang Fugui opened his eyes in confusion, but before he could even utter a word, something coiled around him like a snake and hoisted him straight from the roof beam!
“!! Mmh, mmh!”
A wave of dizziness struck, and the immense pressure crushing his throat rendered Wang Fugui speechless. His delicate skin, pampered for years in comfort, was abraded and bloodied by the coarse hemp rope—
He struggled wildly, his feet dangling in empty air. Boundless suffocation engulfed him, leaving him unable to make even a sound to call for help!
This was no dream!
Someone, come!
Someone!!
Madam, save me!!
Wang Fugui saw Madam Wang, who had shared his bed for decades, lying on her side fast asleep, seemingly oblivious to any noise.
Outside the room, the night-watch servant boys took advantage of a lull to whisper and gossip with one another.
—Between inside and outside the door, it was as if separated by a solid wall; not the faintest sound could escape.
Saliva dribbled unstoppably from Wang Fugui’s mouth, and out of sheer terror, large tears rolled down from the corners of his eyes.
Who on earth was it?
Who?!
Who wanted to harm him!
He could pay!
He had plenty of money!
He couldn't die!!
“Mmh mmh mmh! Mmh mmh!”
Wang Fugui woke up completely, desperately clawing at the hemp rope around his neck, digging his fingers in so forcefully that he gouged bloody trails into his own flesh!
The hemp rope constricted tighter and tighter, bit by bit. His eyes became bloodshot, eyeballs bulging so far they seemed ready to pop out of their sockets, the base of his tongue grew numb, and waves of crushing pressure surged from his back to the back of his head straight to his forehead!
Drip... drip...
His snow-white inner garments were stained with yellow fluid, dripping down to gather into a small puddle on the luxurious Persian carpet.
Scenes from the past flashed before his eyes one after another. Pushed to absolute despair, Wang Fugui couldn't help but chant prayers in his heart:
Bodhisattva! Buddha!
Heavens above!
No matter which deity you are, if I am saved today, I will surely offer immense thanks in the future!
Beyond all expectation, the hemp rope coiled around his neck seemed to possess a life of its own, slowly loosening—
“Mmh mmh mmh mmh!”
Glimpsing hope, Wang Fugui was overwhelmed with joy.
He kicked his legs frantically, struggling to slip out from the hemp rope. Whether due to divine protection or because his time had truly not yet come, he actually managed to escape!
Thud!
Wang Fugui crashed heavily to the floor with a loud noise.
By now, he was utterly disheveled, covered in snot, tears, and foul filth, bearing not the slightest shred of dignity.
Yet no one noticed anything amiss in the room.
Madam Wang remained sound asleep, and the servant boys waiting outside were still chatting and laughing.
Exhausted in both body and mind, Wang Fugui had just opened his mouth to call for help when, turning his head, he unexpectedly found himself face-to-face with someone.
It was a woman's face, both familiar and strange.
Fox eyes, pointed chin, cherry-red lips.
Her complexion was deathly pale. On that bone-white face, pitch-black eyes without a single speck of white stared wide open. Around her neck was a deep, purple strangle mark cut down to the bone.
She smiled at Wang Fugui.
“Wang Fugui, why did you kill me?”
“Wang Fugui, why did you kill me?”
“Wang Fugui, why did you kill me?”
Wanniang.
This was Wanniang’s face.
A thunderclap erupted in Wang Fugui’s mind. As if struck by five bolts of lightning, he felt all his internal organs soaked in bitter wine and violently crushed together!
Before he could answer, the hemp rope slithered over like a snake once more, quietly winding around Wang Fugui’s neck.
“Shh, don't scream. I won't let you die so quickly.”
Wanniang gently stroked Wang Fugui’s neck, her icy fingers brushing over his eyes before her sharp long nails dug in, viciously ripping five bloody furrows:
“For thirty years, not a moment passed that I didn't think of you—my husband, they all said you were honest and dutiful, worthy of being a good husband. Yet as it turns out, you have the heart of a jackal and wolf, a vile, ungrateful brute.”
She chuckled, the long tongue hanging over her chest swaying before thrusting ruthlessly toward Wang Fugui’s heart:
“Then let this servant dig it out to see if the heart and liver inside are pitch-black...”
Wang Fugui’s eyes widened, devoid of any strength to struggle, left only to watch as the female ghost’s long tongue drew closer and closer to his heart...
Excruciating agony washed over him. Before he could even draw a breath, he passed out cold from the sheer pain.
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