Chapter 55 The Scarlet-Clad Vengeful Spirit, Xiao Hongniang

Yang Yongsheng wielded immense power in Rong City, but Yan Yu never imagined that this man not only controlled the living—he could even keep the dead at bay!

After murdering his own parents, Feng Liang’s resentment had reached a peak; one more step and he would have become a vengeful spirit. Yet even so, he could not force his way into the building of the Internet addiction center. After several failed attempts, he realized he was helpless against the talismans pasted over the doors and windows, and with Yan Yu and the others pursuing him from below, Feng Liang turned into a swirl of black smoke and fled.

Once Feng Liang decided to escape, not even Yan Yu could keep pace. The three of them could only watch him vanish in silence.

“Another death,” Master Cao sighed. “Master, we should leave quickly. If the police arrive, we’ll have a hard time explaining ourselves.”

If the police investigated and found out Yan Yu had been present when Feng Liang’s parents died, things would get complicated.

Yan Yu nodded grimly. “Let’s go back for now.”

They retreated to where the motorbike was parked. The wail of police sirens grew ever closer. Master Cao hopped onto his little scooter, and with Yan Yu and Zhao Qingqing, they slipped through a side alley, avoiding the police and heading toward Xinghua District.

“Master, what should we do next?” Master Cao asked anxiously.

“Feng Liang’s obsession has grown, but he still retains a shred of reason—he won’t harm innocents. That gives us a window of opportunity,” Yan Yu replied, deep in thought.

Zhao Qingqing looked uneasy. “Honey, I feel strange… as if something dangerous is about to happen.”

No sooner had she finished speaking than a white paper crane fluttered down, landing on Yan Yu’s shoulder.

He turned, hesitated a moment, then his face changed abruptly. “Old Cao, watch out!”

“What—”

Master Cao’s words were cut short as a car shot out from a side street and struck the scooter, sending it flying.

Yan Yu and Master Cao were both flung away by the immense force. Zhao Qingqing transformed into a ghostly blur, rushing to shield Yan Yu, but he quickly pointed to Master Cao instead, and Zhao Qingqing spun around just in time to protect the older man.

Master Cao was over fifty; if he’d hit the ground at that speed, he’d likely have landed straight in a coffin. Even with Zhao Qingqing’s protection, he tumbled a dozen times before coming to a stop, his frail body feeling as if it might fall apart. He lay there gasping for breath, unable to move.

Yan Yu, meanwhile, rolled several times but landed on his feet, skidding five or six meters before stopping.

“Who did this!” Yan Yu’s expression turned icy. The car had clearly been aiming for them—no different from attempted murder.

“Well, you handle yourselves better than I expected. I thought I’d kill you outright.” From the car emerged Liu Sen, a strange smile playing at his lips. “My name is Liu Sen, a Blue-robed Disciple of the Ghost Valley Sect. You’ve got some tricks up your sleeve, boy. Who’s your master, what sect do you hail from?”

Yan Yu straightened, anger blazing in his eyes. “You’re not worthy to know my master! We have no feud with you—why try to kill us?”

“How spirited,” Liu Sen sneered. “You don’t even know what you’ve done? Young Master Li—he died because of you, didn’t he?”

Yan Yu’s gaze sharpened. “You’re with the Li family?”

“So you do understand,” Liu Sen replied. “I don’t want to waste time. Out of respect for your cultivation, hand over that ghost and I’ll let this matter drop. I just need something to show the family.”

Yan Yu noticed the deep blue “Ox Tears” smeared on Liu Sen’s eyelids—he had opened his Yin-Yang eyes, and could see Zhao Qingqing.

“Qingqing, protect Old Cao. This one’s mine,” Yan Yu said quietly, positioning himself to shield her.

“Be careful, honey…” Zhao Qingqing murmured anxiously.

Liu Sen licked his lips. “Marrying the dead—don’t you know that’ll shorten your life?”

“That’s none of your concern!” Yan Yu had no patience for someone who wanted him dead. He attacked first, his fist flying toward Liu Sen.

Liu Sen snorted. “You little punk, you think you—ugh!” Yan Yu’s fist landed on Liu Sen’s abdomen. A moment before, Liu Sen had looked down on him; a moment later, he was filled with regret.

With a single punch, Liu Sen felt his stomach cave in, several ribs snapping. Was this kid a demon? How could he be so strong?

Liu Sen’s physical strength far exceeded that of ordinary men; even a heavyweight champion would be no match. He never took regular people seriously.

But Yan Yu was no ordinary man. The power and technique of that punch—no one could muster such force without decades of grueling training.

If Yan Yu’s fist had landed a few centimeters higher, Liu Sen’s heart might have burst on the spot.

Yan Yu withdrew his fist. Liu Sen clutched his stomach, his face pale as he collapsed to his knees, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

“Well?” Yan Yu stared at his own fist in surprise. “You made such a dramatic entrance—I thought you’d be tougher than this.”

“My husband is amazing! I want to give you a dozen babies!” Zhao Qingqing cheered from behind.

“Hey, are you all right? Should I call an ambulance for you?” Yan Yu asked, peering down.

Liu Sen glared furiously at Yan Yu. Even if he had ten times his courage, he wouldn’t dare cross Yan Yu again.

Suddenly, Liu Sen pulled a hairpin from his clothes and stabbed it through his left palm.

“Resorting to self-harm when you can’t win? That’s a new one,” Yan Yu commented dryly.

Ignoring him, Liu Sen began to chant: “By ancestral decree, double-edged vajra, soul-chasing order, reveal your true form!”

As the incantation ended, the hairpin greedily absorbed the blood from Liu Sen’s palm, glowing with a sinister red light.

Zhao Qingqing felt a sudden pressure and warned, “Be careful, honey—he’s calling for backup!”

Yan Yu sensed danger too, but before he could react, a beam of red light shot from the hairpin, hurling Yan Yu several meters back.

Master Cao, slowly regaining consciousness from the commotion, hazily gazed upward—only to see a headless woman in a crimson bridal gown floating in the sky.

“Good grief—a ghost!” Master Cao screamed and promptly fainted again.

Zhao Qingqing could only sigh in exasperation.

Yan Yu staggered to his feet, staring warily at the red-clad female ghost above. A chill ran through his heart: The yin energy around her was far stronger than Feng Liang’s had been—she might truly be a vengeful spirit of the highest order.

Wiping blood from his lips, Liu Sen sneered, “Red Matchmaker is a treasure bestowed upon me by my master. No matter how skilled you are, you’re no match for a red-clad specter!”