Feng Lin had actually done what Xinxin had asked. The lowest floor would soon be opened. Outside, visitors were already crowding around—or should he say onlookers?
Most were only here to satisfy their curiosity about the rumors.
"How do I look?" Liu Yan was torn from his thoughts when Xinxin stepped onto the top step of the staircase and looked down at him.
She wore an elaborate dress made of fine, thin silk with playful butterflies and iridescent flowers. Her bare legs flashed through the fabric and were adorned with jewelry and chains.
Her long, dark hair was artfully styled, and the jewelry spilled delicately through it. She wore only subtle makeup—light makeup around her eyes and lips.
Liu Yan stared at her. If you were to place the girl he met a few months ago at the Zhao residence next to her, you would think they were two different people.
His gaze wandered over the fabric that accentuated her hips and curves. The bracelets and necklaces jingled on her wrists as she descended the stairs.
He couldn't take his eyes off her, not when she approached him, nor when she stood in front of him. All he could do was look at her.
Liu Yan felt the urge to kill every male creature that walked through the door with her own hands so that they couldn't catch a single glimpse of her. He stood there stiff as a board.
In his mind, he drenched the hall with blood and filled it with lifeless bodies. The ringing in his ears increased and waves of hot and cold surged through him like a storm.
"Like a prostitute," he finally replied coldly. Xinxin's smile faded. Her gaze turned angry and she put her hands on her hips. But she calmed down just as quickly as she had gotten upset and grinned mockingly at him.
"Luckily, it doesn't matter what you think. As long as they're entertained out there," she retorted, pointing to the crowd outside.
Liu Yan flinched almost imperceptibly. It didn't matter what he thought? He resisted the urge to grab her and stuff her into a sack, and took a few deep breaths.
"Gosh, I didn't expect such a crowd. Men are pigs, just here to gawk," Feng Lin's voice rang out.
The landlady had also dressed up. She looked like a peacock with exaggerated, bright colors, lavish, clinking jewelry, and a face full of makeup.
She hurried down the stairs and looked Xinxin up and down. She was visibly proud of her work and smiled contentedly when her gaze fell on Liu Yan.
"With that expression on your face, my dear, please go and help out in the kitchen.
You'll scare everyone away," she said harshly and pushed him out of the hall. Xinxin waved cheekily goodbye. Then she took a seat behind a guqin in the middle of the hall.
Liu Yan didn't let himself be pushed away. He leaned against one of the pillars in the hall and watched Xinxin plucking the instrument rather aimlessly.
He felt nothing; he had never felt anything except annoyance. He was quickly annoyed by many things, but the feeling faded just as quickly.
He didn't hate anyone, neither Zhao Hua nor her family, nor did he really hate all the other people who had treated him with ridicule, scorn, and contempt throughout his life. He simply didn't care about them.
Revenge was something he wanted to do for himself because it was something one should do, wasn't it? One took revenge on those who had wronged one. He wanted to see them suffer, not out of hatred or vindictiveness, but because he was simply curious to see if it would make a difference.
He felt no disgust or aversion toward demons or the people and animals on whom he had tested his power. He hadn't done it to express his hostility, on the contrary.
Life was quite boring for him. If there was nothing new for him to discover, everything was monotonous and gray. It had always been that way, and he thought it was normal.
Liu Yan crossed his arms in front of his chest and watched Xinxin with a hint of a smile as she proudly managed to play a few consecutive notes.
She looked confidently at Feng Lin, but Feng Lin just shook her head and seemed close to despair.
There was only one being in this world who could stir his heart. It was as if it paused for a moment and then beat faster to prove something to him. Feng Lin positioned Xinxin, baring one of her legs and throwing her hair back. Then she turned her hips and arched her back.
She sounded like a strict teacher. Xinxin struggled to fulfill all her requests. Nevertheless, Feng Lin watched her every three steps as she approached the door and still seemed not quite satisfied.
Finally, she shrugged her shoulders, took a deep breath, and finally opened the door. With a beaming smile, she greeted the crowd that had gathered outside.
"You don't mind your wife putting herself in this danger?"
Liu Yan turned around. A woman in an elaborate hanfu of dark, flowing colors stood next to him.
She stood upright, her hands folded in front of her stomach. She wore a veil, so he couldn't see her face. Nevertheless, he recognized the woman Xinxin had sent him out to meet.
"She can make her own decisions. Not that I could stop her," he added.
"I always imagined a husband as a protector. Someone I could hide behind unconditionally. It turns out that a man can hide behind his wife too," she sneered. Liu Yan laughed.
"Apparently, you don't think much of hiding, otherwise you wouldn't be here," he replied. The woman snorted.
"I wanted to stop Feng Lin from opening today. The girls are scared. If they weren't so desperate and had a choice, they wouldn't be here anymore," she replied.
"Your wife is reckless. What if it's not her who catches the curse's eye, but one of us? She's not exactly a beauty," she said pointedly. Liu Yan let his icy gaze wander over the veil.
"More beautiful than you all," he replied coldly. The veiled woman snorted, then turned on her heel and stomped away.
"Hey, you there, move a little faster!" barked a man, waving Liu Yan over to him. At Xinxin's request and because most of the staff had fled, he had taken on the role of waiter. He changed direction and walked just as slowly toward the man.
The air was filled with the amateurish sounds Xinxin coaxed from the guqin. Feng Lin himself tried to save the performance with a dance.
As he placed a bowl of nuts in front of the man, Liu Yan let his gaze wander. Most of the visitors were not interested in the performance at all; they let their eyes wander in search of other girls to catch a glimpse of.
His gaze slid over the floor, the columns, and the ceiling.
Xinxin had formed a protective circle of talismans, but they showed no reaction. Even his sense, which usually reliably indicated the concentrated miasma, only produced a faint echo within him. When Xinxin had finished, she received a small round of applause. "Why are you cheering someone like that on?" asked someone at the next table.
Liu Yan glanced at the two men.
"At least she's trying to save the situation, isn't she?" replied the other. The first shrugged.
"It looks more like Feng Lin is now only offering second-rate goods because all her jewels have fallen victim to the disease," he said.
"Yes, it's a shame that none of the other girls are here. I'd be too curious," agreed the second.
Liu Yan felt anger rising within him when suddenly a bloodcurdling scream rang out. Xinxin knocked over the guqin as she quickly got up and ran out of the hall.
Liu Yan followed her.
Outside, the wind picked up. It was dark, and only a few lanterns lit the way outside the main building.
Before they reached the dormitory, Liu Yan felt the concentrated power of the miasma again.
One of the girls was crouched on the ground in front of the dormitory. She was trembling and begging, while a black shadow flew around her. Again and again, it tried to pounce on the girl, but something was holding it back.
"Fu Jin!" Feng Lin shouted, running towards the girl. The shadow raged with fury. When it realized it couldn't catch the girl, it lunged at Feng Lin.
But at the last moment, someone else stood in its way. Xinxin pushed Feng Lin out of the way and was herself enveloped in the dark cloud of miasma.
As soon as the cloud touched her, Liu Yan heard a cry of pain. Without really thinking about it, he let a thread of qi slip into the miasma cloud. The shadow reared up, hissed, and promptly devoured him too.