The night wind swirled with paper money, making a mournful, sobbing sound above Suochun Garden.
The enormous, pitch-black coffin had completely split open, and a nauseating stench of corpses mixed with the smell of aged formaldehyde instantly filled the entire courtyard.
"My…give it back to me…"
The zombie king named "Chen Xiuyuan" rose upright from the coffin. He wore the official robes of the late Qing Dynasty, his body covered in black hair, and two green will-o'-the-wisps burned in his sunken eye sockets. He stared intently at Seventeen, who stood at the doorway, his gaze filled with an instinctive greed for a perfect body.
"Roar—!" Without a word, the zombie king transformed into a black shadow, shrieking through the air, and lunged straight at Seventeen's face. His withered, hook-like fingernails gleamed with a ghostly blue, poisonous light.
Seventeen stood within the threshold, not retreating an inch.
His purple eyes drooped slightly as he watched the oncoming monster. There was no fear in them, only a hint of… obsessive-compulsive disgust—the kind of disdain a highly intelligent being might have for a lower, carbon-based creature.
"Too filthy," Seventeen said softly.
He raised his right hand, gloved in black leather.
He didn't use any fancy martial arts techniques, nor any Taoist talismans.
He simply clenched his fist and threw it.
[Physics Engine: Full Power Output.]
[Kinematic Energy Formula: Ek = 1/2mv².]
BOOM—!!!
The force of the punch exploded.
This punch even created a sonic boom.
The Zombie King's supposedly invulnerable "copper skin and iron bones," which could only be cleaved by Taoist heavenly lightning, were as fragile as moldy tofu before Seventeen's punch, powerful enough to shake a starship's armor.
Crack—Pfft.
First came the cracking sound of bones shattering, followed by the splattering of rotting flesh.
The Zombie King didn't even have time to touch Seventeen's clothes before his entire upper body was blasted to dust by the terrifying kinetic energy of the punch.
Only his two legs, clad in official boots, managed to take two steps forward due to inertia before collapsing to their knees before Seventeen with a thud.
"This…" The entire courtyard of vengeful ghosts, paper effigies, and the "villagers" who had come to watch the spectacle fell into a deathly silence.
They had been expecting this outsider to be torn to shreds, but instead, their "ancestor," whom they had worshipped for ten years, had been… physically exterminated with a single punch?
"No soul fluctuations." Seventeen withdrew his hand, even somewhat disgustedly removing his gloves and throwing them on the ground (they were dirty).
"Just a pile of rotting flesh driven by bioelectricity and fungi."
He turned to look at Shen Qingqiu behind him, his eyes instantly softening with a hint of smugness.
"Cleanup complete." Shen Qingqiu leaned against the doorframe, toying with a red lipstick in her hand, a smile playing on her lips.
"Well done, my Grand Steward."
"However, while physical exorcism is satisfying, there are still some things..."
She pointed to the hundreds of trembling, yet still unwilling-to-disperse, wandering ghosts in the courtyard.
"They can't be dispersed by fists."
...The ghosts didn't flee because of the Zombie King's death.
On the contrary, they began to weep.
"Waaah..."
"We can't get out... The Chen family's rules can't be broken..."
"Young Mistress... You must remain chaste..." Hundreds of female ghosts, dressed in clothes from various eras, some with bound feet, some with straw markers in their hair. They gathered together, exuding a chilling aura, yet also radiating a suffocating despair and numbness.
They were vengeful spirits trapped here by the Chen family's "man-eating" feudal ethics.
"Seventeen, move aside." Shen Qingqiu tucked her lipstick into her sleeve and slowly descended the steps.
Her red dress stood out like a vibrant flame in the gloomy, ghostly realm.
She didn't take her peach wood sword, nor did she scatter glutinous rice.
She simply activated **[Overclocking Vision]**.
In her eyes, these female ghosts didn't exude much killing intent.
Clad around them were black, chain-like **"logical deadlocks**.
These were virus codes written from the principles of "three obediences and four virtues," "chastity," and "husband as the moral compass."
"What are you crying about?" Shen Qingqiu stood in the center of the courtyard, her voice cold and clear, piercing through the mournful wails of the ghosts.
A female ghost dressed in Qing Dynasty attire, her face streaked with two lines of bloody tears, floated out.
"We…we're crying out our misfortune."
"Born into the Chen family, we die as ghosts of the Chen family. Now that our young master is gone, we…we have nowhere to go."
"Who said you are ghosts of the Chen family?"
Shen Qingqiu sneered, her golden eyes blazing brightly.
"What are your names? What are your parents? What are yourselves?"
"Were you born to be sacrifices to this pile of rotten wood (referring to the Chen family ancestral tablets)?"
The female ghost was stunned.
"But…the ancestral rules…"
"Rules?"
Shen Qingqiu stepped forward, her finger pointing in the air.
[Cause and effect altered, logic rewritten.]
She wasn't casting a spell; she was debating.
In this idealistic world of ghosts and monsters, **"belief"** is power. By breaking their beliefs, their shackles could be broken.
"The Qing Dynasty is long gone!"
Shen Qingqiu's voice suddenly rose, carrying an undeniable authority unique to modern women.
"In the outside world, women can study, work, divorce, and even become president!"
"You're locked up in this dilapidated village, guarding a few broken archways. How long are you going to keep this up?"
*Buzz—* As she spoke, the black chains binding the female ghosts began to vibrate and crack.
"But...we're not clean anymore..." another female ghost with a scar on her head cried, "I was...I'm ashamed to face anyone..."
"Wrong!" Shen Qingqiu interrupted her.
She walked up to the ghost, reaching out her hand. Though she couldn't touch the physical body, her spiritual energy gently brushed across the scar.
"It's not you who's dirty."
"It's the men who treat you like playthings, like livestock."
"This scar isn't a disgrace, it's evidence of your suffering, and also...a medal of revenge." Shen Qingqiu turned around, arms outstretched, her red dress billowing.
Behind her, a red sun seemed to rise (a simulated spiritual field she created).
"Girls, raise your heads!"
"I don't need your prayers for salvation, nor do I need you to reincarnate."
"I only need you... to be angry."
"Turn your grievances, your hatred, into power."
"This Chen family mansion has imprisoned you for a hundred years."
"Tonight, I will lead you... to tear down this Zhenjie memorial archway!"
Boom!
It was as if a thunderclap exploded in the hearts of all the female ghosts.
The chains called "acceptance of fate" snapped.
The female ghosts, who had only ever cried, stopped.
The turbidity in their eyes dissipated, replaced by a monstrous, red resentment.
But this resentment was no longer directed at Shen Qingqiu; instead, it turned towards the imposing Chen family mansion.
"Tear it down..."
"Tear it down!!!" Countless female ghosts screamed. They transformed into a red whirlwind, rushing towards the front yard, towards the ancestral tablets and halls that represented oppression.
...The courtyard was mostly empty.
Only one ghost remained, still standing in the same spot.
It was the paper effigy from under the bed—the former young mistress.
Or rather, she was the mini-boss of this instance, the ghost bride.
She wore a blood-dripping red wedding dress, a red veil covering her head, and clutched a pair of scissors tightly in her hand.
She was the one with the heaviest resentment. Because she had been nailed into the coffin alive.
"You...can't leave." The ghost bride's voice echoed eerily.
"I am the core of the formation. As long as I don't dissipate, this Chen family compound will never be left." Seventeen stepped forward, her right arm slightly raised, starlight swirling at her fingertips.
"Then kill her." For such a stubborn boss, physical exorcism was the fastest way.
"Wait." Shen Qingqiu stopped Seventeen.
She looked at the ghost bride.
Looking at her slightly trembling shoulders and the tightly clenched scissors.
She was afraid.
Even as a vengeful ghost, she was still the sixteen-year-old girl forcibly placed in a bridal sedan chair and dying in despair.
"Seventeen, put away your murderous intent," Shen Qingqiu said softly.
"She doesn't need to die. What she needs is… a belated wedding."
Shen Qingqiu walked to the ghost bride.
She didn't attack, but instead reached out and slowly, gently, lifted the heavy red veil.
The veil fell.
Revealing a delicate yet deathly pale face, eyes streaming with bloody tears, her mouth sewn shut.
Shen Qingqiu felt a pang of pain.
She extended her fingertip, a faint golden light flashing, and gently traced away the black thread sealing her mouth.
"Does it hurt?" Shen Qingqiu asked.
The ghost bride froze.
For a hundred years, no one had ever asked her if she was in pain. Everyone only asked if she was obedient and compliant.
"It hurts…" Large tears fell from the ghost bride's eyes, turning into drops of blood.
"Then don't hold back." Shen Qingqiu pulled something from her storage space.
It was a **holographic phoenix crown** she had casually designed while preparing for Seventeen's wedding in the cyber world.
"This Chen family wedding dress is too dirty, it doesn't suit you."
Shen Qingqiu waved her hand.
A stream of light enveloped the ghost bride.
Her blood-stained old wedding dress vanished, replaced by a shimmering, colorful gown, full of modern aesthetics and classical charm.
"Tonight, I'm in charge."
Shen Qingqiu took the ghost bride's hand, pointing to the moonlight filling the courtyard.
"I'll marry you off to… freedom."
"Go."
"Go kill the matchmaker who killed you, go burn the coffin that nailed you to the ground."
"Then, go wherever you want." The ghost bride looked at her glowing new dress, then at Shen Qingqiu's encouraging gaze.
The bloodlust in her eyes faded, returning to clear, distinct black and white.
She bowed deeply to Shen Qingqiu.
Then, she transformed into a wisp of green smoke and rushed towards the paper matchmaker who was trying to escape in the front yard.
...The courtyard was finally completely quiet.
The once eerie Suochun Garden now seemed somewhat empty and desolate.
Seventeen had been standing behind Shen Qingqiu, quietly watching everything.
Watching her use her sharp tongue to refute the hundred ghosts; watching her use gentleness to redeem the vengeful spirit.
"This is... using logic to exorcise ghosts?"
Seventeen stepped forward and hugged her from behind.
"Yes." Shen Qingqiu leaned against him, closing her eyes wearily.
"Sometimes, reason is more effective than fists."
"Especially with women." Seventeen rested his chin on her shoulder, looking at the mess on the ground and the broken coffin.
"Then...am I useless?"
His voice carried a hint of hurt from being neglected.
"How could you?"
Shen Qingqiu turned around and cupped his face in her hands.
She looked into his violet eyes, reflecting the moonlight, and smiled, her eyes crinkling.
"Reason is for those who can understand."
"As for those zombies, bullies, and even the gods who can't understand human language…"
She took his star-studded right arm and kissed the cold metal fingertips.
"We still need my knight, to persuade them with iron fists… with physical force." Seventeen's eyes lit up.
He grabbed her waist and pulled her close.
"Yes, sir."
"Be ready… to persuade them." Under the moonlight.
The gloom of the old mansion dissipated.
The two stood on the ruins, smiling at each other.
In this instance filled with feudal decay and the aura of death, they used their fists and reason to carve out a path to freedom.