Chapter 95: Ghost House 28

Su Man could feel the scorching heat radiating from the raging flames. The dagger in her hand blocked the kitchen knife that Qian Ji's mother swung down at the last possible moment.

“Qian Ji, you shouldn’t have been born, you shouldn’t have been born. No one will ever love you.”

Qian Ji’s mother seemed to mistake Su Man for her son, murmuring the words as her movements grew increasingly frantic and desperate.

Had Su Man’s knife skills not been so competent, she would have taken a blade to the chest by now.

But no matter how skilled she was, she could not remain here entangled with Qian Ji’s mother any longer—the fire was spreading upward, threatening to engulf everything.

With one swift kick, she sent Qian Ji’s mother sprawling. Such an obsessed, vengeful spirit was relatively easy to handle. She then urged Rong Rong and Qing Nian to race upstairs.

They had only taken a few steps when Su Man halted, as if struck by a sudden thought. She turned back and headed downstairs. “Stay up there and don’t move. I’ll go down and check.”

The sole element in this old Western-style building connected to the fire was the kitchen—the same source where the blaze had ignited before.

“Wait, I’ll come with you,” Qing Nian said, his voice bold.

Su Man gave him a glance. “If you die, it’s your own fault.”

Rong Rong, seeing both men ready to descend, could not remain idle. She insisted on following them down as well.

As they moved, Su Man asked Qing Nian, “How long have you been neighbors with them?”

“Quite a long time,” he replied quickly. “Before their family’s tragedy, I lived right here.”

He appeared to understand the question’s intent and continued, “I had never witnessed such a ferocious fire.”

His gaze lowered. “In truth, the blaze that consumed Ai Ji wasn’t particularly large. If it had been as intense as this, authorities would have been alerted long ago. Ai Ji’s death would never have gone undetected, nor could Qian Ji’s crimes have remained hidden.”

“Could this be Ai Ji’s obsession?” he asked, hesitating briefly. “Ai Ji wasn’t actually burned to death. When the flames rose, she still had awareness… She was murdered.”

Noticing Su Man’s piercing stare, he dropped his head lower, his voice barely a whisper. “She and that dog were killed by Qian Ji. I witnessed it all.”

Su Man stopped walking. Rong Rong turned to face him as well.

Qing Nian took several deep breaths, then his eyes grew resolute. He revealed the secret he had kept buried in his heart for so long. “At that time, I was already inside the house. Qian Ji invited me over to play… I intended to play a trick on him—hide and scare him. He probably thought I had left… Then I saw the entire process of what he did.”

His voice carried urgency. “Ai Ji must have seen me too. I watched her reach out to me for help, but I was still very young and terrified…” His words faded to a whisper. “She would surely blame me for not saving her.”

“You two witnessed it just now. Ai Ji and that dog… This must be Ai Ji’s lingering obsession.” As he spoke, his expression grew unhinged. “She was surely blaming me at the end. If I had only stood up back then, perhaps she would still be alive.”

Su Man remained silent, her eyes deep and inscrutable. Under Qing Nian’s growing guilt, she suddenly asked, “Why did Qian Ji attack Ai Ji? Since you saw everything, you must know the reason, don’t you?”

No matter how much Qian Ji despised Ai Ji, even an impulsive act had its trigger.

Qing Nian stayed quiet, his fists clenching tighter. The flickering firelight cast his face into a grotesque, sinister shadow.

Clang—clang. The final toll of the bells rang out, and the surrounding flames vanished once more.

A cool breeze swept through, instantly dissipating the faint warmth that had risen. Qing Nian felt chilled to the marrow. He had asked after all.

Yet there was no longer any reason to conceal the truth. He had come here to lay this ghost to rest.

“Actually… it was my fault.”

Or rather, because of words he had once spoken.

He remembered what he had said: “If you hate her so much, why not find a way to make her vanish from your life forever.”

He never imagined Qian Ji would take it so literally.

He had once said, before uncovering Qian Yuan’s true nature, that Qian Ji’s mother had seemed like a good person.

By contrast, his own mother was an unpredictable, violent woman whose rages were frequent. At the time, Qian Ji’s temperament had been steadier; he often invited Qing Nian to his home to play.

But they were both young then. When Qian Ji learned his mother’s temper, he would deliberately or unconsciously praise her as wonderful, showing off without realizing it.

And those unwitting boasts inflicted deep psychological wounds on Qing Nian, stirring jealousy in him.

Children’s envy is terrifying. He never realized the exact moment he changed. He only knew that after hearing Qian Ji’s boasts, he would deliberately or unconsciously provoke him, saying things like, “Family happiness isn’t eternal. Your mother might turn into mine one day…”

And so on. He uttered many such remarks, but never said them outright—only in jest. He admitted that he had wanted to make Qian Ji feel just as miserable as he did. He did not wish to suffer alone.

But one day, the scenes he had described became reality. Qian Ji’s mother changed overnight, growing erratic and lashing out at her son. At first, Qing Nian had no idea, believing his words had worked, and he grew terrified, avoiding Qian Ji.

Yet Qian Ji needed someone desperately to ease his pain. No matter how much he dodged, Qian Ji would find him and, whether Qing Nian wanted to listen or not, unload a torrent of complaints about his family. It was then that Qing Nian learned of Qian Yuan’s deeds and understood: it was not his words that had taken effect, but Qian Ji’s household carried its own burdens.

Qing Nian had grown up in an unhappy home, so everything in his world seemed wretched. Seeing Qian Ji suddenly mirror his suffering brought him a strange, twisted joy. At last, in this tragic existence, he was no longer the sole victim.

Thus, when Qian Ji’s moods turned stormy and he sought his advice, the devil inside Qing Nian took over. He spoke words he should never have said: “Perhaps your mother never truly loved you.”

“In this world, only you matter. Everyone else is unimportant.”

“And all of this is your stepmother’s doing. You should hate her!”

“And that sister of yours—she’s taken up your home. Drive them all out!”

Qing Nian himself could not recall how many such monstrous words he had hurled at Qian Ji.

Qian Ji, submerged in that poisonous atmosphere, gradually came to believe that his mother had never loved him. If she had, she would never have abandoned him over quarrels with his father.

He turned his hatred toward Jing Hua and Ai Ji. He despised every soul in that house! No one in that home loved him.

Qian Nian’s words had sown the seeds of a demon in Qian Ji’s heart.