Chapter 96: Haunted House 29

That day, he was invited by Qian Ji to play at home as usual. Just as they entered, he saw Ai Ji playing with a dog like a little fool. She chased the dog and accidentally bumped into Qian Ji.

He remembered that Qian Ji’s face had been extremely gloomy and terrifying at the time.

He had joked, “Since you hate her so much, why don’t you let her disappear completely from your sight?”

He could swear he had no intention of making Qian Ji act. He was merely being sarcastic, but unexpectedly, when Qian Ji went out to pour him tea, he hid to scare him only to witness Qian Ji chopping Ai Ji.

He stuffed her into the cabinet and set it alight. The cabinet might have been fire-resistant, however, and the blaze did not spread. When Qian Ji returned with the tea, the fire had barely begun, smoldering in a small ring around the cabinet. Qing Nian longed to escape and check whether Ai Ji still breathed, yet his legs refused to obey him. Even the little dog scampered over and barked furiously at the cabinet where he hid. He was utterly terrified.

He overheard Qian Ji mention a police officer inside the house investigating the diamond necklace. He feared the officer would arrive and misjudge him for the crime. More than that, he dreaded the questions about the necklace, for he knew Qian Ji had taken it, sold it for cash, and treated him to dinner with the proceeds.

In Qian Ji’s account, the money had belonged to his mother, and the future was his as well; he could spend it however he wished.

He could confess these details to the police, yet the thought that most terrified him was Qian Ji turning the accusations around. In that case, he truly would have no defense.

Just as he wavered, Qian Ji returned. He dared not move, praying only that Ai Ji’s life would hold a little longer.

In truth, Ai Ji’s life was stubborn. The blade had not claimed her, and even the smoke’s suffocating heat roused her. Yet nothing could be done. When she woke, Qian Ji was squatting before the cabinet, staring down at her.

She wept helplessly, too frightened to speak, her eyes darting in silent appeal toward Qing Nian.

Qing Nian’s heart nearly stopped from terror. In his panic he beseeched every god and saint he had never honored.

Perhaps his prayers worked. Before Qian Ji noticed him, the dog returned, frantic and barking. Seeing Qian Ji ignore it, the creature lunged toward the cabinet as if to drag Ai Ji out.

Unfortunately, it was struck from behind by Qian Ji’s knife and tumbled inside as well.

Qing Nian still recalled the chilling coldness in Qian Ji’s face as he addressed the twitching corpse: “Since you loved your master so dearly, follow her into death.”

Scenes that followed he could not bear to remember. Qian Ji watched Ai Ji fail to die, then hacked off her head with the blade.

Qing Nian never knew how he had fled that place. All he remembered was the eyes that would not close in death, haunting his dreams for years.

From that moment his life changed. He stopped seeking Qian Ji, grew silent and withdrawn. Qian Ji, whether from guilt or the murder itself, likewise refrained from seeking him out.

Only later, after learning Qian Ji’s entire family had perished, did he leave that devil-haunted house. He sought solace in temples and gods, wondering whether ghosts truly walked this world, for guilt and sin weighed heavily upon him.

He never returned, yet Hu Nianlai found him and insisted on visiting the place. He understood it was fate; he would have to come here eventually.

The journey proved necessary. He saw Ai Ji, saw Qian Ji, and was forced to confront every sin he had committed.

Yet when he sensed no hostility from either of them, a strange relief bloomed inside him. Perhaps Heaven intended to let him forget the past and begin anew.

Then, as they prepared to leave, the door barred their way.

He began to believe in destiny once more. Traces of fate had guided them here, and although Qian Ji and Ai Ji had not recognized him, the same fate demanded he remain and speak these truths to atone.

This was why he chose to speak now.

After the words left his mouth, the crushing weight on his chest seemed to lift, leaving him strangely light.

“Things ended as they did. Perhaps this is why Ai Ji cannot bear to watch him die without saving…” He now believed it firmly. This was his destiny. Ai Ji had meant to leave him here to suffer for his sins.

Su Man had not anticipated such a revelation, nor had she expected the true architect of all this evil to be Qing Nian.

The motive was even more grotesque: jealousy of their happy home.

Law might not convict him, yet morally he had already paid a thousand deaths. Still, morality could not slay a conscience that had rotted away.

“I have changed,” Qing Nian insisted hastily. “I am nothing like I was before.”

“Even if you say so, it changes nothing. You owe me no apology.” Su Man listened without interest. Then, struck by a thought, she asked, “When Ai Ji died, did that great grandfather clock ring as well?”

She indicated the massive clock standing in the middle of the hall.

Its hands still pointed at twelve.

“Yes… the clock rang then,” Qing Nian answered, gaze drifting to the clock and stirring old memories. “It was strange. I once heard Qian Ji say the clock had been broken for years, yet that day it suddenly struck as though the mechanism had seized…”

He fell silent, again touched by fate. “Perhaps this is destiny… Ai Ji was too unwilling, wasn’t she?”

Ai Ji unwilling?

Su Man narrowed her eyes, neither confirming nor denying.

Her gaze swept the room. “Come out. You have heard every word Qian Nian said. What are your thoughts? Does any regret linger in your heart?”

Cold sweat broke across Qing Nian’s back. “Who are you addressing? Is… him?”

Su Man ignored the question, still talking to empty air. “I don’t believe you feel regret. Qian Nian merely acted as a spark. The one who truly struck was you, and it was you who secretly wished for it!”

“You are a thoroughgoing villain. Villains do not repent. Do I speak truth, Qian Ji?”

“Everyone deserves to die! No one in this world loves me! I am the most pitiful!”

Qian Ji’s face twisted, his form slowly materializing in the hallway, radiating only malice.

“No!” a fierce voice broke in. Rong Rong’s eyes were red. “Dad is the most pitiful!”

Su Man glanced at her without comment. Calling Qian Ji forth had been to confirm a suspicion. He must know.

“This haunted space belongs to the precious princess, does it not?”