“Besides, a man as cowardly and useless as me is utterly unworthy of the Ghost Emperor. It’s all those silly villagers recklessly playing matchmaker.”
“So please allow me to decline the Ghost Emperor’s kind offer!”
Zhong Cheng poured every ounce of his eloquence into these words, praying they’d convince her.
To his unease, the Ghost Emperor gave no immediate reply—only watched him with a cold, mocking smile that made his skin crawl.
“What does the Ghost Emperor think…?” Zhong Cheng steeled himself and pressed on.
“Just call me ‘wife.’ No need to be formal,” the Ghost Emperor said.
Zhong Cheng: #%*&·……
*This isn’t politeness—I’m trying to cut ties! Are you even listening?*
But Zhong Cheng knew she heard perfectly. Her words were the stance itself.
Divorce? Impossible. Not in a million years.
Despair.
“You said these words last night,” the Ghost Emperor murmured, eyes narrowing. “This wife has made her position clear—I don’t mind. But if you keep saying this… you’re rejecting this wife.”
Her tone sharpened, laced with quiet fury.
The already frigid air turned glacial, biting deep into bone.
Zhong Cheng shivered violently, as if locked inside a walk-in freezer. Frost seemed to sheath his body; his teeth chattered.
*Why didn’t I wear another layer?!* he silently cursed himself—again.
“Do you know, husband,” the Ghost Emperor said coldly, “no one has ever dared reject this wife. You are the first.”
*This wife*—such a quaint, ancient self-reference. The kind that’d make any man swell with pride…
…if she weren’t radiating murderous intent.
“I’m not rejecting you! I just feel unworthy of the Ghost Emperor. This marriage—I *will* annul it!”
Zhong Cheng refused to bow to her intimidation.
*A true man knows when to yield and when to stand firm. What’s there to fear? Charge!*
He saw right through her act—that sweet, devoted-wife facade was pure deception.
Once he succumbed to her charms? No turning back.
*Husband* in name. *Emergency rations* in truth.
Last night’s memory flashed vividly: to her, a “husband” was just food.
Like a black widow devouring her mate—ruthless, merciless.
Even sharing a bed offered zero safety. The longer he stayed, the likelier he’d be eaten.
*Must annul. Every extra second is danger.*
“Your will is impressively firm,” the Ghost Emperor said, displeasure flickering across her face.
“I’m truly sorry, Ghost Emperor. As compensation, I’ll burn you lavish offerings—gold ingots, candles, maidservants, strong young men, even the latest Ferrari. Anything you want. Just… please let me go.”
Zhong Cheng channeled Tie Niu’s old advice and Taobao-customer-service professionalism, hoping it’d spare him.
“Come here. To my side.” She beckoned.
“Ghost Emperor, what is this…?” Zhong Cheng asked, voice tight.
“Come.” Her tone left no room for refusal.
Knowing resistance meant humiliation, Zhong Cheng trudged reluctantly up the steps.
“Sit.” She shifted slightly, making space.
The seat was wide enough for two.
*That’s not the problem…*
“This…”
“Sit.”
He obeyed. A delicate, soul-soothing fragrance drifted toward him.
*So fragrant… and she’s a ghost.*
Her shoulder brushing his felt soft. *And she’s a ghost.*
That devilishly alluring figure? Stunning. *And she’s a ghost.*
*She’s a ghost. Stay rational. Don’t fall for it.*
See past the surface. Choose wisely.
…Okay, her chest was huge. Definitely D-cup. Maybe E.
*Wish I could ask her size—but she’s an ancient ghost. Probably doesn’t know modern measurements.*
No golden-eyed insight to give readers an exact number.
*Keep observing.*
“No one has ever defied this Emperor,” the Ghost Emperor said suddenly. “Not the living. Certainly not the dead. In the end, they all kneel, weep, and beg for mercy.”
Zhong Cheng caught the threat. He swallowed hard. (;´д`)
*She’s about to force me.*
*Don’t yield. Stay strong. You’re the best.*
Seeing his stubborn fear, the Ghost Emperor’s lips curved into a bewitching smile. Her slender, porcelain hand gripped his chin, pulling him close.
Now she could savor his terrified expression up close.
Satisfaction glimmered in her eyes.
She drew him nearer—noses nearly touching.
The intimate closeness sent unexpected ripples through him.
Her smile was tender, gaze smoldering, lips parting as she leaned in…
*Is she going to—?*
Suck~
Just as feared—siphoning his yang energy.
He struggled, but it was futile. Same as last night. Trapped in her deceptively gentle grip.
Delicate maiden on the outside. Terminator beneath.
One soft suck—and his body deflated like a punctured balloon. Energy vanished. Weakness. Exhaustion. Collapse.
“Husband’s yang energy still tastes divine,” she murmured, licking her lips with cute regret. “Pity you haven’t recovered from last night. Can’t take too much.”
Like a bubble-tea-sipping schoolgirl… if she weren’t a cruel, ancient ghost.
“I’m not your husband… please spare me…” Zhong Cheng whispered weakly.
“Is Husband inviting this wife for another sip? How thoughtful.”
“I didn’t—”
Suck~
“I’ll annul it! This is murder!”
“Husband offers more? Such vigor.”
Suck~
“Annul! Home! Mommy, it’s too scary here—!”
“Husband is so adorable.”
Suck~
No warning—just suck. Who could endure this?!
One more suck and he’d die. *Death by total exhaustion*—not *that* kind of “essence,” but life force.
Zhong Cheng once fantasized about such a “glorious” end.
Now? He wanted to hurl that fantasy away with all his might.
*This* death-by-exhaustion was nothing like the dream!
He’d withered—sunken cheeks, hollow eyes, pants sagging loose.
His glossy black hair turned dry and straw-yellow. Skin cracked like a sun-scorched lakebed. Eyes dull as a salted fish that lost all hope.
Haggard. Withered. Like an air-dried sausage hanging on the wall.
