“You can try it on in the fitting room,” Zhong Cheng suggested.

Ghost Emperor took the clothes and stepped inside.

Moments later, she emerged completely transformed.

The loose pink crop top revealed a faint hint of bra straps at the neckline, highlighting her delicate collarbone. The light-blue pleated mini skirt left her snow-white, slender legs fully exposed.

Crimson heels elongated her already graceful legs, adding height and elegance to her silhouette—graceful, poised, effortlessly captivating.

So visually satisfying. A true head-turner.

If Ghost Emperor had been beautiful before, now she radiated fashion-forward charm—stunning, impossible to ignore.

Buy it! Buy it! Buy it! This outfit *had* to be his. Zhong Cheng summoned the same desperate resolve he’d use pulling his dream character in gacha—bankruptcy be damned.

−1,499 yuan.

A sharp pang shot through Zhong Cheng’s chest.

This damn price was *after* a 20% discount! Women’s clothes were hellishly expensive.

That sum could’ve covered his entire year’s wardrobe—and still left cash for gacha pulls.

Thankfully, worth it.

Ghost Emperor looked exquisite. Those long, flawless legs? Absolutely awesome. He barely knew where to look.

Maybe staring a little longer would ease the sting.

Back on the street, attention naturally gravitated toward her.

Clothes make the man, saddles make the horse—even ghosts are no exception.

Stylish and radiant, Ghost Emperor drew glances effortlessly.

Yet Lord Ghost Emperor seemed uneasy, glancing down at her legs repeatedly.

“What’s wrong?” Zhong Cheng asked.

“Baring my legs like this… feels too revealing,” Ghost Emperor frowned.

*That* conservative?

For someone with ancient sensibilities, perhaps it *was* indecent.

Truth was, the street teemed with women in shorter shorts, sheer tops hinting at lingerie. Compared to those flashy outfits, Ghost Emperor’s look was pure modesty.

The real reason for the stares? Her natural elegance—like comparing a flagship GPU to a budget model. No contest.

Zhong Cheng insisted it wasn’t revealing, not improper, utterly pleasing to the eye.

Still, she remained uneasy.

“If it bothers you that much, we can get black stockings. Might feel better,” he offered.

He dreaded her swapping the skirt for pants. His wallet still ached—he needed more time admiring Lord Ghost Emperor’s legs.

Besides… he was curious. Black stockings would suit her cool, aloof aura perfectly. *Very* promising.

“Mm.” She nodded.

Just as Zhong Cheng turned to lead her away, Ghost Emperor snapped her fingers. Black stockings shimmered into existence from ankles to thighs—a seamless pair of pantyhose now perfectly fitted.

No disappointment. Her poised elegance spiked instantly—pure CEO energy.

As expected: black stockings and a mature, elegant presence? A flawless match.

Zhong Cheng stared, captivated.

Wait.

“You can *conjure* clothes?” he blurted.

“Mm.” She gave a slight nod.

“…”

So… buying her clothes was never necessary?

Now he recalled—her previous outfit had vanished after the fitting room.

“Were those conjured too?”

“Naturally,” Ghost Emperor replied, as if it were obvious.

Zhong Cheng’s soul froze. *Played.*

If he’d known, he wouldn’t have faked that rich-guy swagger.

Flaunting feels good—until the wallet screams and credit payments loom.

A few bystanders had seen the stockings appear, but dismissed it as street magic. Curious glances, nothing more.

Tell them the truth? They’d call him crazy and bolt. Science ran deep in this world; belief didn’t shift easily.

He remembered Bao Hua Village—denying the ghost he’d seen, until reality slapped him hard.

“Burning offerings feels better,” Ghost Emperor murmured, tracing the fabric. “Lets me truly feel the texture. More comfortable.”

“Burning…?”

“Don’t humans burn things for us?”

“So burned items… really reach you?”

“Yes.”

Her look screamed: *Is this not basic common knowledge?*

Zhong Cheng wanted to argue—but damn. It *was* common knowledge. No rebuttal.

Turns out, not all old superstitions were lies. Burned offerings *did* reach spirits.

No scientific equation explained it. But even with light bulbs lighting the world… mysteries remained.

His curiosity flared—then wisely retreated. Some puzzles weren’t worth the brain cells.

What mattered? Admiring Lord Ghost Emperor’s black-stockinged legs.

“Later,” Ghost Emperor commanded, “buy stockings. Burn them for me.”

*Sigh.* More spending.

At home, he’d scour a local secondhand app for quality black stockings—affordable but respectable.

Cheap no-name brands? Unthinkable. An insult to such divine legs.

Like dressing your prized figurine or game waifu—you honor beauty.

Ghost Emperor’s legs deserved reverence. Brand-name only.

Maybe thigh-highs with garters, fishnet styles, varied colors…

But Zhong Cheng preferred classics. Flashy designs fade fast.

Different deniers: deep black allure, subtle nude tones, ultra-thin transparency—showcasing that artful blend of shadow and skin.

“By the way, my lady,” Zhong Cheng asked casually, “what’s your bust size? And underwear size?”

Ghost Emperor narrowed her eyes. “Why do you need to know *that*?”