“Mm uh mm uh.”

The young merman’s hands were about to lose their grip on the railing; if he let go, he would fall into the snow wolf’s jaws and be torn to pieces alive. But if he didn’t let go, he would be pierced through the skull by three arrows at any moment.

The old eunuch’s eyes grew more excited with the sight of blood, his head raised.

All the guards watched the spectacle with excitement as well—after all, to them, the merfolk were nothing but playthings.

The captured young merman was as pale as paper, soulless, watching his companion’s fate.

The arrow was nocked, the situation at a breaking point. At the last moment—

“Stop!”

Alice Carter gritted his teeth, unable to hold back any longer.

His soul passed over the blood-soaked floor of the Star-Picking Hall, his chest burning with rage, his gaze filled with a hatred that wished to grind William Clark to dust. He lunged forward, grabbing directly for William Clark’s hand on the bow.

Alice Carter was so furious he was nearly delirious, but this time, his hand did not pass through William Clark’s body—he grabbed a wrist that was cold to the touch.

“You—!”

As Alice Carter jerked his head up in shock, William Clark was already smiling.

The next second, Alice Carter felt the world spin; something was pulling him forward. The instant his soul entered the body, it was like crashing alive onto the ground.

Pain flooded his limbs and bones, tearing at his soul, shadowing him like a specter, as if it had haunted this body for years.

It hurt too much.

The pain made Alice Carter’s arm go limp, and the bow and arrow fell straight to the ground.

His expression twisted, he half-knelt.

“Y-Your Majesty?!” The old eunuch forgot about the spectacle, crying out in panic.

The crowd surged, exclamations filling his ears, but it was all a chaotic blur.

Alice Carter’s eyes were bloodshot from pain, and kneeling on the ground, he could only see a corner of a drifting, snowy-white robe.

It was William Clark, standing nearby in soul form, a faint smile on his lips, looking down at him.

“Your Majesty—Your Majesty—”

Alice Carter’s eyes were about to split, his brain felt like it would explode, but he still knew what he wanted. He shouted harshly, “Save him!”

“W-What?”

The eunuch was so frightened he nearly wet himself.

Alice Carter reached out, pointing with a trembling hand at the merman above the iron cage, his voice shaking: “Save him, let them all go, then get out! All of you, get out!”

William Clark had long held great authority in Chu; with his command, the eunuch rushed to call people to rescue the young merman.

In an instant, the palace was thrown into chaos.

There were the snow wolves’ angry howls, the merfolk’s cries, the eunuch’s shrill orders, and the guards’ frantic footsteps.

It hurt so much, unbearably so. So this was what William Clark’s body had always been like.

Terminally ill.

Truly, terminally fucking ill.

Sweat ran into his eyes—he didn’t know if he was crying from the pain.

Alice Carter knelt on the ground, both hands braced in a pool of blood.

Everything around him was a mess; he couldn’t hear anything clearly.

A cold wind, carrying a hint of rain, swept along the ground. The bronze bell at the eaves kept ringing, ding-ling-ling, ding-ling-ling.

At the same time, Alice Carter heard William Clark’s low laughter.

Cold and distant, eerie and mad.

Boom! Spring thunder crashed outside the Star-Picking Hall!

The thunder that had lain in ambush, hidden deep in the dark clouds, finally struck.

Muffled, yet loud.

All things awakened from winter slumber, insects emerged from the earth.

Rain poured down over the world, as if to wash away all the stifling heat and restlessness.

Alice Carter curled up in pain.

Through his blurred vision, he seemed to see the pagoda glowing red, illuminating the ten-mile bamboo forest like a demonic realm.

5. Star-Picking Tower (Five)

In the latter half of the night, the rain outside grew heavier and heavier, pattering down into the ten-mile bamboo forest, drumming on the rustling, swaying leaves.

The bronze bell at the eaves of the Star-Picking Tower rang incessantly.

Soon, he was the only one left in the palace.

Alice Carter finally recovered from the agony that felt like his meridians were burning and his bones being reforged. His face was as pale as paper, kneeling in the center of the hall, his snowy-white robe soaked in blood, black hair a tangled mess plastered to his face, utterly wretched.

William Clark sat quietly to the side, watching him, an ambiguous smile on his lips. “I’ve never seen myself look so pathetic before.”

Alice Carter only wanted to kill him, his eyes bloodshot, every word squeezed out through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse: “William Clark, are you insane, forcing me to possess your body.”

William Clark lowered his gaze. “Wasn’t it your own choice?”

Alice Carter glared at him fiercely.

William Clark looked back, his gaze piercing through the false shell, staring straight at his soul. The darkness in his eyes could not hide their sharpness and chill—like blades, able to carve wounds into the spirit inch by inch.

William Clark said carelessly, “I didn’t blame you for taking over my body. Why are you turning it around on me?”

He leaned in, lowering his voice with a soft laugh: “Alice Carter, you used me to fulfill your own kindness and sense of justice. How can you blame me?”

Alice Carter turned his head away, not wanting to deal with this lunatic anymore. “Get lost!”

He grunted, clutching his chest, staggering to his feet, shaking with rage. “Fine, I get it now. You’re a disaster alive. If you want to invite a demon into your body so badly, fine, I’ll show you what happens when you’re possessed by a ghost.”

Damn it!

He was going to jump off the tower!

He was going to make this pervert die!