Chapter 29: Keeping One’s Word!

Lan Xiaoman trembled all over upon seeing Ling Wanlou. Even as a soul, she was still terrified of the man who had killed her.

Ling Qiu gently put his arm around her. "Xiaoman, don't be afraid," he said softly. Then, turning to Ling Wanlou, he added, "Ling Wanlou, you forced Xiaoman to swallow sulfuric acid. I will make you pay for that, down to the last detail."

At this moment, Ling Wanlou was utterly consumed by fear. He couldn't comprehend what kind of being stood before him. This man was nothing like the Ling Qiu he knew—he seemed more like a grim reaper, an avenging spirit that sent chills through his very soul.

"It's a pity there isn't any sulfuric acid here," Ling Qiu said, picking up a golf club. "But I suppose I can improvise."

As he spoke, his palm seemed to radiate intense heat. The golf club began to melt, dripping molten metal.

Ling Qiu kicked Ling Wanlou to the floor, forced his mouth open with his foot, and let a single drop of the molten metal fall inside.

Ling Wanlou's scream was more harrowing than the slaughter of a pig. With just a single drop, he wailed in agony.

But then, Lan Xiaoman rushed forward and clung to Ling Qiu, sobbing, "Brother... please... don't do this..."

Ling Qiu paused. "Xiaoman, don't you hate him?"

"I do! I hate him so much!" Lan Xiaoman's eyes were red with grief and fury. In the prime of her youth, she had died at this man's hands for no reason. Her heart brimmed with endless sorrow and resentment.

Yet, she was too kind-hearted.

Ling Qiu hesitated; the gentler Xiaoman was, the more he wanted to utterly destroy Ling Wanlou.

"Very well, I'll respect your choice," he said at last.

He tossed aside the golf club and squatted next to Ling Wanlou, grabbing him by the hair. "You're lucky. I won't kill you. But you won't escape punishment."

With that, Ling Qiu pressed the hand bearing the Yanluo Ring firmly against Ling Wanlou's skull.

"Your son's soul—I shattered and reformed it. But your sins are far deeper than Ling Baichuan's. So I will break your soul into even smaller pieces!"

A series of strange, sizzling noises filled the air. Ling Wanlou's body convulsed violently. He felt as though his soul were being shredded, not by scissors, but by a blender—pulverized into nothingness. It was as if he were being torn into thousands of tiny fragments. The pain was a thousand times worse than swallowing molten metal.

In a matter of moments, it was over.

Ling Wanlou abruptly stopped convulsing. He lay on the floor, his head pressed against the ground, spinning in circles. Suddenly, he slapped his own face with a resounding crack, then raised his leg and smashed his head with it. Groggily, he stood, only to stomp on his own hand.

Throughout, he passed gas and urinated uncontrollably, a sight both absurd and grotesque—like a madman with severe self-harming tendencies.

Ling Qiu watched with satisfaction. Ling Wanlou's soul had been shattered to dust, scattered chaotically throughout his body. Perhaps the part that once controlled his eyes now resided in his backside; perhaps his hearing was now lodged in his left testicle.

He knew all too well how agonizing it would be to live out a life in this state. In hindsight, simply killing Ling Wanlou would have been a mercy.

With everything finished, Ling Qiu removed the jade ring from Ling Wanlou's thumb—a family heirloom passed down through the Ling clan for centuries, now a symbol of the family head's authority. Ling Qiu had a purpose for taking it.

He narrowed his eyes and glanced toward Ling Baichuan. Ling Baichuan's face was expressionless, but his groin twitched uncontrollably.

Ah, he'd almost forgotten—he'd reversed this one's soul earlier. Now all his expressions were hidden in his trousers. It must be quite a spectacle.

With a cold laugh, Ling Qiu stepped onto the windowsill and declared, "When Grandfather died, my fate with the Ling family ended. Once I deliver this jade ring to the right person, I, Ling Qiu, will have nothing more to do with the Ling family!"

He came and went like a shadow. In a flash, he left with Lan Xiaoman.

The next instant, the bodyguards, who had all been standing in a daze, suddenly snapped out of it. Startled, they looked around. "What just happened? Why does it feel like I zoned out?"

Looking down, they saw Ling Wanlou banging his head repeatedly on the floor.

"Mr. Ling?! What are you doing?!"

Ling Wanlou kept farting, grinding his teeth, and wetting himself—expressing rage, hatred, fear, and every emotion in a frenzy of madness.

But with his soul in tatters, the more he tried to express himself, the more erratic and ridiculous his body became.

"Mr. Ling! Are you all right?"

"Goodness, Mr. Ling, why are you biting your belt?"

"Sir, what kind of teeth do you have? You've chewed right through your zipper!"

"Mr. Ling, I had no idea you went commando..."

"Sir, that's not something you should bite! Really, you shouldn't!"

"Mr. Ling! Oh... excuse us, sir... we'll just..."

"Let's go, let's go! Can't you see Mr. Ling is enjoying himself?"

The study door slammed shut. All the bodyguards, goosebumps rising, hurried away as if fleeing a ghost.

...

The next day.

Jiang'an City Financial Times.

Headline news.

"Jiang'an City Branch Leader of Ling Group, Ling Wanlou, Suffers Severe Mental Disorder, Hospitalized for Mandatory Treatment."

Ling Qiu dropped the newspaper on the coffee table with a satisfied smile. "Now that's more like it."

At that moment, a wisp of soul emerged from the Yanluo Ring. Lan Xiaoman appeared beside Ling Qiu, sweet and lovely, snuggling up to his arm in silence, tilting her head as she read the newspaper with him.

"Xiaoman, I told you—your soul is still weak. Try not to come out during the day," Ling Qiu reminded her.

"But..." Lan Xiaoman rubbed her head against his shoulder. "Brother... it's so dark in the ring... I'm so bored..."

Ling Qiu smiled. Her closeness to him wasn't surprising. As a soul, emotions were heightened, unrestrained by a physical body. If Lan Xiaoman was gentle and affectionate in life, she would become even more so in this state. If she saw anyone as her dearest, she would cling to them like an adoring kitten.

"Xiaoman, let me take you to see your sister. With me there, she can see you," Ling Qiu offered.

"No!" she quickly shook her head.

"Why not?"

"I... I..." Lan Xiaoman looked a little sad. "I didn't know before, but now I understand... My sister is an assassin. All these years, she supported my education and living expenses—now I realize it was all from her work as a killer. She must be heartbroken after my death, but at least she's freed from the burden of me. Once she gets past her grief, she can finally pursue her own life. I held her back for the first half of her life, and now that we're separated by life and death, I shouldn't add to her troubles..."

A sparkling tear slid down her cheek.

Ling Qiu took a deep breath. This girl was truly thoughtful—a pitiful pair of sisters. If he ever got the chance, he would seek out Long Yuelan and look after her a bit, hoping she could live well.

"Let's not talk about that, brother. Why aren't you going to school today?" Lan Xiaoman asked, wiping her tears.

"I'm waiting for a phone call," Ling Qiu replied.

"A call?"

Just then—

The phone rang.

Ling Qiu picked it up and answered calmly, "Hello, Auntie. It's been a long time."

"...Ling Qiu? Why are you still contacting me? Didn't I tell you... never to associate with the Ling family again, or Ling Wanlou would never spare you! Even though we're not related by blood..."

Before the woman could finish, Ling Qiu took out the jade ring—a symbol of the Ling family's head—studied it with narrowed eyes, and smiled. "I want to give you a gift—one I know you'll be very interested in."