As soon as Fiona Holloway opened her eyes, she realized she was lying inside a coffin.
Right next to her, there was a lifeless young man, red silk ribbons binding them together.
“A ghost marriage?”
She looked up and saw a crowd peering into the coffin above her, packed in tight and murmuring among themselves.
“Wow, what a lucky girl! Marrying the village head’s college-educated son? She’s set for life!”
“Tch, if only my girl hadn’t been so picky—this marriage wouldn't have landed on some outsider.”
Yep. A ghost marriage, for real.
Fiona’s face stayed calm, but her mind was running wild. What the hell happened?
Wasn't she going through her tenth reincarnation trial?
Suddenly, memories of this body's past life slammed into her like a tidal wave.
She used to be a powerful sorceress from ancient times, who sacrificed herself to prevent a catastrophe. Before dying, she cast a spell that sent half of her soul into the reincarnation cycle, promising that after ten lifetimes, her fragmented soul would return to her.
Now, in this life—which happened to be the tenth—her soul had finally fused back together. Everything she had lost—her powers, her clarity—were back in place!
But man, this life sure hadn’t been kind.
Right after birth, she was switched at the hospital by mistake. Her adoptive parents died in an accident when she was just a baby.
Later, she ended up in a Taoist temple, but no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't get the hang of spiritual arts—probably because her soul was still incomplete back then.
A year ago, her master, knowing his end was near, did some divination and figured out her real family were actually the mega-rich Carmichaels in Luocheng.
He sent her back to them, clueless that he was basically tossing her into a pit of wolves.
Even though she's their biological daughter, the Carmel family acted like she didn’t even exist—putting all their affection on the adopted daughter, Vanessa Carmichael.
In that place, she couldn’t even compare to Vanessa’s pet dog. She was treated worse than a speck of dust.
The reason she ended up stuck in this ghost wedding situation? All thanks to her fifth brother Lucas Carmichael, who forgot he promised to pick her up from school and instead went to fetch that Vanessa from her dance class.
That’s when the traffickers grabbed her.
Even though this body had slow reactions, her brain still worked fine.
She could tell these men were bad news and kept searching for a chance to escape.
Seeing other girls trapped too, she tried to come up with a way to save everyone. What she didn’t expect was to get caught in the act.
The beating they gave her ended up killing her.
And if that wasn’t messed up enough, those traffickers sold her off to be married to the recently deceased son of the village chief—saying she could be his wife in the afterlife.
At this moment, the villagers were busy preparing to bury her and the dead guy together.
As Fiona was lost in her thoughts, a sudden shout from above the coffin snapped her back.
“Hey, Victor, this girl you brought—looks like she’s not completely dead yet!”
“No way!” shouted the man called Victor Mason. “I watched her breathe her last myself. Checked twice before I brought her here!”
Fiona slowly opened her eyes. Her pitch-black pupils flicked around, and when she looked up, she locked gazes with Victor, who was leaning in to check.
Victor recoiled in shock when he met her cold, sharp eyes. "Holy—she’s alive?!"
Just a minute ago, she’d had no breath. So how was she moving now?
She stared right through him, face blank, as she slowly sat up from the coffin.
She wouldn’t forget that guy.
He was the one who tricked her, beat her to death, and handed her over like cargo.Seeing someone “dead” suddenly sit up, even Victor Mason, stubborn as he was, couldn’t help but get chills from Fiona Holloway’s gaze. He snapped, voice fierce, “What’re you staring at? Keep looking, and I’ll gouge your eyes out!”
Fiona didn’t reply. Her eyes stayed locked on the space behind Victor.
A throng of ghostly women, all brutally murdered, shrieked and clawed at him. But every time they got close, the golden aura clinging to him flared and flung them back. They couldn’t touch him.
A woman standing nearby noticed Fiona’s fixed gaze and felt her scalp prickle. But with the burial time almost upon them, she forced herself to speak, “Victor... she’s still breathing. What should we do now?”
“What else? Finish her off,” Victor spat, striding towards the coffin.
Just then, Fiona broke her silence. “Wanna get revenge?”
The ghosts froze. As one, they turned toward the girl in the coffin.
One of the worst-looking ones drifted forward—flesh shredded, an eyeball dangling grotesquely, her stomach torn open like it had been chewed by monsters. She hovered inches from Fiona’s face, that slack eyeball nearly brushing her.
“You... you can really see us?” her voice was as ragged as her body.
Fiona gave a short nod. “I can help you get justice. You in?”
“Hell yes!” the ghost snarled, tears of blood leaking down her cheeks. She glared at Victor. “But he’s got some charm from a Taoist. We can’t lay a finger on him.”
“You’re stuck in a coffin. What could you possibly do for us?”
“I’ve got my own tricks,” Fiona said calmly.
Victor had reached her by now and lunged, ready to choke her. “Blame your bad luck if you want. You should’ve known better than to get in our way.”
Just before he grabbed her, Fiona lifted a hand and gently tapped him.
White frost surged through Victor’s limbs, making him tremble uncontrollably.
“It’s done,” Fiona said, cool as ever.
An icy wind whipped through the hall, scattering funeral paper everywhere.
A woman hiding in the corner happened to glance at Victor and gasped in horror, clutching her mouth with trembling hands. “Gh—ghost…” she whispered in terror.
Victor shivered. Hearing her, he turned around sharply. “Don’t talk nonsense! It’s broad daylight. Where would a ghost—”
Before he could finish, he was face-to-face with bleeding, hollow eye sockets. Blood was dripping steadily onto the floor.
One ghost clung to his shoulder, mouth split into a terrifying grin. The torn lips stretched almost to her ears. “Big brother, come play with us~”
Victor screamed like he was being skinned alive. “HELP! SOMEONE HELP!”
He tried to flee, but pale hands shot up from the ground and grabbed his ankle, slamming him down.
The ghost girls laughed as they swarmed over him, ripping at his soul. “Don’t run, big brother. Stay and play with us a little longer.”
The woman nearby saw Victor being dragged down by the ghost pack, screamed, then bolted, wetting herself in terror and leaving a trail behind her.
Fiona didn’t give the flailing Victor a second glance. She rose from the coffin and strode to the hall’s center, fingers moving quickly as she calculated.
Her eyes locked onto the southeast—her path to freedom.
She walked toward the front door, stepping past the ghosts still tormenting Victor.
As she passed, she said quietly, “Don’t let any of his accomplices off the hook. Once you’re done, come find me.”
One ghost had strung up Victor’s intestines like puppet strings. She grinned sweetly and sang out, “Yes, ma’am~ Anything for our savior~”Because the mourning hall was in such a remote corner, the mess that had just happened hadn’t caught anyone’s attention yet. Fiona Holloway used a little divination as she moved forward, dodging every potential threat, and slipped out of the mountain village with ease.
...
Night had finally set in.
By a stretch of asphalt road dozens of kilometers from Daohuacun, a black sedan sat quietly on the shoulder.
A burly guy in a sleeveless work vest and cargo pants was waving his phone in the air, sounding grumpy.
"Bro, I’m telling you, my arm’s about to fall off and the signal still hasn’t moved past half a bar."
"And look at the sky—pitch black already. Are we really crashing here in the middle of nowhere tonight?"
Inside the car sat a man whose presence screamed class. Dressed in a light grey suit, his features were sharp, pale skin almost glowing under the fading light, and every movement of his had a kind of quiet grace.
Edwin Prescott rested his slim fingers on the laptop keyboard, his lashes casting a soft shadow over his lowered eyes. After a soft cough, he answered calmly, "Wayne will notice we’re off the grid. He’ll send someone."
Hearing the cough, Ethan Barker instantly got nervous. "You okay, Boss? Feeling sick again?"
He knew Edwin had always had a fragile constitution, falling ill during seasonal shifts was nothing new. Now, stranded in this dark, chilly place, Ethan couldn’t help panicking—what if Edwin suddenly collapsed?
"I’m fine," Edwin replied, giving a slight shake of his head.
But just as Ethan wanted to keep pestering him, something caught the corner of his eye.
"Boss! Someone’s coming!" Ethan called out, half shocked, half excited.
Edwin paused his typing.
Ethan lit up and went running toward the figure, calling out, "Maybe they’ve got a phone with signal!"
But when he got a better look at the person approaching, his expression froze solid.
"Sh*t! Boss! A ghost!"
The figure wore what looked like an ancient ceremonial red wedding dress, face ghostly pale, and moved without a sound.
Straight-up looked like something from a horror movie.
Ethan turned tail on the spot and basically threw himself back into the car, tripping over his own feet.
Edwin, however, didn’t even flinch. His eyes calmly landed on the "ghost" that was slowly making its way toward them.
Fiona Holloway stopped after a three-hour walk, her dark gaze locking onto the vehicle.
Looming around it were vague shadows, oozing malevolent energy.
The man inside the car was glowing faintly—imperial purple mixed with streaks of golden light—but above his head swirled an ominous black mist.
Fiona squinted, trying to make out the details more clearly.
In her experience, people surrounded by purple light were usually born under extraordinary fates—like kings.
But this one shone with the gold of virtue as well.
She quickly concluded: this was someone worth making a connection with.
Also? Probably her key to survival right now.
One thing though—this guy didn’t have long to live.
After a moment’s thought, Fiona walked right up to the sedan.
Seeing her draw near, Ethan looked like he might pass out. He tried to shield Edwin with his body, hitting the car door with a thud while squeezing his eyes shut and yelling, "S-stop! Don’t come any closer!"
Fiona didn’t even spare him a glance.
She stopped next to the window and stared straight at Edwin through the glass before speaking in a rasped voice.
"Your brow’s dark, your head’s wrapped in death energy… You’ve got days, at best."
"If you want to live, I’m your only shot."
