LWGP - Chapter 217

Chapter 217: Destiny

The visitors from the central government were mostly older, holding high positions and significant power. However, their delegation specifically included two mature and steady women. It was unclear if this was a considerate gesture toward Wang Jiu's gender for the sake of communication, or simply to avoid any potential offense that might arise from a purely masculine way of thinking.

When it came to the art of negotiation and the technique of communication, the officials had always been masters of their craft. Their group included elders, middle-aged backbones of the government, and people specialized in communication.

What they discussed, outsiders had no way of knowing. In any case, Lao Wang was certainly the first to leave and the first to emerge. She seemed to be wearing slippers, her footsteps crisp and casual as she passed the corner and entered the covered corridor.

If sound were music, it danced with the clear water, her footsteps light and slow, a quiet thing to hear.

If color were a painting, the corridor was deep and winding, the hanging curtains dyed a verdant green, a slow thing to see.

The hem of her skirt trailed slightly, her slippers dragging and pausing on the ground. Wang Jiu walked to the end of the corridor, a step away from the stairs. Separated by the damp steps, she seemed reserved and arrogant, unwilling to touch the rainwater below as she glanced outside through the drizzling curtain of rain.

Oh boy. Many people recalled the words of Wang Shu, the professional rainbow-fart specialist who had just been running his mouth.

When she wasn't speaking or fighting, his master, fresh from a bath, was still very noble and dignified?

They couldn't see the dignified part, but she truly resembled a cold, sharp hook.

She was visibly sharp, yet alluring enough to make one's heart blind.

For a moment, no one dared to speak.

Yan Hui took a few steps forward on his own initiative but stopped at the bottom of the stairs. He didn't speak, just waited for her command.

"The comrades from above have some questions for you, but they don't know you well, so they asked me to relay them."

Wang Jiu's tone was remarkably calm as she said this. Wang Shu had already scurried up, produced a comfortable rattan chair, and placed it for her with fawning eagerness.

Wang Jiu didn't refuse his sycophancy and sat down. Yan Hui, in turn, looked toward the central government officials who were walking out, Liu Wuren among them.

Chen Xiaohu and Xie Lu were both a little nervous, because the gentler, even tender, Wang Jiu's attitude was, the more terrifying she became.

However, the personnel from the central government remained composed. What surprised them was that Yan Hui, one of the most ferocious Demon Kings according to their intelligence, truly obeyed Wang Jiu. He asked in a hoarse voice, "What do you want to ask?"

What did they want to ask?

To ask about his true origins, what he had done all these years, how he went from being a great Demon King to Wang Jiu's slave, or how he went from being Wang Jiu's slave to a great Demon King?

A white-haired old man pushed up his reading glasses and said peacefully, "Nothing much. We're just curious about your experiences over the years. But compared to the future, some parts of the past can be left unmentioned."

The implication was obvious: they weren't here to settle old scores, but to discuss future cooperation.

Yan Hui didn't say much, just grunted in acknowledgment and then replied, "My affairs are for her to decide."

It was clear now. The people from the central government had no intention of beating around the bush; they had likely already come to an understanding with Wang Jiu.

They hadn't touched on sensitive topics, hadn't tried to cleverly probe her past, and hadn't presumptuously judged anything about her.

They had come to establish a relationship with her, as if they were negotiating a business deal.

"Very well, we will communicate well with the Lord of Gobi in the future… Ah Lu."

The leading old man suddenly raised his hand and called out in a very familiar and natural manner, beckoning Xie Lu over. He said with a broad smile, "Thank you, Lord of Gobi, for taking care of our family's Ah Lu."

Huh, an elder from the Xie family?

Not far away, Xie Jiang rolled his eyes.

Xie Lu's scalp tingled. He walked over and greeted the man as "Third Grand Uncle," about to say something.

"If I said he's the one who takes care of me more, would you think I'm a very bad woman, stirring up trouble?"

To be honest, it did have that kind of vibe.

Xie Lu was helpless. "Lord…"

The Third Grand Uncle smiled, reached out, and covered Xie Lu's mouth, preventing any possibility of him suggesting a return to the military department to avoid suspicion. He said with a grin, "Young people should have a bit of vitality, they can't just stick to conventions. Ah Lu is doing just fine here with you, Lord of Gobi."

To be fair, Lao Wang's social reputation was infamous. Third Grand Uncle, you're basically a human trafficker.

Watching Xie Lu, who was always having his mouth covered, everyone felt a strange sense of pity for him.

His superior sold him out, his grand-uncle was selling him out, would his own father sell him out next time he appeared?

"Maybe Xie Jiang is the only one in the family who wouldn't sell him," Wang Shu bitched in the small group chat. A stream of people below typed '1'.

However, Xie Lu was clearly just a "commodity." Wang Jiu glanced at him, then suddenly raised her hand.

Yan Hui froze, hesitated for a moment, but still walked forward, bent down, and offered his head to Wang Jiu.

Wang Jiu reached out. Her fingers, long and white as snow, were like snow-tempered spring onions landing on filth.

The human-skin mask was already exceedingly ugly. When her five fingers landed on it, the most beautiful and the ugliest things formed a stark, impactful contrast.

But, they also seemed to be one and the same.

Wang Jiu expressionlessly tore it off.

Yan Hui was in extreme pain. He couldn't help but kneel on the ground, his hands grasping at the air, his throat contracting violently. But he suppressed the sounds of agony in his throat; he didn't scream, he endured.

The power within him surged, his HP roiled, and a wave of dark witch qi, tangled with ferocious bloody threads, seeped out from every inch of his skin.

The process was too cruel, like being flayed all over again. The crowd was shocked, but no one intervened.

During this process, Lin Guiwan and the others noticed that Wang Jiu and Yan Hui were looking at each other.

Their eyes met. What were they thinking?

A cramped basement, a cold and slick experiment table, a stool, a flaying knife, a man, a boy, a girl…

Shrill wails, if not from that girl, then from another.

Yan Hui seemed to be in even greater pain. He let out a mournful roar, wanting to lower his head to avoid her tearing, but Wang Jiu's other hand clamped onto his throat, and she continued without the slightest hesitation.

Finally, the bloody human-skin mask was successfully torn from his face, revealing his own bloody visage.

At first glance, it was hard to make out his features, but he seemed quite handsome.

Wang Jiu looked down at the dripping, bloody mask in her hand. It was impossible to know what she was thinking in that moment, but her gaze soon fell upon Yan Hui.

"Such a filthy thing. You've worn it for so long you can't bear to part with it?"

Yan Hui lowered his head, his lips moved slightly. "I'm… I'm sorry."

Only the two of them knew what happened back then. As for what this apology was for…

Was it because he had just been reluctant to part with the power of the human-skin mask, or was it for something else?

Wang Jiu's gaze shifted away from him. "To me, it makes no difference who held the knife," she said faintly. "But you—those cowards didn't dare to go first, letting you suffer for nothing. Their hands were too unsteady, implicating your sister. That's your responsibility."

She was matter-of-fact, neither needing comfort from others nor offering it.

This revealed some information, and many people pondered it silently.

So, back then, Yan Hui was the boy who was also trapped in the basement. His sister was there too, and the people from the Black Witch Organization forced him to flay the skin from Wang Jiu's back by threatening his sister's life?

After that, Wang Jiu didn't mention it again, simply handing the human-skin mask to the Third Grand Uncle.

"Here, you're interested in this, right? You could have just asked directly, no need to be so polite. Do I really look that terrifying?"

This time, the central government's apprehension toward her had clearly risen by several levels.

It was hard to say whether this was a good or a bad thing.

Just as her attitude was so gentle, her face, as fair as snow and smooth as jade, held a simple smile, yet her eyes rippled, misty and captivating.

But the mask in her hand was utterly terrifying.

Beautiful mercy, perhaps hypocrisy.

Cruel heartlessness, perhaps truth.

In fact, they could coexist.

For a moment, the visitors from the central government couldn't hide their expressions. Only Liu Wuren and the Third Grand Uncle reacted the fastest, about to reach out and take it.

"A friendly reminder, this is the first-generation primordial sacrificial totem peeled from my own body. It has an adhesive property. Once it touches flesh and blood, it becomes parasitic… you might very well be hypnotized into my slave."

Peeled from her, first generation, parasitic?

These were keywords, sure to be on the test.

The old and middle-aged men were startled and suddenly saw the mischievous glint in Wang Jiu's eyes. But seamlessly, a slender, soft, pale hand intercepted it.

Wang Jiu looked up, her smile not yet faded. "Miss Wanwan isn't afraid?"

The master and disciple were worlds apart, yet they shared a knack for calling people by nicknames with no sense of distance, rattling them off one after another.

Shen Wan, however, asked her back, "Yours?"

True or false, it was hard for outsiders to judge by words alone, but Shen Wan had seen a memory and could never forget Wang Jiu's taboo.

She was too curious, so she asked.

For a great prophet, to have something she couldn't prophesize but was intensely curious about was truly a form of torture.

And this was a question that Wang Shu and the others would probably never dare to ask in their lifetimes.

Under everyone's watchful eyes, Wang Jiu looked at her, seemingly unconcerned. "Yes, but it's very ugly now. As expected, even the most tender and fresh skin can't withstand time."

She admitted it, which was tantamount to tacitly confirming what she had endured back then.

First generation. Were there other generations after that?

For example… four generations.

Four Demon Kings, four totem masks, and these four skins had been part of her calculations from the very beginning.

Using something that came from her own body, no wonder they were so thoroughly outmaneuvered by her.

But how old was she back then?

How much pain, despair, devastation, and helplessness must a little girl have felt to choose to hypnotize others into flaying her own skin as a way to turn the tables?

The world has a myriad of splendors; there is the joy of our harmonious lives amidst fading lights, but there are also others who walk through hell in the shadows.

For some reason, Shen Wan lowered her eyes and softened her voice. "Then there's no need to be afraid."

The cool and professional diplomat was extremely cautious with every word. What she said was bound to be true.

It sounded as if she believed Wang Jiu wouldn't harm people.

Wang Jiu was stunned, then tilted her head and covered her brow with her hand as she laughed. The laugh was exceedingly charming, yet it made Shen Wan feel incredibly uncomfortable.

What's with this woman.

"There's no need to be afraid. This kind of demonic trick can only entice those who can't control their desires."

This sentence was undoubtedly a compliment. Shen Wan's fine brows furrowed slightly, but she had a bad feeling.

"I see you control yourself quite well."

As expected, this woman was a demon.

Shen Wan didn't believe for a second that the other woman couldn't see how much that bed scene prophecy had unsettled her, yet she still deliberately mocked her.

So passive-aggressive.

It was strange, really. They were all adults. Although she herself lacked such experience, she was not without worldly knowledge. She didn't know why she was so bothered by that one prophecy.

Perhaps it was because the person involved was too good-looking?

With a complex heart, Shen Wan put on her official diplomatic smile, polite yet elegant, and handed the mask to the men from the central government. The latter placed it in a special container.

But when they saw Shen Wan's palm, one of them suddenly exclaimed in alarm, "Consul Shen."

Shen Wan subconsciously looked down and saw the blood on her palm begin to flow, forming a small snake that coiled around her hand. She was startled and instinctively alarmed, but then she saw the little snake slither off and leap into Wang Jiu's hand.

Wang Jiu formed a hand seal, her voice thin and cold, devoid of the warmth and gentleness from moments before. "They say it in the movies, you know. Don't casually trust a beautiful woman. It's very dangerous."

"By the way, I count as beautiful, right?"

As she said this, her exquisitely beautiful face wore a smile. The little snake had already coiled its body, transforming into a ferocious blood python totem, which she pressed onto Yan Hui's forehead.

"Release."

The shackles within Yan Hui's body were released, and the torturous pain finally subsided. The light rain eventually washed the blood from his face. He looked up, and the handsome face he revealed left everyone stunned.

"Holy shit, how is it you!" Wang Shu couldn't control his voice.

Wen Juanzhi shot to his feet.

Everyone was thoroughly shocked.

Yan Hui's face… was identical to someone else's.

But their temperaments were worlds apart.

One was effeminate and handsome, the other was world-weary and handsome.

In the small group chat, Dao Dao was freaking out: "That big star's manager? The sissy one? Am I blind?"

Bai Bai: "You're not blind. I now understand why she chose Wen Juanzhi."

Because she needed a cover for Yan Hui's identity, a channel for the two of them to connect.

The appointments were with Wen Juanzhi, but the person she actually met with was Yan Hui.

If not for the apocalypse, the all-pervasive modern technology of the government's investigations would have eventually captured some data—that the movement trajectories of the Demon King, Wang Jiu, and the secret members of the Black Witch Organization who were assassinated did not overlap, but had indirect intersections.

Xie Lu even thought of Wang Jiu's overseas funds.

That's right. What could be more convenient for money laundering than the entertainment industry? With a cash cow like Wen Juanzhi who raked in money daily, his funds served as the shell. The company and foundations managed by the effeminate manager were all outer shells; the inner shell was the flow of Wang Jiu's dark funds.

Everyone had an epiphany. Wen Juanzhi understood as well, but he ultimately restrained himself and sat back down, his expression even more melancholic.

He knew she was dangerous. See, she was indeed venomous.

Wang Jiu couldn't be bothered with their reactions. She had a lot to do. After "gently" rapping the knuckles of the central government officials, she had to tackle things one by one. She wiped her hands and stood up, seeming to be about to do something.

Everyone sensed that she had been preparing to make a big move, but they didn't know what her next step was.

However…

"Wang Jiu!"

A sudden, aged shout came, hurried and anxious.

It was accompanied by a teleportation array.

Seeing this teleportation array, someone couldn't help but look at Chen Xiaohu.

Compared to this super expert, second only to Wang Jiu, this guy's teleportation array seemed a bit low-class. By the time he arrived, the dragon had already been slain. His teleportation had been for nothing.

Chen Xiaohu was thick-skinned and didn't notice the baptism of gazes from the crowd. He was just surprised to see the newcomer. "Old man Song, why did you come yourself? Afraid I couldn't handle it? You…"

Actually, it was handled before I even had to do anything.

Chen Xiaohu was shameless enough to admit this and was about to turn it around and hold Song Yuanqiao responsible. But after the old man teleported in, he shoved Chen Xiaohu, who was blocking his way, aside and said directly to Wang Jiu, "Wang Jiu, we need to talk."

Song Yuanqiao had come with the psychologist Qian Cheng. The two not-so-young gentlemen were rushing in, full of excitement. Anyone who didn't know better would think they were here to cause trouble for Wang Jiu.

Wang Jiu was somewhat surprised by their arrival, but after a moment's thought, she understood. The sacrifice, right?

"What's this? In such a hurry, rushing to a funeral?"

Wang Jiu had never had a good temper with these two. Don't ask why. The answer was: the old lady is mine, not yours.

After all this time, the little brat was still so nasty.

Qian Cheng endured it smoothly; he hadn't been able to win an argument or a fight with her eight hundred years ago.

Song Yuanqiao, who normally had more patience, retorted today, "If you weren't being foolish, I wouldn't have to rush to a funeral. It's the apocalypse; if you kick the bucket, we'll even save on the funeral home."

The refined politician, known for never getting angry and preferring action over words, had a pretty sharp tongue when he was riled up.

Being confronted like this, others thought Wang Jiu would get angry, but she didn't. She had already stood up, smoothed the slight wrinkles in her skirt, and said flatly, "What, seeking justice for your daughter with a stream-of-consciousness curse attack? Or is it for your Song family's precious treasure, Song Yin?"

Song Yuanqiao's face paled slightly, and Qian Cheng's body trembled. Hitting a snake at its weak spot—so vicious.

Lao Wang really didn't play by the rules of martial virtue.

"Uh, Lao Song, let's talk things over calmly."

"Uncle Song, let's sit down and chat."

"Have you eaten? It's getting dark, let's have dinner first."

The people from the central government, Xie Lu, and the great lord of Bashu, Liu Wuren, were all afraid that Song Yuanqiao and Wang Jiu would start a war right here.

Grand Uncle Xie's head was throbbing. This Lao Song! Before coming, he had given all sorts of hints, both direct and indirect, for them to watch their words, not to pry into Wang Jiu's privacy, not to mention Lin Zi. How did he end up acting like he'd swallowed a firecracker after just one plane ride?

But this Wang Jiu was venomous too, truly living up to her reputation of "Besides my old lady, all of you here are trash."

Fortunately, Song Yuanqiao was a politician by trade. He pulled Grand Uncle Xie aside and said in a low voice, "I originally just wanted to have a proper talk with you. It's up to you whether you're willing or not. As for Jiong Jiong, you don't need to provoke me. My grasp of logic may not be as good as yours, but I understand responsibility analysis better than you do. I'm not about to misplace my hatred. As for Song Yin, he died too early."

Qi Shuanghan summed it up quite well: "So he wants to talk about Lao Wang dying and not needing a funeral home?"

The small group chat fell silent.

For once, Wang Jiu showed some respect for an elder. She moved to the adjacent courtyard, crossed her arms, and looked at the two of them. "I guess you're going to serve me a big bowl of 'the dead are gone, cherish the present' chicken soup, but I've never liked chicken soup."

"I'm not in a good mood today. I might not be able to fully uphold her teachings. So, please don't force me to make a mistake."

Seeing Wang Jiu turn to leave, Song Yuanqiao grew anxious and played his trump card. He said to her back, "She had cancer. She got it years ago. Wang Jiu, you're not a child anymore. You should know that for some people, death is destiny!"

Wang Jiu's steps halted before the archway. She stood perfectly still.

These words were cruel. Song Yuanqiao had never wanted to say them in his life, partly because he didn't want to hurt Wang Jiu, and partly because he was afraid she would connect it to the gene potion and refuse to take it.

Cancer existed, but it wasn't incurable, because the gene potion existed. It was just that when Lin Zi wrote that will, the future of the gene potion was still uncertain, its success not guaranteed. And even after she was diagnosed with cancer, she never changed the contents of her will.

One cannot understand the long-term plans of a parent without being one.

Only gradually did Song Yuanqiao come to understand Lin Zi's protection and arrangements for Wang Jiu. In turn, he could also understand Wang Jiu's feelings for Lin Zi.

"If you didn't have the sacrifice on you, I wouldn't stop you. I would even give you all my resources to strive together with you. But not now."

"Wang Jiu, no sacrifice of a life for a life is meaningful."

At the crematorium, Song Yuanqiao and Qian Cheng knew what Wang Jiu was planning to do next, and they knew she wouldn't turn back.

Song Yuanqiao's eyes trembled slightly. "Believe me, your meaning to her is in no way less than hers to you. I know you don't have much time left. Come back to the capital with me. I'll guarantee with my life that I can stabilize the hidden danger in you and resolve it. You don't have to worry about becoming a research subject. I've already made an agreement with them to sign a contract with the game beforehand, giving you absolute protection…"

He had already taken care of everything. The things Lin Zi had accused him of not being able to do for Jiong Jiong, he had now bent the rules and selfishly done for Wang Jiu.

Everyone makes mistakes, and not all mistakes can be undone.

So the best way is to not make mistakes, to not make mistakes…

Song Yuanqiao's eyes were a little red, but he tried his best to control his emotions. "Ah Jiu, I hope you can turn back, just this once."

Just like his daughter, if only she could turn back one more time.

If only one could turn back, how wonderful it would be.

Qian Cheng remained silent the whole time, not interrupting, just waiting for Wang Jiu's response.

After a while, Wang Jiu, still not turning around, said with her back to them, "I'm no ordinary sacrifice. No one can save me."

"Not the Buddha, Guanyin, or any of the Three Pure Ones."

But the old lady went to pray every year. She clearly knew it was useless, but whenever someone teased her about it, she would always say with a cheerful smile, "The more the merrier, right?"

Wang Jiu lowered her eyes, her eyelashes casting a shadow over the faint light in their depths. Her thin lips were pressed tightly together, as if she were holding her breath deep within her body. She had never liked to reminisce, but she couldn't stop the images flashing through her mind.

Back then, after she had successfully hypnotized and bewitched Zhou Shanren and his group, she had led them to the cave in Miao Village. But what no one knew was that before that, she had already died.

Yes, not just flayed. Her flesh had been stripped away as well. Her injuries were too severe, and the conditions in the basement were limited, slowing her recovery. Zhou Shanren and the others were at a loss. To avoid being held accountable by their superiors, they threw her body into the corpse pool, took the human-skin mask, and fled, hoping to obtain the witch's power in the cave and thus avoid death.

Among them, Zhou Shanren did not enter the cave, because she had specifically left him to be dealt with later, when the old lady arrived.

But at that time, her body was indeed soaking in the pool with other corpses, the freshest of which was Yan Hui's sister.

Rotting, bubbling, breeding maggots.

None of that was the most terrifying part. What was terrifying was that, having deliberately faked her death due to slow recovery, she could clearly feel her mutilated body slowly regenerating in the pile of dead bodies.

And her face was turned toward the top of the pool.

It was a deep well.

During that long period of time, it was as if… you clearly and distinctly confirmed that you were no longer a normal person.

Not human.

A monster, a demon.

She waited in the pool for several days. Later, a rope was lowered, and she reached out, grabbing it and being hoisted out of the deep well. She didn't know what she looked like in the eyes of Yan Hui, who had rushed over, as she emerged from the bottom of the well with her legs not yet fully grown back.

Disheveled, terrifying, stinking.

What was the difference between her and a corpse?

There was one. Yan Hui carefully took out a white steamed bun for her. She grabbed it with her newly grown fingers, still stained with corpse water, and squatted by the well, asking him in a calm voice that surprised even herself.

"Have you sent word to Lin Zi?"

Yan Hui nodded.

Only then did she feel relieved enough to start gnawing on the steamed bun. It was tasteless, like chewing wax, but she pretended to eat it with great relish.

She could do this. She wasn't a monster. She could still be like a person.

At the very least, she had to wear a human skin.

As long as that person was willing to come for her.

The old lady, foolishly searching for her daughter, was her best springboard. If she was unkind to her, then she would just kill her. If she was good to her, then… then…

Actually, at the time, she didn't know what she would do.

She stuffed the last piece of the steamed bun into her mouth. The flesh of her newly grown cheek was pushed aside, a pain that drew blood, but she didn't care. She looked ahead and saw the village, even her family's old house.

Then… she vaguely felt that something was not right with the well behind her.

It was only much, much later that she remembered.

This well was where the old lady had once intended to use poison, but ultimately laid down her butcher's knife.

Perhaps the spot where she was squatting was where the old lady had once stood. The latter probably never knew what was hidden at the bottom of the well back then.

The old lady laid down her butcher's knife and became a Buddha.

And what was she, having climbed out from the bottom of the well?

Later on, she was probably so thoroughly fooled by the old lady that she wholeheartedly wanted to be a person like her. So she spared no effort to cut away the totem skin that regenerated on her body time and time again. It didn't matter if her power weakened; it was a double-edged sword that gnawed at her bones anyway, and she had no use for it.

But then… the sacrifice began, and her time kept shrinking.

She knew then that it was also destiny.

A monster is a monster. The human world won't keep it; it has to obediently crawl back to hell.

She made the most ruthless decision, pulled some strings to leave, and returned to a place very close to Miao Mountain.

She had never thought of surrendering. It was clinging to her, was it? Just give her some time, and she would take care of it.

When the time came, she could still go back to being Wang Ah Jiu, the Wang Ah Jiu who made the old lady both proud and worried.

But it turns out… a person truly cannot outwit destiny.

Finally, her reminiscence over, Wang Jiu turned her back to Song Yuanqiao and the other man, gave a light laugh, and walked away.

She wouldn't turn back.

She couldn't turn back.

Because for her, destiny had always only had one path.

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