After the Cold-Faced Beauty Was Tricked into Marriage by the Emperor - Chapter 1

The city sparkled under the night sky, its lights dazzling.

The sharp sirens of ambulances and police cars echoed one after another. The open space in front of the building was densely packed with people, their gazes fixed on the dark red bloodstain on the ground.

A few voices drifted from the crowd, “…So young, what could have driven them to this?”

No one noticed the figure slipping silently through the commotion at the very back.

Jing Nian lifted his eyes, his face pale yet unnervingly beautiful, expressionless as he walked straight toward the building cordoned off by police tape.

The yellow caution tape passed right through his body, offering no resistance whatsoever.

The elevator numbers climbed floor by floor until they reached the top.

Jing Nian kicked open the iron door to the rooftop, sending it crashing against the wall with a dull thud.

The person curled up in the corner showed no reaction, their translucent body huddled with knees to chest, eyes vacant.

Upon closer inspection, this person’s clothing and appearance were identical to the mangled, bloodied corpse lying downstairs.

Jing Nian pulled out a tablet, his slender fingers tapping the screen twice to bring up the person’s complete information file.

Zhou Yan, male, 20 years old, a university student in City A. His profile was straightforward.

As for the cause of death, a single line was written: Depressed after betrayal by boyfriend and pressure from family, jumped from building.

He put the tablet away, took a few steps closer, and looked at Zhou Yan’s bewildered, huddled form. Thinking this one might be relatively compliant, he tossed the Soul-Binding Chain toward him. “Let’s go.”

Hearing his voice, Zhou Yan finally reacted, looking up with a dazed expression and asking, “…Go where?”

His eyes were filled with a mix of clarity and foolishness.

Jing Nian’s brow furrowed slightly, his expression visibly darkening.

Though, to be fair, his face had never looked cheerful to begin with. With a stern little expression, he thought he looked fierce, but it came off more like a grumpy kitten—not very intimidating at all.

“To the underworld.”

“You’re already dead.”

The confusion in Zhou Yan’s eyes shattered instantly, replaced by a look of utter shock, as if he’d seen a ghost. “What?!”

He sprang up, circling Jing Nian twice and examining him from head to toe.

The young man before him looked about his own age. Aside from his striking beauty and the inexplicably floating chain in his hand, everything else seemed perfectly normal.

Zhou Yan tentatively reached out and patted Jing Nian’s shoulder.

It was cold.

But not the lifeless kind of cold—just slightly cooler than a normal person’s temperature, as if he’d simply been standing too long in the winter night breeze.

“Is this some kind of prank show?”

Zhou Yan forced a smile, trying to reassure himself. “I did think about jumping earlier, but that was just a thought—I didn’t actually do it! I’ve changed my mind. I’ll come back when I grow invisible wings!”

As he spoke, he started heading toward the stairs. Passing by Jing Nian, he even casually remarked, concerned about the other’s slender frame, “It’s pretty cold up here on the rooftop. You should head back too—”

His voice cut off abruptly.

A pale, slender hand gripped the back of his collar.

Jing Nian might look thin, but his strength was absurdly immense.

Before Zhou Yan could react, he was dragged over to the broken guardrail, his head forced downward to look.

Down below, the flashing lights of police cars and ambulances still alternated, and within the cordoned-off area lay a person.

Originally, Zhou Yan couldn’t make out the blurred, bloody mess, but Jing Nian used some method to suddenly sharpen the image.

The person lying there was himself, even though the face was no longer recognizable.

The scene of the fall suddenly flooded back into his mind.

Zhou Yan stared blankly at the body below, then pried open Jing Nian’s fingers one by one, still unwilling to accept the truth of his own death.

“Alright, buddy, you should head home early too. A pretty boy like you isn’t safe out here…”

Before he could finish, the Soul-Binding Chain wrapped him up from head to toe, even sealing his chattering mouth shut.

Jing Nian, expressionless, gripped the other end of the chain and dragged the struggling, squirming “cocoon” across the rooftop, leaving the scene behind.

Muffled whimpers came from the cocoon, still trying to say something, but Jing Nian had no patience to listen.

He’d seen plenty of ghosts like this—the kind who refused to admit they were dead. A good beating in a place without surveillance usually did the trick.

Souls that entered the underworld gradually lost the vitality they had in life, becoming muddled and confused. Only in the brief period right after death could they retain those inherently human traits.

Stubbornness. Refusal to accept fate.

Jing Nian’s soul-collecting methods were crude, simple, and efficient—and his complaint rate among ghosts was equally high. But the underworld’s ghost handlers all knew that their Lord Mei hadn’t always been like this.

In the past, someone else was responsible for collecting souls outside. Jing Nian stayed behind in the underworld, guarding those who had already lost consciousness. After spending too long in a sunless place, his days became as stagnant as a pool of dead water.

His once expressive face was now left with nothing but cold, unapproachable indifference.

Ever since he was silently abandoned by his deeply affectionate adoptive father, he became the fallen young master of a declining household. His temper grew worse, and the number of complaints filed against him in the underworld for beating up innocent souls increased.

Even when complaints reached his superior, he’d still beat them up too.

The superior, terrified, quickly reassigned him overnight.

And so, Jing Nian was sent to the mortal realm to collect souls, dealing with the living every day and specializing in handling spirits like Zhou Yan who refused to leave.

The process wasn’t pretty, but efficiency did improve.

Exactly the effect leadership wanted.

Tormented daily by these bizarre “clients,” Jing Nian adopted a fluffy little pet to heal his soul—only to choose the wrong species.

He adopted a rabbit, commonly known as a “silent beagle.” Even worse, this one wasn’t silent—it could talk.

Jing Nian dragged Zhou Yan through the bustling city center, stopping in front of a skyscraper.

It was an entertainment company. Though bound by chains, Zhou Yan’s eyes lit up.

The lobby was filled with A-list celebrities—people he usually only saw on screen.

He whimpered twice, desperately signaling Jing Nian with his eyes to remove the chain from his mouth.

Jing Nian glanced at him but didn’t move.

Zhou Yan continued whimpering, his gaze pitiful. Annoyed, Jing Nian finally hooked a finger, and the chain around his mouth loosened.

Zhou Yan seized the opportunity. “Since I’m already dead, just let me stay and look a little longer! That male celebrity—I really like him! I’m gay!”

That’s even more reason not to leave you here.

Jing Nian dragged him to the staff elevator, swiped a card, and pressed the button for the lowest floor, his expression cold and detached.

“Look at me, then. I’m gay too.”

Zhou Yan opened his mouth, then closed it, finally squeezing out a sentence: “…I’m a bottom.”

The elevator screen’s numbers plummeted rapidly from the first floor. Jing Nian leaned against the wall, arms crossed, the Soul-Binding Chain gripped in his hand.

Fists the size of red bean buns.

Hitting people hurts, but hitting ghosts hurts even more.

“There’s no surveillance here. Feel free to keep talking back.”

Zhou Yan wanted to say he wasn’t talking back, but when Jing Nian’s gaze fell on him, he immediately shut his mouth.

The elevator doors slid open, revealing a dark crimson sky. The underworld wasn’t as terrifying as he’d imagined, but the oppressive atmosphere was indescribable.

Jing Nian handed him over to the on-duty ghost officer, opened his tablet, and checked off Zhou Yan’s photo. His work for the day was done.

Pushing open the glass door to the office, he entered a vast space neatly divided into three sections.

The innermost area was his territory. On his desk sat a few cute animal figurines and a snack basket.

The most prominent spot was occupied by a pet bed, where a light brown lump was half-exposed and half-hidden inside.

Jing Nian stretched his limbs, rubbing his sore arms as he walked toward the bed. “Little Rabbit, time to go home.”

He reached into the bed to scoop it up.

But the texture wasn’t the soft warmth he expected—it felt prickly instead.

Jing Nian looked down at the round kiwifruit in his hand and fell into deep thought.

Narrowing his eyes, he took a deep breath, peeled the kiwi, and took a fierce bite, his cheeks bulging.

Chew, chew, chew.

Fine! Swapping things out behind my back, huh?!

After finishing the kiwi, his slender fingers swiped across his phone screen a few times before dialing Little Rabbit’s number.

Before the other side could even utter a sound, Jing Nian’s roar erupted first. “If I don’t see you when I get home, I’ll pluck your fur and use it as a hand towel—!!”

Meanwhile, in a park somewhere in the suburbs, a little rabbit who had been enticing stray cats instantly bristled. Forgetting all about the cats, it stuffed its phone into its pocket and bolted home as fast as its legs could carry it.

Jing Nian hung up the phone, feeling the pent-up anger in his chest ease a bit. His phone screen lit up—the time was exactly midnight.

He glanced at the date. There was exactly one month left before the contract he’d signed with the Ghost Lord would expire.

Back then, Gu Yehan had left inexplicably, and Jing Nian was still young. The Ghost Lord was full of lies, and he had believed some of them.

The self-proclaimed “kindest ghost in the world” told Jing Nian that his father had abandoned him and sold him to the underworld to pay off debts.

All he had to do was sign the paper, and the Ghost Lord would help him find his father.

Naïve and inexperienced, Jing Nian believed him and signed.

Not only did his father never return, but he himself also ended up trapped.

Stay away from family reunion traps. Beware of underworld scams.

But none of that mattered now. What mattered was that he was finally about to break free. Working for over a thousand years without pay—who wouldn’t be furious?

It was a miracle he hadn’t turned dark.

The thought of bidding farewell to the heartless underworld filled him with relief. This relief lasted until he took the elevator back to the first floor and ran into the Ghost Lord’s face—beautiful and enchanting, yet utterly punchable.

“Hello~ Nian Nian~”

Jing Nian stared blankly, eyelids drooping. “We just saw each other this morning.”

“Ah, but that was different!”

Qiu Huai shamelessly leaned in, pulling him out of the elevator.

Jing Nian knew him all too well—a super invincible swindler who only showed up when he had an agenda.

“What do you want?”

Qiu Huai rubbed his hands together eagerly. “Nothing much. I just wanted you to check out my newly formed boy band. If you like any of them, you can take them home with you!”

“Not interested.” Jing Nian pushed him aside and walked away. “I’m a committed man, not as frivolous as you.”

“You’ve got a little bunny ball at home, Gu Yehan left, and your father doesn’t want you anymore.”

Qiu Huai planted his hands on his hips, trotting out the line that had scared him for over a thousand years.

But Jing Nian was no longer a child who could be easily frightened. He replied calmly, “So now he’s my ex-husband.”

“Come on, just take a look!”

Qiu Huai refused to give up, grabbing him and dragging him by force to the edge of the live-streaming studio.

Qiu Huai was greedy for money and had a sharp business mind. Over the years, his investments had earned him a fortune, and now he wanted a piece of the newly emerging online group streaming trend.

Jing Nian looked at the seven or eight men on stage, his temples throbbing.

A few of the younger ones were quite good-looking, fitting Qiu Huai’s usual taste, but the one in the center position weighed at least three hundred pounds—an oily-faced middle-aged man.

Jing Nian shot Qiu Huai a look of disbelief. “…Is this your type?”

“Nonsense!” Qiu Huai spat. “This is a traffic strategy! You need something unusual to attract attention!”

Jing Nian gave him a strange look, sizing him up from head to toe. “You’re already unusual enough.”

“So last month, when the employee group chat was buzzing about how you went out to buy a watermelon, accidentally touched the hand of a two-hundred-pound gay boss, got flustered, ran off without paying, and ended up at the police station—was that true?”

Qiu Huai: …??

Stealing a watermelon described so elegantly.

What kind of thunderous rumor is this?

None of it is true.

Just as he was about to denounce the rumor-monger, his phone suddenly rang. Qiu Huai glanced down and immediately tensed up, turning off the screen the next second as if afraid Jing Nian might see something he shouldn’t.

He quickly changed the subject. “Nian Nian! You haven’t had dinner yet, right? If I remember correctly, your contract ends in a month. My treat! Let’s go celebrate, how about that?”

Jing Nian narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him.

A miser treating someone to a meal—a once-in-eight-thousand-years event.

Still, he took the bait. He really hadn’t eaten dinner, and Qiu Huai promised to take him to a high-end hotel.

Since his family’s fortunes had declined, he hadn’t tasted high-end hotel food in ages.

Qiu Huai had just bought a new car and insisted on driving himself instead of hiring a driver, even though he’d gotten his license less than a week ago and hadn’t figured out all the car’s functions yet.

The winter night was cold, and the temperature difference between inside and outside the car quickly fogged up the windows.

After fumbling around for a while without finding the defogger, he turned to the passenger seat for help. “Nian Nian, could you stop breathing?”

No breathing, no fog.

Jing Nian clenched his fists.

Qiu Huai sensed trouble and slammed on the gas. “Buckle up and don’t move around—!”

Jing Nian was thrown back into his seat, his anger dissipating halfway.

As they entered the hotel lobby, a waiter warmly greeted them and led the way.

Qiu Huai kept turning his head like a thief, his eyes darting around nervously.

When they reached the reserved private room, Jing Nian finally couldn’t hold back. “You’re not planning to dine and dash, are you?”

After all, there was the watermelon incident as a precedent.

“How could that be…”

Qiu Huai waved his hand absentmindedly, still scanning the surroundings.

The person he wanted to see finally appeared. When he got a clear look, his eyes widened in shock, and he gasped sharply.

Hearing the commotion, Jing Nian tried to turn around, but Qiu Huai’s hands moved faster than his brain. He grabbed Jing Nian’s shoulders, shoved him into the private room, and slammed the door shut with a bang.

“Nian Nian, go in and rest first! I’ll go find someone to order the food!”

He shut the door firmly before turning and rushing toward the figure, his voice strained with frustration, “Who told you to dress like that—?!”

“I went through all that trouble to trick Jing Nian into coming here, and you show up dressed like a waiter?!”

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