The Ghost Insists on Giving Me a Beautiful and Powerful Wife! - Chapter 23

Sang Xi no longer had the strength to speak.

Leaning against Yu Ruoyin, tears clung to her lashes as she looked toward the direction where He Meijie had just been taken away by Jiang Huaining.

There, two jade puppets were still locked in battle.

Guilt weighed down on her heart, mixed with regret and pain.
“If only they could live… If… If only… I wasn’t a good mother, I…”

“Xiaoyu, the Four-Spirits Shop cannot interfere with the life and death of the living. Don’t drag Boss Jiang into breaking the rules.” Her emotional plea was abruptly cut off by Lu Qingzhen, who had been keeping an eye on them. Hearing Yu Ruoyin ask about Sang Xi’s wish, she quickly came over. “Otherwise, she…”

Yu Ruoyin hesitated.

Jiang Huaining had promised to grant whatever Sang Xi wished for, yet if Lu Qingzhen said it would violate the rules, she wanted to hear Jiang Huaining’s opinion first.

She didn’t dare talk back. Her gaze flickered guiltily.

Seeing she couldn’t reason with her, Lu Qingzhen turned to Sang Xi.
“You’ve got quite the ability. You should’ve heard of the Four-Spirits Shop’s rules. Just like the underworld, they can’t meddle in the life and death of mortals. That girl only just became shopkeeper; she’s young and doesn’t fully understand yet. But you should. Sang Qian’s soul was fused into He Meijie’s corpse to make a jade puppet—her soul has long since split away from the body. To revive her, you’d first need to reassemble the soul, then seize a living person’s body.”

She stopped there, rubbing her jar, round eyes fixed on Yu Ruoyin.
“Do you want to hurt someone?”

“No, I don’t!”

“Then what you want is for Boss Jiang to hurt someone for you. If she agrees, she’ll be shouldering the deaths of many.”

“Qingzhen!” Yu Ruoyin flinched in fright. Seeing her so stern and cold, she grew even more intimidated. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. Aunt Ning… she wouldn’t hurt innocents either.”

“Tch, look at how timid you are.” Lu Qingzhen bent down and pressed hard at the center of Yu Ruoyin’s forehead. “I’m not going to do anything to you. If you don’t want that, then have her change her wish.”

Yu Ruoyin covered her forehead, while Lu Qingzhen kept nagging:
“Sang Xi, your trick will only last seven days. Today you’ll all disperse into nothingness. Little Fish offering to trade with you is already your fortune. Think of a wish other than resurrection.”

“Other than resurrection…” Sang Xi’s eyes went vacant.

Perhaps because death was so near, her memories grew tangled and muddled.

She suddenly recalled a night many years ago.

That night she had quarreled with her father again and was punished to kneel in the living room. Tong Weixue, like so many times before, sat on the sofa, fiddling with the homework Sang Xi had already finished.

Moonlight spilled through the window, draping Tong Weixue in a soft silvery veil, making her look impossibly gentle.

Sang Xi, encouraged by that false gentleness, crawled forward until she could rest her head on Tong Weixue’s lap.

She gazed up, unblinking.
“Jiejie, you’re so pretty. When I grow up, I’ll be as pretty as you, won’t I?”

Tong Weixue: “Why would you look like me?”

Sang Xi replied without thinking: “Because you’re my sister.”

Tong Weixue’s face instantly darkened. She pushed Sang Xi’s head away coldly.
“Sang Xi, I’ll curse you.”

“Huh?”

Sang Xi didn’t yet understand what a curse was, so Tong Weixue made it plainer:
“Half your blood comes from my enemy. For you to look like me—it’s an insult.”

Sang Xi understood the word “insult.” Her eyes brimmed with tears.
“Then… then what do you want me to do, Jiejie?”

Tong Weixue’s lips curled cruelly.
“If you could die right now, I’d be very happy.”

“O-okay.”

Sang Xi didn’t really understand what death meant. She only knew that if she did so, her sister would be happy.

She scrambled up and ran to the window.

Just as she opened a narrow crack, her hand was seized.

“Sang Xi.”

The voice, cold as frost, could shatter everything in her. Sang Xi cried out, “Jiejie.”

Tong Weixue yanked her away from the window, face still cold.
“Kneel back down.”

“Yes, Jiejie.”

She always obeyed.

Not because Tong Weixue was especially harsh, but because Sang Xi willingly treated herself as a puppet, handing the strings into her sister’s hands.

She knelt again, while Tong Weixue moved closer to the window, gaze drifting outward.

Sang Xi couldn’t see her expression, only hear the chill in her voice:
“Sang Xi, I truly will curse you. Curse you to die.”

…

She would accept it.

As long as it was her sister’s wish, she would accept anything.

Death wasn’t so frightening. Compared to living on alone, it felt more like release.

Her only regret was her sister’s bloodline, and pity for the child she had raised, who followed her will all their life.

She knew Lu Qingzhen spoke truth. She and Tong Sangqian’s fates were bound together by ritual; even their souls were incomplete, beyond reincarnation, let alone resurrection.

He Meijie’s soul had contracted with the Four-Spirits Shop—once her great vengeance was fulfilled, her soul would vanish instantly. Not even Jiang Huaining could change that.

Other wishes?

The dying had little they could not let go of—except… her sister.

“Perhaps…” Sang Xi’s time was almost gone. Breath shallow, she forced her lips apart.
“Could you let me see my sister once more? Even just in a dream.”

Lu Qingzhen looked the kinder sort, but her sympathy was thin.

She couldn’t help striking Sang Xi down:
“Tong Weixue has already scattered into nothing! Do you think the Four-Spirits Shop is a charity, granting every ridiculous wish? Do you even know—”

Xing Ruoyan clamped a hand over her mouth.
“Lord Lu, quiet.”

Though Lu outranked Xing, her unreasonable attitude left Xing no choice.

Yu Ruoyin had been firm at first.

As long as Sang Xi dared to ask, she would agree—because Jiang Huaining told her to. But with Lu Qingzhen harping on rules and limits, doubt clouded her. She didn’t know how to answer.

At that moment, the red jade fruit at her chest glowed. A familiar voice whispered into her ear:
“Ahyin, agree to it.”

Yu Ruoyin looked around in shock, but Jiang Huaining was nowhere to be seen. No one else seemed to hear.

She quickly realized—the voice came from the jade fruit. Jiang Huaining had said before she could use it to hear her. She hadn’t expected they could speak across distance with it.

Once, she would’ve thought eavesdropping was rude. Now, it felt like salvation.

Jiang Huaining hadn’t abandoned her.

With guidance, clarity returned.

She clutched the red jade fruit and, before Sang Xi could despair, promised firmly:
“Yes. You will see your sister.”

“R-really?”

Sang Xi’s eyes lit with hope, doubt, and fear.

With Jiang Huaining’s backing, Yu Ruoyin’s voice rang with certainty.
“Really. I promise.”

Lu Qingzhen broke free from Xing Ruoyan’s hold, glaring furiously.
“Boss Jiang won’t allow this.”

“She will.”

“And what makes you so sure?”

Yu Ruoyin gripped the fruit tightly, breath steadying.
“Because… because I’ll tell her. And she’ll agree. She always does.”

“Ahh!” Lu Qingzhen was near breaking. Shoving Xing away, she glared fiercely at Yu Ruoyin.
“I should’ve known—you’d bully Boss Jiang. Did you forget her spiritual energy—”

She stopped abruptly, swallowing her words, face dark with frustration.
“You ungrateful little brat.”

Yu Ruoyin understood.

Lu Qingzhen wasn’t rejecting Sang Xi’s wish out of coldness, but out of concern for Jiang Huaining.

Jiang Huaining had seemed so strong that Yu Ruoyin had forgotten—her spiritual power was already halved.

Those miracle milk teas weren’t just rare herbs mixed together. Jiang Huaining’s own energy must have gone into neutralizing them. With half her strength left, she was still suppressing Xia Yu—and now taking on such a difficult wish.

No wonder Lu Qingzhen was worried. And now Yu Ruoyin was worried too.

But still, she didn’t take her words back.

Whatever Jiang Huaining planned, it was her decision.

She had promised to listen.

Yu Ruoyin steadied herself, changed the subject.
“Qingzhen, where are you hurt?”

“Here, here, and here.”

In an instant, Lu Qingzhen grew pitiful, pointing out nearly her entire body.

Yu Ruoyin stared oddly. “Xia Yu did that?”

Lu Qingzhen fiddled with her jar, pinky pointing toward the downed figures.
“Some from Xia Yu, some from them, some from the jade puppets and that evil sorcerer. Later, I’ll teach them all a lesson.”

She cracked her knuckles, eager for revenge.

Yu Ruoyin doubted she’d get the chance.

Tong Sangqian, He Meijie, Sang Xi—each hated them far more deeply than she ever could.

Would Jiang Huaining and the others succeed?

—

Jiang Huaining raced with He Meijie toward Tong Sangqian.

They moved swiftly, closing the distance. But He Meijie slowed.
“Milord…”

Jiang Huaining halted too.

“If the three of us vanish together… it’ll be like we were never apart, right?”

Her trembling voice betrayed the fear buried inside. Jiang Huaining, for once, spared her a reassuring look.
“Do you regret making this deal with me?”

“No!” He Meijie shook her head fiercely, gritting her teeth.
“I want revenge. No matter the cost!”

Then why stop?

But He Meijie didn’t move on. Her eyes held yearning.
“Milord, I was just… envious. If I were strong like you, maybe… maybe Mother wouldn’t have died. Maybe my stepmother wouldn’t have had to suffer. Maybe my little sister wouldn’t have sacrificed everything for me. I even thought her guarding my soul was harming me…”

Perhaps because the story neared its end, Jiang Huaining was unusually patient.
“You’re wrong. Strength never guaranteed keeping those you love safe…”

She cut herself off before sentiment betrayed her. Adjusting her tone back to calm, she said:
“He Meijie, you are fortunate. They all love you. Your mother scattered her soul, giving all her merit so you could live. Your stepmother guarded you in silence for twelve years. Your sister gave her everything to protect you.”

He Meijie couldn’t deny it.

The three most important people in her life had all sacrificed themselves for her, each ending in utter annihilation.

She was guilty—and grateful.

Afraid she’d cry, she rushed forward.
“Milord, let’s hurry. I want to help my sister.”

They were close now.

He Meijie saw how badly wounded Tong Sangqian was.

Dragged out for days, she was far from her peak.

The fight had dragged on too long. She was battered, corpse body already missing both arms, pale wounds oozing black ichor. With no real attacks left, she resorted to headbutting He Fengxi’s corpse again and again. His body was more intact, more agile, leaving precise gashes each time.

At this rate, Tong Sangqian would be torn apart.

“Milord!”

He Meijie panicked, calling Jiang Huaining.

Jiang Huaining shoved her forward—suddenly, a black cat appeared at her abdomen.

It burned swiftly, dissolving into liquid that sank into her belly, and her soul was pulled irresistibly into her body.

She felt herself dragged deeper and deeper, until her back collided with a familiar embrace. A voice called by her ear:
“Jiejie!”

Turning, she finally saw Tong Sangqian’s soul.

It wasn’t solid. Chains studded with spikes bound her tightly, piercing through her essence, black flames devouring her.

Each flicker weakened her further.

Her face pale, lips blue.

She was already dead.

Tong Sangqian should’ve been writhing in agony, but instead she smiled, no different than before.
“Jiejie, I missed you so much! I looked for you every day, but whenever I caught your scent, by the time I got there you were gone.”

She always loved to smile. And He Meijie always loved seeing her smile.

But not now.

With every word, the chains tightened cruelly.

So much pain, so much suffering.

She should’ve realized.

With such wounds on her soul, her body couldn’t have survived. How could she have ever suspected her?

He Meijie wanted to apologize, but Tong Sangqian spoke first.
“Jiejie, I’m sorry. I was too useless. If I’d been stronger, you wouldn’t have had to make that deal with the Four-Spirits Shop.”

“You… you knew?”

“My fate is bound to Mother’s. I heard everything you said.” Despite her wounds, she smiled brightly.
“It was that wicked Daoist. If not for his slave mark, I would’ve found you long ago. Then you wouldn’t have had to wander alone. You’ve never lived by yourself before. These days must’ve been so hard, so lonely. Without me talking to you, you must’ve felt strange. Jiejie… you missed me too, didn’t you?”

She was like Sang Xi, yet not the same.

Sang Xi endured silently.
Tong Sangqian, more like Sang Xi’s childhood self, spoke her heart freely.

“Jiejie?”

Her expectant gaze was too much to bear. He Meijie’s chest ached. She hugged the chained figure tightly.
“Yes. Jiejie missed you very much.”

Their souls drew closer, merging. Colorful light wrapped around the chains.

With sharp cracks, one by one, they shattered. Energy flowed back into her fragile spirit, restoring her.

The moment her hands were freed, Tong Sangqian hugged He Meijie without hesitation.
“I knew it! Jiejie would miss me! We’re the best together!”

Souls had no warmth, yet He Meijie felt seared by the embrace.

She couldn’t hold back her tears. Tong Sangqian stiffened, reaching for the wound splitting her sister’s skull.
“Jiejie, did I squeeze too hard? I forgot—you’re hurt…”

Her eyes fixed on the wound cleaving He Meijie’s head.
“Jiejie, I’m sorry. I couldn’t protect you. You must hurt so much.”

He Meijie wanted to cry and laugh at once.
“Tong Sangqian, you’re so silly. Always worrying about me. Don’t you feel pain yourself?”

Her tone sharpened, sounding almost angry.

Tong Sangqian fidgeted. “Jiejie…”

He Meijie hugged her again. The fragile, scarred soul had wounds everywhere. Her death had been anything but peaceful.

She herself hadn’t felt pain—she’d blacked out, only waking as a ghost.

But Tong Sangqian had died fully conscious.

Why was she only worried for her? She herself was the unworthy one—she had doubted her.

He Meijie’s heart softened to breaking. Her voice gentled.
“Shallow, it must’ve hurt when you died.”

“No, it didn’t!” Tong Sangqian grinned, radiant.
“I only thought of avenging Jiejie. Not painful at all!”

Before He Meijie could be moved, her smile faltered.

Her tone grew gloomy.
“Jiejie, am I too stupid? Mother put all her power in me, but… the other day, I couldn’t even find them. And now that I finally did, I still can’t win.”

“Yeah, stupid.” He Meijie agreed, but squeezed her hand firmly.
“But it doesn’t matter. I’m smart. This time, together, we’ll avenge Mother—and ourselves!”

Tong Sangqian gripped her back.
“With Jiejie, we can do anything!”

He Fengxi had thought victory his.

A woman suddenly sent He Meijie’s soul into her body, and he feared an ally had come—but she left immediately.

Then, when He Meijie entered, Tong Sangqian’s aura transformed, strength surging. Her severed arms even regenerated. Stronger than she’d been days before. Had that madwoman Sang Xi used another trick?

For years, his body half-controlled by Zhuang Suping, he still felt all the pain.

Every year, on Tong Weixue’s death day, Sang Xi flayed him alive for offerings. Without his corpse’s regeneration, he’d never have endured.

Now, when vengeance was finally within reach, he could not allow surprises.

He seized a huge boulder, charging to smash the puppet apart.

But just as he lunged, the puppet turned, kicking him hard.

The stone exploded into shards, two of his fingers broken. Debris clattered down, mocking his futile effort.

Impossible—how had she grown this strong in an instant?

Clutching his mangled hand, he staggered back. The puppet pursued relentlessly, nails elongating into crimson claws that struck straight for his heart.

And from her lips came a voice:
“He Fengxi, you murdered your wife and daughter. You’re nothing but a beast!”

It wasn’t Tong Sangqian’s voice.

It was He Meijie’s.

He Fengxi felt the wrath in her tone,

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