Transmigrated into a Trashy A and Ended Up with My Grudge-filled Best Friend and My Own CP - Chapter 28

Ding Moyan was torn. Part of her wanted to run away, to abandon the thing and flee, while another part refused to give up. These conflicting emotions clashed violently within her, screaming for dominance.

In the end, Ding Moyan gritted her teeth hard and dragged the heavy Soul-locking frame forward, forcing herself to keep running.

With a crash, the shelf holding porcelain bottles tilted and collapsed, burning as it hurtled toward Ding Moyan’s face.

She dodged the massive wooden shelf just in time, but shards of broken porcelain still sprayed out, cutting her cheeks and arms.

The porcelain fragments left clear, bloody marks, and the searing heat of the fire made her skin burn as if scalded. The pain on her arms and face was excruciating.

The fire grew fiercer, thick smoke filling her nostrils. She was only a dozen centimeters from the door, yet it felt impossible to move forward.

Ding Moyan’s vision began to blur. Helplessness and despair weighed on her, her entire body feeling as if it were melting in the flames but she couldn’t stop.

She knew that if she paused even for a second, death would be upon her.

Outside the master bedroom door, Wang Ye paced anxiously, repeatedly trying to push the door open, only to be stopped by Yu Sisi each time.

“Wang Ye, don’t be reckless. With your frail body, you’d just be adding to the chaos throwing your life away,” Yu Sisi said, gripping Wang Ye’s wrist to keep her from charging in.

“Ding Moyan is an Alpha, she’s strong. She’ll make it out,” Yu Sisi insisted, though she hesitated slightly on the words “make it out.”

Wang Ye’s neck flushed red. “Let me go!”

With a loud crash, the door burst open.

A figure flung the Soul-locking frame out first. Ye Ye, startled, quickly dragged Ding Moyan out of the inferno.

“Ding Moyan!!” Wang Ye broke free from Yu Sisi’s grip and rushed over.

By the time Ye Ye caught her, Ding Moyan had already lost consciousness.

Ye Ye urgently pulled out a medical kit from her backpack and pressed something under Ding Moyean’s nose.

The sharp scent of menthol cut through the haze in Ding Moyan’s mind, jolting her awake.

Slowly, Ding Moyan lifted her heavy eyelids. As she did, she felt someone gently stroking her arm, applying a cool, soothing ointment.

“Don’t move,” Ye Ye said as she tended to Ding Moyan’s wounds.

Ding Moyan was too weak to move. Staring at her scorched, bloodied arm, she felt a pang of nausea.

Her gaze shifted to the Soul-locking frame she had dragged out, and anger surged within her. “Smash it,” she growled.

Without hesitation, Wang Ye grabbed a hammer and swung it at the frame.

The frame was surprisingly sturdy, enduring five or six hard blows before finally cracking.

As the frame shattered, the trapped ghost was freed.

The photo hadn’t done the man justice, the real man was far younger than the image, his thin lips curved in a faint smile, no longer as stern as he had appeared in the frame.

Shen Changle opened his eyes, scanning the group before him, his resolute expression softening.

He was sitting on the ground. Ding Moyan glanced down and noticed deep cuts on his ankles his tendons had been severed. Even as a ghost, the wounds remained.

“Thank you,” Shen Changle said softly, bending to pick up the broken pieces of the frame with a faint smile.

“Mr. Shen, what exactly happened to you before? Why were there Soul-locking frames trapping spirits all over the third floor? And who is the Red-clothed female ghost who hanged herself? Where is she?” Ye Ye asked bluntly.

Shen Changle nodded slowly in understanding. “This story is quite long, so I’ll keep it brief.”

As the mystery was about to unravel, Ding Moyan and the others fell silent, listening to Shen Changle’s account.

“The one who killed me was my adopted son,” Shen Changle said flatly, extending a hand toward Ding Moyan. “May I have a cigarette, please?”

“Ghosts can smoke?” Yu Sisi pulled a cigarette from her pocket and handed it to Shen Changle. It was her aunt’s, she had snatched it away in frustration after discovering her supposedly quit-smoking aunt had started again, never imagining it would come in handy like this.

“I could also invite you to dance, miss. Would you like to see?” Shen Changle tilted his head, lit the cigarette, and curled his lips into a teasing smile.

Yu Sisi awkwardly shuffled closer to Ding Bai, scratching her ear and biting her lip in embarrassment.

Shen Changle took a drag and smiled faintly. “Since we had no children, my husband and I decided to adopt one from an orphanage a few years ago. When we visited, a pair of twins caught our attention, the two in the photo.”

“Originally, I wanted to adopt an infant, but those two were so sweet-tongued they charmed us into agreeing to take them in on impulse,” Shen Changle continued calmly. “We thought it would be fine, but the children were fragile. They often asked if we would stay with them, if we would abandon them. From the orphanage director, we learned they had been adopted three times before, only to be returned each time when the adoptive couples had biological children.”

“They no longer trusted anyone. No matter how much my husband and I reassured them, they refused to believe us. In the end, they lost their minds.”

Shen Changle flicked the ash from his cigarette. “During one argument, my adopted daughter struck my husband’s head with a candlestick, killing him instantly. I had just pushed open the door to that room when it happened.”

“She grinned at me with a sickening smile. Before I could flee, my adopted son, standing behind me, stabbed me. He severed my Achilles tendons, and once I was immobilized, they set the room ablaze and locked the door, leaving me to burn alive here.”

Shen Changle recounted his death in a detached tone, his long, bright eyes devoid of pain, as if he were speaking of someone else’s demise.

“As for the Red-clothed female ghost who hanged herself, she was my adopted daughter. She died on the crooked tree in the front yard.” Shen Changle reclined on the ground, pointing at the cawing crows below, his expression inscrutable. “Do you see those crows?”

“She’s among them.”

“There are so many. How are we supposed to find her?” Ye Ye leaned over the railing, watching the crows cawing wildly below. Spotting the onlookers, the birds grew even more excited, as if eager to fly up and greet the intruders.

Shen Changle exhaled a smoke ring, the pale wisps drifting eerily before him, layering into an uncanny beauty. His bloodless lips parted slightly. “Of course, you could always kill all the crows.”

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