Zhou Kan’s face was ashen, his complexion sickly. He pleaded incessantly with Isabelle Frost, but Isabelle, though equally exhausted, showed no sign of softening. Her eyes burned with grief and rage as she stared at Zhou Kan.
It had been nearly a month. Zhou Kan hadn’t eaten or slept properly since. He’d bought this courtyard years ago by secretly selling Master Yi’s ceramic paintings. When Master Yi found out, Zhou Kan lied, claiming his elderly mother was sick and needed a large sum for treatment.
In the end, Master Yi forgave him and even gave Zhou Kan some money. But in the ten years he’d served as steward to the Yi Family, Zhou Kan had never felt at ease. He longed to live like Master Yi, with the privileges of a lord.
Zhou Kan was never easily satisfied. He’d grown up in poverty, and after learning a few things from a scholar, he’d hoped to secure a minor position under a noble. But things didn’t go as planned—his skills were nothing to the real scholars.
Disheartened and resentful, Zhou Kan barely scraped by, nearly starving at times. His ambitions far exceeded his abilities, and he was close to ruin. One day, he collapsed on the roadside from hunger and was rescued.
His savior was Master Yi. When Zhou Kan awoke, he was overwhelmed with gratitude and promised to serve Master Yi loyally. He soon entered the Yi Family’s manor as a menial worker. It kept him alive, but life was still hard.
For three years, Zhou Kan worked diligently in the Yi Family, eventually rising from menial laborer to steward of the courtyard. He managed repairs and maintenance, and while life improved somewhat, Zhou Kan remained dissatisfied.
Eager to prove himself, Zhou Kan was meticulous in his duties. When the old steward of Yi Manor retired, Zhou Kan’s education and attention to detail earned him the position of head steward.
He held the post for seven years, but now, once again, he felt dissatisfied. A lifetime of service offered no real prospects. Knowing the value of Master Yi’s ceramic paintings, Zhou Kan finally gave in to temptation. Though he managed to cover his tracks, Master Yi did not blame him.
But Zhou Kan refused to remain a servant forever. He began plotting, seeking accomplices to steal from the Yi Family. The plan failed—he couldn’t find anyone suitable.
Zhou Kan’s greatest pleasure was visiting The Velvet Phoenix to indulge himself with women. This expense far exceeded his means. He also gambled, always using visits to his mother as an excuse for his absences.
Once again tempted, Zhou Kan took a ceramic painting from Master Yi’s cabinet. Unlike the others, these were kept locked away, and he’d noticed they weren’t as fine as those on display. Still, even as lesser works, they were Master Yi’s, and could fetch a good price.
Recently, Zhou Kan discovered a secret within one of the ceramic paintings. He was astonished by Master Yi’s true identity, recalling the frequent nighttime visitors whom Master Yi had strictly forbidden anyone, including Zhou Kan, from approaching.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Zhou Kan realized Master Yi was a spy, operating in Liao City to gather intelligence. No wonder Master Yi was so wealthy. Though he’d mentioned the Yi Family’s businesses elsewhere, Zhou Kan had never been shown them.
So Zhou Kan made two plans: he contacted a nearby general, and planned to take Isabelle Frost away on the day of the attack on Yi Manor. With these two preparations, he thought he was safe. Through careful investigation, Zhou Kan learned Master Yi’s superiors in Qiland were powerful figures. Once the Yi Family was destroyed, he could curry favor with both sides.
But now, the general had abandoned him. The credit for the betrayal went to Zhou Kan alone, and he was given only a single gold bar before being dismissed.
In recent days, Zhou Kan disguised himself as a beggar and ventured out. He found many people in Liao City searching for him, and guards posted at the city gates. He was trapped—the truth about his betrayal of the Yi Family had come out.
On the day of the soldiers’ attack, he couldn’t find Isabelle Frost anywhere. He returned later and finally found her, but she seemed to know everything. Now, she hated him with a passion. Zhou Kan’s only hope was to convince her to say he’d saved her—otherwise, he’d surely lose his head.
But Isabelle Frost refused, no matter what. Zhou Kan, exhausted, could do nothing but sit down on the side, defeated.
"Miss, listen to me. If you won’t help me, I’ll sell you to The Velvet Phoenix. You’re so beautiful, you’ll fetch a high price. You’ll spend your life serving men you don’t know. That’s a fate worse than death!"
Zhou Kan glared venomously at Isabelle Frost. But Isabelle knew nothing about The Velvet Phoenix. Zhou Kan realized this, slapping his own forehead in frustration. Everything had been planned, yet it all fell apart at the last step. He still couldn’t understand why.
But Zhou Kan didn’t notice that Isabelle Frost’s gaze sometimes drifted—not to him, but to the Ghost Painting Book Immortal, who remained in the room.
The Ghost Painting Book Immortal was silent and withdrawn. At night, when Zhou Kan slept, he would speak with Isabelle Frost, but she refused to answer, still resenting his cold indifference to her suffering.
Zhou Kan kept pondering what to do next. His eyes lit up with excitement as he looked at Isabelle Frost.
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"Miss, I’m going to contact The Velvet Phoenix right now. You’d better think carefully. If you won’t help me, I’ll sell you."
Zhou Kan made up his mind. Rather than dragging this burden along, he’d sell Isabelle Frost and use the gold bar to bribe someone at the gambling den to help him escape Liao City. If he could just get out, he’d have enough money to survive.
Zhou Kan quickly put on his disguise and left the courtyard.
At that moment, the Ghost Painting Book Immortal moved his hand, and the cloth gag on Isabelle Frost’s mouth came loose. She tried to scream, but found she couldn’t make a sound.
"Hating me won’t help, Yvette. Forcibly changing the fate of someone in the Living World means the Divine Law will hold me accountable. That includes your situation. I can save you, but you’re cursed now—just like your parents. Even if I intervened, they’d still die. The best moment has passed. I have to wait until the curse fades before I can help you. Otherwise, the Divine Law will crush me."
Isabelle Frost said nothing in response to the Ghost Painting Book Immortal. She couldn’t understand why, after treating him as a friend, he had refused to help her.
"You still don’t understand, Yvette. I really can’t help you. It’s not that I don’t want to, but you’re already dying. If anyone interferes, the Divine Law will punish them. I’m just a lowly Specter—I couldn’t bear it."
At night, Zhou Kan returned, exhausted. Isabelle Frost’s mouth was gagged again. After freeing her, Zhou Kan tried to feed her, but she refused every bite. Her breathing was now dangerously weak.
"Miss, aren’t you hungry?"
Zhou Kan brought back some roasted meat, drinking by himself. Isabelle Frost stubbornly tilted her head, silent and defiant. Two days had passed—she’d only had a little water, refusing all food. Zhou Kan grew anxious, angrily yanked her hair, forced her mouth open, and stuffed the crushed food inside.
With a cry, Zhou Kan slapped her. Isabelle Frost whimpered, sobbing softly as Zhou Kan stared at his own fingers.
"I’m begging you, Miss. Please eat something."
Earlier today, Zhou Kan had planned to visit The Velvet Phoenix and meet his old flame. But he was told someone had offered a large reward for news of his whereabouts. Without hesitation, Zhou Kan killed his old lover and fled.
Utterly exhausted, Zhou Kan decided to numb himself with alcohol. He was powerless now, and even began to regret his greed. He missed his old life, but his only lifeline could break at any moment. If Isabelle Frost died, he’d lose his last chance at survival.
Zhou Kan knew those working behind the scenes were ruthless. If he was caught, he’d be skinned alive—and not given an easy death.
"Miss, tell me—what’s the point of living in this world? Ha!"
Zhou Kan was drunk. Isabelle Frost’s eyes closed, her head spinning. She no longer cared about anything. A faint smile appeared on her face, as if she saw her parents. She’d given up on survival—if she refused food, she’d soon be reunited with them.
The Ghost Painting Book Immortal watched Isabelle Frost quietly. It was late. For the first time, a ripple of emotion stirred in him—he couldn’t bear to see the little girl die like this.