"What exactly does that mean?"
I quietly gazed at Wraithshade. He looked at me with a hint of amusement in his eyes.
"Everyone has a past, Ethan Zhang. You just said that this past version of me was the moment in thousands of years when I showed emotion. That's an interesting way to put it. Keep watching—I want to hear your thoughts. For this fleeting moment, as an exchange, I'll tell you something."
I silently watched Wraithshade as everything around us, which had been frozen, returned to normal.
Irene Yi sat quietly. She and Wraithshade hadn’t spoken for hours. What puzzled her most was the sunlight warming her body—at noon, it felt just like morning.
"Mr. Wood, why is it like this? It felt just as warm a few days ago when I was in the bath."
"This is a necessary process to restore your soul. Because your three souls are incomplete, you’ve felt cold and anxious all these years. Before you were born, a ghost took a bite out of you."
Irene Yi blinked and smiled at Wraithshade. Though she’d heard stories about ghosts and spirits, she’d never seen one herself. She shook her head.
"Can you show me, Mr. Wood? What does a ghost look like?"
Wraithshade said nothing, choosing silence. The long day finally neared its end as the slanting sunlight pierced through. For Irene Yi, these days felt like torment—almost like imprisonment, maybe even worse.
"Mr. Wraithshade, tomorrow it ends, doesn't it?"
Wraithshade nodded. After sunset, Irene Yi returned to her chamber, exhaustion etched across her face. She lay down and closed her eyes, surrendering to the darkness.
Wraithshade gripped a thick brush and a small bucket filled with viscous black fluid. In the courtyard, he began painting the formation, each stroke deliberate and foreboding.
After an hour, a massive circular array emerged in the courtyard's center. The final step would begin at six in the morning.
Then, Wraithshade dipped a fine brush into crimson liquid and inscribed dense, intricate red sigils across the array.
As the moon rose, Poison Dreadstar finally returned.
"Did you find anything?"
"Their ancestors were beggars."
Poison Dreadstar had barely finished speaking when a cold smile flickered in Wraithshade's eyes.
"I thought so. According to the calendar's divination, the Zou family’s fortunes only began to improve in the last generation. How many lifetimes back was that beggar ancestor?"