Damien Gray took the small bottle into his hand, his slender fingers gently caressing its surface as he spoke softly, "You lost her, didn't you?" With a casual wave, Damien dismissed them, "You may leave."
Maxwell Jing and Ethan Gu both looked grave, disbelief flickering in their eyes. If the Scent Tracker Beetle had suddenly gone silent, Morgan Shangguan must have discovered the Tracking Perfume—and she had actually shaken off the shadow guards!
Damien Gray's face still wore a warm smile, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. This woman was provoking him!
Morgan Shangguan walked alone down the street, a faint smile on her lips. Perhaps declaring war on Damien Gray right now wasn't the wisest move, but she was genuinely curious just how capable he truly was.
Dressed in flowing white, ethereal as a fairy, her stunning beauty and gentle smile drew every gaze. Yet, though she seemed so close, she felt worlds away—an invisible barrier separated her from those around her. Even standing before her, she was untouchable. That smile, beautiful as it was, always carried a hint of distance and dreaminess. Perhaps this was the gap between mortals and immortals.
For a moment, everyone who paused could not help but sigh with admiration.
Morgan Shangguan seemed oblivious to the stares around her, leisurely admiring the small stalls along the street. She was long accustomed to such attention.
Ever since Lillian Shang made that decision, this was the first time Morgan Shangguan felt so relaxed. Perhaps coming to this world was truly a blessing.
Suddenly, Morgan sensed a gaze unlike any other upon her. She looked up to see the second-floor window of a nearby tavern slightly ajar. She couldn’t see the person inside, but they could see her clearly. She could feel the curiosity in that stare.
Morgan glanced casually, then withdrew her gaze, letting out a soft laugh and a sigh. The original Morgan Shangguan had been timid and indifferent, never caring for such matters, and yet she was inevitably drawn into the whirlpool of power struggles. For that, she really had her "dear" sister to thank for passing the political marriage onto her!
If the Little Reaper hadn’t fetched the wrong soul, Morgan Shangguan likely wouldn’t have survived long. Damien Gray, that sly fox, was never someone she could handle!
She glanced at the tavern beside her, realizing she was a bit hungry. But it seemed she’d forgotten to bring any silver.
Morgan Shangguan smiled and stepped inside. The waiter, seeing her elegant attire and stunning looks, guessed she must be a wealthy young lady and hurried to greet her, afraid to show any neglect.
This was the capital, filled with dignitaries and nobles. Every tavern, shop, even brothel had powerful backers—otherwise, survival was impossible. Still, with business to run, no one dared offend a guest lightly. After all, you never knew when you’d cross someone truly untouchable.
The waiter led Morgan Shangguan straight to a private room on the second floor, clearly treating her as a distinguished guest. Morgan wore a gentle smile, but couldn’t help wondering what the waiter’s face would look like if he knew she was penniless.
In another private room, Prince Ethan raised his wine cup and drained it, then toyed with the empty glass. A refined smile appeared on his face as he chuckled, "Interesting, truly interesting!"
The guard behind him asked, "Your Highness, is that woman Morgan Shangguan? Why would the Ghost King let her out? Did she notice us just now?"
No woman who enters the Ghost King’s manor ever leaves standing—usually, after a day or two, they’re carried out. But this woman was strolling the streets, bold as could be, and all alone. With looks like that, wasn’t she afraid of trouble? And just now, that glance—she’d clearly noticed someone watching her.
Prince Ethan set down his glass, amusement in his voice. "Lucas Yan, perhaps this woman might survive three days after all."
Lucas Yan poured him another drink and asked, "Your Highness seems quite interested in her. Would you like to meet her?"
"No need. If she survives three days, perhaps then I'll be interested in meeting her."
His third royal brother might appear harmless, but always gave off an air of danger. Even if he never crossed the line, it was impossible to feel at ease around him. The crown prince was growing anxious too—after all, their father’s attitude toward the third prince was ambiguous, seeming both wary and oddly affectionate.
Ultimately, the struggle for the throne was between the three of them; the other two princes were still too young to matter.
Though the crown prince was chosen, their father's attitude remained unpredictable. By rights, Damien Gray’s sickly appearance should have excluded him, but their father's behavior made it impossible to ignore him.
That old fox! Always muddling things and keeping everyone guessing. No wonder Crown Prince Adrian was losing his composure!
Morgan Shangguan sat alone in the private room, eating and drinking. Her eyes swept out the window, seeing Prince Ethan leave with his guards. She calmly withdrew her gaze, finished her meal, elegantly wiped her mouth, and then leapt straight out the window. With a few swift jumps, she vanished. When the waiter came in to ask if she needed anything, he found the room empty.
Staring at the table full of expensive dishes, the waiter was on the verge of tears. Not a single coin received!
As night fell, Morgan Shangguan leisurely made her way back to the Ghost King's Manor. Passing a narrow alley, she heard the clashing of weapons, but felt no interest.
Suddenly, a cold wind swept through. Morgan paused, thinking she ought to send word to her grandfather—otherwise, the old man would worry and might recklessly rush into the mortal world again.
"No..." The woman's voice was filled with despair.
Morgan stepped into the alley just in time to see a righteous, handsome man in his thirties stabbed in the chest and falling to his knees.
Four men in black, their faces covered by ghostly masks, quickly departed. Their task was to kill the man, so they paid no attention to the crying, desperate woman.
The Little Reaper waiting nearby swiftly extracted the man's soul and prepared to leave.
Morgan hurriedly called out, "Wait!"
The Little Reaper stared at her in astonishment, pointed at his own nose, and hesitantly asked, "You... can see me?"