Chapter Eighteen: Uncontainable Tension

In the funeral hall, candlelight flickered, casting a thoughtful glow upon Qu Wanqing’s face. That sudden surge of power lingered in her mind like an unsolved riddle.

“This golden opportunity came so unexpectedly...” she murmured to herself, instinctively clenching her fist, sensing a certain force stirring within her.

Jiang Yu scanned the surroundings warily. The oppressive atmosphere in the hall was suffocating. He had the uneasy feeling that something lurked in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.

“This place… something’s very wrong,” he whispered, his eyes heavy with concern.

Suddenly, a figure appeared at the doorway, shattering the eerie silence. It was Master Qin, his face stern, followed by Taoist Liu and Granny Ma, both wearing smug expressions.

“Madam Qu, please leave the funeral hall!” Master Qin’s tone was firm, clearly having been swayed by Taoist Liu’s slander.

“Your presence here only disrupts the order of the hall!”

Qu Wanqing raised an eyebrow slightly—Master Qin truly was an old-fashioned relic.

“Master Qin, I came here to uncover the truth, not to cause trouble,” she replied calmly and confidently. “Surely you want to know what has actually happened in this funeral hall?”

“Truth? Hmph!” Master Qin snorted coldly. “Taoist Liu has already explained—this is all because of you. You are a harbinger of disaster!”

Qu Wanqing gave a cold laugh. Taoist Liu was truly skilled at twisting facts.

“Master Qin, as a respected local official, how can you take the word of a charlatan from the martial world at face value?” she shot back without hesitation. “Do you really believe in ghosts and spirits?”

“You...” Master Qin was momentarily speechless, his face flushing red.

The crowd began to murmur, some siding with Taoist Liu, others supporting Qu Wanqing. The tension in the hall grew palpable, like drawn swords ready to strike.

“Enough!” Qu Wanqing’s sharp voice cut through the unrest, silencing everyone. “Since I’ve come, I will not leave so easily! I want to see what secrets this funeral hall is hiding!” Her gaze was fierce, fixed unwaveringly on Master Qin, resolute.

Jiang Yu looked at Qu Wanqing with a flicker of admiration.

He lightly brushed his sleeve, as if about to say something...

### Chapter 18: Whispered Secrets in the Funeral Hall, Hidden Desires Unleashed

“Enough!” Qu Wanqing’s commanding voice echoed again, quelling the murmurs. “Since I’m here, I shall not leave so easily! I want to see what secrets lie within this funeral hall!” Her eyes burned like flames as she stared down Master Qin, her determination unshaken.

Jiang Yu regarded Qu Wanqing with a glint of approval.

He gently patted his sleeve and suddenly produced a scroll, unrolling it slowly.

“Master Qin, perhaps you haven’t seen these before,” he said calmly, each word striking the crowd like a hammer blow.

The scroll detailed strange occurrences recently happening in the hall: candles extinguishing suddenly, offerings inexplicably disappearing, and repeated eerie noises.

As the crowd examined the evidence, their chatter gradually subsided.

Master Qin’s expression faltered as he studied Jiang Yu’s proof.

“These…” he murmured, clearly shaken by the undeniable facts.

At that moment, Qu Wanqing’s eyes sharpened. She noticed Taoist Liu’s sleeve trembling slightly—a sign of guilt.

“Master Qin, take another look at Taoist Liu,” she said coldly. “His sleeve just moved—he’s clearly hiding something.”

All eyes turned to Taoist Liu, whose face drained of color, beads of sweat forming on his brow.

“I… what’s wrong with me?” he stammered, his voice wavering, confidence evaporating.

A faint smile curved Qu Wanqing’s lips, her gaze icy.

Stepping forward, she suddenly grabbed Taoist Liu’s sleeve and gave a sharp tug. A clatter followed as counterfeit talismans and cheap props spilled onto the floor.

“Taoist Liu, your robes are nothing but a sham. Hidden in your sleeve are fake talismans and worthless trinkets,” she exposed him boldly, her voice ringing with authority.

The crowd erupted in uproar: some angrily confronted Taoist Liu, others marveled at Qu Wanqing’s insight.

Taoist Liu’s face turned deathly pale, lips trembling, eyes wide as though facing the end of the world. He tried to flee, but his legs buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor.

The spectators cast looks of admiration toward Qu Wanqing and disdain mixed with anger at Taoist Liu.

Master Qin watched the scene unfold, his resolve wavering.

“Madam Qu, what you said… is it true?” His voice was laced with complexity, doubts creeping in.

Qu Wanqing offered a slight, confident smile.

“There is only one truth, Master Qin. I hope you can discern right from wrong.” With that, she strolled toward another corner, searching for something.

Jiang Yu followed, gently smoothing the strands of hair disturbed on her head, whispering, “You did well tonight. In this funeral hall, you are the brightest star.” His tone was tender, yet in the stillness of the hall, it stirred deep feelings.

Qu Wanqing felt a warmth in her heart, a subtle smile playing at her lips, yet she said nothing more, pressing onward, leaving behind a lingering atmosphere and endless imaginings.

Jiang Yu trailed behind her, his fingertips brushing her cheek ever so lightly.

That inadvertent touch was like an electric current, coursing instantly through Qu Wanqing’s body.

Her cheeks flushed faintly, her gaze shy yet tinged with a barely perceptible joy.

In the dim glow of the funeral hall, an indescribable intimacy blossomed between them.

Seeing Qu Wanqing’s bashful expression, Jiang Yu’s heart stirred, a sudden impulse rising within him.

He instinctively leaned closer, their breaths mingling, the air around them suddenly charged with heat.

At that moment, a low sobbing shattered the tender atmosphere.

“Waaah…” The sound came in broken waves, echoing from deep within the hall.

Qu Wanqing and Jiang Yu instantly became alert, exchanging a glance before silently moving toward the source.

The crying grew clearer until they found Taoist Liu curled up in a corner.

He sat on the floor, hands covering his face, sobbing like a child.

“What are you doing?!” Jiang Yu snapped, irritation lacing his voice.

That Taoist Liu truly was a lingering ghost!

Lifting his head, Taoist Liu’s face was terror-stricken. Pointing into the depths of the hall, he stammered, “Gh-g-ghost…”

Jiang Yu sneered, dismissing it as theatrics and was about to expose the ruse when a powerful spiritual force washed over him.

This energy was unlike any he had felt before—far stronger—causing his heart to tighten.

He whirled to look at Qu Wanqing, whose face had turned grave, her eyes shimmering with an eerie light.

She seemed to sense the force even more vividly than he did.

“It’s coming…” Qu Wanqing whispered, a faint tremor betraying her calm.

Jiang Yu clenched his fist, stepping protectively in front of her, eyes scanning the hall’s depths. His voice was low and steady: “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”

The air suddenly stiffened; the candles flickered violently with a crackling sound.

A chilling aura spread, sending shivers down the spine.

In the darkness, something seemed to be slowly approaching...

Qu Wanqing gripped Jiang Yu’s hand, her fingertips ice-cold.