Chapter 27: Su Liumeng’s Terrifyingly Meticulous Mind

Description

I’d replied far too quickly—so quickly that Su Liumeng suddenly started thinking maybe she was just being overly paranoid.

All those unnecessary assumptions… probably just overthinking again.

The truth is, most things in this world aren’t all that complicated.

It’s just that she had a habit of analyzing everything—especially after the harsh training she received from the Su family.

She couldn’t help but dissect people’s behavior, just like the way she’d dissect human nature.

And right now, my answer only confirmed the suspicions she’d just begun forming.

“There were three people in total. The first two were mysterious, and the last one was just a brief encounter.”

I wasn’t trying to lie—just withholding the finer details.

Su Liumeng looked a little troubled upon hearing that.

“…Alright. Get some rest. I’ve got something I need to take care of anyway.”

She could see the fatigue in my expression and had planned to leave so I could sleep, but the flicker of surprise in my eyes—she caught it all.

The moment she took a step, she paused and silently stepped back.

“Wow, no wonder you’re in such a good mood. So this is what’s going on—flirting and romance, huh?”

“Looks like you don’t need me for now.”

The ghost fetus spoke in a tone dripping with sarcasm.

She’d woken up, wanting to check in on my emotional state that afternoon, only to see Su Liumeng stuffing a mountain of snacks into my cabinet.

That image… for some reason, made her feel incredibly irritated.

Her words were laced with sour jealousy.

She didn’t fully understand her own emotions yet.

All she knew was, if I had someone else I liked, the attention I gave her would surely be divided.

That was unacceptable to her.

In the depths of the not-yet-formed spirit sea, a phantom figure of a little girl sat in the corner, clenching her tiny fists.

“Hmph! Bad person.”

She glared at Su Liumeng with unconcealed hostility—and then turned that same scowl toward me.

“You’re bad too! Who wants to talk to you anyway? Just stay in the dorm and be a little wall lamp forever!”

The ghostly girl suddenly stomped her foot in frustration, then crouched down in a sulky pout.

She meant to punish me more severely.

That sarcastic little jab just now?

That was supposed to be the lightest of her scoldings.

But for some reason… she just couldn’t bring herself to truly get mad at me.

So it ended up as that pouty, almost aggrieved little grumble instead.

“N-No… I didn’t…”

Startled by her sudden voice in my mind, I broke into a cold sweat on the spot.

She could get mad over this?

If there’s one being I absolutely can’t afford to upset—it’s this little ancestral ghost child.

Unlike the ghost fetus’s telepathy, I could only respond to her aloud.

Even though I’d spoken in a whisper…

Su Liumeng still heard me.

Who was I talking to?

Ripples flickered across Su Liumeng’s eyes.

All the ancient texts she’d ever read seemed to resurface in her mind, flipping through themselves one after another.

She suddenly had the urge to overturn all the conclusions she had drawn up to now.

Without a word, Su Liumeng sat down in a chair nearby.

The moment I saw that, my head started pounding.

Why aren’t you leaving?

Why are you still here?

My belly remained calm—no response at all.

It felt like I was shouting into a void.

Not a single echo came back.

My heart gave a sharp tremor.

There are levels to emotional coldness.

And this ancestor’s version of the silent treatment?

That’s the real deal.

The cold aura radiating from her could probably freeze a person to death.

I never want to experience that soul-crushing cold again.

Deep within my spiritual sea—

The ghost fetus, her figure faint and childlike, only about four or five years old, was idly tracing circles with her tiny fingertip along the surface of the gently rippling waters.

She was reflecting on her own attitude.

Have I been too soft on her lately?

She could feel it—this growing closeness to me.

But she couldn’t explain why.

And that troubled her deeply.

Meanwhile, Su Liumeng continued to watch me in silence.

Of course I knew exactly what she was doing.

After all those years we’d spent together, she always watched people like this—from the shadows.

Having Su Liumeng as your enemy… is hands down one of the scariest things in the world.

There’s a saying:

“Speak too much and you’re bound to slip up.”

At this point, I was seriously worried she’d figure out even the color of my underwear today.

Suddenly, a chilling thought crossed my mind—

If Su Liumeng ever turned yandere, she’d be the scariest one in existence.

No weakness.

Total suffocation. Enough to drive someone mad.

Thank god she’d always been pretty normal.

Su Liumeng blinked those big, pretty eyes at me.

I rolled mine at her, giving her a look of pure exasperation.

She only smiled even more sweetly, her crescent-shaped eyes sparkling.

I didn’t say anything else. Just reached out my hand—and forcibly shoved her out of the dorm room.

Su Liumeng left without resisting.

As she exited, she wore a faint smile, as if still savoring my little outburst from just now.

As for the ghost fetus being upset—honestly, I had no idea what the problem even was.

Could it really just be because I’m considering starting a relationship?

What does that have to do with her?

That said… no matter what, I could only try to coax her, treating this little princess like she was made of glass.

After a solid hour of groveling—until my mouth was dry and my voice hoarse—she finally said her first words to me again.

“…You meanie.”

“What’s your relationship with that girl?”

“Just friends,” I finally exhaled in relief, thinking, This little ancestor sure is hard to please.

The ghost fetus curled herself back into a little ball. After fidgeting for a while, she finally mustered up the courage to ask the question:

“Now that you have her… are you going to forget about me?”

She hadn’t been “born” for long—at heart, she was still just a child.

After blurting it out, she couldn’t help but roll over dramatically on the floor.

Hmph!

What am I even saying?

Whether she cares about me or not… it’s not like it matters.

It’s not like I ever cared, anyway.

Suddenly, the ghost fetus sprang back up, her tiny face regaining its usual icy chill.

She convinced herself once more: I was just asking for the heck of it.

I’m the invincible Ghost King.

I ask what I want.

What’s it got to do with anyone else?

To summarize her mindset in one sentence:

So what!

“I would never,” I said with all the sincerity I could muster.

“You’ll always be my most important little one. No matter who else comes into my life, you’ll always come first.”

My arms broke out in goosebumps from my own cheesy words.

I was cringing inside—yet this was exactly the kind of thing the ghost fetus liked to hear.

I could feel her mood instantly lift.

“Who cares who you’re close with,” she said with a slight upward curl to her lips.

“Whether you’re good friends with someone else, or whatever else… it’s got nothing to do with me.”

Her words might’ve been tsundere and standoffish, but there was something oddly light and cheerful about them.

She thought to herself again:

This might not be so bad.

Having someone to chat with when I’m bored… might make everything feel a little better.

I wouldn’t have to keep pausing my development just to check on her either.

Besides, I’m the most important one anyway…

With that, the ghost fetus quieted down once more, slipping into her deepest level of sleep.

Once I sensed it, I collapsed face-down on the bed, completely drained.

Out of habit, I picked up my phone and glanced at the screen.

Only one message, from Su Liumeng:

[I’ve gone back.]

[If you don’t want to stay in the dorm, or if it’s inconvenient, you can move in with me.]

I looked around the empty dorm room with its two bare beds, then typed a reply.

[No need.]

There were four names registered for this dorm room.

The other two, apparently freshmen from the acting department, hadn’t shown up even once since school started—not even for military training.

Talk about each immortal showing off their own magic.

I muttered inwardly.

That afternoon, military training was in full swing.

Standing by the dormitory window, I could clearly hear the thunderous chants echoing from outside.

I opened one side of my suitcase and pulled out a jet-black business card.

Su Liumeng was from the Su family, and anything she’d learned was surely top-secret—techniques that couldn’t be casually passed on to outsiders.

But that woman, Suyi, had managed to discern parts of my secret.

She had to be someone from the world of cultivation too.

I’d always been yearning to cultivate myself.

Could I use Suyi as a channel to obtain that opportunity?

And if so… what would it cost me?

I tucked the card carefully into my clothes, close to my skin, but didn’t dial the number right away.

After changing into my pajamas, I lay down and drifted off into sleep.

Meanwhile, in Villa One.

Su Liumeng sat at her desk, scribbling furiously on paper.

The page was covered in dense notes—every detail of Xi Xinyan’s movements over the past few months.

It looked like a web, meticulously drawn to unravel and isolate her every action.

Xi Xinyan had deliberately avoided security cameras in her daily movements.

As a result, large swaths of her timeline were blank.

The only way to fill the gaps was by cross-referencing clues from before and after each date to deduce what she might’ve been doing.

Ever since Su Liumeng accepted that Xi Xinyan was Jiuyan, she no longer intended to keep treating her like just anyone else.

Every time she thought about someone hurting Jiuyan this deeply, she could barely restrain the murderous itch in her fingers—itching to drag that person into the light and rip them apart.

On her computer screen, surveillance footage of Xi Xinyan played in a continuous loop.

She watched it with full concentration.

And finally, she was able to confirm it—

The shift in Xi Xinyan had happened sometime in August.

But from mid-August onward, there was barely any surveillance footage available.

The best she could determine was that the change occurred after August 10th.

That… completely contradicted her earlier assumptions.

Could it be…

A bold thought suddenly surged to the forefront of Su Liumeng’s mind—

Could Xi Xinyan have gotten pregnant in just a few short days… and somehow progressed instantly to the point of forming a fetal heartbeat?

All unnatural phenomena are always connected to the cultivation world.

Could Xi Xinyan’s transformation also be tied to one of those events?

After all, this vast world is full of the strange and extraordinary—anything is possible.

Su Liumeng continued scribbling on the paper, crossing out the name of the “scumbag” again, only to write it back moments later.

What really happened…?

Eventually, she set her pen down and stood up from her seat.

There were simply too few clues—so few that even she, the most outstanding contender among the Su family’s current generation, was unable to deduce the final answer.

Su Liumeng began pacing the room.

If such a man did exist, then there must be some lingering connection between him and Xi Xinyan.

But on the flip side…

If there was no such man—if Xi Xinyan had somehow miraculously conceived via parthenogenesis—then could every current assumption be turned upside down?

A daring theory suddenly formed in Su Liumeng’s mind.

Then, just as quickly, she dismissed it with a bitter laugh, mocking herself for going crazy.

What kind of absurd nonsense am I even thinking?

How could something like that possibly exist?

Su Liumeng had never racked her brain this hard in her entire life.

She could only blame it on the one girl who had now taken over her thoughts completely—that fragile yet resilient figure who had imprinted herself in every corner of her heart.