Chapter 91 If You Huo Knew… Would he feel excited and pleased? Or would he punch him?

The duke had only gone to the butler’s bedroom to comfort that pig, and when he returned to his room, he noticed something was amiss.

The bed curtains were wrinkled, revealing a corner and a glimpse of the dark space under the bed.

That was his forbidden zone!

“Elisa?” The duke slowly approached, kneeling down by the bedside.

Under the bed, it was empty. The deep red box had disappeared without a trace.

His Aisha was gone!

“Who?!” The duke was exceptionally furious, his eyes turning red.

Suddenly, a short laugh sounded from behind.

The duke suddenly turned his head and saw someone sitting on the windowsill, not knowing when they had arrived.

“Ah… it’s you. You’re here again?” The duke tried to slow his breathing, making his tone appear flirtatious and disdainful. “Today’s visitors are truly persistent. Even knowing they’ll fail, they insist on trying again and again.”

Qin Jiu said, “This time is different.”

“How is it different?”

“I went to find that witch doctor, using a slightly underhanded method.” Qin Jiu leisurely left them in suspense. “Guess what he told me?”

“What?”

The duke’s expression changed, his eyes narrowing as he stared at him.

Qin Jiu went to the dungeon, then found the priest, asking each of them how to kill the duke.

The answers the two gave were surprisingly consistent.

One is cunning and sly, the other is out of their mind. Qin Jiu didn’t plan to fully trust either of them, so he came to trick the Duke.

The Duke was suspicious by nature; if he could do something to make him panic, extracting information would become much easier.

So Qin Jiu hid the lady under the bed.

Tilting his head, Qin Jiu jumped down from the windowsill and said without fear, “What do you think?”

The duke stared at him unblinkingly, then laughed again after a long while: “Don’t try to scare me. I won’t die, I’ll never die.”

“Oh, you’re so sure of that?” Qin Jiu said.

He looked confident and extremely calm. It was so convincing that the duke began to waver between belief and doubt.

“I’m absolutely certain.” He frowned slightly.

Qin Jiu laughed: “Are you perhaps misunderstanding the character of the witch doctor? A…madman who’s neither human nor ghost, teaching others dark arts.”

“Of course I know,” the Duke replied with a scornful smile. “Do you think I’m a fool? Allowing someone who could threaten me at any moment to stay alive? I, of course, have a backup plan. Everything he knows, I know, and everything he can do, I can do as well.”

Qin Jiu raised a book from behind his back: “Do you mean this? You made a copy of his book of witchcraft.”

The Duke swiftly glanced under the bed.

“Look, this is what the shaman also told me,” Qin Jiu said.

Actually, he had only vaguely guessed that the Duke also possessed a book while interrogating the witch doctor, and then deduced the most likely place he would hide it—right under Alisa’s chest.

No one dared to touch the Duchess, and so, no one could lay a finger on that book.

The Duke sneered coldly, “You’re just guessing.”

His neck twitched nervously twice, as if his head was being disobedient again.

“Not only that, he also told me, about the things between you and him…” Qin Jiu paused, speaking slowly, “You’re very nervous.”

Leaving a sentence half-finished!

The Duke cursed in his heart, but it was undeniable—Qin Jiu’s words had indeed made him tense.

Because the other person seemed to truly know a lot.

Faint, bustling voices began to echo through the ancient castle, and the duke’s expression darkened even further.

Qin Jiu pointed toward the main door and said, “Do you need me to loudly explain your situation with him to the people outside? Perhaps your manservants, or others with certain interests, might remember it, and then—”

“Enough!” The duke’s face turned cold.

Qin Jiu chuckled, shaking the book in his hand as he said, “See? You’re not really fearless after all. Hiding this book—wasn’t it precisely for this reason?”

The corners of the Duke’s mouth twitched, and his expression grew increasingly unpleasant.

In fact, everything Qin Jiu had just said was made up on the spot—of course, even fabrications needed a foundation to stand on.

The Duke had replicated the book of witchcraft to understand the resurrection spell on himself, but why hadn’t he destroyed it after figuring it out? Why not burn it like the witch doctor had? That way, he’d never have to worry about anyone else seeing it.

Since he kept this book, it means he still needs it.

On the other hand, as he said himself, the Witch Doctor’s existence constantly threatens him—so why does he tolerate keeping the other alive? He even treats him with respect, keeping a respectful distance.

Unless…for some reason, he doesn’t dare to kill him, or he cannot kill him.

He guessed that there was a deep connection between the Duke and the Witch Doctor, such as life and death.

The witch doctor helped the steward resurrect the duke, so it’s impossible for them to unconditionally place their own life and death in the hands of another.

Therefore, this connection is one-sided, or rather, the loss is one-sided.

If the witch doctor dies, the duke cannot survive.

But if the duke dies, the witch doctor will remain unharmed.

“You cannot kill me,” the Duke continued to insist.

Qin Jiu approached him step by step: “Why can’t it be done? The book is in my hands, I’ve read everything I needed to see.”

In this book of sorcery, the source of resurrection is referred to as the host.

The method to kill the host is depicted in a drawing: a person holds a knife against the host, the blade tip mere millimeters from the heart, and the host willingly offers no resistance.

Before the Duke returned, Qin Jiu had looked over that drawing again and again—it was essentially the same as what the witch doctor had described.

The duke’s reaction just now at least confirms that this book is genuine.

Then he might as well give it a try.

* * *

Outside the window, dark clouds gathered thickly; it should have been daytime, yet it was indistinguishable from night.

Zhou Qi’s fever broke in the early morning, but his complexion remained quite poor, and his mind was unsettled.

Zhao Jiatong couldn’t resist asking her, “Bad dream?”

Zhou Qi nodded, “Mm.”

“I heard you talking in your sleep.”

“Yeah… I had a bunch of chaotic nightmares,” Zhou Qi said. “Dreamt about my boyfriend dragging me along, running nonstop like we were in a battle royale. Then he suddenly fell, dropping far behind in an instant. When I turned around to grab him… a bunch of hands holding knives were trying to slash at us.”

As Zhou Qi continued, her face grew even paler: “He shielded me, all those knives…they all landed on him, all over his body, just blood everywhere. My hands and clothes were covered in his blood.”

Zhao Jiatong quickly poured a glass of water and patted her back, saying, “There, there, it was just a dream…ah.”

Gao Qi, however, stared out the window, his brow furrowed tightly, and he remained silent.

Suddenly, a chorus of wailing and crying—a mix of men, women, old, and young—echoed through the corridor.

Zhou Qi’s fingers trembled, causing her to tip over her cup as she asked blankly, “What was that noise?”

“Oh no!” Zhao Jiatong scrambled to her feet. “Those shadows on the wall are back!”

“What shadows?”

Zhou Qi had been running a fever all night and hadn’t witnessed the ferocious appearance of those dark silhouettes.

But there’s no time to explain everything in detail to her now.

Gao Qi scrambled up: “Wasn’t it said that the duke only appears when he’s extremely weak or on the verge of death?”

“Exactly!”

“Who went to kill the duke again?”

Zhao Jiatong furrowed her brow and said, “No way, everyone knows that killing too many will bring the curse upon A and 001. How could anyone dare to—”

She suddenly stopped, exchanging a glance with Gao Qi.

Gao Qi wiped his face and let out a curse: “Shit!”

Others wouldn’t do it, but who knows if those two might just go crazy themselves!

They rushed out the door.

Originally planning to have Yang Shu and Zhou Qi stay inside the room, before they could even speak, the two women had already followed them out.

The corridor was filled with examinees, all holding up their phone lights to chase and illuminate the shadows.

Gao Qi and Zhao Jiatong tried to push through the crowd and head straight downstairs, but suddenly they heard Zhou Qi’s trembling voice say, “Sister Zhao… Sister Zhao… I…”

“What’s wrong?” Zhao Jiatong called out.

Zhou Qi said, “I think I heard… Jiang Yuan’s voice.”

Her dark eyes were wide open, fixed on a certain stone wall. Her tightly clenched hands were trembling uncontrollably, causing even her eyelashes to quiver.

It seemed that if she blinked even once, the tears would start flowing.

Zhao Jiatong abruptly stopped in her tracks. “What’s that sound? Who is Jiang Yuan?”

Zhou Qi forced her eyes open wide, holding back the tears.

She whispered softly, “My boyfriend… in the crying, I think I hear my boyfriend’s voice.”

Zhao Jiatong fell silent instantly.

She said, “That’s not possible, Xiao Zhou. It can’t be. It must be the nightmare affecting you…”

“Really… Sister Zhao, I really heard it.” Zhou Qi whispered.

Zhao Jiatong wanted to say something more, but Gao Qi nudged her.

She turned and shot Gao Qi a glare, then suddenly understood something from the look in his eyes.

Just a few steps away, the stone wall suddenly emitted crackling sounds of splitting.

After being tormented over a dozen times throughout the night, with those shadowy figures going crazy each time, it finally seemed unable to endure much more.

Dozens of phone flashlights shone on the cracks, and suddenly, a large piece of the stone fell off.

When it hit the ground, everyone realized that the surface layer of the stone wall was very thin, as if a shell had been placed over the wall.

Gao Qi shouted, “Stay back, don’t get hit!”

No sooner had he spoken than someone screamed in horror, “What the hell is this?!”

The dark shadow was still struggling, the wailing continued, even growing more intense, because all the light was focused on the screaming person.

That examinee stumbled back several steps, his voice cracking with fear: “There’s someone in the wall! Look!”

There really were people in the wall.

No, to be precise, not people, but human limbs.

Arms, legs, hands, feet, and heads… Pale grey limbs were embedded in the stone wall. As more and more of the rocky shell peeled away, they finally… fell down one by one.

Everyone froze for a moment before screaming and scrambling out of the way.

In just a few minutes, the entire corridor became a living hell.

Zhao Jiatong finally understood where the stench Zhou Qi had mentioned came from.

A severed head with wide-open eyes rolled to her feet; even as someone born in the military, she was thoroughly shaken.

Everyone, including Zhao Jiatong and Gao Qi, instinctively stepped back.

Only Zhou Qi was an exception.

Her eyes fixed on one spot, she staggered toward it.

“What are you doing, Xiao Zhou?” Zhao Jiatong tried to grab her but missed.

Zhou Qi finally fell flat on her face, right in front of the very thing she had been searching for.

It was the upper half of a torso, dressed in a blue-gray checkered short-sleeved shirt, with large bloodstains at the collar that extended all the way down to the chest. On the left chest, there was a pocket with a mischievous button—a shining bear’s head—clearly swapped by someone as a joke.

The arm exposed from the sleeve was deathly pale, like a mannequin’s prosthetic limb in a shopping mall.

Zhou Qi forgot to get up, sitting there in a daze while clutching one of its arms.

Zhao Jiatong and Yang Shu followed closely behind, their expressions revealing an indescribable sorrow.

“Xiao Zhou… Xiao Zhou, please don’t be like this. Lots of people wear shirts like that.” Zhao Jiatong’s voice was hoarse.

Zhou Qi didn’t say a word, as if she hadn’t heard a thing.

After a while, she suddenly got up, clutching her remaining limb as she stumbled this way and that, wandering aimlessly like a headless fly, murmuring softly, “What about the others… Are there more…?”

She frantically spun around in the corridor, then spotted a leg clad in jeans not far away.

……

“Where’s the head, Sister Zhao… please, help, Yang Shu, look for me.” She could no longer hold on, the limbs starting to slip. Tears streamed down her face in panic as she pleaded, “Help me find it, please, where’s the head?!!!”

Gao Qi couldn’t bear to watch any longer.

Clenching his jaw tightly, he steadied himself for a few seconds before patting Zhou Qi’s shoulder and saying, “Hey, stop crying, I know where it is… I’ll take you there…”

* * *

In the bedroom on the first floor of the west tower, Qin Jiu gripped the Duke by the neck. During the struggle, the mask fell aside, and the young man’s face was finally forced to show a hint of color.

But the one speaking was still the Duke: “You… waste… effort… you… can’t… kill… me…”

“You… will… never… kill… me!”

As he spoke, he actually tried to smile.

Qin Jiu furrowed his brows.

Suddenly, the bedroom door was pushed open by someone.

He turned his head and looked over. Gao Qi, Zhao Jiatong, and Yang Shu were all standing by the door, and besides them… there was also a bewildered woman.

It’s Zhou Qi.

The examinee no longer wore a mask, and her flushed face from crying was particularly clear.

Qin Jiu was taken aback for a moment, instinctively loosening his grip.

Unexpectedly, the Duke did not take the chance to break free.

He looked down to see the Duke gazing sideways at the doorway, momentarily lost in thought.

The next second, he turned back in a panic, covering his face with his hand and rasping, “Don’t look at me, don’t… Get her out, out!”

Though the voice was low, it was exceptionally clear in the quiet bedroom.

After a long while, Zhou Qi’s nasal voice whispered softly, “Jiang Yuan? You… you can still speak? You’re still alive?!”

She rushed straight in, stumbling and crawling, collapsing in a disheveled heap before the Duke.

The Duke used his elbow to shield his face, his neck twitching twice more with a nervous tremor.

His mouth twisted for a moment, and finally he said, “Qiqi… don’t look anymore…”

Zhou Qi sat in front of him, trying hard to pry his hands away, only to find that his fingers were different from what she remembered…

His entire hand was different.

She hurriedly rolled up the other’s sleeve, then pulled open his collar, saw a line of stitch-like red marks, and collapsed to the ground.

After a long time, she suddenly wrapped her arms around the duke’s neck and burst into sobbing.

“I dreamt of you, I had nightmares the entire night, so many people holding knives… they all hacked at you, and you wouldn’t let me look. You insisted on pushing me away, no matter what you wouldn’t let me look. No matter if I cried or cursed, you never made a sound…”

……

Cries filled the entire bedroom.

In this situation, no one could possibly say, “Then convince him to willingly be killed.”

Moreover, Qin Jiu had always harbored doubts about such words.

The Duke suddenly contorted strangely, the fingers that had been caressing Zhou Qi abruptly moving to her neck, and he gripped it fiercely.

Zhou Qi’s eyes widened, tears not yet held back, as he stared blankly at him.

Qin Jiu gripped the duke’s wrist firmly.

“What a touching friendship, after all this time, to still…” The duke’s sarcastic remark was left unfinished, shifting once more in his distorted state to adopt a mournful expression, his fingers slackening.

This time he didn’t hesitate, pushing Zhou Qi away and saying, “Qiqi, listen to me… don’t get so close to me. I… I probably… can’t hold on for much longer. I don’t know how much longer I can last.”

Zhou Qi was in a panic, Zhao Jiatong and Yang Shu came over to hold her back.

The duke suddenly grabbed Qin Jiu. “Help me… help me please, I don’t want to continue like this anymore.”

“You…” Qin Jiu frowned, glancing at Zhou Qi again.

The duke’s eyes were bloodshot, as if he was struggling to restrain himself from looking at Zhou Qi’s face. “If this goes on, I will end up killing all of you someday… I don’t want… I don’t want to suddenly come to my senses one day and see someone’s head in my hands… holding… Qiqi’s head… I’m terrified, I’m so scared.”

“The witch doctor said that only if the duke willingly accepts death can the curse be broken, and everyone harmed because of the duke will be freed.” Qin Jiu whispered. “But…”

“Fake.” Jiang Yuan struggled twice, forcing out the words: “I am him, I know him… it’s fake. He investigated, I know. The result of doing this—is that he voluntarily offered up the accumulated… the accumulated lifespan of immortality he had gathered for so long to the witch doctor.”

He gritted his teeth, practically spitting out each word one by one: “The true host… is the witch doctor! Only the Duke can kill the witch doctor, but if the witch doctor dies, the Duke won’t survive either…”

To make the Duke act against the witch doctor regardless of life and death, and to make the witch doctor willingly accept being killed…

This is a vicious cycle, which is why it’s been deadlocked for so long.

Jiang Yuan seemed determined to finish speaking while he was still lucid.

Gasping for breath, he struggled against the real duke and said, “…All I know is that the witch doctor’s vitality is tied to the duke. If the duke is alive, the witch doctor remains healthy. If the duke dies—unless it’s a sacrificial death—the witch doctor grows extremely weak. It’s just… just that the duke would never do such a thing.”

This seemed like yet another dead end.

But Jiang Yuan could no longer hold on.

He could hardly speak a complete sentence, his twitching and contorting becoming increasingly frequent.

His eyes were moist, and without turning his head, he choked out his last few words: “Go… take her… please…”

Zhou Qi wept too fiercely, her strength almost spent.

Zhao Jiatong and Yang Shu gritted their teeth and carried her outside.

Gao Qi didn’t move. Qin Jiu once again restrained the Duke, pulling rope from the curtains to tie him up. He looked up and said to Gao Qi, “Do me a favor.”

“What are you going to do?” Gao Qi was somewhat concerned for him.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it under control.” Qin Jiu said. “Do you trust me?”

Gao Qi fell silent.

“Hanging around here wasting time—you’re not usually this indecisive, are you?”

Gao Qi stiffened his neck, finally squeezing out after a long pause, “Speak.”

“Head to the kitchen, find people, gather firewood and oil—as much as you can get your hands on.”

“For what?”

“To burn the castle down.”

Gao Qi was stunned: “When? Now?”

Qin Jiu said: “Wait for my signal.”

Gao Qi glared at him, then gritted his teeth and said, “You said it—you have to stand properly and give me the signal!”

Qin Jiu said: “Alright, I got it. Leave the rest to you.”

He came up with a method, somewhat risky and somewhat insane.

If You Huo knew…

He settled the duke in the armchair and began placing candles around it.

If You Huo knew…

Will it be thrilling and satisfying? Or will you give him a punch?

If it were before, he would have been certain it was the former, but now… he suddenly wasn’t so sure anymore.

It’s unclear what kind of psychology was behind it.

But the moment he thought of You Huo, he couldn’t help but smile.

Whatever the case, it’s better not to let him know for now.

Qin Jiu thought.

He lit the candles, looked at the person pieced together in the armchair, and reached out to grasp a certain long-forgotten card in his pocket.

He glanced toward a certain direction outside the window, then stepped into the circle of candles.