Chapter 51: Soul Enticement

The noblewoman was trembling with rage, her voice sharp as she addressed Chi Yun, “Yun, if you still acknowledge me as your aunt, come with me at once.”

Chi Yun pressed her lips together and said, “Aunt, I lost my mother when I was young, and you treated me like your own daughter. But when it comes to matters of the heart, I hope I can make my own decisions.”

“Yun, I’m doing this for your own good. People of our background cannot simply indulge in emotions—we must consider propriety and family reputation,” interjected the man with gold-rimmed glasses, assuming an air of reason.

I glanced at him—his appearance was polished, but his eyes, half-hidden behind his glasses, were cold and calculating. A vertical crease between his brows revealed a deep and scheming nature, perhaps even viciousness.

At first, I’d only observed him casually, relying on some basic face-reading, but I sensed something was off about him—though I couldn’t immediately pinpoint what.

With my special sight, I noted his energy was somewhat dark, yet still within normal bounds.

“Huo Xingyu, this has nothing to do with you. I will never agree to an engagement with you,” Chi Yun said coldly to the man.

He merely smiled and looked at me, extending his hand. “My name is Huo Xingyu. I think you’ll give up on your own.”

I glanced at his hand, noticing a diamond-encrusted luxury watch on his wrist. But what caught my attention was the partial tattoo peeking from under his sleeve.

“Qin Feng,” I replied, reaching out—only to clap his palm and in that instant, prick him with a fine needle.

Huo Xingyu frowned and shook his hand, a brief numbness passing through it.

“I’m a doctor,” I said coolly. “As a matter of professional kindness, let me remind you: your kidney energy is deficient. You should seek treatment, or you’ll be prone to frequent and urgent urination, perhaps even incontinence.”

“This kind of argument is pointless,” Huo Xingyu replied in a tone meant to sound mature. “It only makes you seem childish and ill-bred.” He then turned to the noblewoman. “Auntie, I’ll take my leave. I believe Yun will come to her senses in time.”

With that, Huo Xingyu strode off with practiced nonchalance.

Suddenly, he felt a wave of weakness in his waist and knees, followed by a sudden heat and wetness below—his trousers soaked through in an instant.

The entrance to the mall was crowded as usual, and with his eligible bachelor looks, Huo Xingyu attracted attention from several young women. The moment he wet himself, their eyes turned on him.

“Look! He just peed his pants!”

“How disgusting—an adult man, incontinent? How weak must his kidneys be?”

“He looks impressive, but who knew he’d be like this?”

A crowd quickly gathered, whispering and pointing, with some even recording with their phones.

Huo Xingyu’s mind went blank; his face alternated between deathly pale and livid. If he could, he would have fainted then and there.

Behind him, Chi Yun was briefly stunned before glancing at me with a hint of amusement.

The noblewoman stood with her mouth agape, at a loss for words.

Once Huo Xingyu regained his senses, he hurriedly covered his face with one hand and his crotch with the other, fleeing in a most awkward posture.

“See? I told you he was kidney-deficient. So young, yet so weak—any woman who married him would be doomed to a lonely life,” I chuckled.

The noblewoman clearly felt she could not remain, and left in haste.

Once she was gone, Chi Yun suddenly grabbed my ear. “You little rascal, was this your doing?”

I reached out and pressed a spot under her arm. She yelped and withdrew, her gaze at me soft and filled with mischief.

Chi Yun and I went to a café and found a quiet corner to sit.

“You seem surprised that I’d be troubled by something like this,” Chi Yun said.

“It is a little surprising. But I’m sure you have your reasons,” I replied.

“My mother died early. My aunt raised me; my father was always too busy to care for me. She poured all her love into me, so I never grew up lonely or timid,” Chi Yun explained.

“It’s admirable, but I still believe that everyone is an independent person, inside and out. Kindness shouldn’t demand that I surrender my will to please someone,” I said.

“I know. But I can’t bear to hurt her. Besides, both my uncle and father are pressuring me,” she admitted.

I lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and said, “Since you’ve made your decision, stick to it.”

She nodded. “Aren’t you curious about my family?”

I shook my head. “No, not really. Whatever your status, it’s all the same to me.”

Chi Yun laughed. “You’re the king of pretense. But let me warn you, since you embarrassed Huo Xingyu today, he might seek revenge.”

“If he tries, I’ll make sure he loses his manhood for good,” I laughed.

“You helped me today. How should I thank you?” she asked, her eyes soft as water.

My gaze grew deep—I thought I’d show her, rather than tell, how she might thank me.

The rest of the afternoon passed in wild abandon. Afterwards, I lounged on the sofa, a towel around my waist, smoking contentedly.

Chi Yun lay face-down on the bed, one hand covering her sore hip, her face still pale. Through gritted teeth she cursed, “You scoundrel, you pervert, you nearly killed me!”

...

The room was large and dim, with heavy curtains drawn.

Huo Xingyu sat cross-legged on a cushion, an elder behind him patting his back swiftly.

“Master Huo, are you feeling any better?” the elder asked.

“Much better. But what’s wrong with me?” Huo Xingyu demanded.

“It’s nothing serious—someone drained your kidney energy. You’ll be fine now,” the elder replied.

“Damn that Qin Feng! I’ll skin him alive!” Huo Xingyu roared, leaping up.

“Don’t act rashly, Master Huo. This is a critical moment—we can’t afford any complications,” the elder cautioned urgently.

Huo Xingyu took a deep breath. “Are our people assembled?”

“They’re all here, waiting for the hall master.”

“He hasn’t arrived yet?” Huo Xingyu frowned.

“He seems to have found a woman he’s interested in—says it will aid his cultivation. He should be here in a day or two,” the elder explained.

“Again with the women—if he delays our plan, he’ll be to blame,” Huo Xingyu said coldly.

“That won’t happen. The hall master knows the difference between business and pleasure,” the elder assured him.

...

I had just finished saving a patient in critical condition. After scrubbing the blood from my hands, I returned to the office, basking in the adoring gazes of several nurses.

Yes, I was back at work. The “secondment” had ended, and tonight I was on the night shift.

Opening my drawer, I found three missed calls, all from Xu Bao’er.

Ever since that incident at the restaurant, when I’d indulged myself with her under the table, she’d been avoiding me.

Why would she call so late? Could it be...

I called back, but her phone was off.

At that moment, I noticed an unread message from her.

“Help me!”

Just two words, but they made me sit bolt upright. Bao’er could be playful, but never about something like this.

I dialed again, but her phone was still off.

So, I called Xu Baoguo.

He answered groggily, but when he heard his daughter might be in trouble, he shot out of bed in panic—she was all he had left in the world.

“Bao’er was supposed to be sleeping here tonight. I’ll check on her right now,” he said, rushing to her door and pounding on it.

When there was no answer after a long while, he kicked the door open.

The bed was empty. Xu Baoguo grabbed his phone and said, “Master Qin, it’s terrible—Bao’er is missing!”

I was anxious too. “Search the house. I’ll be there right away.”

I tore off my white coat and sped toward Xu Baoguo’s home.

With the accelerator floored, my car howled through the night streets.

When I arrived, Xu Baoguo was standing outside barefoot, his face etched with worry and fear.

“When did she get home? Did anything seem off? When did she go to her room?” I asked quickly.

“She’s been learning management at my company these days. We returned home together at six—nothing unusual. After dinner, we chatted a bit. Around ten, she went to her room,” he replied.

I went straight upstairs to Bao’er’s room. My sharp gaze swept the space, and I immediately frowned. A faint, chilling energy lingered in the air.

I opened the curtains and found the window ajar. On the sill were the ashes of a burnt talisman.

The person who took Bao’er was an Onmyoji—and judging by the lingering yin energy, they likely controlled spirits as well.

I plucked a hair from Bao’er’s pillow, placed it on my compass, and began to track her location.

Then I jumped out the window and followed the compass needle, Xu Baoguo anxiously at my side.

After about two kilometers, we reached a construction site.

Amidst a pile of debris, I found Bao’er, still in her nightgown, lying motionless.

I rushed over, cradled her, and checked her breathing. Relieved to find her alive and unharmed, I called out, “Bao’er, Bao’er!”

“Let me,” I said, tapping her brow with my finger.

She let out a soft moan and slowly opened her eyes.

But I immediately sensed something was wrong—her gaze was unfocused, her expression blank, like a lifeless doll.

I formed a seal with my fingers and traced a circle above her head, focusing my vision.

A jolt of alarm ran through me. In a harsh voice, I declared, “Her soul has been drawn out—two of her three souls are gone, with only one left to keep her alive.”