[Extensively revising the text, read at your own risk. Updates whenever inspiration strikes]
A deceptively innocent, secretly twisted, cold and alluring Ghost King x a sunny, scheming, wolfdog-type ghost hunter
1.
In the pitch-dark Nether Capital, where not a blade of grass could grow, thousands of spirit flowers that should only bloom in the mortal realm appeared for no reason.
The ghosts whispered among themselves that it was because Han Jin had kidnapped a mortal from the human world and brought him back to keep as a treasured captive, using his sun-warmed yang energy to nourish the flowers.
She imprisoned him, hiding him in the deepest reaches of the Eight Hundred Miles of Yellow Springs.
She wanted him to submit, to please her, to have only her in his heart and eyes.
She thought that was what they called love.
She had no interest in years of tenderness and affection. She preferred taking what she wanted by force, like twisting a melon off the vine before it was ripe.
All the ghosts said the Ghost King had taken a fancy to a handsome mortal man, and that growing flowers was just an excuse for her to indulge in her fantasies.
Only he knew she didn't like him.
She simply loved putting on a show, acting out this tale of boundless devotion.
2.
Once, he had been her prisoner.
She tortured and belittled him, forcing him to love her.
He didn't care. He could act along with her every day, as long as he stayed alive.
Kneeling at her feet, he said with the utmost respect, "Master, what famous flower would you like to admire today?"
Even though he loathed her more than anything.
He wanted to tear off that face of hers, the one that could enchant all living beings,
and gouge out her heart of stone, more poisonous than a snake or scorpion.
Until the day he discovered:
She had been sweet-talking him, sharing tender moments and soft words with him,
only because she wanted to feed her prey before the day came to use it.
She wanted to use his flesh and blood to summon the soul of the man she loved
he was nothing but a sacrifice.
In that moment, any sense of relief he should have felt vanished completely.
Hatred, resentment, and even jealousy filled his heart.
He must have been sick.
"You kept me around just to bring that man back?"
She blinked, gazed into his eyes with a bright smile, and replied tenderly, "That's right, Shen Lang."
How dare she
how dare she use him?
With all four limbs ruined and his body broken, even if he had to crawl,
he would escape her prison.
That day, without looking back, he leaped into the eight-hundred-mile-long river of Yellow Springs and entered the cycle of human rebirth.
Though I may die beneath the Ghost King's flowers, I will never live to make another man's wedding clothes.
That was his pride.
Little did he know, dying beneath the Ghost King's flowers was one thing, but even as a human, life could still be quite the adventure.
*
Later, when he had grown used to having a madwoman by his side, she told him she was tired.
Love was too difficult. She couldn't learn it, and didn't want to try anymore.
They might as well part ways and each find their own happiness.
But he refused to let her.
"Kiss me, even if you're only acting."
This time, he didn't mind acting with her for the rest of their lives.
Or making her act with him for the rest of their lives.
Content warnings:
Told in third person.
1. Neither lead is perfect. They're both drama queens, with fractured personalities.
2. Both are each other's first, both are powerful, and they save each other.
3. The plot leans toward old-school melodrama.
4. The worldbuilding is simple and only serves the plot. Please don't overthink it.
5. I love women, and there will be some mild scenes of the male lead suffering. If that bothers you, please don't read.
About updates:
Updates follow the rankings. Save up chapters and read them later; don't wait for updates.
I'll try to update regularly. Please add the book to your favorites and leave lots of comments!
Theme: Seek the light in darkness, and find yourself through love.
Come and spread the flowers ~ good luck with your writing