I Can Strengthen Infinitely-Chapter 85 - 78: Bewitched

"Xiaochu!"

Qin Zheng couldn’t help but call out.

Qin Yuesheng was taken aback: "Cousin, what did you say?"

Qin Zheng’s vision cleared instantly, seeing Qin Yuesheng looking at him with doubt, Qin Zheng awkwardly smiled and said, "Nothing, nothing."

However, Qin Yuesheng was puzzled, why did it feel like his cousin was acting a bit strange?

Xiaochu? Who is Xiaochu? Must be muddled with exhaustion.

"Come on, cousin, I’ll first take you to the guest room to rest, and tonight we can go out to eat and relax a bit."

Following Qin Yuesheng out of the Guest Hall, Duan Hongjin asked in a low voice, "Master, Qin Zheng’s spirit doesn’t seem very well."

"Young people, studying hard in solitude, inevitably feel lonely, it’s normal." Qin Feng said calmly, with the tone of someone who’s been there.

Following behind Qin Yuesheng as they strolled through the Qin Mansion courtyard, Qin Zheng had no intention of speaking, his mind occupied with his memories.

He didn’t recall much of that night’s events, but the feelings were deeply etched into his bones.

Unforgettable, hauntingly lingering.

However, the next morning when he awoke, Qin Zheng found himself disheveled, sleeping in the wilderness surrounded by weeds.

Where was the dilapidated temple, where was the graceful beauty?

All that was there was a half-collapsed unnamed grave mound and an exposed skeleton.

Qin Zheng realized he must have encountered the so-called ’ghost illusion’ mentioned in supernatural tales, where wandering spirits set traps along the road for unwary travelers.

Despite this, Qin Zheng felt no fear, quite the opposite, he felt an emptiness, a strange sense of loss.

That night’s beauty, the nuptial candles, the blissful night, were like flowers in the water, moons in the mirror, beautiful illusions that shattered at a touch.

"Here we are, cousin. The room has been cleaned in advance, you can rest right away." Qin Yuesheng said, pushing open the door to a side room.

"Thank you." Qin Zheng walked into the side room.

"Rest well, cousin. I won’t come in. I’ll fetch you tonight for a night out." Qin Yuesheng said with a smile.

Qin Zheng nodded wearily, unsure if he even heard what Qin Yuesheng said.

Seeing how truly dispirited he looked, Qin Yuesheng didn’t say more, bade farewell, and left.

Slowly closing the door, Qin Zheng sat down at the table inside, carefully placing a bamboo basket on the table. He took out all the books from the basket, revealing the contents at the bottom.

If anyone were to see, they would be absolutely shocked, for inside the bamboo basket was a pile of yellow soil and white bones.

Qin Zheng reached out and picked up the skull, stroking it with a strange, infatuated gaze as he asked himself: "Xiaochu...is it you?"

...

Having written a letter for a servant to send to Xu Chang, Qin Yuesheng was just about to take a short rest when Chunfeng walked to the door and softly said, "Young master, there’s a lady outside looking for you."

"Who is it?"

"She says her name is Huang Wei."

"Why is she here?" Qin Yuesheng wondered. He had scheduled with Huang Wei for days later, what was she doing seeking him now?

Though puzzled, they would still need to meet, so Qin Yuesheng had Chunfeng bring Huang Wei to the side hall, while he went ahead to wait.

Before he even sat down, Huang Wei entered with a bamboo basket over her back.

Her face was haggard, exuding an air of dense despair, with hair in disarray, seemingly unwashed for some time.

And her clothes, well... were the same as when Qin Yuesheng last saw her.

"You, what’s this?" Qin Yuesheng asked in disbelief.

"It’s done." Huang Wei, with ’dead fish eyes,’ looked at Qin Yuesheng spiritlessly.

"Twelve thousand words?"

"To be precise, it’s fifty thousand words. I’m afraid it might deviate from your expectations, so I’m bringing it over for you to see, so any discrepancies can be adjusted early." Huang Wei placed the bamboo basket on the ground, lifted the dust cover and bamboo board, "Take a look, it’s all here."

The basket was packed with papers, appearing quite substantial.

Qin Yuesheng picked up a few sheets and began to quickly browse.

One after another, he read over thirty thousand words before stopping.

He truly hadn’t misjudged Huang Wei; her writing and narrative skills were impressive, the plot flowed smoothly, and the exciting parts were well proportioned.

A bit more would be excessive, a bit less insufficient, just the perfect amount.

Qin Yuesheng couldn’t help but recall the days he avidly followed a famed potato author’s works.

"Not bad, this way of writing works." Qin Yuesheng said with satisfaction.

Huang Wei breathed a sigh of relief: "Then I’ll leave this with you and go back to continue writing."

With that, she turned and left abruptly.

"Fifty thousand words are enough for me to first publish and gather funds."

For this novel meant to raise money, Qin Yuesheng planned to release it as a serial, selling each 1000-character issue at a marginal profit.

While earning five coins per reader may seem little, as long as readers are eager to continue, the revenue will grow.

How much it can grow depends on how many buyers there are.

Qin Yuesheng wasn’t worried; he had the Qin family as backing, the Su, Du, and Lu families’ young masters and ladies were his allies, and Xun Sheng owed him a life-saving favor.

With so many connections, they could cover half of Cyan Yang City’s influence. If they helped with advertising, as long as the novel was good, why worry about sales?

The urgent task now is to buy more print shops and have people make flyers and posters.

Though the Qin family was vast, they hadn’t ventured into the printing industry, as bookstores weren’t lucrative in the current age.

But from now on, I, Qin Yuesheng, have a dream, that in the future Cyan Yang City, even Yangzhou Prefecture, and across Jiangnan.

Anyone literate will rush to bookstores asking the clerk, "Did ’Martial Movement in the Sky’ update today?"

This dream is for nothing else but money, to buy pills.

Calling Housekeeper Qin, Qin Yuesheng shared his requirements.

First, start with the printing workshop, buy three places to test the waters by printing ten issues.

Next are the flyers and posters. We must find the most skilled artists and calligraphers in Cyan Yang City to inscribe and paint characters for "Martial Universe."

Once these are settled, the novel can be launched for sale.

Heeding Qin Yuesheng’s instructions, Qin Zheng said earnestly, "Young master, I will handle these matters for you as soon as possible. Should I inform the master about this?"

"No need for that yet, let’s talk about it later. I want to surprise my father," Qin Yuesheng replied.

"Understood. I’ll get to it then."

...

Nighttime.

Following Qin Feng’s request, Qin Yuesheng was tasked with entertaining his distant cousin. After sunset, he went to the outside of Qin Hai’s residence and knocked on the door to greet him.

"Cousin, are you awake? It’s time for us to go out for dinner."

After a moment, the door slowly opened, and Qin Hai stepped out from inside.

"Cousin Yuesheng, I’m sorry, I’m feeling a bit under the weather, so I won’t be going," Qin Hai apologized.

"You’re sick? I’ll find a doctor to check on you then, and have a servant bring you some meals."

"No need for a doctor. I’ve been like this quite a bit during the journey. More rest will do me good."

"Oh, alright. I’ll just have the servants bring you meals instead, as you haven’t eaten much today."

"Thank you, Cousin Yuesheng."

Qin Hai’s reluctance to go out saved Qin Yuesheng some effort. He instructed the kitchen to send meals over to Qin Hai, and then went about his own affairs.

...

Candle flames flickered.

Drips of melting red wax flowed straight down from the candlewick, solidifying into new wax blocks on the candle holder.

Qin Hai leaned on the table, resting his chin on one hand, his eyes fixated on the skull on the table.

The meals on the table had gone cold, and the tea in the teacup had lost its warmth.

Qin Hai maintained this position for half an hour, truly not thinking of tea or food, as if entranced.

"Xiaochu, Xiaochu..." Qin Hai murmured to himself.

Suddenly, the candle flames swayed violently, casting chaotic shadows all over the room, with the firelight flickering incessantly.

A pair of delicate white hands slowly extended from behind Qin Hai, gently covering his eyes.

"Guess who I am."

Qin Hai’s entire body trembled instantly, clutching those hands in shivers.

"Xiaochu, it’s my Xiaochu."

"Young master, you’ve called my name over five hundred times today, aren’t you tired?"

Excitedly, Qin Hai rose and placed Ning Chu’s hands over his heart: "How could I be tired? If I don’t see you for a day, my heart feels almost like dying. Feel it if you don’t believe me."

"I believe you, I believe you." Ning Chu gently pressed Qin Hai back into the chair, pointing to the cold meals on the table: "But young master, you also must eat something. Look, you’ve lost weight,

Here, let me feed you."

"I, I miss you." Qin Hai grasped Ning Chu’s wrist: "Will you always stay by my side from now on?"

Ning Chu smiled without saying a word, nodding slightly.

The candlelight in the room instantly went out.

...

Recently, Qin Yuesheng noticed that his cousin seemed a bit off. Although he ate and didn’t do any hard work, his body just continued to skinny up more than anyone else.

After staying at the Qin Mansion for less than a day and a half, Qin Yuesheng observed him noticeably lose a significant amount of weight, turning places like elbows and necks into skin and bones.

This peculiar phenomenon deeply puzzled Qin Yuesheng. More intriguingly, when he approached Qin Hai, the glass plate on the Exorcism Toad’s back exhibited a slight swelling, indicating the presence of certain hostility on him.

Why would a person carry hostility only found in sinister supernatural beings?

This particularly unsettled Qin Yuesheng, who could not overlook someone concealing such mysteries living in his house.

Therefore, one night, when the night was silent, Qin Yuesheng sneaked quietly outside Qin Hai’s room to find out what this guy was up to at night.

Punching a hole through the window paper with his finger, Qin Yuesheng leaned against the wall and spied inside.

There in the room sat Qin Hai alone at the table, gently cradling a skull from a bamboo basket, startling Qin Yuesheng.

What on earth is going on?

"Xiaochu, come out quickly," Qin Hai murmured tenderly, caressing the skull with an exceedingly affectionate tone.

Seeing Qin Hai talk to a skull sent shivers down Qin Yuesheng’s spine.

Could his distant cousin be a madman?

To figure things out, Qin Yuesheng stayed still, continuing to observe.

He watched Qin Hai irresistibly kissing and caressing the skull with a posture and gestures that were undeniably perverted.

Qin Yuesheng once thought having a necrophilia fetish was nauseating enough, but he hadn’t expected anyone to have a bone obsession.

Just as he was about to avert his eyes from the grotesque sight, something strange happened inside the room.

A figure suddenly appeared, with flowing long hair and a slender silhouette adorned in a white gauzy dress, like a fairy descending to the mortal realm.

But as she turned her face, Qin Yuesheng couldn’t help but feel his eyelids twitch and the corners of his eyes tremble.

Her eyes drooped downward, face deathly pale, with a tongue several feet long rolling and flicking out of her mouth, unmistakably ghostly.

"Young master."

"Xiaochu." Upon seeing the woman, Qin Hai now wore an elated smile, hurriedly pulling her dress hem.

The two seemed not to be meeting for the first time as in Qin Yuesheng’s eyes, they exchanged glances and swiftly embraced.