Jiang Luo’s expression suddenly turned a little strange.
In the eyes of a malicious ghost, that expression was a mix of fear and fury. Surely the dark-haired youth was about to explode. Little did he know—Jiang Luo was simply trying to hold back his laughter.
Coming in clueless yet trying to mess around—Jiang Luo found Chi You quite amusing.
So much so that Jiang Luo was now tempted to dance on the edge of a tiger’s mouth.
He raised an eyebrow, the corners of his long, narrow eyes curving up with a trace of mockery as he swept a glance over the First Mate. “Is that so?”
Inside the box, he gently brushed the card in his palm and smirked. “First Mate, you want me to take this card?”
The surface of the card was smooth—no markings could be felt. But Jiang Luo didn’t believe for a second that Chi You was being kind, offering him a master card out of goodwill.
On the contrary—Chi You was clearly here to mess with him, to throw him into trouble.
Just like that cup of binding spell water from before, there was no way Jiang Luo was falling for Chi You’s tricks again.
The First Mate’s white mask, lit by lamplight and shadow, split his face into two eerie halves. He chuckled softly. “Trust me. The card in my hand is the one you really want.”
His voice was playful. “The one you’re holding—well, that’s a rare card.”
Jiang Luo studied every expression on the First Mate’s face.
The First Mate smiled calmly, a faint spark of interest flickering in his deep-set eyes. The card in his palm continued to draw lazy circles on Jiang Luo’s skin, a casual gesture that somehow felt completely deliberate, as though he already knew how Jiang Luo would choose.
Suddenly, Jiang Luo laughed. His fingers in the draw box deliberately slid forward, brushing flirtatiously along the other man’s glove. He winked. “First Mate, I get the feeling you don’t have good intentions.”
If Chi You could tease him, why couldn’t Jiang Luo tease him back?
Suppressing a malicious ghost felt pretty satisfying—of course, assuming the malicious ghost no longer had the power to devour him.
Nearby, Ge Zhu waited patiently. The attendant’s expression remained unchanged. From the outside, no one would guess that the two men’s hands had tangled inside the box.
Chi You hooked his fingers with Jiang Luo’s. Just a simple handhold—yet it was endlessly ticklish, like invisible threads binding their long, elegant hands together.
The man’s dark blue eyes sparked with a faint fire. “I’m starting to regret this.”
The card slid to Jiang Luo’s fingertips. Its sharp edge grazed his finger, leaving a fleeting red mark.
The card Jiang Luo had drawn—Chi You had touched it.
Chi You said with meaningful intent, “Maybe letting you take it… isn’t such a bad outcome after all.”
Hearing that, Jiang Luo hesitated.
He stared at Chi You’s unreadable smile, suddenly unsure—was this another trap?
Had he really drawn the master card? Or was Chi You just trying to confuse him, while slipping him a slave card?
But then again… what if he had drawn the slave card—and the one Chi You offered really was the master?
But why would the malicious ghost help him? No matter how he looked at it, it all seemed like a setup.
So—should he switch cards or not?
Which card was the right answer?
The malicious ghost seemed to sense his hesitation, his laughter laced with delight and seduction. “So, dear guest, which card will you choose?”
The attendant spoke up just then, reminding politely, “Sir, please reveal your card.”
Jiang Luo smiled calmly, looking full of confidence. “No rush.”
He lifted his gaze and looked at the malicious ghost, curling his finger in a beckoning motion.
The malicious ghost raised an eyebrow and leaned in closer.
“Mr. Devil,” the black-haired youth’s breath spilled against Chi You’s ear as he whispered, “This shell of yours, without your real body, doesn’t appeal to me.”
The malicious ghost’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he let out a low laugh. “I’m honored.”
Their breath intertwined—Chi You hadn’t expected Jiang Luo to lean in on his own. It put him in an exceptionally good mood. “And since you’re so dazzling tonight, dear guest, I can’t help but offer you another word of advice.”
He slid a card between Jiang Luo’s fingers. “This one suits you best.”
To Jiang Luo’s ears, it sounded more like: This slave card suits your identity best.
Jiang Luo gave a soft laugh and made up his mind. He dropped the smile instantly, withdrawing his hand decisively and cleanly. He drew out the card he had originally selected. “No need. I believe this one is the card meant for me.”
The malicious ghost’s lips curved into a feigned expression of regret. He also withdrew his hand, revealing a white card. The side facing Jiang Luo bore the image of a crown.
“A master card.”
He had offered Jiang Luo a master card.
Jiang Luo stared at the golden crown on the card in silence. After a moment, he lowered his head, his thumb sliding off his own card’s surface. His eyes fixed on the design at its center for a few seconds. Then suddenly, he chuckled lightly and said, “What luck. Mine’s a master card too.”
Before anyone could respond, he smoothly tucked the card into the breast pocket of his suit, smiling brightly. “Thanks for the good luck, First Mate. Everyone, we’re heading to the dance floor now.”
He turned to leave but paused after a few steps, glancing back at the First Mate. “Oh, right. I remember I once complained about you to the captain. He promised me I wouldn’t have to see your face again.”
“But never mind,” he shrugged, turning away, his black hair slicing a handsome arc through the air. “Some people are like parasites—you shake them off, but they just keep clinging.”
As his words fell, they vanished into the crowd of dancers.
By the entrance, silence lingered for a beat. Then the attendant spoke carefully, “First Mate…”
“You didn’t look at his card,” the malicious ghost cut him off.
The attendant frowned. “Wasn’t it a crown card?”
The First Mate laughed under his breath, muttering to himself, “Well, with useless idiots like you… how could you possibly see through him?”
Inside the ballroom, the music flowed softly.
Dodging a server carrying drinks, Jiang Luo moved fast.
Ge Zhu could barely keep up. “Jiang Luo, why are you walking so fast? I only just realized today—your legs are seriously long.”
Jiang Luo quickened his pace even more. Only after glancing back and confirming Chi You wasn’t following did he finally slow down. He pulled Ge Zhu into a corner, his expression darkening.
Ge Zhu’s heart jumped. “What’s wrong? Something happened?”
Jiang Luo pulled the card from his pocket and flipped it over, thumb moving down to reveal the top.
A black chain was clearly printed there.
Ge Zhu: “…”
It was a long time before he managed to find his voice. “So when Lu Youyi said your luck was cursed, and you were a jinx—he was actually right?”
Jiang Luo felt a pang in his chest. He spoke weakly, “This is just a fluke.”
Ge Zhu clearly didn’t believe him. But being the good guy he was, he still comforted him: “It’s fine, Jiang Luo. I believe your luck will turn around. As the saying goes, after extreme misfortune comes great fortune. This time was unlucky, so next time, something good’s bound to happen.”
Jiang Luo exhaled a heavy breath and put the card back in his pocket. “You’re right. But first things first—I need to swap out this card.”
Ge Zhu: “How?”
Jiang Luo looked toward the entrance.
On their way here, they’d passed many people. The ballroom made it easy to tell the rich from the poor—not just by clothing or behavior, but most obviously by whether they wore masks.
All the rich wore masks covering half their faces. The masks ranged from extravagant to understated, but every detail radiated a decadent air of superiority. The poor, by contrast, had bare faces—clean but exposed. In a setting like this, they were like merchandise, their worth judged by those around them.
Jiang Luo’s eyes shifted to the wall.
Rules of the masquerade ball were posted there.
Rule One: You cannot refuse someone’s request to see your card.
Rule Two: “Slaves” must obey the commands of their “Masters” without limit.
Rule Three: During master-slave performances, the “Master” must guarantee the “Slave’s” life and safety.
…
Each rule held layers of unspoken meaning.
Compared to the second and third, the first almost seemed benign.
What was a master-slave performance? If the master had to ensure the slave’s life, did that mean—outside the performance—they didn’t have to?
Who set these rules? And what would happen to someone who broke them?
Jiang Luo’s gaze darkened, his eyes returning to the first rule.
Under such harsh terms, the wealthy held all the advantages, while the poor bore all the risk. Yet a quick glance around showed the room full of commoners—beautiful women hoping to marry into wealth, eager young men trying to charm rich ladies, and sleazy middle-aged men with greedy eyes, hoping for a decadent fling.
Everyone believed they would be the lucky one—even if they drew a slave card, they might still encounter a romantic one-night stand. But Jiang Luo didn’t think that would be the case.
The chain card felt like a burning hot potato in his hand. Jiang Luo thought, I need to get rid of this immediately.
Logically speaking, he shouldn’t have been so anxious.
After all, he wore a mask, and everyone knew he was wealthy. The rich almost always drew a master card. Other wealthy individuals with master cards wouldn’t specifically check Jiang Luo’s card, and those who were slaves wouldn’t dare ask him to reveal it.
—That is, unless Chi You was at this party.
Jiang Luo could already imagine the moment Chi You realized he held a slave card—that wicked ghost would definitely smile with fascinated amusement and proceed to do something outrageous.
A sense of danger quietly crept in.
Jiang Luo had originally been sure that Chi You didn’t know how to express desire. But after his most recent jinx about him, Jiang Luo found himself uncertain again. Was my deduction correct—that Chi You doesn’t know how to have sex?
He felt that his reasoning was solid. But a tiny voice inside asked: What if you jinxed it again?
Underneath the mask, the dark-haired young man twitched slightly at the corner of his eyes. He beckoned Ge Zhu over and whispered, “In a moment, follow my lead like this…”
After giving instructions, the two of them returned to the entrance.
Jiang Luo stepped forward. The attendant saw him and bowed. “Sir, may I help you?”
“Well,” Jiang Luo drawled lazily, with the entitled tone of someone used to getting his way, “I lost my card. I’d like to draw another one.”
“Of course,” the attendant replied calmly. “But,” he added, “there are only limited master cards in the wealthy draw box. If you want to draw again, it’ll have to be from the commoners’ box. Would you still like to draw?”
Jiang Luo fell silent for a moment. “What if a poor person loses their card?”
“Then that’s unfortunate,” the attendant said sympathetically. “No matter what they originally drew, they would automatically be demoted to a slave.”
Jiang Luo pressed his lips together. Just as he was about to move on to Plan B, six people approached—notably, Lu Youyi’s group.
At first, they didn’t notice him. But as they came closer, they recognized Jiang Luo from his distinctive black hair and figure.
Still, they all pretended not to know each other and walked up to the attendant.
The attendant also invited them to draw cards. Jiang Luo gave them a subtle, sympathetic glance and shook his head ever so slightly.
Don’t bother drawing. Go home and get some rest.
Just me and Ge Zhu coming in here would’ve been enough.
But alas, the moment Jiang Luo shook his head, Lu Youyi had already reached into the box. He gave Jiang Luo a puzzled look, then pulled out a card.
“What’s this one?” He flipped it over to reveal a crown emblem, scratching his head in confusion. “Is it good or bad?”
The attendant looked surprised. “Congratulations, sir. You’ve drawn a rare master card from the commoners’ box—the first one tonight, in fact.”
Jiang Luo: “…”
Author’s Note:
Luo Luo: Suddenly, I feel deeply envious of the kid who always ranks last in class…
Luo Luo’s no longer last—Lu Youyi has just ascended to number one.
