The knife tore through the inner thigh of his suit pants.
The malicious ghost’s leisurely posture stiffened slightly. His expression turned strange as he said, “Castrate me?”
This was the first time he had ever heard someone say that to him.
Jiang Luo pulled out the dagger, grinning as if it had all just been a joke. “Scared?”
But the malicious ghost didn’t think he was joking. He nodded honestly. “A little.”
The black-haired youth’s lips curled up. He said softly, “How can our dear First Mate be afraid of such a tiny dagger?”
He lightly traced the tip of the blade along the malicious ghost’s thigh.
“You’ve even dared to think about sleeping with me — with a thought that bold, what’s there to fear about being castrated?” Jiang Luo said.
The audience below the stage suddenly didn’t know whom to envy more.
The dangerous black-haired youth and the beautiful slave — the atmosphere between them didn’t allow a third person to intrude.
But a moment later, Jiang Luo’s hand stopped. He looked down and raised a brow. “Are you a pervert?”
“You’re aroused even now?”
Only after being pointed out did the malicious ghost realize he had responded physically. Yet he laughed without shame. “Who would’ve thought… but since a slave is having this kind of problem, shouldn’t the master solve it for him?”
Jiang Luo gave him a faint smirk. “You have a point.”
In the next instant, the crowd gasped in shock.
Chi You grunted softly, dodging at the last second — the dagger stabbed into his thigh, narrowly missing its mark. The pain caused his body to reflexively lose the previous reaction. Jiang Luo said casually, “There, problem solved.”
He pulled the blade out, a bit regretfully. “Such a shame. You’re still worth seven figures. I can’t castrate you just yet.”
“But that’s alright. This body isn’t even yours — wouldn’t it be more fun to castrate your real one?”
The malicious ghost looked at the dagger, his expression finally darkening a little. Jiang Luo lifted his chin and studied him. “For a man like you, seven figures is too cheap.”
His voice suddenly turned excited. “Seven figures won’t cut it — I’ll need to raise your value even higher.”
“But before that…” The black-haired youth stood upright and tightened the whip around Chi You’s neck. His smile was cheerful. “You have to answer me — why did you come aboard this ship?”
The malicious ghost watched the strands of black hair brushing away from his shoulder and said lazily, “Of course I came for you.”
Jiang Luo pulled the whip tighter, leaving deep marks on his neck.
The malicious ghost was forced to tilt his head back, staring at the elegant curve of Jiang Luo’s jaw under the mask. A trembling excitement rose in his blood. He said slowly, “Let’s trade questions.”
“I’ll go first,” the malicious ghost decided aloud. “Why did you give me the Yuan Tian Bead on purpose?”
“I just wanted to see how much of your strength it could restore,” Jiang Luo replied. “And to remind you — once you’re strong enough, hurry up and execute your grand plan. Like wiping out the Chi family. And if possible, give the Qi family a lesson too.”
The malicious ghost whispered gently, “There’s no rush. They’ll all die sooner or later.”
“Then it’s my turn to answer,” he continued. “I came aboard… naturally, because of you.”
The noose around his neck almost strangled him.
Jiang Luo said coldly, “If you keep that attitude up, there’s no point in talking anymore. We can just play with something else.”
Chi You shrugged. Though disheveled, he looked completely relaxed. His sweat-dampened golden hair hung over his eyes, giving him a kind of rugged charm and allure.
Jiang Luo suddenly laughed. “First Mate, you really look like a male escort.”
“A male escort?” Chi You laughed soundlessly. “Then is the customer satisfied?”
“My satisfaction doesn’t matter,” Jiang Luo said as he turned the chair so Chi You now faced the audience. He slowly walked to the front of him, placed both hands on the armrests, and leaned in with a wicked grin. “What matters most is whether the audience is satisfied.”
Every move the black-haired youth made tugged at the malicious ghost’s nerves.
Chi You suddenly leaned forward. Just as he was about to kiss Jiang Luo, he paused, then turned his head slightly to kiss the corner of Jiang Luo’s lips. The next second, he was yanked back to his original position. He leaned lazily against the chair, pleased. “They don’t matter.”
What a pity, he thought to himself.
This body isn’t mine.
Jiang Luo, lips touched without permission, went cold-eyed. He slashed the malicious ghost’s shirt open from top to bottom. Buttons popped and clattered to the floor, and the shirt split in two, exposing a glimpse of skin beneath the uniform.
Jiang Luo stood above and looked down at him, inspecting him. Once satisfied, he turned the chair back so Chi You once again faced the audience.
The spotlight was blindingly bright, leaving everything outside it dim and vague. Shadows moved in the darkness, indistinct, but searing gazes seemed to solidify, half burning the bloodstained slave, and half burning the black-haired youth.
The lithe and graceful master deliberately used the handle of his whip to lift open the torn edges of the slave’s shirt, teasing, “First Mate’s physique really is enviable.”
Jiang Luo understood perfectly well — the tantalizing effect of revealing just enough from chest to abs. He had masterfully whetted the audience’s appetite with his slave. But what stirred hearts more than anything was the black-gloved hand of the master, slowly, sensually sliding down into that opening.
The malicious ghost leaned his head back — clearly the slave, yet lounging like the master, enjoying every one of Jiang Luo’s movements.
But the hand abruptly stopped when it reached his abdomen. The malicious ghost opened his deep-set eyes, dark fire and frustrated agitation mixing together. Then they heard Jiang Luo smiling as he addressed the audience below: “A slave like this—starting bid in the seven figures. Anyone want to bid?”
The crowd stirred eagerly, and before long, someone called out a tentative bid.
“Three million.”
“I’ll go five million!”
“…”
***
The performance on stage was intense, and those in the crowd without the means to keep up with the rising bids could only look on jealously, scouring the venue for other slaves.
The atmosphere of the ball turned increasingly rowdy.
Kuang Zheng grew more alert, carefully shielding his friends. But suddenly, an old man sprang out from the left and rushed up to him. The old man looked Kuang Zheng up and down with an envious glint in his eye and said darkly, “I want you to be my slave.”
Zhuo Zhongqiu promptly flashed the crown card given to her by Ge Zhu. “Sorry, he’s my slave.”
The old man cast her a venomous look, but his eyes shifted instead to Wenren Lian, who was shielded behind Kuang Zheng. His cloudy gaze brightened. “Let me see your card. I’m guessing you’re a slave.”
Zhuo Zhongqiu and Kuang Zheng’s expressions changed.
Lu Youyi stepped in front of Ye Xun, while Ge Zhu protected Cyril. They no longer had the capacity to shield Wenren Lian as well.
But Wenren Lian didn’t panic—he simply chuckled twice.
Running a hand through his long hair, he smiled cheerfully and said, “You want me to be your slave?”
The old man replied, “You’re tall, but you look decent.”
Wenren Lian muttered to himself, “That’s exactly why I like wearing women’s clothes.”
Jiang Luo, hearing the commotion from the stage, stiffened and leapt down immediately, heading toward them. Just as the old man reached out to grab Wenren Lian’s wrist, Jiang Luo smacked his hand away and said coldly, “Who told you you could touch my slave?”
The old man, about to protest, flinched slightly upon recognizing who it was. “Your slave?”
On stage, Chi You licked the blood from his lips, narrowing his eyes as he watched Jiang Luo.
His deep blue eyes were devoid of emotion. Under the spotlight, his handsome, impassive face looked like a lifeless corpse. He saw the old man pointing to him and questioning the black-haired youth: “Then who’s the one on stage?”
Jiang Luo pulled Wenren Lian behind him and replied lazily, “That first mate? I got bored playing with him. Whoever pays now is his new master.”
Many in the room heard this line, and the bidding grew even more aggressive. The ghost on stage, however, went cold in the face.
But no one noticed.
Someone argued, “You played him half to death. Shouldn’t you lower the price?”
“Sorry, no bargaining,” Jiang Luo said firmly. “From what you just saw, you should already know his value. As a top-tier slave, I believe he’s worth any price.”
Having said that, Jiang Luo took Wenren Lian and turned to leave. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be taking our leave. The one on stage is all yours. Oh—and don’t forget to send me the money.”
Without hesitation, the black-haired youth left with someone else.
Chi You stared expressionlessly at his departing figure.
Menacing black mist curled around him, a ghostly face faintly emerging.
The ordinary guests below, oblivious to all this, still moved eagerly toward the stage, hoping to become the malicious ghost’s next master.
The ghost suddenly broke free from the leather cuffs binding him.
He dodged a hand reaching toward him, clearly in a bad mood.
Jiang Luo had really just thrown him to the crowd.
Wonderful. Just. Wonderful.
***
Slaves were not allowed to leave on their own, but masters could take slaves with them.
Jiang Luo brought Wenren Lian to the quiet bow of the ship. “Wearing women’s clothing in a place like this is a lot more dangerous than dressing as a man.”
Wenren Lian was still wearing carefully done makeup and a pretty, though not lavish, dress. To the outside eye, he was a perfectly elegant young lady.
He stepped to Jiang Luo’s side and handed him a cigarette. The two stood there in the damp sea breeze, hair whipping around. Wenren Lian lowered his head to light the cigarette, his soft feminine features suddenly taking on a shadowy depth. “That’s exactly why I like wearing women’s clothes. Dressed like this, I get to see more interesting things—and go through more twisted challenges.”
His voice held a mocking tone. “I’ve learned quite a bit from those experiences.”
Jiang Luo listened quietly. When the cigarette was finished, they calmly began to exchange information.
When their intel was combined, a rough picture began to take shape.
The rich boarded the ship in search of blood eels, which were said to have anti-aging and beautifying effects. The commoners on the cruise had come for the money—they got a bonus just for boarding, and participating in events onboard would earn them another payout.
But who was paying that money?
Both Jiang Luo and Wenren Lian knew the answer.
The rich.
But if the rich were looking for blood eels, why bring commoners onboard?
Just as Jiang Luo was about to speak, a sound came from the corner.
They exchanged a look and crept closer.
When they got there, Wenren Lian called out, “Who’s there?”
There was a rustling from the shadows, and after a few minutes, a little girl stepped out.
She looked about eight years old, wearing a frilly little dress. She glanced shyly at Jiang Luo and Wenren Lian, head down and silent.
Wenren Lian asked gently, “Little one, who are you? Why are you here?”
“My name is Lisa,” she said softly after Wenren Lian asked several times. “I was playing here.”
Jiang Luo rested his hands on his knees and looked at her, speaking just as softly, “Are you playing here alone?”
The little girl nodded obediently and looked up at them.
She was as delicate as a doll, black curls framing her face, but her complexion was pale with signs of malnutrition. Though her dress was of a decent style, its colors had faded.
There was even a dirty grey stain on the hem of her skirt.
She didn’t look like a rich kid, but commoners wouldn’t have access to this part of the ship without an invitation.
Jiang Luo smiled warmly. “Lisa, who’s your dad? Would you like us to take you back?”
Lisa pointed toward a few rooms behind her. “I live right there. My dad is the ship’s captain—I know this place really well.”
Ah, the captain’s child.
Jiang Luo asked, “Where’s your mom?”
Lisa clutched her skirt and answered in a quiet voice, “Two years ago, during a storm, Lisa’s mom fell into the water. Lisa doesn’t have a mom anymore.”
So that was it.
With her mother gone and her father busy as the ship’s captain, he probably didn’t have time to care for her properly.
The two of them walked Lisa to her room. Just before parting, the little girl bit her lip and hesitated for a while before suddenly grabbing the hem of Wenren Lian’s dress. “Big sister…”
Wenren Lian knelt down with a smile. “What is it?”
The little girl hugged her neck and whispered in her ear, “Don’t drink the fish soup.”
Wenren Lian’s expression didn’t change. Her voice remained calm: “Can Lisa tell big sister why not to drink the fish soup?”
Lisa silently shook her head.
Jiang Luo, listening on the side, fell into thought.
On their way back, the two of them ran into crew member Cheng Li.
His clothes were soaked on the front, and his face was grim. He passed them with a dark expression.
A few drops of water splashed onto Jiang Luo. He wiped it with his thumb and brought it to his nose—there was a strong scent of the sea.
Seawater.
Wenren Lian noticed his movement and asked, “Is something wrong with that guy?”
Jiang Luo looked at the water trail on the ground. “It’s seawater. In the middle of the night—did he go diving?”
Finding it odd, he followed the water trail to the back of the ship. At the stern, a group of over ten crew members were working with ropes. Two divers in wetsuits were tied to the ropes, equipped with spear guns, and another group was lowering a lifeboat.
Seeing them approach, one of the supervising crew members came over. “Gentlemen, I’m Du Tai, a crewman. We’re very busy right now—please steer clear of this area.”
The sea breeze was stronger at the stern, and the fishy smell was heavier than at the bow. Jiang Luo looked curiously over the edge and whispered, “Fishing…?”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but Du Tai clearly understood. He laughed, “Sir, you’re too eager. We’ve only just set sail—it’s not yet time for fishing.”
“Then what’s this?”
“Mr. Wilton jumped overboard. We just pulled him back up.”
“But don’t worry,” Du Tai said vaguely. “It’s breeding season for them. Besides rescuing Mr. Wilton, we’re also keeping an eye out for their eggs to locate where they appear.”
Wilton jumped overboard?
Jiang Luo recalled that piggish, manic rich man running out of the hall and asked in a low voice, “Is he dead?”
“Still breathing,” Du Tai replied.
Jiang Luo’s expression didn’t change. He asked the question that concerned him the most: “Isn’t it inconvenient to look for eggs at night?”
“Doesn’t matter if it’s day or night,” Du Tai said, glancing at the pitch-black sea with a faint smile. “You can’t see anything down there anyway.”
With that, he politely asked them to leave.
The living quarters for the rich and the commoners were on different floors. Jiang Luo and Wenren Lian said their goodbyes, and once Jiang Luo returned to his room, he remembered he’d left Chi You in the ballroom.
He gave a dry laugh and dismissed the thought.
He didn’t believe someone like Chi You could actually be taken advantage of. Instead of worrying about him, it was better to prepare for the vengeful spirit’s retaliation.
For the next two days, the cruise was peaceful. Unexpectedly, the malicious ghost didn’t come looking for Jiang Luo, and Jiang Luo didn’t receive any unexpected windfall either. It was said that the First Mate had stormed out of the ballroom that night. Occasionally, Jiang Luo would catch sight of him on the ship, always avoiding his gaze.
Jiang Luo lost interest. He figured Chi You had already left the First Mate’s body.
It was the same physical vessel, but without Chi You, the man seemed like a completely different person—no longer the slightest bit interesting to Jiang Luo.
On the fourth day at sea, under clear skies and calm seas, the Angonise successfully hauled in a strange fish.
Jiang Luo watched the entire capture process.
A massive net was dragged up with a heavy groan, revealing a jet-black fish as large as two grown men. Five crew members struggled to haul it onto a scale in the center of the deck. Someone beside Jiang Luo exclaimed, “Over 500 pounds!”
“This one fish alone could sell for millions…”
That was clearly something only a clueless commoner would say. The rich were already staring at the fish with glowing eyes—some even trembling slightly.
The black fish was grotesque.
It had no scales at all. Its head was enormous—so large the thin skin stretched with a red tint, showing blood flowing beneath the black surface, as if a needle prick could burst it.
Its skin was slick and shiny, covered in a slimy transparent mucus like an eel. Two bulbous, copper-colored eyes jutted out from either side of its head, blood-red inside.
The thick stench of fish slowly spread across the deck.
A woman couldn’t help but gag. “It reeks.”
The fishy, putrid smell was so strong it resembled rotting fish. Everyone affected by the odor looked quite uncomfortable. They covered their noses and backed away several steps, yet none of them were willing to leave completely.
This was the blood eel.
After catching the blood eel, the Angonise remained in this patch of sea. The rich no longer had the mood to play around—they returned to their rooms and patiently waited for the evening banquet.
Jiang Luo resisted the urge to vomit on the deck. As Wenren Lian passed by him, she slipped a note into his hand.
Back in his room, Jiang Luo unfolded the note. There was only one sentence: Wenren Lian and the others had discovered that four people among the commoners were missing.
No one knew where those four had gone. When they asked the crew, they were told the four had been “played to death” by masked rich guests on the night of the ball. But Wenren Lian and the others felt the truth might not be so simple. They wanted Jiang Luo and Ge Zhu to investigate the real cause of the four commoners’ deaths—it might be related to the blood eel.
Jiang Luo burned the note and went to the bathroom to wash off the reek of fish. The blood eel’s stench was incredibly stubborn; it took him three full scrubs to get the smell off his body.
He couldn’t help but wonder: Can something that smells this awful really enhance beauty or prolong life?
Would anyone truly want to eat it?
At the banquet, the dining hall was noisy with chatter. The rich had gathered early.
Jiang Luo told Ge Zhu about the four missing commoners. Ge Zhu fell into thought, his eyes scanning the crowd.
“If someone were a murderer, their face would show violence, or at least carry a blood-tinged aura. I’m quite skilled in physiognomy, but looking around, none of these rich people seem to have recently taken a life.”
Jiang Luo frowned. “Are all the rich guests here?”
“They think they’ll get to eat blood eel tonight—not a single one is missing,” Ge Zhu lowered his voice, then said uncertainly, “Jiang Luo, do you think blood eel really extends life or makes people young again?”
Jiang Luo sighed. “I don’t know.”
If this were before he transmigrated, Jiang Luo would’ve scoffed and called it “superstitious nonsense.” But now, in a world where Heavenly Masters, vengeful spirits, and Hei Bai Wu Chang existed—things that should not be real—he could no longer deny the possibility that blood eel might actually possess such effects.
The two of them kept their conversation hushed and remained calm. The other rich guests, however, were clearly losing patience. Many stood and began pacing, repeatedly glancing toward the door.
Half an hour later, the captain finally arrived in the dining hall.
But contrary to their expectations, the dinner did not include any blood eel. The captain said, “My apologies. Although we did catch the blood eel today, it’s not yet ready to be eaten.”
“When can we eat it?” someone urgently interrupted before he even finished.
The captain replied unhurriedly, “Gentlemen, the finest delicacies require the most patient wait. We are processing the blood eel. At most, in a week’s time, you’ll be able to taste it.”
“But although the blood eel weighs over 500 jin, the portion of meat that actually has its special effect is very limited. The first batch—once processed—has the strongest effect, but based on past experience, that first batch is only enough for ten people.”
The captain smiled, the lines around his mouth deepening. “And who those ten people will be—will be decided at tomorrow night’s auction.”
