Yan Bo's consciousness flickered back, and he awoke to find himself in utter darkness. At first, he thought it was the void of death, but as his senses sharpened, he realized he wasn't alone. He felt trapped, his very soul tethered to an object that pulsed with an unnatural energy.
A dim light surrounded him, emanating from the walls of the Forever Lamp—a cursed artifact designed to imprison vengeful spirits for eternity. Yan Bo's ethereal form hovered within, his translucent hands pressing against the unyielding barrier.
"Father…" he murmured, his voice echoing faintly in the confines of the lamp. The betrayal replayed in his mind like a relentless storm—his father's cruel smirk, the cold steel piercing his chest, and the life draining from him as Yan Kai stood above him, unrepentant.
"How could you…" Yan Bo whispered, anguish twisting into rage. His spectral form flickered as his emotions boiled over. "How could you do this to me?"
Suddenly, the faint sounds of voices reached him, muffled but clear enough to make out. His ears perked up, and he listened intently.
"Did you hear? Mei Lian is getting married!" a woman's voice exclaimed, brimming with excitement.
Another voice, sharp with envy, chimed in. "I heard her husband is incredibly handsome!"
Yan Bo froze, his translucent eyes widening. Mei'er? Getting married? But… I'm dead! Who could she possibly marry—
His thoughts were shattered as a figure passed by the lamp's flickering light. It was his twin brother, Yan Hao. Yan Bo's breath caught in his throat as he stared in disbelief. Yan Hao looked eerily like him but carried an air of effortless charm, his posture confident and his smile disarming.
The realization struck like a thunderbolt. Yan Hao. He's the one marrying Mei'er. He's taken my place… my life.
"No!" Yan Bo screamed, his voice reverberating within the confines of the lamp. "Mei'er!"
But it was hopeless. The lamp held him fast, his cries unheard by the world outside.
Then, a dry chuckle broke the oppressive silence. Yan Bo turned sharply, his spectral gaze locking onto an old man sitting cross-legged nearby, stroking his beard with an air of self-satisfaction.
"Ah, young love," the man said wistfully. "It's such a shame I'm too old for it now."
"You…" Yan Bo's voice was sharp and cold. "Who are you?"
The old man's eyes twinkled with mischief as he replied, "Me? Why, I'm the fortune teller, of course."
The words struck Yan Bo like a physical blow. His anger surged, his form glowing brighter with the intensity of his wrath. "You're the one who caused all of this! You're the one who turned my father against me!"
The fortune teller tilted his head, a look of feigned innocence on his face. "Ah, but I merely told him what he wanted to hear. A shame he took it so… literally."
Yan Bo's rage erupted. The light within the lamp flared, the glass trembling under the force of his fury. The fortune teller reached out to steady the lamp, but it was too late. With a deafening crack, the lamp fell to the ground and shattered into a thousand shards.
Yan Bo's soul shot free like a bolt of lightning. The fortune teller stumbled back, his smirk replaced by terror as the vengeful spirit materialized before him, glowing with unholy light.
"Wait! Wait!" the old man stammered, raising his hands in a feeble attempt to shield himself. "Don't kill me! I can explain!"
"Explain to the afterlife," Yan Bo hissed, his voice echoing with otherworldly power. A sword appeared in his hand, summoned from the ether, its blade shimmering with spectral energy.
With a single, swift motion, Yan Bo brought the sword down. The fortune teller let out a guttural scream as blood splattered across the street. Nearby villagers who had gathered to watch the commotion froze in horror before erupting into panicked cries, scattering like leaves in the wind.
Yan Bo didn't linger. His spectral form blurred as he made his way to the Yan estate, driven by a single, burning desire—to see Mei'er.
When Yan Bo arrived, the sight that greeted him froze his very soul. In the courtyard, under the cover of night, a group of servants were gathered. They were digging a deep pit, their faces pale with fear but obedient to their master's commands.
At the center of it all was Mei Lian, her wrists bound, her hair disheveled, and her face streaked with tears. She screamed and struggled as two men dragged her toward the grave, where Yan Bo's lifeless body already lay. His corpse, pale and dressed in ceremonial robes, was positioned grotesquely, as though mocking the sanctity of life.
"No! Please!" Mei Lian sobbed, her voice raw and desperate. "I've done nothing wrong! Let me go! Please, someone help me!"
Yan Kai stood nearby, his face a mask of grim determination. "This must be done," he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. "The fortune teller was clear. To break the curse, they must be buried together. There is no other way."
Mei Lian screamed again, her voice piercing the night, but no one moved to help her. The servants worked faster, their shovels clinking against the earth as they widened the grave.
Yan Bo's fury ignited anew. He hovered above the scene, his spectral form pulsating with unrestrained power. "Father!" he roared, his voice shaking the very ground.
Yan Bo's form hovered in the suffocating night, watching helplessly as the nightmare unfolded before his eyes. He screamed again, his voice filled with anguish, "Mei'er! Someone help her! Please!" But his cries echoed into the void, unheard and unseen. The love of his life was screaming for salvation, her voice raw and desperate as her captors forced her closer to the open grave. Yet, no one moved to help her.
His twin brother, Yan Hao, stood nearby with an air of detachment, his face void of emotion. His handsome features, so like Yan Bo's, were twisted into an expression of cold indifference. As Mei Lian was dragged closer to the grave, she turned her tear-streaked face toward him. "Yan Hao! Please, you're his brother—help me! Don't let them do this!"
But Yan Hao didn't flinch. He simply crossed his arms and looked away, as though her pleas were nothing more than the wind rustling through the trees.
"Curse you!" Yan Bo bellowed, his fury tearing through the air like a storm. "Curse you, Yan Hao! You coward! You traitor!"
But it was useless. His words were carried away by the wind, unable to reach the living. The servants finished their grim task, shoveling the last of the dirt away from the edges of the pit. Yan Kai stood at the head of the grave, his expression grim and resolute.
"Lower her in," he ordered coldly.
"No! No, please!" Mei Lian screamed, struggling with all her might. But her captors were stronger, dragging her into the grave. She landed next to Yan Bo's lifeless body with a thud, her fingers clawing at the edges as she tried to climb out.
"Seal it," Yan Kai commanded, his voice devoid of emotion.
The servants hesitated, clearly uneasy. But under the patriarch's icy glare, they began to shovel the dirt back into the grave. Mei Lian's screams turned frantic, her hands reaching out as the soil began to cover her. "No! Please, don't! I don't want to die! Help me!"
Yan Bo's chest felt like it was tearing apart. He hovered above her, his hands clawing uselessly at the dirt as it buried her inch by inch. "Mei'er!" he howled, his voice cracking. "I'm here! I'm right here! Don't leave me!"
But she couldn't hear him. Her screams grew weaker as the soil pressed against her face, silencing her cries. In mere moments, the grave was filled, the earth packed tightly as though she had never existed.
Yan Bo's ethereal form fell to his knees, his entire being trembling. He reached out toward the grave, his translucent hand passing through the soil. His heart shattered into a thousand pieces, each one more agonizing than the last.
"Mei'er…" he whispered, his voice broken. "I couldn't save you… I couldn't do anything…"
As his grief consumed him, the air around him grew colder. A shadow emerged from the darkness, its form indistinct but radiating an ominous power. The figure approached, its voice smooth and alluring. "Such sorrow… such rage… You've been wronged, young one."
Yan Bo turned his head sharply, his eyes blazing with suspicion. "Who are you?"
The figure chuckled softly, the sound sending chills through the air. "A friend. Someone who understands your pain. I can help you, Yan Bo."
"Help me?" Yan Bo's voice was laced with bitterness. "No one can help me. I'm dead. She's gone. My family destroyed me."
"Precisely," the figure said, stepping closer. "You've been betrayed, discarded, humiliated. But you don't have to suffer in silence. I can give you the power to avenge her, to punish those who wronged you."
Yan Bo hesitated, his grief mingling with his simmering rage. "Avenge her? Punish them? How?"
The figure extended a shadowy hand, its form shifting like smoke. "Accept my offer. Bind yourself to me, and I will turn your pain into strength. Your rage will become a weapon, your sorrow a shield. Together, we will ensure they pay for what they've done."
For a moment, Yan Bo hesitated, his soul teetering on the edge of despair and resolve. Then he thought of Mei Lian, her screams, her terrified face as she was buried alive. He thought of his father's betrayal, Yan Hao's cold indifference. His sorrow turned to fire, consuming him entirely.
"I'll do it," he growled. "Whatever it takes."
The figure smiled, its form pulsing with dark energy. "Wise choice."
The moment Yan Bo accepted, a searing pain tore through his soul. He screamed as the shadow enveloped him, binding him with chains of dark energy. His once-transparent form darkened, his features twisting with hatred. His soul no longer belonged to him—it was now a weapon of vengeance, a tool for his new master.
When the transformation was complete, Yan Bo stood, his eyes burning with unholy fire. The figure's voice echoed in his mind, smooth and commanding. "Your pain has been given purpose. Now go, my servant. Bring chaos and retribution to those who have wronged you."
Yan Bo nodded silently, his heart empty of everything but a singular, burning purpose: vengeance.
Wei Yu watched the scene in horror. "This woman," He mumbled, "She's the soul that attacked me that night."
Yu Chen gazed at Wei Yu for a moment, his eyes wide in shock. "We need to get out!"