Now, as he dealt with her two hands, he had never imagined the girl would pull such a vicious trick. Thank goodness Yang Ce's reflexes were sharp—otherwise, given the force of Wang Yanqiu's kick, she would have burst Yang Juehuan's balls for sure.

Seeing that Wang Yanqiu had actually kicked at his balls, Yang Ce flew into a rage. This girl was beyond inhumane—lose the fight and you play dirty? Anyone else would have been turned into a eunuch on the spot.

But Yang Ce never considered how furious Wang Yanqiu had been over his breast-grabbing a moment ago. To be molested and not give the lecher a lesson or two would be unreasonable—especially for a tough girl like Wang Yanqiu.

Yang Ce snapped his legs shut and trapped Wang Yanqiu's right leg between them, showing her no mercy at all. With a single counter-press, he pinned Wang Yanqiu to the ground.

In neither strength nor skill could Wang Yanqiu possibly match Yang Juehuan. When Wang Yanqiu realized she had been pinned to the ground by Yang Ce, she tried to counterattack, only to find in despair that all four of her limbs were firmly pinned down by Yang Ce, leaving her not the slightest room to resist.

"You vicious little wench—trying to cut off my line?" Yang Ce pinned Wang Yanqiu down and said viciously, "I was just playing along with you, never taking it seriously, and what do you do? Every move a killing blow, and dirty tricks on top of that."

"You—you let me go!" Wang Yanqiu, unable to move, cried out in desperation.

"Scream all you want, there's not even a ghost around here—nobody's going to hear you." Yang Ce had barely finished speaking when he heard the sound of someone breathing not far behind him.

Yang Lanxu was startled. At this hour, at this time, who would come here? Yang Ce tilted his head slightly and looked toward the sound, while still pinning Wang Yanqiu down hard on this side, leaving her unable to move.

A person stood not far from Yang Juehuan's BMW, walking toward him. To be precise, it should be called a ghost—because that person's face was not a human face at all.

"Chen Afu!" Yang Puqi was stunned. He might fool others, but he could not fool Yang Ce. Through that ghostly face, Yang Ce saw Chen Afu's true features clearly.

"Hm?" Hearing the man ahead suddenly call out his name, Chen Afu jumped in fright. When he made out the man's voice clearly, he was scared half to death and shrieked, "Oh my god!"

The next moment, Chen Afu turned and ran. Chen Afu had never expected to run into Yang Lanxu again. How could his luck be so bad today? Good thing his reflexes were quick, or a beating would have been the least of it.

Chen Afu could not for the life of him figure out how Yang Ce had recognized him. He had already put on the ghost mask, and yet Yang Puqi had seen through him at once.

Chen Afu regretted it deeply—he should never have left the house today. Earlier, he had received a call from the Right Elder, who set him a deadline to obtain another corpse. But in the city, police cars patrolled everywhere, and Chen Afu had no way to make his move.

With no other choice, Chen Afu had to go farther afield, coming to West Star Mountain on the outskirts of the city to try his luck—to see if any idle passersby came this way, give them a scare, and if they died of fright, so much the better for completing the task the Right Elder had given him.

When Chen Afu rode his bicycle to the vicinity of West Star Mountain, he suddenly noticed a BMW parked by the roadside with no one in it. In this desolate wilderness, who would get out here? The people from the car had to be nearby.

Chen Afu was overjoyed. In the moonlight, he vaguely made out two figures not far off, lying on the ground locked in an embrace. Chen Afu thought to himself, so it's a couple who came here for a roll in the wild—really, what leisure they have, in the dead of winter, with hotels to be had, insisting on coming out here. Well, serves you right for running into me—go down to hell together, a pair of star-crossed lovers.

Chen Afu was just about to make his move when he suddenly heard the person over there call out his name. Chen Afu was instantly alarmed; listening closely, it was Yang Juehuan's voice—and that scared Chen Afu out of his wits.

How could he be so unlucky? Every time, he ran into Yang Ce, and every time he ran into Yang Ce, nothing good came of it. Stranger still, Yang Ce seemed able to guess his identity every time, and was not in the least afraid of his ghostly tricks.

So Chen Afu took to his heels, terrified that Yang Ce would come after him.

Seeing Chen Afu, Yang Shuoxuan was rather taken aback. What was this fellow doing out here in the middle of the night instead of sleeping? And every time with a ghost face on—was he mentally ill?

The ghost face and all the rest—Yang Ce seemed to have worked something out. Chen Afu had been playing ghost, and Yang Ce had caught him at it several times already. That meant the fellow did it regularly, not just by chance.

So then—did this fellow have anything to do with the recent haunting cases? Yang Ce had thought of something back when he first ran into those hauntings, but it had stayed vague. Now, seeing Chen Afu, he understood at once: the man he'd had in mind was him.

At that thought, Yang Shuoxuan forgot all about Wang Yanqiu beneath him and sprang up from the ground to chase Chen Afu. Just as Chen Afu was about to swing himself onto his bicycle, just as Yang Ce was about to catch him, a whistling of wind suddenly came from behind.

Yang Lanxu was startled and turned quickly, only to see Wang Yanqiu driving a fist straight at his back. Yang Yongjin did not dare take it head-on, so he could only twist around to deal with Wang Yanqiu—and over there, Chen Afu had already mounted his bicycle and ridden far away.

Yang Lanxu was seized with fury. God damn you, you little bitch—good for nothing but ruining things. I let you go, and you still sneak up behind me to play the assassin?

If I don't teach you a lesson today that you'll remember the rest of your life, my name isn't Yang. A moment ago Yang Ce had been thrilled at finding a clue to the haunting cases; now he was in a towering rage.

He glared at Wang Yanqiu, his face livid with anger, terrifying in the moonlight. Wang Yanqiu had been in the dark long enough for her eyes to adjust, and now by moonlight and the reflection off the snow she could make out Yang Juehuan's expression clearly.

"Couldn't you see I was going after someone? What the hell are you interfering for?" Yang Juehuan's voice had gone cold and grim.

"I—" Wang Yanqiu had only ever seen Yang Ce wearing that flippant, grinning look; now that he had turned so suddenly fierce in voice and face, she was somewhat stunned.

She had seen him get up to chase someone just now, but she hadn't thought much of it—all she could think was that this was a fine chance to knock Yang Juehuan down. She hadn't expected Yang Ce to be this angry. Still, she was not about to give in: "Our match isn't over yet. I'll do as I please."

"Do as you please—fine!" Yang Ce sneered. "And who do you think you are? Really taking yourself for a top-grade killer? What, I've been going easy on you all along, and now you think you're actually something?"

At Yang Juehuan's words Wang Yanqiu was struck dumb for a moment, and her head cleared at once. Recalling what had just happened, she felt a chill of dread. Indeed—Yang Ce seemed not to have exerted himself at all, brushing off every one of her killing moves with the barest effort.

And in the end he had pinned her to the ground, unable to move. At the thought, Wang Yanqiu's face went dead white. She could hardly believe it—she was a killer, so how could she fail to beat a small-time thug?

Especially at Yang Ce's last remark, "Really taking yourself for a top-grade killer"—Wang Yanqiu's heart clenched. She could not tell whether Yang Ce was merely talking, or had already guessed her identity.