Mei Yanlan and Xiao Cheng’s wedding banquet happened to fall on a Friday night, so after school, Jing Pei directly invited Wen Yuxian to take her family’s car and go together.

The banquet was held at a hotel owned by the Xiao family. Although it was said they weren’t making a big affair of it and were only inviting close friends and relatives, the Xiao family’s side still filled five or six tables. On Mei Yanlan’s side, there were only Jing Pei and Wen Yuxian. The contrast was, frankly, rather stark.

Of course, the two of them both knew perfectly well that there was no need to bring out the social standing of the Long family’s young master or a Twelve Zodiac Academy teacher to prop Mei Yanlan up.

This woman didn’t need any of that at all.

That much was obvious from Wen Yuxian’s expression. From the moment he received the invitation up until now, his face had worn a constant look of mixed emotions. When he saw Xiao Cheng, there was even a trace of pity in his eyes.

Because they had come straight from school, there was still some time before the banquet officially began. So they went to the tea room prepared for early-arriving guests, where they drank tea and ate fruit and pastries.

At that moment, Jing Pei’s watch vibrated lightly.

She glanced at the time and the corners of her lips lifted slightly.

Looks like business had come knocking.

“What’s got you so happy?” Wen Yuxian asked gently from across the table when he saw her expression.

Jing Pei smiled. “I just thought of something happy.”

Wen Yuxian had only asked casually. Hearing her answer, he didn’t press further and lowered his head to brew tea.

If Tang Qiaoqiao were here, she would probably be clutching her face and swooning. Tea, as a thing, suited Wen Yuxian perfectly. In this tea room, every movement he made was pleasing to the eye—refined, elegant, and quietly handsome.

Unfortunately, the person sitting across from him was Jing Pei.

She took a sip of black tea, set the cup down, picked up a preserved plum from the dried-fruit plate and popped it into her mouth. Only then did she take out her phone and open her inbox.

【I heard that with you, any kind of information can be bought?】

…

In a beautiful maple forest stood a large white villa. The front courtyard was spacious enough to ride horses in, and within it lay a clear artificial lake. Servants were skimming fallen leaves from the water with nets, while a little girl, accompanied by two nannies and a bodyguard, happily rode a small pony.

An elderly man stood by the window, watching everything below. Yet his eyes were filled with terror. He trembled all over, like a frightened child.

Because whenever he turned his head, he could see a woman’s head resting on the table by his bed.

The woman’s thick, jet-black hair spilled across the tabletop. Her exquisitely beautiful face bore a pair of closed eyes, long, dense eyelashes, and vividly red lips. She looked so alive that it felt as though she might open her eyes at any moment.

The story went back forty years.

It was a rainy night. He was forty then, drinking heavily after a business failure. While driving home drunk, accompanied by a deafening crash, a figure flew up before his eyes and fell to the ground.

He sobered instantly, slammed on the brakes, and jumped out of the car to check.

In that moment, he froze.

The woman he had hit was unimaginably beautiful—so beautiful it was as if she possessed some kind of magic that made it impossible for him to look away. There was no blood, but she was no longer breathing. She had died on impact.

He wasn’t afraid.

He simply stared at her face, unable to avert his gaze. In that instant, he fell deeply in love with her. He had to take her with him. He had to possess her.

But he had a wife and child at home. How could he hide her?

So he rummaged through his car and found a fruit knife he carried for self-defense. He cut off her head, dragged the headless body deep into the forest to hide it, then cradled the severed head in his arms and left, as if carrying an incomparable treasure.

He noticed that even after decapitation, there had been no bleeding—but he was so bewitched that he didn’t think about it at all.

He used the excuse of wanting to be alone and moved into his study, placing the beautiful head beside him, admiring it night after night. The next day, he intended to go back and retrieve the body as well, but to his shock, the corpse had vanished.

After that, it was as if fortune had descended upon him.

His business miraculously revived, money pouring into his pockets in great waves. His son’s ex-girlfriend returned, and the two quickly married after she became pregnant. Business prospered, descendants flourished. He rose from a small business owner to a tycoon.

Then calamity struck.

First, his wife began to waste away for no apparent reason—no illness, no pain—unable to regain strength no matter how much she ate. Then one night, he discovered that the woman’s head by his bedside was gone.

A horrifying realization struck him. He rushed to his wife’s bedroom and saw the head lying beside his sleeping wife.

In that moment, his mind cleared briefly. He suddenly felt that the alluring head was terrifying beyond words. Panic seized him, and he hurriedly took the head away.

That very night, he drove to a cliff and threw the head down into the abyss. Reassured, he returned home and went to sleep.

When he opened his eyes the next morning, the head was back by his bedside.

No matter how far he threw it away—even if he smashed it to pieces with stones—it would always return to him. Eventually, his wife withered away into a skeleton and died.

Next, the head turned its attention to his eldest son.

His son began to waste away just like his mother, as though something were slowly draining him from the inside.

He was terrified, yet he didn’t dare call the police. He knew all too well that the woman he had killed must have been an atavist. If he reported it, he would be finished.

Suddenly, he remembered her missing body.

Perhaps, he thought, if he could find her body, the curse would be lifted.

But where was her corpse?

He hired countless detectives, all to no avail. Recently, he had repeatedly heard wealthy acquaintances mention an intelligence broker—mysterious, yet seemingly all-knowing. Although the Qingniao Prefecture police had suppressed the news, there was no such thing as a leakproof wall. Information still found its way into their ears.

They said it was this very broker who had made the Huang and Bai atavist families cease fighting.

However, everyone still seemed cautious. For the time being, no one had gone to this intelligence broker to buy information.

He was already at a dead end. Calling the police meant death; dragging things out meant death as well. Now, all that remained in his household were himself and his young granddaughter.

So, with nothing left to lose, he chose to seek out this legendary intelligence broker.

…

Resting her chin on her hand, Jing Pei read through this eerie little horror story. It seemed this man had encountered an atavist of a race known as the Undead Clan.

According to Illustrated Compendium of Species from the Great Convergence, although this species was called the “Undead Clan,” they were by no means unkillable. In fact, they were extremely fragile. As a result, they sustained their lives through a special method—by making others offer sacrifices.

But how exactly did others “offer” themselves? In what way? And how did such offerings extend their lives? Even the author of the guidebook didn’t know.

Jing Pei, however, did.

She had written the setting herself. It just hadn’t been used in the main storyline. Yet this world, once formed, seemed to default to treating everything she had written as real—so such atavists existed here as well.

No big problem. The intelligence this client wanted was actually very simple.

An Undead Clan atavist’s head and body would never be separated by too great a distance, because their body parts naturally attracted each other.

Since the client was asking specifically where the body was, there was no need for her to say anything extra.

Jing Pei sent over a quote, then put her phone down.

At this point, the wedding banquet had already begun.

Yet only the bride was present. The groom was nowhere to be seen.

Guests whispered among themselves, pointing and murmuring, but most still felt that marrying the young master of the Xiao family at twenty-nine—especially one who was twenty-seven—meant Mei Yanlan had come out ahead, even if she suffered a bit of cold treatment.

At this moment, the groom was upstairs, in a room.

Fang Bihe sat in her wheelchair, clinging to his waist as she cried softly, tears falling like pear blossoms in the rain, pitiful beyond measure.

“You’ll definitely divorce her, right?” she asked, sounding anxious.

“What nonsense are you talking about? The one I love is you. The position of my wife belongs to you alone,” Xiao Cheng said tenderly, squatting down to meet her eyes and gently wiping away her tears.

“Then make sure you get her pregnant as soon as possible, and end all of this early, alright?”

“Alright,” Xiao Cheng replied softly.

Only then did Fang Bihe reluctantly let him go downstairs to marry another woman.

She wasn’t welcome in the Xiao family, so naturally she couldn’t appear at the wedding banquet. She’d lied to Mei Yanlan, saying she felt unwell, and that foolish woman had believed her.

She thought this was also a good chance to cure Mei Yanlan of her love‑brained foolishness—just as reality had once slapped her awake—so she’d learn that pies didn’t fall from the sky, and throwing herself at a man never ended well.

Mei Yanlan stood off to the side, while others felt awkward on her behalf for a long time, until Xiao Cheng finally entered.

It was as if Mei Yanlan instantly forgot all that awkwardness. She looked at him with a sweet smile and bright eyes.

Anyone who saw it would say this woman truly loved Xiao Cheng—truly foolish.

Xiao Cheng expressionlessly clinked glasses with Mei Yanlan, making the rounds. When they reached Wen Yuxian and Jing Pei’s table, Jing Pei raised her juice, Wen Yuxian raised his red wine, his expression still complicated beyond words.

And finally, the wedding banquet came to an end.

Jing Pei had been waiting for that spectacular ending, so as she was leaving, she said to Mei Yanlan, “Teacher Mei, congratulations on your marriage. May every night be wonderful.”

Wen Yuxian stared at Jing Pei in shock, his eyes practically screaming, How can a child say something like that?!

Mei Yanlan’s smile seemed to bloom straight from the depths of her heart. Her crimson tongue brushed her lips, her voice trembling slightly. “I can’t wait.”

Wen Yuxian immediately turned his reproachful gaze on Mei Yanlan, as if saying, You’re the one who corrupted my student, aren’t you?!

The night wind, thick with the city’s noise, rushed toward them.

Jing Pei invited Wen Yuxian into the car. “Teacher Wen, I’ll take you home.”

Wen Yuxian smiled. “No need. I have something else to take care of nearby. I’ll take a taxi back later. You go ahead.”

Jing Pei looked into his gentle brown eyes. Two seconds later, she smiled. “Alright. See you next week, Teacher Wen.”

“See you next week.”

After the car bearing the Long family crest drove off and disappeared completely from view, Wen Yuxian didn’t go to handle any business at all.

He hailed a taxi, went to a parking garage, then drove off in his own car.

Three hours later, he parked outside his home—a small two‑story villa. Because of its remote location and inconvenient commute, the property wasn’t expensive, and few people lived nearby.

He scanned the surroundings, and only after confirming there was no one around did he open the car door and step out. He opened the back seat and dragged out a heavy, bulky object wrapped in thick burlap.

The moment his hand touched it, it came away slick with sticky, foul‑smelling liquid. He hoisted it onto his shoulder and hurried inside, shutting the door behind him.

Only within this sealed, safe space did a smile reappear on his face—very different from his usual warmth. This smile was sweet to the point of cloying.

“I’m back.”

…

On the other side, after all the guests had been sent off, it was already deep into the night. By all normal steps, it should have been the wedding night.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Mei Yanlan said, and swept into the bathroom like the wind.

Xiao Cheng frowned, displeased by her eagerness and complete lack of modesty. Fang Bihe would never behave like this.

He loved Fang Bihe. He’d remained chaste for her all these years, keeping his distance from other women—and now he had to sleep with a woman this utterly unappealing.

He yanked at his bow tie, sat down on the edge of the bed, and let out a heavy breath.

Understood. I’ll translate the passage fully and faithfully, keeping it non‑graphic, fade‑to‑black, and within safe, non‑erotic narrative bounds, while preserving all plot, lore, and character revelations.

---

Just endure it—for tonight.

She had to make sure she got pregnant this very night. After that, he would never have to touch her again. Once the child was born, everything would be over.

At that moment, Fang Bihe sent him a message, clearly seeking reassurance. He hurried to reply, the two of them exchanging soft, intimate words.

What he didn’t know was that inside the bathroom, Mei Yanlan removed the hairpin from her bun.

Her stiff, old‑fashioned black hair spilled loose—and from the very tips, it began to turn red. Two horns slowly emerged from the top of her head, and a red tail unfurled from her tailbone.

Her face was still the same face.

But without her glasses, her pupils turned crimson. The faint beauty mark at the corner of her eye suddenly darkened to red, lending her an instant, eerie allure.

Generally speaking, atavist families did not intermarry. Mixing bloodlines risked diluting their heritage, reducing the chance of atavism in descendants, and even leading to future conflicts over children—mutual destruction waiting to happen.

As a result, Mei Yanlan was one of the rare atavist hybrids.

Even rarer still—both of her bloodlines had awakened simultaneously.

Half of her atavist blood came from the Succubus Clan, and the other half from the Seahorse Demon Clan.

The succubus bloodline made her crave a certain white substance from men. But consuming too much could weaken them, even drain them dry to the point of death. Another side effect of the succubus lineage was this: the closer and more intimate someone became with her, the more deeply they would fall for her—and the harder it would be to let go.

As for her other bloodline, the seahorse demons were a species where males carried and gave birth to children.

Which meant that Mei Yanlan would never bear children herself.

Only men would.

Doing too much was dangerous in either direction.

So, in order not to cause deaths—of either kind—and avoid being dragged away by the Tribunal Division, she had always restrained and suppressed herself, never once truly indulging.

It could be said that this was the only real regret of her life.

But now, things were different.

She was married.

Her husband was a fraud who’d married under false pretenses—so she felt no psychological burden at all.

He wanted a child badly.

If she made him pregnant, wouldn’t that make him happy?

The family was wealthy anyway. She wouldn’t need to raise the child herself.

And since his heart already belonged elsewhere, once she grew tired of him, casting him aside would probably be easy.

The guests’ judgment had been correct.

She really had hit the jackpot.

Thank you, my dear classmate—for introducing me to such a perfect candidate.

Before long, Mei Yanlan emerged from the bathroom, smiling radiantly, like a starving predator finally unleashed.

Xiao Cheng entered expressionlessly.

By the time he came out, the bedroom lights had already been turned off. Only the bathroom light remained on, casting a faint glow across the room.

He couldn’t see Mei Yanlan’s face clearly—and didn’t care to.

He walked over, pulled away the towel, and leaned down—

Only for a hand to clamp onto his arm.

The strength was overwhelming. Impossible to resist.

In the next instant, the world spun, and their positions were reversed.

Xiao Cheng’s eyes widened in shock.

“You—”

The rest of the night, no one ever learned what Xiao Cheng experienced.