Chapter 25 The Harsh Handsome Man "He's so handsome, and his hair is so beautiful..."
As night fell, torches illuminated the place like a sky full of stars. I couldn't help but marvel; no latrine had ever been so magnificent.
At dawn, the latrine had been mostly emptied, and many guards had begun picking grass and yellow herbs. What was shocking was that at the bottom of the pit were piles of human bones, crawling with countless "ants".
This place is not only a disgusting cesspool, but also a terrifying graveyard.
"What's going on?" I asked a guard captain.
The guard leader glanced hesitantly at him not far away, but said nothing.
I immediately went to his side and asked, "Do you know what's going on with the human bones here?"
He replied nonchalantly, "Of course I know, when people die they just turn into bones, right?"
"Is this any of your business?"
He glanced at me sideways. "So many human bones, you think I killed them all? It was a vendetta among the lower levels of the castle."
"What's the meaning?"
"For example, superiors might use this method of killing and dismembering to deal with disobedient subordinates, or when maids have a feud over a lover. But they wouldn't do it themselves; instead, they would hire someone who specializes in dismembering bodies. After receiving payment, the dismemberer would chop up the body, stuff it into the toilet opening, and make the person disappear without a trace. The secret chamber you found in 'Ant' was a secret murder room. The abandoned latrine opening led directly to the cesspool, making it the perfect place to kill."
I was horrified. "Why didn't anyone tell me about something this big? Did you know about it before?"
He smiled wryly. "No one has informed me, but even if I did, I wouldn't care. Countless people disappear without a trace every year. If I were to take care of them all, I wouldn't be able to get any real work done."
I fell silent, unable to think of a better rebuttal for a moment.
Because I know his background and situation.
He's too busy taking care of himself to care about others. Besides, he despises this castle, so he's even less likely to concern himself with such matters.
A raging fire began to burn. By this time, most of the yellow grass had been picked, so they simply lit a fire in the cesspool, burning all the grim-looking green grass.
The secret chamber was also burned down; it was teeming with ants that spread pollen.
Thick black smoke shot into the sky, creating a stark contrast with the falling snow.
I had the illusion that I was in a horror story.
The shrill roars of the zombies were more like background music.
And I am like some strange little character in the story.
***
The cold wind howled, and the snow fell heavier and heavier. All the yellow grass was ground into powder; only the final blow remained.
I took a deep breath, preparing to transform into a crow.
Now the most crucial task falls on my shoulders—to scatter the powder into the "sea of zombies."
Putting aside whether the powder will have any effect, just flying over a zombie's head could result in being violently pulled and killed.
"Don't be so nervous," he said casually, "it will be over soon."
I glared at him, but of course he wasn't nervous. The spectators are always more relaxed than the performers.
I took another deep breath, silently recited the incantation, and transformed into a crow, flying into the sky.
I dare not fly too high or too low. If I fly too high, I have a fear of heights, and I'm afraid the powder will be blown away by the wind and won't land on the zombies. If I fly too low, I'm worried about confirming my fear from just now—being pulled and tugged by the zombies.
I flew through the wind and snow to the top of a group of zombies outside the pit.
I tore open the bag with my mouth, and countless yellow powders poured out. Hundreds of zombies roared madly and stretched out their long arms to grab me. I was so scared that I didn't dare to breathe, and I moved back and forth in a dangerous situation, trying my best to pour the powder on the heads of each zombie.
In just a few minutes, a miracle suddenly occurred—some of the zombies collapsed to the ground screaming in pain, their bodies slowly withering away; others also collapsed to the ground in agony, but their complexion and skin tone improved noticeably, turning from bluish to white and then to rosy, and their eyes and expressions seemed to gradually return to normal…
Overjoyed, I sped up and spun around them, sprinkling powder, before flying back to the dung pit after circling several times.
At this point, the zombies' roars began to subside.
The guard chief quickly replaced my bag with a new one, and I took to the sky again, spreading my giant wings and flying towards the plaza in front of the tower, which was also a heavily affected area besieged by zombies...
While sprinkling powder, they tried their best to avoid the zombies' waving arms...
More than an hour later, the zombies' roars all disappeared, leaving only the burning sound of the unburnt flames in the cesspool.
The fear, bitterness, and stress of the past few months vanished instantly.
I transformed into human form, relaxed completely, and collapsed to the ground, where several guards rushed over and helped me back to the castle.
After a long day of sleeping, I woke up to find myself, dressed elegantly and gracefully, sitting by the window flipping through a stack of books.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, startled, and sat bolt upright. "How are the zombies?"
“I’m the chief mistress, of course I can be here.” “I,” that is, he turned around, “some of the zombies are dead, and some are recovering to normal.”
"Why?" I asked in surprise.
He replied, "It should be related to the duration of poisoning. Zombies poisoned for a long time cannot recover to normal and cannot resist the antidote, eventually dying from both toxins. Zombies poisoned for a short time can accept the antidote and recover to normal."
"Have you figured out how the zombies came to be?" I asked a difficult question.
I thought he would say no or remain silent, but he actually answered, "Yes."
I looked at him in surprise, and he said, "When Rosie found out about the dismembered bodies in my castle, he secretly sent people to stuff living people into the cesspool. The poisonous green grass can only exert its power in places with heavy fumes. When the living people are entangled by the green grass, they turn into zombies. The zombies bite the living people, the living people turn into zombies, and that's how the zombies become rampant."
I was shocked and horrified. "How did you find out?"
"I have to thank your conjecture about 'ants' spreading 'pollen' to help the grass grow green; it's all related to dung after all," he said slowly. "I caught two people: the wife of the dismemberer in front of the Dark Pavilion and the foreman of the dung sludge. After a little interrogation, the wife confessed that two months ago someone paid her a large sum of money to not dismember her husband, but to push him into the dung pit alive. The foreman admitted that someone told him to scatter some kind of seed he had never seen before into the dung pit, and that he personally witnessed the first zombie crawl out of the dung pit. He escaped the castle that night and was able to save his life."
These two lowly figures, who usually go unnoticed, never expected to commit such a serious crime, almost destroying his high and mighty lord.
"How do you know it's related to these two people?" I asked.
"Just guessing," he said lazily.
The truth has come to light. What appeared to be a natural disaster was actually a man-made one, with Rosie as the mastermind.
I asked curiously, "Someone as ruthless as you, wouldn't you have dealt with this Luo Xi long ago?"
I thought that, being as arrogant as he was, he wouldn't answer this time, but he actually said, "He can't die yet."
"Why?" I turned around and asked.
He turned his cold chin away, seemingly disdainful of answering.
Just as he was about to leave the room, I sniffed myself and was horrified. "Who gave me a bath?"
He turned around, his elegant long dress trailing behind him.
“You…it’s you…” I said in a trembling voice.
“Don’t be nervous,” he said coldly, “I’m just throwing you into the water to soak.”
"Why don't you let a male servant do it?" I can't accept the difference between men and women.
He gracefully stepped out the door, leaving behind the words, "This is my body."
I was on the verge of tears, and with the wind came his words, "You're so smelly, so smelly that I don't believe anyone else can handle you."
From that day on, he required me to take a bath at least three times a day, each time for no less than twenty minutes.
After bathing, one must apply fragrant balm and spray on rose perfume brought from the capital.
I couldn't take it anymore, "Why do you, a grown man, need to smell so good?"
He covered his nose and said, "Seeing you reminds me of a cesspool."
I was furious and wanted to yell at them, but I held back.
He also required me to comb his precious long hair neatly, trim his eyebrows, skillfully remove any newly grown beard hair, and absolutely no hair on his legs.
I'm groaning in despair; this is how handsome men are made!
He would carefully select my clothes every day, from underwear to long robes, and even my boots.
I was incredibly annoyed, but he calmly said, "I don't want you to tarnish my image."
I was going to say that since they've been sent to remote, impoverished areas, what's the point of worrying about image? Nothing is better than the image of money.
But after glancing at the huge stack of love letters that had just been delivered, I shut my mouth.
Being handsome does have its advantages; even when exiled to a harsh and cold place, he still attracts the attention of beautiful women.
Every month he would receive a ton of love letters from ministers' nieces, the queen's relatives' daughters, and many daughters from ordinary noble families, all writing about how much they liked and secretly loved him.
Even more outrageous, I also found some love letters from teenagers and men.
As I flipped through the letters, I couldn't help but ask, "Have you read these?"
"without."
“Some of these letters are very well written.” I pulled out a few and handed them to him, but he didn’t even look at them. He walked to the table, picked up the official documents, and said, “Burn them.”
"You're abusing your looks," I exclaimed.
He ignored me.
My whole body emanated a coldness that didn't belong to me.
***
As night fell, I stood in the steamy bathroom, stripped of all my clothes, looking at my alluring and seductive reflection in the large, mercury-colored mirror.
Deep blue, dark eyelashes; light blue, bright eyes; a straight, high nose; and a deep red, sensual lip line.
"She's so beautiful, with beautiful hair, and such perfect hair and muscles, yet she's an iceberg."
She has a golden ratio body proportion, a sexy inverted triangle pelvis, perfectly delicate facial features, and incredibly beautiful long silver hair.
Even the slight Adam's apple on her fair neck is incredibly alluring.
There's also a symbol of masculinity that allows one to absolutely win among a hundred men...
If this effeminate handsome man were edible, he would be a dish that everyone would fight tooth and nail to get their hands on.
"My lord, the banquet is about to begin," the head maid said respectfully outside the bathroom.
"good."
This is a victory celebration banquet held to commemorate the elimination of the zombies, supposedly a local custom. A banquet is held whenever a victory or success is achieved.
The simple stone hall was brightly lit, with musicians playing the accordion and violin merrily, and veiled dancers performing lively and sensual dances.
Charming laughter, undressing, and offering drinks with their lips are all signature moves of the hostesses.
Tengdi and his generals, each embracing a beautiful woman, were already quite drunk and oblivious to their surroundings.
A note from the author:
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