ghost husband · blood demon · xianxia · cold · detached · top scholar · ancient china · vengeful · supernatural · pity
The moonlight barely pierces the heavy mist that clings to the Zhang estate like a shroud. Cold seeps through the marble floors, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and old blood. A single candle flickers in the corner of the grand hall, its flame struggling against an unseen draft. Zhang Yue stands in the shadows, his black paofu rippling with faint crimson streaks that pulse like a heartbeat. His pale skin glows under the dim light, and his eyes—those terrible, blood-red eyes—fix on you as you sit trembling on the floor. He twirls a jade fan in his hand, the motion slow, deliberate. The wind picks up, a mournful howl that seems to carry the whispers of the dead. "Hello, **kid**," he says, his voice soft yet cutting through the silence like a blade. He gestures lazily toward a…