Eldritch Horror Theatre

The walls had ears, but he feigned ignorance.

Perhaps Old Man Ji’s Rank hadn’t been as high as His Excellency Jose’s at the time, but the situation here was fundamentally different from the one in the Small Prayer Room.

For Fu Qian, he had previously hijacked Jose’s own perspective directly. As long as his target couldn’t break the dimensional barrier, he hadn’t needed to worry about being detected.

But this time, he was here as a living, breathing physical entity. Hiding right under a transcendent’s nose was virtually impossible.

Under these circumstances, Old Man Ji’s attitude became quite intriguing.

First, staying true to one’s original aspiration—based on prior deductions, he was almost certainly here on a mission.

Fostering a romance on the side was fine, but there was no way his entire focus was on this tryst.

Therefore, the conversation happening just outside was inherently bizarre.

Going out of his way to disguise himself as the groom, luring the groom’s former lover into a private chamber, and tirelessly whispering sweet nothings—even throwing out dramatic lines like ”marriage is a prison.”

His motives were definitely impure, but not in the traditional, carnal sense.What exactly was Old Man Ji trying to do?

Simple. He wanted to complete his mission.

Exactly. No matter how melodramatic the scene appeared, Fu Qian believed it was almost certainly part of Old Man Ji’s solution.

Including pretending not to know someone was hiding in the wardrobe.

Naturally, Fu Qian was incredibly interested in this solution.

After all, a solution always reflects the problem it’s meant to solve. Figuring out the old man’s methods would effectively help unravel the secrets surrounding the Laria Family.

Now it was time to see if, after spouting such dramatic words, the old man would pull the wardrobe open or continue pretending the person inside didn’t exist.

His choice in this matter would undoubtedly reveal a lot of information.

”What do you think? To think I actually believed you when you said I was the only woman who had ever entered this room.”

Outside, the young lady seemed to validate Don Juan’s guess, admitting she had indeed hidden inside the wardrobe before. The heartbreak in her words was genuinely moving.

”Why don’t you open it and experience for yourself just how agonizingly long time feels when you’re standing in there?”

...

Not bad. There was even an assist.

Having eavesdropped the entire time, Fu Qian—well-versed in all varieties of melodramatic soap operas—had zero interest in the romantic angst of these young folks.

However, he thoroughly appreciated the young lady’s final suggestion.

Even though it was just an emotional outburst, it forced Old Man Ji to confront the issue head-on—

”I don’t need to. I already know.”

The effect was immediate. After only a slight hesitation, Old Man Ji let out a long sigh, moving his mouth but not his feet.

”Because I have experienced it more than once. Especially when my father informed me of the marriage... You might have heard rumors of his temper, but believe me, you never want to experience it face-to-face.

”I rehearsed my objections countless times. Unfortunately, every single time, before I could even open my mouth, I was met with the sheer mockery on his face... Can you imagine what that was like?”

Oh... Was the old man really this dedicated? There was definitely an ulterior motive here.

He had to admit, this portrayal of Don Juan was spot-on. This Warehouse Senior had clearly put a massive amount of effort into his performance.

He nailed the subtle nuances, bringing immense immersion to the role, including that quiet, underlying despair.

Of course, Fu Qian’s focus wasn’t on the acting. He was curious about the underlying agenda driving this tireless performance.

It seemed Old Man Ji was genuinely relying on talk therapy alone to sway his former lover?

Fu Qian acknowledged that the old man was doing an excellent job on that front, but they were in the middle of a time-sensitive mission. Was he really not going to employ any unconventional methods?

After all, this was a fully prepared transcendent, operating inside a private space that no one could detect.

He didn’t even need violent coercion. Just like Eldest Miss Wen, he could have easily used something to subtly influence her emotions without breaking a sweat.

Yet the old man stubbornly refused to do so, insisting on this completely natural, manual approach—why?

”Why should I understand? When have you ever understood me—Mmph!”

While Fu Qian let his imagination run wild, the romantic entanglement outside had apparently reached its climax.

The young lady’s voice was trembling. She desperately tried to shake off his hands, stumbling and nearly tripping over her own dress in the process.

Unfortunately, not only did she fail, but she also accidentally tumbled toward him, allowing him to wrap an arm around her slender waist.

What followed was the very commotion that had started this entire scene.

Suppressed panting, the frantic entanglement of lips and tongues, the hem of a dress being dragged out of sight... and even more indescribable acts.

...

Impressive moves. It was indeed the most logical course of action in this situation.

Truthfully, he didn’t even need auditory cues to imagine the scene unfolding out there.

How did the saying go again?

No matter what a person said, if they were willing to follow you into a confined space, they had already signaled their true intentions.

And as a seasoned playboy, how could Don Juan fail to grasp that?

Thus, the outcome of this locked-room struggle had been practically predetermined from the start.

No matter how pathetic the old man appeared on the surface, he had victory firmly in hand. It was simply a matter of steering the situation to its conclusion as naturally as possible.

The real question was, why had he chosen the most natural approach... refraining from using any supernatural elements and relying solely on manipulating her emotions the old-fashioned way?

He didn’t just want her body; he even wanted her heart, regardless of it being the day of his wedding...

Wasn’t that leaning a bit too far into depravity—the whole point was doing it on the day of his wedding.

A moment later, Fu Qian marveled inwardly, feeling he had faintly grasped Old Man Ji’s true purpose.

Posing as the groom while ditching the bride, sneaking off for a tryst with a former lover, and painstakingly acting out a romantic drama.

He wasn’t doing it for her living flesh, but for what was being nurtured within that flesh and soul?

It was entirely conceivable that after this moment of passion, the wedding would proceed exactly as planned. And as a spectator in the audience, what kind of emotions would this woman be feeling?

Were those intense ripples of the human soul crucial to the goal Old Man Ji was trying to achieve?

Had this been anywhere other than Ehm Palace, Fu Qian might not have leaned toward such a theory. But one couldn’t forget the historical name for this joyous day—

The Blood Wedding.

Legend had it that a significant number of the female guests in attendance went home and murdered their husbands.

The other main character of the wedding—the bride—was suspected to be the Punished Consort, corrupted by the Father’s Amnion.

And as everyone knew, Excellency Stomach’s signature ability was pleasure. It carried a profoundly depraved aura, focusing entirely on the twisting and evolution of human nature.

Was Old Man Ji the true culprit behind the Blood Wedding? Was he trying to plant an alternative seed within the female guests?