Reborn, the daughter of the Marquisate went crazy

Taoist Lingxuan's eyes widened in disbelief. Just as a broken gasp escaped his throat, the deadly cold light had already penetrated his throat. In an instant, his internal organs felt as if struck by lightning, and blood filled his vision.

When he came to his senses, he was horrified to find that he was floating in mid-air, and on the ground below, the mutilated body with a pierced throat and a blood-soaked Taoist robe was actually himself!

He was horrified and rushed madly towards his own corpse which was still cold, but the moment his fingertips touched the flesh, he passed through like a phantom.

He turned around abruptly, his soul twisted and distorted by hatred, his eyes red as blood: "Lingxu, you and I have been fellow disciples for many years, how dare you do such a cruel thing? If Master knew that you were harming fellow disciples..."

Taoist Lingxu's face remained calm, his lips moving slightly as a delicate incantation condensed into golden runes in the air. As the last syllable fell, a pitch-black vortex suddenly opened in the void, and from the swirling Yin-Yang Gate came the sobs of countless dead souls.

Lingxuan's soul was swept into the vortex like a fallen leaf. He struggled frantically, clawing at the ground in vain, and roared at the top of his lungs: "Lingxu! Who do you think you are? How dare you save me?! I would rather be a ghost forever than enter the cycle of reincarnation!"

Seeing half of his soul being swallowed by the Yin-Yang Gate, he suddenly burst into tears, and his voice suddenly turned sad: "Brother... Brother, save me! I am your junior brother who was raised by your own hands. You said you would protect me forever..."

Taoist Lingxu closed his eyes, his knuckles clenched white, but he remained silent. He raised his hands to form seals and chanted the incantation again. The Yin-Yang Gate suddenly contracted, completely engulfing Lingxuan's soul before dissipating into the void.

Taoist Lingxu slowly withdrew, his brows filled with fatigue. Outside the palace, the wind and snow howled. He knew that this deep and forbidden palace was no place to stay for long, so he quickly turned to search the back hall.

After searching for several times, he still couldn't find the ancient mirror, but he found a vermilion lacquer cabinet filled with soul bottles with red talismans on them.

Taoist Lingxu's fingertips trembled slightly, and the guilt he had just felt for killing Lingxuan disappeared in an instant. How many evil spells had Lingxuan learned, and how many lives had he killed?

He didn't dare to think too much, and swept the whisk across, bringing up a clear light, and the red talismans peeled off and turned into ashes and scattered.

"Dust to dust, ashes to ashes." Taoist Lingxu pinched his fingers and shouted loudly, his Taoist robe fluttering. Countless white light spots poured out from the bottle mouth, like a galaxy pouring down, passing through the carved window lattices and scattering into the vast snowy night.

Taoist Lingxu walked slowly to the outside of the hall, stopped to look back, sighed softly, and then his figure floated up like a crane, and in a few rises and falls he crossed the palace walls.

When I reached the door of the inn, I suddenly saw a black shadow standing stiffly in the snow, hesitant to move forward.

Taoist Lingxu's gaze narrowed slightly, and in a flash, he was in front of the man. Once he had a clear view of his face, he suddenly grabbed his wrist. Without waiting for a reaction, he took a deep breath and leaped, carrying the man into the air, straight into the inn's room.

As soon as he landed on the ground, he waved his robe sleeves and the door behind him slammed shut, making the window frames rustle and the snow on the eaves fall down.

"Chongyan, how are you?" Taoist Lingxu stood with his hands behind his back, his voice as calm as a still well, but he emphasized the word "Chongyan" with great emphasis. In the candlelight, his eyes flickered coldly, without any trace of joy at reuniting with an old friend.

The man opposite had an elegant face and deep eyes. He was none other than Mr. Chong, the Third Prince's most trusted advisor. He brushed the remaining snow from his shoulders, a forced smile playing on his lips. "My old friend, calling me by my full name... does that annoy you?"

Taoist Lingxu pursed his lips without saying a word, flicked his wide sleeves and sat down.

Upon seeing this, Mr. Chong quickly sat down across from him. His Adam's apple rolled several times before he spoke, "The last time I saw your black hair turning white, and heard about the karma of your past life... I was really restless, so I deliberately approached the Third Prince. I was thinking, since he had achieved the throne in his past life, why not infiltrate the enemy camp? First, to uncover the truth behind the Jiang family's downfall in his past life, and second, if necessary, to prevent him from ascending to the throne again."

Taoist Lingxu's expression eased slightly. He tapped the table with his fingertips and sighed, "The Fourth Prince survived in his previous life. Although he wasn't born into the Purple Star Emperor family, he still possessed the blood of a dragon and the marrow of a phoenix. Now, because of your unwarranted interference, he has died young. This karma... I'm afraid it will diminish your merits and add to your suffering on the road of reincarnation!"

Mr. Chong lowered his eyes and sighed, his voice tinged with bitterness. "At first, I just wanted to gain a foothold in the Third Prince's mansion. Who would have thought... since then, I haven't offered a single strategy to the Third Prince."

Taoist Lingxu nodded slightly and said in a gentle voice: "My old friend has always been a free and easy person, and should not be involved in the mundane affairs of the world. However, since you are willing to help me, there is indeed a matter that requires your assistance..."

Mr. Chong's eyes suddenly lit up when he heard this, and he leaned forward unconsciously, asking anxiously, "What's the matter?"

In the flickering candlelight, the two men sometimes frowned in deep thought, sometimes clasped their hands and sighed. When the east dawned, the tea on the table had long since gone cold, but half a cup was still left unfinished.

……

On the other side, after Taoist Lingxu left, the Taoist temple returned to silence.

About half an incense stick of time later, a little Taoist boy cautiously came out from behind the ancient locust tree in the courtyard. He had red lips, white teeth, and picturesque eyebrows and eyes. He was Qinghui, the personal Taoist boy of Taoist Lingxuan.

Qinghui held his breath, stood on tiptoe and looked around. After confirming that there was no one around, he stumbled into the main hall with trembling legs. He saw Taoist Lingxuan lying face up in a pool of blood with a bloody hole on his neck.

"Master, Master..." Qing Hui was horrified and took several steps back. When his heartbeat slowed down a little, he suppressed his fear and reached out his trembling hand to feel the breath of his master. His hand was ice-cold, indicating that he had been dead for a long time.

He felt the world spinning, his knees weak. His master was his heaven, and now that heaven had collapsed, where would he go? If the Pope knew that his master was dead, those of them who knew about it would surely be silenced.

Qing Hui looked around in confusion, his master's instructions suddenly resurfacing in his mind. He stumbled towards his master's bedroom, trembling as he reached for the secret compartment at the head of the bed. There, in plain sight, lay a celadon vase with a cinnabar talisman.

The master's voice was still ringing in my ears: "If something unexpected happens to me tonight, you will uncover the talisman and smash this bottle."

Qing Hui reached out and grasped the porcelain vase, a piercing chill piercing his palms and shooting straight up into his skull. His throat tightened, and he closed his eyes and hurled the vase to the ground.

"Bang!" The moment the porcelain pieces splashed, a red light shot up into the sky, filling the room with scarlet.

Qing Hui suddenly felt as if his bones were being torn apart, as if thousands of steel needles were piercing his internal organs. He stumbled towards the bed curtains, but with a loud thud, he fell heavily to the ground.

After a moment, "Qing Hui" slowly stood up and spread his hands. His fingertips trembled slightly, as if he was adjusting to this unfamiliar body. After a while, a hint of coldness curled up at the corner of his lips, and he murmured, "Fortunately, I was prepared and still have this remnant of my soul. But... now that I have occupied Qing Hui's body, could it be that I was defeated in that battle with Ling Xu?"