After the ghost-hunting master descended the mountain, his fame spread throughout the capital.

Jiang Dusheng followed Zeng Yanran through the corridor and stopped in front of a tightly closed door.

Zeng Yanran took a deep breath, turned to Jiang Dusheng and whispered, "Miss Jiang, please wait here for a moment while I go in and tell the master."

Her voice was weak, clearly indicating that she had foreseen the impending storm.

Jiang Dusheng nodded slightly and took a half step back to show his understanding.

Zeng Yanran pushed the door open and entered, then closed it slightly behind her.

Sure enough, a moment later, intense, suppressed arguments could be heard from inside.

First, Meng Qingxi rebuked him with shock, anger, and displeasure, "Nonsense! Have you gone mad?! You actually believe in such superstitious and absurd nonsense? You are the matriarch of the Meng family, how can you be so foolish!"

Then came Zeng Yanran's choked yet unusually stubborn voice, as if she had given up:

"Yes! I've gone mad! I've gone mad ever since you forced my Yan'er to jump off the cliff! Master, that's our daughter! Our living, breathing daughter!"

"shut up!"

Meng Qingxi's voice suddenly rose and then fell sharply, filled with anger, "When did I force her? It's her own impulsive nature and lack of common sense that's the problem!"

"I'll say it again, she accidentally fell off a cliff! This matter is already settled, don't mention it again, and don't bring any ghost stories into the Meng residence. It's a disgrace to the family!"

"Ended? It will never be over in my heart!" Zeng Yanran's sobs were filled with resentment. "I don't care if you truly don't believe it or dare not believe it, but if there's even the slightest chance to see Yan'er again, to hear her say a word, I will never give up!"

"You... are unreasonable!" Meng Qingxi was clearly furious.

"Bang!"

Then, Zeng Yanran suddenly pulled open the study door from the inside.

Her eyes were red-rimmed, her chest heaving, but her face remained calm.

She said to Jiang Dusheng, who was standing quietly outside the door, "Miss Jiang, please come in."

Jiang Dusheng stepped steadily into the study.

The study was spacious and arranged meticulously.

Against the wall are bookshelves that reach the ceiling, filled with classics, histories, philosophical works, and literary collections, arranged meticulously.

A man sat behind a huge rosewood desk.

He was about fifty years old, thin, dressed in a casual dark blue robe, and his hair was neatly combed, not a single strand out of place.

He had a dignified appearance, even resembling that of a scholar, and possessed the solemn demeanor of a civil official.

However, those eyes were now sharply scrutinizing Jiang Dusheng.

His lips were pressed into a stern line, his jawline was taut, and his whole person resembled a stone polished by etiquette and rules to have sharp edges and corners.

He saw Jiang Dusheng, but did not get up. Instead, he slammed the book in his hand onto the table with a dull thud.

His gaze was filled with undisguised skepticism. "Miss Jiang, you are also a young lady from an official family. You should know propriety, righteousness, integrity, and a sense of shame."

"Why do you use such absurd and nonsensical remarks to deceive and bewitch my wife, causing her to become confused and act erratically? What exactly is your intention?"

Upon hearing this, Jiang Dusheng didn't even flinch.

There's no point in wasting words explaining to someone who's imprisoned by their own perceptions.

She was too lazy to respond to Meng Qingxi's questioning, and even too lazy to look at his self-righteous and stern expression.

She raised her right hand, bringing her index and middle fingers together, and a faint golden light suddenly shone from the tip of her finger.

She used her fingertips as a guide to swiftly draw a rune in front of her.

As her fingertips moved, the runes drew in the faint spiritual energy and light within the study, quickly coalescing.

"Empty rooms are filled with light, and souls respond to their call!"

"Show!"

With a clear shout, the pale gold runes suddenly emitted a soft light.

At the center of the light, Jiang Dusheng's fingertips shone with a thread of spiritual light, pointing towards the location of Meng Xueyan's soul body beside him.

In an instant, right in front of Meng Qingxi's desk, countless tiny, pale golden dust particles appeared out of thin air in the previously empty space.

Amidst the interplay of light and shadow, the figure of a slender woman became clear at an astonishing speed.

Meng Xueyan's soul was fully revealed, even clearer than yesterday, with beautiful features, yet carrying an inescapable sorrow and pallor.

His body was surrounded by the icy aura of the dead.

She stood there quietly, her gaze fixed on Meng Qingxi, who froze behind the desk, her pupils shrinking in shock.

The air in the study seemed to freeze.

The light seemed to dim slightly, focusing on the suddenly appearing ghostly figure.

Zeng Yanran covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face, staring intently at her daughter's figure, trembling with emotion.

Meng Qingxi felt as if she had been struck by lightning.

He suddenly sprang up from his chair, bracing himself against the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white.

The sternness and skepticism on his face were replaced by shock and horror.

His wide eyes were bloodshot as he stared intently at his daughter, who could never possibly be there, yet stood right before him.

"You...you..." Meng Qingxi opened her mouth, all the etiquette and doctrines, all the rational cognition, were completely overturned at this moment.

His face drained of color, and his body leaned back uncontrollably, almost tipping over the heavy chair.

"Yan'er! My Yan'er!" Zeng Yanran could no longer contain himself the moment he saw Meng Xueyan's soul image fully manifest.

She cried out and rushed forward, opening her arms to embrace the figure she had longed for day and night.

However, her arms passed straight through Meng Xueyan's soul, only embracing a wisp of cold air and a few wisps of pale golden dust that had not yet dissipated.

She staggered for a moment before regaining her balance, her eyes blurred with tears as she looked at her daughter, so close yet so unreachable. Grief and helplessness almost overwhelmed her.

Meng Xueyan's soul took a slight step back, watching her mother's bewildered and pained expression after missing her target. A sorrowful smile appeared on her beautiful face as she softly said:

"Mother, don't bother. I'm a ghost now, I have no physical body, and I can no longer touch you."

These words were like the last straw, breaking Zeng Yanran's fragile nerves.

Looking at her daughter's unreal face, she finally broke down in uncontrollable sobs, a heart-wrenching cry filled with despair and regret.

Meng Xueyan couldn't bear to look away, but her gaze eventually fell on Meng Qingxi behind the desk.

Her eyes became complex, filled with sorrow, estrangement, and resentment, before finally settling into stubbornness.

She slightly raised her ethereal chin, facing the face filled with horror, and spoke:

"Father, I have a question. Although I already know the answer in my heart, I still want to ask you in person."

Meng Qingxi's throat bobbed violently, as if she had used immense strength to squeeze out a few trembling syllables from between her teeth: "Yan... Yan'er? Is it... really you?"

His gaze was fixed on his daughter, trying to find a flaw in the illusion, but her familiar features and expression were exactly the same as he remembered.

"Yes, Father." Meng Xueyan's voice was soft, but every word struck a chord in people's hearts. "I only learned after I died that if a person has an obsession and is too unwilling to accept things, their soul cannot be reborn and can only wander aimlessly in the place of their obsession."

"As for me... I've been wandering around Changling City for a long time."