Chapter 27: Qian+Kang – You’re so beautiful and smell so good

“You’re so beautiful,” the ghost said softly. “I put you in a dress. It suits you perfectly, doesn’t it?”

Jiang Shulan couldn’t control his own body. Guided by the ghost, he walked to a mirror.

Reflected there was himself wearing a fitted silk slip dress in white. It covered only the necessary parts of his body, while a layer of black gauze draped over it made everything appear hazy and indistinct.

The black mesh flowed from his chest all the way to his ankles, cinched gently at the waist with a narrow ribbon of the same material tied into a bow. The loose ends hung at his side.

It was undeniably beautiful.

But he was a boy!

Why was a ghost dressing him in a skirt?

In that instant, Jiang Shulan’s anger over being put into women’s clothing completely overshadowed his fear of the ghost.

Yet something even more infuriating followed.

The ghost actually began applying eyeliner and lipstick.

Watching his reflection become increasingly refined and striking, Jiang Shulan’s face flushed red with embarrassment. His eyes grew moist, and after tears washed over his blue irises, they looked even more breathtaking.

The ghost praised him again.

“Perfect. That expression is gorgeous. I won’t even bother giving you colored contacts or eye shadow.”

He heard the sound of a camera shutter.

[System, what are you doing?]

[? I’m not doing anything.]

[You expect me to believe that?]

[You really do look beautiful.]

It only wanted to save a few photos. It truly hadn’t taken that many…

The ghost continued its compliments without restraint.

“Your waist is so slender. Your hair is lovely. Even your fingers are beautiful…”

By the time Constantine sensed something was wrong and found Jiang Shulan, Jiang Shulan had become completely numb to the endless praise.

Constantine made no move to catch the ghost. After all, in a sense, the spirit had unexpectedly done him a favor.

He strolled over to Jiang Shulan and stopped very close to him. Bending slightly, he lowered his head until his nose hovered near Jiang Shulan’s neck.

He smelled wonderful.

The scent was so intoxicating that it made Constantine’s head spin, bringing with it a strange ache that somehow felt pleasurable.

Unable to run or move, Jiang Shulan could only look at him pitifully and say,

“I can’t move.”

“Can’t move?”

Constantine closed his eyes, drawing in that fragrance with every breath.

His voice became rough and hoarse.

He lifted Jiang Shulan from the chair, sat down himself, and settled Jiang Shulan onto his lap.

Then he casually loosened his belt with one hand hidden behind Jiang Shulan’s back.

“I’ll give you a little holy water,” he said. “Then you’ll be able to move again.”

He was lying.

In truth, eliminating the ghost would have restored Jiang Shulan’s freedom immediately.

But seeing the person who had appeared in his dreams dressed like this…

If he could restrain himself, he wouldn’t be Constantine.

The quality of the dress the ghost had chosen wasn’t especially good. The black gauze around the legs tore with only slight force.

The white inner skirt had an uneven hemline—short in front and long in back—with the shortest edge ending midway up the thighs and the longest falling to the calves. Its unfinished edges made it easy to lift.

The spirit world was colder than reality, so Jiang Shulan’s trembling seemed only natural. He was wearing such a short dress, and even the outer layer of black gauze had been damaged.

Still…

Was it really that cold?

His entire body shook. Cold sweat dampened him, and tears streamed down his face.

But the weather wasn’t something he could control, was it?

While pressing a kiss to Jiang Shulan’s collarbone, Constantine murmured softly,

“It’ll warm up soon.”

Perhaps he had gone too far.

Jiang Shulan lost consciousness.

There were many reasons, anger, embarrassment, worry…

For the first time in his life, Constantine felt guilty, because he knew he had deliberately frightened Jiang Shulan with a few words while he was crying.

The feeling faded quickly.

After all, Jiang Shulan had promised him that if he brought Dalton back, then he would simply have to accept the outcome.

Constantine carried Jiang Shulan into a room, arranged a protective ward around him, and then headed off in the direction Elise had indicated to search for Dalton.

Not wanting Jiang Shulan to wake up frightened, Constantine grabbed Dalton the moment he found him and hurried back as fast as he could, hoping to return before Jiang Shulan regained consciousness.

Instead, he found only an empty room.

At first, he assumed Jiang Shulan had awakened and returned to the real world on his own.

But that wasn’t the case.

Jiang Shulan had never woken up, and even Elise had no idea where he had gone.

He wasn’t in the spirit realm.

Nor had he reached Heaven.

Then where could he be?

Constantine replayed everything that had happened in his mind. His expression darkened.

Damn it.

He had forgotten just how pure Jiang Shulan’s aura was. Even that brief kiss had left traces of Constantine’s own presence on him.

And the spirit realm existed between Earth and Hell…

Could Lucifer have mistaken him for the dead and dragged Jiang Shulan’s soul down into Hell?

At that very moment, Jiang Shulan slowly opened his eyes.

The mirror from before his collapse was gone.

In its place stood ruined walls engulfed in flames. Bloodstained strips of cloth fluttered through endless yellow sands, while severed limbs still dripping with blood lay scattered beneath his feet.

[System… did I transmigrate again?]

Only after receiving the system’s negative answer did Jiang Shulan finally pay attention to himself.

He was still wearing that dress, except now a black suit jacket had been draped over his shoulders.

It belonged to that shameless rogue who had flaunted himself without the slightest embarrassment in front of the mirror and had even forced Jiang Shulan to watch.

“Constantine!”

Grinding his teeth, Jiang Shulan pronounced the scoundrel’s name with unmistakable anger.

He desperately wanted to throw the jacket onto the ground and stomp on it several times.

Unfortunately, the bottom of the dress had been left wrinkled after Constantine’s rough handling. The shortest part would ride up with even the slightest movement, exposing the tops of his thighs.

Constantine was much taller and broader than he was, something Jiang Shulan had never really thought about before.

Only now, with the oversized suit jacket hanging loosely on his body, its hem nearly reaching the shortest part of the dress, did he truly realize just how great the difference in their sizes was.

Even so, he wasn’t afraid.

Clutching the edge of the jacket tightly, Jiang Shulan swore through gritted teeth,

“Constantine, when I get back, I’m going to kill you!”

“Constantine?”

The newcomer wore a white suit and stood about the same height as Constantine.

He was dressed in a meticulously tailored cream-colored linen suit whose soft fabric and perfectly pressed lines gave him the appearance of a refined gentleman.

Yet he was barefoot.

The soles of his feet were stained with black tar, and each step left behind sticky, pitch-dark footprints across the pale floor.

His gray-blue eyes held a lazy smile that seemed to see through everything—a smile so calm that it sent chills creeping down one’s spine.

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