While struggling to decide on a jaw-dropping, attention-grabbing way to make an entrance, William Carter suddenly saw a white dotted line extending out from the coffin, while a black line reached in from outside the coffin—one black, one white, like two snakes tugging at each other from opposite sides.

Immediately, the previously curved black and white lines were pulled taut, as if two people were fiercely playing tug-of-war.

Creak... groan...

The Yintang acupoint between his brows was forcibly pulled open like a stage curtain.

Daylight broke. In an instant, a Buddhist chant resounded, and he seemed to see a radiant, seven-colored Buddha descending from the clouds, spinning, dreamlike and illusory, finally landing with profound mystery right in his Yintang.

Suddenly, “ten-zhang vision”—everything within a ten-zhang radius centered on the coffin was laid bare before his eyes.

Meanwhile, Brian Sullivan was surprised to discover that the black line outside the coffin was actually emanating from David Thompson, his love rival.

Who was emitting the white line?

Glancing back, he saw it came from a writhing gray mass, which was extremely thin, barely clinging to his own body, on the verge of dissipating at any moment.

“Death energy!”

Brian Sullivan immediately understood, because within this death energy, he sensed a very familiar aura.

Moreover, that aura was filled with resentment, dissatisfaction, anger, and even intense grievance.

“Don’t worry, William Carter, I’ll avenge you! David Thompson, he’ll die a miserable, miserable death.” Brian Sullivan fixed his gaze, his words ringing out with the force of a gong.

“...Mmm...”

It seemed he even heard a long sigh. Then, after a shudder, the gray mass condensed and plunged into the Yintang.

Instantly, a mysterious radiance burst forth, the faint Buddhist chant grew even more solemn, and the Buddha statue flashed by once more. Looking up, he found his vision had reached “thirty-zhang at a glance”—his ability to see through obstacles had tripled.

It seemed the original owner of this body harbored such deep resentment that, after death, he would rather forgo reincarnation and let his soul be devoured by that mysterious Yintang, empowering the one who had seized his body, just to resolve his grudges from life.

In that instant, a flood of memories surged into his mind.

William Carter, a native of Tianyang County, Haian Prefecture, Chu State, third son of the Chu family, one of the three great families of Tianyang. His mother, Liu Xiangyu, died shortly after William Carter was born.

On this mysterious land, there are five great nations and a dozen or so smaller ones: Qi, Chu, Yan, Zhao, and Qin—the five powers standing side by side.

This is an era where martial arts flourish, chivalry is revered, and heroes abound; martial strength is the foundation of a nation...

“Brother July... ah, I came today with a heart full of guilt to mourn you.

Though you died from anger at Tian Feng, the root cause still lies with me.

If Tian Feng hadn’t liked me, how could you have died of anger?

I am deeply remorseful...

My heart aches! I should never have let Tian Feng fall for me!

I wish I could die in your place, wuwuwu...” At this moment, David Thompson wore a face full of guilt, squatting, pounding his chest and squeezing out a few crocodile tears as he half-heartedly burned paper money.

After all, the Xiao family was also one of the three great families of Tianyang County.

Although the Li family was slightly stronger than the Xiao family, someone had died, after all. So David Thompson had to put on a show of mourning, purely for appearances.

But even a fool could tell that David Thompson wasn’t here to apologize—he was here to show off, to insult William Carter, to slap the Xiao family in the face.

“This guy is ruthless, not even sparing the dead.” Many people at the scene were muttering to themselves, and as for the Xiao family, if it weren’t for being in the mourning hall, they would have already rushed up to reenact Lu Zhishen beating up Zhen Guanxi.

“David Thompson... give me back my life...”

William Carter was moved—damn, time to vent some anger for this dead guy.

So, imitating the tone of a vengeful ghost, he pinched his nose and called out from inside the coffin in a drawn-out voice.

“Hmm? What’s that sound?” A sharp-eared distant relative of the Xiao family named Henry Carter muttered.

“It... it sounds like the third young master’s voice...” Another guy named Alice Scott was so scared his words came out stuttered.

David Thompson was also stunned when he heard it, quickly pricking up his ears and looking suspiciously at the coffin.

“Nonsense! The third young master has been dead for over ten days—are you possessed?” The Xiao family steward, Robert Carter, scolded with a stern face.

“David Thompson... give me back my life...” This time, William Carter’s voice was even firmer and heavier, drifting eerily through the mourning hall.

“Ah, there really is a ghost.” Henry Carter stammered in fright, and a foul stench wafted out from under his robe.

“And you call yourself a Xiao family relative? Such a coward, wetting your pants—if you’re not embarrassed, I’m disgusted!” David Thompson looked at Henry Carter with deliberate contempt, pinching his nose and glaring, his voice especially loud, clearly trying to use this to disgust the Xiao family.

However, his voice was trembling a bit too, showing his nerves weren’t that strong either.

“David Thompson! Give me back my life!”

Bang!

A loud crash suddenly rang out as the coffin lid was kicked open by William Carter, spinning as it slammed into the ceiling, and his body sprang out, lunging straight at David Thompson.