True Tycoon Her Empire, Her Rules ( Winnie and Suzan )
Chapter 136

Chapter 136 

Winnie wasn’t particularly interested in the Henderson family’s ongoing drama, Instead, she had chosen a moment to revisit the Smith Manor, the one that was rumored to be haunted, 

This time she wasn’t alone but brought along the Ghost Baby though. 

Winnie had dispatched the spirits of five young girls wronged by nefarious Naylor, but Ghost Baby still wasn’t quite up to par in terms of its spectral weight. Winnie figured it would be beneficial to let the spook marinate in the mansion’s accumulated spiritual energy.  S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Though the skeleton of Fortune Pillar had been removed, the mansion’s original design had been inspired by the traditional haunted houses. Those who seemed to breathe with a sinister life of their own harbored the darkness and the mystery. 

The removal of the negative energy left by Fortune Pillar had only made the place more suitable for nurturing a ghostly presence. 

Winnie let Ghost Baby come over every night to soak in the vibes, hoping to beef up its spiritual heft. 

With its doll–like appearance kicking and floating about with glee, the Ghost Baby seemed to delight in the mansion’s gloomy atmosphere. While Winnie was letting Ghost Baby take its nightly swim in the mansion’s dark energies, an unexpected figure suddenly appeared before her. 

The newcomer, her long hair elegantly tied up, was decked out in a seasonal suit from a high–end designer. At first glance, she looked every inch the fashionista if one could ignore her corpse–pale complexion and the almost tangible aura of ghostliness surrounding her. 

“What are you doing here?” Winnie quirked an eyebrow, her gaze lingering on the designer outfit that was unmistakably Suzan’s line, which was an eyesore for Winnie. 

“Weren’t you afraid some other spirit would take over your turf while you’re away?” she asked. with a touch of sarcasm. 

The ghost before her was none other than Gwyn, the same ghost that had haunted Quincy’s dreams and the tragic girl from an earlier tale in Winnie’s life. 

Gwyn had died at the tender age of 25, but her appearance now suggested someone in her thirties. Despite her attempts to dress up, she lacked the naive charm of a young ghost and didn’t carry the shy demeanor she had in life. Instead, she exuded the confidence one might associate with a ghost who had roamed the earth for half a century. 

“There’s another spirit keeping watch. Besides, there are no other major spooks around to challenge me.” Gwyn said with a note of negotiation, “Miss Bryant, you have to admit I did your a favor this time, right?” 

“A favor?” Winnie retorted coolly. 

Gwyn deflated her bravado a bit, but she still tried to maintain her dignity as a seasoned ghost, 

“You know I didn’t mess with the Hendersons out of respect for you. And the work I did on them 

was to avenge you.” 

Gwyn didn’t need to beat around the bush, If she had wanted to drive the Hendersons out of the mansion, she could have done it without the hassle. 

During the filming with the crew, Gwyn had behaved herself, not causing any trouble. 

After five decades of wandering, Gwyn had kept up with the times. 

“So I had the Hendersons hand over the villa to you, not to someone who could exorcise you.” 

Winnie was earnest, which made Gwyn a bit embarrassed. 

“Come on, we lived together for eighteen years. Don’t you have any conscience?” Gwyn continued. 

In her younger days, before Winnie had joined the Mystical Sects and could defend herself, it was Gwyn who had secretly helped her when Kathryn bullied her. 

Listening to the fifty–year–old ghost ramble, Winnie couldn’t help but ask, “What do you want with me?” 

She doubted Gwyn would leave her newly acquired villa just to chat. 

Gwyn, at the sight of Winnie’s impatience, got straight to the point and pulled out a photograph. “It’s about this. I wanted to get your opinion.” Gwyn said. 

Winnie, puzzled, took the photo and saw a young man in his mid–twenties, handsome but with a face that suggested he was a bit of a heart–breaker. 

Turning the photo over, she found his name and birthday. 

Winnie was even more perplexed and ventured cautiously, “Do you… have a thing for this guy? You want my help to set up a ghostly marriage?” 

Winnie didn’t wait for Gwyn to respond and flatly refused, “He’s still alive. The living can’t marry the dead. Let go of that fantasy.” 

Gwyn seemed almost insulted by the suggestion, her foot stomping in indignation. 

“Who wants a ghostly marriage?! Men are nothing but obstacles to ruling the ghost world! That photo was given to me!” 

Gwyn explained, “A young girl came by the villa yesterday, all secretive, making offerings. Crying about being deceived, she asked for my help and left this picture.” 

Winnie was at a loss for words. 

This was a new story for her, but Winnie quickly guessed the reason. 

“It’s probably because of that TV show,” she said, 

Chapter 130 

Gwyn nodded, “The girl heard that I could haunt people in their dreams, so she came to me hoping I’d give that scumbag a lesson.” 

There was a flicker of interest on Gwyn’s pale face, “I didn’t expect anyone to seek me out for this kind of thing. Though I can do it, I remember you saying ghosts shouldn’t mess with the living, especially those with no connection to me… So I came to you to see what you think.” 

Gwyn’s ghastly face was inches from Winnie’s, her eyes particularly unsettling in the dark of night. 

But Winnie was unmoved. “If you know you shouldn’t interfere, why ask me?” she said icily. 

“Well, the girl seemed genuinely pitiful,” Gwyn admitted, her expression stiff with hesitation, “She’d been cheated out of love and money by that jerk, but had no proof. She wouldn’t have sought a ghost’s aid if she wasn’t desperate.” 

Winnie listened to Gwyn’s tale, her mind churning with thoughts of ethics and the consequences of meddling in human affairs. 

People were such creatures, even when they trembled with fear, if they found themselves. backed into a corner, they clung to the hope that some divine justice would intervene on their behalf. 

Gwyn had been wronged by a good–for–nothing man, a real piece of work, who’d wrecked her life. Whenever she heard similar tales of woe, she found it impossible to remain indifferent. 

Yet, she was well aware that the Mystical Sects had their set of rules. 

Her story had gone viral on the internet, catching the eye of the powers that be. If Gwyn started raising hell now, she might not even need an introduction from Master Bryant before someone from the authorities came knocking to whisk her away. 

Gwyn had waited fifty long years to finally call that fancy villa her own, and she wasn’t about to let them take her away so soon. 

After much pondering, she decided to seek out Master Bryant’s wisdom. 

Winnie could tell that Gwyn was itching to meddle but feared the reckoning that might follow. 

Gwyn said that she wanted Winnie’s advice, but what Gwyn wanted to know was whether there. was a way to keep those supernatural masters in the dark about her interference. 

Winnie was speechless. 

“Did I look like I’m on ghosts?” Muttering to herself, Winnie watched as the Ghost Baby, who had been floating around the room, toddled over with its little stubby legs at a snail’s pace. It landed lightly on her shoulder, its big and glossy eyes moving curiously between her and the ghost Gwyn. 

Winnie sighed in silence. 

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