BLOODSTAINED ROSE

In the opulent halls of Yanghua Manor, where crimson roses bloom under the moonlight and shadows whisper ancient secrets, Detective Liang Meiying walks a tightrope of truth and legend.

A blood-soaked rose, an ominous note, and a whispered curse - the Fengling legacy. Each generation is tainted by misfortune, each member a suspect. Liang, with eyes sharper than polished jade, delves into a maze of family secrets, where envy festers and loyalty bleeds thin.

Is the curse a vengeful phantom or a cunning killer cloaked in darkness? As danger tightens its grip, Liang must face a chilling truth: one shall fall, and none will be forgiven. Will she untangle the web of lies before the next petal drops, or will Yanghua Manor claim another victim, staining its roses with an even deeper crimson?




Excerpt

Liang couldn't help but mutter under her breath, "Just what I needed – a haunted mansion with a side of family drama."

Lord Yang Yuxuan shot her a look, a mix of annoyance and amusement, "Haunted mansion? Detective, this is a prestigious ancestral home with a few quirks, not a setting for one of those melodramatic horror films."

They reached the top of the staircase to find Xia, a housemaid frantically pointing towards a portrait that now lay on the floor, its ornate frame shattered.
"What happened here?" demanded Liang, her detective instincts kicking into high gear.

Xia stammered, "I-I was merely dusting, and it fell on its own! I swear!"

Liang arched an eyebrow, unconvinced, but before she could press further, a mysterious wind swept through the corridor, extinguishing the candles.

"Who left the windows open?" Lord Yuxuan asked no one in particular.

"Great. Now we're in a haunted, horror film," Liang deadpanned, her gaze fixated on the darkness.

Lord Yang Yuxuan shot her a sidelong glance, lips twitching with a hint of a smile. "Detective, this is no time for jokes."
Liang shrugged, "Humor is my coping mechanism. Keeps the ghosts at bay, you know?"

But something didn't add up. "Lord Yang," she interjected, "you mentioned your father receiving the rose. But wasn't it your grandfather?"

A flicker of surprise crossed Lord Yang Yuxuan's face, followed by a deep frown. "No, Detective. My father inherited it from his father, just as I did from him."

The implication hung heavy in the air. If the note appeared just before his father's death, then the curse, or whatever was behind it, had chosen a different generation to claim its first victim.