Happy Doomsday Ch255

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 255: Secret Plan

“I was saying, how could you possibly contact us for no reason?”

It was early morning. Lao Yu let out a loud yawn on the video. “Is that all the materials? I think there’s nothing wrong with it. Xiaoman, come and take a look.”

“The delivery can be completed in half a month.” Ji Xiaoman skillfully confirmed the list.

“Okay, I’ll transfer the fee to you later.” Ruan Xian nodded.

Ruan Xian’s personal laboratory was unable to handle the storage and processing of many special materials—they require extreme conditions, giant equipment, and a lot of energy. Only a large enterprise would have such conditions to handle them.

So Yu Le and Ji Xiaoman’s company became Ruan Xian’s supplier, providing customized services exclusively for him.

…Speaking of which, Ruan Xian’s needs were usually fixed, but this time, he suddenly had new requirements.

Lao Yu yawned again and glanced at the list. “Hey, these things look like electronic brain components. Are you going to give Tang Yibu a brother or sister? Or are you two making a baby?”

Ruan Xian took a sip of hot tea and didn’t answer.

Ji Xiaoman hesitated. “Are you playing to make a new container for MUL-01…”

“Of course not,” Ruan Xian said. “By the way, this matter must be kept secret from Tang Yibu.”

Seeing Ruan Xian’s serious attitude, Yu Le and Ji Xiaoman consciously stopped asking. The relationship between this human-android couple couldn’t be predicted by common sense, and they didn’t want to get involved.

At this moment, in the living room downstairs.

Tang Yibu was watching over the pot, leisurely cooking honey-glazed barbeque.

Sunlight streamed through the huge French windows, evenly spreading over the barbeque along with the syrup. Amidst the heat, the gravy and honey sparkled.

Tang Yibu couldn’t help but have a little taste. It was just right; Mr. Ruan’s favorite flavor.

His body had just finished maintenance, and his physical body was steadily improving. The results of this physical examination showed that his sense of tense had increased by about 5%.

Tang Yibu adjusted his apron and secretly ate another piece of meat.

Normally, at this time, Ruan Xian would finish his morning reading, go downstairs for breakfast, and they would exchange a kiss before their meal. But today, Tang Yibu had finished a whole skewer of meat but still didn’t get a good morning kiss from his Mr. Ruan.

He turned down the flame and without even taking off his apron, jumped up the stairs.

Ruan Xian was writing and drawing at his desk, apparently lost in his own world. Seeing Tang Yibu approach, he casually closed his notebook and took it in his hand.

“Barbeque for breakfast? It smells delicious.” He smiled at Tang Yibu.

Tang Yibu didn’t have any suspicions. When Ruan Xian was thinking about an issue, he often would get lost in his own world.

He happily walked over and kissed Ruan Xian on the cheek. “Hurry downstairs or the meat will get overcooked.”

However, from that day on, Ruan Xian’s frequency of “selflessness” increased rapidly. He began staying up late, holed up in his private laboratory… Worst of all, they even had less time for intimacy at night.

This scene gave Tang Yibu a subtle sense of déjà vu. He suddenly remembered that when his electronic brain wasn’t yet completed, Mr. Ruan was always busy like this.

But his electronic brain had been completed long ago, and the optimization over the years had been focused on his physical body, so the complexity wasn’t that high.

Strange. What on earth is his Mr. Ruan busy with?

……

Ruan Xian recently discovered that Tang Yibu might be growing in every corner of the house.

Tang Yibu noticed his daily changes and asked him several times. Seeing that Ruan Xian was avoiding the answer, Tang Yibu didn’t insist on asking, giving him some space.

But this couldn’t dispel someone’s curiosity.

Afterwards, when Ruan Xian was researching alone, Tang Yibu would appear from all sorts of strange places—

He had a simple meal in the lab, and Tang Yibu came in to deliver eighteen different types of snacks; he went to the water bar to make coffee, and Tang Yibu would go into the water cabinet to check the screws; he went to the warehouse to get materials, and Tang Yibu would be counting inventory one shelf over.

The most exaggerated time was when several large boxes of consumables were delivered to the lab, Ruan Xian opened the box and saw an android curled up inside.

“Enclosed spaces are great for meditation.” Tang Yibu tried to argue seriously while hugging his knees.

Ruan Xian: “……”

He could almost see the question marks and expectation gleaming in the other person’s eyes. Tang Yibu stopped asking questions outwardly, but in the end, it just softened his defenses in a different way.

Ruan Xian patted Tang Yibu’s head in amusement and said, “Alright, how much have you investigated?”

Tang Yibu squeezed deeper into the box and asked, “What investigation?”

Ruan Xian gave him a meaningful look.

Tang Yibu’s eyes became purer, as if he was trying to exude an innocent aura.

Ruan Xian smiled, crossed his arms, and continued to stare at his android.

Less than half a minute later, Tang Yibu gave a few grunts, and his voice became increasingly softer. “Depending on the materials you use and the changes in our family’s funds… I guess you are doing research on a new type of electronic brain…”

At the end, his voice rose a bit. “Are you really going to create a new electronic brain?”

Before Ruan Xian could answer, Tang Yibu started spouting off.

He went from, “I’m an exceptionally rare case of success”, to, “The reason of MUL-01 failure”, to, “The crisis of proliferation of mechanical life”, and even, “I forgot to control my anger and just listened to the announcement on the tablet”.

In this way, Tang Yibu almost created a research paper out of thin air, probably titled: “On the Dangers of the Birth of a Second Electronic Brain”.

Looking at his awkward expression, it was hard to tell whether he was just an adult only child who just discovered his parents having a second child at such an older age, or one party in a long-standing DINK family announcing the cancellation of their philosophy.

…He looked quite aggrieved.

No, now’s not the time to be soft-hearted.

Ruan Xian remained expressionless. He slowly lifted the id of the box and closed it, then pushed the shaking box out of the lab.

Finally, half a month passed.

Another morning, Yu Le opened a video call and started howling.

“Your Tang Yibu has targeted us and hacked all the company’s surveillance cameras!”

Yu Le collapsed. “Not only is he watching everything we ship, but he’s also specifically targeting us. Wherever we go, all the cameras are following us. This is fucking terrifying! Big Boss, how long are you going to keep this a secret?!”

“I’ll take care of it,” Ruan Xian said.

Tang Yibu seemed to be too curious. It was almost time. Ruan Xian put on his white shirt and picked up the small box he had prepared long ago.

Downstairs, Tang Yibu was still making breakfast. This time, he was cooking noodles. His golden eyes seemed to have their own coordination as they instinctively zeroed in on Ruan Xian’s direction.

“We’re having plain noodles with boiled eggs this morning. I made tea in advance.” Tang Yibu pretended that everything was fine.

“Would you like some candy?” Ruan Xian asked.

Tang Yibu: “?”

Ruan Xian took out a metal candy box he was carrying under his arms and shook it. A faint sweet smell emanated from the box.

This was a good sign from Mr. Ruan! Tang Yibu twitched his nose and quickly rubbed against Ruan Xian. “Of course I’ll eat it.”

Ruan Xian smiled and picked up the golden candy ball. In the morning sun, it shone with a strange metallic luster, making it difficult to tell what material it was made of.

Tang Yibu opened his mouth in agreement. He had a feeling this wasn’t just candy, but Ruan Xian had already fed it to him. Even if it was poisoned, he had to swallow it. He bit down on the candy ball, his lips deliberately brushing against Ruan Xian’s fingertips.

The candy melted in his mouth, exuding a rich sweetness and a strange coolness. The coldness flowed through his throat and seeped into his brain.

It was as if a gentle breeze blew past his brain, and Tang Yibu felt a sense of relief, as if his nasal congestion, which had lasted for years, finally cleared up. He almost felt like he was floating.

This thing was too delicious. Tang Yibu looked at Ruan Xian eagerly. Then he quickly remembered something and tried to suppress his happy smile, his expression changing to a less skilled reserved one.

“Mr. Ruan, even if you bribe me with this, my opinion won’t change.”

“I made your electronic brain when I was young. The considerations weren’t comprehensive enough, and the technology at that time wasn’t as advanced as it is now,” Ruan Xian said softly. “Your physical body is regularly upgraded, but your electronic brain can only update software patches…”

Tang Yibu blinked. “I’m already very happy.”

“But I want the best for you.”

Ruan Xian reached out and caressed Tang Yibu’s hair.

If Tang Yibu’s electronic brain were to be completely replaced, he would have to undergo a series of major surgeries. Even with his own recovery ability, such surgery still carries certain risks.

If there was a problem with Tang Yibu’s program data when replacing the electronic brain, it can’t be repaired with just strong recovery ability.

Even if Ruan Xian was confident in his plan, he didn’t want to take any risks when it came to Tang Yibu.

Tang Yibu heard the hidden meaning, and his eyes became brighter. “What do you mean?”

“I programmed the nanobots in the candy. They carry new materials and can slowly upgrade your electronic brain in sections. This way, no major surgery is required, and your data will remain safe,” Ruan Xian said with a smile.

Tang Yibu’s throat bobbed. He thought his life was perfect enough, but now he was experiencing happiness that was overwhelming him.

“Why did you keep it a secret from me?” He hugged Ruan Xian tightly and let out a satisfied sigh.

“Happy birthday,” Ruan Xian said. “If I told you too early, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

“My birthday is still five months away.”

“I know. This ‘electronic brain renewal agent’ needs to be taken for exactly five months, which is now just the right time.”

Ruan Xian stretched out his arms and hugged Tang Yibu’s back, gently rubbing it.

Tang Yibu’s electronic brain was roughly removed and taken away. His original body was urgently created and manufactured by other machines.

Tang Yibu was his, and Ruan Xian couldn’t tolerate any harm coming to him. He wanted to use newer and better things to wipe away the imperfections and regrets of the past.

Ruan Xian: “Five months later, I’ll personally complete both your mind and body… That will be your ‘real’ birthday.”

Tang Yibu’s spirits lifted and he said happily, “Perfect. Now I belong to you completely!”

“Yes.”

“This is such a great gift. It’s going to be difficult to return the favor.” Tang Yibu buried his nose in Ruan Xian’s neck. “It’s not like I can somehow let you be reborn.”

There was no need for such a thing. Before Ruan Xian could reply, he heard the android continue in a low voice.

“Oh, and not only can I be your lover, but I can also love you like your closest family—that would be giving you a new home. This is a very interesting topic!”

“Look forward to it, Mr. Ruan.”


The author has something to say:

The iron bead will appear again next time. I’m sorry (……


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

A Contract Between Enemies Ch17

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 17: The Informant

Myss was in an excellent mood.

He could now be sure the strange plague in Rosha was Mina’s doing. Mina—whatever her true form was—had mixed crimson magic into certain foods.

Once people ate the tainted food, that wisp of magic began corroding the victim’s mind. In other words, it slowly stripped out the person’s Magibase and devoured it.

In the end, the so-called “meat-cocoon corpse” was nothing more than a candy wrapper after the bonbon was gone, a shell with the kernel missing.

And after the patient died, part of the proliferated magic would contaminate nearby food and repeat the cycle of infection.

Looks like I don’t need to worry about “Mina’s” long-term effects, Myss thought cheerfully.

He had no Magibase, so no matter how much contaminated food he ate, the crimson magic wouldn’t be able to harm him. He only needed to wait for it to dissipate on its own.

As for what Mina actually was, how the memory distortions worked, and how to clean up the mess in front of him… all those fussy little headaches could be left to the great hero.

Right this moment, Salaar was looking down at him from the rooftop.

“You’ve made trouble again,” Salaar sighed.

“And you enabled me,” Myss said.

Salaar smiled, his gaze still locked on Myss. The next second, ignoring the bird-beaked demon just a few paces away, he sprang straight toward Myss.

Salaar’s leap seemed to punch through the sunlight, scattering ten thousand glittering shards of gold.

Those flecks of magic became a rain of gold; wherever the light motes fell, people bowed their heads and sank into sleep.

Except for two—

The bird-beaked demon snapped his cloak, and a dozen crows beat their wings to shield him from the flying motes. Hailey was spared by Salaar; she sat there dumbfounded, watching Salaar lightly land on the ground.

Myss caught a speck of gold on his fingertip and touched it to his tongue.

“Tastes like illusion magic,” he smacked his lips.

“I scrambled their memories. When they wake, they won’t remember you. They’ll just think Barlow disappeared,” Salaar said. “Good thing there weren’t many witnesses.”

“What about the little girl here?” Myss pointed at Hailey.

Salaar shrugged. “Miss Hailey knew you were coming and personally led you here. To make her forget you entirely would take stronger magic… which would damage her mind.”

He explained while keeping a keen eye on the bird-beaked demon.

The bird-beaked demon didn’t attack them; he simply stood there. A huge crow perched on his shoulder, its gray-white nictitating membrane kept blinking repeatedly.

After a brief stillness, the flock of crows plunged to the ground.

Half-full casks were knocked over with a crash, wine gushed across the floor and seeped into the cracks between stones. Cups and plates clattered down, and the food upon them was snatched away by the crows, leaving only filthy scraps.

Myss narrowed his eyes at that pitch-black silhouette.

With that ruckus, the Mina-tainted wine was all spilled. Then the crows spiraled upward, casting a dozen drifting shadows.

As the shadows swept by, the bird-beaked demon vanished into thin air once more.

Hamer had said the rumor claimed the bird-beaked demon appeared twice before a patient.

The first appearance meant the person had fallen ill. The second meant they would sicken and die.

Was it Barlow’s death that summoned him here?

But from Myss’s spur-of-the-moment infection of Barlow to Barlow’s attack and death, the entire process had taken only a few minutes. Salaar had tailed him the whole way, so being on the scene wasn’t strange… the question was how the bird-beaked demon managed to show up in sync.

Myss was still thinking when his view suddenly jolted; someone had grabbed him around the waist.

Salaar tucked him tight under one arm as if the Archdemon was a sack of potatoes. With his left hand he kept casting, gracefully suspending Hailey in midair—the girl was utterly stunned, staring blankly at the two of them.

“Let’s leave here first,” Salaar said flatly.

A dozen minutes later.

Instead of returning to the Hammer Tavern, the three of them found a little restaurant with hardly any patrons—a place so tiny it was almost cramped, bare-bones in its decor, with a faint smell of cow dung in the air.

The menu offered only boiled turnips, baked potatoes, and cornbread with crumbled bacon.

Salaar ordered three steaming baked potatoes, scored crosses in them with a dinner knife, then, as if by magic, produced three pats of butter and tucked them into the potatoes.

“Eat.” He slid one serving to Hailey. “Something hot will help settle you.”

Hailey gripped her fork mechanically and jabbed at the potato, nearly sending it flying.

“Barlow is dead.” After a long while, she managed to stammer out the words.

Myss forked a potato cheerfully. “You said you wished he were dead.”

“I, I…” Hailey looked both confused and heartsick. “He deserved it, but…”

“You told Myss about Barlow, and then he killed Barlow. You feel like you have blood on your hands, don’t you?”

Salaar’s voice was gentle and even. “Miss Hailey, you aren’t pitying Barlow; you just aren’t used to the weight of a life yet. Believe me, this isn’t your problem at all…”

He glanced at Myss as naturally as breathing. “…It’s entirely Myss’s fault.”

Myss: “?”

“Mr. Myss isn’t a saint. If he makes up his mind to kill, he will act. From what I know of him, even if he hadn’t met you, he would have picked some ‘bad guy’ to kill anyway.”

Salaar’s tone was rock-solid, as if he had eavesdropped on Myss’s very thoughts.

“Child, you actually did a good thing—you picked the one who most deserved to die, didn’t you?”

Myss: “Hello? I’m right here listening.”

Though to be fair, Salaar wasn’t wrong.

Hailey’s confusion turned into bewilderment. She looked from Salaar to Myss. “But Mr. Myss…”

“In fact, we’re secret investigators from the capital, assigned to handle the Lower City plague.”

Salaar lowered his voice and gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Four investigators died of the illness in just two months. Clearly something is off, so we’ve kept our identities hidden.”

Then he tapped his own temple, his tone a shade suggestive. “As for Myss, he’s a professional executioner. It’s just that up here… Well… He’s been overly influenced by the bards, so his notion of ‘evil’ is a bit extreme.”

At the words “secret investigators”, color finally returned to Hailey’s face.

So they were experts sent from above; no wonder they had dared to use Barlow to study the illness. She peeked at Myss out of the corner of her eye. “Th-then, if I hadn’t mentioned Barlow…”

“Myss might have randomly killed some unlucky thief.” Salaar gave her a smile.

“May I tell my uncle about you two?” Hailey asked, still a little rattled.

“Of course. As your guardian, Mr. Huey has a right to know.” Salaar’s smile remained unchanged.

At last, Hailey let out a long breath, as if she could breathe again.

……

Night, second floor of the Hammer Tavern.

“What if Huey tries to verify our identities?” Myss challenged.

He normally couldn’t be bothered with this kind of nonsense, but the Magibase Summoning Ritual was about to begin. If anything went wrong at this critical moment, he would have to swallow Salaar alive.

“He won’t.”

Salaar was still fiddling with his charcoal pencil. “From his point of view, we only just arrived. We can’t possibly be the ones spreading the plague.”

“Officially we are secret investigators. If Huey asked the soldiers to confirm it, he would be deliberately exposing us. He’s not that foolish.”

Myss hugged a pillow and leaned against the headboard. “All that trouble spinning a lie just to fool a little girl…”

Salaar smiled. “Who said it was for her?”

“‘Mr. Myss, the righteous executioner,’ from now on you can only kill the wicked. Otherwise, Huey and Hailey will notice something is off, and the city lord’s soldiers will come knocking at once.”

“And by the way, don’t think about killing those two to silence them. Huey has quite a network, which may include some powerful figures.”

Myss: “……”

Damn it! This kid actually plotted against him!

He didn’t care about human life and death, but he truly didn’t want a fuss. His power was far from restored; if he attracted the wrong sort of attention, trouble would snowball.

“You cunning guy.”

Myss buried his face in the pillow. Three centuries away from the world, and the great hero was still infuriatingly capable.

“Live long enough and you pick up some experience,” Salaar crooned like a bard. “Ah, sorry, I forgot you are much older than I am.”

Rip.

Myss shredded the pillowcase, and a few light tufts of feather drifted out.

Salaar’s gaze swept over the feathers, and his smile faded a touch.

“Alright, business. I saw you ‘infect’ that Barlow with my own eyes. What exactly did you do?”

There it was again. This guy always changed the subject right before Myss was about to explode.

Myss scooted over and turned his back to Salaar. “I thought you weren’t interested in the plague. What was it you said? Border towns are easy to seal off, and the sacrifices are still… manageable.”

Salaar’s face remained expressionless. “Fine, I won’t ask.”

He bent his head; the pen tip hissed across the page. Night deepened, and the room slowly filled with shadow.

Ten minutes passed. Myss rolled over. “You really aren’t going to ask?”

The Demon Lord considered his new discovery quite brilliant. But if Salaar wouldn’t ask, he could hardly sidle over and interview himself.

“I’m not the kind of man who pesters others,” Salaar said evenly.

Myss grunted for a while. “What if it has to do with ‘Patience’?”

Salaar’s tone turned theatrical. “Wow, sounds like a big discovery!”

Then he fell silent again.

Feeling aggrieved, Myss climbed off the bed and planted himself in front of Salaar. He cast his not-so-large shadow over the damned guy, every pore of his body broadcasting, “Ask me!”

“Pfft. On second thought, it really might have something to do with ‘Patience.’”

Salaar nearly burst out laughing.

“Those lines in the letters, like ‘Mom sends her regards,’ could be Mina’s doing. Your clues are extremely important, so please share them with me.”

That was more like it. Myss put on a stern face and began explaining the plague’s transmission mechanism.

He even stated with authority that the two of them had been infected on the same day—Salaar by eating tainted croutons, and Myss by eating food at Covington’s death scene.

“In short, Mina cuts the Magibase out of the infected, which causes the magic to mutate. Since we don’t have Magibases, we’re mostly fine,” Myss concluded solemnly.

Salaar lowered his eyes, a faint crease forming between his brows.

“Contaminated food causes infection. When a patient dies, the abnormal magic inside them leaks out and contaminates nearby food. But so far, those around the deceased are unharmed…”

“The bird-beaked demon appears when the patient is infected and when the patient dies, which just happen to be the points where ‘contaminated food’ shows up…”

“When Barlow died, the bird-beaked demon destroyed the food and drink nearby…”

“Interesting. That ‘demon’ seems to be preventing transmission.”

Myss raised an eyebrow. “You don’t look pleased.”

“If that thing is tracking the plague out of goodwill… think about it. First Covington, then Barlow. To him, you’re the most dangerous person in the entire city.”

Salaar gave Myss a long, gloomy look and let out a heavy sigh.

“He doesn’t know our ‘secret investigator’ cover story. He might blow this wide open.”

At the same time, in Rosha’s Council Hall.

“My lord, someone outside claims to have information about the plague.”

“Tell him to come back tomorrow. Look at the time. It’s probably some vagrant angling for the bounty…”

“No, my lord. He calls himself a priest of the ‘Order of Shadows’.”


The author has something to say:

The first named sect has appeared!


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Escape From the Asylum Ch155

Author: 木尺素 / Mu Chisu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 155

“Eh? This kind of elevator door… an old-fashioned model? I’ve never seen one. Let me have a look.”

Seeing Hidden Blade block the shaft entrance, Xu Feiyu immediately stepped up to him.

Off to the side, He Xiaowei’s forehead was already beaded with sweat.

He had no idea what was happening with Zhou Qian’s group below. The shaft was so deep—what if they couldn’t hear anything up here? And if they could hear but had run into ghosts and were pinned down, unable to haul up the ropes, what then?

Only by sheer will did He Xiaowei manage to keep calm. He maintained an unruffled expression as Xu Feiyu approached the opening.

The next instant he saw his Master, Hidden Blade, sidestep out of the way and let Xu Feiyu reach the gate.

At that moment He Xiaowei finally relaxed: only the rope Hidden Blade had just tied remained visible. The other lines were gone. He exhaled silently.

“Master, I never realized you’re such a daredevil—each stunt riskier than the last…”

He Xiaowei swallowed and whispered through the private-chat tool.

At a distance Hidden Blade shot him a glance. “Mainly, you have to trust your teammates.”

Right—who was down below? Zhou Qian and Bai Zhou.

He Xiaowei believed he could always trust Zhou Qian.

The very next second Xu Feiyu gave a startled cry and dodged aside as something floated up the shaft: scraps of spirit-money and powdery flakes that looked like crushed bone.

“What the hell…” Xu Feiyu frowned.

Hidden Blade gave her a cold look. “I think we’d better go down and check.”

“I’ll send two men with you,” she said, motioning to two subordinates. Then to the remaining one. “You—search the office floors. And—”

She fixed Hidden Blade with a stare. “No tricks. We have ways to deal with you.”

Hidden Blade feigned puzzlement. “We’re on the same team now. We can’t attack each other. Why the threat?”

Then, as though understanding, he added, “Ah, I get it.”

Only then did Xu Feiyu realize she’d said too much: her men were present, and if she admitted having bands of other colors, she’d be telling them that once their numbers exceeded the instance limit, she might kill them.

Seeing her face, Hidden Blade said, “Since I’m in your camp I’ll help you—together with my disciple, who’s also my Shepherd. We’ll give you what you want, you guarantee we survive to the end.”

In veiled words he meant: if violet’s numbers grew too large, she must not kill him and He Xiaowei.

Xu Feiyu, pleased he hadn’t spoken openly, smiled. “You’re a god-level player; that’s your strongest bargaining chip. I value talent. After the run, you’re welcome in our legion.”

[Wristband update — Orange 9 | Yellow 23 | Green 25 | Blue 19 | Indigo 14 | Violet 25]

Eighteen floors beneath the office building.

Glancing at the notice, Zhou Qian instantly guessed what had happened—yellow was down by one, so He Xiaowei had switched to purple, and Hidden Blade had put on a band as well.

Looking away from the panel he told Bai Zhou, “Seems we should head for the underground river. Good news, though—Little Dragon’s found a lot of weapons. I’ve told it to sneak back.”

Bai Zhou had already relayed everything from the roof via private chat. He nodded and led the way. Qi Liuxing, sword in hand, took the rear.

The transport company’s building sat high.

Following the subterranean river, Zhou Qian soon entered a ravine that looked much like Purple Mist Mountain.

Keeping alert, he asked Bai Zhou, “You heard Hidden Blade the moment he noticed something?”

“Mm. His first words to He Xiaowei weren’t on private channel,” Bai Zhou replied.

Through the comm Zhou Qian mused, “And you prepared right away?”

Bai Zhou opened his mouth and shut it again. “So…?”

“So you two coordinate pretty smoothly.”

Zhou Qian dimmed his torch, shining through his sleeve to minimize exposure. While being able to illuminate the path clearly, he also tried to reduce the possibility of exposure.

He stared at bai Zhou and added, “How many runs have you two cleared together?”

Bai Zhou sensed a trap. “……”

Zhou Qian sighed theatrically. “You’re dodging me now, Zhou Ge.”

Bai Shou: “I just think your question is loaded.”

Zhou Qian laughed. “What trap? Don’t worry, I won’t get jealous.”

Bai Zhou paused. “Not many—twenty-odd. Mostly farming repeats.”

“Remembered that clearly?” Zhou Qian narrowed his eyes.

Bai Zhou smiled gently. “See? Whatever I say…”

If he refused, he looked evasive; if the number was small he’d be told he remembered too well, if large it was worse. It was like that old “who would you save” dilemma—only now Zhou Qian had found a fresh angle.

“Zhou Ge, you misunderstand.” Zhou Qian’s eyes sparkled. “He’s in my legion now—we’re teammates. I need chemistry with him too. Next time I’m running twenty instances with him.”

Bai Zhou frowned and clasped his hand. “Pick any instance. I’ll go with you.”

“I want to go with Hidden Blade. We’re less in sync.”

“If Hidden Blade goes, He Xiaowei trials with him. They’ll team together.”

Zhou Qian squeezed Bai Zhou’s hand. “Why not just admit you’re jealous?”

No sooner were the words out than Bai Zhou swept his right hand and made a stroke. The Tang sword Breaking Dawn had appeared in his hand.

“Whoa, Zhou Ge, a little jealousy doesn’t call for blades.”

But Zhou Qian knew the motion meant danger ahead. Joking aside, he pulled the Rib of God from his bag. Behind them Qi Liuxing’s sword rang as he strode up, eyes locked ahead.

Someone walked toward them: a tall, slim man in a black trench coat with outstanding features. His hair was combed neatly and if you looked closely, you could see wax on it.

If he hadn’t been holding a gun in his hand and appeared in this world, he would’ve looked like he was about to step onto an idol stage, ready for his debut.

What intrigued Zhou Qian was that the system showed all his stats as “??”—he was another god-level player.

Blue Harbor’s many trial instances existed for god-level players to bond with Shepherd; there was little here worth solo grinding. A god-level came only to find a Shepherd—so where was his?

In a flash Zhou Qian saw the point.

He asked, “You’re Xu Yang? And the woman on the roof is your Shepherd? Nice feint.”

“You’re quick,” Xu Yang replied, looking at Zhou Qian. “I’ve heard of you—the Peach Blossom target. Impressive. And you—”

His eyes moved to Bai Zhou. “I’ve searched for you a long time. Never thought to meet here.”

Zhou Qian threw Bai Zhou a sidelong glance as Xu Yang went on. “Your reputation precedes you, though I’ve never seen you. For such a hidden instance… it must be quite the treasure. Chose Zhou Qian as your Shepherd, did you?”

Ignoring the gun, Zhou Qian muttered privately, “Zhou Ge, you sure collect fanboys.”

Bai Zhou: “I don’t know him.”

“I’ll poach them all to my side,” Zhou Qian said.

Bai Zhou: “……”

Xu Yang raised the gun slightly and produced three purple bands with his left hand.

“A swordsman who has accumulated a lot of experience—your power’s about to peak.

“A rising newcomer worth enough trouble for Peach Blossom to hunt.

“And the most mysterious, perhaps strongest god-level player alive—no matter how you hide, I can trace your aura…”

His gaze swept Qi Liuxing, Zhou Qian, Bai Zhou. “But so what? None of you can use skills here. Only weapons matter, and you’ve found none.

“To play in this kind of instance requires luck first—you spawned where there are no weapons. Info second—you run solo, who shares intel with you? Oh right, your legion… Level 1? Just formed. No network to feed you data.”

Zhou Qian actually knew plenty about Xu Yang; he’d studied every top‑ten legion in detail. Xu Yang had brought his Feidu Legion to a high rank in record time—indeed impressive.

As a god‑level player, Xu Yang had sensed Hidden Blade and Bai Zhou, but he’d let only Xu Feiyu appear first; while everyone thought she was the lone enemy, he waited for Bai Zhou and Zhou Qian to show themselves, creating a rear‑flank trap. In a way, his tactics echoed Zhou Qian’s own plans.

Xu Feiyu’s name didn’t show in legion lists, so when she appeared Zhou Qian hadn’t been on full alert. She was Xu Yang’s Shepherd, a hidden piece that surfaced only when needed to cover him.

Xu Yang continued, “The kid swordsman, no band—take one and put it on; you have three minutes. As for you two—

“I know you don’t truly mean to join violet. This area’s crawling with yellows. You lack weapons but surely hold many yellow bands. Hand them over. We’ll all wear purple and hunt clues. I don’t want you swapping colors and betraying me later.

“So—empty your stash, cycle through every band till they’re gone, then willingly join my side. Otherwise—”

He lifted the gun; the threat was clear.

“Xiao Qi, put on purple first,” Zhou Qian said.

“Qian—” Qi Liuxing frowned, but trusting him completely, he stepped forward and donned the band.

Zhou Qian rolled up his left sleeve and looked at Xu Yang.

As expected, Xu Yang’s eyes widened at the white band, though he masked it quickly.

Zhou Qian smiled. “You don’t know what white does either, do you? No need to destroy it—might be useful later.”

After a pause Xu Yang chuckled and turned to Bai Zhou. “Yours is yellow, right? Good—burn through all your yellow bands in two minutes, or I’ll start shooting. Reminder—

“The system banned skills and lethal gadgets, which means the provided weapons are the only ones that kill. This gun’s tracking is 99 percent accurate. Even if you blink or use props, the bullet will find you.

“So—don’t imagine you can dodge.”

Tightening his finger on the trigger, his murderous intent was obvious.

He looked back at Zhou Qian. “White, eh? I didn’t have that intel—thanks. You’re smart. When your friends are in my sights you’ll cooperate. Right, Zhou Qian?”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Help Mini Extras Collection

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Help: Mini Extras Collection

Note: These are mini extras that the author has written posted separately on JJ. She intermittently updates them, usually on Valentine’s Day and other holidays for her CPs. The translation will be updated when the author updates her blog. You can get updates when translations are updated in my Discord server. Below is a ton of dog food.


2025/29/8

Everyone’s Summer Cool-Down Routines

Another Qixi has come around, and our married couples are celebrating again.

Here are their little everyday tricks for beating the heat—

With summer approaching, Fang Xiu bought a bathtub and deliberately set it up in the bedroom.

Officer Yuan found it a bit odd. Fang Xiu’s bedroom had no drains and no faucet. A lone tub by the window would looked nice, sure, but what was it for?

Thinking of his son-in-law’s “identity”, he decided not to dig. Maybe it was some folk custom from another dynasty; best to view the world with a tolerant eye.

Soon enough, summer came.

With nothing pressing today, Fang Xiu lay on the bed playing mobile games. Bai Shuangying’s head rested on his waist as he watched a science video with deep concentration.

Night fell completely; the wind chimes at the window rang under the night breeze. Bai Shuangying released just the right amount of yin energy, and the mood was wonderfully relaxed.

“It’s late. Should we go to bed?” Fang Xiu yawned wide and stretched.

Bai Shuangying hummed, rubbing his warm hair with a palm. He went to the bathtub first—and then vanished entirely. Skillfully reverting to his true form, he stretched out within the smooth tub and flowed as he pleased.

Fang Xiu undressed, drowsily climbed into the strange fluid mass, and let himself be drowned by Bai Shuangying.

That liquid wrapped him in fine layers, skimming softly over his skin. There was no safer place in the world. In that all-encompassing, cool embrace, Fang Xiu soon fell asleep.

The large bedroom looked empty, save for the tubful of mirror-smooth, uncanny fluid. The two “people” slept entwined until sunrise.

Naturally, sometimes Fang Xiu didn’t fall asleep right away.

Summer nights were warm, and excessive “exercise” made him feel sweaty and uncomfortable. So on many a summer night, he was happy to be intimate exactly like this—and for that, he bought the best-quality bathtub.

“No matter how much it rocks, it doesn’t make a sound,” he winked at Bai Shuangying. “But, uh, let’s not mention this to Dad.”


2025/5/20

Everyone’s Birthday Cakes

Congrats to the couple from “Help” on moving into the Married Zone ☆(/ω\)

This year’s 520 (May 20) mini-extra: couples celebrate their birthdays! It’s a perfect chance to compile everyone’s birthdays~

Fang Xiu: December 24th

Source: A normal birthday. (Christmas Eve)

Cake: [Traditional Brown-Sugar Flatbread]

The fruits of Bai Shuangying’s culinary efforts. It looks like a griddle cake with warm brown-sugar syrup inside and a faint herbal aroma… Lord Bai originally meant to make a cake, but he added a great deal of “I do as I please” to the recipe.

The failed “cake” left Bai Shuangying a little deflated; he only wanted to give Fang Xiu something healthier and more nourishing. But seeing Fang Xiu happily finish the sugar cake cheered him right up.

※ Fang Xiu truly finds this curious sugar cake delicious. How curious that whether it’s rich broth or sugar cakes made by his frosty ghost, the food he gets is warm and soft.

Bai Shuangying: August 10th

Source: The day he met Fang Xiu, when he first took human form. (Qixi, 2024)

Cake: [Marshmallow of Living Souls]

A little experiment after Fang Xiu mastered his power: he spins the living souls of sinners with sugar into marshmallows, then fixes them into the shape of a cake. Bai Shuangying loves the texture. It tastes delicate and sweet.

After savoring it repeatedly, Bai Shuangying discovered a small secret. Neither the living souls of sinners nor mortal sugar compares to Fang Xiu’s heartfelt vital essence—when Fang Xiu makes his “cake” with his whole heart, a little essence seeps in along with the love.

※ He doesn’t understand why, when he adds love to a cake for Fang Xiu, it turns into brown-sugar flatbread. He’s not convinced. For Fang Xiu’s next birthday, Bai Shuangying plans to add even more focus and love.


<<< || Table of Contents ||

Help Ch195

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 195: Pawprints of a Puppy

Patter patter patter, rustle.

A small black nose pressed against the crack of the door, sniffing hard. All the sacrifices on this floor were dead; there was no warm scent of living souls in the room.

The little black dog withdrew its nose and licked the tip with its tongue.

Lately, it really enjoyed wandering around the Disaster Relief Tower, sniffing here and there.

Fang Xiu had been studying in the mortal world recently, dragging Bai Shuangying along to live with him. Whenever they weren’t summoning it on purpose, the little black dog made full use of its ghost immortal status to run freely between the living and spirit realms, having a grand time.

Still, as much fun as roaming alone could be, it preferred walking with Fang Xiu. Fang Xiu would buy tasty dog biscuits and feed them to it from his warm palm.

That warmth always reminded the little dog of its previous owner.

Bai Shuangying didn’t enjoy walks as much, and his palms were never warm. But he was good in his own way—he could pet its head for hours without getting tired.

Normal humans didn’t have that kind of patience. All this time, Bai Shuangying’s head-pats had been the most comfortable.

It missed them a bit.

Maybe it was time to visit the mortal world again, it thought seriously.

“…Are we sure this is okay?”

Hearing the whispering voices of Underworld workers, the little dog’s floppy ears twitched. It picked up speed, transforming into a breeze.

Two ghost attendants were coming over with a bunch of cleaning tools, ready to clean the now-empty floor of the Tower.

They looked like paper dolls—one had a single eye, the other had three—and were huddled together, whispering non-stop.

“Even if Lord Fang has recovered his memories, he’s still not even thirty. Just over twenty years old. He’s far too young,” said the one-eyed attendant, Dian Yi, with a sigh. “He’s already tangled up with the God of Xushan. That kind of relationship can’t last.”

Dian San nervously looked around and lowered his voice. “What are you saying? Lord Fang’s doing just fine, isn’t he?”

“In terms of work, it’s definitely easier than before,” Dian Yi admitted readily.

Back when the sacrifices participated in rituals, the attendants had to manage the bodies left behind in the mortal world. If a soul stayed in the tower for a year or more, it was like being sent on a long, high-intensity business trip.

Now that Fang Xiu had reformed the system, most of the souls being sent down were non-recoverable. Their bodies didn’t need care and just a preservation spell to keep it fresh.

“But he’s handing over all the Tower’s refined yin energy to the God of Xushan,” Dian Yi whispered. “Everyone in the Underworld knows how precious that kind of pure yin energy is. And as the E resolutions continue, even a few leaks would help us build good relationships with new ghost immortals. Yet he’s giving it all away.”

“They’re bound together by karma, a bond between a god and an E,” Dian San said hesitantly.

“Sure, but this isn’t a matter of life or death. Even when Lord Fang destroyed multiple Immortal E’s, no one was rushing to sacrifice themselves.” Dian Yi snorted coldly.

“I’ve seen plenty of mortals in love. When they’re infatuated, it’s all grand gestures and passionate vows. But once the novelty fades, they become nitpicking and stingy…”

“Humans crave novelty and thrill. The God of Xushan might be powerful, but his personality is mild. Once Lord Fang matures and takes a hard look back at things… well.”

The little dog half-understood but knew these weren’t kind words. Its gums itched; it wanted to gnaw something badly.

“You’re worried Lord Fang might change his mind and they’ll have a falling out?” Dian San asked timidly.

“What else? If those two split, this Tower might not survive.” Dian Yi sighed again. “Who knows how many more peaceful years we’ll have here… Ow!”

Pain shot through its leg—it had been bitten hard by something. Dian Yi looked around suspiciously, but the little dog was already long gone.

It sprinted up to the top of the Tower and headed straight for A’Shou’s office, ready to file a complaint.

Underworld rules said it shouldn’t bite the enforcers too hard, Fang Xiu had told it that. But sometimes a little nip just wasn’t enough. It simply couldn’t stand hearing people talk badly about Fang Xiu and Bai Shuangying.

“How have those two been doing lately?”

Before the dog could complain, it heard A’Shou asking Dian’er.

“No issues in the Tower, My Lady. They seem to be doing well,” Dian’er replied respectfully.

A’Shou nodded, then turned to the little dog. “And you? Have you noticed anything unusual?”

The dog froze.

Why was even A’Shou asking about Fang Xiu and Bai Shuangying?

Seeing it stand there dumbly, A’Shou quickly added, “They’re fine. This is just a routine check. For the stability of the Disaster Relief Tower, the Underworld files an annual report.”

The little dog tilted its head.

“We can’t leave the Tower. Please go check the mortal world’s situation for us,”

A’Shou said, taking a fragrant pill from a drawer and offering it. “You don’t have to understand. Just report what you see.”

The dog gulped down the pill in two bites, barked twice loudly, and turned into wind once more.

After it disappeared, Dian’er turned to A’Shou. “Those two are always stuck together. Why worry?”

A’Shou replied, “Do you want the official explanation, or my personal doubts?”

“Uh…”

“As the saying goes, ‘sharing both sorrows and joys together,’ but in reality, it’s not so easy to share such things. The human world has many temptations. We can’t afford to get careless… That’s the reasoning.”

A’Shou sat back down and resumed going through paperwork.

“As for my doubt, I just don’t understand one thing. If they really planned to settle down, why haven’t they given the little dog a name?”

……

If it was supposed to report honestly, it should keep walking.

The little dog followed a familiar scent and wandered over to Cheng Songyun’s home.

Cheng Songyun had bought a small place in her daughter’s neighborhood. When she wanted to see her child, she would stay there a few days.

She was financially comfortable now and enjoying life. She would go on short trips when she had nothing else to do.

But the weather was a bit cold lately, so she stayed home and hung some cured meat.

The little dog squeezed through the door just as Cheng Songyun was calling Fang Xiu.

“Xiao Fang, send me your address. I’ll mail you some cured meat. I bought good cuts. It tastes amazing in stir-fry or soup. Let me tell you, Xiao Guan and his dormmates fought over it like crazy,” she said enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling. “I don’t know if Xiao Bai can eat this kind of thing, but I’ll send it anyway…”

Fang Xiu’s voice came faintly from the receiver. He sounded cheerful and relaxed.

“Oh no, don’t be polite. I’ll send it to your dad’s address then. By the way, how’ve you two been lately? Come visit if you’ve got time… Huh? What?”

Cheng Songyun’s smile froze. She looked like she’d just heard something shocking. She paused for a while before speaking again.

“Oh. Oh, I understand. You handle your things first. Come visit later!”

She hung up, still looking stunned.

——???

The little dog’s fur bristled. It didn’t even care about the cured meat anymore.

Could something really have happened to Fang Xiu?

It didn’t dare linger. It ran off to the next stop—

Guan He had successfully been admitted to Gui Province’s police academy and was living on campus. It was the weekend, and he was out shopping with his dormmates.

He no longer looked like the hunched, gloomy figure from the ritual. His crewcut was neat, his posture straight, and his build had filled out.

Whether he’d grown taller or just stood straighter, the little dog couldn’t tell—from its perspective, Guan He had always been a towering giant.

It sniffed for a while, confirmed the scent of the little boy spirit, and knew it was him.

Guan He had fallen a few steps behind his friends and was speaking seriously on the phone.

“Fang Ge? I just got a message from Auntie Cheng. I mean… I know you’re busy, and if you need help on my end, say the word.”

“I was surprised, yeah. But still, you two have been together a long time. Something like this happening isn’t too strange.”

Like Cheng Songyun, he sounded confused, unaware of the full picture.

“Anyway, I’m here if you need anything. Not many people know your situation… Okay, got it. I’ll be ready this weekend.”

“Was that your folks? What’s with that look?”

His friends swarmed over after the call ended.

“It’s nothing,” Guan He forced a smile. “Come on, let’s go eat.”

The little dog was officially panicking.

It could no longer wander at its own pace. With a rush of wind, it stormed into Fang Xiu and Bai Shuangying’s house.

…Only Yuan Ye and Bai Shuangying were home.

Yuan Ye was cooking downstairs.

Seeing the panting little dog dash in, he calmly fished out a piece of meat from the pot, rinsed it under the tap. “Good boy. Want some meat?”

The little dog sat with its tail drooping, howled twice, its mind nowhere near the food.

“Fang Xiu went to class. He’ll be back soon,”

Yuan Ye replied with a knowing smile, as if he understood. “Xiao Bai’s upstairs. Want to go see him?”

“Woo woo woof—”

The dog rolled its eyes upward, carefully observing Yuan Ye’s expression.

Yuan Ye didn’t seem upset. In fact, he looked perfectly content. Could it be that Fang Xiu and Bai Shuangying had a fight and kept it secret from their family?

That made sense. If Fang Xiu wanted to hide something, no one would notice a thing.

The dog sat at the doorway, determined to wait for Fang Xiu to return and go see Bai Shuangying together.

Less than thirty minutes later, three knocks sounded, and Fang Xiu entered, carrying two bags with an unreadable.

The little dog rushed over and latched onto his leg, letting out an anxious whine.

“What are you doing here?” Fang Xiu casually patted its warm head.

“Woof!” the little dog cried desperately.

“Dad, I’m leaving one bag here,” Fang Xiu placed a steaming bag of prepared food on the table. “I’m heading upstairs. Call me when it’s time to eat.”

“Go ahead,” Yuan Ye waved his spatula.

Here it was.

The little dog scrambled its legs furiously and followed Fang Xiu up the stairs.

At the door, Fang Xiu paused, smoothing his messy bangs and flattening his shirt before opening it—

At first glance, Bai Shuangying sat at the window, wrapped in golden sunlight.

Soft white-noise music played from the speaker, and books were scattered on the floor.

In the next second, Bai Shuangying flashed to the doorway, lowered his head slightly, and looked directly into Fang Xiu’s eyes. “You’re back.”

“Have you really thought this through? Not acting on impulse?” Fang Xiu asked with unusual seriousness.

“Yes.” Bai Shuangying’s expression was blank, but his voice was firm.

“We’re not the same,” Fang Xiu sighed. “Aside from external factors, I have personal principles. Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”

“Even if this means we separate for a while, I…”

“I’ve made up my mind,” Bai Shuangying interrupted without hesitation.

Bathed in harsh sunlight, the two stared at each other in silence. For two whole seconds, the world seemed utterly still, even the dust in the air seemed to freeze.

“…Alright.” At last, Fang Xiu lowered his gaze.

The little dog’s ears trembled slightly.

Were its best friends breaking up? What could it do?

It had waited so long for companions to walk with, for a place that felt like home.

If they really separated… what would happen to it?

Whimpering twice, the little black dog wished it could speak. Then it heard the second half of Fang Xiu’s sentence—

“If you want to study with me, not only do you have to get into the same school, but you have to pass within three years.”

Fang Xiu scratched his head with both hands. “I’ll probably switch to a master’s or doctoral track. If everything goes well, we can be together for a long time. Haa, I knew you’d insist.”

Little black dog: “?”

Something didn’t sound right.

“I don’t like being apart from you for too long.” Bai Shuangying casually picked up a book from the floor. “The time you’ve spent studying alone has been too long.”

Fang Xiu laughed helplessly. He took a small step forward and tugged gently at Bai Shuangying’s cheeks. “I only mentioned it to Cheng Jie, and she was completely shocked. Xiao Guan said he’d help. You can borrow his notes.”

“Hey, if you actually get in, I wonder how the living-world institutions are going to react.”

“Heaven follows its natural course; everything has its own principles.”

Though his face was being pulled, Bai Shuangying still maintained a proud expression. His pronunciation was a little warped, but his tone was unwavering. “As long as cause and effect are clear and the theories sound, there’s nothing I can’t learn.”

“If that’s the case, should I be worried about your language subjects?”

Bai Shuangying fell silent.

After a long pause, he murmured, “I’ll do my best.”

“In any case, I don’t like being apart from you for too long.”

Fang Xiu looked at him with eyes as gentle as spring wind.

Bai Shuangying opened his arms in response, inviting a hug. Fang Xiu embraced him without hesitation, burying his face in the cool, soft fabric of Bai Shuangying’s clothes.

“I used to think that you wouldn’t care about being apart for a few hours.”

Fang Xiu’s voice was muffled. “I thought I was the only one…”

Bai Shuangying stroked his hair and gave it a soft ruffle. “At first, I thought I wouldn’t care either.”

“But if I don’t want to be apart, then I don’t. That’s how I feel. That’s the truth.” He emphasized the word “truth”.

His tone remained calmly matter-of-fact, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Fang Xiu smiled, warm breath brushing against Bai Shuangying’s chest. “You’re right. No point in lying to myself.”

Then his breathing slowed. He hugged Bai Shuangying tightly for a long while before speaking again. “This is one of my bad habits.”

“Hm?”

“These days, I’ve been a little too happy. So happy it scares me.”

Fang Xiu spoke softly. “I know you won’t change. But humans… humans change all the time. What someone thinks at eight, twenty-eight, or forty-eight… It’s completely different.”

Bai Shuangying listened quietly, slowly brushing his fingertips along Fang Xiu’s back.

Fang Xiu fell silent again. Speaking this truth seemed to take all the strength he had. “My life has turned out much longer than I ever imagined. And honestly, I’m not that prepared for the future.”

“To tell the truth, I don’t know what kind of person I’ll become.”

“I see,” Bai Shuangying said gently.

Fang Xiu buried his face deeper, voice growing even softer. “So I’ve always hoped that nothing between us would ever change—if you don’t change, and our relationship doesn’t change, I can convince myself that everything is still the same. That nothing ever will change.”

“That way, I can feel a little safer.”

For some reason, the little black dog understood a bit of that.

It was like being handed something incredibly precious and not knowing how to care for it. Too scared to bite it, too scared to play with it, terrified of breaking it.

All it wanted was to find a place to bury it forever and keep it safe.

But sometimes, it wondered—did that really count as “having”?

Bai Shuangying didn’t comfort his human. He just thought carefully and finally concluded, “It seems you really don’t want to be apart from me.”

Then he let out a breath, speaking like someone who had been through it all. “Then let’s wait until we’re about to be separated and look for ways not to be. See? I’ve already found one.”

Just picturing the God of Xushan studying Guan He’s high school notes made Fang Xiu’s carefully cultivated melancholy vanish.

He gave a low chuckle. “Fair enough.”

“Even if you become a notorious villain, you’re still incredibly clever. You’d come up with a solution.”

Bai Shuangying said, “Whether you’re twenty-eight, sixty-eight, or one hundred twenty-eight, I’ll still say this to you. I’m not planning to leave—at least not for the next thousand years.”

“So you really don’t need to hold back. Just do whatever you want.”

His tone was still perfectly casual, as if this whole conversation was nothing more than choosing breakfast.

…He even pulled Fang Xiu a little closer.

Fang Xiu: “Really?”

Before Bai Shuangying could answer, Fang Xiu lifted his face and kissed his cheek.

The corners of his mouth curved in a signature smile. Only now, it was so sincere it held a trace of youthful awkwardness.

“Then I think you should have lunch first today,” Fang Xiu whispered.

Before the little black dog could run over for some head pats, it found itself teleported out of the room by one of Bai Shuangying’s spells.

In its final glimpse, it saw slender fingers lift a red T-shirt and a pale hand press against Fang Xiu’s lower back.

Little black dog: “???”

Well, never mind. It was clear its friends weren’t breaking up anytime soon.

It blew out a puff of air and waddled downstairs. It decided to get a bite of meat before submitting its report.

Inside the room—

Fang Xiu wrapped his arms around Bai Shuangying’s neck, his bare back pressed to the door.

As the rustle of fabric filled the air, he ran his fingers through his lover’s hair, whispering nonstop.

“I want to take you and Dad on a family trip next holiday.”

“I want to introduce you to my new friends.”

“I want to go with you to…”

“…I want to give that little black dog a name.”

Eventually, all his whispered desires were drowned in the act of fulfilling them.

……

Years later, Country A, a private medical facility.

A doctor adjusted his glasses and sighed. “Mr. Zhuang’s condition is not good. Recently, his seizures have become more frequent, and we’re starting to see irregular brain activity.”

“He’s old, and his body is failing. The fact that he’s survived this many years in a coma is already a miracle. Money can’t change his situation anymore.”

“But he’s still with us, isn’t he?”

A middle-aged man in an expensive custom suit spoke with unwavering certainty. “He’s survived so many critical episodes. That’s my God’s protection.”

“That’s why we must not fail him.”

A young woman beside him responded reverently. “After so many key members disappeared, you’ve finally kept the Guishan Sect going all these years.”

“The situation back in our country isn’t ideal. Only a few ordinary followers remain, waiting for your guidance.”

“I know.” The man let out a long sigh.

“Right, aren’t doctors from Country C supposed to visit today? I remember they’re new but highly skilled. Make sure confidentiality is airtight.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t be stingy. Do whatever it takes to keep the leader alive a little longer.”

The woman nodded firmly and murmured a few verses of “Return, return,” before striding into the patient’s room.

Zhuang Chongyue’s hospital room was spacious and elegant, with a view of the wide blue sky.

Once a robust man, he now looked like a dried corpse, sunk deep into a tangle of machines and tubes.

His skin was shriveled and yellowed, brittle like rough paper that might tear at the slightest touch.

The doctors standing at his bedside were surprisingly young.

One wore a surgical mask, gaze lowered, eyes obscured by shadow. The other stood in the light, leaning over the patient. He was strikingly handsome, his hair slightly messy, and a sliver of red visible beneath his white coat.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you live a very, very long time.”

The handsome doctor smiled. His smile was gentle and sincere that it was almost indescribable.

The woman was visibly moved and nodded in acknowledgment.

The young doctor’s smile deepened. Leaning down further, he added playfully, “You’ll never be rid of me.”

As if he heard the words, Zhuang Chongyue, deeply unconscious, twitched beneath his eyelids. A slight moisture appeared at the corner of his eye.

“What was that…” the woman murmured in surprise.

“It’s nothing. Just joking.”

The doctor straightened up and held out his right hand.

“Hello, I’m Fang Xiu.”

“This is my husband and colleague, Bai Shuangying.”


The author has something to say:

Officially the end. Thank you for all your support and patience throughout the story!

This one was more of a warm-up project. From here on, I’ll likely alternate between set fantasy and modern supernatural themes with new experiments in between. [peeks sneakily]

————————————

Replay: The next book A Contract Between Enemies is tentatively scheduled for release around July! It’s fantasy—check the author profile for updates~

Thank you to everyone supporting the official release! See you in a few months [heart]


Kinky Thoughts:

Oh, this last chapter is really good. At least the pet will get a name (though we won’t know what it is).

It seems like Nian Zhong has experimented again with this novel. The last “experimental” project she did was Access Denied… which was also one of my least favorite works by her. I seem to not like it when she writes out of the norm.

Anyway, please support the author by buying the raws. You can use Google Chrome with their auto translate and this guide on how to buy novels on jjwxc. Remember, only with your (financial) support can artists continue to produce more great works.

Until next time.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Help Ch194

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 194: Cabin in the Woods (Part Two)

Fang Xiu let out a soft “ah” and scratched his head awkwardly. “I didn’t sense anything at all.”

“No need to worry.” Bai Shuangying shook his head. “This kind of detection spell takes years of training. You haven’t even started learning.”

Fang Xiu looked sincere. “After I finish the exam, I’ll definitely study hard with you.”

“Very good. I will teach you properly,” Bai Shuangying said with satisfaction.

He reached out naturally and tousled Fang Xiu’s messy hair. Fang Xiu squinted in delight, his smile growing wider.

The two of them chatted at ease, leaving only Zhou Xingquan tense as ever. “You just said someone with bad intentions is here. Shouldn’t we be doing something?”

This forest had only recently been opened to the public for scientific research. To Zhou Xingquan, “someone with bad intentions” could only mean poachers, industrial spies, or illegal organizations violating regulations.

None of those were easy to handle. Poachers might even be armed. And they didn’t even have a signal here.

Fang Xiu reassured the worried Zhou Xingquan. “If the intruders can be identified by Shuangying, they must be using magic. Anyone trying to rush into Xushan at a time like this is almost certainly a member of the Guishan Sect.”

“The Guishan Sect?” Zhou Xingquan asked.

If he remembered correctly, that infamous cult had been nearly wiped out domestically, and its leader had fled overseas nearly twenty years ago. He hadn’t seen anything about them in the news in ages.

Zhou Xingquan suddenly realized he was caught in a strange loop. Every time he thought he had finally re-entered reality, something bizarre would pull him back out again.

The sense of being suspended between illusion and reality wouldn’t let go. Having been beaten up by one supernatural event after another, he somehow felt calm now.

“What are cultists doing in a place like this? Worship?”

Zhou Xingquan analyzed calmly. “I don’t remember too clearly, but I seem to recall they worshipped Xushan a lot.”

“You know quite a bit,” Fang Xiu blinked.

“When their activity was at its worst, our school specifically gave lectures about them. Since there’s no signal here, you two shouldn’t confront those people directly. Just report them once you’re out.”

Zhou Xingquan followed Bai Shuangying’s gaze outside. The night was pitch black. He couldn’t even make out the bushes two meters away.

He had no idea how Bai Shuangying could see anything. Was this guy actually an evil spirit? But if Bai Shuangying was an evil spirit, his aura was far too gentle.

No. He had to stop thinking about these unscientific things and stay focused.

“I’m not kidding. Anyone still running a cult in this day and age is mentally unstable.”

Seeing that Fang Xiu and Bai Shuangying weren’t reacting, Zhou Xingquan continued earnestly, “Those lunatics will do anything. Some commit suicide, others attack their families, and the really extreme ones go after strangers with knives.”

“Leave things like this to professionals. Please don’t get involved…”

Swish.

With a flick of his sleeve, Bai Shuangying somehow produced a snow-white peach branch with flowers swaying gently. Outside the window, a young boy in traditional clothing appeared out of thin air.

The child wore rough homespun clothes like a mountain villager, a crooked wooden mask on his face, and carried a basket of sweet potatoes and wild fruits on his back. He looked like he had just been plucked out of ancient times.

The boy quickly got his footing, didn’t look back, and hopped away on his own.

Zhou Xingquan was stunned.

Fang Xiu watched the boy vanish, his smile gaining a subtle, unreadable quality. He returned to the table and called out, “Come on, eat up. The soup will get cold.”

“J-Just now, that…” Zhou Xingquan stammered.

“That was just an illusion. A guide projection,” Fang Xiu said cheerfully, scooping soup and setting aside a chicken drumstick for Bai Shuangying.

“An illusion? A guide? But I—”

Zhou Xingquan thought about the red soda can that had led him here and suddenly didn’t know what to say.

In a remote, untouched forest like this, he couldn’t tell if a soda can was scarier or a masked child in ancient costume more disturbing.

Even setting aside the weird guiding objects, who exactly were they leading people to?

There were too many strange things. He couldn’t make sense of any of them.

With a sigh, Zhou Xingquan took a sip of the soup and forced himself to forget all that superstition.

He didn’t know what herbs had been added to the chicken broth, but the taste was incredible. It was fresh, fragrant, but slightly unfamiliar.

One spoonful felt like a warm spring sun soaking into his very bones.

The chicken was so tender it melted in his mouth. Zhou Xingquan ate the flatbread, drank the soup, and almost forgot everything he had just seen. Until—

Knock knock knock.

For the second time that day, someone knocked on the door.

Zhou Xingquan set down his bowl, his heart skipping a beat.

Across from him, Fang Xiu continued to eat his chicken slowly. There was a bit of broth at the corner of his mouth, which Bai Shuangying casually wiped away with his finger, a gesture so natural it was almost intimate.

Neither of them acknowledged the knock.

Knock knock knock. Knock knock knock.

“I’m lost in the forest. Please help me and let me stay the night. I’ll pay whatever you ask.”

The voice outside was warm and gentle, like that of a cultured middle-aged man. It was so kind that Zhou Xingquan almost dropped his guard for a second.

If this were the outskirts of a city, he probably would have opened the door.

But thinking of how remote and eerie this place was, Zhou Xingquan decided to follow Fang Xiu’s lead and pretend he didn’t hear anything.

Knock knock knock. Knock knock knock. Knock knock knock.

“You must be someone of the path, living in a place like this. I was guided here by my Hierarch. There must be fate between us,” the man insisted, confident.

“Please open the door.”

“Open the door.”

“Open.”

“What fate, my ass,” Zhou Xingquan couldn’t help but muttered under his breath.

The voice lacked any trace of desperation or pleading, only a bone-chilling confidence.

It was as if, if Fang Xiu didn’t open the door, the man would force his way in. The attitude made no sense at all.

Could this be the “hostile” cultist they mentioned?

But why would Fang Xiu and Bai Shuangying guide cultists here?

Knock knock knock. Knock knock knock. Knock knock knock.

…Bang!

The knocking grew more forceful, finally turning into a heavy impact.

This cabin in the deep forest didn’t have a reinforced metal door. The wooden door groaned under pressure, and the latch began to warp.

At the table, Bai Shuangying lightly tapped his finger. The meat on another chicken drumstick separated itself from the bone.

He picked up the steaming meat with his chopsticks and placed it into Fang Xiu’s bowl. “Eat more. I added a lot of medicinal herbs.”

Fang Xiu wolfed it down. “Thanks, thanks. I swear I’ll grow some muscle. Guan He’s already bulkier than me. It’s not fair.”

Zhou Xingquan was losing his mind. Was this really the time for flirting?

Still, even if they were a little strange, he had to repay the meal. Zhou Xingquan suddenly stood up, grabbed a kitchen knife from the counter, and positioned himself between the door and the table.

Bang!

The wooden door finally burst open.

But the one who entered wasn’t an intruder, but a flood of blooming red flowers.

Zhou Xingquan had spent years in the field, yet he couldn’t identify this species right away.

The flowers looked like a cross between lilies and orchids, their petals as thin as red threads, glowing faintly like red lanterns swaying in the night.

They collapsed in a heap at the doorway, loosely forming the shape of a human body.

Among the blossoms lay crumpled clothing and pants, and a pair of shoes and socks lay askew at the threshold—as if the moment the man crossed the threshold, he fell and scattered into these strange flowers.

Outside, there was nothing but cool mountain wind and the boundless night.

Zhou Xingquan stumbled back in fear, the kitchen knife clattering to the floor.

Fang Xiu had finished his meal and stood up briskly.

He pulled out a woven basket from the cabinet and began to gather the flowers, humming a tune.

Bai Shuangying, looking unbothered, cleared the tableware and casually picked up the knife Zhou Xingquan had dropped.

Seeing Zhou Xingquan frozen stiff, he curled his lip slightly. “I can erase your memory.”

Driven by scholarly curiosity, Zhou Xingquan murmured, “No… No need. I want to remember.”

Bai Shuangying said indifferently, “As you wish.”

Zhou Xingquan watched as Fang Xiu packed up the red flowers, picked some fresh fruit from the basket, and walked toward the back door of the cabin.

That wall had no windows. Zhou Xingquan had assumed it led to a bathroom or something and hadn’t thought much of it.

Now, staring at the blank wall, he felt everything was off.

Seeing Bai Shuangying follow, Zhou Xingquan nervously trailed after them.

The moment he stepped out the back door, Zhou Xingquan stopped breathing.

In the darkness, a field of those blood-red flowers had bloomed. They swayed gently in the night wind, their glow making Zhou Xingquan’s skin crawl.

At the center of the flower field stood an old-fashioned tomb.

The gravestone was large and beautiful. In front of it was a stone offering table. In addition to traditional offerings like fruit, the table also held odd items—vases with red paper flowers, instant camera photos, casino chips, and other trinkets.

“This is my parents’ joint grave.” Fang Xiu placed a few fresh fruits onto the offering plate and wiped the dust from the tombstone.

Zhou Xingquan nervously swallowed, eyes flicking to the basket of red flowers.

“Curious about that?” Fang Xiu finally looked at him and smiled. “That guy isn’t actually dead yet. His living soul was sent somewhere else.”

“Shuangying changed his body. Only when these flowers wither will he be completely dead.”

Zhou Xingquan: “…” That’s even more terrifying, okay?

And frankly, he didn’t want to know what “changed his body” actually meant.

Thankfully, Fang Xiu just shrugged and didn’t explain further.

He continued wiping the tombstone while muttering softly. Zhou Xingquan leaned in but heard no eerie chanting, but just idle chatter.

Almost everything he said was about his everyday life with Bai Shuangying, like a newlywed calling home. Bai Shuangying stood quietly at his side, occasionally nodding toward the tombstone in greeting.

After several minutes, Fang Xiu lifted the basket of red flowers and scattered them on an open patch of ground. The blossoms wriggled like living things and arranged themselves into a neat plot.

“All done.” Fang Xiu dusted his hands. “Good night, Dad, Mom.”

“It’s getting cold. Let’s go back in, Mr. Zhou.”

……

The next morning, Zhou Xingquan woke to the smell of instant noodles.

He felt fine. Not thirsty, not hungry, not cold, and no strange pains. He looked at his clean fingers, then at the looming shadows of the trees and the thick morning fog.

…Fog?

He jumped up, scrambling to his feet.

He found himself lying on a pile of dead leaves. He was wearing the jacket he thought he had lost.

All his gear was inside, intact. His backpack sat nearby, perfectly unharmed.

Not far beyond the bushes, people were chatting softly. Zhou Xingquan sniffed the air and smelled the familiar scent of braised beef noodles. That had to be his expedition team.

What was going on?

He pressed his temples hard.

He remembered going to the grave with Fang Xiu, planting the cultist-turned-flowers into the ground, then drowsily returning to the cabin and falling asleep on the couch…

Just recalling those memories felt absurd. He must have had a wild, fantastical dream.

Zhou Xingquan stood and walked toward his teammates.

“Oh my god, Lao Zhou?!”

“We couldn’t find you for a whole day. We were terrified!”

“Your equipment’s all here! Why didn’t you contact us?”

The camp burst into chaos.

“A whole day?” Zhou Xingquan muttered.

“Yeah, an entire day! You vanished yesterday morning!” everyone exclaimed.

Zhou Xingquan took a deep breath and opened his backpack.

Everything he had packed was there, not a single item missing…

In fact, there was something extra.

A single empty Wangzai soda can. Its bright red color stood out.

Zhou Xingquan shuddered and zipped the bag closed, exhaling deeply.

“Where did you go?”

“How did you find us?”

His colleagues asked persistently.

“I…” Zhou Xingquan opened his mouth, then swallowed the words.

“I forgot,” he finally said, firm and clear.

There was a hidden cabin in the forest, home to a young man wearing a red T-shirt, studying for the medical exam, and a white-robed figure who might be spirit or god.

They lived quietly, turning hostile cultists into flowers…

This ridiculous story would remain his secret.

A breeze blew past his backpack, lifting a glowing red petal into the air.

It spun gently into the mist and disappeared into the dark forest.


The author has something to say:

The secret base story of the young couple is complete!

Next up: their love stories in the human world—!


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Help Ch193

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 193: Cabin in the Woods (Part One)

Zhou Xingquan pulled his clothes tighter around him.

Even though it wasn’t yet dark, his vision had already begun to dim. Sunlight couldn’t penetrate the thick forest canopy, and the cold, damp mountain mist drifted through the trees. All around were grotesque, moss-covered giant trees. The ground was layered with thick, decaying leaves.

If he was lucky, the leaves might only conceal roots that could trip him. If less fortunate, he might step on a venomous snake or insect, or into mud that could swallow his feet.

Zhou Xingquan could feel his body heat rapidly fading.

…This was serious.

In recent years, some restricted areas of Xushan had been opened for scientific study. Scholars from many fields rushed to explore them. As a geologist, Zhou Xingquan had eagerly joined one of the expeditions.

To be fair, their team had excellent safety protocols.

The organizers had hired professional guides. Equipment like GPS and geological compasses was complete. There were also plenty of backup supplies, like medicine, clothes, food and water, leaving little room for accidents.

But Zhou Xingquan became that one accident.

He had left the group alone to relieve himself, only to lock eyes with a black bear.

His mind went blank. Acting on instinct, he ran two steps before taking a wrong step and tumbling down a slope, knocking himself unconscious on a rock along the way.

When he woke up, there was one piece of good news and a lot of bad.

The good news: the bear didn’t follow him. His limbs and head were intact, and none of his internal organs had spilled out.

The bad news: his backpack was missing, his gear-filled jacket had been torn off mid-fall, and he had landed in a creek, soaking him completely. He was left with almost nothing.

Surrounding him was only thick mist and trees. He had no idea how far he had fallen, nor which direction he had come from.

The temperature outside had been fairly warm, but in this deep forest, he was shivering with blue lips. If he didn’t find a way out before dark, hypothermia would kill him before hunger or thirst did.

…Was he going to die here?

Zhou Xingquan sniffled and called out a few times. The area was eerily quiet. His voice was quickly swallowed by the fog, as if he were the only person left in the world.

He thought about trying to make a fire to warm up, but his clothes were damp, and the nearby trees were covered in a slick, wet layer. Not even sunlight could penetrate this place. He had no idea how to start a fire.

Worse still, Xushan had been sealed off for over a thousand years. Even if he followed the water, there was little chance of encountering any locals.

He was truly doomed. If not for the need to conserve strength, he would have broken down crying.

After a moment of despair, he picked up a sturdy branch to use as a cane and began walking along the stream—not in the hope of meeting someone, but just to have access to drinking water if needed.

Nature quickly revealed its harshness.

Zhou Xingquan shivered uncontrollably, his legs growing heavier by the step. The soft decaying leaves turned into swampy muck that sucked at his feet, draining his energy.

He hadn’t eaten lunch. His stomach rumbled, and his throat felt parched. His surroundings looked cursed. The scene in front of him was just dull green, murky brown, gray fog, and… red?

Wait—red?

He perked up and walked toward the red spot. A few steps later, he realized what it was—

On a flat rock sat a neatly placed can of Wangzai soda and a stack of flaky pastries. The pastries were clean and looked freshly made.

Zhou Xingquan trembled from head to toe.

Fresh, manmade food appearing in a thousand-year-uninhabited primeval forest was even scarier than stumbling on a skeleton.

Was he hallucinating from the hypothermia?

He crept up to the food and poked it cautiously—Damn. It was still warm. The pastry’s surface was crisp, and the drink can retained residual heat.

If this was a hallucination, it was an incredibly convincing one.

Zhou Xingquan sighed for a long time, but in the end, survival instinct won.

He cracked open the can and downed the warm sweet drink, finishing the pastries in just a few bites.

With those solid carbs in his stomach, he felt slightly more alert.

He studied the now-empty can, mind still reeling. No matter how he thought about it, none of this made any sense. But he could still taste the lingering sweetness between his molars, as if reality itself were forcibly reminding him: “this was real”.

As he tried to make sense of everything, the red can in his hand suddenly twitched like a living thing and slipped from his grasp.

It rolled over and began spinning across the ground.

Zhou Xingquan: “……”

Great. He must still be unconscious. This was all a dream.

The can rolled at a perfectly manageable pace, just enough for him to walk and follow. When Zhou Xingquan stood frozen, it stopped too, bouncing in place as if to urge him forward.

If this was a dream, why bother caring so much?

It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go. Zhou Xingquan braced himself with the tree branch and decisively followed the bizarre soda can.

The can rolled effortlessly over layers of fallen leaves, past gravel-strewn streambeds and weed-choked trails. Against the gloomy, gray background, that streak of red remained his only guide.

He didn’t know how long he walked. The fog gradually lifted. The air became drier and warmer. The oppressive gray-green faded into lush emerald, and finally, he saw the sky—it was sunset, awash in red clouds.

The can stopped.

It didn’t need to lead any further. Zhou Xingquan now knew where to go.

He stood in a beautiful mountain valley. In the distance was a quaint, traditional wooden cabin, surrounded by vibrant flowers and greenery, a scene worthy of being called paradise.

Zhou Xingquan flushed with excitement.

There were people here. Even if this was a dream, it was a good dream.

He picked up the empty can and ran toward the cabin.

As he got closer, the smell of chicken stew hit his nose. It was hot, hearty, and full of homely comfort. He nearly burst into tears.

“Hello, is anyone there?”

He knocked firmly. “I got separated from the expedition team and got lost. Please help me—”

Creak.

The door opened. A young man in a red T-shirt appeared.

He looked under thirty, with slightly messy hair. His features were handsome but friendly, not the kind of beauty that kept people at a distance.

He was unmistakably wearing modern clothes—a pair of sneakers on his feet and a book titled “Comprehensive Medical Studies” in his hand.

“Expedition team?” the young man blinked.

“Y-Yes. My name is Zhou Xingquan. Can you contact the outside world? I can reach our team leader.”

Zhou Xingquan looked miserable. “I ran into a bear, fell off a cliff, lost all my equipment…”

“Oh, I’m Fang Xiu.”

The young man in red—Fang Xiu—smiled warmly and gestured for him to come in. “There’s no signal here. Come inside, change into something dry, and have a bowl of soup. Once you’re feeling better, we’ll figure something out.”

“Thank you, thank you so much!” Zhou Xingquan said, deeply moved.

Maybe this wasn’t a dream, he thought. At least right now, Fang Xiu felt very real. So did the scent of that chicken soup. It was filled with herbs, unmistakably brewed with care.

Maybe the can that guided him had been a hallucination, but this life-saving cabin probably wasn’t. Maybe Fang Xiu had left the supplies in the woods too. That would make sense.

He was saved.

Zhou Xingquan stepped into the warm cabin and immediately saw the ceramic pot bubbling on a gas stove. The stew simmered gently, its rich scent filling the room.

In front of the pot stood another person. Dressed in white robes like a character from ancient times, with long black hair cascading down, the man kept a focused gaze on the stew.

When Zhou Xingquan entered, the man turned his face. His snow-white eyes glanced at him briefly.

Zhou Xingquan: “…”

No, no, he wasn’t saved. This had to be a dream.

Otherwise, how could there be a “white-eyed, long-haired, robe-wearing ghost prince” character in such a modern-looking cabin?

“This is Bai Shuangying, my partner,”

Fang Xiu said cheerfully, unfazed by Zhou Xingquan’s inner crisis. “I’m staying here to study. It’s quiet and remote with no cell signal, which is perfect for focus.”

Bai Shuangying nodded absentmindedly, as if Fang Xiu had just opened a window and let a bug in.

But the moment Fang Xiu said “my partner”, the corners of Bai Shuangying’s lips lifted slightly, and his demeanor softened. He adjusted his left hand, revealing a wedding ring that matched Fang Xiu’s.

Zhou Xingquan gave up on thinking.

If he couldn’t make sense of the situation, he might as well rest.

He looked away from the surreal Bai Shuangying and took in the cozy cabin’s living room.

The interior was well-designed, clearly modern, and full of signs of daily life.

Sofa, tables, chairs, and appliances were all present. There was likely a generator outside. The cabin had a small kitchen, complete with utensils and dishware. A red-and-white checkered cloth covered the round dining table, topped with a vase of fresh wildflowers.

Aside from the otherworldly appearance of Bai Shuangying, the cabin was practically a perfect modern bed and breakfast. Its realism was undeniable.

Near the largest window, with the best view, was a spacious desk. On it lay a thick notebook, surrounded by textbooks and practice workbooks. Zhou Xingquan glanced over and noticed they were all adult college entrance exam prep materials.

“These are your books? You’re preparing for the adult college entrance exam?” Zhou Xingquan asked Fang Xiu, deciding not to question Bai Shuangying’s presence.

“Yeah, I had to put off school before because of some things. Now that I have time, my dad wants me to finish my education, and I want to get into college too.”

Fang Xiu looked a little shy as he spoke, handing Zhou Xingquan a set of dry clothes—a printed T-shirt and a pair of loose lounge pants.

“You want to study medicine? That’s amazing.”

Zhou Xingquan changed clothes as he spoke, genuinely impressed.

The textbooks were mostly about clinical medicine, filled with notes in various colors. It was clear that Fang Xiu had been working hard.

Outside the window, the sun dipped behind the mountains. The sky darkened quickly. Inside, the lights came on making it warm and comforting.

He didn’t have to wander the freezing woods in wet clothes. He could survive the night.

Now dressed in dry clothes, his exhausted limbs began to recover. Zhou Xingquan wiped his face and glanced again at the study materials.

He started to believe this wasn’t a dream after all.

As a geologist, he might be able to imagine someone like Bai Shuangying. But his brain couldn’t fabricate this level of detailed medical knowledge.

Maybe Bai Shuangying was just really good-looking, with a small cosplay hobby. Who knew?

“The soup’s ready. There’s bread and fruit too. Help yourself.”

Fang Xiu smiled, inviting Zhou Xingquan to sit and eat.

But Bai Shuangying didn’t sit down right away. He remained by the window, gazing silently outside.

His ghostly face held little expression, though his brows furrowed slightly.

“What is it?” Fang Xiu sensed something was off, though he didn’t look worried.

“We have a new visitor.”

After a pause, Bai Shuangying added, “…They don’t seem friendly.”


The author has something to say:

The young couple’s secret base~

Xiao Bai be like: I was going to make this place out of gold.

Since this is a sweet slice-of-life couple story, of course we’ll let bystanders watch and eat dogfood. √

Next chapter will be extra sweet!


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Help Ch192

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 192: Observation Report (Part Two)

There were a few veteran teams in this sacrificial round, and also no shortage of eccentrics.

The small disturbance stirred up by Li Changlang quickly settled. To be honest, compared to the two strikingly good-looking young people, the middle-aged woman who called herself “Uncle Hou” seemed even stranger.

But aside from that nickname, the woman was indeed very capable. She quickly organized everyone and found an empty office to serve as a base.

The young couple—Fang Xiu and Bai Shuangying—really did follow Li Changlang obediently, as if intimidated by his air of command.

It wasn’t dark yet. The orange-red sunlight slanted through the lattice window, casting golden shadows on the floor. Zhao Rui hid in the shadow of a rusted machine, waiting for nightfall.

The yin energy here was much denser than in the alley he previously occupied. Zhao Rui felt power surging through him, even his form became more stable. But he had no interest in refining the E here. His bulging bloodshot eyes focused only on Li Changlang.

“Our team’s support package is supplies. Let’s share the food.” Fang Xiu eagerly pulled out drinks and snacks, trying hard to demonstrate his usefulness. His attitude resembled that of a fresh graduate.

Li Changlang quickly grabbed a roast chicken, his expression easing. “Looks like food won’t be a problem. You two might be of some use after all.”

Seeing that everyone had started eating, Fang Xiu pulled Bai Shuangying up. “Let’s step out for some fresh air before it gets dark.”

Li Changlang pretended not to hear, but “Uncle Hou” commented, “Since this is your second ritual, you should understand how dangerous places like this are. Just endure it.”

Fang Xiu pressed his lips together and smiled a bit stiffly. “Sorry, I actually have a bit of claustrophobia. The large factory outside is fine. This room is too small, and it’s so crowded…”

Bai Shuangying put his arm around Fang Xiu’s shoulders and said bluntly, “If his mental state becomes unstable, his abilities will be affected.”

“Uncle Hou” clicked her tongue. “Don’t go far. Don’t touch anything. You must return before dark.”

Fang Xiu smiled apologetically and left the base with Bai Shuangying close by his side.

Back inside, Li Changlang was greedily devouring the roast chicken, grease dripping from his mouth. The sight disgusted Zhao Rui. He finally couldn’t bear it and decided to shift his focus to observing Fang Xiu and Bai Shuangying.

Earlier, an Underworld envoy had said that if he ever saw Lords Fang and Lord Bai, he would recognize them.

But looking at these two, apart from their exceptional looks, Zhao Rui felt nothing unusual. It was probably a coincidence one had the surname Fang and the other Bai.

Zhao Rui moved along the shadows, watching as Fang Xiu and Bai Shuangying walked hand in hand, stepping through the golden sunlight pouring through the windows.

They walked under the sliced beams of light, the atmosphere almost dreamlike.

“Look at this, an old machine from last century. You have to operate it step by step.” Fang Xiu wrapped an arm around Bai Shuangying’s waist and excitedly pointing at the silent metal giants in the factory. “Modern factories use fully automated assembly lines now. They look much more impressive than these.”

Bai Shuangying looked on appreciatively, the once-cold emptiness in his eyes now filled with curiosity.

“All it takes is these machines to turn ore into metal goods?”

“If you count from the mining stage, it actually requires collaboration between many factories,” Fang Xiu explained. “But the supply chain is really developed now. If you want to custom-make something with your ore, we can make a plan once we get back.”

Bai Shuangying: “People used to like golden chairs. I could gift you one. I promise it’ll be bigger than the one in any palace.” 

Bai Shuangying let go of Fang Xiu to confidently gesture with his hands.

“I have plenty of ore. Yuan Ye said his family wants to replace their sofa. We can hire someone to make a whole custom set.”

Fang Xiu: “…”

Fang Xiu: “For the sake of Uncle Yuan’s heart, let’s just buy a regular sofa.”

“I saw online that gold is really popular. Don’t you all like it?”

“It is popular, yes, but… it’s hard to explain.” Fang Xiu hesitated. “Just don’t order a gold sofa. And don’t throw your gold mines around carelessly.”

“Alright.”

Zhao Rui, who was eavesdropping nearby: “?”

This conversation didn’t seem… normal at all. It sounded like two psychiatric patients chatting in a shared hospital room.

Wait, what if they really were mentally ill murderers, and the human world couldn’t deal with them, so they were dumped here instead?

The more Zhao Rui thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. He sighed repeatedly.

In the distance, the conversation continued.

“Let’s talk about those scientists entering the mountains. I need you to loosen the restrictions. Uncle Yuan should have mentioned this to you.”

“I hate the living wandering around on my mountain.” Bai Shuangying retracted his arms and hugged them around his chest, his tone becoming more reluctant.

“It’s going to be designated a nature preserve. They won’t be allowed to mess around. Plus, every time they enter the mountain, I’ll go with them to monitor things,” Fang Xiu replied.

Bai Shuangying’s eyes lit up. “Every time?”

“Every time.” Fang Xiu kissed Bai Shuangying’s cheek. “They’ll stay as long as we stay.”

Bai Shuangying gave a satisfied nod. “Then they can enter anytime.”

He paused, then added, “How about this. I’ll build you a golden house in the mountain. That ‘golden house in books*’ phrase seems quite popular.”

*It’s an idiom that comes from a poem by Zhao Heng in the Song Dynasty. It refers to the value of education and reading, which will lead one to success, wealth, and prosperity (living in a golden house). In this case, Bai Shuangying is taking it literally… by giving him an actual golden house.

Fang Xiu tried to hold back his laughter. “I already have you. What do I need gold for?”

“Good point,” Bai Shuangying agreed after a moment of thought.

Seeing the sincere look on his face, Fang Xiu couldn’t help but laugh out loud. As he laughed, he looped his arms around Bai Shuangying’s neck, and the two of them naturally leaned in and kissed.

Zhao Rui: “……”

He had been a straight man in life. Even seeing heterosexual couples being affectionate in public made him feel awkward and uncomfortable.

Strangely, though, their kiss was heated but not lustful, tender without being fake. He couldn’t bring himself to dislike it.

If anything, it felt less like two humans indulging in desire, and more like two wild creatures nuzzling each other affectionately.

The scene was oddly pleasant to watch, though it didn’t match the gloomy, rust-stained factory surroundings at all.

Their kiss was long and focused.

Fang Xiu’s fingers sank deep into Bai Shuangying’s black hair. Bai Shuangying opened his arms and held Fang Xiu’s waist firmly.

After a full five minutes, they finally parted, reluctant to let go.

“That felt different this time,” Bai Shuangying said, pressing Fang Xiu’s lower lip with his finger.

“Different environment, different mood,” Fang Xiu mumbled as he playfully bit the fingertip. “But it’s a good difference, right?”

Outside the window, the orange-red sunlight was fading to dark crimson. The sun was about to set.

Shadows began to rise like mist. Their figures grew blurry in the growing darkness, but they remained standing there, clearly in no rush to return.

Zhao Rui couldn’t figure out what those two were up to.

As the sky darkened, other spirits were already eyeing them, waiting for a chance to tear them apart.

“What the hell are you two doing?”

Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out.

Li Changlang?!

Zhao Rui turned around in shock—he had never expected that Li Changlang would actually leave the base and come looking for them in person.

These sacrifices had experience and knew magic. A reckless attack would not end well. Zhao Rui had been wondering how to isolate Li Changlang. Now the fool had just walked straight into danger.

“Goddamn it, didn’t I tell you to come back before dark? Can’t you understand plain speech?”

Li Changlang cursed, his voice a little unnaturally hoarse.

Fang Xiu’s earlier poise vanished in an instant, and he reverted to that soft, unassuming demeanor. “But it’s not dark yet…”

“Back. Now. Stop talking crap,” Li Changlang grumbled and held out a hand. “Give me a drink, hurry up, I’m parched to death.”

…Huh?

Zhao Rui suddenly remembered that when Fang Xiu handed Li Changlang an entire roast chicken earlier, he didn’t give him a drink. Li Changlang, seeing that no one else received such generous treatment, devoured the food greedily and didn’t notice this detail.

That roast chicken must have been quite salty.

Zhao Rui looked at Fang Xiu in surprise.

Thinking carefully, none of the sacrifices were easy to deal with. Li Changlang was a newcomer who didn’t seem particularly capable. No one would willingly share their food or water with him.

Under normal circumstances, thirst could be endured. But with the most dangerous part of the night approaching, realizing that he was in the worst condition among the group could trigger panic and anxiety far more deadly than dehydration.

On the other hand, Uncle Hou didn’t want Fang Xiu and Bai Shuangying to get into trouble, but also didn’t want to risk someone valuable. Sending out the already anxious Li Changlang to call them back made perfect sense.

Not to mention, Fang Xiu had earlier declared he would follow Li Changlang. All the reasoning was already in place.

Could it be that Fang Xiu had secretly orchestrated this situation?

No, that couldn’t be. Fang Xiu had no grudge against Li Changlang. He was probably just being careless. It must have been a coincidence.

…Either way, for Zhao Rui, this was a golden opportunity.

Fang Xiu clumsily pulled out a can and handed it slowly to Li Changlang. Li Changlang snatched it, opened it on the spot, and chugged it greedily.

After just a couple gulps, he suddenly bent over and vomited violently.

What he had drunk wasn’t a sweet beverage, but vomit reeking of alcohol. Not only did it fail to quench his thirst, it also made him throw up the roast chicken he’d just eaten.

Fang Xiu rushed forward in a fluster, patting Li Changlang hard on the back. “This-This isn’t right. Something’s wrong!”

But he hit too hard, and Li Changlang was already retching badly. The force of Fang Xiu’s slap made Li Changlang lose his balance and fall right into the pool of regurgitated vomit.

Li Changlang staggered, his face turning an ugly purplish-red with rage.

“You useless piece of trash, apologize right now!” He wiped the filth from his mouth with a sleeve and roared, “You did that on purpose, didn’t you? You trying to mess with me?”

He completely forgot about the setting sun that was slowly vanishing. He raised his fist to punch Fang Xiu.

But before he could extend his arm, the last trace of daylight disappeared from the window. Shadows swept in like a wave, flooding the entire factory in the blink of an eye. Along with the sunlight, Fang Xiu’s harmless, frightened expression vanished.

Fang Xiu began to smile.

It was not the shy smile he wore when they first met. It was pure mockery.

“Don’t touch me,” he whispered. A red symbol flickered on his fingertip.

As soon as he spoke, Li Changlang’s filthy fist froze just millimeters from Fang Xiu’s nose. No matter what, it couldn’t make contact with his face.

Li Changlang’s expression changed.

He was brash, but not stupid. The moment he sensed something was wrong with Fang Xiu, he turned and bolted. While fleeing, he opened his mouth wide, preparing to shout for help—

“Don’t make a sound,” Fang Xiu said with a cheery smile.

Li Changlang’s jaw clenched shut with a snap. The scream lodged in his throat. He had no choice but to crawl and stumble his way toward the base. Zhao Rui stared at Fang Xiu, waiting for him to speak the next forbidden command.

But Fang Xiu didn’t say anything else. Instead, he turned his face, smiling, and looked straight at Zhao Rui.

“For you,” he mouthed silently.

Zhao Rui paused.

…Ah. He understood.

“Good evening, Lord Fang, Lord Bai,”

He instantly teleported to a spot along Li Changlang’s path, grinning with cracked purple lips, and stretched out his hands toward the wide-eyed, frantic man.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

Amid the sound of tearing flesh, Fang Xiu leaned against Bai Shuangying’s chest, gazing at the faint glow in the direction of the base.

“Ready?” he asked, tilting his head up at Bai Shuangying.

“Yes.” Bai Shuangying lowered his head, pressing his lips to Fang Xiu’s hair.

Li Changlang’s mangled body was dragged off into the depths of the shadows by Zhao Rui. The moment both figures fully disappeared—

“Help—!”

Fang Xiu shouted at the top of his lungs toward the direction of the base.


The author has something to say:

Main story complete!

The word count was well controlled, and the ending turned out more or less as planned _(:D 」∠)

Unfortunately, I couldn’t maintain perfectly consistent daily updates, and the update schedule got shaky in the late stages. Sorry for that… I’ll do better next time!

Next comes the extra chapters: a sweet two-person world for the couple. Extras will not necessarily update daily~

After the conclusion, there will be surprise extras of the couple’s daily life every Valentine’s Day and Qixi Festival!

————————————

Already completed: Western fantasy “Stray” and “Full Server First Kill”; post-apocalyptic “Happy Doomsday”, “Access Denied”; ancient xianxia “Sendoff”; and modern fantasy “Evil As Humans”. Feel free to check the author’s profile ☆

Please consider clicking “Follow this author” in the profile (〃ω〃)

————————————

Next story “A Contract Between Enemies” is tentatively scheduled to begin in July. The blurb is as follows—

A young noble attempted to summon a demon, but the ritual failed, and he died on the spot. 

The bad news: He accidentally summoned a Chaos Archdemon, who then took over the body of the sacrificial slave. 

The good news: He also accidentally summoned the spirit of the Hero who perished alongside the same Archdemon, and this spirit possessed the dead young noble’s body. 

When enemies meet, their eyes blaze with hatred. But now they were stripped of their powers that once shook the heavens and earth, and inexplicably unable to kill each other, they could only chip away at the walls.

Even worse, the world outside had changed beyond their recognition. Their epic battles had been reduced to mere exaggerated legends.

So, for the first time, they reach an agreement: Figure out their current situation, regain their power, and then, finally, do everything in their power to kill each other again.

A hero with shattered pride × a demon god who lost his body

Two former legends, both down on their luck(?), starting from zero again in a noob village—going from mutual destruction to a shared adventure for survival.


Kinky Thoughts:

This marks the end of the main story of Help. If you enjoyed it, please consider supporting the author by buying the raws. You can use Google Chrome with their auto translate and this guide on how to buy novels on jjwxc. Remember, only with your (financial) support can artists continue to produce more great works.

I have also translated all the works Nian Zhong has mentioned in her author’s comment. You can check them out by clicking on them. I highly recommend Stray as it is my favorite work by her as of date.

Now, onto my personal opinion about this work. I would say this wasn’t my favorite by Nian Zhong. The writing was fine, and I actually do like the CP, even as twisted as Fang Xiu is. Compared with other unlimited flow novels I’ve read, it certainly is a lot better, especially in terms of wrapping things up without any plot holes. As usual, Nian Zhong is a master at putting all the pieces together step-by-step to form one cohesive plot.

I think for me, each of the “arcs” weren’t really that interesting? Part of what makes Nian Zhong writing so good are the characters, and in this series, all of them besides Fang Xiu and Bai Shuangying fell flat. Each of the arc held very little emotional weight since I couldn’t even be bothered to get invested in the side characters or their story. 

Hell… even the pet felt like it was an afterthought and was only shoehorned in because “Nian Zhong’s story always have to have a pet”. Not to mention everything is so black and white in this story. The villains are clearly evil and bad, and the “good” guys are there to dole out the punishment. Where’s the nuance? Where’s the ambiguity? Usually her characters are morally gray (well, in Fang Xiu case he’s clearly not gray in any area), including the “antagonist”. 

As I said previously in one of my thoughts, clear black and white characters make for a quite bland story. Perhaps I’m being too harsh, but I guess I expected more from Nian Zhong.

The main plot and overall twist are actually quite good, and I actually like the relationship between our MCs quite a bit… It’s also probably the most explicit in terms of writing Nian Zhong has ever written (somehow this passed JJ censorship???).

So overall, I would say, I’m pretty meh about each individual “parts” of the novel, but the overall combination of those “parts” makes for quite a good story. It’s like going to one of those set menus at a fancy restaurant and you’re served a 10 dish courses. While each individual dish ranges from meh to somewhat good, you weren’t really wowed by anything, but then thinking about the courses combined as a whole, you find that your dining experience was quite enjoyable. This is how I feel about the novel.

Anyway, that’s just my personal opinion. It’s still a good novel and you shouldn’t let my opinion sway you from how you felt about it.

To end, I would also like to thank everyone for your comments, encouragement, help with my translations, and ko-fi donations. Until next time.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Help Ch191

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 191: Observation Report (Part One)

Late at night, in a dark alley of a bustling city district.

The alley was narrow and deep, flanked by towering building walls. Passing through felt like sinking into the sea. A middle-aged man, just off work, held his breath and quickened his pace to hurry through.

Halfway through, he suddenly noticed something ahead.

In the dim light, it looked like a man crouched on the ground. His outline flickered suspiciously, and he was letting out muffled sobs. The smell of vomit mixed with alcohol hung in the air, almost making the man retch.

“Hey man, are you okay? Do you need help?” The middle-aged man was blocked and couldn’t pass, so he cautiously asked.

The crying shadow didn’t respond. Gathering his courage, the man stepped closer and patted its back. To his shock, his hand touched nothing. It felt like the air inside a freezer, piercingly cold.

“Wuu… wuu… wuu…”

The crying shadow vanished, but the sobs still echoed through the alley.

Cold sweat broke out all over the man. He screamed and stumbled out of the alley.

……

The next day, at an empty basement office in Taiyi City First People’s Hospital.

The crying shadow sat obediently in a chair. Across from him were an officer from the Underworld and a seasoned ghost who had followed Fang Xiu for some time.

“Let me see… Zhao Rui, twenty-three years old… The cause of death was drunk and unconscious at night, choked to death by vomit.”

The ghost flipped through the report. “Dying young with resentment is understandable. But your resentment is too strong. Ordinary people are starting to see you.”

The moment they received the report, the ghosts acted immediately and dragged Zhao Rui’s spirit out of the alley.

Even though the yin energy was heavy at night, this guy could be seen by regular humans with no yin yang eyes. If they left him alone, he would almost certainly become an evil spirit.

The Underworld officer stroked his chin. “This level of obsession can only come from hatred. Start talking.”

Zhao Rui lifted his bloodshot eyes. His face twisted with fury. “What’s the damn point of talking? The living couldn’t stop him. The dead can’t stop him either. So now you’re coming to stop me…”

The officer shook his head and placed a peachwood sword glowing with golden light neatly beside him. “Talk.”

Zhao Rui straightened up. “I’ll talk.”

Through sobs filled with hatred, Zhao Rui recounted how he died—

He was a hardworking and traditional good student, who studied diligently and got into a top university. After graduation, he entered a prestigious company in Gui Province and landed a job that many envied.

From any angle, it was the perfect start.

But Zhao Rui was assigned to a terrible boss.

The boss was named Li Changlang, a long-time employee at the company. His position was neither high nor low, but he had personal ties with upper management and a very secure status.

This man had no real hobbies, except tormenting young, capable workers.

When Zhao Rui was still an intern, he saw three or four fellow interns break down crying after being scolded by this old guy.

One girl received vaguely inappropriate text messages from him and was so frightened she didn’t know what to do. Another was forced to drink late into the night with clients and eventually quit the internship.

Even Zhao Rui, being male, wasn’t spared. Fetching tea, buying breakfast—those were the small things. If the project metrics didn’t look good, he had to take the blame for Li Changlang’s decisions.

But Zhao Rui didn’t dare to resign.

The boss was awful, but the company, the projects, and the position were excellent. If he could endure for two or three years, the experience would look great on his résumé.

If he gave up now, he’d lose his fresh graduate status and risk being judged by future employers as lacking stability.

“I found out later that in over twenty years at that company, he destroyed at least four young people.”

Zhao Rui gnashed his teeth. “One was harassed until she broke down and killed herself in a rented room. Another was deliberately overworked to death at his desk. Another quit in depression and self-harmed into disability. One was forced to drink with him, went home drunk, fell, and died.”

“I was the fifth. I didn’t follow his orders at a business dinner. He went rabid. I thought being cautious would be enough. If only I’d known…”

As he spoke, he broke down again.

“Haa. Just picking on fresh graduates… it’s hard to survive in the mortal world.”

The ghost consultant sympathized. “Things like this don’t even count as workplace injury, let alone legal accountability. But down here, karma gets tallied. Do you want to claim this blood debt?”

The Underworld officer hummed. “Lord Fang’s judgment standard is ‘malice’. If this is all true, we’ll deal with it.”

The only question was whether they’d assign the case to an eight-time ritual with no rewards or a full unlimited package.

“Now we’re offering you a new job. As compensation, you’ll get a chance to punish him personally.”

The officer pulled out a cinnabar pen. “If you’re lucky, you might even witness his death.”

“I’ll do it!”

Zhao Rui’s bloodshot eyes widened. He agreed instantly.

“I haven’t told you the cost yet,” said the officer, half amused.

“I don’t care what it is. Any price is fine, even if my soul gets torn apart.” Zhao Rui spoke through blood-filled tears. “My life is ruined, completely ruined. My parents will suffer too. And that bastard gets to live comfortably? I can’t stand it.”

The ghost official wrote up the contract with elegant strokes and slid it over to Zhao Rui.

“It’s not that serious. You just sign the ghost contract and agree to be managed by the Underworld. Right now, you’re no different from an evil spirit. We can’t let you roam around the living world.”

“Thank you… Thank you… wuu…”

“Save your thanks for Lord Fang. The Underworld didn’t use to have procedures like this.” The ghost waved its hand.

That night, at the top of the Disaster Relief Tower.

Zhao Rui passed through the smoke gate and was led by the ghost officer to this strange place. At first glance, it looked like a traditional study room, with many ghosts lining up in an orderly queue.

At the head of the line sat a towering ghost in a wedding robe. Zhao Rui couldn’t tell what kind of ghost she was, but like a mouse facing a cat, he instinctively felt fear and awe.

“Is that Lord Fang?” he whispered to the ghost officer who brought him.

“No, that is Lord Fang’s subordinate, Lady A’Shou,” the officer corrected quietly.

Zhao Rui stood respectfully. Even a subordinate had such overwhelming presence, then Lord Fang must be an even more powerful being. He tidied his clothes and imagined a three-meter-tall underworld version of Justice Bao.

The ghosts brought here were all said to have blood debts confirmed and contracts signed with the Underworld—

“Zhao Rui, right? Here’s your number. We’ve got the ruling on Li Changlang. We’ll assign a proper ritual to handle him.”

“Rest well tonight. An Underworld officer will come find you tomorrow. Since you have a grudge with the target and need memory retention, don’t forget to sign a ritual confidentiality agreement.”

A’Shou wrote down the record on a scroll, tore off a slip, and used a cinnabar pen to write “Number Eight” on it.

She waved her hand. “Next.”

Zhao Rui: “…”

What could he say? The process was certainly efficient, but it just felt oddly familiar.

Lady A’Shou handled things neatly and swiftly, but her vibe didn’t match Zhao Rui’s image of a ghost at all. She felt more like a seasoned doctor in a hospital outpatient ward.

Still, he had no complaints. The Underworld’s efficiency was evident, and it only made him more curious about Lord Fang.

“When can I meet Lord Fang?” Zhao Rui asked eagerly.

The ghost officer smiled slightly. His human appearance faded revealing his true form of a paper figure.

“To be precise, it’s Lord Fang and Lord Bai,” it said in a sharp voice. “Those two are never apart. Once you see them, you’ll know right away.”

Never apart? Like the Black and White Impermanence*?

*Two gods in charge of escorting spirits of the dead to the underworld.

But even after Zhao Rui joined the ritual, he still hadn’t seen the legendary pair.

He was guided to an abandoned factory, isolated from the world. Among a dozen terrified faces, he immediately spotted the shovel-like face of Li Changlang.

Yet among them, the most eye-catching weren’t Li Changlang, but a pair of young people.

The two wore striking matching red and white outfits. Their fashion was stylish, their figures elegant, which made them stand out from the crowd.

The taller one had long hair, wore a mask, and his pale eyes shimmered with strange light. The shorter one had a slim, fit build, gentle handsome features, and a slightly shy smile.

They held hands affectionately, each wearing matching rings on their ring fingers. Even the dullest observer could tell they were a couple.

Li Changlang’s eyes flicked around and quickly locked onto the attractive pair. First he looked relieved, then pressed his lips tight and furrowed his brow, putting on his usual disgusted expression.

“You’ve got time for this crap at a time like this?”

He stepped forward and barked, “Disgusting. You two better say now if you’ve got any filthy diseases, especially the one in the mask—”

The man in white had his face hidden by the mask, but his eyes were full of contempt and killing intent beyond his age. Even Zhao Rui shuddered at the sight.

The man in red smiled undisturbed, as if completely unaffected by Li Changlang’s hostility. He held his partner’s hand tightly, looking like someone with a very good temper.

“Wearing the mask is just his habit,” he said warmly. “This is our second ritual. We’ll do our best to keep up and not drag the group down.”

Everyone present wore bitter expressions and hostile stares. Not a single face was friendly. The two young men among them looked like lambs in a pack of wolves.

“The first ritual only left two survivors. You’re basically useless, huh? Just don’t run around. Do as you’re told,” Li Changlang sneered without hiding his contempt.

The man in red still didn’t get angry. Instead, he turned politely and reached out a hand toward Li Changlang.

“You’re absolutely right. We’ll be careful to cooperate with the team.”

“I’m Fang Xiu. My partner here is Bai Shuangying. May I ask your name?”

“Li Changlang.” Li Changlang raised his chin and ignored the offered hand.

Fang Xiu withdrew his hand with a smile, his gaze casually sweeping over Zhao Rui’s direction.

“Very well, Mr. Li,” he said respectfully. “You seem to know a lot about this. Can we follow your lead in what comes next?”


The author has something to say:

Hubby work (game) routine is here!

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Help Ch190

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 190: Date (Part Four)

When they returned to the formation near Xushan, Gao Shan was still in shock.

Fang Xiu cheerfully carried him by the collar all the way back to the small courtyard’s second floor. Once the door opened, they were back in the human world. Shards of porcelain lay in the abandoned formation, thick yin energy swirling at the edges.

The four black Taoists had failed to complete their spell and were now gone.

Thinking about how easily those so-called masters had been dealt with, Gao Shan was drenched in sweat, both front and back.

“You couldn’t exorcise the spirits on me because I am the spirit. So they transferred themselves to me without charge. Remember to refund the deposit,” Fang Xiu said brightly as he picked up the porcelain shards, completely ignoring the heavy yin energy around them.

Gao Shan wiped the blood at the corner of his mouth, fumbling to transfer money. He wouldn’t dare say a single word of protest.

Even if the laws of the living world didn’t apply here, these two were clearly not ordinary humans. Gao Shan might not be a true master, but he at least understood one basic rule of the trade: never sign a contract with a spirit. The consequences of breaking it were beyond terrifying.

The problem was, he’d pictured a moonless night in the wilderness, accidentally bumping into a wild ghost—not two evil spirits sweetly shopping for rings in broad daylight, in the middle of the city!

Fang Xiu placed two porcelain fragments in his palm and gently rubbed them. “Judging by how that group of black Taoists reacted, you’re a black-market middleman, specializing in connecting rich clients with shady masters.”

“And that jewelry store isn’t your regular job, right?”

This guy’s eyes were too sharp. He’d seen through Gao Shan’s entire act at a glance. Gao Shan was on the verge of tears. “Yes, yes, sir.”

He’d mistaken Fang Xiu for a young-faced old ghost.

Fang Xiu couldn’t help but laugh and didn’t bother to correct him. “You’ve indirectly harmed many people, but there aren’t many blood debts on your hands. You’re used to skirting legal loopholes, and the victims probably can’t easily hold you accountable… hmm.”

There was a lot of gray area in the antique business, and connecting clients with “Masters” was even harder to regulate. It would be difficult to prosecute him under human law. On the other hand, his crimes weren’t severe enough for the Disaster Relief Tower either. He was a classic case of a slippery criminal.

Normally, Fang Xiu would’ve had Bai Shuangying erase his memories of the Tower, but…

“It’s rare to find a living person. You’ll work for me to atone,” Fang Xiu decided decisively.

Bai Shuangying glanced disinterestedly at Gao Shan and said frankly, “He’s too weak. He’ll just cause trouble.”

In front of Bai Shuangying, Fang Xiu gently played with the porcelain shards between his fingers, as if he was caressing a lover’s skin.

“He’s at least a novice cultivator that can see ghosts. All of my subordinates in the living world are ghosts. Some tasks are inconvenient for them, so a living human is useful.”

Gao Shan hated that he understood these words. Somehow, hearing them strung together was terrifying.

But this also meant he’d have a chance to move freely. He’d saved quite a bit over the years, enough to escape to a small country down south.

Yes, all he needed was a chance…

Suddenly, his back turned cold, and his body went numb. His legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground.

He raised his head, trembling, and saw the man in white twirling a few strands of red thread around his fingers.

They hung down softly, tangled together. The ends were connected to Gao Shan’s back, though he couldn’t tell where they had come from.

What kind of spell was this? He didn’t know. He had never even heard of it.

“You’re sure you want this one to work off his debt?” Bai Shuangying asked carefully.

“I am.” Fang Xiu pressed the porcelain to his lips. “Because of him, I found this lovely thing. He deserves a little courtesy.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Bai Shuangying gave a flick of his fingers.

The red threads sprang to life, racing to coil around Gao Shan’s neck. His face turned red and bulging, veins popping as he clawed at the grass, gasping and choking.

Bai Shuangying was unmoved. He turned his hand and passed the knotted ends of the thread to Fang Xiu.

The moment they touched Fang Xiu’s palm; the threads vanished without a trace.

Gao Shan took a ragged breath. Though he felt nothing on his neck, the suffocating pressure remained.

“Those are karmic threads formed by your blood-debt. I only hid them.” Bai Shuangying explained calmly. “Fang Xiu can control their tightness at will. Even if you fled to the ends of the earth, you couldn’t escape.”

Gao Shan: “…”

A full-blown evil spirit, 200% confirmed!

Was this even legal under the Underworld’s rules? Who were these two?!

“All right, your first task.”

Fang Xiu clapped his hands. “Make a list of the most well-known ‘Masters’ in your network. Then arrange a meeting between me and one of them. Sounds easy enough?”

“But if they disappear, no one in the business will trust me again…” Gao Shan’s eyes welled with tears. This would ruin him.

“Relax.”

Fang Xiu flicked a finger, and Gao Shan’s neck tightened a bit. “If they’re truly ‘qualified’, no one will remember them.”

“Do you still remember what those four guys who were with you earlier looked like?”

The words caught in Gao Shan’s throat.

He glanced at the formation used to “bless” the porcelain fragments. It definitely required four Taoists to activate.

Logically, he must have brought Fang Xiu and the others here to meet those Taoists. After that… after that… he remembered going to the villa to drink tea, he remembered that terrifying dimensional space, all quite clearly.

But he couldn’t recall the appearance of the Taoists. Not their features, not their gender or age. Not even the exact number. He just vaguely knew there had been a few “roles”.

When had he forgotten?

In horror, Gao Shan looked at the red-and-white pair who had brought all this on him.

At that moment, he gave up entirely on running away.

……

The sun set, dyeing the sky a fiery red.

Xushan in the distance was swallowed by shadows, becoming a winding and majestic silhouette. Gao Shan turned his back on the beautiful mountains and fled the scene like a man escaping death, heading for his new job.

Fang Xiu was quite pleased. “Even recyclable trash can be useful.”

As the saying goes, birds of a feather flock together. The remaining Guishan cultists hiding in the country must have ties to scum like this.

If you’re going to pull weeds, you remove the roots. He wasn’t about to rely on ghosts or the authorities to investigate. If there was revenge to be had, he wanted to take it personally.

“What are you planning to do with that porcelain piece?”

Compared to dealing with mortals, Bai Shuangying was more interested in Fang Xiu’s little shards.

What was Fang Xiu preparing to give him?

Just thinking about it filled Bai Shuangying’s chest with a warm fullness.

“This… I might need your help.”

Fang Xiu turned toward him. The setting sun sank slowly behind him, casting his face into soft shadows.

“You know I’m still not great at controlling power.”

He picked up the beautiful white porcelain shards. The fading sunlight reflected red light off them.

Fang Xiu slowly opened his mouth and gently placed them inside, as if swallowing two glowing flames.

Bai Shuangying: “?”

He stepped forward in concern, watching Fang Xiu’s lips.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

Faint chewing sounds emerged from Fang Xiu’s mouth. The yin energy of the Immortal E surged wildly, like a whirlpool.

After the crunching stopped came the gentle sounds of something swirling, like a tongue playing with candy.

A dozen seconds passed, and even the faint sounds of moisture faded. Fang Xiu curved his lips into a smile and suddenly leaned in to pull his ghost into a warm embrace.

Bai Shuangying: “???”

These days, he had thought he was improving at understanding humans. But at this moment, he still had no idea what his own human was doing.

Yet Bai Shuangying remembered the most basic of signals.

For example, when Fang Xiu leaned close, breathing warmly on his face, it meant he wanted a kiss.

Bai Shuangying cupped the back of Fang Xiu’s neck and bent down.

He would see whether Fang Xiu’s mouth was hurt.

But when his tongue entered that warm space, instead of the taste of blood, it bumped into something small and hard—like a pearl hidden between tongue and lips.

…It was the porcelain shard.

As the All Phenomena E, Fang Xiu had clumsily fused it into his body. He’d done quite well.

But this kind of traditional surprise didn’t quite match Fang Xiu’s usual style. Bai Shuangying softened his kiss and stroked Fang Xiu’s soft black hair.

Suddenly, he felt a trace of spell energy leak from the porcelain bead.

He immediately realized Fang Xiu was trying to mimic what he had done to Gao Shan—trying to extract karma. But with no experience in magic, the attempt had failed completely.

“Help me.”

In the moment they paused to breathe, Fang Xiu bit Bai Shuangying’s lip and spoke unsteadily.

Ah. That explained it.

Bai Shuangying decided to raise his opinion of himself. In certain warm and special moments, he didn’t need to think. He just knew what his clever little human wanted.

Fang Xiu had said it from the beginning. He wanted to return the gesture with a ring of his own.

Bai Shuangying tightened his embrace and kissed him harder.

This time, it wasn’t to find wounds or taste energy essence; it was to…

Around that little porcelain bead, delicate red threads began to form, curling at the tip of Fang Xiu’s tongue.

The statue hadn’t been him, and the porcelain shards only carried the misplaced devotion of mortals. Yet Bai Shuangying remembered clearly that his first step into the world of the living had come from curiosity about a little porcelain figure from a human.

White and beautiful, a tiny porcelain statue. It was used as a sacrifice by a lost child wanting to go home.

It had drawn him into the world and sparked endless conflict.

White and beautiful, a tiny porcelain statue. It was as a sacrifice by Zhuang Guiqu to seal him away.

Centuries later, when he met Fang Qiongyu, a man simply hoping his wife and child would return safely, Bai Shuangying had stepped in and cut off the last karmic thread to the mortal world.

White and beautiful, a tiny porcelain statue. Now the child who had made it had returned, appearing in front of him, and turned it into a gift.

No longer was it a sacrifice, but a gift that belonged to him.

Their unique karma took form in the red thread, endlessly twining together. When they first met, Bai Shuangying had forged a ring from strands of hair. Now, he used karmic threads to shape an identical ring.

The kiss finally ended. Fang Xiu stepped back with a smile and opened his mouth.

He stuck out that wicked little tongue, balancing a delicate ring on the tip.

Red band, white pearl. The design was simple, even plain. The karmic thread had fused into a red-jade-like material, and the inlaid “pearl” glowed with a soft white light.

Aside from the color of the band, it matched the hair-ring Fang Xiu had once worn exactly.

Fang Xiu lowered his head slightly. The ring fell gently into his palm. Not even a drop of saliva clung to it.

“Give me your left hand.” Fang Xiu examined the ring and expressed his satisfaction.

Bai Shuangying happily held out his hand, palm up.

Fang Xiu smiled and gently turned over the familiar pale ghost-hand.

He carefully slid the ring onto Bai Shuangying’s left ring finger, just as he had once tied that fine red thread from a T-shirt onto it.

Then he held out his own left hand, interlacing his fingers with Bai Shuangying’s.

One ring red, one ring black. In the setting sun, the colors shimmered like a dream.

“I recall this is a mortal custom,” Bai Shuangying whispered. “The modern version of wedding vows.”

“Do you like it?” Fang Xiu kissed their joined fingers before letting go. 

“This is my favorite object in the world.” Bai Shuangying smiled, admiring his new treasure. “But now that I think of it, you were wrong about one thing.”

“Oh?”

“You said once we exchanged rings, we had completed the mortal custom. But as far as I know, mortals getting married must bow to their elders.”

He looked toward the distant Xushan.

“I was born of the earth and sky, with no one to bow to. You’re different. We’ll go retrieve your father’s remains and bury him beside your mother.”

“Then we’ll properly inform them of our happy union. Shall we?”

Fang Xiu froze for a moment, then smiled even brighter. “Of course. They’ll be happy.”

Bai Shuangying took a few light steps forward and reached back for Fang Xiu’s hand—intentionally offering his left hand to show off the wedding ring. That once-empty ghostly hand now shimmered with a touch of life.

“Come with me,” he said.

“I’ll lead the way for you.”


The author has something to say:

The two have finally exchanged rings! Applause!

I now pronounce you married!!!


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