When one was under the eaves of a house, one had no choice but to bow their head.
Not long after Kan Chaosheng transformed, he serendipitously joined the Special Administration Bureau. Although there were experts hidden among the ordinary-looking staff in the Bureau, even the doorman was a rare master; Kan Chaosheng knew he had always been under Long Shen’s protection. For a newly transformed creature like him, it was easy to encounter interference that could hinder his spiritual progress. It was because of Long Shen that he could transition safely within Group 2.
However, comfort could lead to complacency. Only when he was restrained by Chang Qing and the prestige of the Special Administration Bureau failed him did Kan Chaosheng realize how much he had taken for granted. He understood that he had flourished in Group 2 because people like Dong Zhi and Zhong Yuyi had been accommodating to him. Even Long Shen, who seemed strict, had been lenient. Without this protection, he might have been expelled from the Bureau long ago. Kan Chaosheng began to reflect and regret his past arrogance.
Deng Po glanced at the disheartened Kan Chaosheng and whispered, “Why don’t you apologize to the master and ask him to release you?”
Engulfed in sorrow, Kan Chaosheng didn’t respond.
Even Deng Po’s mother felt pity seeing him like this. However, regardless of their pleas, Chang Qing remained resolute in not releasing him.
“You’ve been deceived by his appearance and now pity him,” Chang Qing said coldly. “Until I’m sure he hasn’t harmed anyone, I won’t release him. Push me further, and I’ll show you his true form. You might just die of fright.”
Left with no choice, Deng Po and his mother headed to the detention center and saw a dispirited and beaten Deng Bin.
In just a few days, he had lost a significant amount of weight, with a full beard. Deng Po hardly recognized him at first glance.
“Don’t worry,” Deng Po’s mother comforted him. “The lawyer is hired from Beijing by your brother. He’s experienced in defending such criminal cases. You must cooperate fully. Everyone is trying to help you. Don’t lose hope.”
Deng Bin, who was close in age to Deng Po, grew up under Deng Po’s mother’s care. He had a great relationship with his elder brother and sister-in-law. He nodded weakly in response, not saying a word. Seeing him like this, Deng Po’s mother sighed and introduced him to Chang Qing. “This is Mr. Chang. A very capable person I contacted through a friend. Let him check if there’s anything unusual with you.”
The case against Deng Bin seemed clear-cut, but to his family, it was shrouded in mystery. Deng Po’s mother didn’t believe he could kill. She even thought he might be possessed, which is why she went through great lengths to bring Chang Qing. It might seem superstitious, but she was trying every possible solution.
Deng Bin looked at Chang Qing, puzzled for a moment. Suddenly, as if recalling something, his spirits lifted considerably.
“Sister-in-law, I remembered someone who might be able to help me!”
Deng Po’s mother urged, “Take your time and explain.”
Deng Bin exclaimed, “Last time, when I went on an adventure to Kunlun Mountain with friends, remember?”
Deng Po replied, “Yes, you sent me photos!”
Deng Bin continued, “Yes, Xu Kun and I were close to Lengele Gorge when two men stopped us, claiming it was a restricted military area. We didn’t believe them until a storm brewed. A lightning strike nearly hit us, but one of the men used a sword to divert it. Later, he gave his contact to Xu Kun. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner! Get the number from Xu Kun and contact that master. He must have a solution. Sister-in-law, I really didn’t kill anyone!”
His emotions were all over the place, but everyone understood him.
Deng Po, familiar with Xu Kun and having trekked with him before, immediately said, “I’ll contact him right away!”
“Xiao Po, you need to tell him that I didn’t kill anyone!” Deng Bin kept repeating this phrase. His current state was very different from the carefree uncle Deng Po remembered. However, anyone in Deng Bin’s current predicament would probably not fare any better.
The haggard appearance of Deng Bin weighed heavily on the hearts of the two members of the Deng family. After leaving the detention center, Deng Po’s mother couldn’t wait to ask Chang Qing what he had discovered.
Chang Qing shook his head. “Even if the killer vehemently denies it, his face would unconsciously reveal a murderous aura. Although he looks unlucky right now, he doesn’t have that killing aura. Logically speaking, he shouldn’t be the killer.”
Deng Po’s mother was first relieved, then sighed deeply.
She trusted these words, but they couldn’t serve as evidence.
Chang Qing said, “If I could visit the crime scene, I might discover something.”
Kan Chaosheng, who had been silent, couldn’t help but mock, “If you’re incompetent, admit it. If my boss had personally taken action, this would have been solved by now!”
Chang Qing glanced at him, subconsciously categorizing his ‘boss’ as a demon, and coldly said. “Then I could capture one more demon.”
Kan Chaosheng laughed instead of getting angry. “Then try it, we’ll see!”
Meanwhile, Deng Po quickly got in touch with Xu Kui and hurriedly asked for the phone number of the ‘master’, only to find that his phone was switched off. Deng Po was persistent and called multiple times, to no avail.
Kan Chaosheng said indifferently, “Now, apart from my boss, no one can solve your problem. I don’t mind waiting.”
Chang Qing ignored him and still proposed to visit the crime scene or at least inspect the body of the deceased, both of which were now in police custody and not under the control of the Deng family. Deng Po’s mother was somewhat disappointed but not surprised. She knew that such a complicated murder case couldn’t be solved by esoteric methods.
In the afternoon, the police called to question the Deng family. Deng Po’s father also rushed back from the company. They went to the police station for questioning and were told that they might also need to visit the crime scene.
Chang Qing said, “I’ll go with you.”
Deng Po’s mother hesitated. “The police may not allow unrelated people in.”
Chang Qing insisted. “It’s okay, if I can’t go in, I’ll observe the surroundings; I might discover something.”
Deng Po’s father was skeptical of the “charlatan” his wife had brought. He didn’t believe in such things, but his father’s generation did. He opened his mouth to speak but eventually said nothing, allowing Chang Qing and Kan Chaosheng to join them en route to the police station.
The case had been exposed by the media. The Deng family’s status as wealthy businessmen, coupled with the sensational element of ‘wife-killing’ attracted widespread attention. A special task force was formed, with Captain Yin as the head. Both sides had met a few times, so they were familiar. But this time, the Deng family noticed that a young man in plain clothes stood next to him, and upon seeing him, Kan Chaosheng became agitated.
“Dong Zhi!”
Captain Yin frowned. “Who told you to bring children here?”
Dong Zhi was also surprised. He had just landed and was planning to rescue Kan Chaosheng but was urgently called by Captain Yin. Thinking that Kan Chaosheng was temporarily safe, he decided to wait until matters were settled here to go find him. He didn’t expect the person he was looking for to show up.
“Captain Yin, this is my colleague from the Special Administration Bureau.”
As Dong Zhi spoke, he walked toward Chang Qing and his group.
He had already noticed that some kind of restraint seemed to be placed on Kan Chaosheng; otherwise, he would have been jumping up by now instead of standing still with a flushed face and teary eyes.
“Hello, I’m Dong Zhi. What’s your name, brother?” He extended a hand to Chang Qing.
But Chang Qing frowned.
He possessed a natural ability to ‘sense auras’. At a glance, he could see the true forms of all beings with a lower cultivation level than his own. Therefore, he immediately recognized that Kan Chaosheng was a creature from the worm demon category. However, in this era, genuine dragons were rare, not to mention lesser dragons. Initially, he had mistaken Kan Chaosheng for a python.
Chang Qing naturally assumed that Kan Chaosheng’s backup would also be a demon, but it turned out not to be the case. The man in front of him seemed human but was surrounded by a faint mist, neither entirely human nor demon, and definitely not evil. For the first time in his life, Chang Qing was taken aback.
“Chang Qing.” He didn’t shake Dong Zhi’s hand. “What are you?”
Dong Zhi was taken aback. “What do you mean, ‘what am I?'”
Chang Qing pursed his lips. “I can’t see your true form.”
Dong Zhi, speechless, responded, “Nonsense. I’m human. What else could my original form be?”
Chang Qing shook his head. “That’s not right.”
Finding Chang Qing hard to communicate with, Dong Zhi moved to undo the restraints on Kan Chaosheng. Seeing this, Chang Qing attempted to intercept. Both remained stationary, engaging in a swift exchange using only their wrists. Dong Zhi swiftly drew a talisman, which flew towards Chang Qing with fierce momentum, forcing him to step back. Dong Zhi seized the opportunity to free Kan Chaosheng. As the latter was about to transform and attack Chang Qing, Dong Zhi decisively grabbed his neck.
“Chaosheng, behave!”
The tone was all too familiar to Kan Chaosheng, almost like that of his boss, Long Shen, but with a different voice. Kan Chaosheng angrily retorted, “He mistook me for a demon and detained me all the way!”
“I know. Let me handle this. Don’t act rashly and remember your status!” Dong Zhi said sternly.
Pushing Kan Chaosheng aside, Dong Zhi stepped forward, grabbing Chang Qing’s wrist as he was about to unsheathe his sword.
“Although Kan Chaosheng looks like a child, he’s an official of the state. Your unprovoked detention of him is a crime.”
Chang Qing, startled by Dong Zhi’s speed and words, asked, “A demon can be an official nowadays?”
Dong Zhi, imitating Liu Qingbo, rolled his eyes. “Where did you come from? Did you time travel from ancient times? It’s the rule of law now, even for demons. Understand?”
He took out an ID from his pocket and flashed it at Chang Qing.
“Director of the Special Administration Bureau of the People’s Republic of China, Lucheng Office, Dong Zhi. You’re suspected of obstructing official business and interfering with investigations. I need you to cooperate until we verify your identity. Captain Yin!”
Almost immediately after Dong Zhi finished speaking, Captain Yin had already thrown handcuffs over. Without looking back, Dong Zhi caught them mid-air and restrained Chang Qing, neutralizing his attacks in a swift, fluid motion that lasted no more than three seconds. It was executed with style and precision.
Not only were Deng Po and the police astounded, but Kan Chaosheng was also left agape.
Ever since Dong Zhi began his duties, Kan Chaosheng had never collaborated with him. He had heard of Dong Zhi solving many cases with excellence, gaining fame in the international conference, and even accompanying Long Shen on dangerous missions. Now, Dong Zhi was a leading figure in the bureau. But to Kan Chaosheng, Dong Zhi was still that newbie. Seeing this ‘newbie’ display such prowess challenged his perceptions, even making him question his own role in Group 2.
Dong Zhi clapped his hands and calmly said, “Alright, let’s get down to business.”
Ling Xiao darted through the energy storages so fast that even if someone stared at the monitor without blinking, they could barely catch a fleeting shadow on the screen.
Ling Xiao sprinted from one end of the hall to the other, finally spotting the similarly swift Ying Feng around a corner.
“Don’t think of losing me.” Ling Xiao sped up to get in front of him. Ying Feng just glanced at him lightly, not surprised by his appearance. “Don’t forget, I’m also one of the shareholders.”
Ying Feng neither welcomed nor rejected him. He threw the chip he got from Zhen He into the air, then made a magnifying gesture. A transparent map opened up, showing detailed routes drawn in white lines. As they moved, the map moved with them, even rotating based on their orientation. Even the locations of the cameras along the way were meticulously marked.
Guided by it, they avoided surveillance and went straight to a secluded laboratory. A warning sign on the door read: Critical Research Area — Unauthorized Personnel Not Allowed.
Presumably, no one was expected to visit, so the door wasn’t locked. Ying Feng stowed away the map, and the two pushed the door open and entered.
The so-called critical research area was much more rudimentary than Ling Xiao expected—a few unidentified instruments, some differently colored potions, shelves piled with old archives, and an ordinary-looking old computer in the corner. Its model was so outdated that many now wouldn’t deign to use it.
“It seems that this Master Tai Yin really values old things,” be it people or objects.
Without a word, Ying Feng pressed the power button. The aged machine, not used for a long time, buzzed impatiently. Ling Xiao blew on the dusty keyboard, and a cloud of dust made him cough.
Before Ling Xiao blew the dust off, Ying Feng had already covered his nose and mouth. When the dust settled, Ling Xiao’s eyes, tearful from coughing, were revealed. He was still waving his hand in front of him, with visible dust particles dancing around.
“Idiot,” Ying Feng muttered under his breath.
Ling Xiao, with teary eyes, looked at him resentfully. He had blown the dust off, fearing his hands would get dirty while typing, but now he was too choked up to speak.
Not wanting to waste time, Ying Feng connected the unlocker given by Zhen He to the computer. A loading bar immediately appeared on the screen.
In a short while, the password was cracked, revealing an ancient operating system. Ling Xiao had only seen such an interface in history books about computers.
Ying Feng was rapidly typing on the keyboard. Not knowing where Ying Feng had learned how to operate such an antique machine, Ling Xiao was amazed. “How do you know how to use this?”
Knowing that Ling Xiao wouldn’t let it go if he didn’t reply, Ying Feng said, “There’s a place called the library.”
“You specifically borrowed books to learn an outdated operating system?” Ling Xiao couldn’t understand. “You really go all out searching for the lover of your past life.”
“You wouldn’t understand.” Ying Feng was already browsing Tai Yin’s research logs, efficiently searching for keywords.
“This is it,” Hearing Ying Feng say this, Ling Xiao immediately leaned in to look. It was the first time their heads were this close.
—X Year, X Month, X Day. Today, Shang Yang tried to commit suicide. He stole my dagger and slit his wrist.
“So Tai Yin’s Qizi is called Shang Yang,” Ling Xiao commented upon reading. “I wonder if this name is from his past life or this one.”
“It’s definitely from a past life.”
“How do you know?”
“Because the journal is written by Tai Yin. No matter what his reincarnated form is named in this life, in his eyes, he’s always the past life’s Shang Yang.”
Ling Xiao couldn’t retort. He pursed his lips and continued reading.
—After I noticed his actions, I rushed to snatch the dagger from him. During the struggle, he also cut me. Our blood spilled to the ground at the same time. Then, something unbelievable happened.
—The blood from him, as if having a life of its own, flowed towards mine. It’s as if there was a magnetic pull between our blood. Both of us were stunned by this sight, and his suicidal act halted because of this.
—Eventually, our blood pooled together, with elements of me in him and him in me, becoming indistinguishable. I suspect that his blood in this life hasn’t been tainted and still carries the memories of the past life.
—If this hypothesis is true, then every fledgling who hasn’t undergone the coming-of-age ceremony can use this method to find their soulmate from a past life. Sadly, I can’t obtain more blood samples to prove this.
The research log ended here. The identification method described was much simpler than Ling Xiao had anticipated, but even Tai Yin himself couldn’t confirm its authenticity.
“Do you think what he wrote is credible?” After a long silence, Ling Xiao was the first to ask.
Ying Feng seemed to be pondering as well but didn’t respond.
After a brief moment, Ling Xiao asked, “Should we try it?”
Ying Feng frowned. “Try what?”
Ling Xiao turned his head to the computer beside them. This hint was clear enough for Ying Feng.
“There’s no need.” Ying Feng remained unmoved.
“Why not?” Ling Xiao stopped him as he was about to turn off the computer. “Do you think it’s impossible that we were connected in a past life? I also think it’s unlikely, but what if in our past lives, you were my Qizi…”
“It’s impossible,” Ying Feng coldly interrupted him. “Even if it’s from a past life, I couldn’t possibly be anyone’s Qizi.”
“How would you know without trying?” Ling Xiao provoked him without any emotion. “Or are you scared?”
Ying Feng swiftly drew his dagger. “Who goes first?”
All of Ling Xiao’s previous calm was just a facade. Seeing the dagger, he snatched it quickly. “Me first!”
Ying Feng looked displeased that his dagger had been taken. “Why don’t you use your own?”
“I didn’t bring it. Too much hassle.”
Ying Feng was speechless. A dagger was an essential weapon for every Tianxiu person, as crucial as a terminal or a card, yet Ling Xiao didn’t even carry one.
While Ying Feng silently judged him, Ling Xiao unhesitatingly pricked his fingertip. He looked around for a suitable place and finally chose a spacious windowsill. A drop of dark red liquid dripped onto the snow-white surface.
“It’s your turn.” He returned the dagger to Ying Feng, watching him do the same.
“It’s too far.” Ling Xiao quickly adjusted Ying Feng’s hand. “If it’s that far apart, the blood won’t flow together.”
“Are you done?” Ying Feng whispered angrily. “Just drip it together!”
Even though he said this, under Ling Xiao’s guidance, Ying Feng moved his fingertip and dripped his blood onto the windowsill, a finger’s breadth away from Ling Xiao’s blood.
Ling Xiao intently watched the two drops of blood on the windowsill, incredibly tense.
“Enough!” Upon hearing Ying Feng’s low shout, Ling Xiao realized he was still holding onto Ying Feng’s hand.
He immediately let go, rubbing his burning palm on his clothes. Ying Feng looked even more displeased.
Suddenly, one of the blood droplets quivered. The two men, filled with tension, turned their heads unbelievably to look at the windowsill, their shocked gazes almost piercing through it.
Far away, in an abandoned laboratory, no one knew that these two were conducting such a “ceremony”. Both were captivated by the images on a huge surveillance screen. Meteorites that survived the atmosphere, surrounded by roaring flames, whistled down from the sky. The 3D visual effect made people feel as if they were about to crash into the roof of the hall the next second.
It was the students’ first time witnessing this astronomical phenomenon so vividly. The brave ones watched intently, while the timid ones gasped. Seeing this rare educational opportunity, the instructor delegated tasks and started explaining the event to the students on the spot.
“Due to the presence of a nebula vortex around Tianxiu, asteroid disintegration events occur from time to time. To deal with such accidents, the base is equipped with a protective shield more advanced than that of the military. It not only prevents physical collisions but also resists high temperatures, radiation, magnetism, and toxins. Even the ultraviolet rays from the scorching sun are purified.”
For a better demonstration to the students and also for safety reasons, Zhi Shang ordered the staff to activate the base’s protective shield. A huge semi-circular transparent shield slowly rose from the ground, enveloping the entire base. The visibility of the shield was very low. If one didn’t look closely, they wouldn’t even notice it was there.
“Alright, now we are absolutely safe. Even if an asteroid falls directly on us, there’s nothing to worry about.”
This assurance calmed some, but a few students still looked anxious.
“Has our classmate been found?” This was asked by Ping Zong, who was worried about Ling Xiao.
“Ying Feng hasn’t returned either. Has anyone seen him?” Zhu Yue seemed to be the first to notice Ying Feng’s absence.
“Everyone, please stay calm. Our colleagues are already checking the relevant areas. Other students, please stay here and don’t act on your own.” A staff member stopped Zhu Yue, who looked eager to move.
Meanwhile, the person Zhu Yue had in mind, contrary to his usual calm, was staring intently at the two drops of blood on the windowsill. They sat still, making one wonder if the previous vibration was just their imagination.
A minute passed, and the blood remained unchanged. Ying Feng was the first to snap out of it, thinking he was foolish to have participated in this experiment with Ling Xiao. Even more foolish was that, for a moment, he felt nervous.
“Now are you satisfied?” His voice was back to its usual cold tone.
Ling Xiao’s face went through several expressions in a split second, which even he couldn’t interpret, let alone Ying Feng.
Activating the base’s protective shield was indeed an overreaction. Most of the falling meteorites were burned up mid-air, leaving only thick smoke. A few survivors crashed into the sea, creating huge waves.
“Isn’t the lighthouse by the sea?” Lan Sheng asked after watching for a while.
“Yes,” Zhi Shang replied.
“Then, isn’t the lighthouse in the most dangerous position?”
As if to prove his bad luck, a staff member urgently reported, “Chief, we’ve spotted a large meteorite. Based on its trajectory, it’s heading straight for the lighthouse!”
“Activate the lighthouse’s protective shield,” Zhi Shang ordered calmly.
“Yes!”
A moment of silence.
“Report! There’s a malfunction in the remote control of the lighthouse’s protective shield. It’s not activating!”
“What?”
Zhi Shang rushed to the controls, trying the activation multiple times, but there was no response from the lighthouse’s direction.
“Don’t we have daily routine checks? Who was in charge of security today?”
“Report, it was me!” A man stepped forward. Upon seeing him, Zhi Shang frowned. This assistant researcher named Yu Quan was introverted and rarely communicated with others.
Zhi Shang, in his official capacity, was his current superior and, privately, his former senior brother*. But even with this dual relationship, the two seldom communicated beyond necessary work discussions.
*[Shixiong] (师兄) Term used to refer to a male person respectfully who is more senior or older. In this context, it’s similar to senpai.
“Did you check the activation device today?”
“Yes, everything was fine at the time.”
“Then why the sudden malfunction?”
Yu Quan’s poker face remained unchanged. “I don’t know.”
“Calculate the remaining time before the meteorite might hit the lighthouse.”
The answer came almost immediately. “Two minutes thirty seconds, twenty-nine, twenty-eight…”
Zhi Shang handed over the on-site command to his deputy and entered the teleportation device inside the hall.
“Chief, where are you going?”
“There’s a backup manual activation button on the lighthouse.”
“But you can’t possibly make it there in such a short time…” Before the deputy could finish his sentence, Zhi Shang had already disappeared into the teleporter.
“Hey, come take a look at this.” Ling Xiao randomly flipped through files in Tai Yin’s lab and found something intriguing on one of the pages.
He pointed at a photo in the file. “Isn’t this Dr. Yao’s Qizi, Dr. Zhi Shang?”
Ling Xiao flipped back to the cover of the file to double-check. “So, Tai Yin used to be Dr. Zhi Shang’s mentor.”
Ying Feng turned off the computer and chimed in, “They were successive chief researchers of the base. It’s not surprising they have a teacher-student relationship.”
Ling Xiao turned to the next page and exclaimed, “So, Dr. Yao was also a student of Tai Yin? She was a researcher at the base too?”
This news piqued Ying Feng’s interest, and he came over to browse the file with Ling Xiao. Tai Yin had very few students, and the list ended on the next page.
“So, the three last apprentices the genius Chief Researcher took before defecting are Dr. Zhi Shang, Dr. Yao, and this… Assistant Researcher named Yu Quan. Zhen He said Tai Yin was exposed because of the betrayal of one of his students. Could it be one of these three?”
Ling Xiao mused, “Now one of them is the chief, one went to a primary academy as a health doctor, and the third’s whereabouts are unknown. Who knows what they were doing when their teacher caused such a huge commotion back then.”
Ling Xiao casually placed the file back where he found it. His attention was then drawn to the brightly colored potions on the experiment table.
“What are these…”
Before he could finish, a powerful force dragged him to the corner of the lab. Instinctively, he tried to scream, but his mouth was covered.
The first to make a video call to Zhou Qian was Dong Xiang.
As soon as the call connected, Dong Xiang’s face turned livid as he demanded, “What the hell do you mean?! Do you want to get rid of me most? I’ve never seen someone as despicable as you!”
In response to Dong Xiang’s rage, Zhou Qian calmly replied, “First, mind your words. You’re seeking my help, not the other way around. Second, I don’t necessarily want to kill you. I’m a rational person, and my principle is to maximize benefits—”
“If you return those two [Dalong, it’s medicine time.] to me and add some gold and items, I might consider giving you extra points.”
……
Just 10 minutes later.
Zhou Qian had negotiated a deal with everyone.
Previously, his Dalong pills were divided between the Dong Qi duo. Now, they were back in his possession. Not only that, but he had also amassed 2,500 gold and numerous valuable items.
While checking his inventory, Zhou Qian received another call request. He looked up and saw it was from Gao Shan.
Zhou Qian squinted thoughtfully before answering, “What?”
Honest and straightforward Gao Shan looked pretty angry. “Are you collecting money and items from everyone? Everyone’s bribing you! But who are you going to help?!”
Looking at Gao Shan, Zhou Qian’s eyes twinkled, and he suddenly asked, “How much do you love your Rongrong?”
Gao Shan looked somewhat panicked, then glared at Zhou Qian warily. “What are you trying to do?! What you said before… it wasn’t true, was it?”
“Which statement are you referring to?”
Zhou Qian feigned innocence, then smiled at him. “Oh, are you talking about what I said to you alone before entering the treehouse—’You’re very much my type. I want to fuck you’?”
On the other side of the screen.
Both Yu Xian and Zhu Qiang exclaimed, “Holy shit.”
A gay guy among us?
“You misunderstood, Shan Ge.” Zhou Qian sincerely waved his hand. “I can tell you love your girlfriend. I said that to provoke you, hoping you’d hit me.”
“Sure enough, you did punch me, which helped me deceive Dong Xiang and Qi Liuxing, making them think I had a way to drive a wedge between you and Rongrong. It was all strategy. Don’t take it personally.”
Gao Shan: “…”
“I’ll sincerely apologize to you and Rongrong for the offense.”
“…”
“I know you’re straight.”
“No shit!”
“Although I might not be that straight—”
“……”
“But rest assured, you’re not my type.”
“………………”
“But I am curious—”
Suddenly, Zhou Qian’s tone changed, and malice appeared in his eyes. “If I had to choose between you and Yun Xiangrong to die… who would you want it to be?”
Zhou Qian had suffered great losses, even being sold out by his own father.
It was hard for him to believe that there were good people in this world.
The words “Human nature is evil” had been deeply ingrained in him.
By posing a life-or-death question to the young couple, Zhou Qian could easily imagine Gao Shan begging him in tears—
Showing immense pain, but the words would be ruthless.
Humans were selfish.
He would definitely choose to let his girlfriend die.
But Gao Shan’s response was unexpected.
Almost without hesitation, he told Zhou Qian, “I’m willing to die for Rongrong.”
Zhou Qian was taken aback. “What did you say?”
Gao Shan replied, “I said I’m willing to die for Rongrong. Please give Rongrong more points. You can give me zero, I don’t mind. Zhou Qian, I don’t know you, but I think you… you’re really a bad person.”
Zhou Qian nearly laughed.
This straightforward man couldn’t even insult properly. In his extreme anger, he could only come up with the words “you’re bad”.
But looking at Gao Shan’s expression, for some reason, Zhou Qian suddenly felt he couldn’t laugh.
“I can’t imagine why someone like you exists. Are you enjoying this feeling… of playing with other people’s lives? Forget it, do as you please… If my death pleases you, then do it. As long as you spare Rongrong.”
“So you’d just give up your life like that? Should I call you stupid?”
Zhou Qian looked at him with a frown, noticing another incoming call notification. Glancing at the caller’s identity, Zhou Qian’s amusement resurfaced.
“Look, it’s your Rongrong, contacting me alone. Do you want to know… if I throw the same question to her, what choice will she make?”
“To be honest… I don’t know,” Gao Shan said hoarsely. “And I don’t want to know. Rongrong is smarter than me. In fact, I hope she will choose to let me die. Anyway, I just want her to live.”
Hearing this, Zhou Qian looked at him thoughtfully, his eyes turning into a mocking smirk, as if finding Gao Shan amusing.
“People like you will never understand.”
Gao Shan’s expression suddenly turned stern, his tone threatening like never before. “But you have to stick to your word! Kill me, fine. But you can’t harm Rongrong. Otherwise, even as a ghost, I will never let you go!”
He said this last line through gritted teeth.
His tone was so convincing that it seemed if Zhou Qian broke his promise, Gao Shan’s spirit would defy all obstacles and return from hell, just to tear Zhou Qian apart and avenge his Rongrong.
After a while, Zhou Qian laughed.
Staring at Gao Shan before him, he sighed as if reminiscing about a distant past. Then he muttered to himself, “Interesting. In my lifetime, I never thought I’d meet someone like you. In 22 years, I’ve only ever met one other eccentric like you.”
When Zhou Qian said this, his expression was entirely different than usual, as if he had become another person.
Who was he talking about?
Was his participation in the game related to that person?
Did he want to save that person?
Perhaps his heart isn’t as wicked as he portrays?
But Gao Shan didn’t have time to ponder. Zhou Qian quickly ended the video call.
Zhou Qian then started a conversation with Yun Xiangrong.
With a defiant attitude, Zhou Qian posed the same question to her.
Compared to Gao Shan’s straightforward answer, Yun Xiangrong’s was clearly more logical.
She looked at Zhou Qian and laughed. “Are you doing this for fun? Trying to make us betray each other while you enjoy playing with our emotions?”
Zhou Qian remained silent. Yun Xiangrong continued, “I’m willing to give you gold coins and items in exchange for your points, just as a precaution. After all, you seem like a psycho. If I anger you, you might act irrationally.
“But rationally speaking, I’m a healer, and Shan Ge is a tank. You need us in the later stages. So, I’m most likely sure you won’t kill either of us.”
“Then who do you think I want to die?” asked Zhou Qian.
Yun Xiangrong replied, “Of course, it’s Dong Xiang. He’s severely injured, and I don’t want to waste my mana healing him. Besides, his theft ability might not be useful in upcoming tasks. It would be wiser to keep a damage dealer like Qi Liuxing.”
Zhou Qian didn’t say much and quickly hung up the call.
In reality, he wasn’t just toying with them. He genuinely wanted to gauge their character, nature, and intelligence. He certainly got the answers he was looking for.
A minute later, Zhou Qian received a call from Qi Liuxing.
Upon answering, he heard an angry Qi Liuxing, who still had the voice of a teenager, demand, “Who are you going to help, Dong Xiang or me?”
Zhou Qian replied with a smirk, “Give me another thousand gold coins, and I’ll give you a higher score than Dong Xiang.”
Qi Liuxing retorted with a hint of amusement, “Dong Xiang still has one chance to call. I bet you’ll say the same to him.”
“You both are trying to bribe me with gold and items to eliminate the other,” Zhou Qian replied leisurely. “From what I see, both of you are willing to betray your teammates. Hey, I should choose the one with relatively better morals. What if, after leaving this treehouse, you try to betray me?”
Qi Liuxing quickly argued, “I just gave you 500 gold coins out of pity. Doesn’t that speak for my character? I truly just want to protect myself. I don’t want to take advantage of you!”
Pretending to just remember, Zhou Qian nodded slowly. “Right. There was that. I almost forgot if you hadn’t mentioned it.”
Qi Liuxing: “…”
Zhou Qian continued, “But that alone seems insufficient. Keep convincing me. For example… how much do you know about Dong Xiang?”
Upon hearing this, Qi Liuxing took a deep breath and forcibly suppressed his rage towards Zhou Qian, replying, “Had it been someone else, I would never betray them in such a situation. But Dong Xiang is different—”
“In the last instance, I saw with my own eyes how Dong Xiang poisoned many teammates just to monopolize a rare item. He didn’t really save me; I was just lucky enough not to be poisoned. He pretended to save me to fish for information, to see if I knew he was the real culprit.”
“I acted as if I knew nothing and even thanked him for saving my life, just to avoid raising his suspicions. So, what I’m doing now isn’t betrayal. I’m avenging our teammates!”
“I see.” There was a pause before Zhou Qian smirked as he looked at the LCD screen. “You’ve convinced me. Let’s send Dong Xiang straight to hell then. However…”
“What do you mean, ‘however’?” Qi Liuxing frowned.
Zhou Qian grinned. “You’ll need to transfer 1,000 gold coins to me. I’ve initiated a trade request. Kindly approve it.”
Qi Liuxing: “…”
Zhou Qian earnestly added, “Once we clear the level, any remaining coins will be settled accordingly. I’m not trying to scam you. I just believe it’s best if I decide how we allocate the money and what items to buy.”
“After all, I don’t want to waste time arguing with you.”
Qi Liuxing: “…”
Time ticked away.
With only 3 minutes remaining in this phase, Zhou Qian finally got a call from Dong Xiang.
It was evident from Dong Xiang’s voice that he was distressed.
Through the LCD screen, Zhou Qian could see that Dong Xiang was sweating profusely due to extreme fear. The loss of fluids and salts made his whole body tremble.
“Zhou… Zhou Qian, Qian Ge, Lord Zhou, you’re not planning to kill me, right?”
With difficulty, Dong Xiang swallowed. “I have a super rare item called the [Tick Tock Clock]. Despite its name, it can resurrect someone! I’ll give it to you if you spare me. Please give me the points. Oh, and I’ll give you all the gold I have. There’s no need to kill me!”
The [Tick Tock Clock]? The item he obtained by killing many teammates?
But it seemed that such a powerful item had strict conditions for use, like it could only be used to save others but not oneself. Otherwise, Dong Xiang wouldn’t be so terrified now.
Zhou Qian nodded. “Alright, hand over the [Tick Tock Clock].”
“You… I can’t trust someone like you easily!”
Through the screen, Dong Xiang’s eyes had turned a dead gray.
“Zhou Qian, open the trade window. Let’s set our terms transparently. You give me the points, I give you the [Tick Tock Clock]. Cash on delivery! I’ll only trust you with the system’s oversight!”
Zhou Qian seemed to understand, nodding in acknowledgment, but his gaze soon turned ice cold. “Suddenly, I neither want your money nor the [Tick Tock Clock]. I just want you dead.”
“You—!!! I’ll kill you!!!”
Dong Xiang roared, his voice echoing through Zhou Qian’s treehouse. Through the LCD screen, Zhou Qian could see Dong Xiang’s eyes, bulging and bloodshot, filled with rage.
Seemingly at his limit, Dong Xiang suddenly stood up, hurling his fist at Zhou Qian, or rather, the LCD screen. As he shattered it, Zhou Qian’s face fragmented into countless shards.
However, from those fragments, Zhou Qian’s pale face and intent-filled eyes stared back. The last thing Dong Xiang heard was his raspy, eerily calm voice that seemed to come from the depths of hell.
“Go to hell, Dong Xiang!”
……
At exactly 10 PM, the players, under the guidance of the goddesses, gathered by the lake with other believers.
After the ethereal bell tolled ten times, one priestess held Dong Xiang by his wrists and another by his ankles. They lifted him into the air above the lake and suspended him there.
Dong Xiang had already fainted, seemingly unaware of what was about to happen.
Not long ago, after the treehouse scoring game ended, the goddess announced the results.
“The lowest score is Dong Xiang, with only 0 points.”
After announcing the results, the two goddesses reached out their hands towards Dong Xiang with smiles, as if inviting him to play a game. “Let’s go, you’ve deceived the Great God. We will execute you in front of him!”
“Fuck off!” Dong Xiang suddenly pulled out a whip. “Let’s die together!”
The two goddesses sighed softly, looking at him with pity.
“How can a mere mortal think of killing a god?”
“Yes, sister, he’s both pitiable and foolish!”
Seeing that the goddesses were about to make a move, Dong Xiang suddenly knelt down. “Sister Goddess, I was wrong, I was wrong. I… I am ready to die. But before I die, can I say one last word to my friend?”
Dong Xiang kept kowtowing on the ground, blood and sweat dripping from his forehead, soon leaving a stain where they mixed on the ground.
Everyone initially thought he had gone mad.
Does he have a plan now?
Zhou Qian glanced at Dong Xiang and soon saw the two goddesses agreeing to his request.
Then, Dong Xiang took out an item from his bag.
It was easy to guess that it was the [Tick Tock Clock].
Is he trying to use this item to save his life?
Holding such a precious item and kneeling on the ground, Dong Xiang shuffled over to Qi Liuxing, tugging on his pants leg. “Brother, I can only rely on you now. This item can be used to revive teammates. Make it tick, and it can replace my heart. Please save me, okay? In the last instance, I saved you!”
Qi Liuxing pressed his lips together, then subconsciously looked up at Zhou Qian nearby.
Except for the person involved, only Zhou Qian knew the full story behind this.
Zhou Qian smiled, pondering the situation.
Zhou Qian smiled and met his gaze thoughtfully.
The young Qi Liuxing’s acting skills were clearly lacking. He could pretend, but difficult expressions were too much for him.
Qi Liuxing took a deep breath and emotionlessly said to Dong Xiang, “Alright. I promise.”
His expression was clearly just perfunctory.
Sure enough, Dong Xiang immediately noticed.
For a moment, Dong Xiang seemed to collapse, as his last glimmer of hope was shattered.
A liquid puddle appeared beneath him; a result of incontinence due to extreme fear.
The elegant goddesses could no longer bear it and quickly used their powers to knock Dong Xiang out.
One of the goddesses used her power to take Dong Xiang away. “This filthy body will defile our paradise. I’ll take him to change his clothes. Sister, you take the remaining believers to the ceremony.”
The other goddess nodded in agreement, leading the remaining four players towards the lake.
All 24 believers were arranged in three rows.
Zhou Qian stood at the end, in a corner position.
Ahead of him were two rows of heads, then the two goddesses holding Dong Xiang above the lake.
Further away was the god Epoh, with his eyes closed.
After what felt like ages, the winds in the palace ceased.
The tree shadows stopped swaying, and the features of God Epoh became clear.
After another chime, he opened his eyes.
Kinky Thoughts:
That’s debatable on if Zhou Qian will be doing the fucking.
Inside the treehouse, through a video call, Zhou Qian saw with his own eyes Yun Xiangrong and Gao Shan filling out their voting papers.
Both of them had written “Yes” on their papers.
Upon personally witnessing them place the scorecard into the sealed black box, Zhou Qian hung up the group chat with great satisfaction.
The treehouse returned to its quiet state.
Then Zhou Qian took out a blank scorecard and wrote five names on it, along with five scores.
Surprisingly, it turned out:
[Gao Shan: 0 points], [Yun Xiangrong: 10 points];
[Dong Xiang: 30 points], [Qi Liuxing: 30 points];
Lastly, [Zhou Qian: 30 points].
Next, Zhou Qian tapped on the touchscreen, lighting up Qi Liuxing’s avatar. But instead of initiating a private chat with Qi Liuxing, he continued to select Dong Xiang, initiating another three-person group chat.
Zhou Qian’s call request wasn’t immediately answered. It’s possible that the Dong Qi duo were privately chatting. He waited for 5 minutes before the video call was connected.
Upon realizing they were in group chat mode, just like the young couple, both Dong Xiang and Qi Liuxing looked very surprised. They had assumed Zhou Qian would chat with them separately, trying to sow discord and make them betray each other. Unexpectedly, Zhou Qian initiated a group chat.
The screen magnified their astonished expressions. Zhou Qian maintained a standard fake smile, waving at them and holding up his paper.
“…Did you understand what I said earlier? I’m giving each of you 30 points. The two of you are tied for first, and the last one will be Gao Shan with 0 points. I will get him eliminated.”
In front of their mobile screens, Zhu Qiang and Yu Xian kept exclaiming “Holy fuck” in disbelief.
“What does this mean? I don’t get it. Didn’t Qian Ge just about secure his victory after video chatting with the couple? What’s this performance for? Is he testing his teammates?”
“I don’t know. I don’t get it. But wait. The Goddess said once the scorecard enters the black box, the box will be sealed. This is the main reason the couple believes Qian Ge.”
“Right, Qian Ge already dropped the scorecard! His black box should have been sealed! How will he deceive Dong and Qi? He doesn’t know magic!”
Inside the game, Zhou Qian had no idea someone could see him or that his progress would influence someone else’s chance of winning 1 million yuan. He simply negotiated with the two through the screen, using his scorecard.
Dong Xiang, who was beaten badly by Li Dafu, undeniably hated Zhou Qian. His first response to Zhou Qian was, “Fuck off!”
“Fuck you, Zhou Qian! I don’t care about your tricks. I don’t care who you give high or low scores to! Xiao Qi, let’s not bother with these tactics. Just vote no!
“I’ll remind that couple later! Tell them never to trust Zhou Qian! My facial injuries are the best proof! We definitely won’t lose.”
Zhou Qian calmly responded, “Really? Don’t you want my special intel?”
Just as Dong Xiang was about to speak, Qi Liuxing, who had been silent all along, finally spoke. “Why did you… target Gao Shan? This is very strange…”
Zhou Qian simply said, “I don’t know about you two. But I’m from the Spring Hill Mental Asylum. So is Yun Xiangrong. To be blunt, she and I greenlit* Gao Shan.”
*(绿) It’s a slang term that basically means to cuckold someone.
Qi Liuxing: “…”
Dong Xiang looked stunned and then sneered maliciously.
Zhou Qian continued, “You saw it earlier, right? Before entering the treehouse, I spoke a few words to Gao Shan, which visibly upset him, and he wanted to hit me. I simply told him the truth.”
On the mobile screen, Yu Xian and Zhu Qiang were baffled.
Yu Xian: “No way, did Qian Ge really say something like that to Gao Shan?”
Zhu Qiang: “Probably not… No, definitely not! Their group chat seemed harmonious earlier!”
“So, Qian Ge is just bluffing Dong Xiang and Qi Liuxing.”
“Yep. But I really wonder what Zhou Qian said to make Gao Shan want to hit him, yet not turn them into enemies…”
Inside the game.
After some more dramatic discourse among the three, Zhou Qian said, “That’s the situation. Gao Shan knows that Yun Xiangrong greenlit him. And since Yun Xiangrong saw him wanting to hit me, she would guess what I told him. From her perspective, Gao Shan might betray her as well… But I’m the kind of person who dislikes trouble.”
“I’m giving each of you a score of 20. If your ranks are the same, then the type of votes will matter, leading you to betray each other. But instead of talking to the two of you one by one, I might as well just send Gao Shan away.”
At this point, looking at Dong Xiang, a submissive expression appeared on Zhou Qian’s face. “Dong Ge, I know we had some unpleasantness today. But to be fair, if you hadn’t stolen my invitation first, none of the subsequent events would’ve happened, right?”
“Li Da Fu was killed by me. You saw it clearly. That was my side mission. Now that the task is completed, of course I have obtained special intelligence. Think about it, you were the main contributor in killing Li Dafu. Are you really willing to miss out on this special piece of intelligence?”
Zhou Qian smiled helplessly and sincerely said, “Dong Ge, you’re Rank E and even have a Rank D Sword God to help you. I’m just Rank F, and I don’t have any skills. If you wanted to kill me, wouldn’t there be a thousand ways? Why let me die in this petty game?”
The Dong Qi duo were silent for a long time.
The first to relent was Qi Liuxing.
“It’s feasible. Neither of us will lose; plus, we can get additional intelligence. Moreover… you haven’t blackmailed us for coins or props. However—”
Looking at Zhou Qian, Qi Liuxing said, “Open the system trading window, and we’ll trade under system supervision. I want to ensure that you’ll put that scoring paper of yours into…”
Before Qi Liuxing could finish, Zhou Qian had already placed the thin scoring paper into the black box.
Seeing this, Yu Xian and Zhu Qiang were shocked.
Yu Xian: “Am I seeing things? Can Qian Ge really do magic?”
Zhu Qiang: “I have a vague feeling, as if I’m starting to understand something…”
Inside the game, Zhou Qian opened the system control panel and said to the two, “I’ve put the scoring paper in the black box in front of you. This is my sincerity. Now it’s your turn to cast a positive vote for me. As long as you both give me positive votes, I can provide you with special information about this instance.”
But Dong Xiang didn’t immediately agree.
He laughed, his eyes shifting from surprise to malice.
“Okay, Zhou Qian. I can give you a positive vote. However, just intelligence isn’t enough!”
“You started with 300 coins, right? Give 150 to me and Qi Liuxing each. Also, give us all the props you’ve acquired! We can proceed through the trading window!”
Upon hearing this, Zhou Qian looked anxious, displeased, and hesitant. He then said with a frown, “I don’t have 300 coins anymore, only 295. I can give them to you. But the props…”
Seeing Zhou Qian showing weakness, Dong Xiang finally vented some frustration with a delighted expression.
But the look he gave Zhou Qian remained malicious. “Killing Li Dafu wasn’t an easy task for you. You must have gotten valuable props! Hand them over! Or no deal!”
“Zhou Qian, you’re asking us now! Act like someone who’s begging! Look sincere! You said earlier that you’re in control of this game, quite capable, huh? Now, kneel. Hahaha…”
After that, Zhou Qian desperately pleaded through the screen, emphasizing his struggles as a new Rank F player, and it was hard for him to get props.
But as Dong Xiang pointed out, the passive one now was Zhou Qian.
He was like a fish on the chopping board, at the mercy of others.
In the end, Zhou Qian, with no other choice, lost 295 coins and all of his [Dalang, it’s medicine time.].
He was left penniless, without any props or skills.
Watching him, Dong Xiang laughed triumphantly.
How could a player like Zhou Qian, without skills, coins, or props, survive in the upcoming plot?
The trading line could directly grab items from a player’s bag and teleport them to another player.
Soon, the Dong Qi duo got the item information on their system panels.
Of course, when seeing the name of the medicine, both couldn’t help but grimace.
But in the end, the two happily divided the three pills.
Qi Liuxing gave two of the pills to Dong Xiang. “The name of this medicine is a bit odd, but it’s useful. It can limit the NPC’s actions. My attack power is high, yours isn’t. You take two, I’ll keep one.”
“You keep all the coins!” Dong Xiang feigned generosity, giving all the coins to Qi Liuxing.
The two profited immensely, while Zhou Qian was left with nothing. His only gain was two more affirmative votes.
However, after a while, Zhou Qian received a notification on his system panel. Raising his wrist, he opened the message to see that Qi Liuxing had transferred 500 gold coins to him, along with a note: [I don’t like taking advantage of others. All I want is to ensure I’m not eliminated. I’m returning the money to you. The extra is for the items we bought from you.]
Upon seeing the message, Zhou Qian didn’t say much. Through a video call, he watched as Qi Liuxing and Dong Xiang each placed an affirmative vote into the ballot box. He took a deep breath and thanked both of them before ending the call.
As soon as the video call ended, Zhou Qian’s obsequiousness and feigned smile vanished. Instead, his face appeared colder, with eyes that shone subtly.
Nothing happened for a long time. It was only after 10 minutes that the voice of the Goddess echoed in everyone’s ears, “There are only 10 minutes left to score. Li Dafu, please hurry up.”
Hurry up and score? What? Li Dafu, who is actually Zhou Qian, hasn’t scored yet?
This was the question in everyone’s mind, except Zhou Qian’s.
With a playful glint in his eyes, Zhou Qian tapped the screen, lighting up the portraits of Qi Liuxing, Dong Xiang, Yun Xiaorong, and Gao Shan. He then made a call. Four shocked faces appeared on the screen, all eyes on Zhou Qian as he showed three pieces of scoring paper to the camera.
On the first sheet, two young couples and Zhou Qian each had 30 points, Qi Liuxing 10 points, and Dong Xiang 0.
On the second, Qi Liuxing, Dong Xiang, and Zhou Qian each had 30 points, Yun Xiaorong 10, and Gao Shan 0.
These were the scores everyone had just seen Zhou Qian put into the ballot box.
The last sheet was blank.
Holding it up, Zhou Qian grinned at the camera. “Let me introduce myself. I’m good at card games and have a fast hand, so I’m a master of deception. When you thought I put the score sheet into the box, I actually didn’t. You can think of it as a bit of magic.”
Seeing their stunned expressions, Zhou Qian’s smile grew wider. “The Goddess never specified the order for placing the score and vote sheets. This gives me a chance to regain control.”
“All four of you gave me affirmative votes, but I haven’t scored yet. Even if I don’t score, you’ve already accepted whatever result I give. Thank you for trusting me!”
With a mischievous smile, Zhou Qian continued, “So now… how should I distribute these 100 points? Let’s go back to the beginning. Bribe me, with game gold or valuable items. I’m open to offers. The game has only 10 minutes left. Please hurry.”
With that, Zhou Qian ended the video.
Watching from their mobile screens, Yu Xian and Zhu Qiang were stunned for a good ten seconds.
“Fuck, Qian Ge is brilliant.”
“He’s more than that! If it were me, I’d have panicked when everyone decided to give negative votes. Apart from waiting for the end, what else could I do?” the other replied.
“Qian Ge not only remained calm but also quickly thought of a solution to make everyone betray one another. He’s something else!”
“Yeah, who would have thought that his real goal wasn’t just to survive but also to extort gold coins and items!”
Being able to quickly assess the personalities and relationships of four teammates, finding the gaps to exploit; crafting a lie about possessing special information, using it to create a prisoner’s dilemma; and finally leveraging his items, gold coins, and supposed information to make one group betray another for scores and survive.
From the Yu Zhu duo, this was already a very high-end strategy. In the face of extreme adversity, Zhou Qian’s wit, courage, observational skills, and willingness to act humbly made all the difference.
Such advanced gameplay was just used by Zhou Qian as a very deceptive feint…
This was almost unbelievable.
Trade everything for one life? Zhou Qian would not be willing.
A Rank F player, without skills, lacking gold, and missing props…
Then he would find a way to earn everything he lacks.
Stuck in the most unfavorable passive situation?
He would take control over everyone from the highest point.
Yu Xian: “His strategies are so deep. When he went to talk privately with Gao Shan and provoked him, he had already planned out every step… I just wonder what he said at that time.”
Zhu Qiang: “Shh, look, someone is calling him!”
The author has something to say:
The origin of this game is based on a classic economic game theory model called [Pirate Game]. Pirates divide 100 coins, and if the proposal made by one of them is not satisfactory to the other pirates, he will be thrown into the sea to feed sharks. For details, you can search it on Baidu.
However, I’ve made significant changes here, introducing settings like tree houses, dealing with tied votes, and the consequence of receiving a negative vote leading to death, etc. So essentially, it’s entirely different now.
Kinky Thoughts:
Further elaborating on the Pirate Game, you can go the Wikipedia or read below.
It’s a mathematical game:
There are five rational pirates (in strict order of seniority A, B, C, D and E) who found 100 gold coins. They must decide how to distribute them.
The pirate world’s rules of distribution say that the most senior pirate first proposes a plan of distribution. The pirates, including the proposer, then vote on whether to accept this distribution. If the majority accepts the plan, the coins are disbursed and the game ends. In case of a tie vote, the proposer has the casting vote. If the majority rejects the plan, the proposer is thrown overboard from the pirate ship and dies, and the next most senior pirate makes a new proposal to begin the system again. The process repeats until a plan is accepted or if there is one pirate left.
Pirates base their decisions on four factors. First of all, each pirate wants to survive. Second, given survival, each pirate wants to maximize the number of gold coins he receives. Third, each pirate would prefer to throw another overboard, if all other results would otherwise be equal. And finally, the pirates do not trust each other, and will neither make nor honor any promises between pirates apart from a proposed distribution plan that gives a whole number of gold coins to each pirate.
The results:
To increase the chance of their plan being accepted, one might expect that Pirate A will have to offer the other pirates most of the gold. However, this is far from the theoretical result. When each of the pirates votes, they will not just be thinking about the current proposal, but also other outcomes down the line. In addition, the order of seniority is known in advance so each of them can accurately predict how the others might vote in any scenario. This becomes apparent if we work backwards.
The final possible scenario would have all the pirates except D and E thrown overboard. Since D is senior to E, they have the casting vote; so, D would propose to keep 100 for themself and 0 for E.
If there are three left (C, D and E), C knows that D will offer E 0 in the next round; therefore, C has to offer E one coin in this round to win E’s vote. Therefore, when only three are left the allocation is C:99, D:0, E:1.
If B, C, D and E remain, B can offer 1 to D; because B has the casting vote, only D’s vote is required. Thus, B proposes B:99, C:0, D:1, E:0.
(In the previous round, one might consider proposing B:99, C:0, D:0, E:1, as E knows it won’t be possible to get more coins, if any, if E throws B overboard. But, as each pirate is eager to throw the others overboard, E would prefer to kill B, to get the same amount of gold from C.)
With this knowledge, A can count on C and E’s support for the following allocation, which is the final solution:
A: 98 coins
B: 0 coins
C: 1 coin
D: 0 coins
E: 1 coin
(Note: A:98, B:0, C:0, D:1, E:1 or other variants are not good enough, as D would rather throw A overboard to get the same amount of gold from B.)
Teest and Old Hunter were sound asleep in the hunter’s cabin. Nol and the couple stood outside the igloo not far away. The undead didn’t need to sleep, and Nol still had to guard against possible attacks from the shadow wolf.
Rosen had mixed feelings.
As a police officer, he should stop the actions of those two. Liang Guanghui had completely lost his dangerousness and didn’t even meet the criteria for emergency shooting.
But Rosen himself was powerless—he knew nothing about the external environment and didn’t know where to start.
Besides, there was no court or prison here. As long as Liang Guanghui believed that he wouldn’t commit a crime or kill, Rosen admitted he couldn’t obtain any effective testimonies.
Unable to provide a better solution, let alone Teest, he couldn’t even stop Nol.
“That Teest is dangerous. A normal person couldn’t possibly know about torture.” Rosen sighed. “Are you… really sure you want to go with him?”
Nol sat on a stump. Different from before, his breath now had a white mist.
“I am the producer of ‘Tahe World’, and I know everything up to two hundred years ago,” Nol responded somewhat evasively.
There was a moment of silence as Rosen and Julie exchanged a quick glance.
As Nol guessed, these two well-behaved neighbors didn’t show any anger. Rosen’s face read “sure enough “, while Julie had “no surprise there” on her forehead.
They even looked a bit pleasantly surprised.
After a while, Rosen exhaled heavily. “I’d guessed a bit. Your behavior is nothing like an ordinary employee’s. Brother, to be honest, your mind is priceless.”
“We’ll keep it a secret. Even among neighbors, this news is not suitable for spreading… When some people get angry, they can do anything.”
Julie pondered, “But I also wonder, with such abilities, you could form a more suitable team. Why specifically Teest?”
Judging by Mr. Teest’s attitude, that guy definitely wouldn’t tolerate a third teammate.
“My game has become reality. This is definitely man-made, and I could be targeted at any time. Being my companion is extremely risky.” Nol laughed, causing white mist to expel, and watched as it dissipated in the cold night. “Both of you are smart and capable. There’s no need to force yourself to stay by my side.”
‘Makes sense,’ Rosen thought. It seemed they were destined not to go together. Not to mention they lost the bet with Teest, even without the bet, Nol had no intention of teaming up with them. After about ten seconds of silence, Rosen asked, “Is Teest really trustworthy?”
“Of course not. I don’t trust him, just as he doesn’t trust me. But we are system teammates, destined not to harm each other,” Nol calmly stated. “I know what you want to ask. Teest despises both the Temple of Life and the Eternal Church. He can’t wait for me to expose their secrets. He won’t hide anything about these two religions from me.”
“And I’m very aware that I’m not that charismatic. I can’t make someone I just met risk their life for me. His willingness to investigate the truth of the world with me means he has his own agenda… Which means we are the perfect teammates.”
Nol kept a crucial reason to himself.
Teest was right. He was indeed his only respite.
That Fallen Knight never judged Nol. Nol’s words, “I need you”, weren’t just for show—he really needed someone like that, especially under the current pressure.
As for what Teest wanted from him, Nol didn’t care. They could use each other to the fullest, and that was enough.
Nol couldn’t help but touch his chest.
To give a better burial, he created the [Ash Remnants], which ignited a hot blue flame. He then lit a similar flame in his heart. It gave him a body temperature close to a living person, accompanied by a burning pain with every heartbeat.
For long-term action with Teest, it was better to have body temperature. Teest didn’t like a touch that was too cold. At the same time, it was a reminder… Whether it was against the possible uncontrollable rage or the possibly uncontrollable attachment.
“…So, it’s not that I want to go with Teest,” Nol concluded. “We decided to move forward together.”
“That said, I think you trust him quite a bit.” Rosen massaged his temples, his round face full of resignation. With Nol’s words to this point, it wasn’t appropriate for them to question further. “Then I can only ask for some game information. The more the merrier, Julie and I will continue looking for the neighbors.”
Officer Luo didn’t say “all compatriots.” He, like Nol in the past, quickly made a choice between “neighbors with only one life” and “players with immortality”.
Nol smiled.
He stood up, took out a roll of parchment: “This is exactly what I wanted to say—I want to regroup ‘Joy Garden’.”
He casually threw it, and the parchment unrolled by itself, floating in the air.
Rosen took a light ball to see, and it turned out to be a hand-drawn map. It was so precise that it looked like a print, with the place names written neatly.
“Did you draw this? You must have a very good memory.” Rosen was amazed.
“After we leave here, we will split into two groups. The destination is the Black Forest, to the north of the Grape Collar. We will meet in the Red Mist Valley of the Black Forest,” Nol said nonchalantly, pointing to a spot on the map. “Teest and I will be responsible for diverting any Eternalists that may appear, taking the standard route. You two follow this mountain range—yes, this way. I’ll also inform Lynn about this later.”
“What’s there?” Dr. Zhu asked, looking at the cross marking the destination.
“A perfect stronghold. You’ll know when you get there,” Nol replied. “The main game storyline hasn’t been triggered, so it can’t be discovered. It will be our best shelter.”
The area near the Black Forest was deserted and infested with monsters, serving as a natural barrier, and it was also great for monsters to level up. Initially, Nol wanted to use it as a temporary shelter for the neighbors, but now it seemed to have a more suitable purpose.
Regular players mostly choose to rely on the Temple of Life. Criminals with unclear backgrounds like Liang Guanghui joined the Eternal Church instead.
With unclear situations, Nol didn’t want the neighbors to hastily get involved with the “gods”—especially since the neighbors might have turned into monsters and appearing casually could be dangerous.
He wanted to become a third force outside of “God” and “Demon King”.
After explaining, Nol rolled up the map and handed it to Rosen. “If you find more neighbors, remember to bring them there too.”
Rosen took the map and carefully placed it near his chest, saying, “Thank you.”
With a clearer goal in mind, the couple looked a bit brighter. Nol wasn’t surprised. For this unfortunate couple, perhaps everything that happened was a turn for the better.
A policeman and a doctor could surely handle most situations, perhaps even better suited for rescue than Nol himself. Either way, it was a good start.
“If you’re the creator of this game, you’re almost like the ‘Creator God’ of this world,” Rosen teased. “Are you going to tell Teest? Maybe he’ll treat you better.”
“He treats me quite well now.” Nol sidestepped the topic with ease.
If only he were really the Creator God, he could just wave his hand and send everyone back to Earth. But in reality, he could only wield his letter opener and randomly persecute some folks.
Speaking of which, Teest had seen the properties of the letter opener, and he could probably guess the close relationship between Nol and the system. But he probably wouldn’t think of the exaggerated concept of “Creator God”—after all, for this world, the “system” only appeared halfway through.
Since Teest didn’t ask directly, Nol didn’t intend to say.
…No, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to say. He just hoped Teest would maintain his current attitude.
If the Mad Monk truly despised anything close to “gods”, he might lose his last refuge.
Nol didn’t want to lose this companion yet.
……
Teest woke up.
He lay on the fur rug in front of the fireplace, warmed by the fire, almost stretching lazily on the floor.
With no cultists causing trouble, this mission finally felt a bit relaxed. Old Hunter had gone out, either for firewood or to check on his white wolf. In the spacious hunter’s cabin, there were only him and Nol left—
Nol was reading a book next to him, still engrossed, with a tall pile of manuscript paper beside him. Teest suspected he had used up all his paper. Considering they’d be working together for a long time, Teest didn’t mind keeping some manuscript paper handy.
Well, that’s decided then. Teest yawned again.
“Mr. Mage.”
Teest stretched out and playfully tugged at Nol’s ankle, which now felt warm. “Did you stay up all night again?”
“I’m thinking about how to safely destroy this place.” Nol looked down.
“If closing the instance is like what happened in the Three Forks Road Village, then we should be safe.” Teest, not quite ready to get up, turned to evenly warm himself by the fire. “But whether Old Hunter and the rest are safe, who knows? Maybe that headless girl will show up again.”
Nol nodded, picked up the letter opener, and examined it closely.
Seeing the glint of the letter opener, Teest slowly pulled his limbs back under the blanket and carefully pulled the furry blanket up to his chin.
Nol looked at him helplessly. He simply tore off the edge of his robe and wrapped the blade completely with the cloth strip. Only then did Teest stretch out his arm from under the blanket again, deliberately looking away as if to hide his earlier fear.
“Use it to stab Old Hunter, and maybe we can get out.” Teest coughed twice, deliberately changing the subject.
“No, if a hunter breaks off from the instance, it’s probably similar to death. The instance will look for a new hunter,” Nol explained softly. “My current thought is to wound the shadow wolf. It is the key to this instance. But…”
“But you can’t guarantee the safety of the instance’s NPC.” Teest understood.
“Mm, it’s challenging,” a voice said.
In the blink of an eye, Teest jumped up, holding the “Betrayer” tightly in his hand. Nol frowned at the source of the voice—on the top of the magic staff, a blue vertical eye was rolling around.
Teest narrowed his eyes. Compared to Nol’s eyes, the black candle’s blue eyes were more like murky seawater. He didn’t like it very much.
“There’s no need to get excited. I just had a long, long sleep. Who knew this mage could summon a dragon boss? Even ants know that Subelbot hates humans. What kind of leverage do you have on it?”
The black candle began to chatter like a machine gun, complaining like an old man in the market, completely dropping its pretentious tone when it first woke up.
“Summoning that thing consumes a lot of magic. If it wasn’t for me using my reserve, you and your unlucky notes would have been scrapped… You should really thank me, ouch.”
“As soon as I woke up, you two sneaked into this ghost of a place again. God, why is my life so miserable…”
“Who are you?” Nol, annoyed by its rambling, interrupted. “What’s your relationship with the Eternal Church?”
The candle shut up—even though Nol hadn’t yet found its mouth. It rotated its eye, taking a hard look at Nol.
“My god, are you blind?” it exclaimed a few seconds later. “I am the stub of a candle!”
Nol took a deep breath, yanked the candle off the staff, opened the window, and wound up to throw it.
“No, no, no! I was wrong, I’m sorry!” the candle screamed. “I don’t even know who I am! It’s so embarrassing to admit!”
Teest looked at it speechlessly for a moment. He put away the knife and moved back to the fireplace. “What do you mean, ‘you don’t know who you are’?”
“I don’t know my name, just that!”
After being placed back on the staff, the black candle clumsily opened its candle tears and clung to the top of the staff like an octopus. “Don’t get me wrong; my other memories are intact. I know a lot, like the weaknesses of most monsters—the vast majority!”
It said it with a touch of pride as its vertical eye intently watched the two.
Teest: “…”
Nol: “…”
This sounded familiar. Could this guy be a colleague from the game company? But Nol really couldn’t remember any colleague being this annoying.
So he continued to ask, “How are you related to the Eternal Church?”
“They are shameless thieves! I am innocent!” the candle cursed. “Those bastards broke me off the candlestick while I was sleeping and then fed me with impure death energy. Ugh, even dogs wouldn’t eat it—”
“Where were you before? I mean, when you first became conscious… My earliest memory is on ‘Earth’,” Nol carefully threw out the code.
The black candle was silent.
“Your questions are really strange.”
After a while, it slowly said, “It’s not like we’re dating. Why are you in such a hurry to ask someone’s private matters? ‘Earth’? Never heard of it. Which remote corner is that?”
Nol decisively pulled out his wedding ring. “Married, thank you. Happily, I might add. If you keep dodging the topic, I’ll bury you in wolf dung.”
Teest, who was taking a sip of soup on the side, almost choked.
It seemed like this guy wasn’t a colleague. Nol’s remaining goodwill was about to run out. If the candle wasn’t a fellow from Earth, then more urgent matters needed to be addressed.
“Come on, repeat after me,” Nol said. “The Goddess of Life and the Eternal Son are trash.”
Having someone blaspheme so bluntly for the first time, the candle was shocked into a short, “Uh.”
Teest really choked this time. He banged on the table, coughing and laughing, tears almost coming out.
“Repeat,” Nol demanded. “We’ll talk about other things after repeating. If you can’t do that, there’s nothing for us to discuss.”
Next, he was about to find a base for the neighbors, and he certainly couldn’t have a strange follower by his side.
Anyway, the Eternal Son is undoubtedly trash, and the Goddess of Life was questionable. But if the Goddess was well-intentioned, she could tolerate such an offense.
“Goddess of Life, Tilia, is trash. Eternal Son, Anstis, trash. Is that enough? I’ve insulted them by their full names!”
The black candle finally settled down. “Now, can we finally discuss important matters?”
“First, thank you for providing me with the summoning method and magic power.”
Nol said politely as he sat back in his chair and placed the candle next to the soup bowl. “Second… since you claim to be knowledgeable, how much do you know about this instance?”
“Instance? Do you mean this space?” The black candle pondered for a moment. “If I’m not mistaken, it seems you want to save the people here…”
“It’s not ‘us’, it’s him,” Teest murmured.
“Don’t interrupt.” Nol stuffed a piece of cheese into Teest’s mouth and turned his gaze back to the candle. “… Go on.”
“You can save them,” the candle said. “To my knowledge, there are two ways to destroy such a special space.”
“The first is for the rules to close the space actively. In this case, all intelligent life within the space will be wiped out, and no one can escape.”
…Just like the situation in the novice village. Nol exchanged glances with Test, realizing the candle did have some insights.
“I guess what you’re looking for is the second method, artificial destruction.”
The candle spoke leisurely. “Find the ‘core’ of the special space and kill or destroy it—in this case, creatures living in the space for a long time will be safe. However, once they leave the special space, intelligent beings will lose all related memories.”
‘…Just like Mrs. Petty, who left the novice village,’ Nol thought.
Even if she was fortunate enough to survive from the headless woman, her memories would revert to those of “five-year-old Rebecca”. So far, everything the candle said was correct.
“In my opinion, being alive is good enough. Why be picky?” the black candle said. “If you think the shadow wolf is the key, try it. Maybe it will solve the problem.”
Teest tapped his spoon and nodded seriously. “Destroy the instance, save the people, everyone’s happy.”
“No.”
Nol said calmly.
“The survivors will find themselves waking up in a completely unfamiliar place, their appearance completely changed, and unknowingly losing important friends… I don’t like this outcome either.”
Teest shrugged nonchalantly and continued eating his soup.
Beside the soup bowl, the candle silently watched Nol. “…You are truly a capricious person.”
“Then you’ll have to put up with me, Candle,” Nol replied.
“Calling me ‘Candle’ is too crude,” The black candle said. “I’ve thought of several grandiose names for myself. You can call me Sexton or Sweenid…”
“These names are too long… How about ‘Kando*’?”
*Clarity: Compared to Sexton (赛克斯托恩) or Sweenid (斯威恩尼德) Kando (坎多) is much shorter… and it’s basically a homophone for candle (in English).
After thinking for a few seconds, Nol decisively said, “Yes, let’s call him Kando.”
To his surprise, the black candle didn’t make a fuss. It was silent for a long time, and its blue vertical eye slightly curved. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Nol felt that its presence seemed stronger than before, less out of place.
“Thank you for giving me a name,” the black candle said cheerfully. “I really—really like it.”
The author has something to say:
The second supporting character makes its appearance!
Nol, on the path to becoming the head of an evil organization (?)
The moment this was mentioned, everyone was tense. The word ‘death’ was too distant for the children, let alone the scattering of their souls.
“In the early stages of life, any species is at its most vulnerable. This is especially true for us, the Tianxiu people.”
“Because our souls are reincarnated, the loss of any soul is an irreversible loss for the entire tribe. To maintain our population, every adult Tianxiu will spare no effort to protect the lives of the young. As fledglings, you must always remember that nothing is more precious than your life. Always prioritize self-protection. When in danger, the primary choice is to flee. Never be reckless or try to show off your strength. Do you understand?” Zhi Shang advised solemnly.
A sense of purpose filled the hearts of every student present. For the first time, they realized how important it was to protect themselves.
“So, what are the lives of people from other planets like, those who don’t have souls and reincarnation?”
“That’s a good question,” praised Zhi Shang. “Every species has its unique way of reproducing. Take, for example, the beings from the nearby planet Wolfsbane.” He adjusted a projection device, and a three-dimensional image of a Wolfsbane inhabitant appeared.
“The children of the Wolfsbane people are entirely beastly. Compared to other species’ young, Wolfsbane children born in a wild state have stronger survival abilities, but their period of higher intelligence comes a bit later. Over their childhood, they gradually master the ability to transform. By adolescence, they can effortlessly switch between their two forms. Their average lifespan is between two to three hundred years, with their prime lasting about 97% of their life. Just like their prepubescent stage, during their brief old age, they can exist only in their beast form, and then they die.”
“When a Wolfsbane dies, others will return their bodies to the earth. Interestingly, even though they are carnivores, they have a stronger belief in the earth than any other race. The food they rely on comes from the planet, and in death, they become nutrients to nourish the soil in return. This is a tribe filled with wild instincts, who love nature, value freedom, and now, they are our vassals.”
“What does ‘vassal’ mean?”
“It means a tribe that has been defeated in war and has chosen to surrender. Every year they present tribute to signify their subjugation. There are six such nations in this galaxy.”
The students exclaimed in surprise. “Are we really that strong?”
Zhi Shang smiled. “You’ll find out when you become adults and get the opportunity to travel to other planets. The differences between us and other species are not just in the way we reproduce.”
The students listened with rapt attention. “Are there other ways of reproducing?”
“Yes, there are.” Zhi Shang clicked the remote, and the holographic projection changed. “This is a human from Earth, quite far from us. They are born in this small baby form.”
An image of a human baby crawling in mid-air was shown, occasionally trying to stand, falling, and trying again.
“Wow, that’s so cute!” many female students couldn’t help but exclaim.
“Human babies are born with no memory or survival skills, which means they have to learn as much as they can in the shortest amount of time. From basic walking, eating, speaking to self-protection, all these skills must be acquired.”
“Isn’t that exhausting?”
“It is, but it’s also fulfilling. We Tianxiu might never truly understand the joy they call ‘childhood’.”
The baby eventually stood up after multiple attempts and started walking, running, jumping without any assistance, transitioning into a form resembling a young Tianxiu.
“What you’re seeing now is a human teenager, about fifteen or sixteen years old. They have a standardized age of adulthood, typically eighteen, though it may vary. Crossing this age indicates that one is an adult, regardless of their mental maturity.”
“Upon reaching adulthood, humans can legally mate and reproduce. Most countries practice monogamy, but their marital systems are not as steadfast as the Tianxiu’s and can be dissolved anytime.”
The projection continued, quickly showing the students the cycle of a human’s life: adulthood, partnership, reproduction, aging, and finally death, ending in ashes.
“It’s truly incredible.” They were shocked upon learning for the first time that in the vast universe, there existed species that lived in such a form.
“Earthlings have a much shorter lifespan compared to us. Because they reproduce sexually, everyone has a family. In the language of Earth, these family members are called father, mother, brother, sister…”
The students also unconsciously murmured these unfamiliar words, finding them surprisingly easy to pronounce.
“The people of Tianxiu don’t have such a large family system as Earthlings, and there’s no blood relation. However, we can also have family,” he said with a smile, looking at Yao Tai. “A’Yao is my family. In the future, you too will have families of your own.”
“But we don’t have brothers or sisters…”
Zhi Shang thought for a moment. “Has anyone ever wondered, since we are transformed from souls, where our names come from?”
Everyone realized they had never thought about this question and were completely clueless.
“The answer lies in the energy chambers. After each soul returns, we place them in sequence. Each chamber has its surname, and there’s a fixed order for given names. By combining the two, we get everyone’s current names.”
Realization dawned on everyone.
“So… I’ve secretly thought this way. Those who slumber and awaken in the same energy chamber as us, sharing the same surname, aren’t they our siblings?”
“Ah,” many had a sudden epiphany, “Without even realizing, we have so many family members. Doctor, may I take a look at the energy chamber where I was placed?”
“Of course.” Zhi Shang smiled. “You can search for your surnames on the panel to my right and find your respective chambers there.”
Excited, the students rushed to the panel. Ling Xiao, with his sharp eyes, quickly found his family’s section. Following the signs, he realized the hall was even more vast than he had imagined. All the staff members he encountered were using small vehicles to move around, indicating the vast expanse of the place.
“Ling, Ling, Ling…” He searched among the chambers until he found his family’s chamber.
“This is where I woke up…” He touched the chamber’s seal, feeling a deep sense of connection.
Names of those who had awakened from this chamber were densely recorded on its side. Ling Xiao’s name was clearly at the end. Those before him were his ancestors.
“Ling Yang, Ling Lang, Ling Daoxi… I wonder if they’re still alive,” Ling Xiao muttered.
The names of souls currently in stasis stood out. Ling Xiao couldn’t help but read one out loud. “Ling, Xiao, Lu. You must be my younger brother…”
He found the word, which required the tip of his tongue to come in contact with his teeth twice to pronounce, very endearing. He repeated it clearly, “Brother, brother, I too now have a family.”
He carefully leaned onto the sealed chamber, pressing his ear against it, hoping to hear a heartbeat inside. “I hope you wake up soon…”
Everything around him became quiet, leaving only the rhythmic sound of heartbeats. Ling Xiao closed his eyes, looking so peaceful, as if asleep.
After what felt like a long time, Ling Xiao slowly opened his eyes to see a complicated character in his vision. It took a moment for the image to become clear, revealing the character ‘Ying’.
In his groggy state, Ling Xiao felt that the character looked familiar. He seemed to have seen it somewhere before.
Glancing at his chamber’s “Ling” and then at the neighboring “Ying”, he jumped back half a meter when he caught sight of Ying Feng standing there. How long had he been there? Out of the corner of his eye, he then noticed Ying Feng. He wasn’t sure when Ying Feng had started standing there. Could it be…?
Thinking of his childish behavior just now, Ling Xiao wished he could scoop a ladle of water from the purification pool and pour it over himself, hoping to erase the other’s memory of the incident.
“Why are you here?” Ling Xiao asked, defensively.
Ying Feng gave him a look as if he were crazy, walked straight to the neighboring chamber, which had a soul sleeping inside named Ying Zheng.
Ling Xiao quickly put two and two together, realizing why the character looked familiar. The chamber next to his belonged to Ying Feng’s family. Looking at the distance between the two chambers, not even a meter apart, it was almost like sharing a bed. Had he and Ying Feng been neighbors for the past decade or two during their slumber?
Ying Feng ignored Ling Xiao, who was glaring at him from the side, and mimicked his previous action by raising his right hand, letting it hover in the air. Ling Xiao, for some inexplicable reason, began to feel nervous, swallowing unconsciously. Could he also sense that peculiar feeling?
Neither of them made a sound, and the atmosphere felt as if it had frozen over.
A voice broke the silence. “Huh? You two are here too?”
Ling Xiao, as if suddenly awakened, turned his head to look. “Why are you here?”
The newcomer was Ping Zong. “I’m in this section too.” He pointed to a big character “Ping” next to him, which was just across the aisle from Ling Xiao. “Seems like we were staying close by all along.”
“Yes.” Ling Xiao glanced at Ying Feng, who was still in the same position, motionless. “I wonder what criteria they used to assign these spots.”
“It must be based on pronunciation. Haven’t you noticed? ‘Ling’, ‘Ying’, and ‘Ping’—their pronunciations are all quite similar?”
After some contemplation, Ling Xiao realized it was true. He quickly looked to his left. “It seems so. On my side, it’s ‘Ming’.”
“My neighbor’s is ‘Jing’…and then there’s ‘Bing’.”
The two of them found a new point of interest. They went from one compartment to another, calling out surnames. The previously quiet hall was suddenly filled with their cheerful shouts.
“It’s too noisy,” Ling Xiao heard Ying Feng mutter as he returned to where he started.
Just as Ling Xiao was about to retort, a piercing alarm sounded overhead, one sharp siren after another.
“What’s happening?” Ling Xiao became alert.
“Let’s gather first and then discuss!” Ping Zong was already sprinting toward the control center. Ling Xiao followed closely, but halfway there, he glanced back and noticed that Ying Feng wasn’t following.
He hesitated, slowing down unconsciously. Ping Zong noticed his hesitation. “What’s wrong?”
Ling Xiao clenched his fist. “You go on ahead; I’ll catch up soon!”
“Hey!” Ping Zong tried to call him back, but Ling Xiao had already turned and was sprinting back the way they came, leaving only a blurry silhouette for Ping Zong to see.
With no other option, Ping Zong hurried to the main control area, finally finding relief upon locating Lan Sheng.
“What’s going on?”
Lan Sheng, who had arrived earlier and had some information, replied, “Astronomical warning. A nearby asteroid has unexpectedly disintegrated. It’s predicted that meteors might fall in this vicinity.”
While asteroid disintegration was a common event here, Ping Zong noticed that despite the continuous alarms, all staff were working in an orderly manner with no sign of panic.
The energy storage management panel was quickly switched to a large astronomical monitoring screen. Complex numbers and symbols flickered rapidly on the projection. Lan Sheng and the others didn’t understand it, but they knew the most important structure of Tianxiu displayed at the center of the screen was the Soul Lighthouse.
Security staff began directing students to safe areas, and everyone was anxious, asking the adults questions.
“What exactly is happening?”
“Is this place going to be hit by a meteor?”
“Are we in danger?”
Staff tried to calm the students while maintaining order. “Don’t worry; it’s just a minor incident. The base can ensure everyone’s safety.”
Ping Zong struggled to get to the front of the crowd.
We have one… no, two students who haven’t returned.”
His words caught the attention of the staff. “Where are they?”
“They were last seen in Section G3.”
The staff member quickly relayed this information to a colleague over a communicator. After a brief conversation, he reassured Ping Zong, “Don’t worry, we’ve dispatched staff to that area to search for them. We’ll ensure the safety of every student!”
Deng Po’s uncle was the son born to Deng Po’s grandfather in his later years. His upbringing was similar to Deng Po’s, and he was even more cherished than Deng Po. Even Deng Po’s father would always yield to his younger brother. A few years ago, Deng Po’s uncle met a girl who was extremely beautiful. After falling in love at first sight, he ardently pursued her for several months. Eventually, he won her heart. However, the Deng family looked down upon the girl because she came from a humble background and had a low educational level. They initially disapproved of the marriage. In the end, it was only after Deng Po’s uncle pleaded, played stubborn, and argued that the grandfather gave his consent. After the Deng family’s compromise, they arranged for the girl to work as an administrator in the local library. This job was relaxed and dignified, and no one could find fault with it, so everyone was happy with the outcome.
Logically speaking, since Deng Po’s uncle had put in so much effort into securing this marriage, the couple should have cherished each other even more after marriage. But the opposite happened. They quarreled frequently. Deng Po’s uncle didn’t settle down after getting married; he continued to frequent entertainment venues, hang out with a group of friends, and even often went on outdoor adventures. He sought a life full of thrills and excitement and never wanted to stop. However, Deng Po’s aunt didn’t like socializing. She hadn’t lived in this social circle since she was young. After marriage, she felt restrained everywhere. It was said that the couple had a big fight after attending a banquet of Deng Po’s uncle’s friends. Deng Po’s uncle felt his wife never tried to fit into his circle, while his aunt felt her husband never understood her, always speaking in a condescending manner typical of the rich.
The incident occurred a week ago.
The couple had a fierce argument in the car. Deng Po’s aunt impulsively opened the door to get out. Even though the car wasn’t moving fast, Deng Po’s uncle had to brake abruptly. This led to another public quarrel, which even escalated to physical violence.
Afterward, the couple went into a cold war. The Deng family initially tried to mediate but later decided to let them be. However, after Deng Po’s uncle had a night of revelry with friends at a billiard club, he was informed by the police in the early hours that his wife was dead.
Deng Po’s aunt was murdered. Her heart was removed, and her head was smashed open, with brain matter flowing out. Strangely, her expression at death was peaceful, even happy, as if she were immersed in a beautiful dream.
What shattered Deng Po’s uncle was that the surveillance outside their home clearly showed that shortly after his wife returned home, he too entered the house, staying for about two hours before leaving.
Facing suspicion of murder, Deng Po’s uncle vehemently denied it. He did have a two- to three-hour gap before going to the club, which he explained was spent driving around the outskirts to calm down after their fight. However, that area was undergoing renovation, and there were no surveillance cameras or witnesses, so his claims couldn’t be verified.
The Deng family was running around for Deng Po’s uncle’s case, and they didn’t dare inform the grandfather, fearing he couldn’t handle the shock. Initially, Deng Po, who was studying abroad, wasn’t informed to prevent distractions. It was only when Deng Po decided to come home earlier that he learned of this incident.
Admittedly, this was a straightforward murder case. There was surveillance footage and undeniable evidence. The couple’s argument outside and even the instance when Deng Po’s uncle impulsively slapped his wife were witnessed by the public and caught on camera. The theory that their argument escalated into murder once they reached home had a clear motive.
However, Deng Po’s uncle never admitted to the murder, and his emotions seemed genuine. So, who would impersonate him and murder his wife?
Deng Po, along with his father and the Deng family’s lawyer, visited his uncle. The more he thought about it, the more things didn’t add up. At that time, Kan Chaosheng asked him for money, and Deng Po recalled an incident on the train. A sudden thought struck him: Could it be that his uncle was also under some illusion and mistakenly killed his aunt, thinking she was a monster?
Kan Chaosheng, although often silly and playful, did have reliable moments. After hearing the full story and thinking for a while, he said, “If someone can indeed use illusions to compel others to kill, then their mastery has reached an incredible level. Unless your uncle offended someone really powerful, it’s unlikely they would go to such extremes to target him.”
Upon hearing this, Deng Po clung to Kan Chaosheng as his last hope. “Future Master, you must save my uncle. I know him well. He might be impulsive, but he would never kill, let alone do something as horrific as gouging out a heart. Could someone be impersonating him to commit the crime? If you help me, I’ll not only become your loyal apprentice, but I’ll also serve as your personal ATM!”
Kan Chaosheng smirked. “Honestly, I just thought you had potential. Maybe I could train you to be as good as Dong Zhi. Don’t think too highly of yourself! The police are on the case. For such a severe crime, they will surely investigate thoroughly.”
Deng Po was close to tears. “The problem is the surveillance footage is crystal clear. Even facial recognition identifies my uncle. His fingerprints were all over the crime scene. While there are doubts, my uncle can’t explain his actions. Future Master, if you help us this time, not only will I become your apprentice, but my whole family will worship you like a bodhisattva. We promise to burn incense for you daily!”
Kan Chaosheng thought for a moment and finally said, “Alright, I’ll come with you and take a look.”
Deng Po was immensely grateful. Though Kan Chaosheng’s appearance and behavior didn’t inspire confidence, Deng Po was desperate. He’d tried lawyers, the police were investigating, and Kan Chaosheng was his last hope.
After Kan Chaosheng had dispatched some matters in Huai’an, he met with Deng Po, who arranged his accommodations and meals. Soon, a scene unfolded where Kan Chaosheng was feasting on a table full of dishes while Deng Po sat next to him, his face full of worry.
“You’ve been hungry for more than three days, haven’t you?” Deng Po remarked, observing Kan Chaosheng’s eating frenzy.
“No, I just had breakfast!” Kan Chaosheng responded, not even looking up from his food, and continued to play his video game.
Deng Po began to doubt his decision to ask for Kan Chaosheng’s assistance. However, after their meal, Kan Chaosheng finally asked Deng Po to detail the case. As Deng Po described the circumstances, especially the mysterious actions of his uncle during the crime, Kan Chaosheng interrupted, “Wait, your uncle doesn’t remember where he was when his wife was murdered?”
Deng Po sighed deeply, recounting his uncle’s claim of being in a daze, driving around the outskirts of the city, and then heading straight to a club.
Kan Chaosheng mused. “Sounds like an excuse someone would make after committing a crime.”
Deng Po looked desperate. “The police think the same, but my uncle refuses to admit to the killing. The only anomaly is that the clothes he was wearing when he came home, as captured on the surveillance, were the same as when he was arrested at the club. If he had committed the crime, there would be blood on his clothes. And why would he let himself be caught on camera outside his house?”
Kan Chaosheng: “Maybe he has two sets of the same clothes. And in the heat of the moment, he might not consider the surveillance cameras.”
Deng Po pleaded, “My mother thinks my uncle might be cursed, and she’s looking for spiritual masters. But I believe in you more than anyone. Please help, Future Master!”
Kan Chaosheng, finishing his food, lazily replied, “Investigation isn’t really my strong suit.” Seeing Deng Po’s disappointed face, he added, “But I can call someone who is skilled in that area.”
Deng Po, frustrated, responded, “Can you not keep me in suspense when you speak? It’s bad for the heart.”
Kan Chaosheng concluded. “Take me to meet your uncle, or at least let me visit the crime scene.”
Deng Po replied, “The crime scene will be sealed off, but I can arrange a meeting with my uncle with our lawyer present.”
Kan Chaosheng nodded. “Let’s see him first, and then decide on the next steps.”
When he returned home, his mother was hosting a distinguished guest. The guest was dressed in a Taoist robe and had an icy expression. He didn’t react upon seeing Deng Po, but his gaze settled on Kan Chaosheng behind Deng Po, almost fixating on him.
Deng Po’s mother didn’t notice this peculiarity. Seeing that Deng Po had brought a child home, she asked in surprise, “Is this your friend’s child?”
Instead of answering, Deng Po asked, “Mom, are you going to visit Uncle?”
His mother was reminded by his question. “Right, I was just about to invite Master Chang to see him. Oh, I forgot to introduce him to you. This Master Chang is highly skilled. I had to ask a favor from a friend to invite him over. Quickly, greet him properly!”
Deng Po observed that the man looked to be in his twenties, about his age, and seemed somewhat unusual. He found it hard to address him as “Master”.
If Kan Chaosheng knew that Deng Po’s mother had invited someone else for help, he would have been furious on any other day. But now, he was staring intently at Master Chang. Anyone familiar with him would notice that his hair was standing on end, clearly in a defensive and soon-to-be aggressive stance. This was a natural response when a creature senses a threat.
Deng Po finally noticed the intense gaze between the two, neither uttering a word. “Do you… know each other?”
Master Chang said coldly, “I don’t associate with demons.”
Kan Chaosheng instantly got angry. “Which mountain did you come from?”
Master Chang coldly snorted, “Being able to transform these days is quite commendable. However, your cultivation is lacking, and you’re young. Don’t you have any elders at home to guide you? How dare you brazenly parade around? Leave immediately, and I might pretend I didn’t see you. But if you cause any trouble, don’t blame me for turning you into snake soup!”
Nowadays, there were many frauds in the world, but Kan Chaosheng didn’t expect the Deng family to be so lucky as to actually find a formidable figure. He was offended by Master Chang’s words, especially when his true form was revealed. He was furious and lunged at Master Chang.
He was swift, but the man surnamed Chang was even faster. Before Kan Chaosheng could get close, Master Chang’s sword was already out of its sheath, its tip pointed at Kan Chaosheng’s forehead. In a fit of rage, Kan Chaosheng transformed into his true form, revealing a massive serpent head, roaring, and exuding a powerful aura.
Master Chang exclaimed, “Oh, it’s a young Jiao!”
He thought it was a python.
Although both were considered long serpentines, the difference was vast. A jiao was referred to as a “half-dragon” and was just one step away from becoming a true dragon.
Kan Chaosheng retorted. “’Young’ my ass. I’m much older than you, and I’ll beat you until you call me grandpa!”
Master Chang scoffed, “Typical lack of discipline. I’ve had snake soup before, but never Jiao soup. Time for a taste!”
As the two continued to clash, the room was in chaos. Thankfully, they managed not to break any furniture. Deng Po’s mother was terrified. If not for Deng Po’s support, she would’ve collapsed.
“Xiao Po, what have you brought into our house?!” her voice quivered.
Deng Po replied, “Mom, it’s just an illusion! This is the master I invited to help Uncle!”
“What illusion!” Master Chang sneered. “His true form is a demon!”
It was considered highly disrespectful to reveal a spirit’s true form in public. Kan Chaosheng was furious and attacked even more aggressively. However, he had grown lazy and complacent over the years, and to his shock, he wasn’t able to overpower the unknown man. At one point, he was even captured.
Holding him by the neck, Master Chang immobilized Kan Chaosheng, who could only shout in anger, “You bastard, at least tell me your name!”
“Why should I?” Master Chang then turned to Deng Po. “Did he do anything to you?”
Deng Po, in disbelief, replied, “No, no. I met him on the train. We even caught human traffickers together. I invited him to help. Can you please let him go?”
Master Chang stared at Kan Chaosheng. “So, since you’ve transformed, you haven’t done anything bad?”
“Damn your big-headed ghost!” Kan Chaosheng valued his pride the most. Never had he been handled and held onto like this before. He was on the verge of exploding in anger. If it weren’t for the fact that he couldn’t speak human language after turning into a cat, he would have already transformed and broken free from the person’s grip. “Release Grandpa quickly, or I’ll get someone to deal with you!”
Master Chang remained emotionless. “Bad attitude, no remorse. Guess I won’t let you go.”
He took out a talisman from his pocket, ready to stick it onto Kan Chaosheng, when unexpectedly, the phone in Kan Chaosheng’s pocket rang. Mr. Chang paused, reaching into Kan Chaosheng’s pocket to retrieve the phone.
“Didn’t your mother teach you not to touch other people’s things?!” Kan Chaosheng shouted angrily.
“Dong Zhi?” Mr. Chang glanced at the caller ID. “Your friend? What kind of creature is he?”
Kan Chaosheng’s spirit lifted. “You’d better let me go now, or you’ll regret it!”
After saying this, he suddenly found it oddly familiar. Isn’t this what villains in novels often say?
Deng Po, who once admired Kan Chaosheng, now looked doubtful. Deng’s mother was even more frightened. Seeing this, Kan Chaosheng felt utterly humiliated, fuming, and wanting to bite surname Chang on the spot.
That bastard didn’t hang up the phone but instead pressed the answer and speakerphone buttons.
“Hey, Chaosheng, you just messaged me, asking about my situation. My master told me to come over. Where are you? Give me a location, and I’ll come straight after I land.”
Hearing this familiar voice, Kan Chaosheng broke into tears. “Dong Zhi! Some bastard captured me, and he wants to eat me!”
He began to cry so heartbreakingly that even Deng Po’s mother, previously scared, couldn’t bear it. “Master, maybe you got it wrong. He’s just a kid. Why not let him go first?”
Chang Qing coldly responded, “If I let him go, he’ll run.”
The person on the phone clearly heard the commotion and asked worriedly, “Chaosheng? Where are you? What’s happening?”
Chang Qing asked, “Who are you to him?”
Dong Zhi was astonished. Even though Kan Chaosheng was willful, he was a 500-year-old Jiao. To be captured meant the opponent was formidable. Dong Zhi’s tone became more serious. “He’s my friend. Did he owe you money or ate your snacks? I can repay you. Let’s talk it out.”
Kan Chaosheng’s tears turned to anger. “Do you see me as such a glutton in your eyes?”
Dong Zhi replied, “…That’s not the point, is it?”
Kan Chaosheng challenged, “Then what is your point?”
Chang Qing interjected, “Sorry to interrupt your catch-up. Until I can verify he’s not dangerous, I’ll hold onto this creature. If you’re also a creature, I’d advise you not to come.”
Dong Zhi quickly responded, “What’s your name? Kan Chaosheng is from the Special Administration Bureau. He’s never done anything wrong. Please show mercy.”
Chang Qing frowned. “What’s the Special Administration Bureau?”
Dong Zhi was both amused and surprised. He hadn’t expected Kan Chaosheng to encounter a Daoist exorcist from legends who was hostile towards all demons and spirits. Dong Zhi had assumed that such extreme and stubborn individuals no longer existed in modern cities, especially in an era where even disciples from esteemed sects like Mount Longhu had joined the Special Administration Bureau.
However, since the other party didn’t even recognize the Special Administration Bureau, it was likely he was a disciple of some reclusive hermit. While there were very few people dedicated to secluded cultivation these days, they weren’t entirely extinct. As Dong Zhi climbed the ranks within the Special Administration Bureau, he now had the authority to slowly access some of the more general classified files. Within one of the bureau’s systems, records of practitioners who continue to live in seclusion without any specific school or lineage were stored. Yet, there were some individuals who hadn’t registered with the bureau. Perhaps they were hidden in plain sight within the city, or they might have spent their entire lives in remote mountain forests.
“Let me come over and explain. Please release Kan Chaosheng. I should be there by evening,” Dong Zhi said, checking his watch.
Chang Qing replied indifferently, “We’ll talk when you arrive.”
“Wait!” Kan Chaosheng shouted frantically. “Don’t hang up! I have more to say!”
He yelled at Dong Zhi, “Just come alone! Don’t tell the boss, or my salary will be docked!”
Dong Zhi: …How impressive that you can still think of this even after you’ve been subdued.
Chang Qing hung up the phone and slapped Kan Chaosheng on the back of his neck. Using some unknown technique, Kan Chaosheng felt as if half of his strength was sapped away, his whole body tingling and powerless. Forget using any magic; even his legs became limp and wobbly, making him walk as if he were drunk.
He was both shocked and enraged, roaring, “How dare you treat me like this! Our boss will not let you off!”
“Let him come then,” Chang Qing responded nonchalantly, not taking him seriously nor paying any mind to Dong Zhi over the phone. Turning to Deng Po’s mother, he said, “Let’s go and see this Deng Bin you spoke of.”
Deng Po’s mother timidly glanced at Kan Chaosheng. Chang Qing reassured her, “Don’t worry, he’s restrained by me now. He can’t do anything. I’ll keep him close to prevent him from escaping. Once his friend arrives, I’ll deal with them both.”
However, Deng Po seemed somewhat sympathetic. “Master, can we release him? He doesn’t seem like a bad person.”
Chang Qing replied, “Good and evil aren’t discerned by appearance. It’s precisely because he adopts the form of a child that he can easily deceive you all.”
Kan Chaosheng shot him a fierce glare, tears forming in his eyes, thinking, ‘Damn it, Dong Zhi, hurry up and come!’
Back when he first met Dong Zhi on the train, Kan Chaosheng saw him as a frail and ordinary human and scoffed at his desire to become an apprentice and join the Special Administration Bureau. Little did he know that the tables would turn and he’d one day hope for Dong Zhi to come to his rescue, much like a princess awaiting her knight.
Why wasn’t he waiting for Long Shen? Because if Long Shen were to come, while the problem might be resolved, his own fate would also be dire. Between being tortured by this bastard and being rescued by the boss, Kan Chaosheng shivered, realizing he’d rather face the former.
For humans, life might be expendable, but money isn’t.
Twin Rivers was dry and cold, and the inn was old. As soon as the door was closed, the windows rattled in the cold wind. The smell of dry straw and mud filled Shi Jingzhi’s nose, and the old blanket on his body felt heavy. He straightened his body, feeling as if he was about to be buried in the ground.
Yin Ci was lying quietly with his back to Shi Jingzhi, breathing evenly. The scene was no different from the previous days, but Shi Jingzhi felt as if there was a hot iron pressed against his body, making him uncomfortable no matter how he lay. With the bed given to the sick, the room was too small. Even if Shi Jingzhi slept upright, they couldn’t avoid touching each other. Yin Ci’s long hair seemed like a nuisance, but Shi Jingzhi didn’t dare touch it, wishing he could tie it up quietly.
Shi Zhongyu had left, and Shen Zhu was sleeping in the next room. The four members of the Kushan Sect were crammed into one room, so it made Shi Jingzhi feel guilty if he were to move out alone. He had thought everything was ready and just needed the right opportunity, but now that the opportunity had come, he had created a storm of troubles.
Sect Master Shi tossed and turned like a pancake, with half of his mind on the business at hand and the other half wandering. He wondered what the great Hundred-Year Project of the Imperial Preceptor was, and then he thought about what Yin Ci had experienced before he rescued him as the Little Mute.
Thinking about this, Shi Jingzhi didn’t even want to continue the cooperation. He just wanted Yin Ci to stand behind him safely, returning to the mysterious hermit he had always been, never to touch blood again. When he was three years old, it was fine, but now, when he thought of the madness of Yin Ci in the maple forest, Shi Jingzhi no longer thought of him as a formidable immortal but felt a heartache instead.
Shi Jingzhi’s emotions were more intense than ordinary people. After several hours, he still felt a tingling heat behind his head. He stared at the slight movements of Yin Ci’s body and felt an unnamed depression—
Seeing his embarrassing state, Yin Ci didn’t react at all, and Shi Jingzhi couldn’t help but suppress his emotions. Otherwise, he might turn into a pancake in the middle of the night.
Although he was good at suppressing desires, he wasn’t good at handling admiration.
In the end, Shi Jingzhi couldn’t bear it any longer, got up, and went to the courtyard to admire the moon. The moon was hidden by dark clouds, so he admired the clouds instead, which was fine.
The population of Twin Rivers wasn’t dense, and there were no idle people wandering around at midnight. The courtyard was as quiet as Shi Jingzhi had expected.
As soon as he calmed down, he ran into Shen Zhu in the courtyard.
The sparrow demons attracted attention during the day, so she had to take care of them at night. Shen Zhu was busy feeding those lively sparrows. At night, the sparrows were drowsy and ate sleepily, staggering around as if the millet was soaked in wine before she fed them.
Seeing Shi Jingzhi come out, Shen Zhu nodded to him and said casually, “My Lord.”
Shi Jingzhi greeted her weakly, “Shen Zhu.”
Shen Zhu wasn’t Shi Jingzhi’s die-hard loyalist, and although there was still a difference in status, her attitude toward Shi Jingzhi wasn’t the usual “loyalty”. No one else was around, and her attitude was quite casual. “Regarding Yin Ci, I couldn’t find the truth. Please forgive me… He conceals his past very skillfully. If you can, could you tell me about his origins?”
She seemed to have a magical ability to always bring up sensitive topics.
Shi Jingzhi snorted ambiguously. “That’s his private matter, and I’m not going to say… Anyway, don’t mind. It’s not a matter of your abilities.”
Yin Ci was an old slicker who had lived for hundreds of years, while Shen Zhu was in her twenties. If she could easily find out about Yin Ci’s background, Yin Ci would have been captured by the Immortal Assembly as a rare and strange beast long ago.
Indeed, Shen Zhu didn’t really care about Yin Ci. She casually sprinkled some millet into the mud, saying, “It’s a pity. I delayed a few days specifically, but I missed the chance to meet Senior Chen.”
“I’ve heard some clues about the things you want to know,” Shi Jingzhi said. “The phenomenon you discovered, Senior Chen also noticed, and he called it ‘Heaven’s Displeasure’.”
Shen Zhu let out a cold snort, showing disgust at those two words. She lowered her gaze and said, “My Lord, you are considerate.”
Shi Jingzhi looked at her for a while, appearing a bit downcast, then he forced himself to perk up and asked, “Miss Shen has been investigating the Immortal Assembly for a long time. Have you found any information related to the ‘Hundred-Year Project’ or the ‘Children of Desire’?”
“I haven’t, but on this trip to the Ling Sect, I have other matters to investigate. Since your disciple already knows…”
“Since I know what?”
A gentle voice interrupted them.
Shi Jingzhi looked at her for a while, feeling somewhat guilty for no reason. He had never realized that being alive could be so thrilling and exciting. He felt a small explosion within himself, and the hairs on his arms stood up. “A’Ci, you’re awake?”
Yin Ci’s gaze flickered, and he firmly ignored the question. Leaning against the door panel, he asked directly, “What’s the ‘Hundred-Year Project,’ and what are the ‘Children of Desire’? We’ve been cooperating now, but you haven’t told me about them.”
Judging from his tone, Yin Ci seemed to have returned to his casual and carefree demeanor. If he didn’t stare at Shen Zhu so cautiously, he would look even more like his old self.
Shi Jingzhi understood his hidden meaning and quickly spoke. “Miss Shen and I share the same interests, so she can be trusted.”
Then he heaved a sigh and gave a brief introduction to his subordinate.
Shen Zhu had deep-seated animosity towards the Immortal Assembly, but when Shi Jingzhi approached her, it had nothing to do with her personal feelings. He saw a strong determination in her—a reliable assistant with a clear purpose was much better than a foolish person obsessed with fame and fortune.
Similar to the Taiheng Sect, the Yueshui Pavilion had backing from the imperial court, and its branch halls were spread throughout Great Yun.
It was divided into three departments: Heaven, Earth, and Humanity, and it didn’t solely focus on collecting information in the martial world. The “Humanity Department” was responsible for investigating martial arts anecdotes and folk stories, as well as observing public sentiment. They were also willing to take on investigative tasks for others. The “Earth Department” collected agricultural and weaving techniques and searched for new crops, livestock, and even mineral deposits. The “Heaven Department” had the fewest members, and they were all dreamers and eccentrics. Regardless of whether unsolved mysteries had any practical significance, they would explore them.
Although the “Heaven Department” occasionally made earth-shattering discoveries, ninety percent of its members usually achieved nothing in their lifetimes. They had to travel to the most dangerous places, enduring hardships that ordinary people wouldn’t bear. In addition to having the highest authority to access information in the Yueshui Pavilion, the “Heaven Department” was the most thankless department, and its entrance requirements were extremely high.
Shen Zhu was one of the members of the “Heaven Department”. Being able to enter the lofty “Heaven Department” as a woman meant she had an extraordinary dedication that might even get her a painful beating from the Sword of Compassion.
Yin Ci mumbled, “Interesting.”
Along the way, he hadn’t seen such a fuel-efficient lamp* around the Kushan Sect.
*Metaphor referring to someone who’s easy to deal with.
Shen Zhu was quick-witted. Seeing that Yin Ci didn’t react like an ordinary person would, she changed her tone, dropping the nonchalant attitude she had when they first met and becoming more sincere. “I’ve been investigating the Immortal Assembly for a long time, and I inevitably followed some suspicious clues. When the Sect Master wants to find the method of immortality, we split into two groups. I provide him with stories around immorality, and he gives me tales of immortals and Buddhas. We each get what we need.”
Yin Ci understood.
Shi Jingzhi didn’t intend to hide anything anymore. He wanted to share all the information with Yin Ci. Investigating the flesh idol just happened to overlap subtly with what Shen Zhu was looking into. Perhaps they could find some useful clues. After all, in the eyes of mortals, the members of the Immortal Assembly were no different from half-immortals, and they were closely related to legends of immortals.
The Immortal Assembly was both an event held every ten years in Yidu and the managing organization of imperial shrines across various regions. On the surface, every ten years, it would invite a group of talented people or supernatural beings to join, offer immortal wine to win their hearts, and hold fake ceremonies and festivals. In recent decades, the Imperial Preceptor line had lost the emperor’s favor, and the Immortal Assembly no longer held grand ceremonies, reflecting their current lowly status*.
*Behave oneself by tucking one’s tail between one’s legs (夹紧尾巴做人) Idiom referring to being timid or submissive, often in the face of authority or adversity, often to avoid attracting attention or causing trouble.
Thus, Yin Ci had little interest and didn’t continue the investigation. As the leader of the Immortal Assembly, the Imperial Preceptor was still a mortal with a limited lifespan, and dying was inevitable and useless to him. Now, with the Goddess of Yuanxian Village in front and the flesh idol of the Imperial Celestial behind, with such huge secrets hidden in the Immortal Assembly, he needed to pick up this matter and investigate it thoroughly.
Shen Zhu wasn’t as simple as she seemed, so it was difficult to keep an eye on her. Yin Ci pondered for a moment and said, “The time and place are not suitable. Since the young lady wants to act with us, let’s find a quiet place, and you can explain everything in detail.”
…After speaking, Yin Ci felt a little uneasy in his heart.
In the past, he wouldn’t have cared if it was Shen Zhu or Shen Mo. Shi Jingzhi had chosen his own people, and Yin Ci couldn’t be bothered. If there were problems, he could just take Shi Jingzhi away. But now, he had developed an intense suspicion and was almost tempted to investigate Shen Zhu’s ancestry for three generations.
Shi Jingzhi couldn’t resist his feelings for the young bird, and his desires were not like those of an ordinary person. Yin Ci thought it was just a temporary infatuation. Shi Jingzhi was only three years old when his addiction was set, so it was impossible for his original desire to have anything to do with romance. Now that there were life and death matters at hand, after this momentary infatuation passed, Shi Jingzhi would come to his senses.
So Yin Ci considered his own problem more complicated. He had always been a clever moth, seeking warmth without getting burned. But now, his wings had accidentally caught fire, and the smoke was making him a little dizzy.
However, he couldn’t just let it go.
Yin Ci had indeed been the leader of a demonic sect, but he still cared about his reputation. So he put on an air of composure and said, “We might have to hurry on our journey next, so it’s best to rest for now.”
“So, was it me who woke you up, A’Ci?” Shi Jingzhi’s eyes wandered on his face, asking with persistence and caution.
Yin Ci: “…” After discussing so many serious matters, this kid hadn’t forgotten about the neglected topic.
Yin Ci glanced at Shen Zhu beside him and said with a smile, “You couldn’t sleep, with all that tossing and turning. Does Shizun want to hear about it?”
Shi Jingzhi stood still, tongue-tied, and his whole face turned red, as if he had been steamed by the night.
“It’s just some trivial matter. Don’t take it to heart, Shizun.” Yin Ci added with a smile.
Since Shi Jingzhi had already made up his mind not to treat him as his son, there was no reason not to tease him. If he tried to cover it up, it would be more troublesome in the future. Shi Jingzhi’s control had just broken, and his emotions were unstable. By openly addressing the issue, the subtle feelings would naturally dissipate.
Having convinced himself of this, Yin Ci turned around leisurely, leaving Sect Master Shi with an innocent back.
Near Yidu.
Shi Zhongyu returned with injuries, almost exhausting the Arrow Horse by the time she arrived at the headquarters of the Taiheng Sect. When she returned, it was still dark.
The room of the sect leader was brightly lit, and Sect Master Qi was still lying sick in bed, his pale face now tinged with a deathly gray. He had a high fever, and his once robust body had shrunk to a mere skeleton.
Jin Lan held a bowl of life and death soup, and his eyes were swollen like peaches. He took on the most troublesome task, insisting on feeding the old man once every two hours, cleaning up his excrement and urine, and turning him over. The room was filled with the fragrance of refreshing incense, but it couldn’t overpower the foul smell of the dying patient.
Shi Zhongyu didn’t rest. She pursed her lips, looking at the empty room of the sect leader. After a moment, she briefly gave some instructions to Jin Lan and activated the disaster warding talisman with a breath.
A surging heat swept over her, and she felt as if she had fallen into a furnace. Half of the life and death soup went down her throat.
When she woke up again, it was already broad daylight, but she didn’t know how many days had passed. Shi Zhongyu raised her body in a daze, only to find herself not in her bedroom but in the main hall of the Taiheng Sect—the hall was spacious, elegantly decorated, and solemn. She had seen it countless times and was very familiar with it.
Now she was half-sitting in the center of the hall, her body covered in sweat, and the high fever had made her thoughts hazy.
Was it a dream? This situation would usually lead to disciplinary measures.
Shi Zhongyu looked around in confusion and saw familiar faces. The elders of Taiheng were all grave, and the young disciples stood with their heads down. Only Qu Duanyun looked at her, his gaze complex, with a faint trace of regret.
Only then did Shi Zhongyu raise her head. On the seat of the sect leader sat the emaciated Qu Xundao. He held the ugly looking disaster warding talisman in one hand, looking bitter and exhausted.
“Ridiculous.” The hall was silent for a moment before Qu Xundao sighed clearly.
The intense fever failed to cover the coldness behind Shi Zhongyu. She had thought of many possibilities, but none of them included such a serious punishment. Her wounds were still throbbing, and the strong smell of ointment was pungent, not like good medicine—she clearly didn’t receive the treatment she deserved.
“Regarding the catastrophe at the Jianchen Temple, I heard about it. The Kushan Sect is responsible for monopolizing the Shirou clues and causing the deaths of two eminent monks, Venerable Juefei and Venerable Juehui, leading to the sealing of the Jianchen Temple until now… Yesterday, an urgent secret letter arrived from the Mishan Sect, saying that you, in collaboration with the Kushan Sect, destroyed the Arcane Arts of the Mishan Sect. Not only that, you allowed the Kushan Sect to steal the core secrets of the artifact and killed Chen Qianfan and Wei Chun to silence them. Zhongyu, is this true?”
Shi Zhongyu opened her mouth but couldn’t speak. A servant nearby handed her half a cup of cold tea, and she strained her smoky throat to say, “…I don’t know who lifted the restriction on that Arcane Arts, but it suddenly attacked us. I had to fight back. As for Senior Chen and Granny Wei… are they dead? I have no knowledge of it!”
She endured the dizziness and continued firmly, “When Sect Master Shi went to seek medical treatment this time, he had no intention of obtaining the Arcane Arts. He got along very well with Senior Chen and is a person who knows gratitude and righteousness… He even willingly exchanged the map rubbings with me—he wouldn’t harm someone’s life over just a clue.”
“But did you see what happened in the end?” Qu Xundao smiled bitterly.
“This Disciple…” Shi Zhongyu was momentarily speechless. After the fierce battle over the Arcane Arts, she had almost lost consciousness and didn’t retain many memories. When she woke up, she was in Twin Rivers, and she didn’t know the whereabouts of Chen Qianfan and Wei Chun.
“The Mishan Sect also lost an elder who rushed to help, and I believe it wasn’t you who killed him. Recently, only you and the Kushan Sect visited us. Zhongyu, if you say you were deceived by the Kushan Sect, I can still protect you…”
For some reason, while saying this, Qu Xundao’s eyes held a trace of inexplicable sadness.
Shi Zhongyu supported her sore body and said slowly, “Master taught me that I should see things with my own eyes and think for myself. Before entering the Mishan Sect, Shi Jingzhi had a chance to leave me behind. If he had ulterior motives, he wouldn’t have done that.”
The Arcane Arts’ restrictions required a skilled person to unlock, Shi Zhongyu thought hazily. Chen Qianfan happened to be such a person. To pin the activation of the Arcane Arts on the Kushan Sect’s leader, she needed to say, “I discovered Shi Jingzhi’s sinister intentions, so Chen Qianfan activated the Arcane Arts to kill him.”
But she didn’t witness such a thing. She was an eyewitness—the only eyewitness not in the Kushan Sect. If she lied here to protect herself, the Kushan Sect would undoubtedly be blamed.
“I was not deceived by evildoers. The situation is not clear, and there is no evidence of guilt. I won’t fabricate lies.”
Qu Xundao fell silent for a long time. He had no expression, his breath weakened, and he seemed to have aged ten years and yet found some kind of relief.
“I am seriously ill, not due to demons or evil plots, but because my time has come. The sect is going through a turbulent period, yet you led people to forcefully extend my life, consuming a great deal of manpower and resources. You personally protected me from disasters, showing deep affection and loyalty, but in doing so, you went astray and allied with evil, causing the Taiheng Sect to lose its true essence.”
Qu Xundao’s dry eyes stared at Shi Zhongyu. “Zhongyu, do you have anything to say?”
Shi Zhongyu supported her weak body and half-knelt on the ground, keeping her back straight.
“This Disciple has no regrets.”
Qu Xundao glanced around; some disciples showed anger or sadness, but none dared to speak up. He sighed and continued, “As the Sect Master, considering your initial intention to protect your master, I will temporarily expel you from Taiheng, but your name will remain. If you want to step foot in this sect again, think it through carefully.”
Shi Zhongyu maintained her half-kneeling posture, resolutely keeping silent.
“As an ordinary person, it’s true that I owe you for being able to live a few more days. In my room, there’s a potted orchid; take it with you—oh, remember to change the pot. The pot belongs to Taiheng.”
As he spoke, Qu Xundao’s voice became increasingly soft, revealing a sense of loss or contemplation.
“Master…”
“Go quickly,” Qu Xundao said calmly. “I’m a dying man, and I can’t let my disciple waste her life without knowing what’s good for her. The storms have been relentless lately, and you’ve been burdened by my illness. Remember to wear more clothes.”
With Jin Lan’s support, Shi Zhongyu was led away from the main hall. As soon as she stepped on the first step of the stairs, the heat on her body suddenly disappeared. Shi Zhongyu stood still, feeling extremely hot just moments ago, but now she was extremely cold. The exhaustion, pain, and worries of the past few days all turned into a ridiculous pile of ashes. For the first time, she couldn’t straighten her back, and her whole body felt like it was drained, filled instead with the icy wind from the northern glaciers.
Once the disaster warding talisman was activated, it wouldn’t be easily destroyed. With the disaster warding effect gone, there was only one possibility left.
Qu Xundao chose to sever his own meridians and die.
Half an hour later, outside the gates of the Taiheng Sect.
“Senior Sister, don’t… don’t be too sad. The Sect Master didn’t completely expel you from Taiheng. Once this chaotic situation settles, you will definitely be able to come back.” Jin Lan sniffled and handed her the potted orchid—the only thing she could take away according to Qu Xundao’s instructions. With the recent loss of the Sect Master, there were countless affairs to handle within Taiheng, and except for Jin Lan, no one came to see her off.
Shi Zhongyu stretched out her hands, carefully inserted them into the flower pot, and took out the orchid along with the soil.
“I…” She was about to speak, but suddenly her heart skipped a beat.
At the bottom of the pot, she felt something hard and cold.
After pondering for a moment, Shi Zhongyu said, “Jin Lan, take the pot back for now. There’s a lot of internal affairs in the sect at the moment; don’t worry about me… I won’t be leaving far for now. We can meet again another day.”
Jin Lan walked away, looking back three times. His swollen eyes were getting worse, and there was no one around. Shi Zhongyu wrapped up the orchid and soil carefully, then quietly wiped off the cold and hard object with her sleeve—
In that instant of recognizing the object, her eyes welled up, and she almost bit her lips till they bled.
It was the Taiheng Yang Reversal* Token.
*See Kinky Thoughts.
The Taiheng Sect Master always carried the Yang Token, and the Yang Reversal Token was managed by the person next in line to the sect leader. The one who held the Yang Reversal Token could use it to command the Taiheng disciples when the sect leader acted immorally, to correct their actions, or…
Simply depose the Sect Master.
Qu Xundao had been in charge of the Taiheng Sect for decades, highly respected and esteemed. Out of respect, the holder of the token had long since returned it, leaving Qu Xundao as the sole custodian. The Taiheng Sect had been too stable for too long, and they had almost forgotten that such a thing existed.
The Sect Master… No, her master was insightful, she thought. Qu Xundao might have already seen through something, but he was extremely weak, surrounded by numerous people, and lacked the opportunity and time.
Seeing that the Jianchen Temple had been sealed for a long time and something strange had happened at the Mishan Sect, the Taiheng Sect had no choice but to change its sect leader at this moment.
A storm was brewing, and the long-lasting peace in the martial world of Great Yun for the past hundred years might not be maintained for much longer.
The author has something to say:
…I have to say that it seems like a lot of people died in this novel (… I didn’t mean it!
Kinky Thoughts:
In regard to cultivation and Chinese medicine, the title of this chapter refers to a state of the body where the yang energy (qi) is out of balance, usually characterized by symptoms of chills, cold limbs, or a lack of energy.
In the same tune, it is also referencing the (yang reversal) token Shi Zhongyu received, which is basically a reversal of yang (the sun) qi. In the context of this chapter, the Sect Master of Taiheng wore the yang token, so the name given to the yang reversal token is quite apt.
Shi Jingzhi fell silent for a moment. He looked at Yin Ci with a confused expression, as if he hadn’t realized who the term “Your Highness” was referring to.
Then, he slightly widened his eyes.
Although it was still within fifteen days of the new year, several days had passed since New Year’s Eve, and there were no traces of fireworks in the sky. Yet, Yin Ci saw the man’s eyes gradually light up, as if he had captured a light that others couldn’t see.
Yin Ci patiently waited.
Twenty-four years had passed, and when they first met, they both had their own motives, almost competing to see who could take advantage of the other more—every move and thought were like a chess game, and their minds clashed like flashes of blades and shadows. Seeing their moves being countered and their tricks dismantled, it gave them an exhilarating feeling.
Now, they needed to consider each other, and even a simple probe required careful consideration.
“This matter is my private affair and has nothing to do with you.”
Shi Jingzhi finally opened his mouth, with a hint of warning in his tone.
“Royal secrets involve many people, and the Imperial Preceptor is focused on the way of the Immortal Path. The struggle for the Shirou alone is enough to create chaos in half the martial world. You have already taken risks for me. If your immortal body is exposed, it will only bring endless troubles.”
Yin Ci smiled. “When I posed as Su Zhi and competed secretly with Yan Budu, it was just one of many ‘troubles’. Your matter is nothing, and I won’t hesitate to do what’s needed.”
“And what about it?” Facing the man who was once his “immortal” idol, Shi Jingzhi showed no signs of excitement in his tone.
“What about what?”
“You may be immortal, but you’re not without emotions. Immortal beings can lose control and fall before their inner demons,” Shi Jingzhi said calmly. “If you think you owe me a favor or want to protect your Little Mute from back then, there’s no need to go to such lengths. Twenty-four years ago, you saved my life, and I protected your clarity of mind. We owe each other nothing.”
Yin Ci frowned; this was not the development he had expected.
Instead of taking the opportunity to move closer, Shi Jingzhi seemed to be unraveling and clarifying their past one by one with his words.
“To you, I may be just a brief encounter, fortunate to receive your mercy. You treated me carefully, forbidding me from hurting myself. But two days ago, you injured yourself deeply to save me. I am grateful… but even if you don’t see yourself as a human, I can no longer see you as an immortal either.”
Just like many years ago, Shi Jingzhi reached out and tidied up Yin Ci’s hair.
As a helping hand, was there a difference between a human and an immortal?
Since he desired to live so desperately, why not just accept help openly? Yin Ci didn’t understand Shi Jingzhi’s persistence.
But it seemed like Shi Jingzhi saw through his confusion. He stood up on the roof, smiling warmly. “I do want to live, and now that the enemy has appeared, I will give it my all. As for you, you will see what happens in the end.”
“When you think of me a hundred years from now, I don’t want words like ‘regret’ or ‘pain’ to be associated with it. You promised me a long life with no worries. Now that I am already without worries, you don’t need to dwell on the first part—if I were to fail, it would be because of my own actions.”
It has nothing to do with you, so you don’t need to blame yourself.
The night breeze was light, and Shi Jingzhi’s sleeves were gently blown. He looked at Yin Ci from top to bottom with a gentle gaze while the moonlight behind him glowed like a shimmering river.
“…Besides, if you insist on being an all-powerful immortal, with my heavy desire for life, I will inevitably resent you when I am dying. I detest such a way of dying.”
So, that’s it.
The maple forest in front of Yin Ci faded away, and the image of the smiling child slowly blurred. Shi Jingzhi dispelled the lingering illusions of the past and opened up honestly to him.
“Then, I won’t be your ‘immortal’,” Yin Ci said with a smile.
“Not as a disciple, not as an elder, not as an immortal, and not just for you alone—I will continue to investigate the matter of the flesh idol. I will follow your lead, and I can always find more clues.”
With a long sigh, Yin Ci also stood up and extended a hand. “Your Highness, are you willing to join forces with me?”
In an instant, Shi Jingzhi’s gaze softened.
He exhaled lightly, closed his eyes for a moment, and then smiled as he took the proffered hand. “I have a slight heart ailment, but I can manage. As we travel the rivers and lakes together, I hope you’ll bear with me a bit more.”
…It was a radiant smile that Yin Ci had never seen before.
For some reason, before that smile, Yin Ci felt a little inexplicably guilty—he had already activated the disaster warding talisman to protect Shi Jingzhi, and they had just become fair partners in their cooperation, so it probably didn’t violate any oaths.
Fortunately, Yin Ci wasn’t one to fret over trivial matters. He quickly suppressed his thoughts and considered this as the last memory of his “immortal” life, regardless of whether Shi Jingzhi could break through his facade.
“But this decision is not a small one. You can think it over for a while,” Shi Jingzhi said, unaware of his disciple’s thoughts. He pondered for a moment and then pointed to a street nearby, still brightly lit.
“How about this? Before we go back, let’s walk together down that street. If your thoughts haven’t changed by the end of it, I will accept without any regrets.”
Shi Jingzhi’s tone became much lighter, filled with anticipation and joy.
The Lantern Festival had not arrived yet, so Twin Rivers hadn’t held their festival. However, many shops were prepared in advance with lanterns at their doorways. The street was sparsely populated, but the warm lights were still on, and some business owners were resting at their doors, enjoying the festive atmosphere.
The master and disciple wore wooden Nuo masks and strolled leisurely side by side. Although the surroundings were simple, with shabby houses and dim firelight, they seemed to have stepped out of the bustling gathering into a carefree world.
Shi Jingzhi walked steadily, each step firm and full of strength. Yin Ci suddenly speculated that instead of leaving him time to regret, Shi Jingzhi seemed to be giving himself a chance to stabilize his emotions.
It was quite amusing.
Before this thought could fully form, Yin Ci stopped by himself. They had just agreed to cooperate, so why play tricks? It could be troublesome if Shi Jingzhi misunderstood his intentions.
However, old habits die hard, especially when it comes to teasing people. Yin Ci had to find another way and began recalling the innocent face of the Little Mute. But as he spaced out, he froze in place.
Shi Jingzhi suddenly turned his head, his face full of suspicion.
Yin Ci: “It has nothing to do with what happened earlier. I was just thinking… our relationship is quite deep, and I won’t play tricks on you anymore.”
“I thought A’Ci wouldn’t mind those trivial matters, but I didn’t expect you to be so concerned.”
Yin Ci clicked his tongue and dismissed the topic with a bit of resentment. “I can’t say I’m overly concerned; I just think about it occasionally.”
Shi Jingzhi didn’t know how to respond. Yin Ci acted nonchalant, but his face carried an undertone of “I used to hold you in my arms when you were young” and “elders should act like elders”.
This person was still bothered by those joking matters, indicating that his elder’s heart was still alive. Yin Ci had to erase the shadows of the past completely. Wasn’t that simple? At this moment, they knew each other well enough, so it was better to be open and frank, and this page could be turned.
With the Nuo mask hiding his expression, Shi Jingzhi mustered the courage to take the initiative and plan a counterplay.
At the end of the street, half was filled with flower lanterns and the other half with withered trees.
The wooden Nuo mask was rough and peeling off the oil paint, making half of the face beneath it look even more elegant and ethereal.
Yin Ci’s steps were steady. With his hair unbound, under the dim yellow light, his long hair gently swayed, exuding a soft radiance like still water. His complexion was pale, and his lips were slightly pale, with no visible flaws on his face, as if he were far removed from the bloody dust of the world.
However, he knew more about the taste of blood and gore than anyone else.
Shi Jingzhi had never scrutinized Yin Ci so carefully. He seemed even more attractive than Shi Jingzhi remembered. He had thought teasing him would be easy, but now that he took a closer look, he wasn’t sure how to proceed.
The boldness he had mustered seemed to melt away like sticky syrup. He hesitated for a moment and decided to escape the situation by giving Yin Ci a light kiss on the cheek… After all, when he fed Yin Ci the medicine in the Ghost Tomb, it wasn’t that difficult.
His gaze was fixed on Yin Ci’s pale lips; he felt as if he had swallowed a live rabbit, as his heart was beating wildly.
…Forget it, this matter had to be settled, and there was no reason to diminish his own imposing aura while bolstering the other’s pride. Shi Jingzhi adjusted his Nuo mask slightly, ignoring his inner turmoil, and launched a sudden attack.
He slightly turned his body and kissed the corner of Yin Ci’s lips before quickly pulling back.
He had originally intended to imitate his past self and kiss Yin Ci’s lips, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was just a light kiss, but he could feel sweat forming on his neck, and an inexplicable sweetness overwhelmed him.
It was as if it was the first time they had been this close.
Shi Jingzhi hurriedly suppressed his racing heart. He continued to walk as if he had a clear mind and casually said, “In this way, we’re even, and you don’t need to…”
Wait a minute, something’s not right. Shi Jingzhi suddenly had a feeling, and he turned his head to find that Yin Ci was no longer beside him.
Yin Ci stood there, somewhat dazed, without taking another step forward.
Behind him, a rough flower lantern was wrapped around a withered tree; its flame flickering, casting a hazy warm red light. Yin Ci was indeed wearing an ugly Nuo mask covering half his face, but the surprised expression on his face couldn’t be concealed.
It was as if Yin Ci had never expected such a scene. There was no sign of anger on his face; only shock as he looked at Shi Jingzhi, as if he had discovered a demon that was more extravagant than any Arcane Arts.
Shi Jingzhi had no choice but to stop in his tracks.
His mind was filled with all sorts of weird thoughts, and he almost couldn’t focus on the road. He suddenly thought that this person was the epitome of being overly sensitive, just like an official who forbids the common people from lighting lamps to prevent fires. At the same time, he realized that they seemed to have completely missed the opportunity to “dispel the awkwardness” and brought the awkwardness to a whole new level.
Amidst this jumble of thoughts, there was one fixed idea. In front of Yin Ci, he seemed to have completely forgotten how to act and play along.
On second thought, although Shi Jingzhi couldn’t control his own heartbeat, he wasn’t unfamiliar with romantic matters. After all, facing an immortal body, he should be more than capable of handling the situation with ease.
Shi Jingzhi looked at Yin Ci, and contrary to his usual self, he was openly showing his weakness—Great master, what’s wrong with you? Quickly resolve this issue.
However, Yin Ci didn’t respond.
If we were to measure the extent of heartache, Yin Ci was no less affected than Shi Jingzhi.
In their previous conversation, Shi Jingzhi wanted nothing more than to send him tens of thousands of miles away, feeling the urge to dig out his heart and lungs, and tally up the accounts of emotions. Just as Yin Ci had reluctantly placed this man in the category of “another powerful individual”, he was caught off guard by a sudden reversal, as if being struck by a boomerang.
Upon realizing this, his feet stopped on their own. Indeed, this trick was effective, Yin Ci thought. He no longer had time to think about the Little Mute.
However, he didn’t know if he had become too worldly or what, but for a moment, he felt ashamed of his own heart palpitations—the young boy’s innocent face appeared in his mind, along with recent memories of various moments. His emotions were left unattended and were shattered by this kiss, turning into a subtle tenderness.
The words “disrespect towards the elderly” shone even more brightly in his mind, filled with a strong sense of reproach.
Fortunately, it was just a momentary lapse, and he still had a chance to redeem himself.
Yin Ci looked up and met the bewildered eyes of Shi Jingzhi. Both of them were at a loss for what to do, as if they were about to accuse each other of not being able to successfully pretend to be clueless.
The two wooden chickens stood there at the street corner, letting the night breeze blow around them.
Regardless, they eventually finished walking down that street. Yin Ci thought, even if the process and the expected outcome were different, the result was the same—
At the very end, he could no longer play the role of this person’s “immortal”.
The author has something to say:
It’s getting twisted, it’s getting twisted.jpg
Cooperation is impossible, you are destined to be entangled indefinitely√
Originally, when Kan Chaosheng said that those few people were human traffickers, Deng Po didn’t believe it. In his mind, human traffickers were usually very cunning; they could easily disappear into the crowd in the blink of an eye, their skills almost rivaling those of secret agents. But Kan Chaosheng, seemingly impatient with explaining further, just snapped his fingers in front of him.
And then, Deng Po witnessed the most terrifying sight of his life.
A giant snake, indistinguishable whether it was a python, a snake, or even a dragon, appeared out of nowhere. It opened its huge mouth and lunged at him! However, as the snake reached him, it didn’t swallow him whole but suddenly transformed into tiny stars, disappearing into the air.
Deng Po stared ahead; his legs went weak, and he couldn’t even run. He fell to the ground, realizing that when people are scared to a certain extent, they can’t even scream.
Kan Chaosheng, initially feeling quite smug, changed his expression when he saw Deng Po’s reaction. He suddenly remembered that Long Shen had warned him not to use magic to frighten ordinary people outside. He felt a bit guilty.
“Are you okay? It’s an illusion; it’s not real.”
Deng Po took a while to get up. Kan Chaosheng had no choice but to help him up, looking a bit disgusted yet unable to resist explaining himself.
“You didn’t believe me, so I showed you. I didn’t expect you to be more timid than Dong Zhi!”
“Who the hell are you!”
Deng Po finally caught his breath and composed himself. He didn’t know who this Dong Zhi the other person mentioned was. He only knew that he was scared out of his wits. Who could remain calm after seeing a giant snake lunge at them? Especially since he had been afraid of snakes since he was a child.
“I’ll tell you after you report them to the police first,” Kan Chaosheng said. “They really are traffickers, just trapped in an illusion like you.”
Deng Po hesitated for a moment, then called the police over and explained the situation. He only said he found these four people suspicious and noticed the child was constantly asleep, and the four adults didn’t care.
Given that it involved human trafficking, the police took it seriously. After questioning, they found out the child was indeed kidnapped. The child had been drugged, which was why he was asleep. These four people posed as migrant workers returning home and had committed numerous kidnappings.
However, Deng Po later learned more details from the police officer he contacted. He was commended for his vigilance and even received a commendation and reward.
After handing the matter over to the police, Deng Po didn’t need to get involved any further. He and Kan Chaosheng returned to their compartment. The couple that had left with the child to find a doctor hadn’t returned yet. They probably got off at some station. It was just the two of them left in the compartment. Deng Po swallowed nervously.
Kan Chaosheng tilted his head and looked at him. “You’re quite smart.”
He never exposed his identity from start to finish.
Considering Kan Chaosheng currently appears as a child, if he were to report the incident, he would inevitably have to explain how he came to know about it. The issue of him traveling alone with an octopus would be exposed. He would either be asked to get off the train to contact his guardians or he would have to clarify his identity. For the outside world and many grassroots departments, it was as if the Special Administration Bureau never existed. The police would only think he was lying, or they would need to go through multiple layers to verify his identity, which would be very troublesome. But after pushing everything onto Deng Po, things became much simpler.
Deng Po wryly smiled. “You still haven’t answered my question.”
Kan Chaosheng blinked. “What question?”
Deng Po: “The illusion! How did you create that snake?”
Kan Chaosheng feigned innocence. “What illusion? Uncle, have you read too many novels? There’s no such thing as illusions. Those are stories to fool children.”
Deng Po: ……
Just then, a large part of the blanket from the upper bunk slid down. As Deng Po turned to look, he saw a long tentacle sliding out from under the blanket, followed by a round head.
Deng Po felt he was being driven mad by Kan Chaosheng because he actually heard an octopus speak.
“Sorry, can you help tuck the blanket back in?”
Deng Po: ……
Numbly, he reached out to tuck the blanket back into the upper bunk, covering the octopus. Then he turned to Kan Chaosheng.
“This isn’t an illusion either, is it?”
Kan Chaosheng: “Huh? I told you, there are no illusions! What did you see? I didn’t see anything.”
Deng Po, gathering his courage, turned back and pulled the blanket off.
Sure enough, there was an octopus on the upper bunk, and two of its tentacles were even playing a game on an iPad.
The octopus innocently said, “Could you cover me up with the blanket? Someone might get scared if they come in.”
Am I not human? I was scared too, okay!
Deng Po was on the verge of a breakdown. He said to Kan Chaosheng, “Don’t tell me this is another illusion!”
The frequency of Kan Chaosheng’s blinking had increased significantly from before, clearly struggling to come up with an excuse.
“Do you want to use the iPad? I’ll let it give it back to you.”
Deng Po was probably so terrified after seeing the giant snake that he was slowly calming down.
“Since the octopus can talk, who are you? Are you also an octopus?”
Kan Chaosheng looked Deng Po up and down with a look of disdain. “Your foundation isn’t bad. If you become my apprentice, I’ll tell you. Otherwise…”
He chuckled sinisterly. Deng Po’s heart, which had just settled, almost jumped out of his chest again.
“Do… do what? Are you going to kill and silence me?”
Kan Chaosheng replied, “Otherwise, I just won’t tell you!”
Deng Pu hesitated. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell others?”
Kan Chaosheng shrugged. “Go ahead and tell them. See who believes you!”
That’s true. Deng Pu thought if he told someone he met a talking octopus and a child who could perform illusions, they would surely think he was mad.
Deng Pu was torn; his curiosity itching him like a cat’s paw, but he was afraid to probe too deep. What if the child wasn’t really a child but an adult with dwarfism?
The more he thought, the more terrified he became, his goosebumps all over.
Kan Chaosheng, seeing Deng Pu’s pathetic state, sneered and climbed onto the upper bunk.
“It’s my turn to play now!”
“But big brother, I haven’t finished this round!” A sulky voice from the octopus came from under the blanket.
An octopus addressing a kid as ‘big brother’.
Deng Po felt dazed, as if he wasn’t in the real world. He pinched himself hard, and feeling the pain, he knew this wasn’t a dream.
Kan Chaosheng popped his head out. “Can I borrow the iPad again?”
Although he was asking, Deng Po felt as if he’d get a beating if he said no. He nodded quickly. “You can use it!”
In fact, Deng Po wasn’t the most patient person. Coming from a wealthy family and being an only child, he always got what he wanted. The friends around him were either of the same status or always flattering. The reason he took this trip was that he had a fallout with a friend over a girl. He chose to travel by train, hoping the journey would calm him. Instead, it opened a door to a new world for him.
The couple finally returned. Their child had awakened, but he seemed spiritless. Seeing Kan Chaosheng, the child screamed in fear, pointing and shouting “snake!” Only now did Deng Po realize that the child must have been frightened by an illusion as well.
He glanced at Kan Chaosheng, who indignantly said to the couple, “Why is he calling me a snake? I’m clearly a cute child!”
Deng Po twitched at the corner of his mouth while the couple gave him an embarrassed look. It seemed they couldn’t handle their child’s constant crying and despite unsuccessful attempts to change their seats, they got off the train at the Tianjin station. Although Deng Po was supposed to get off at the same station as well, he mysteriously stayed on.
“Little Friend, I still don’t know your name,” he tried to make conversation.
Holding the iPad, Kan Chaosheng glanced at him. “Who are you calling little friend? I’m much older than you!”
‘He must be an adult turned into a dwarf,’ Deng Pu thought. He scratched his head and asked, “You mentioned taking me as your apprentice. What can you teach me?”
“You’re not scared anymore?” Kan Chaosheng asked with a sidelong glance.
Of course, he was still scared. But since the other party had caught the traffickers and urged him to call the police, he didn’t seem like a bad person. Deng Po awkwardly replied, “Not so much now.”
Kan Chaosheng disdainfully said, “Don’t think I just accept anyone. If I didn’t find you agreeable, I wouldn’t have mentioned it. And even if I did, my boss has to approve.”
Deng Pu was taken aback. “You have a boss?”
So it’s an organization? It sounds shady. He was having second thoughts again.
When Kan Chaosheng heard it, he simply replied, “Right,” and then picked up his phone to make a call.
Long Shen’s phone was unreachable, probably turned off. So, he called Dong Zhi, bragging about his encounter with human traffickers on the train, and incidentally asked Dong Zhi to convey his intention to take on an apprentice. Little did he know that Long Shen was right beside Dong Zhi, who promptly vetoed the idea. This led to the previous scene, where Kan Chaosheng went to bed in a huff.
After hanging up, Deng Po had an incredulous look on his face.
“Wait, when you take an apprentice, do you… sleep together? Dual cultivation? Absorb Yin to replenish Yang? Wait, I’m Yang, so are you cross-dressing as a man?”
“Have you been watching too many movies or reading too many novels?” Kan Chaosheng replied disdainfully. “Since the boss doesn’t agree, let’s just pretend I never mentioned it.”
Deng Po, trying to suppress his laughter, asked, “Can I ask you a few questions?”
Kan Chaosheng: “Go ahead.”
“Is illusion magic like the magic in stories? Can you conjure real objects, like a cup? Can you teleport, like the apparition in Harry Potter? Where can I learn such skills?” Deng Po let out all his pent-up curiosity in one breath.
Kan Chaosheng looked at him as if he were an idiot. “If I could teleport, would I need to take the train?”
Deng Pu chuckled. “That’s a good point!”
Kan Chaosheng: “What you mentioned isn’t entirely nonexistent. With enough cultivation, one could ascend in broad daylight and travel vast distances instantly. However, such feats were more common in the Han Dynasty. The spiritual energy of this world has been diminishing day by day. Forget about immortals; there are hardly any spirits left.”
Feeling somewhat disappointed, Deng Po asked, “Apart from illusion techniques, what else can you do?”
Kan Chaosheng proudly said, “Just minor stuff, like creating clouds and fog and turning rivers upside down!”
‘Blowing your own trumpet,’ Deng Po thought. He didn’t verbalize it, but it was evident on his face.
“If you don’t believe it, so be it!” Kan Chaosheng, realizing he couldn’t recruit an apprentice, didn’t want to elaborate further. “By the way, the places you mentioned for cultivation? Maoshan and Mount Longhu have them.”
Deng Pu exclaimed in surprise. “I’ve been to Mount Longhu as a tourist. How come I didn’t see it?”
Kan Chaosheng replied with contempt, “If everyone could easily spot them, wouldn’t it disturb their peace? Those Taoist priests may be stubborn and stick to seniority, but they genuinely possess great skills!”
The conversation ended there, and Kan Chaosheng got engrossed in his game, ignoring Deng Po’s various questions. However, Deng Po eventually got his WeChat contact at the cost of a big bag of snacks.
Upon disembarking in Huai’an, Kan Chaosheng, along with Meika, headed straight for Guishan.
To find Wuzhiqi, going down the Zhiqi well on Guishan was the fastest route. Though after Long Shen and the others had emerged from it, the well was covered with a wire mesh, but that wasn’t a challenge for Kan Chaosheng. With few tourists around and a storm brewing, he pulled out the wire mesh and jumped down with the octopus.
Below was a deep pool, but for a jiao like Kan Chaosheng, entering the water felt like home. He cheered and expanded into a massive dragon, creating waves in the pool. The octopus, however, seemed a bit dejected, staying by the poolside without any intention to play or grow.
“Who dares to be so presumptuous here!”
The sound of chains rattled, followed by an overwhelming force.
Feeling the challenge, the jiao hissed and lunged towards the incoming gust.
“Ah—”
With just three moves, the jiao was flipped, reverted to its human form in midair, hit the mountain wall, and plunged into the water.
The Wuzhiqi sneered. “A mere water dragon dares to make a fuss here! If not for my agreement with Long Shen, you’d be dead by now!”
Kan Chaosheng emerged, head above water. Facing this ancient figure with a legendary past, he humbly said, “It’s Long Shen who sent me. He thought you might be lonely and asked me to bring you an apprentice.”
Kan Chaosheng’s aggressive behavior upon seeing Wuzhiqi was due to his beastly instincts, which compelled him to challenge any dominant force.
Apprentice?
The Wuzhiqi looked at the small octopus by the pond.
“Him? Has his intelligence awakened?”
Kan Chaosheng: “It has. He can speak two languages and play games. He’s quite smart.”
Wuzhiqi: “Where is he in his cultivation progress? Why hasn’t he transformed?”
Kan Chaosheng: “Oh, he’s starting from scratch.”
The Wuzhiqi was silent for a moment and then became furious. “You throw him here knowing nothing. Do you think I’m a junk collector?”
Kan Chaosheng: ……
The octopus also felt wronged. “Big Brother, the teacher you found for me is too fierce. I don’t want to stay. There’s no internet or games here. I can’t even watch web dramas!”
The Wuzhiqi angrily retorted, “What nonsense! With such a playful and gluttonous attitude, you dream of transforming! Take him back and tell Long Shen, don’t just throw anything my way!”
He released his overwhelming aura, which was immensely powerful. Even a true dragon couldn’t withstand it, let alone Kan Chaosheng and Meika. The former turned pale and almost vomited blood, while the octopus cried, “Big Brother, I want to eat fish. I want to go back!”
Kan Chaosheng: …This is so tiring. But I must fulfill the boss’s orders. Who knows how to persuade a monkey and an octopus to coexist peacefully? Help, urgently waiting online!
He then explained Meika’s background and mentioned recent events, including the broken seal at Kunlun Mountain, the sacrifices of people like Zong Ling and Che Bai, and the incident where Long Shen and Dong Zhi almost didn’t make it back. This calmed Wuzhiqi’s anger slightly.
“So, your ‘Special Administration Bureau’ is short on manpower and can’t spare anyone to teach him?”
Kan Chaosheng nodded vigorously. “So I had to bother you.”
The Wuzhiqi sighed. “Fine. Since I have nothing to do here, you both can stay.” He looked sternly at Kan Chaosheng. “Your foundation is too weak. To transform from a Jiao to a dragon, you need to break through a bottleneck. I suppose you haven’t reached that bottleneck yet?”
Kan Chaosheng: ??? Why is he suddenly talking about me?
“Senior, I just remembered, the boss told me to report back after sending Meika here. I must leave. Making the boss wait is not good. I’ll leave Meika in your care.”
He started retreating while speaking and vanished in a blink.
“Brother, leave me a cell phone so I can contact you!” The octopus shouted.
“I’ll bring—you one—next time…” Kan Chaosheng’s voice faded in the distance.
The Wuzhiqi calmly said, “Until you transform, don’t think about leaving.”
The octopus felt so hopeless that it wanted to cry again.
After escaping, Kan Chaosheng sighed in relief, looking back at Zhiqi Well. He laughed gleefully, thinking about his bright future.
Long Shen instructed him to deliver the octopus within ten days but didn’t specify when to return. Realizing this loophole, Kan Chaosheng decided to take a few more days off since he had already completed his task. However, he quickly faced a problem: he was out of money.
Having spent 300 yuan on “some” snacks, he was broke. Without mobile games to play, he felt life was bleak. Then, an idea struck him. He texted Deng Po: [Future apprentice, lend me a thousand yuan. I’ll pay you back next month.]
Deng Po was speechless upon receiving the message. But he was dealing with a tricky situation, and maybe Kan Chaosheng could help or perhaps introduce some genuine experts from Mount Longhu or Maoshan.
