The next moment, Wang Chao grabbed the table leg, his head against the corner of the glass table, looking as if he would bash his head in if he wasn’t allowed to switch teammates.
Lin Chen, not wanting to keep the delivery guy waiting, reluctantly said, “Fine, let’s switch. Wang Chao and I will be a team.”
Although they had to switch teammates at the last moment, they didn’t need to start the game over since Su Fengzi himself had dealt the 7 bottom cards for this round.
Lin Chen led Wang Chao downstairs.
Before leaving, Su Fengzi gave him a meaningful look.
The budget hotel had only one elevator, and 9 o’clock was the peak time for room bookings, so the elevator had to stop at every floor, and it moved slowly.
Wang Chao followed Lin Chen into the elevator, first taking a young couple to the 17th floor, then descending in the empty elevator.
His A’Chen Gege looked calm and upright, holding the cards with one hand and the other in his pocket.
The sound of the lifting motor and cables filled the space, and the metal elevator door reflected the blurry pattern on the back of the playing cards.
Wang Chao swallowed, his mind wandering.
If they exchanged cards, would they be able to guess the general suit in the Demon King’s hand, and discuss the best strategy?
However!
Wang Chao looked at Lin Chen’s serious face.
How could such an upright gentleman like his A’Chen Gege agree to such a petty trick like the Demon King?
Thinking this, Comrade Xiao Wang decided to keep quiet.
“Wang Chao…”
Lin Chen began.
“Huh?”
His A’Chen Gege eyes were full of helplessness.
Lin Chen: “You really don’t know how to be considerate of adults.”
Wang Chao was even more confused.
“I… was wrong!” He admitted quickly, though utterly bewildered.
Lin Chen continued, “Look, I specifically brought the cards down, and you did too…”
Wang Chao clenched his playing cards. “Yeah, to prevent the Demon King from peeking at our cards!”
The elevator door swung open, interrupting Lin Chen’s words.
A delivery guy in blue was waiting at the front desk, holding a bag from a well-known ice cream brand.
Wang Chao was deeply touched. “A’Chen Gege, can we finish eating before going back up?”
Lin Chen’s face showed satisfaction, so Wang Chao took the ice cream bag, sat on the windowsill, and placed the cards beside him.
Lin Chen sat next to him and put his cards down too.
The two decks of cards were very close, and Wang Chao snuck a glance; he could easily see his A’Chen Gege’s cards if he reached out.
Ah, the world is full of temptations!
Wang Chao could hardly control his desire to peek at the cards and turned his back, holding the ice cream box, too nervous to open it.
Lin Chen noticed all of Wang Chao’s small movements.
He didn’t react immediately because he was also quite shocked. His actions were so obvious, and yet Wang Chao resisted the temptation and turned away?
Comrade Xiao Wang was so upright, and Lin Chen’s own thoughts seemed so petty that he was too embarrassed to speak.
An awkward silence lasted for the time it took to eat a bowl of ice cream downstairs.
Upstairs in the family room, things were very simple.
Under the dim chandelier.
First, Xing Conglian looked up.
Then, Su Fengzi looked up.
Next, their eyes met.
Finally, they simultaneously reached out and exchanged the cards in their hands.
When Lin Chen and Wang Chao returned upstairs, everything around the card table seemed normal.
Xing Conglian snuffed out his cigarette, obviously bored, looking at the ice cream that was still on Wang Chao’s face. He said impatiently, “Did you have to sneakily eat it downstairs? What, afraid your boss is going to steal it?”
Wang Chao waved his hand and returned to his seat. “Who knows, Boss? In my eyes, that’s just the kind of person you are!”
Xing Conglian took advantage of the situation and smacked Wang Chao in the head, which was followed by Wang Chao’s howling.
Under the lamp, Su Fengzi propped up his chin with one hand, watching the antics and smiling but not speaking.
Lin Chen stood up, looking down at Xing Conglian and Su Fengzi, feeling that everything about them was forced, and the air was filled with a strange aura.
He must have been showing it quite obviously.
Su Fengzi picked up his cards and glanced at him and Wang Chao. “Even if you were memorizing cards downstairs, you didn’t have to take so long. What happened to your high IQ?”
Wang Chao’s face turned bright red. “Who was memorizing cards? Would I be as shameless as you?”
Lin Chen’s gaze shifted to Xing Conglian. Surely, he wouldn’t conspire with Su Fengzi, right?
Xing Conglian raised both hands and shouted, “Husband, you have to believe in my integrity!”
Lin Chen was speechless and sat down beside Xing Conglian.
If one could say that the previous round of cards was simply played casually, with everyone watching Su Fengzi tease Wang Chao as they played, then this round had begun with everyone mysteriously becoming serious, each harboring their own ulterior motives.
Lin Chen observed Xing Conglian and Su Fengzi’s expressions while playing his cards.
Su Fengzi flipped his cards randomly, and it was impossible to discern his emotions from his face when he drew one to play.
Xing Conglian didn’t smoke, and he held up his cards to play seriously. However, he found them too high, covering most of his face.
As for Wang Chao…
Wang Chao was calculating his cards so fast that he didn’t need any reaction time. Through their pre-arranged signals, the teenager continuously informed him of the possible remaining cards in Xing Conglian and Su Fengzi’s hands.
“Five of clubs.” In the third to last round, Xing Conglian again led with the trump card.
Lin Chen looked at Wang Chao.
If Su Fengzi and Xing Conglian scored 80 points, Lin Chen and Wang Chao would lose no matter what.
At this moment, more than halfway through the game, Su Fengzi and Xing Conglian had already scored 65 points, putting them at a great disadvantage.
The worst part was that Su Fengzi and Xing Conglian knew what their last six cards were, but they did not know theirs.
Now he had two choices: play the big king, to beat the five of clubs, or play a small card, to keep the big king for the last two rounds. He could also force out Su Fengzi’s main card, the king of clubs, but if that card was hidden in the seven bottom cards, then the big king would be tricked out, and they would lose the entire game.
Lin Chen’s fingers gently stroked the edges of the cards without looking at Su Fengzi, who was the last to play, but instead watching Xing Conglian.
“Baby, don’t hold the cards so high; I’m not so good at reading micro-expressions. Don’t worry about me seeing through your hand,” he said to Xing Conglian.
Xing Conglian shivered but did not let his guard down, swiftly putting down his cards and covering his face with his hands.
Lin Chen chuckled.
His finger slid over the card, and he played a useless card.
Su Fengzi sighed deeply; his face was filled with the sorrow of wasted efforts. “It’s just a game of cards, Shidi. You’re too cautious.”
As he spoke, he played the king of clubs, easily stabbing them.
By now, Xing Conglian and Su Fengzi had scored 75 points, and the chances of victory were diminishing.
Wang Chao’s face turned red with anxiety, and he groaned in pain, casting Lin Chen a “Why did you play that way?” look.
Lin Chen shrugged, apologetic.
“Shidi, do we need to play this card?”
At this point, Su Fengzi smiled meaningfully, flipping over his own cards to reveal the big and small kings.
As a small king had already been played, there was no doubt that Su Fengzi’s cards were the biggest.
A complete sweep!
Wang Chao’s eyes widened.
“Damn! So shameless!” Wang Chao yelled. “You hid such big cards till the end!”
As he spoke, he threw out his cards, a pair of tens.
At that moment, Su Fengzi’s face changed slightly.
But Xing Conglian didn’t realize what had happened, flipping over his card and throwing it out, his face filled with triumph.
“Shidi,” Su Fengzi began, his gaze following.
Of course, this couldn’t stop Lin Chen from turning over his card.
Under the lamp, on the transparent square table.
All eyes were focused on those two cards.
They were two bright red big kings, with the joker’s bright red smiling face particularly noticeable.
Now the situation was strange; there could only be two big kings in two decks, but at this moment, there were undoubtedly three cards lying on the table.
Time seemed to slow.
Wang Chao slammed the table, stood on his chair, and pointed at Su Fengzi, yelling, “You’re cheating! Scum!”
Su Fengzi remained calm, arms crossed, leaning back in his chair.
His eyes were cold and deep as he stared at Wang Chao.
Su Fengzi: “You’re so good at counting cards; you should have known that I probably had both the big and small kings in my hand. Why were you so shocked just now?”
Wang Chao recoiled but was not to be outdone. “I was shocked at your shamelessness; you still dare to be so fierce even though you cheated!”
“Is it not by pretending to be shocked that you clear yourselves of the suspicion of buying two decks and secretly switching the cards?”
“Are we you? It’s just a game of cards, and how do you know about buying two decks?”
Su Fengzi smiled. “That’s strange indeed…”
Lin Chen had been quietly watching, while Xing Conglian had been staring at him.
Xing Conglian: “What does Consultant Lin say?”
“Very strange.”
Xing Conglian stifled a laugh. “What’s strange?”
“Now there are only two possibilities.”
“Hmm?”
“First, you cheated. Second, we cheated.”
“Oh?”
“It seems that our going downstairs to pick up a parcel and buying a new deck is more likely, but of course, it’s not impossible that Fengzi secretly brought a new deck.”
“So?”
“So, since it’s a matter of ‘he said, she said’, this round can only be counted as your loss.”
Wang Chao nodded.
“Why?” Xing Conglian was taken aback.
“Normally,” Lin Chen said matter-of-factly, “since everyone has revealed their cards, it’s clear who’s the biggest.”
If it were Wang Chao, he would certainly jump up and retort, “Clearly, this round should be invalidated.” But the benefit of having Wang Chao as a teammate was that he was sure to keep his mouth shut now.
Su Fengzi: “Shidi is waiting for me here. Why is your competitive spirit so strong?”
Lin Chen: “Shixiong has taught me well.”
“I didn’t teach you to cheat, did I?”
“First of all, I didn’t. Secondly, there was a time when the four of us were playing cards with the teacher in the laboratory. How do you explain the 10 various point cards, big and small kings, that were found on you?”
“That was to make you understand that there’s no kinship at the poker table.” Su Fengzi sighed. “I never thought Shidi would become so shameless. You’ve grown up.”
Lin Chen still confronted Su Fengzi, neither giving an inch, and the situation was at a stalemate.
“I have an idea.” Xing Conglian raised his hand. “We can check fingerprints on the three big kings. The one without everyone’s fingerprints must be the cheated card.”
“That’s fine. In that case, why not check all the cards on the table?” Lin Chen looked at Xing Conglian.
“That’s too much trouble.” Su Fengzi spoke up. “Don’t add to the police’s workload. Just check these three.” Su Fengzi pointed to the cards in front of Lin Chen.
Just then, there was a loud bang in the room.
Wang Chao knocked over the chair, glaring at Su Fengzi, grabbed his collar, and yelled, “You are shameless, utterly shameless! I’m ashamed to be associated with you!”
Xing Conglian quickly rushed to pull them apart.
Lin Chen looked at Wang Chao’s performance, astonished. This couldn’t be explained as mere exaggeration.
“What’s wrong with you?” Xing Conglian suddenly asked.
Lin Chen frowned, quickly walked over to Wang Chao, and touched his forehead.
Wang Chao began to laugh, then kicked his legs, cursing Su Fengzi.
Lin Chen suddenly remembered the way the teenager acted when he was drunk and thought this scene seemed familiar.
“I ordered a matcha strawberry double scoop, not rum flavor.” He sniffed near Wang Chao’s mouth, smelling only a faint sweet ice cream scent, making it hard to determine if Wang Chao had accidentally eaten rum-flavored ice cream.
Lin Chen began to call the delivery company, asking what they had sent.
Xing Conglian dragged Wang Chao into the side room.
The company said they would have to investigate, and Lin Chen and Xing Conglian stood by Wang Chao’s bed, watching the teenager wriggle like a caterpillar.
“You didn’t watch him eat?” Xing Conglian asked.
Lin Chen replied, “Of course not. I went to buy a new deck of cards at the time.”
Xing Conglian turned slowly, staring at him in disbelief.
Wang Chao began to act seriously drunk.
Lin Chen never thought his perfect plan to counter Su Fengzi’s cheating would be punctured by a misdelivered box of ice cream.
Su Fengzi looked annoyed. He had finally been able to catch someone to play cards, and now they were one player short. Moreover, the child had a fever, so the guests could hardly have the nerve to stay.
Su Fengzi flipped through his phone contacts, planning to find someone else to play cards with.
As he was leaving, Lin Chen escorted him to the door, with Wang Chao singing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” out of tune in the room.
“It seems a bit late, Shixiong. Would you like to stay?” Lin Chen asked politely.
Wang Chao yelled from the room, “Playing cards is fun! So much fun!”
Su Fengzi’s face was full of disdain. “Why would I stay? To play a CP for you to develop?”
Well, perhaps that adjective wasn’t quite right. Specifically, it was more like Su Fengzi unilaterally overwhelming everyone, making everything revolve around his joy.
If this meal gathering were turned into a game scene, it would be like the pea-size Wang Chao, wielding a sword, jumping to attack the giant Su Fengzi. The giant simply raised a finger and flicked the little pea to the ground. Despite the little pea’s cries, it got up and continued swinging the sword chaotically, but it couldn’t leave a scratch on the giant.
After all, it was a basic attribute for giants to have thick skin and blood.
After the meal, Lin Chen felt really full and walked back to the hotel with Xing Conglian.
Surprisingly, Su Fengzi decided to accompany them on the way, perhaps because he hadn’t encountered someone as entertaining as Wang Chao in a long time and it would be such a waste to not keep pressing Wang Chao down repeatedly.
“Come on, let’s compete in a game. I’ll use only one hand!” Wang Chao was still hopping mad.
“Why don’t you compete with me in programming?” Su Fengzi said leisurely.
“Sure, sure, let’s head to the internet café up ahead!”
Lin Chen finally couldn’t stand it anymore and turned around to remind him, “He’s mocking you.”
Wang Chao asked Su Fengzi, “Why are you mocking me?”
Lin Chen looked at Su Fengzi.
Su Fengzi smiled and didn’t answer.
Wang Chao asked, “Are you at a loss for words?”
Su Fengzi: “No, your A’Chen Gege wants to be your interpreter, so of course I’ll give him a chance.”
Lin Chen felt like he was also being mocked and couldn’t help but remain silent.
“Do you have anything else to say?” Su Fengzi added.
“A’Chen Gege, you don’t need to give me face,” Wang Chao said.
Lin Chen was helpless. Wang Chao had absolutely no awareness in this regard. The explanation Lin Chen wanted to provide him with now seemed utterly foolish. He asked Wang Chao with patience, “Why did you want to compete with him?”
“Because he kept challenging me, and I wanted to educate him!” Wang Chao replied.
“Why don’t you just plug your ears and just ignore him?” Lin Chen suggested.
Su Fengzi laughed. “Shidi, I’m still here.”
Wang Chao: “That would be a bit pretentious, and it doesn’t fit my character.”
Lin Chen: “…”
People were passing by the riverside as they walked after the meal. However, Lin Chen felt that this stroll had no meaning in aiding digestion. Fortunately, after a few random remarks, they soon arrived at the hotel entrance. Lin Chen and Xing Conglian simultaneously stopped and turned to look at Su Fengzi.
Xing Conglian cleared his throat. “Fengzi, thank you so much for today.”
Meaning: Is it possible for you to leave now?
“What are you thanking me for? Otherwise, you would have bought Wangji just to have a meal of crayfish?” Su Fengzi retorted.
Xing Conglian felt embarrassed. “How could that be?”
“Shixiong, thanks for today,” Lin Chen added.
“Are you two teaming up to drive me away?” Su Fengzi pretended to be hurt.
Lin Chen asked directly, “Are you leaving or do you have other plans?”
……
Ten minutes later.
Two decks of cards were thrown on the table.
In the small living room of a budget hotel’s family room, four people, one on each side, stared at the playing cards in the middle of the table, silent.
“To be honest, I haven’t played cards in many years.”
Wang Chao had just returned from buying the cards, panting for breath, and from the mere term “playing cards”, one could tell that the young man had neglected this practice of a human cultural heritage that has been passed down for hundreds of years.
Xing Conglian looked at him coldly. “Not playing for many years implies that you have played before. Have you ever played?”
“Eh!” Wang Chao was taken aback. “Some tablets can only play Spider Solitaire; does that count?”
“That doesn’t count.”
“Oh, then I don’t know how to play cards.”
Wang Chao admitted honestly.
“You never taught him to play cards?” Lin Chen asked Xing Conglian.
“Why teach him? With his intelligence, who would want to play cards with him? I might as well play Fight the Landlord*.”
*A card game in the genre of shedding and gambling. It is one of the most popular card games played in China.
Hearing this, Wang Chao’s eyes lit up, and he slapped the table, pointing at Su Fengzi. “You’ve walked into hell!”
Su Fengzi didn’t respond, probably feeling hot. He finally slowly took off his suit, then reached over and slowly tore the packaging off the sealed deck of cards and began to shuffle them with a rattle.
The lighting in the small living room wasn’t bright enough; Xing Conglian had just smoked a cigarette, and the indoor smoke was swirling, floating like a thin veil under the light, creating a weird and solemn atmosphere.
“Can I check the rules for the card game ‘shuang ji*’ on Baidu Encyclopedia? Will one minute be enough?”
*Also known as level up, is a trick-taking card game played in China. They have dynamic trump, which cards change every round. As these games are played over a wide area with no standardization, rules vary widely from region to region. You can go to the Wikipedia to see the rules.
Su Fengzi also looked up and seriously asked Wang Chao.
In the blink of an eye, Wang Chao had already closed the Encyclopedia page, put down his phone, and replied, “Let’s do this!”
Xing Conglian had never played cards like this before, or rather, he had never played such a serious game.
Because of seating arrangements, Su Fengzi and Wang Chao sat facing each other, becoming teammates.
Wang Chao, although intelligent, had never played cards before, and was very awkward in the first round.
Su Fengzi sternly pointed out his mistakes, and Wang Chao even apologized earnestly.
Xing Conglian looked at his teammate, Lin Chen, and the two turned a blind eye to this instructional style of play.
“Pair of 9s, pair of 10s, pair of Jacks.” Wang Chao threw down another hand.
Su Fengzi stopped him. “They’re now grabbing points. If your A’Chen Gege throws QQ, KK, AA, we’ll be in big trouble.”
Lin Chen rubbed his forehead. “Shixiong, you’ve peeked at my cards again…”
Su Fengzi shrugged. “I’m not that kind of person, Shidi.”
Lin Chen didn’t believe it at all and turned his head to check all the reflective objects around him, then noticed the metal frame on the cabinet door behind him.
Su Fengzi looked surprised. “There’s actually a metal strip there, but don’t hurry to change places; I’ve only peeked in the first round.”
Lin Chen was speechless.
Wang Chao changed his play, but because of Su Fengzi’s spoilers, the teenager had already calculated their hands and played a pair of 10s, reporting as he played, “A’Chen Gege has Q-A, and the Boss didn’t play a pair of A’s in the last round, so the probability that the Boss has AA is very small. I don’t have it, so the pair of A’s should be in the hands of the big demon king!”
Su Fengzi shook his head helplessly.
“I told you not to teach him to play cards!” Xing Conglian complained.
“Endure it.” Lin Chen threw out a pair of Kings. “We’re leaving tomorrow anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Xing Conglian was stunned. “Tomorrow?”
“Yes, a game with Teacher Su takes at least 12 hours. Otherwise, why would he pester us so much?”
“Why?” Xing Conglian threw his cards out.
“Because his playing style is too shameless, and he’s skilled at counting cards, so basically no one wants to play with him.”
Lin Chen finally said, moving his gaze to the small glass table.
“Damn it!” Wang Chao jumped up, staring at the table in a perverted way, looking at the pair of A’s that Xing Conglian had finally played.
“You obviously had cards, why didn’t you play them just now!” Wang Chao said angrily. “Why are you so calculating!”
“Because this round is 40 points, the last round was only 20.” Xing Conglian educated. “40 is greater than 20, so the pair of A’s should be used here.”
Wang Chao ignored him, turning to the next person to question. “Why didn’t you remind me that you didn’t have a pair of A’s!”
“That would be cheating.” Su Fengzi continued the education. “Mainly to let you know how treacherous people are at the card table.”
“It’s too treacherous.”
“Yes.”
The two sang in harmony, and Wang Chao believed that Su Fengzi really didn’t remind him on purpose to teach him a lesson.
For Su Fengzi, shuang ji, a two-on-two game, was like playing Fight the Landlord; he himself was the only dealer, and as long as he could trap others, any way to play was fine.
But Lin Chen understood this quite well. For him, playing cards was too simple, so creating difficulties and then solving them was much more interesting than simply winning cards.
Lin Chen had to continue playing and looked at Xing Conglian, both equally speechless.
In fact, Wang Chao soon saw through Su Fengzi’s routine without Lin Chen pointing it out.
“Fuck, you did it on purpose, didn’t you!”
The good situation was once again uncertain because Su Fengzi had thrown the game.
The teenager angrily threw the cards; he was barefoot, and at this moment one foot stepped on the chair, and the other foot almost stepped on the glass table, tipping it over.
“You must have a calm mind when playing cards; being too competitive isn’t good.” Su Fengzi laughed.
“A’Chen Gege, I don’t want to be on his team anymore!” Wang Chao said.
“I don’t want to be on his team either,” Lin Chen said seriously.
Wang Chao’s eyes moved to Xing Conglian.
Captain Xing glared at him. “Comrade Xiao Wang, who gave you the courage to break up the CP?”
Wang Chao was almost in tears.
Lin Chen was helpless, and at that moment, his phone rang.
Lin Chen answered it; it was the takeout he had ordered earlier.
“Thank you, I’ll come down right away.”
Lin Chen hung up the phone and said to Wang Chao, “I ordered ice cream for you.”
The teenager’s interest was quickly diverted. “A’Chen Gege, how can you be so nice!”
“Experience,” Lin Chen said, picking up the unfinished cards, standing up, and gesturing for Wang Chao to go downstairs with him.
“What kind of experience?”
“The experience of cooling down. The last teammate who played cards with Shixiong was so angry after five rounds that he wanted to take a heart-relieving pill.”
“Is it too late to not want to play now?” Wang Chao wanted to hit the wall.
“Do you dare? I don’t anyway,” Lin Chen said honestly.
Hearing him say that Su Fengzi was very pleased. “Shidi, you flatter me.”
Comrade Xiao Wang’s pleas for mercy were in vain, but Lin Chen and Xing Conglian didn’t betray him.
How to put it? After all, it was Su Fengzi who came, and nobody could figure out what he was thinking.
Therefore, when Su Fengzi stood before them, Lin Chen and Xing Conglian exchanged glances, each hoping the other would be the first to greet him. Probably because they were too in sync, they found that both were trying to avoid taking the initiative, so they glared at each other.
Su Fengzi saw this and merely smiled, not saying a word.
‘Indeed, my Shixiong’s mind is as mysterious as the bottom of the sea and terrifyingly abnormal,’ Lin Chen thought, shaking his head helplessly.
He looked Su Fengzi up and down, from his suit to his shoes, and casually asked, “Isn’t it hot?”
“It’s hot, but since my Shidi needs me, I have to get dressed even if it’s hot,” Su Fengzi replied.
Lin Chen probably understood what was going on and casually said, “Thank you.”
Su Fengzi nodded but said nothing, standing tall in the night.
Xing Conglian and Wang Chao were at a loss. They felt that it was a bit strange that Su Fengzi didn’t make fun of them.
A disturbance suddenly arose at the entrance of Wangji’s restaurant.
Outside, diners were calling out, “Madam Boss”, “Madam Boss”…
A vigorous female voice responded politely, and soon, a woman was standing before them.
Xing Conglian’s eyes widened as he realized that the goddess of all crayfish enthusiasts, Madam Wang Meimei, was now standing in front of him.
Wearing a white dress and high heels and a sparkling diamond necklace around her neck, Wang Meimei was well-known on TV, especially during crayfish season. She was more than just an ordinary restaurant owner; she was almost considered a celebrity.
Now that the crayfish goddess appeared before them, it was obvious who she had come for.
Xing Conglian looked at Su Fengzi, more confused.
Indeed, the crayfish goddess only had eyes for Su Fengzi. She stepped forward, her cheeks flushed with excitement, and said, “Teacher Su, I’ve missed you so much.”
Her words weren’t flirtatious but full of genuine longing and respect for Su Fengzi.
Was Wang Meimei not part of Su Fengzi’s entourage but someone he had helped before? But Su Fengzi wasn’t like Lin Chen, meddling in other’s affairs…
As Xing Conglian was lost in thought, Wang Meimei explained herself.
“Will ‘The Domineering Tyrant’s Love’ be updated soon? I’ve been waiting so painfully!”
The crayfish goddess changed her tone and complained to Su Fengzi.
“…”
The room fell into silence, all stunned by the name.
Xing Conglian looked at the crayfish goddess, not expecting her to have such a taste.
Su Fengzi, however, acted as if everything was normal.
“How about I write a chapter for you to read?” he shamelessly offered.
Wang Meimei pondered seriously for a moment, then said, “I really want to read it, but since Teacher Su has come to have crayfish with me, let’s eat first.”
Su Fengzi nodded and asked, “Shall I tell you the outline?”
Wang Meimei’s porcelain-like face instantly brightened. “Yes, yes, but wouldn’t spoiling it be bad?”
As she spoke, she confidently led the way into the restaurant, taking them to a specially reserved private room, satisfying Xing Conglian’s vanity to the fullest.
“Why not? You’re so cute; what’s wrong with telling you?” Su Fengzi laughed.
Wang Meimei’s face turned red, and she sat down proudly next to Su Fengzi, looking honored.
Su Fengzi opened a napkin for her, and they began a passionate discussion about whether the Dragon Emperor liked the fourteenth Yunyang immortal more than the Crayfish Goddess.
Xing Conglian, looking at the well-dressed Teacher Su, finally understood who the suit was for.
“Interesting, right?” Lin Chen sat down beside him and smiled.
“Interesting,” Xing Conglian replied.
Wang Chao spread his chopsticks and made a face, silently despising Su Fengzi with a look that said, “You’re not braindead, are you?”
It was hard to tell whether Su Fengzi saw this look from Comrade Xiao Wang.
Lin Chen exchanged a glance with Xing Conglian, silently lamenting.
The dishes were served quickly. The four of them plus the restaurant’s boss sat at a table with more than half of the seats left empty, but the crayfish covered the entire surface.
To balance the richness, they also had garlic mashed cucumber, cold edamame, and marinated lotus root.
The sight was filled with red and green, and the spicy fragrance rushed to the face.
Xing Conglian ordered two bottles of Yongchuan draft beer, and as he heard the pleasant sound of the bottles being opened, he seriously considered the feasibility of acquiring Wangji.
It didn’t seem to cost much, and spreading Wangji restaurants all over the world would be a way to enhance the country’s prestige, right?
Su Fengzi continued to discuss the outline with Wang Meimei.
They had gotten to the part where the Dragon Emperor broke through and ascended to the Nine Heavens, where the great sect’s Senior Uncle’s Ancestor (female) fell in love with him at first sight, insisting on dual cultivation with the Dragon Emperor.
Upon hearing this, Wang Chao couldn’t help but spit out a mouthful of cola.
Su Fengzi put down his chopsticks and looked over.
“What are you looking at me for?” Wang Chao hurriedly wiped his mouth.
“Why did you suddenly spray cola?” Su Fengzi asked sincerely.
Wang Chao, perhaps emboldened, directly said, “Because you’re selling dog meat under the guise of mutton. Let me tell you, real male channel upgrade novels with a stallion theme aren’t like this. Your work has big problems!”
Su Fengzi didn’t get angry but smiled and said, “I would like to hear more.”
Basically, when Su Fengzi showed this expression, even Xing Conglian knew not to argue directly, as this person’s thinking was too bizarre.
But perhaps Wang Chao was too delighted with the meal, or maybe Su Fengzi’s acting was too good, as he thought Teacher Su was sincerely asking, so he benevolently instructed, “First of all, your title is very perverted. I thought it was a CEO novel, but you actually wrote a stallion story. There’s nothing like ‘Martial Arts’ or ‘Different World’ in the title. You dare call it a stallion? Isn’t your title a bit effeminate?”
Xing Conglian seriously doubted whether the cola in Wang Chao’s glass had been secretly spiked with alcohol. How else could a well-behaved kid go crazy like this?
Lin Chen was peeling crayfish like nothing was happening, and Xing Conglian also lowered his head, realizing that Lin Chen was more experienced in turning a deaf ear.
“Yes,” Su Fengzi replied to Wang Chao’s criticism, showing no resistance.
“And then there’s the female ancestor from the Nine Heavens Realm; this hag is a few thousand years old… Who wants to see her sleep with the male protagonist?” Wang Chao continued.
“Shut up! How can you talk about Teacher Su’s work like that!” As expected, Teacher Su’s number one fan, Miss Wang Meimei, couldn’t agree with it and rose to her feet, rebuking Wang Chao.
Su Fengzi, the author himself, took a small sip of the tea in front of him and smiled at his fan. “Don’t be angry.”
“But Teacher Su, he’s too much. How can he be so rude!” Wang Meimei was still furious.
“He’s just a child. He’s quite cute,” Su Fengzi explained gently, with a forgiving and magnanimous expression.
“That still doesn’t allow him to speak to you like that,” Wang Meimei insisted, still upset.
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Su Fengzi gestured for his fan to sit down. “Shall I take revenge for you?”
Wang Meimei was momentarily confused.
Su Fengzi turned to Wang Chao. “You sing a song.”
“What? Why suddenly ask me to sing?” Wang Chao’s mouth was still full of crayfish, and he was utterly perplexed. “Are you looking for trouble?”
“Yes.” Su Fengzi smiled.
“Hey!”
“Don’t adults usually ask children to perform for guests when they take them out for meals?” Su Fengzi said softly.
“I’m an adult!” Wang Chao shouted angrily.
“An adult, huh…” Su Fengzi rested his chin on one hand, insinuating something. “Then can you recite a poem, like ‘Preface to the Prince Teng’s Pavilion‘?”
“Screw that!” Wang Chao yelled.
Su Fengzi and Wang Meimei looked at each other and laughed.
“Cute, isn’t he?” Su Fengzi playfully pointed in Wang Chao’s direction with the end of his chopsticks, as if he were no longer teasing Wang Chao, but instead asking Wang Meimei.
“He’s adorable. I want to pinch his cheeks!” Wang Meimei revealed a creepy-aunt grin.
“He’s the prototype of Eunuch Jiangling in the book.”
“Really, it does seem like him. Oh yes, that little eunuch in the book was teased like this the first time he met the Dragon Emperor.”
The two continued to chat as if no one else was there. Su Fengzi seemed to be letting Wang Chao off, but his voice was loud, clearly speaking for Wang Chao to hear.
Comrade Xiao Wang, a pure and innocent youth, never thought that one day he would be written into a book like “The Domineering Tyrant’s Love” as an eunuch. For a moment, he was thunderstruck, his worldview shaken. However, he couldn’t help but ask, “Who is that?”
“A little eunuch beside the Dragon Emperor. Don’t worry, there is no sexual relationship between them,” Su Fengzi answered.
For Xing Conglian, the dividing line between spring and summer was marked by the large influx of crawfish to the market.
In reality, he had no particular requirements for food and often ate instant noodles and takeout with Lin Chen.
However, just like Lin Chen’s obsession with breakfast, he had a passionate love for crawfish.
Thirteen spices were good, steamed shrimp was also nice, but only spicy crawfish was the king, unparalleled.
Moreover, in a year, there were only one or two months when crawfish reached their peak in taste, so it wasn’t excessive to drive a hundred kilometers to Yongchuan to eat crawfish for two days during the weekend.
When he proposed this idea to Lin Chen, they had just left their office building.
“Then let’s go.” Lin Chen replied.
Wang Chao cheered from behind. Xing Conglian looked up at the fiery clouds in the sky and felt that the weather was truly pleasant.
As a genuine man, there was no need to prepare when going out. They arrived in Yongchuan with just one press of the gas pedal before the sky completely darkened.
This time, of course, they didn’t need to show off or worry about being embarrassed, so they decided to find a place not far from Yongchuan University to stay.
The suburban hotels like Cohen May couldn’t even order take-out. Besides a comfortable bed, they had nothing else to offer.
However, when they were getting off the highway, Xing Conglian still sought Lin Chen’s opinion.
Lin Chen opened his phone and randomly selected a budget hotel around 500 meters from the late-night food market based on ratings. When placing the order, Wang Chao in the backseat was still complaining, “Why do you need A’Chen Gege’s help to search for things? What’s my status?”
Lin Chen turned to ask him if he had any other ideas, such as staying near the children’s amusement park…
Wang Chao seriously considered this suggestion, but in the end, his overwhelming love for spicy crawfish prevailed.
And it didn’t stop there. Perhaps Lin Chen’s question triggered some memories in Wang Chao, and the teenager started rambling about his bitter experiences and reminiscing about the sweet moments.
“At that time, we really, during our hardest times, ate canned soybeans for three months, and even our farts smelled like that.”
“We even had to chew on camel meat in the desert, and the taste was simply bizarre.”
“When the Boss said he was retiring and returning to the country, I was so happy that I cried. Finally, we wouldn’t have to eat pizza every day. It was like living like a god!”
Wang Chao’s story became more and more outrageous. He even started to cry and wipe his tears in the lobby of the budget hotel while telling Lin Chen about the first time he had spicy crabs and cried over it.
“I held onto the table and refused to leave. The Boss tricked me and said there was crab at Mailin that was even better! Later, I found out it was a lie—a complete lie!”
“Okay!”
In the elevator, although Lin Chen’s face remained calm, Xing Conglian finally couldn’t help but stop Wang Chao. “Didn’t I compensate you afterward?!”
“Wow, Boss, are you talking about the month we ate stewed mutton as compensation? Mailin, tropical climate, scorching heat, and stewed mutton, for me!”
“What’s the matter? Do you have any complaints? The stewed meat was even airlifted from China.”
“But the dipping sauce! The key is that Mailin’s lamb dipping sauce is sweet! That’s what I mean by bizarre!”
“Bizarre.”
When the elevator arrived, Lin Chen, who had had his hands in his pocket the whole time, said nonchalantly.
Xing Conglian was dumbfounded and slowly turned his head.
“Eating soybeans for three months is also excessive.”
Entering the corridor after the elevator, Lin Chen said again.
Upon hearing this, Wang Chao almost choked up and clung to Lin Chen’s thigh.
“For these two days, just order whatever you want, and your boss will pay for it.” Lin Chen swiped the room key, firmly making the final decision.
Wang Chao felt like he had won a lottery and couldn’t help but shout for joy. To show his support for his A-Chen Gege, Wang Chao immediately turned around and said he wanted to queue at Wangji Spicy Crawfish. Within three seconds, he disappeared from sight.
Lin Chen entered the room and opened the window for ventilation. The hotel’s location wasn’t great, the furnishings were simple, and the family room had a small dining area with one table and four chairs. The bar counter only had an electric kettle and some tea. Lin Chen quietly boiled water and sat in one of the chairs, waiting for it to boil.
Xing Conglian sat down across from him, wanting to say something but not knowing where to start.
The air was filled with the hissing sound of an electric kettle boiling water, and the sound of vehicles passing by outside the window was clear yet somewhat distant. The atmosphere settled into a comfortable calm.
Xing Conglian looked at Lin Chen’s face under the soft yellow light and blinked gently. “Consultant Lin, what’s wrong?”
“Obviously, I’m feeling a little sorry for you,” Lin Chen said straightforwardly.
The water had just reached a boil. Lin Chen stood up to heat the cups and brew two servings of green tea.
Xing Conglian stood up and walked over to hug him. His stubbly chin rubbed against Lin Chen’s neck, but it didn’t interrupt Lin Chen’s tea preparation.
“Then I’ll have to treat you, you little glutton. You know how much you can eat,” he said with a smile.
“But I also feel a bit emotional. After feeling emotional, it’s appropriate to be a little angry.”
When Consultant Lin mentioned being “a little angry,” it meant just that—not too much or too little.
But with that peaceful tone, Xing Conglian was afraid that he might accidentally spill hot water on him.
He could only steel himself and say, “It’s not like I can’t apologize first. If I apologize, you will surely ask me what exactly I did wrong, and if I don’t know, I’ll have to kneel on the keyboard. But how could I not know? Everything that happened before is a thing of the past, like a dream or an illusion. It’s best to view it as such, and now everything is fine…”
Lin Chen finally put down the electric kettle and turned around. He also hugged Xing Conglian in return, and Xing Conglian let out a sigh of relief.
“If it were the old me, I would probably think that since you didn’t say anything, I shouldn’t ask either, and it’s fine to respect each other’s privacy regarding some past secrets…”
“That’s right!”
“However, that’s when I had secrets that I couldn’t tell. Now that I have no secrets, how could you still have secrets… Wife.”
As Lin Chen spoke, he kissed Xing Conglian’s earlobe, causing Xing Conglian to shiver and swallow a mouthful of saliva. “What do you want to hear?”
“Let’s start with the three months of canned soybeans.” Lin Chen paused. “You can skip the classified parts.”
Xing Conglian kissed him back and earnestly expressed his loyalty. “Actually, there are no classified parts, and how could there be anything I can’t tell you?”
“Why have you never mentioned it before?”
“A true man sheds blood, not tears.”
“Hm?”
Xing Conglian fell silent but held Lin Chen tightly. He could only say, “I felt very bitter. My personal qualities were not enough, and it wasn’t appropriate to talk about it as a casual chat.”
“On this point, you’re far inferior to Wang Chao,” Lin Chen said.
Xing Conglian let out a long sigh, unable to argue.
When Lin Chen said he was “inferior”, he meant that he wasn’t as carefree as Wang Chao, who didn’t take things seriously and would bravely face any situation.
For people like them, the most common way of dealing with things was to let the past be the past, not say much about it, and leave it at that.
However, some things would not truly be in the past until the day they were mentioned again.
This was probably some form of psychological treatment, but Xing Conglian thought it could also be classified as “when you’re unhappy, I’ll kiss you to make you feel better.”
In the end, this topic didn’t continue.
Wang Chao quickly called them, shouting in a panicked tone, “Boss, there are 500 tables waiting for Wang Ji. Has the world gone crazy?”
“If it’s so hard to wait at Wang Ji, don’t you have experience? Why didn’t you hack the queue system in advance?” Xing Conglian angrily replied.
“Boss, I’m a high-level expert, hacking a small crawfish restaurant’s queue system is beneath me!” Wang Chao said angrily, then turned into a flatterer. “But I have a new idea!”
“What do you want to do?”
“Why don’t you buy Wangji now?”
“Fuck off!” Xing Conglian was furious. “Do you think I’m demeaning myself by making a call for this kind of thing?”
“I think it’s quite imposing, like a domineering president.”
“Then hacking a queue system is also quite expert-like, right?” Xing Conglian sneered. “Or can’t you get in?”
“The art of provoking doesn’t work on me.”
Wang Chao wanted to say more, but Lin Chen finally spoke helplessly. “Do you guys still want to eat?”
“Of course!”
They both said simultaneously, on the phone and in person.
“No way, huh?” Lin Chen paused, then changed his tone. “Is there a way that you both don’t want to help?”
“As ordinary people, there’s really no way,” Wang Chao said righteously.
Looking into Lin Chen’s eyes, Xing Conglian also nodded.
“Alright then.” Lin Chen took out his phone and dialed a number. “I guess I’ll have to figure something out.”
20 minutes later, they stood together at the entrance of Wangji, surrounded by a dense crowd of customers. The aroma of crayfish wafted through the door, and Wang Chao was excited. “A’Chen Gege, you truly deserve to be the man supported by the boss. One phone call, and we’ve settled it with Wangji. Can we go in now?”
“Wait a little longer.” Lin Chen’s gaze drifted, giving a non-committal reply.
Wang Chao sniffed, his face showing a worried expression.
Sure enough, just at that moment, a figure in a tailored suit emerged from the end of the street. It was a scorching hot day, yet the person was still dressed in a smoking-gray suit with a dark blue tie, like someone from another world.
Wang Chao looked at the person for a few seconds, then exclaimed in fear, “Boss, is hacking the queue system still not possible? I was wrong!”
Nol didn’t hesitate to use [Bloodline Suppression]. Facing a target as formidable as the shadow wolf, the second time wasn’t as effective as the first. The freezing effect wasn’t triggered, and the shadow wolf’s movement only hesitated for a moment.
While using [Bloodline Suppression], Nol summoned the skeletons of two shadow snow leopards. These leopards were massive in size, born with wind attribute magic, and they moved as if they were on flat ground when running on the snowy plains.
At the same time, Teest slammed several small balls into the ground, which exploded upon impact, releasing a pungent odor. Teest then quickly grabbed Nol by the waist and mounted one of the leopards.
In just a blink of an eye, by the time the shadow wolf’s front paws hit the ground, Nol had already been whisked away by Teest.
Dr. Zhu reacted swiftly, grabbing Rosen and jumping onto the other leopard.
“Don’t go to the hunter’s cabin,” Nol murmured. According to the game’s settings, the shadow wolf wouldn’t harm the hunter, giving players more room to operate. If the hunter was killed off, who knew if a successor would emerge from that couple.
“I know.” Teest, controlling the snow leopard, raced in the opposite direction of the cabin.
Teest didn’t want to prolong the fight. They couldn’t handle a single shadow wolf, let alone one accompanied by other threats. Jack’s defense was as thick as a turtle’s shell. Before they could break through it, the shadow wolf would have already devoured them.
Yet, uncharacteristically, Nol seemed fixated. Even when dragged onto the snow leopard by Teest, he kept his eyes on Jack, unleashing a barrage of wolf-tooth bullets. They hit the protective shield with a clattering sound and then weakly fell to the ground.
The shadow wolf leaped among the shadows of trees and rocks. Even though Teest specifically chose the most open and flat route, the creature still pursued them relentlessly.
Its shadowy web stretched out, shooting forward now and then. Teest had to dodge left and right on the snow leopard, avoiding being caught directly by the shadow web.
Moreover, there were ice spikes summoned by that burly guy that appeared from time to time. He used a “trip up technique”, making the dried grass come alive and wrap around the skeletons, making the group’s progression extremely difficult.
Nol lowered his eyes.
The shadow wolf’s attack logic remained the same—it prioritized players who had taken on the quest. But it seemed as if it couldn’t see that burly man. Could it be that he, like Teest, was an NPC with unique talents? The thought made Nol shiver involuntarily. NPCs, players… He used to analyze these terms without a second thought, but now they made him deeply uncomfortable.
Suddenly, the burly man summoned what seemed like a surfboard out of thin air and hopped onto it. The totem on the board emitted a faint glow, allowing it to glide swiftly over the snow. He pursued closely behind the shadow wolf, clearly intent on not letting them go.
“Hand over the candle!” he shouted at Teest. “You can’t escape! I’ll chop off your legs and make you cry licking my feet!”
He seemed to be enjoying this as if it were a fun game.
Nol realized that the ability to summon items out of thin air was a feature exclusive to a player’s system inventory. The burly man was indeed a player. Paired with the invincible shadow wolf, they were at a severe disadvantage.
Nol leaned back against the skeletal snow leopard, hugging Teest. Looking over Teest’s shoulder, he stared intently at the Eternalist. Nol had only encountered relatively ordinary players like Bly and Barto before. Their reactions to being trapped in the game were typical.
But what about this burly guy? Didn’t he notice the abnormalities of this world? Why did he join an organization like the Eternal Church? Why did he say such things? Why was he laughing?
“…est.” The howling cold wind fragmented Nol’s voice; he had even forgotten to use telepathy.
“What?” Teest tilted his head.
“Teest, stop,” Nol said. “We must repel that player; otherwise, we have no chance of winning.”
“To fend off the shadow wolf, I need a shield, and there’s no sturdy shield around,” Teest replied. “No offense, but your neighbors aren’t much help.”
Nol chuckled. “Who says we don’t have a shield?” Pointing to the burly man chasing them, he added, “Isn’t that one?”
Teest paused, taking a sharp breath.
Nol continued, “The shadow wolf won’t attack him. I want to know the extent of this ‘non-attack’. If it genuinely won’t attack him, then he’s the best shield. If the shadow wolf bites him, he won’t die… He’s a player.”
Teest turned, silently staring at Nol, whose beautiful blue eyes were dimmer now.
“I have to know why the shadow wolf won’t attack him,” Nol whispered while staring at a certain point in the void. “Bugs need to be addressed properly.”
“If he dies, what will you do?” Teest casually remarked. “He is, after all, your kin.”
‘But this is also my world,’ Nol thought.
“I will use a revival spell,” Nol replied calmly. “I won’t let him actually die.”
Teest smiled. It might’ve been Nol’s imagination, but this time, his smile seemed genuinely sincere. He whistled, signaling the couple to step back, and made a graceful turn with the snow leopard beside him, leaping into the snow.
Nol’s expression hardened, and with a gesture of the book in his hand, countless skeletal hands emerged beneath the burly man, firmly holding onto the protective shield and trapping him in mid-air.
Caught off guard, the burly man froze in place.
The shadow wolf charged forth. With a jump, Teest lightly landed behind the tall man. Just as the massive wolf jaws were about to reach the burly man, the shadow wolf abruptly stopped.
It looked at the tall man with confusion. Not out of fear, but more like someone who doesn’t eat cilantro discovering it in their bowl.
Finally regaining his composure, the burly man exclaimed, “Fuck!”
He tried to break free from the skeletal hands, but they kept emerging, not attacking but merely holding him up in the air, tossing him around.
Teest used the burly man as a live shield, nimbly dancing around the skeletal hands, stabbing at the shadow wolf like a silver gust of wind. The wolf, with its long neck and sharp claws, just couldn’t get a hold of him.
Alongside the attacks, a health bar appeared above the shadow wolf’s head, exaggeratedly long compared to the lich, to the point of despair.
But it didn’t matter; their goal wasn’t to defeat it.
This was a basketball game where the “Eternalist” acted as the ball and the “shadow wolf’s massive mouth” was the hoop.
The couple quickly caught onto their intentions and swiftly joined the fight.
Rosen set up rings of light spells, gathering all nearby shadows around the burly man, drastically limiting the wolf’s mobility. Julie, with Rosen on her back, dodged and jumped to avoid the combat.
Jack, seeing his struggles were futile, began to use spells. However, he wasn’t a magic-based class, and his attempts barely disrupted Teest’s movements. Even more annoyingly, each time he was about to cast, a skeletal hand would interrupt him. The magic backlash alone wiped out 20% of his health.
Jack knew the strongest players around, and none were like this.
…Where did they come from?
While the burly man, Jack, was dazed, Teest successfully baited the shadow wolf into opening its mouth. At the right moment, they tossed Jack into the wolf’s mouth.
Crack!
Jack’s protective shield was bitten through, losing four layers. The shadow wolf, eyes wide, spat him out. Before Jack could curse, he was lifted into the air again by the skeletal hands.
“Fuck you all. I’ll cut you down myself!” Jack was furious. “Wait until you fall into my hands—fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Crack! Crack!
After a familiar setup by Teest, the wolf opened its jaws again. Nol made the “shot”, and Jack’s shield dwindled to its last layer, its glow almost gone.
This won’t do; I need to run. These two are too troublesome. With me here, the shadow wolf can’t fully utilize its powers.
Painfully, Jack took out a small crystal ball and swallowed it. The next moment, he turned into a colored mist, finally escaping the skeletal hands’ grasp.
Invisibility, double agility, solid smoke, sensory disturbance… Jack ripped one spell scroll after another, disappearing into the spreading smoke.
With the burly man gone, the battle was won.
While the smoke hadn’t cleared, Teest threw a couple of stink bombs. Without the burly man’s interference, fifteen minutes later, they managed to shake off the shadow wolf.
By dawn, the four had found a secluded spot and hastily built an igloo. Teest brought out honey, and they all ate it with snow, barely restoring some energy.
This was their first encounter with the shadow wolf, and luckily, no one was injured. Nevertheless, the group looked uneasy, especially Nol.
On the contrary, Teest seemed as casual as if he was out for a night stroll… he even appeared somewhat happy.
“If you can accept quests, can the two of us also?” Rosen spoke to Nol again, seemingly trying to make conversation.
“If there’s no prompt, probably not,” Nol replied lethargically. “You can only accept quests inside the instance. You two directly possessed creatures inside, skipping the ‘entry’ step… It’s like a game bug.”
Rosen sighed. “This damn game has too many bugs. Brother, is this really a game? Is it because the system isn’t compatible with the ‘real world’ that it’s so—?”
“I haven’t found conclusive evidence yet.” Nol quickly interrupted Rosen, his face expressionless.
So far, apart from Witch Lynn that he had guessed on his own, Nol hadn’t told anyone that he was the producer himself. Even the dragon nest trio didn’t know. Initially, Nol just wanted to avoid disputes, but now he really couldn’t dare to speak out.
This fact was like a wound, gradually festering at the bottom of his heart.
There was a hint of worry in Rosen’s gaze as he looked at Nol. But when he looked at Teest, that worry turned into caution.
“The person just now seemed to be a player.” Julie deftly changed the subject. “He must have come in on a quest. Why didn’t the shadow wolf attack him?”
Nol lowered his head. “I’ve verified, it’s not that the wolf ‘never attacks’. He must have used some method to interfere with the shadow wolf’s judgment. If the fight had continued, he would’ve been bitten to death.”
After saying that, he smirked. “Theoretically, the instance shouldn’t allow items that can ‘avoid the shadow wolf’s attacks’. I’m more inclined to believe he exploited a system loophole.”
“Like wearing the hunter’s clothes?” Teest asked with a smile.
Rosen was startled. “What?!”
“When we fought earlier, I also noticed any potential items, especially since he’s a magic-poor class. Unfortunately, I didn’t detect any unknown aura, and he was using all common magical items.” Teest shrugged. “But his clothes were strange, sewn with deer and bear hides; I’ve only seen such clothing on hunters.”
“I also wore the hunter’s clothes, but the shadow wolf attacked me.” Nol pointed to his snow boots. “Dr. Julie, your sense of smell should be similar to that of the shadow wolf. What do you think? Can you smell the hunter’s scent?”
Julie sniffed a few times.
“The smell of medicine is pungent, but I can indeed smell other people’s scents,” Dr. Julie said solemnly.
“The Old Hunter is still alive, so we can’t make a direct comparison.”
Teest continued enthusiastically, “That clothing is slim and long. It doesn’t cover the Old Hunter’s big belly, but the sleeves cover his hands. It’s not the Old Hunter’s clothes—it should belong to another hunter—a dead hunter.”
Rosen frowned. “That’s not right. We’ve seen the records. When a hunter dies, their bodies vanish.”
“Unless that guy knows where the bodies have gone,” Nol said slowly.
He finally looked up, a smile on his face.
“I’ve always wondered, the cycle of the hunters is weird… Some hunters die from injuries, old age, or sickness. Some should die in their houses, so some should leave marks on the walls. But there’s nothing.”
The hunter’s cabin looked ordinary, almost identical to the original concept art. When Nol first saw it, he didn’t notice any issues. Of course, after moving in, he did notice the traces of time on it, but—
“The current hunter’s cabin has been standing for at most 40–50 years. The earliest records of the cabin date back over a century ago,” Nol stated.
Seeing his smile, Rosen frowned. “What are you trying to say?”
“In the snow, there’s a hunter’s cabin, and inside lives an enthusiastic hunter.”
Nol turned to him, his blue eyes shimmering in the dark. “When a player arrives and finds the cabin and hunter mismatched, or when there are too many strange traces in the house, that’s not good. The player would feel uneasy, so the hunter and the cabin must match. When the hunter dies, the corresponding cabin must also be ‘refreshed’.”
For a moment, no one spoke. The outside blizzard roared like a beast.
“Since the hunter’s bodies haven’t truly vanished, can I assume the hunter’s cabins also can’t just ‘refresh’ out of thin air? They might be stored somewhere in the instance, like the hunter’s bodies,” Nol said calmly. “Yes, that makes sense… That’s a complete ‘save’.”
The corners of his mouth rose. “Every time a hunter dies, his body and the cabin are both preserved, convenient for later research.”
“The system must protect the saves from being damaged, which is why the shadow wolves don’t want to attack a player wearing ‘part of the save’.”
“Oh, what about those white wolves? They’ve been hunted, and their bodies didn’t vanish,” Teest asked sweetly, as if listening to a fascinating bedtime story.
“They have simple behaviors and lack research value,” Nol replied.
“I see,” Teest murmured.
Rosen moved closer to Julie. His back was slightly hunched, clearly on guard. Julie wrapped his hand with her claw, squeezing it reassuringly.
“I understand,” Julie said in a comforting tone that doctors often have. “I’ve heard that this kind of ‘save’ seems to be purely background data and won’t manifest within the game instance.”
“If that player got the ‘save’ clothing, does it prove that this world isn’t just a simple game…?”
Nol’s smile faded.
“Perhaps,” he replied. “But we still need conclusive evidence.”
……
Jack hurried through the night, gasping for breath.
He miscalculated; those guys weren’t easy to deal with. The dwarf and wolfkin were certainly not players. Even if the mage and warrior were, including him, there should still be one more player spot left. If Crimson was here, he wouldn’t be in such a sorry state. He shouldn’t have lied about the instance being full, trying to hog all the credit for himself. Now, all he could do was grit his teeth and endure.
Tonight’s battle was a complete defeat for him. Damn, how humiliating. It was a pity the player he brought in died. Otherwise, he could’ve taken out his frustrations on him.
Jack refused to end the game like this. The style of that mage was similar to the previous masked monster—perhaps they were the same person. This was crucial information. Even if he couldn’t find the candle, he must salvage something before leaving…
No, no! This was just a lapse in his judgment. Next time, he would be better prepared.
The burly Jack trudged through the snow, one step deep and the next shallow, finally reaching his destination.
Two identical spruce trees stood about a meter apart, their roots surrounded by mirror-image clusters of weeds. Even knowing the location, Jack almost missed it.
He exhaled a frosty breath, closed his eyes, and walked right between the two trees.
When he opened his eyes again, it was still the same forest, but there was something new in the clearing—
Over twenty identical wooden cabins were neatly lined up, piled up in the snow like cubes. The cabins all looked the same, differing only in age and damage. Some had white plaster on the walls, and some were patched up with differently colored boards. One was covered inside and out with chaotic scribbles in blood, appearing almost black in the snowstorm.
It stood silent among the trees, like a quiet fortress.
Jack entered the hut in the middle of the bottom row. Inside lay the player he had brought in.
The player was frozen solid, his limbs stiff and pale. Fortunately, the extremely low temperatures meant slow decomposition, so there was hardly any smell. After briefly admiring the corpse, Jack tossed it into the snow outside, where three or four other bodies already lay, all of them well-proportioned and handsome.
Only one didn’t look so good, belonging to a male half-beast. The body was naked, with a messy, dirty beard. His left leg was torn apart by wild beasts, and his right hand still clutched a crossbow. The cabin had once belonged to him, but Jack had dragged his body out. Now it was his.
Jack lit the fireplace, carefully removed his beast-skin coat, and hung it near the flames to dry. The room gradually warmed up. Sitting down in front of the fireplace, his mood had lightened considerably since entering.
The night was deep, and a snowstorm raged outside. The warm firelight cast a soft glow over everything in the room.
“It’s quite beautiful when you look at it this way,” Jack mused, stretching out his legs and getting drowsy.
Those fools outside probably never understood what the shadow wolf was—who would have thought this place would have a “physical save”? Even Jack shuddered a bit when he first saw these identical cabins.
‘If there’s a god in this world, it must be utterly insane,’ he thought.
The author has something to say:
Celebrating the young couple’s first basketball game together, quacking happily.
Shadow Wolf: Woof! Why do people keep forcing cilantro into my mouth when I don’t like it!
You all got fooled by Jack regarding the number of instances!
The advanced tech of the Eternal Church be like: This is what Lord Demon Jack said.jpg
The sky grew darker, and spending the night outside in the cold winter was perilous. The couple couldn’t get close to the hunter’s cabin, so they simply found a nearby cave to stay in.
Nol and Teest hunted some deer, wild chickens, and rabbits. They left half for the couple and dragged two deer back to report.
“We got the deer.” Nol smiled at the old hunter.
To win the old hunter’s favor, Teest skinned the deer and portioned the meat before bringing it back. The old hunter rolled his eyes, inspecting the chunks of meat and deer skins. After a while, he scolded, “Where’s the deer blood? Both of you, imbeciles.”
His tone was harsh, like a father reprimanding his son.
“Cutting the meat in such large pieces makes it hard to dry! And the deer skin… It smells too gamey when brought inside. Where are the bones? Surely you didn’t throw them away? Idiots, both of you. You understand nothing!”
Nol’s smile twitched slightly. Should I just summon the bones to dance in front of you?
The old man’s temper was unbearable. Logically, the hunter should at least provide them with basic instructions. Yet, not only did the old hunter not guide them, he barely spoke a word unless it was to scold.
Recalling the misfortunes of other hunters, Nol swallowed his anger. “Sorry, we’ll be more careful next time.”
“What next time? You’re staying here again tonight?” The old hunter coughed. “Damn, so annoying.”
Nol, Teest: “…”
Teest maintained a smile but quietly clenched his fist, causing his knuckles to crack.
Luckily, the Mad Monk’s self-control exceeded his malice.
Late at night, after eating the deer stew Teest made, the old hunter went out with his crossbow. The moment he left, the atmosphere inside the cabin became several times more relaxed.
“For some reason, the old guy seems prejudiced against us.”
Teest slumped into a chair near the fireplace and looked like he was about to melt from the warmth of the fire. “I wonder what reward he’ll give us based on his fondness? We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t slap us.”
“I doubt it would come to that.”
Nol sighed. He was sitting cross-legged on a fur rug, engrossed in a history book.
The old hunter couldn’t be that bad; after all, he had given them boots suitable for snow. Otherwise, he could’ve just let them freeze their toes off.
At the moment, two pairs of boots are drying in front of the fireplace. Old Hunter also stuffed the boots with herbal pouches that have antibacterial and moisture-absorbing properties. As the flames heated them, a rich medicinal aroma wafted through the room.
“He seems to hate us staying in the cabin. Perfect, tomorrow we’ll…”
Mid-sentence, Nol realized Teest had dozed off.
…Indeed, he was the unpredictable Mad Monk. He probably hadn’t had a regular schedule. Given the tough environment, he was probably on edge. Nol covered Teest with a fur blanket.
The flickering firelight illuminated Teest’s face, dancing over his long hair. For a moment, Nol admired his companion’s good looks. Many players designed their characters to be handsome or beautiful, but Teest’s appearance was natural. What kind of family did he come from?
After settling Teest, Nol returned to his book. The only sounds were the rustling of pages and the crackling of wood.
He’d been catching up on this world’s history, comparing it to his memory of the game’s setting.
This continent, called Tahe, hadn’t yet understood the concept of planets.
After a long dark age, war broke out in Tahe. After centuries of strife, the era known as the Evergreen Age began, signifying peace. The history mirrored the game’s setting, except for religious aspects.
The Temples of Life and Eternal Church seemed to exist since the age of strife. They flourished and left numerous records. There were various other religions, but they faded into history.
The main storyline of Tahe was set around the 496th year of the Evergreen Age. The last time Nol checked in Whitebird City, the current date was August 7, 723, meaning he woke up more than 200 years after the game’s setting.
During these 200 years, countries that were once peaceful had conflicts, and the continental borders had shifted considerably.
The Kingdom of Gemino was originally one of the three major nations in the setting. It borders the Desolation Islands, which was ruled by the Demon King, on its west side and was under constant attack from monsters. Seeing the king doing nothing, Gemino split into two countries, East and West.
More than the shifts in the world map, Nol was more concerned about the “Demon King”.
The owner of the item shop in Whitebird City once mentioned that two hundred years ago, the dragon-blood hero Drake went to subdue the Demon King and has since been missing without a trace. Historical records also frequently mentioned the “Demon King.” Books on the Demon King weren’t detailed, only noting that he dwells across the Endless Sea. No one had ever successfully defeated him, so there wasn’t much information.
People only knew that the Demon King’s power corrupted the land, causing everything to decay and die, making him the nemesis of all living things. Even the Eternal Church, which venerates death, didn’t get along with the Demon King.
…This setting seemed very clichéd, and Nol couldn’t quite figure it out.
He was only sure that in his “Tahe World” game, there was no such thing as a “Demon King”. The enemies the players faced were just crazed monsters or evil humans with ambitions.
“Desolation Islands”—just by its name, it shouldn’t be in a casual game.
The players and neighbors trapped here, the missed two hundred years, the suddenly appearing gods and a Demon King… there were too many unknown puzzles. Nol decided to prioritize the most important one.
He needed to first figure out if this place was a game or reality, as it was directly related to their plan to go home.
Organizing his thoughts, Nol put down the book and decided to spend the remaining time studying magic.
Now, he could save on sleep, as the rules of the “advanced undead ” were waiting for him to explore.
……
Teest quickly woke up, as he never slept deeply. He noticed the blanket on him and smelled the peppered meat soup.
Nol filled an iron cup with soup and warmed it by the fireplace. Seeing Teest awake, he looked up with a smile and threw the paper filled with writings and calculations into the fire.
“We don’t have milk here. Drink some soup before heading out. Your shoes are dried and over there,” Nol said, taking a cup for himself. “It’s been exactly two and a half hours. The old hunter should be back soon.”
Teest looked at him for a while. “How did you know I wanted to go out?”
“Because we didn’t find any clues during the day,” Nol replied with a mysterious smile. “The night might hide more secrets.”
…Sorry, he actually knew that the white wolf would only come out at night! But it was hard to explain. If the player’s affinity with the hunter was high, the hunter would provide this clue. Since they couldn’t rely on the old hunter, Nol had to step in.
Fortunately, Teest was smart, so he wasn’t too concerned.
Teest took a couple of sips of the soup and exhaled. “Not bad. I was planning to stay up.”
The two were on the same page.
Woken up in the middle of the night by Nol, the couple got ready without a word. They made simple preparations and ventured into the dark.
The wolfkin Julie and Nol joined forces. The four of them conducted a wolf census in the vicinity—two pinpointed the wolf’s location.
Nol set up a skeletal trap, and Julie tackled it, pinning down its neck. Under the intimidation of the gray wolfkin, those wolves barely whimpered.
There were brown, gray, and even a few black wolves, but no white wolves. To ensure the white wolf didn’t stain itself, they scrubbed every wolf with snow.
“Could it be that the mission’s time is too short and the white wolf didn’t spawn?” Rosen, seated on his wife’s shoulder, stroked his chin in confusion. It wasn’t that he was too lazy to walk; when Officer Luo stepped into the snow, her short legs were mostly buried. Julie was worried he’d get lost.
“It’s probably bad luck,” Nol replied, sounding disheartened.
This was supposed to be a fun and peaceful game instance.
Players would enter, search for the white wolf’s traces in a vast snowy forest, and enjoy the wonderful snowy scenery out of season. They could taste the delicacies of the snowfields and watch the unique animals of the cold regions.
Enthusiastic hunters would share legends and assist players in completing tasks. If they unfortunately encountered the shadow wolf, players would just black out and find themselves outside the instance.
Now? NPCs who entered mistakenly were brainwashed into becoming the hunter. And if they were caught by a shadow wolf, it probably wasn’t as simple as “black out and get kicked out of the instance.”
The shadow wolf surely hovered around the white wolf. The fact they didn’t encounter the white wolf right away might be a good thing. Nol was more concerned about the lurking Eternalist. If possible, he wanted to catch that person first.
“Should we look elsewhere?” Thinking of this, Nol suggested. “We still have time. I’d like to see the relics of where humans once lived.”
Maybe this could pique the curiosity of the Eternalist and lure them out.
“Good idea.” Teest’s gaze wandered around constantly. He was obviously considering the same thing.
For a brief moment, Rosen showed a troubled expression. He glanced at Julie, who first shook her head, then nodded.
“I’ll lead the way,” Julie said calmly. “I’ll take you to the biggest ruins.”
Upon arriving at their destination, Nol seemed to understand Rosen’s dilemma.
Here, the site was located next to a rocky hill, with several logs scattered around, indicating there once was a small community. Around the cave, there were even three or four collapsed tents.
The lost people had made weapons out of stone and built stoves and tables using mud and bones. On the table was a bowl carved out of wood, with its remnants of soup long frozen. Large animal skins were spread on the stone beds, with three frozen corpses lying on top.
A man and a woman clung to each other face-to-face, with a four- or five-year-old child between them. The three were emaciated, their faces showing twisted pain. Their bodies were pale like stone, almost blending in with the stone bed.
They clung tightly to each other, fingers digging into each other’s skin. The extreme cold had preserved every detail of their bodies, from the child’s thin face, the woman’s swollen right arm, to the terrifying bite mark on the man’s leg.
The walls of the cave were inscribed with words, which later turned into blood writing. It started with pleas and prayers but ended with curses of despair. Compared to this place, the Dragon Tomb Garden seemed so peaceful.
Nol stood still, already chilled by the cold wind, but now he felt like the cold had penetrated his soul. Those curses seemed like sharp arrows, piercing him from head to toe.
‘It shouldn’t be like this,’ Nol thought, bewildered.
Not long ago, he approached challenges with a puzzle-solving mindset. The plight of the trapped was tragic, but it was just fragments of a story. Now, this scene violently invaded his mind.
Is this your world? A tiny voice whispered in his heart.
All this happened because you didn’t give the hunter a fixed personality, just as you didn’t name the master of the lich. Your neighbors, your kin, the locals… everyone is suffering, dying in the world you created.
Can this world still be called a “game”?
No, it must be a game. It cannot be real. It absolutely can’t be.
“This is not a place where a village can thrive. Too few resources, harsh weather, and people who come here are almost unprepared,” Rosen murmured, lifting his torch higher to brighten the space.
“Actually, considering the circumstances, they did relatively well. They had a somewhat normal life for a while and left in a dignified manner.”
Julie gently touched the corpses and sighed. “The others had it worse. I don’t recommend you look… Some preferred to eat their family and friends rather than die of cold and hunger.”
Nol didn’t reply. In the dark cave, he felt like he was about to be swallowed whole.
“Brother, are you sure you’re okay? Don’t force yourself. Even us police need counseling when faced with such scenes.” Rosen walked towards Nol while casting a discreet glance at Teest.
Teest looked at the scene indifferently, unfazed, as if the family on the bed were genuinely stone statues. Compared to the tragic scene, he seemed more interested in Nol.
In the darkness, those golden eyes kept staring at Nol, not moving for a second.
“I’m fine.” Nol took a deep breath after half a minute. “You chose this place not just because it’s more… peaceful, right?”
Rosen hummed in agreement. He walked over to a part of the cave wall, tiptoed, and pointed to the densely written words: [Look here.]
According to the records on the wall, six people initially arrived. One of them unfortunately became the hunter, but he seemed more temperate than other hunters—he had a brief conversation with his family, who came to recognize him.
The hunter said he couldn’t provide them with supplies or help. He could only offer these conveniences to the “players”, for the “players” were his real family.
“I thought I misunderstood at first, but now it seems that the word refers to ‘players’,” Rosen moved a few steps and pointed to another spot. “Look at this.”
The record was shorter this time.
The master of this place found a white wolf. The white wolf was docile and wouldn’t attack humans, making it perfect prey. When a white wolf was hunted, another one would appear the next day—equally docile and white, but possibly of different age and size.
“It seems that not only hunters have been replaced by cycles, but they are really well-prepared.”
Teest spoke with a light tone. “After all, the white wolf is just an ordinary wild beast. With so many wolves here, catching one, dyeing its fur, and brainwashing it is much easier than dealing with humans.”
Nol punched the stone wall. His flesh was damaged but quickly healed, leaving only cold blood stains behind.
“Shh…”
Seeing this, Teest took two steps closer and supported Nol from behind. He stood between the couple and Nol, blocking Rosen’s view.
Nol let him hold him.
He had a false heartbeat, but his body was extremely cold. Teest’s hands felt as hot as flames. Through the thin fabric, Nol almost felt burned by those hands.
“Don’t be so upset,” Teest whispered, his voice almost bewitching. “The past is the past. You still have time to save your neighbors. Save that punch for the Eternalists.”
‘But this is no longer about the neighbors,’ Nol thought. Even so, he managed to force a wry smile.
He then turned to Rosen and Julie. “I’m sorry, I lost control a bit.”
“The smell of blood!” Rosen was about to reply when Julie suddenly spoke up.
Teest instantly activated a skill to remove their auras, followed by Nol’s invisibility—after the upgrade of the dragon-skin notebook, he no longer cared about conserving invisibility space. To outsiders, the four of them seemed to disappear on the spot.
Julie set Rosen on her shoulder and nodded silently to the two men. Rosen clenched his teeth, casting an AOE wind spell. The group moved silently on the snow, leaving no footprints.
The scent of blood came from a giant polar bear.
This bear could reach a height of four meters. Although it was huge, it was very agile. At this moment, it was fighting a large black wolf and was clearly losing.
The giant wolf was nearly three meters tall, pitch black to the point that its fur details were indiscernible. From their distance, they could only see its glowing red eyes, and its blood-covered fangs, tongue, and claws.
It was the Shadow Wolf, a symbol of disaster.
Its shadow seemed alive, entangling the polar bear like a fishing net, rendering it immobile.
The Shadow Wolf easily tore through the thick bear skin. With each bite and claw, blood spurted. The polar bear’s continuous howls made it sound like a helpless lamb. The worst part was that the Shadow Wolf seemed to be playing more than hunting—after feasting on the softest belly meat and organs, it left.
It didn’t run away, but instead jumped effortlessly, merging into the shadows of the trees.
The one-sided hunt lasted less than five minutes.
Nearby, the group remained still. As the bear’s corpse began to freeze, Officer Luo couldn’t hold back anymore.
“…Damn, bullets probably can’t penetrate that thing’s hide,” Rosen murmured.
“Nol said this is a plot boss. It’s not meant for you to defeat.”
Julie spoke casually, but her tone was serious. “We should find the white wolf quickly. If this creature can move through shadows, it’ll be hard to detect and defend against.”
“You two,” Teest cleared his throat, “I think you spoke too soon.”
Something warm and pungent dripped onto everyone’s heads, translucent with a faint hue of blood.
Teest pulled Nol close while Julie grabbed Rosen, and they retreated in opposite directions. The Shadow Wolf missed its bite, its lower half still tucked within the shadow of a huge rock.
It bared its teeth at them, exhaling a mist full of the scent of blood.
Nol deactivated his invisibility, directly invoking the Dragon’s [Bloodline Suppression]. The Shadow Wolf whimpered, freezing in mid-air.
Teest wanted to draw his sword, but Nol stopped him. “Run!”
Although the Lich Valdorlock’s strength adjusted according to player strength, the lich was designed for players to defeat, while the Shadow Wolf was designed to defeat players.
“Can this thing be stronger than a dragon?” Teest asked while running.
“Impossible. There’s basic logic in species strength,” Nol said. “But it’s a special monster, definitely at least twice as strong as the lich.”
“Brother, give me a comparison I can understand,” Officer Luo said while catching wind on Julie’s shoulder.
Nol replied calmly, “A bite from the Shadow Wolf is like an ordinary wolf biting a mouse.”
“Tsk.” Teest suddenly hit the brakes.
Nol tensed up, wondering if Teest was about to lose it again. But he soon saw the reason—
“We meet again.”
A tall figure in a cloak blocked their path. He held a long sword, layered with multiple protective barriers.
“The skull mask from last time isn’t here? …A dwarf, wolfkin, mage. Ah, I see. So, the one who wielded the sword last time was you.”
He raised his right hand, pointing the blade directly at Teest. “Tell me where the candle is, or I’ll give you a taste of hell.”
Nol clenched his teeth, taking a step forward. “Have you lost your mind? The Shadow Wolf will be here any moment, and it’ll tear apart every living thing—”
“Except for me.” The tall man laughed.
The next second, the Shadow Wolf leapt out from his shadow, lunging straight for Nol.
The author has something to say:
The ordinary wolves around: In the middle of the night, a bunch of freaks break into our home, pin us down, and give us baths one by one. Any ideas, everyone?
————————————
Regarding the confusion in the last chapter about the number of players in the instance… I have probably three things to explain!
① Do not believe the nonsense of the Eternalists.
② Do not believe the nonsense of the Eternalists.
③ About whether Teest is considered a player… You can think of him as an offline player? He’s still a player, can level up, take on quests, and get rewards… but that’s pretty much all he can do.
The same goes for the people in Nol’s community (those with incomplete player rights).
On weekends without work, life would change from a police drama to a sitcom, possibly the comedy type.
Lin Chen wanted to get up early but wasn’t careful when he got out of bed. While stuffing his hug pillow into Xing Conglian’s arms, he accidentally woke up Captain Xing.
At that time, he still held the pose of bending over and pinching the corner of the hug pillow. Xing Conglian probably felt something was off and opened his eyes in a flash, catching him red-handed.
Their eyes met, and the scene was very awkward for a moment.
“I… wanted to make you breakfast,” Lin Chen pointed to the closed door, saying seriously.
“You didn’t say that before going to bed last night.”
Xing Conglian embraced the pillow. A blue blanket was draped around his waist, exposing his strong chest and muscular arms. His skin was even fairer than Lin Chen’s, and as he lay on the deep blue satin sheets, he looked quite charming, though his moist green eyes looked very aggrieved.
Lin Chen felt a stir, but he steadied his heart and breath and earnestly said, “Captain Xing, you can just ignore what a man says when he’s lost in passion.”
He pinched Xing Conglian’s ear to comfort him.
“Is my technique not good?” Xing Conglian sat up, insisting on asking.
“Very good.”
“Weren’t you comfortable yesterday?”
“Very comfortable,” Lin Chen answered truthfully.
“You said we would do it again this morning. Why did you sneak away?”
Lin Chen sighed deeply and sat down on the bed. “Because it was too comfortable, I felt physically exhausted, and my legs are weak now.”
Xing Conglian wrapped his arms around his waist, slightly doubtful after hearing this answer. “Really?”
“Really.” Lin Chen nodded.
In an instant, Xing Conglian let him go, retreating to the other side of the wooden bed.
“What’s wrong?” Lin Chen asked.
“Consultant Lin, hurry and leave. I’m afraid I might lose control of myself,” Xing Conglian said, gritting his teeth, looking quite restrained.
Lin Chen found his acting first thing in the morning utterly adorable. So, he sat on the edge of the bed, crossing his legs, gently caressing the bedsheet, and chose not to leave.
“Why… are you not leaving?” Xing Conglian frowned, pretending to ask in pain.
Lin Chen didn’t speak and started unbuttoning his newly put-on home wear from bottom to top.
The curtains were still drawn, so the dim light cast an ambiguous shadow, outlining Xing Conglian’s handsome face.
Lin Chen bent down, hugged his back, and gently bit his shoulder.
Xing Conglian chuckled. “I’ll just rub it. I won’t go in.”
“Okay…”
But since this was a sitcom, there must be something to interrupt after he said “okay”.
Sure enough, at that moment, the living room resonated with Wang Chao’s agonizing cry.
Lin Chen rolled off Xing Conglian, panting.
The latter was even more direct, sternly saying, “Should I go kill him?”
Lin Chen’s heart almost stopped. He stroked Xing Conglian’s forehead and said, “Just knock him out with some chloroform or something?”
However, Wang Chao obviously wouldn’t give them the chance to discuss what drug to use.
“Boss, Boss, A’Chen Gege! Xiao Wang is missing!”
The teenager pounded at their bedroom door, shouting loudly.
……
“Is this what you call ‘missing’?”
About a minute and thirty seconds later, they stood by the window facing the river in the living room while Xing Conglian coldly questioned Wang Chao.
The gauze window was torn with a large hole, and the light blue plastic gauze that was bitten was swaying in the wind. Just outside the torn window, on the lower left corner of the air conditioner unit, Comrade Xiao Wang was fearlessly basking in the sun.
Indoors, Wang Chao was sweating so profusely that he might even kneel down and beg for mercy in the next three seconds. “I… I… I was too nervous about Xiao Wang’s safety!”
“Hm?” Lin Chen stood against the wall with his arms folded and surprisingly joined in the conversation.
“A’Chen Gege, look. When I got up and saw such a big hole, I was afraid that Xiao Wang had accidentally taken a leap of faith into the river and died. It’s well known…”
Before finishing the sentence, the orange cat lying on the air conditioner unit woke up leisurely.
Every strand of its fur was sparkling. It got up, shook its fur, and then turned its plump body around. Its front paws reached the window ledge, and then it kicked with its hind legs, swiftly passing through the hole and landing steadily on the floor. Its agile figure was the best mockery to Wang Chao.
“Haha.” Xing Conglian laughed out loud.
Wang Chao’s face turned red, and he grabbed the orange cat’s waist and shouted. “I’ll fight you!”
Then…
Xiao Wang shook his front paw and slapped Wang Chao firmly on the face.
This time, even Lin Chen couldn’t help but laugh.
Wang Chao was shocked, covering his face, and watched as Xiao Wang’s figure slowly walked away, unable to believe everything he had just experienced.
The teenager pointed to the cat and then pointed to his own cheek.
“It hit me!”
“Well deserved.”
Xing Conglian responded smoothly.
Wang Chao held his chest, feeling very hurt, looking as if he was about to run away from home.
Lin Chen took a step forward, blocking Wang Chao’s escape route, causing the teenager to almost fall to the ground.
Xing Conglian kicked Wang Chao’s butt.
“Stop pretending,” Lin Chen said. “You can’t run away.”
“You two are teaming up on me!” Wang Chao shouted aggrievedly. “I really just care too much about cats.”
Lin Chen leaned against the wall and looked at Xing Conglian. “Zhang Xiaolong said that the bureau has been shorthanded in organizing old paper files recently.”
“Yeah, a big group of people have to work overtime on weekends.”
“It’s too hard.”
“Indeed.”
“If there’s extra help, especially someone skilled in computers, it should improve efficiency, right?”
“Naturally, as colleagues in the police station, we should lend a hand.”
At this point, they both looked at Wang Chao.
“This is the first weekend I’ve had off in twenty days!” Wang Chao stated indignantly.
“You care too much about cats that you don’t need this kind of vacation,” Lin Chen said.
“Get lost!” Xing Conglian summed up the statement.
……
Although Xiao Wang’s disappearance was just a false alarm and it ended with Comrade Wang Chao working 48 hours of overtime, Lin Chen later searched online and found that plastic gauze windows were easily torn by cats. This was their mistake.
The disrupted morning couldn’t continue, so Lin Chen and Xing Conglian changed their clothes, closed all the doors and windows, had a quick breakfast, and went straight to the home improvement store.
Of course, the salesperson recommended replacing all the doors and windows at home and gave a very shocking quote.
There were too many doors and windows at home, so they calculated the price and found it unnecessary.
Xing Conglian searched for DIY cat protection net tutorials online, and he and Lin Chen studied it together. They felt that it seemed safer than replacing all the gauze windows.
So, ignoring the disdainful eyes of the salesperson, they turned around and left, went to the hardware area, and bought a bunch of materials based on the measurements.
In the afternoon, the other party arranged for the delivery.
Lin Chen looked at the large pile of wire mesh in the courtyard and then at the police captain, who had changed into a sleeveless vest and was ready to work vigorously and gave up the idea of helping.
“Consultant Lin, you rest. I’ll take care of everything!”
Xing Conglian stood in the sunlight, stepping on the wire mesh with excitement.
He had broad shoulders and graceful muscle lines, making him even more attractive under the sun. Lin Chen scanned him from head to toe, then headed to the kitchen to make a cup of tea and grab a random book. He lay down under the umbrella, signaling Xing Conglian to proceed as he pleased.
Captain Xing was experienced in outdoor survival, and repairing equipment was a piece of cake for him. He had complete supplies at home.
Lin Chen watched him move a large pile of tools from the cellar of the gazebo, some of which might come in handy, while others might not, and continued drinking his tea.
Perhaps Xing Conglian’s movements were too loud. Starting from when he began cutting, Xiao Wang, who had been sleeping on the cherry tree in the courtyard, was suddenly awakened.
The orange cat, who was still half asleep, rubbed against the pink cherry blossoms a few times, looking dazed and not very stable.
Lin Chen put down his teacup and walked to the foot of the tree. Xiao Wang cooperated well and jumped down gracefully, hitting Lin Chen’s chest like a cannonball. The famous saying “ten oranges, nine are fat*” was indeed well-deserved. Lin Chen took a few steps back before catching the cat.
*It’s a saying referring to how, out of 10 orange cats, nine are fat.
“Are you okay?” Not far away, Captain Xing, who was working seriously, even took the time to show concern.
Lin Chen waved at him and held Xiao Wang by the neck, sitting back under the umbrella and yawning.
With a cat on his lap, tea in his hand, his lover in “revealing” clothes not far away, the warm sunshine and sweet cherry blossoms, and a book purely for show, it made him feel drowsy, so he actually fell asleep.
The nap wasn’t long. At least Lin Chen felt that he was probably woken up by something licking him as soon as he closed his eyes. The tongue was smooth and flexible, obviously not Xiao Wang’s. Lin Chen chuckled and hooked the person’s neck without opening his eyes.
The other person struggled and said, “Let go, let go. I need to work.”
Lin Chen opened his eyes.
Xing Conglian’s face was very close to him. His white overalls were soaked with sweat and thin to the point of transparency. Their noses were almost touching, and their breaths were entwined.
Lin Chen playfully nudged Xing Conglian’s calf with his foot and wrapped his arm around his waist, gradually lifting his overalls. He said seriously, “Here, I’m working too.”
Kinky Thoughts:
Never trust a man when he says, “just the tip” or “I won’t put it in”.
It was pouring that day, and Wang Chao went out to the internet cafe to play games, coming back home drenched like a drowned rat.
As he was shaking his hair under the eaves, he saw a cat, soaked and muddy, crouching by his feet, shaking off the water with him.
“Wow, I think this is a wonderful fate, so I took it in!” Lin Chen opened the door to find a soaked teenager pointing at the soaked cat at his feet saying this.
There was muffled thunder in the sky, and dark clouds pressed low.
Everything, including the pond’s koi, was gloomy and damp, and only the teenager’s smile was brilliant.
Lin Chen crouched down and petted the cat lying on its back, showing its belly, and found it to be a similarly brilliant orange cat, so he had no reason to refuse.
Lin Chen turned and led the two wet comrades into the house.
He found a fluffy large bath towel from the wardrobe to wrap the cat, while Wang Chao had already shouted “so cold” and rushed into his bathroom.
Lin Chen held the cat by the window to dry it.
Outside the window, the rain was heavy, turning the river into black mud. The sound of splashing water came from the bathroom. The room was filled with the unique chill of the southern region, but when holding the cat, everything was peaceful and warm, even carrying the unique warmth of small animals.
In short, the connection between cats and people always caught one off guard. Often, you wouldn’t think much before going out, but when you came back, suddenly you were a person with a cat.
However, for Wang Chao, this serendipity lasted only until Xing Conglian came back from duty.
Xing Conglian came in and saw the cat sleeping on the rush mat while closing his umbrella, so he threw the umbrella at the door, and excitedly went to Lin Chen, exclaiming, “Wow, do we have a cat now?”
Wang Chao, hiding in the corner playing mobile games, heard this and jumped up, shouting, “It’s not ‘we’, thank you. This is my cat!”
But Xing Conglian paid no attention to what Wang Chao said, as the view by the window was too good.
Lin Chen was sitting cross-legged on another rush mat, holding his chin in one hand and looking at his phone, showing a serious and thoughtful side face and a delicate, flexible neck.
His other hand was slanting by his side, with the fluffy head of the orange cat resting on the back of his hand, leaving only his fingertips lightly touching the edge of the rush mat, as if trying to maintain balance, afraid to pull his hand away carelessly.
Xing Conglian quietly came over, crouched down next to Lin Chen, and looked at the round orange cat, clicking his tongue in admiration. He was so happy he didn’t know what to say.
He leaned over and kissed Lin Chen’s ear, then asked in a low voice, “What should we name our cat?”
Lin Chen did not answer but looked at the irate Comrade Xiao Wang next to him.
The teenager immediately came over and seriously gave his opinion. “I’ve thought about it. Let’s name it Pikachu! The color, the cuteness, it’s all very close!”
Probably because Wang Chao’s voice was too loud, the orange cat suddenly lifted its head and looked at him in confusion with its green eyes, not knowing what was going on.
“What?” Xing Conglian didn’t understand.
“It’s Pikachu from ‘Pokémon’!”
“Did you say Mantis Shrimp*?” Xing Conglian asked back.
*Clarity: Pikachu (皮卡丘) vs [Pipixia] (皮皮虾)
“That joke’s outdated, Boss. You older people’s pop culture sense is so embarrassing,” Wang Chao said seriously.
Xing Conglian was about to grab Wang Chao’s scalp.
Lin Chen relaxed his palm and scratched the orange cat’s fluffy forehead with his fingertips, staring into the cat’s eyes, and seriously asked, “Xiao Wang?”
The orange cat meowed softly.
“Eh?” The teenager was quite bewildered.
Xing Conglian stared at Lin Chen’s finger, reacting faster. “Calling it Xiao Wang is good. How about adding an eight*?”
*Clarity: The joke is [wang] (王) combined with eight (八) becomes bastard/son of a bitch (王八). So it’s like Little Bastard (in reference to Wang Chao).
“Why, what kind of joke is this?” Wang Chao was dissatisfied.
“Because it’s similar,” Lin Chen casually replied, looking at the teenager in front of the sofa and then at the clever orange cat on the rush mat.
The heavy rain came and went in haste.
Wang Chao was tangled in a matter regarding the name for a while, but the rain stopped, and the sky revealed a pale gold hue at dusk.
Lin Chen put his mobile phone back in his pocket, finally stood up, found a canvas bag at home to put the cat in, and prepared to leave with it on his back.
Seeing this, Xing Conglian went to the door ahead of time and stood in front of Lin Chen. “Consultant Lin, can we still be with people with a cat?”
“A’Chen Gege, where are you taking Xiao Wang?” Wang Chao asked from behind.
Lin Chen put on his shoes and waved his phone at them. “The encyclopedia says, if you find a stray cat, first take it to the vet for a check-up…”
He picked up the bag, walked a few steps, and looked back at them. “Why don’t we have teppanyaki for dinner?”
Wang Chao cheered while Xing Conglian took the bag holding the cat from Lin Chen but didn’t seem very pleased.
They walked along Yanjia Lane.
After a downpour, the river had risen considerably, and households along the street began to cook; the fragrance of cooking oil wafted everywhere.
Black tiles, white walls, green trees, yellow flowers, humid air.
Xing Conglian put a cigarette in his mouth but, realizing he was still carrying the cat, didn’t light it.
Lin Chen walked beside him and naturally held his other hand. Xing Conglian quickly grasped it, feigning seriousness on his face.
“Captain Xing, what are your demands? You can raise them now,” Lin Chen casually asked.
“When can we have a world for just the two of us, without any third wheels?” Xing asked.
Xing Conglian looked back at the mentally handicapped teenager, who was walking a long way behind them and was still playing with his phone while yelling. He was quite upset.
“When we sleep,” Lin Chen said seriously.
“That’s restrictive too. You’ve been very suppressed lately, Consultant Lin. It’s not good for your health in the long run, right?” Xing Conglian approached while asking with a smile.
“Don’t you like this style?” Lin Chen’s dark eyes lifted slightly, revealing a faint smile.
Such a light smile, yet Xing Conglian felt his heart touched by a soft feather.
He immediately thought of Lin Chen’s restraint and suppression, even curling his toes in his sleep, and wanted to throw both the cat and Wang Chao away and take Lin Chen home immediately.
Lin Chen was clearly teasing, saying, “But we have a cat tonight, so it might not work.”
The cat was uncomfortable in the canvas bag, peering out, not understanding what they were saying.
Xing Conglian held up the cat, looking at its fluffy paws and head. Although the cat was… utterly adorable, having those eyes watch them at night during their passionate times seemed inappropriate…
With resolve, he shouted, “Wang Chao, get your ass over here.”
The teenager ran over instinctively, braking suddenly when he realized he was being too obedient, and yelled, “What for, Boss!”
Xing Conglian was heartbroken, but Lin Chen slightly lowered his head, looking regretful.
He could only bear the pain and hand the canvas bag to Wang Chao, emphasizing, “Your cat!”
Wang Chao was shocked. “What!”
“Only yours at night!” Xing Conglian stressed.
The pet hospital was where Duan Yang once worked.
Time had changed, and the doctor was now a very cute girl. She patiently examined the cat, gave it a bath, dewormed it, and told them to come back for vaccinations in a few days.
Apart from being overweight, their cat had no problems, which greatly pleased Xing Conglian.
Wang Chao, to assert his authority over Xiao Wang, paid all the examination fees and bought various cat supplies, insisting he could carry the cat litter, cat food, litter box, and the cat itself back home without any issues.
Xing Conglian had no objection.
It was already dark. Lin Chen was still holding hands with him; his handsome face held an indescribable meaning in the hazy night.
Xing Conglian thought back to Lin Chen’s reaction to the cat and suddenly realized he might have overlooked something.
“You… don’t actually like cats?” he asked.
Lin Chen looked at him helplessly. “No, I like them.”
“Then…”
“Why didn’t I help you and instead let you give the cat to Wang Chao?” Lin Chen asked.
“Mm.”
Lin Chen smiled, stopped, and ruffled Xing Conglian’s hair.
Under the dim streetlight, this simple gesture almost made Xing Conglian’s heart leap out of his throat.
Just then, Lin Chen leaned forward. His gentle breath brushed Xing Conglian’s ear.
“Because, the only one who can sleep with you is me, Captain Xing.”
He couldn’t let out a mournful cry; he just silently shed tears as if trying to drain the blood from his eyes. When this person went mad, he suppressed his madness, suffering silently.
After sitting for the duration of an incense stick, he straightened the young Shi Jingzhi’s collar for an entire hour and then took his hand.
“I’m sorry about earlier. Let’s go back.”
On the edge of the cliff of destruction, the blood in Yin Ci’s eyes had faded compared to before. His voice was no longer as gentle as when he was crazy; it sounded bitter, cold, but with a touch of sincerity.
The changes were subtle that a young child wouldn’t be able to distinguish them.
Shi Jingzhi’s neck turned red; he was relatively unharmed, at least not to the extent of triggering his “object addiction”. Children had limited understanding, so how could they know that they had just experienced a near life-or-death situation? He only thought that a flower had cured his benefactor and saved him from a beating, considering himself quite extraordinary.
So, he immediately cast aside the losses he had just suffered and, with his other hand, made gestures and acted spoiled, immediately asking for fish.
Yin Ci patted his head, his eyes filled with mixed feelings.
That night, Yin Ci no longer casually fed him with whatever food was available; he started to cook proper meals.
Sliced fish, lightly grilled, paired with sweet and sour juice, tasted soft and sweet when eaten. Fresh small fish with their internal organs removed were cooked until crispy by the fire. The texture of the root vegetables was dense and fragrant, complemented by tender wild shoots, providing an incredibly refreshing taste.
The young Shi Jingzhi ate without knowing what time it was. If it weren’t for Yin Ci providing perfectly balanced meals, he would have vomited from overeating.
This time, Yin Ci didn’t inquire about “fate” or “answers”. He quietly stayed by the side, continuing to meditate. The air of hostility and killing intent gradually dissipated. Yin Ci’s expression became calm, revealing a cold and jade-like temperament.
After finishing the meal, The young Shi Jingzhi was filled with emotions, tears welling up in his eyes—he had never eaten such delicious food in his life, nor had he ever seen someone as attractive as Yin Ci.
In this secluded forest, this person was a demon slayer with earth-shattering abilities. And he could also cook a great meal; he must be an immortal in human form.
Previously, the immortal1 had blood on his body, surely indicating that he was injured somewhere.
The three-year-old child felt that he had discovered the truth—he had been saved by a god1 and owed a tremendous debt of gratitude. But the god was a bit fierce, and if he didn’t repay the kindness properly, there was a chance he might be abandoned.
1Note: There’s two terms being used. He’s calling Yin Ci himself an immortal [xian ren] (仙人) which is usually refer to someone who had ascended through cultivation, while this term god [shen xian] (神仙) is more of a general term referring to a celestial/divine, encompassing deities, gods, spirits, and even immortals.
Thinking of this, the young Shi Jingzhi felt a sense of crisis. Whenever he had a chance, he would scrutinize Yin Ci with his eyes, searching for opportunities to repay the favor.
Yin Ci didn’t know what was going on in the little brat’s head. With the night growing colder, he drew the child closer to him, and the two of them fell asleep under the maple tree.
Everything was calm. The tiger demon that had escaped earlier pretended as if nothing had happened. Taking advantage of the dark night and strong winds, it leisurely returned for a free meal. In exchange, it generously lent out its fur, providing a warm tiger meat mattress for both of them.
The moon and stars were thinning. As the moon started to set, the sun rose.
At that time, the young Shi Jingzhi didn’t know anything yet, but he had a natural talent for understanding people’s hearts.
The young Shi Jingzhi was particularly sensitive to those fluctuating emotions. He closely followed that trace of blood, and whenever Yin Ci showed any signs of unnatural hostility, he would be the first to rush forward, carefully embracing Yin Ci until the pain in his eyes subsided.
If Yin Ci clenched his fists and cut his palms, the young Shi Jingzhi would forcefully pry open his hands and earnestly protect them with his own two hands.
If Yin Ci fell into a frenzy, with sword qi about to erupt, the young Shi Jingzhi would pounce on him and straighten out the black hair that should have flowed like a waterfall.
And if Yin Ci couldn’t calm down no matter what, the young Shi Jingzhi would resort to his last trump card—
The demon flower from a few days ago had scared him half to death, and he didn’t dare touch it anymore. Instead, he would save red leaves and offer Yin Ci a few beautiful leaf “flowers”.
And finally, he would accompany it with a full-force hug.
Now it seemed that these attempts to appease were naive, bordering on foolishness. However, for some unknown reason, Yin Ci was truly pulled out of the abyss by this childish helping hand.
Day after day, the blood in Yin Ci’s eyes grew fainter. The young Shi Jingzhi was quite satisfied—even though he still couldn’t find the wound, it was indeed slowly healing.
Later on, the god even allowed him to sleep on his chest.
The young Shi Jingzhi loved being in the god’s embrace. The faint, cold fragrance enveloped him, and when held by the god, an unprecedented sense of security came from all directions. It felt like the least worrisome place in the world.
Delicious food, beautiful scenery, and the company of a god. He could go wherever he wanted and play however he liked, never feeling so relaxed before.
When Yin Ci was feeling better, he would even play those childish games with the young Shi Jingzhi. Even when he wasn’t feeling well, Yin Ci would quietly stay nearby, watching him frolic in the soft fallen leaves.
There was only one worry left for the young Shi Jingzhi.
Once the god’s injuries were healed, would everything come to an end?
Was he useless to him?
In the young Shi Jingzhi’s vague memory, “kindness” was a scarce commodity that required fair trade. Without merit, one wouldn’t receive rewards, so he was always cautious and careful, trying to gain a little from others.
People who were kind to him were already few and far between, and no one would be kind to him without reason.
Children’s ability to be anxious and hesitant was far beyond that of adults. The young Shi Jingzhi was frightened by his own speculations, unable to sleep. The “object addiction” that had remained calm for several days gradually resurfaced.
He couldn’t eat with peace of mind; he always felt like it would be his last meal and had to eat more, even if it made his stomach uncomfortable. He couldn’t fully enjoy playing either, always feeling that the person beside him would return to the heavens at any moment. If he couldn’t relax for half an hour, he would crawl into Yin Ci’s arms for a while to make sure he was still there.
This suspicion almost drove the young Shi Jingzhi mad. He had no power to control everything he wanted, but he feared that his desires would be too heavy, causing the god to dislike him, so he resorted to biting his fingers hard.
Fortunately, the “god” gradually recovered, spoke more, and understood why he was so timid.
“With your current state, you’re not exactly normal either.”
Yin Ci pulled his blood-soaked finger out of his mouth and carefully bandaged it. His gaze was clear, with only a faint hint of red left in his eyes.
The young Shi Jingzhi hugged him with a sense of grievance, burying his face in Yin Ci’s chest, unable to break free no matter how hard he tried.
“Alright, stop biting your fingers. Let me teach you a mantra. Remember it well.” Yin Ci ruffled his hair. “Evil spirits roam in the Juyi Valley, but I won’t abandon you.”
However, the gentler Yin Ci was towards the young Shi Jingzhi, the more the latter broke down. He seemed unable to handle this continuous stream of kindness and refused to let go, his face turning red with frustration.
Yin Ci looked at the young Shi Jingzhi in such a state and quickly realized what was going on. He frowned and looked at the trembling child.
“…Kid, has no one ever cared for you?”
The young Shi Jingzhi looked utterly confused.
Yin Ci sighed and lightly flicked his head. “This Seat doesn’t have any intention of making any deals with you. If I’m kind to you, then that’s how it is. If I have to gain something from a three-year-old, I’m either worthless or a beast.”
The young Shi Jingzhi covered his head that was flicked, growing even more perplexed.
His little world, based on the theory of “fair exchange”, had been functioning for quite some time but was now on the verge of collapse. Could there truly be “goodness” in the world that didn’t require trade?
Could he really trust this person?
Seeing the young Shi Jingzhi stunned, Yin Ci simply hugged him tightly. “The fact that you and I can meet in this desolate place can be considered fate. Since no one has cared for you, how about being This Seat’s son?”
After a while, Yin Ci let out a bitter smile and added, “This Seat doesn’t even need you to take care of me in my old age.”
The young Shi Jingzhi didn’t have a clear concept of “parents”, but he understood what it should mean and grasped the implicit meaning in Yin Ci’s words—the god genuinely wanted to protect him and didn’t require his constant efforts to please.
The sincerity in the god’s gaze was different from the people who used to deceive and placate him.
In a fleeting moment, something seemed to break in his heart. Unfamiliar emotions surged forth, starting with a sense of grievance, followed by an incredibly tender feeling. At that moment, the young Shi Jingzhi couldn’t distinguish it clearly.
He was busy shedding tears, sobbing silently, and indiscriminately wiping his tears on Yin Ci’s sleeve.
“Alright, Little Mute, I’ll take it as you’ve agreed. Don’t bite your fingers anymore. After reciting the ‘Purifying Words’, you can go play.”
But the young Shi Jingzhi didn’t let go; he clung tightly to Yin Ci, as if a drowning person clinging to the last piece of driftwood.
It was like a newborn bird opening its eyes for the first time, and he had never felt so at peace.
The days that followed felt like a dream.
Even when the young Shi Jingzhi grew up, he had never experienced such a feeling—he didn’t need to worry about anything, nor did he need to second-guess anyone. And he could be genuinely kind to that person, placing complete trust and dependence without reservation.
The gentle breeze of early autumn, the serene sunlight.
Those were the best moments of his life.
After nearly half a month, the blood in Yin Ci’s eyes had almost faded away. Even so, the young Shi Jingzhi didn’t let any of Yin Ci’s low moods go unnoticed; he always found an opportunity to ask for a hug.
And Yin Ci would respond with a smile.
The adult Shi Jingzhi watched, lost in a daze, as his heart ached spontaneously.
…If only he could leave with Yin Ci and disappear from the world, how wonderful would that be. Even if he suffered from a strange illness and couldn’t live past thirty, it would still be a fulfilling life.
Unfortunately, he knew in advance that the ending of the story wouldn’t be like that.
He watched as the autumn colors grew richer, playing like he usually did during his childhood. Suddenly, the earth trembled violently, and dry leaves rustled while debris flew through the air.
A malicious figure emerged from the ground, nearly knocking him off his feet.
In an instant, the stench of demonic qi exploded and soared, surpassing the six-eyed tiger demon by a hundredfold.
The Juyi Valley was originally a royal hunting ground that collected various strange monsters. But later, they lost control of the monsters, and the royal family could no longer manage them, so they simply let it go. It was rumored that there were many colossal monsters in the valley, sleeping year-round, their forms unknown to mortals.
The young Shi Jingzhi, perhaps due to some connection with fate or maybe because his qi was truly delicious, had attracted such evil monsters.
The colossal monster was as tall as two adult men, resembling some kind of lizard. Its skin was covered in brown tumors, and it had a large round black eye in the front of its head. Opening its mouth wide, its sharp teeth struck chaotically, emitting a saliva that exuded a suffocating stench.
A three-year-old child had never witnessed such a grand spectacle before; even a mere flower ball could cause him to have nightmares for seven days. When this thing crawled in front of him, the young Shi Jingzhi’s hair stood on end.
Fortunately, the phrase “crying for father and mother*” still applied to him to some extent.
*(哭爹喊娘) Idiom referring to someone who’s panicking or crying out for help in a desperate situation, to a point of an embarrassing state (often used derogatorily to highlight cowardice).
With courage, the young Shi Jingzhi ran away as fast as he could. And in the next moment, Yin Ci indeed descended from the sky. The sword qi of the Bone Sweeping technique struck directly at the round giant eye.
With a muffled sound, the murky liquid from the eye splattered out.
The colossal monster let out a painful roar, while its body still charged towards the young Shi Jingzhi, solidly taking in a few strikes of the sword qi.
Yin Ci’s movements were graceful and elegant, striking precisely and beautifully.
Even without any inner force, facing such an advantageous opponent, Yin Ci didn’t show the slightest intention of retreating. He had no sword in his hand, and the sword qi was no longer as chaotic as before. Only his black sleeves fluttered in the wind, launching sharp and concentrated attacks.
Like invisible whips, they descended like a storm, each strike accompanied by a fine spray of blood.
The colossal monster had thick skin, but it couldn’t withstand such sharp and fierce attacks. It recoiled, relying on its massive body, relentlessly charging toward the young Shi Jingzhi, determined not to give up without taking a bite.
Seeing that thing relentlessly chasing after the young Shi Jingzhi, Yin Ci let out a cold snort.
He stood not far from the young Shi Jingzhi, intercepting the monster’s path, and instead of retreating, he engaged in close combat with the colossal monster.
As it approached, the power of the sword techniques grew stronger. Freed from madness, the sword qi moved at will, and the attacks were quite effective. Under the fierce assault, the one-eyed giant monster was injured, losing a significant portion of its flesh, revealing its white skeletal frame.
This roadblock couldn’t be bypassed, and it finally stopped in its tracks.
In the flickering dark light, the demonic qi surged. A purplish-black tongue shot out from its mouth, its edges sharp and teeth menacing, moving as fast as lightning.
Without inner force for protection, that human body was as fragile as paper in front of it.
Yin Ci was too close to evade. From the neck to the waist, he lost half of his body in an instant.
The “immortal” vitality ceased to exist, and blood gushed out wildly, with his organs seemingly about to spill out. The giant monster, feeling triumphant, let out a low roar and turned its attention to the young Shi Jingzhi.
But Yin Ci didn’t step aside, nor did he fall down.
He stood in his incomplete state, letting the blood rain down upon him like a storm. Then he raised his head and gave the giant monster a bloody smile.
Amidst the falling red leaves and scattered strands of hair, he once again charged forward.
At the edge of that terrifying wound, numerous blood-colored fine roots emerged. They quickly formed new organs, bones, and flesh, instantly restoring Yin Ci’s half-body.
Truly more eerie than the demonic monster itself.
Several even more fierce sword qi rose, with the momentum to completely destroy the giant monster, causing it to cry out in agony.
The opponent couldn’t be killed or defeated, and it had lost too much blood. However, it realized too late as Yin Ci’s offensive became more erratic, displaying an unstoppable momentum.
In the end, it fell on the path of escape, collapsing into a heap of severely wounded flesh.
The young Shi Jingzhi, filled with wonder, stared at Yin Ci’s figure, completely captivated. He was securely enveloped in a sense of peace.
That person was truly an immortal, the only immortal he knew.
His immortal was invincible, and no one could bring him down.
He didn’t need to fear anything.
The young Shi Jingzhi stumbled and rushed toward Yin Ci, who skillfully lifted him up, allowing him to sit on his arm. Shi Jingzhi tightly grasped the cool, smooth long hair, regretting his inability to speak.
After a moment, he held onto Yin Ci’s neck tightly, trembling with all his strength, his body shaking with excitement.
Yin Ci, considering the child’s young age and being frightened by the monster, gently patted Shi Jingzhi’s back. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.”
However, the child still refused to let go and trembled even more intensely.
“How about I make a feast with all fish for you tonight?”
“…Or should I go back and play hide-and-seek with you?”
Shi Jingzhi continued to tremble, clinging to him.
Yin Ci pondered for a moment and then tore him away from himself, looking directly into those amber-colored eyes.
“We’ve known each other for so long, and I haven’t properly granted you anything. How about this? I’ll fulfill one of your wishes. Is that okay?”
Shi Jingzhi finally stopped trembling. He stared at Yin Ci without blinking, forgetting even how to nod or shake his head.
Ignoring his torn black clothes, Yin Ci lowered his eyes and smiled slightly. Bathed in the warm autumn sunlight, that smile carried a hint of warmth.
“Little Mute, since you can’t speak your wish, This Seat will grant you a life free of worries and a hundred years of longevity.”
The young Shi Jingzhi hesitated for a moment before reaching out one hand and pressing it against Yin Ci’s cheek. Feeling the warmth in his palm, he dared not let out a breath.
With blood scattered like maple leaves, it pricked his eyes.
“…But you have to be a good child and not let down those around you,” Yin Ci added in a low voice.
Shi Jingzhi finally regained control of his mind. He vigorously nodded, tightly gripping the long hair in his hand and burying his head in the crook of Yin Ci’s neck.
The scent of the immortal was very pleasant. He closed his eyes, and his heart leaped with joy.
Born lonely, he had now touched an unbreakable and rock-solid affection. At least in this moment, he was free from worries and fears.
In a daze, he felt that this happiness was simply not of this world.
It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. It was a thousand times better than roasted fish when starving or sweet fruits before dying of thirst.
The next moment, intense heat and severe pain struck together.
The young Shi Jingzhi immediately spewed out a mouthful of black blood and convulsed in Yin Ci’s arms. His arm was instantly covered in dark blue blood vessels, and his whole body seemed to be falling apart.
Yin Ci was startled by his unusual condition.
He almost immediately let go of Shi Jingzhi, took his pulse, and furrowed his brows tighter and tighter. Then he tried to pick up Shi Jingzhi, who let out a series of non-human screams from his broken throat and vomited a large pool of black blood.
The child’s fever was severe, and his illness was bizarre and not easy to touch or move. Yin Ci quickly made a decision. He placed the child on a soft pile of fallen leaves and, without hesitation, cut open his wrist, soaked it in blood, and applied it to Shi Jingzhi’s forehead.
“We don’t have time to search for medicine here. There’s a medicine shop in the town outside the mountains. I’ll go and be back in no time.”
Yin Ci’s calmness in his words was on the verge of collapsing.
“Wait for me here. It won’t take half an hour for me to return.”
After saying that, he hastily dragged the new dead giant monster. Despite its miserable death, it still lingered with demonic qi. Even if he wasn’t nearby, with the monster’s corpse guarding Shi Jingzhi, no other monster would dare approach.
Finally, Yin Ci gently touched Shi Jingzhi’s burning face, activated his qinggong, and disappeared in an instant.
The young Shi Jingzhi lay alone on the fallen leaves, feeling the warmth around him gradually fade away, and the autumn wind suddenly turned colder. He longed to grab onto the hem of Yin Ci’s clothes and keep him by his side. But in the midst of the intense pain, he lost the strength to lift his hand, unable to even let out a cry.
The nearby demon corpse still emitted heat, its appearance repulsive. However, Shi Jingzhi dared not close his eyes. He held onto his eyelids, counting his heartbeat little by little, wishing time would pass more quickly.
Unfortunately, it seemed that fate had destined him for parting.
Not long after, a gust of magic suddenly rose, and three people and a dog appeared before him. Leading the group was a dog demon, with steam rising from a hole in its head.
Behind the dog demon was an elderly man with white beard and a withered appearance.
He glanced at Shi Jingzhi and spoke with a grave tone, “Since the establishment of Great Yun, no one has ever had their ‘fixed desire’ before the age of fifteen. This child is only three… It seems that I have won the gamble against the emperor.”
“If you really wanted to protect him, why did Master inform the emperor early that this child is a ‘catastrophe to the nation’? If not for that, the Emperor wouldn’t have decided to take action so quickly.”
Following beside the old man was a familiar face—Jiang Youyue, respectfully asked.
“The Emperor no longer believes in us, and he must have already sought another way to calculate things. If we concealed this matter, we would only offend the Emperor*.”
*Clarity: Dragon’s countenance/face (龙颜). In this context, he’s not referring to just the emperor, but also the emperor’s face (and, by extension, the monarchy itself).
Jiang Youyue suddenly realized. “So that’s why Master deliberately set up this gamble? Leaving this child in Juyi Valley for a full month, allowing fate to determine life or death… And the Emperor agreed?”
“Yes. His Majesty, the True Dragon Emperor*, firmly believes in the divine favor bestowed upon Great Yun. He will never admit that fate stands on the side of the ‘catastrophe to the nation’.”
*(真龙天子) Term used referring to the emperor. Back in the old days, it was believed the emperor was a real dragon that descended from the sky (the Son of Heaven).
The old man sighed.
“Just now, there was another life around this child. He must have encountered a troublesome master—using the body of a great monster to protect him and using blood instead of water to apply to his forehead. That master acts obsessively and won’t easily let go of this matter. Fortunately, I was prepared in advance… Qi Zhe, come here.”
Apart from the old man and Jiang Youyue, only a child remained among the three.
That child was about the same age as Shi Jingzhi, dressed in the robes of a disciple of the Imperial Preceptor. He was clever and bright, with round and shining eyes.
“Master?” The young child looked up, smiling innocently.
A tinge of sadness flashed in the old man’s eyes.
His withered hand pressed against the child’s neck, and the child collapsed softly, instantly losing his breath. Without even looking at the body, the old man walked to the monster corpse, pointing at a piece of flesh dripping with blood with one finger.
Numerous visible and invisible magic formations floated up from the monster’s corpse, gradually converging into two clusters of red light. After a while, the clusters of light dispersed like ghostly flames, enveloping Shi Jingzhi and the child’s corpse separately.
In a matter of a few breaths, the clusters of light burst open.
In an instant, the dirt on Shi Jingzhi’s face and the clothes on his body were exchanged with the child’s remains. Apart from the terrifying blood streaks covering his body, he instantly appeared much cleaner.
The old man personally lifted Shi Jingzhi while the child’s remains were dragged by the dog demon and placed in Shi Jingzhi’s original position.
“Huo Luo, eat.”
The dog demon trembled in fear of the great monster’s corpse, whimpering as it picked up its tail, wanting to retreat quickly. The old man shook his head and cast several spells, causing the dog demon to lose its sanity and madly tear and devour the child’s remains.
Although his mind felt dull, and at this moment, he was horrified and chilled to the bone, the young Shi Jingzhi hadn’t lost consciousness—
In less than half an incense stick’s worth of time, there were only tattered cloth fragments left on the fallen leaves, along with unrecognizable flesh and shattered bones. There was no trace of the head remaining. The tiny stomach had been bitten off for the most part, revealing undigested grilled fish and crushed fruits.
Even the residue in the stomach had been exchanged by the spell.
“In this way, that person shouldn’t investigate further.”
The old man spoke indifferently.
“Just in case, the surrounding mountain households should also be taken care of properly to prevent that person from digging deeper.”
Jiang Youyue respectfully lowered his head and said, “Master’s foresight is admirable. However, regarding this child’s fixed desire—”
“This child is young. It would be enough to seal him here. I will have a detailed discussion with the Emperor. As for the future…”
In the next moment, the group of people disappeared on the spot, leaving only a sentence drifting with the autumn leaves.
“…Obey the heavenly mandate. Let’s wait and see what fate has in store.”
Fresh blood flowed over the fallen leaves, covering the fabric stained with Yin Ci’s blood, which gradually turned cold.
The autumn scenery remained unchanged in this place, except that there was no trace of vitality left.
In autumn, the sky was high and the clouds faint, while the maple forest was dyed red.
But the three-year-old brat didn’t know how to appreciate it. He only knew how to cry and walk and was on the verge of crying himself breathless.
The sensation of becoming a human-shaped kite was quite mysterious, as the adult Sect Master Shi had realized long ago. Perhaps it was the effect of breaking through the ban, but this place was somewhat similar to Yan Budu’s “state of mind”. He was being dragged along like a wandering ghost, following his childhood self.
All the thoughts and feelings of that young child were transmitted into his consciousness. There weren’t many chances to relive the past. Compared to lamenting the past, Sect Master Shi found some amusement in it—after all, he knew the outcome in advance; this child wouldn’t die no matter what.
So Sect Master Shi focused his attention and carefully observed his past self.
For some reason, at that time, he couldn’t make a sound, only gasping for breath and sniffling. The young Shi Jingzhi stumbled among the fallen leaves, and with a slight misstep, he would fall and struggle to get up on his own.
After crying for a long time, he finally realized that silently shedding tears was of no use; no one would come to rescue him.
So he had to suppress his panic and concentrate on dealing with his fears—not far from him, something let out a terrible howl, clearly the sound of a beast with claws.
Three-year-old Shi Jingzhi had cried for so long that his head was spinning, and his legs were weak. Not to mention escaping, he couldn’t even walk far. Instinctively, he found a tree hole and squeezed his whole body into it, using fallen leaves to block the entrance and not daring to breathe too loudly.
The beast stopped howling, and he didn’t dare to peek. At that time, he was both tired and scared, so he quietly curled up in the hole, half asleep and half unconscious, throughout the night.
The next day, it was hard to say whether he woke up due to hunger or thirst.
Children would get hungry quickly, let alone go a whole day without food or water, while also exerting a considerable amount of physical energy. He was like a naive young cub that strayed too far from its nest and was destined to die from thirst.
Under “object addiction”, the torment of hunger and thirst was a hundred times harsher than usual.
This time, he realized the value of water and dared not cry anymore. Awkwardly crawling out of the tree hole, the young Shi Jingzhi found a moderately sized tree branch as a makeshift cane and began walking unsteadily.
It wasn’t like there weren’t any brightly colored fruits in the forest; he had tasted them. The fruits were bitter and numbing in his mouth, clearly not edible. Some fruits pecked by birds hung on the branches, but the trunks were too sturdy, and the branches were too high, creating an insurmountable barrier.
After walking on an empty stomach for a few hours, he found a slightly rotten mouse. The will to survive prompted him to open his mouth, but the smell of the dead mouse was so foul that he couldn’t eat much before vomiting.
With great difficulty, he mustered the courage to open his mouth, but instead of alleviating his hunger, it almost made him vomit all the water out, leaving him seeing stars.
He had to find some water to drink first, then search for something to eat.
Otherwise, he would die here.
At that moment, he still didn’t understand what “death” meant, but that intense craving was already active and forced him to maintain his fear. Guided by the will to survive, the young Shi Jingzhi steadfastly moved in a certain direction.
Even if he didn’t know what lay ahead, he didn’t dare stop there.
To stay alive, he had to find something. Like a river, a path to escape, or better yet, the scent of a living person.
He didn’t know how long he had been walking; blisters formed on the soles of his feet, his lips were cracked and bleeding, and his stomach rumbled like a drum. The young Shi Jingzhi’s vision gradually filled with stars, and he wavered in place, barely having the strength to stand upright.
It was at that moment that he caught a whiff of food.
Not the smell of fresh blood or ripe fruits. He smelled the tantalizing aroma of roasted oil, kissed by fire, so delightful it felt like a dream.
Overwhelmed with astonishment and joy, his legs, like two soft noodles, regained strength. So he mustered his last bit of energy and moved on all fours toward the direction of the scent, fearing that it might suddenly disappear, leaving him stranded in this perilous forest.
The surrounding fallen leaves fluttered, appearing as a blur of gold and red. His eyes were fixated on that thin thread of vitality —
“Little brat, do you not value your life to come to a place like this?” a voice sounded.
Although the person’s tone was icy, to the young child at that time, it was like heavenly music.
Not far away, that thread of “vitality” pierced straight into his eyes.
In that instant, Sect Master Shi felt a layer of cold sweat form on his body. Forget about spectating and seeking amusement; the scene before him was absurd to the extreme, as if a bucket of icy water was poured over his head.
The face of the black-clothed person was no longer blurry.
This “vitality” that arrived at his moment of death had the exact same face as Yin Ci.
In an instant, the fully grown Shi Jingzhi felt a chill run through his body, a tingling sensation on his back, and he was on the verge of trembling. Deep down, it felt as if someone was pushing him in circles, returning him to the starting point.
That person leaned against a resting tiger demon, exuding an aura of alcohol and blood. He played with an empty wine jar, grinding the fallen leaves into fine and crisp sounds. His long hair, resembling silk, cascaded over his loose black clothes.
The voice had the same tone, with an identical demeanor. The aura was as icy as snow, and the chilling hostility was awe-inspiring.
Even if they were father and son, or master and disciple, there would never be such an identical display of power and aura. Shi Jingzhi had accompanied Yin Ci for many days and understood in his heart that he couldn’t be mistaken.
It turned out that this karmic bond had been planted more than twenty years ago.
For twenty years, Yin Ci’s appearance hadn’t changed at all. Had he drunk immortal wine, or was there… some other reason?
If there was one difference, it was that the current black-clothed person seemed noticeably colder than the Yin Ci Sect Master Shi knew.
The black-clothed figure in front of him was more like an empty paper shell, with a touch of madness evident in his features. He exuded a heavy sense of death, resembling an old man on the verge of decay. Although he smiled at this moment, there was no trace of laughter in his dark eyes.
The specter from the future stood still in the fading light, with a lingering cold sweat on his back. He stared at the person so close yet seemingly far away, his lips slightly trembling. “A’Ci…?”
However, the Yin Ci from his memories didn’t respond to his call, and the past version of himself didn’t continue to examine the other person.
The three-year-old child had no understanding of appreciating beauty or analyzing situations. The young Shi Jingzhi stared intently, completely ignoring Yin Ci’s mocking remark—it went in one ear and out the other. He had no mind to pay attention to the “stranger” in front of him and immediately pounced like a tiger, heading towards the remnants of roasted snake not far away.
He anxiously tore off a bit of meat that remained on the bones and stuffed it all into his mouth, wishing he could chew the bones into pieces and swallow them. When the burning sensation in his stomach subsided a bit, he grabbed an empty wine jar with a remaining bottom and didn’t care about the overwhelming smell of alcohol; he just wanted to get some water for himself.
To his surprise, as he was about to stick his head into the jar, Yin Ci pulled him away. With just two fingers, Yin Ci lifted him up and, incidentally, finished off the remaining wine in the jar.
“This is poisoned wine. Don’t drink it,” Yin Ci casually remarked.
The child didn’t understand the difference between “real wine” and “fake wine”. The young Shi Jingzhi, unable to find any water, had tears welling up in his eyes. He pitifully clung to the hem of Yin Ci’s clothes, making dry “ah ah” sounds in his throat.
Yin Ci glanced at him expressionlessly and pulled out a wild fruit from his sleeve, tossing it casually. The action was more like dismissing a small animal that had accidentally strayed into this place than taking care of a human child.
“Finish eating and then get lost.”
The voice was low and carried a sense of roughness, like a blade with bloodstains rubbing against it, giving off an ominous coarseness.
The wild fruit was moist and sweet. The young Shi Jingzhi gobbled it down, even sucking the fruit seed clean. Then, disregarding the massive tiger demon, he happily toddled over to Yin Ci’s side and began tugging at his clothes.
When he grew a bit older and learned some martial arts theory, he would understand that this behavior was essentially equivalent to courting death—
Yin Ci’s state was clearly abnormal.
He stood in front of the tiger demon, his eyes fixed on emptiness, with a mixture of hostility and bloodlust swirling around him, almost overflowing. His once beautiful face was pale, tinged with a distinct blood color in the whites of his eyes.
A typical manifestation of pent-up anger and madness.
An abnormal pressure surged, causing the tiger demon to open its six eyes and all its fur to stand on end. It struggled to get up and ran away.
Yin Ci’s bloodlust grew even stronger.
He paid no attention to the fleeing tiger demon. Instead, he leaned against the large maple tree behind him, sitting on the ground again and adjusting his qi and calming his breath. With only a child by his side, Yin Ci didn’t bother hiding his emotions. His face held a mixture of hatred and sorrow, as if all his thoughts were filled with despair.
For a moment, sword qi scattered, dispersing countless red leaves.
The sword stance vaguely carried the aura of the Bone Sweeping Sword technique, yet it was completely out of control, filled with madness.
However, the bold little kid wasn’t afraid of anything. Since he hadn’t managed to obtain more fruits, he simply changed his strategy.
Adhering to the principle of “as long as the green mountains are preserved, there’s no need to worry about firewood”, he tightly grasped Yin Ci’s robe and nestled against Yin Ci’s waist. He acted as if the immense evil and fierce sword qi beside him didn’t exist, squinting his eyes as if ready to fall asleep.
Yin Ci’s evil qi was also suppressed by this fearless little thing.
He glanced at the dirt-covered child beside his leg and a hint of bewilderment flashed across his face. Then, he grabbed the back of the kid’s clothes and lifted him up, seemingly wanting to shake some courage out of him.
The three-year-old child had a face covered in dirt, licked his lips a few times, and laughed at Yin Ci fearlessly.
The young Shi Jingzhi’s mind was filled with the sweet taste of the fruit from earlier, and there was still a lingering sweetness in his mouth. He felt that the person in front of him was a kind and familiar living Bodhisattva. So he opened his short arms and flapped them with all his might, expressing his extreme fondness and desire for peaceful coexistence.
If there were more fruits, that would be even better.
Yin Ci gazed at the child in front of him with a dazed expression, completely subdued by this young and reckless fugitive—he seemed to regain some clarity, no longer going mad, but furrowing his brow and handing over another wild fruit.
The little brat devoured it eagerly, then used the edge of Yin Ci’s sleeve to wipe his mouth.
This time, the young Shi Jingzhi wasn’t satiated, but he was no longer famished either. He had finally escaped the torment of “objection addiction” and the boundless fear that accompanied it. With great difficulty, he found a moment of peace, maintaining the posture of being held by Yin Ci and dozing off on the spot.
Yin Ci: “…”
He put the little brat aside, but the person suddenly rolled over and snuggled back to Yin Ci’s leg. Clinging to that warmth, afraid that the living Bodhisattva would abandon him.
Yin Ci lowered his eyes with a complicated expression.
He quietly watched the young Shi Jingzhi for a moment, as if giving up something, then slowly rested his head against the trunk of the maple tree and closed his eyes. The latter didn’t think much about it and simply hugged Yin Ci’s leg, falling asleep peacefully.
The sunset sank, and silence enveloped the surroundings. If it weren’t for the sword qi and marks left on the ground, the previous madness would seem like a mere illusion.
The next day, Yin Ci’s bloodshot eyes became even more intense, but compared to yesterday’s frenzy, he seemed to maintain his sanity.
He began to talk to the young Shi Jingzhi. However, his tone was more akin to studying a completely new species than the warmth and kindness of an adult.
“Your voice… Hm, you accidentally ate poisonous grass, but it will recover after some time.”
Yin Ci seemed to have made up his mind to shift his focus, finding something to say.
“Are you a child from the mountains? You don’t look like an abandoned child, so how did you end up in Juyi Valley? Where are your parents?”
Shi Jingzhi tilted his head and pondered for a moment, but apparently couldn’t come up with an answer suitable for outsiders. He didn’t even manage to gesture, only vigorously shaking his head, almost shaking it off.
Yin Ci suddenly realized. With a look of pity, his face was saying, “It turns out you’re a mute.”
He lost interest in communicating with the mute and continued to sit cross-legged, closing his eyes and focusing on regulating his breath. However, while dealing with his possession*, he didn’t forget to prepare some food for the little brat by his side.
*The term being used (which is also the title of this chapter) is (入魔) which means “falling into demonic possession”. It’s commonly used to describe a state in which a person, usually in the context of cultivation, becomes overwhelmed with negative emotions, loses control, and succumbs to darkness or evil influences. It signifies a state of being possessed or influenced by evil forces, leading to erratic behavior, loss of rationality, and potential harm to oneself or others. || In terms of cultivation, it means succumbing to your inner demon (which causes qi deviation that leads to “possession”).
On this day, the young Shi Jingzhi not only got sweet fruits but also had the fortune to eat a few grilled fish. The fish was rich in oil, with crispy skin and fragrant meat. He ate with such delight that he almost swallowed his own tongue.
Having eaten his fill, his tense nerves relaxed slightly. Shi Jingzhi took advantage of the situation and stuck close to Yin Ci, trying to gather more sense of security.
He leaned closer, and Yin Ci didn’t avoid him. Yin Ci only opened his bloodshot eyes slightly, quietly gazing at the child beside him. His expression held a subtle solemnity, revealing neither joy nor anger.
“Juyi Valley is a place where monsters gather, and suddenly a three-year-old child appears… Are you destined to bring me answers?”
As the young Shi Jingzhi stuffed his mouth with fish, he struggled to show a face of confusion.
Yin Ci sighed lightly and tugged at his own face. “Kid, after you finish eating and drinking, how about giving me some answers?”
At that moment, Shi Jingzhi was afraid of hunger and worried about not having his next meal. His whole being was consumed with eating, and he had no space to ponder Yin Ci’s words.
On the other side of time, the adult Shi Jingzhi stood silently. Unable to resist, he reached out his hand but couldn’t touch Yin Ci, who was only a step away.
Having been together all these days, he had never seen Yin Ci display such an expression—filled with sorrow and melancholy, almost fragile.
What destiny? What happened to you? …Why do you wear such an expression?
Each question clenched at his chest, causing a sour ache, but memories were just memories. No matter how vivid the recollections, the real “him” didn’t exist in this time and place.
The initial excitement of experiencing memories had faded away, leaving Shi Jingzhi with a bitter taste in his mouth.
On the second day of their encounter, Yin Ci suppressed his killing intent, and the two of them coexisted peacefully.
Unfortunately, on the third day, calamity struck.
Since ancient times, possession was never a state that could be easily quelled—no matter how hard Yin Ci tried to maintain his clarity, that clarity was only temporary.
Unresolved knots of the heart led to possession; it was only a matter of time. Yin Ci still teetered on the edge of madness, just one step away from crossing the threshold.
On this day, Yin Ci seemed to have lost interest in conversing with the young Shi Jingzhi, or perhaps he simply lacked the energy to speak. Apart from preparing food for the child by his side, he spent most of his time in a daze or in a state of drowsiness.
At noon, Yin Ci leaned against the maple tree as usual. He was afflicted by some torment; veins bulged on his neck and forehead, and his eyes completely turned into an ominous dark red.
He gradually hugged his arms tightly, with his ten fingers deeply embedded in his own flesh. Fresh blood instantly dyed his black clothes even darker. Around Yin Ci, the sword qi, filled with killing intent, began to disturb the surroundings, reducing all the nearby wine jars and bones to powder.
Once again, the young Shi Jingzhi approached. This time, Yin Ci ruthlessly opened Shi Jingzhi’s hand, struggling to form words.
“You… Wait for me here. Don’t wander… There are monsters.”
Yin Ci fell silent for a moment; his voice was tinged with a hint of paranoia, each word carrying traces of blood. It was partly an order and partly a plea.
“As long as you… wait here, I… will come back… Please wait for me… okay?”
Perhaps the emotions were too despairing. Even though the young Shi Jingzhi was only three years old at that time, he finally began to grasp the meaning. He hesitantly looked at Yin Ci and nodded cautiously.
Yin Ci sighed with relief, enduring immense pain as he unsteadily stood up. His gaze had started to become unfocused, forcibly squeezing out the last bit of clarity, and he forced himself to leave the big maple tree.
However, this was a memory from the young Shi Jingzhi. Even if the adult Shi Jingzhi wanted to follow Yin Ci, he couldn’t truly accompany him. He could only be trapped alongside his younger self, listening to the distant cries and howls of beasts and watching the flock of birds startled by the out-of-control sword qi.
Yin Ci struggled to resist the state of possession.
But possession stemmed from an ailment of the heart. Without breaking free from obsession and resolving the heart’s troubles, no matter how tenacious the struggle, it would only be a delay. Even though they were separated by a great distance, the adult Shi Jingzhi could still discern the despair that filled the air.
As a child, he didn’t fully grasp such emotions, but he could sense the pain and suppression in the person’s tone. Shi Jingzhi looked worriedly in the direction Yin Ci had left and began to wait obediently.
One hour passed, then two.
The distant cries became increasingly agonizing, but Yin Ci didn’t return. Shi Jingzhi sat with a furrowed brow for a while, feeling as restless like ants on a hot pan, and the worry on his face grew heavier.
After all, a child’s mind didn’t have many deep thoughts. He hesitated on his tiptoes for a moment, then clenched his teeth and ran out. The direction was opposite to the cries, resembling an escape.
As Sect Master Shi was dragged along, he was almost infuriated by his past self.
Did he have a special fondness for poking the tiger’s behind? Did he have to provoke his benefactor, who was halfway into possession?
Little did he know, he wasn’t simply running around for fun—following the path Yin Ci had taken to find him, the young Shi Jingzhi discovered a meadow full of wildflowers. This flower field wasn’t far from the big maple tree, a round trip that could be completed within the time it takes an incense stick to burn.
…Children’s thinking was truly simple.
If the other person was feeling uncomfortable, just give them something beautiful, and they would feel better.
The three-year-old firmly believed in this ironclad rule. Shi Jingzhi specifically chose the most beautiful flower, carefully tucking it into his embrace, his face filled with pride that said, “I’m going to repay the favor.”
However, as he walked back, something went wrong.
No matter which way he went, he couldn’t find the way he came from.
Gradually, the sun set in the west, and the mist thickened, carrying a strong demonic aura. Shi Jingzhi carefully held onto the flower while uncontrollably starting to sniffle.
Despite only being half an incense stick’s distance away, he walked for two or three hours and still couldn’t find his way back. It seemed that he was spinning in circles on the same forked path, and with each turn, the scenery along the road grew increasingly desolate.
In the end, he stepped on black mud formed by decaying leaves, and the forest in front of him turned into bare, decaying wood.
The fog was so thick that he couldn’t see the path ahead. The young Shi Jingzhi’s legs grew weak as he walked. He didn’t dare to stop or look back—whether it was an illusion or not, he always felt the sound of friction following him from behind.
The sky gradually darkened.
Finally, the young Shi Jingzhi couldn’t walk any further. He felt afraid and wronged, on the verge of giving up, so he turned around.
Behind him was a large cluster of writhing flowers.
Those flowers were as vibrant as blood, the same as the one he had just picked.
They bloomed one after another, with petals overlapping and forming a nearly perfect giant sphere. The sphere was as tall as a person, and below it were limb-like roots, supporting it as it moved slowly. In the mist, filled with shades of black, white, and gray, the flower ball shone with a dazzling red, occasionally pulsating like a freshly dissected heart.
The intoxicating floral fragrance spread, embracing like a warm, open hug.
At the first sight of the flower ball, at the moment when he smelled the fragrance, the young Shi Jingzhi was enchanted. He tottered towards the flower ball, getting closer and closer until he could see the animal corpses beneath the flowers.
His instinct screamed to escape, yet his body insisted on moving forward—
As if sensing the struggle of its prey, the fragrance of the flowers grew stronger. They were sweet and comforting, enveloping people in a drowsy state, making even the decaying flesh and bones appear lovely.
Three steps, two steps, one step.
Just before he embraced the flower ball, the mist instantly dissipated.
An extremely evil sword qi slashed through, slicing the flower petals into countless blood-like specks.
It was Yin Ci.
The flower ball was quite savvy. It suddenly let out a miserable scream, abandoning the tender flesh right in front of its mouth and slithered away, leaving behind a tangled mass of roots.
The sun had just set, and the stars were sparse in the sky, with the glow of twilight still lingering. The golden-red leaves returned to their places one by one, and the black mud underfoot turned back into soft fallen leaves.
The young Shi Jingzhi was extremely excited. Just as he turned around, he was startled by the increasingly intense killing intent from the other party.
Yin Ci’s whites of the eyes were still a crimson red, filled with surging blood. He lifted the young Shi Jingzhi’s collar and spoke in a dreamlike voice.
“Didn’t I tell you to wait for me?”
Not far away, the adult Shi Jingzhi trembled. It was the first time he had heard Yin Ci speak in this tone, and it was also the first time he had seen someone express such overwhelming killing intent with such gentleness.
Yin Ci didn’t come specifically to save him. This person had obviously suffered from an undeserved stimulus and was now in a semi-mad state where reason was lost.
The young Shi Jingzhi was also frightened and stunned. He could only stare blankly at Yin Ci, his eyes showing a hint of panic and confusion.
Yin Ci stood there, holding him up for a long time. His whole body trembled, and blood seemed to flow from his eyes. His dark eyes gradually became concealed by the color of blood.
At the same time, the sword qi around him didn’t stop. Its coverage grew larger and its speed faster, destroying everything in a nearly frantic manner.
“If you were going to betray me from the beginning, why did you nod in agreement? Ah, I understand now. So it was the will of heaven… You only came at this critical moment to accompany me to the edge of the cliff for the last time…”
Before Shi Jingzhi could react, Yin Ci’s tone became increasingly gentle.
Using only one hand, he held the young Shi Jingzhi suspended in mid-air, as if grasping a fragile bird. Yin Ci’s eyes were almost entirely blood-red, and his pupils were shattered.
“You came specifically to tell me that even the most innocent child has an inherent nature of ‘harming others’. The world is already so murky, and a human heart is useless… What a great answer. I like it very much.”
Yin Ci exerted some force with his fingers, each word dripping with blood, and his pupils were completely submerged in red. His voice became softer and softer, and the killing intent grew stronger.
“I should have learned from Yan Budu, taking lives and killing the innocent without hesitation. Perhaps I would be struck down by divine retribution—a thunderbolt that would cleanse me completely, bringing relief… Or maybe I should start with you.”
Instead of snapping Shi Jingzhi’s neck in one breath, he slowly closed his fingers, his hand trembling slightly.
The young Shi Jingzhi was being choked and couldn’t breathe.
He was naturally intelligent, but at this moment, he had the mindset of a child of only five or six years old. He couldn’t understand those words and sentences, and in his mind, there was only one simple thought—he had failed to keep his promise, and his benefactor was angry.
If this was someone else, he would probably have bitten down. But this was his benefactor who had saved his life, and he was the one who had wronged him first, so he couldn’t bite.
The young Shi Jingzhi scratched his chest hard, struggling to find the flower. He tightly grasped the wilting flower branch and passed it to Yin Ci’s arm, trying to give it to Yin Ci properly.
Despite it being increasingly difficult to breathe, he kept his gaze fixed on Yin Ci’s eyes, trying to make him understand his intentions.
This is the flower I’m giving you. It’s really beautiful.
I won’t run around like that again next time.
Don’t be sad.
Throughout, he didn’t scratch or pinch his own hand. The child’s eyes were pure, filled only with apology, concern, and a hint of instinctive panic.
Utterly pure.
Yin Ci’s hand pressed against his neck, but ultimately couldn’t tighten his grip.
After releasing Shi Jingzhi, for some reason, Yin Ci appeared even more desolate than before. He held the deformed wildflower, slumping onto a pile of fallen leaves.
The raging sword qi gradually dissipated, and Yin Ci exerted force with his hand. The flower was almost crushed, oozing a liquid that resembled blood.
His madness slowly faded, leaving behind only a mess and a sense of helplessness.
The young Shi Jingzhi believed that Yin Ci hadn’t calmed down yet.
He, like a grown-up, gently stroked Yin Ci’s head, and his hand naturally slid down the side of his face, tidying up the disheveled hair. Then, like he was afraid he hadn’t done enough, the young Shi Jingzhi opened his arms and cautiously hugged Yin Ci.
The last trace of evening glow faded away.
Yin Ci didn’t move or respond. The adult Shi Jingzhi stood by, silently watching this memory from over twenty years ago that was sealed away in dust.
Through the long passage of time, he finally managed to touch a fragment of Yin Ci’s past.
It was incredibly heavy and extremely cold.
He could only stand a step away, like a wandering soul, watching Yin Ci slowly close his eyes, tears stained with blood streaming down his face.
The young him knew nothing, and the present him couldn’t even touch a single strand of hair.
Having lived in this world for twenty-seven years, Shi Jingzhi had experienced bitterness, grievances, and melancholy, as well as resentment, hatred, and despair.
But never before had he felt such pure “sadness” filling his heart.
Kinky Thoughts:
Ah… There are so many good chapters in this novel. This one made me quite emotional.
