Hongjing Library hadn’t undergone renovation and still retained the style from the early days of the country’s founding, with lush greenery and abundant flowers and trees.
In the early years, thanks to the assistance of certain social philanthropists, the library’s collection of books was rich, comparable to some provincial-level major libraries or renowned university libraries, especially in terms of periodicals, reaching an astonishing quantity.
Lin Chen held his hand as they entered the library. At the front desk, he let go and casually introduced him to the situation of the Hongjing Library and the reason for coming here to find periodicals.
Xing Conglian was taken aback, feeling that this matter sounded familiar.
Lin Chen quickly noticed and glanced at him, helplessly shaking his head. He took a step back, assuming an attitude of “if you know it, you handle it.”
Xing Conglian also felt helpless, so he stepped forward and showed his police officer badge. They were soon led to the collection of periodicals on the top floor.
As soon as the door opened, a unique and heavy atmosphere of volumes filled the air.
The hanging lamps lit up one after another, but they couldn’t fully illuminate the vast bookshelves that seemed to stretch endlessly. The collection of books was vast, like clouds, with only a faint glimmer of light coming through the windows at the top. Despite it being late summer, Xing Conglian couldn’t help but shiver from the chill in the air.
However, Lin Chen seemed unfazed and moved among the bookshelves like a fish in water. Soon, he stopped in front of the two rows of shelves belonging to the field of psychology.
Xing Conglian followed his gaze, looking up until the very top.
Each level of the massive iron shelves was filled with collections of documents, with different shades and conditions, some new and some old. It was evident that, relying solely on their strength, finding something like “30:1103-1126” from here was like looking for a needle in a haystack.
So he asked Lin Chen if they needed help but received a negative answer.
With his hands in his pockets, Lin Chen maintained a prolonged upward gaze. His profile was blurred in the massive shadow of the bookshelves. He seemed to be immersed in deep thought, but at certain moments, he appeared extremely alert. This made Xing Conglian feel as if he was competing with some unseen opponent. Although they had never met, the shadow was real.
Finally, Lin Chen spoke. “If these numbers truly represent references from an academic journal, then ’30’ stands for a certain year’s issue or volume of a publication, and ‘1103-1126’ generally represents the corresponding page numbers.”
Xing Conglian was astonished and couldn’t help taking a step back. “Are we supposed to flip through them one by one? There are just too many.”
Lin Chen glanced at him, and from his gaze, Xing Conglian realized his frustration.
“I might not be well-educated, but you can’t do this without me!” He quickly interpreted the meaning from Lin Chen’s eyes and retorted.
However, Lin Chen turned away without a word, leaving him with his back.
Xing Conglian widened his eyes, about to say something, but then realized that Lin Chen’s target was the few old computers by the innermost bookshelf.
Those computers were probably the oldest models one could find in the city, with heavy monitors and trackballs in the mouse. Post-00s would probably never have seen such huge devices.
But Lin Chen seemed to be familiar with them. He tapped on each keyboard, finding that none of the screens lit up. So he bent down and plugged in one of the computers, then waited with some delay for the even slower boot-up process.
Xing Conglian walked over and asked, “Why don’t we get Wang Chao to handle this?”
“Because it’s simple enough not to need him,” Lin Chen replied.
They waited for quite a while until the computer finally turned on.
Lin Chen opened a scholarly search software and casually entered the string of numbers. He sorted the documents based on the number of citations.
The computer screen was very dim, as if it was about to lose power, and then the page slowly unfolded.
Xing Conglian stood beside Lin Chen, looking down.
On the screen were densely packed paper titles, with “30:1103-1126” highlighted in red. These numbers mostly appeared in the references section, indicating that Lin Chen’s direction was correct.
Mortality associated with influenza and respiratory syncytial virus in the United States.
……
Communication system having unified messaging…
The papers covered various fields, but Lin Chen’s speed was very steady. He kept scrolling the pages up and down. During this process, Xing Conglian saw two papers related to psychology and wanted to stop Lin Chen. However, when he looked at Lin Chen, he noticed that his gaze was calm and composed. He decisively skipped those two papers, as if he had a clear goal and was just looking for something specific.
Due to Lin Chen’s clear direction and purpose, Xing Conglian had a bad feeling. Lin Chen seemed too familiar with this process, as if he had experienced it before.
The document library was extremely quiet, and only the desktop computer hummed softly. Xing Conglian felt as if he was watching Lin Chen enter another realm, and he couldn’t help but want to interrupt the process and pull Lin Chen out of it.
“How can you be sure that this economic paper is not what we’re looking for?” He pointed to a paper and asked Lin Chen.
“Because there is no hyphen between the keywords ‘1103’ and ‘1126’,” Lin Chen replied.
“What exactly are you looking for, and can I help? Is it possible that the paper you’re looking for is not in English but in French, Russian, Chinese, or something else?”
“No,” Lin Chen interrupted him, and his hand, which was dragging the mouse, came to a halt.
“Why not?”
“Because English is the most widely used language in the world,” Lin Chen said.
Xing Conglian really wanted to ask what it meant for a language to be the most widely used, but Lin Chen had already opened one of the papers and mumbled to himself, “Found it.”
—On the conflicts between biological and social evolution and between psychology and moral tradition.
The author was Doland T. Campbell1, and it was published in the <American Psychologist>2. Xing Conglian noticed that the publication date of this paper was 1975.
1Was an American social scientist. He is noted for his work in methodology. He coined the term evolutionary epistemology and developed a selectionist theory of human creativity. 2A peer-reviewed academic journal published by the American Psychological Association. The journal publishes articles of broad interest to psychologists, including empirical reports and scholarly reviews covering science, practice, education, and policy, and occasionally publishes special issues on relevant topics in the field of psychology.
1975, that seemed quite ancient.
“Is this the one?” he asked uncertainly.
But Lin Chen had already taken out a ballpoint pen from his pocket and copied a series of numbers in his palm. Then, he shut down the computer and returned to the iron bookshelves, beginning to search through the thousands of bound documents using the labels.
Xing Conglian could barely keep up with this sudden change of pace. The library was so empty that he had to fill the silence with his voice. “Can’t we just download it directly? Do we have to go back to find the original?”
Lin Chen didn’t answer him but mechanically moved his gaze, scanning through rows of new and old books and magazines. Finally, he stopped at a certain spot.
“Is it here? Are we looking for 1975?” Xing Conglian asked.
But Lin Chen stood rigidly in place, opening his palm, glancing at the numbers, and then raising his head, but he suddenly froze.
Xing Conglian’s bad premonition grew stronger. He noticed that the ballpoint pen in Lin Chen’s palm was even soaked with sweat.
Following Lin Chen’s gaze upward, Xing Conglian looked at the row of <American Psychologist>: 1973, 1974, 1976, 1977…
1974, 1976…
He finally realized why Lin Chen was so tense. Among this row of journals, there was no volume for 1975.
Perhaps someone had taken it early, or there might be some other reason for its disappearance. But no matter what, the missing volume seemed to be related to the person who sent them the message to come here.
And the missing 1975 volume answered his previous question—why they couldn’t download the original directly.
Xing Conglian patted Lin Chen’s shoulder, and the latter trembled. He finally clenched his fist and said, “Xing Conglian, put on your gloves and take down these volumes.”
Lin Chen spoke while clearly padding his foot, using his fingertips to glide over several volumes from around 1975.
Xing Conglian didn’t know what Lin Chen was going to do, but he still found a ladder leaning in the corner as instructed, climbed up, and retrieved those few books.
The moment he pulled open the heavy periodicals, he understood why Lin Chen asked him to do this. It was another extremely precise judgment.
Among the four volumes he took out, the missing 1975 bound volume lay there.
In the light, dust floated, and the thick collection lay quietly in the space behind the books. Xing Conglian was motionless for a moment until Lin Chen’s voice awakened him.
“Did you find it?” Lin Chen asked.
Xing Conglian lowered his head, and Lin Chen looked up at him from below, his brows showing anxiety.
“It’s back there,” he said.
Lin Chen’s face turned deathly pale at a visible speed. Xing Conglian put the four volumes back in their place, climbed down the ladder, nodded at Lin Chen, and then looked at the desk by the window, gesturing for Lin Chen to go there and talk.
Lin Chen slowly dragged a backrest chair; his clothes were thin, and he sat down like an elderly person on the verge of death. The summer sunlight outside couldn’t warm him.
“Can you tell me what we’re going to find here?” Xing Conglian asked while pressing his gloved hand on the book.
“I don’t know,” Lin Chen replied.
“But you knew to come here, knew that a simple online database search wouldn’t work, knew how to find the exact paper with just a few numbers in this vast library. You even knew where this ‘missing’ periodical was hidden. I think you should know what you’re looking for here,” Xing Conglian asked very calmly.
“Perhaps I’ll find a word,” Lin Chen answered simply.
“What word?”
“Blind arbiters.”
“What does this word mean?”
“Blind arbiters can be translated as ‘blind arbitrators’. It has nothing to do with sports or politics and is commonly found in books about human morality and human evolution. It probably refers to the fact that the natural environment has no intention when selecting species. The work of nature is purely mechanical, so the role nature plays is more like that of a blind arbitrator.”
“I don’t understand,” Xing Conglian said straightforwardly.
“Because nature is blind, it is not as meticulous, cautious, and careful as early humans thought. We cannot find any sense of fairness and spiritual comfort in the blind nature. This also leads to a consequence…”
Lin Chen’s profound gaze shifted over, and even though it was a very dull and stereotypical academic topic, Xing Conglian couldn’t help but shiver along.
“What consequence?”
“So, both the formation of the natural world and the formation of human society are merely terrible accidents. The world has no ultimate purpose, no so-called order and reason, and of course, there is no ‘good’ or ‘evil’ that we humans create.”
Lin Chen stopped talking.
Xing Conglian thought of the “Moral Tradition” at the end of the paper’s title and also thought of the choice Lin Chen had made before. This association had no logical basis, but he didn’t ask further. Instead, he chose to open the journal in front of him and flip to page 1103.
The white paper reflected the dazzling sunlight, and each English character looked uneven. Before him lay an area he had never touched before; a territory belonging to Lin Chen.
Xing Conglian’s eyes quickly scanned the page and stopped soon after because he saw that someone had written a sentence in very small pencil letters within the book’s seams.
The handwriting was gentle, and the tone was like a whisper, but it made one feel like falling into an abyss.
As Long Shen jumped down, all the demonic qi seemed to be led by him and disappeared before everyone’s eyes.
In that instant, Dong Zhi’s mind went completely blank until he heard the shout of “Quickly seal the passage,” which made him react.
Li Han’er was quick-witted. When Dong Zhi rushed out, she also reached out to grab his clothes. However, Dong Zhi’s speed was too fast, and she couldn’t catch him. He had already entered the formation and headed straight for the abyss!
“Stop him!” Song Zhicun shouted.
But at the same time as these words were spoken, Dong Zhi hardly hesitated at all and had already jumped in.
Following him, Liu Si and Yu Buhui’s figures leaped in one after another.
Li Han’er gazed blankly at the crack leading to the abyss, feeling far more shaken than what her eyes could see. Her feelings for Long Shen had actually faded over time, but the more she couldn’t have him, the more she couldn’t forget him. Human nature always regrets and clings to the things it cannot obtain. She was no exception. However, just now, at that critical moment, she realized that she couldn’t be like Dong Zhi, who followed without hesitation. She recognized that she wasn’t on the same level as Dong Zhi, Liu Si, and Yu Buhui. That hidden regret in her heart was completely dispelled.
He Yu and Liu Qingbo also wanted to follow. Liu Qingbo’s subconscious thought wasn’t about considering the danger; he just found the idea of visiting the abyss quite thrilling, even if it meant risking his life. But He Yu couldn’t leave his position in the formation, and Liu Qingbo was held back by Yang Shouyi. By the time he broke free, Yu Buhui had already jumped in, leaving his spot unguarded. Song Zhicun ordered him to guard the vacated spot, forcing Liu Qingbo to abandon all thoughts of exploring the abyss.
However, when they heard that Song Zhicun was about to completely seal the passage, the group displayed strong reactions.
He Yu’s response was particularly intense. “No, they still have a chance to come out. What if we seal it now?”
Song Zhicun’s voice turned hoarse as he said, “Do you think I want to do this? Don’t forget why Long Shen sacrificed himself! The demonic qi is only temporarily suppressed; we must seal it immediately so as not to waste their efforts!”
He Yu couldn’t refute his words and could only suggest, “The formation can still hold for two more days. Let’s wait two more days, and if they haven’t come out by then, we can seal it, okay?”
Song Zhicun didn’t wish for Long Shen and the others to die, but now, maintaining the seven positions in the formation depended not only on him and He Yu but also on others. Whether they could hold on for two more days was also a question.
Amidst the silence and dilemma, Liu Qingbo spoke up first. “I can hold on for two more days!”
Sect Master Zhang and Sect Master Zheng also claimed they could do it.
Sect master Xing, who was resting nearby, said, “My injuries are not serious, and I can replace anyone at any time.”
Li Han’er and the others also spoke up one after another. Even the elderly Living Buddha declared that he could persist. Looking at everyone’s expressions, perhaps some of them didn’t have such a deep bond with Long Shen, but at this moment, after everyone had already endured several days and nights, they were all willing to hold on for two more days because it might save a few lives.
Song Zhicun sighed and finally made a decision. “Then let’s wait two more days!”
……
If it hadn’t been for experiencing it firsthand, Dong Zhi would have found it hard to believe that there could be such a deep tunnel beneath the ground.
It wasn’t pitch-black before his eyes; instead, a floating red light appeared at the end, piercing through layers of mist into his sight. He couldn’t see Long Shen, nor did he feel any pain from the invasion of the demonic qi. Perhaps the protective aura around his body was working, but he felt as if he hadn’t fallen underground but rather entered a different space.
Countless voices swept by his ears, with sharp complaints, hysterical roars, and all the hidden desires of people’s hearts in the world, completely revealed to him at this moment.
I’ve accompanied my husband through years of hardship, and now that we have money, he’s cheating and having an affair with another woman. I really want to poison him and his mistress!
Why is it that we entered the company at the same time, and I am more capable than her, yet she gets promoted and I don’t? It’s all because she is prettier than me!
This woman is already a fallen woman, and she dares to mention breaking up with me. I doubt any man would want her!
The child is mine, and I can beat him however I want. Even if he dies, it’s perfectly justified. Do I need someone else to teach me a lesson?
He deserves to be cuckolded because he keeps showing off his wealth. Isn’t it all because he got lucky and married a rich woman?
You were born poor, and you deserve to be treated as lower class!
……
Dong Zhi never thought he would be here, listening to the ugliest and most malicious thoughts hidden deep in people’s hearts.
As a human, especially one who grew up in an ordinary environment, Dong Zhi had interacted with many people like this and had seen many appalling and infuriating news reports, but that was all at a distance. Due to the constraints of peer pressure, social morality, and the law, many people didn’t reveal the darkness lurking within their hearts.
Dong Zhi himself was generally optimistic and positive. Even when his parents died in a car accident and he became dissatisfied with his job, he didn’t feel abandoned by society. This could be seen from the fact that, despite encountering strange and terrifying incidents on the train, he didn’t give up on his journey and continued forward.
It wasn’t that he didn’t have negative emotions; it was just that he didn’t let them linger in his heart for too long, nor did he let those dark and malicious thoughts dominate him. So when he suddenly received so much darkness, it was as if all the malice in the world poured over him in a matter of seconds, drowning him in boundless despair.
In this darkness, even if one retained their sanity, they would slowly be eroded and assimilated, eventually turning into a mindless monster, just like Otowa Yasuhiko.
This was the true abyss of hell!
The downward momentum continued. Dong Zhi forced himself not to care about it. Instead, he focused all his willpower on resisting these evil thoughts. The incessant voices still lingered around him, almost making Dong Zhi feel like he was a person full of resentment, wishing everyone dead. He struggled to summon a thought and let out a loud roar in his meditation.
Get away from me!
As the words left his mouth, he felt a buzzing in his ears. The evil thoughts seemed stunned by his outburst and fell silent for a moment.
But before he could relax, a torrent of evil thoughts surged once again, breaking through his protective aura. Dong Zhi was so angry that he almost wanted to curse these evil thoughts and their ancestors for eighteen generations like Liu Qingbo.
It was said that hell had eighteen layers, and while that might just be a legend, this abyss of hell was undoubtedly a multi-layered space. If Long Shen and he were scattered into different spaces, how would he find him?
Moreover, before leaping into the abyssal passage, Long Shen had already absorbed almost enough demonic qi to turn half of the human world into a hell. Would he even remember who he was?
The emotions of sadness and despair almost overwhelmed him, and the content from the notebook resurfaced in his mind. Dong Zhi could almost remember every symbol on it. The idea of reaching a dead end penetrated his body through his fingertips, quickly spreading through his limbs. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to plummet rapidly in the dark abyss. The demonic qi surged from all directions, breaking through his protective aura. The demonic qi was about to touch his body when suddenly his Changshou Sword vibrated slightly. The Changshou Sword unsheathed itself and flew out from behind him.
The sword light swept through, instantly shattering the surrounding demonic qi. But the Changshou Sword didn’t dim afterward; it continued to float above his head as if protecting him.
The glimmering sword light startled Dong Zhi, and his mind became clear. He realized that his emotions had almost been influenced by the demonic qi just now.
If demonic qi in the human world was relatively weak, needing an opportunity to strike its prey, then this abyss of hell was its territory. Humans here became the outsiders, easily trapped like flies in a spider’s web with no escape, just waiting to be devoured.
Even if he might never be able to leave again, since he had risked his life to jump down here, no matter what, he had to find Long Shen. He must bring Long Shen back to the human world.
Humans were fragile, with a lifespan of only a few decades. Faced with disease and death, they had no resistance. Humans were susceptible to various external influences, indulging in fame, wealth, and emotions, unable to extricate themselves. However, humans were also powerful; they could fear nothing, calmly face death, and endure endless hardships. All because—
A single thought could change everything, making them invincible.
……
Liu Si and Yu Buhui stood there, looking at the boundless sea in a daze. They didn’t quite understand how they ended up here.
Originally, Liu Si had been standing behind Dong Zhi. When he saw Dong Zhi rushing into the formation and jumping into the pit, he didn’t think too much and followed suit. However, after coming down, they didn’t find the scene they imagined—no piles of corpses and blood, but a serene blue sea and silver sand. Moreover, instead of Dong Zhi, who should have been in front of him, it was Yu Buhui who appeared next to Liu Si.
“Why did you come down?” Liu Si asked Yu Buhui.
Yu Buhui scratched his chin. “I saw Senior Brother jumping down, and I instinctively stood up to stop him. But I couldn’t grab him, and then some short-lived brat behind me pushed me, and I fell straight down.”
Liu Si: …
This bizarre explanation made him stare at Yu Buhui for several seconds, and the latter responded with an innocent expression.
Liu Si sighed and withdrew his gaze, asking, “What should we do now?”
However, Yu Buhui seemed interested in him. “You’re not human?”
The question sounded like an insult, and Liu Si looked at him for a while, as if trying to confirm if Yu Buhui was doing it on purpose, before nodding.
There weren’t many artifacts that had successfully cultivated into human form in the world. Most of them didn’t want to be bound by the Special Administration Bureau because once they entered it, their true form and origin would be recorded. However, Yu Buhui didn’t have the authority to access all the files, so he naturally didn’t know Liu Si’s true form.
“An artifact spirit?” he asked.
“Willow tree,” Liu Si replied without any concealment.
But Yu Buhui’s reaction was unexpected. After Liu Si revealed his true form, Yu Buhui’s eyes suddenly brightened, and that surprised look didn’t escape Liu Si’s notice.
“Do you have any questions?”
Yu Buhui: “I am a spirit weapon that took human form, the Fish Intestines Sword*.”
*As confirmed, this is the sword that Ou Yezi made that was used by Helü of Wu to assassinate his uncle, Liao of Wu. It was hidden in a cooked fish presented to King Liao at a banquet. As a result of the assassination, the blade gained a reputation for causing its user to be disloyal.
Liu Si nodded and didn’t inquire further.
He wasn’t a talkative person, nor was he curious by nature. He was more suitable for being a team member who followed orders rather than a leader who led the charge and gave commands. In a way, Liu Si’s personality was somewhat related to his true form—gentle, quiet, and capable but lacking a strong presence. However, with him around, there was an additional reliable force, which was enough to reassure others.
They were surrounded by the vast sea, and behind them was an endless forest. Under their feet was soft, clean beach sand. Liu Si looked around and hesitated, “Is this really the abyss of hell?”
Yu Buhui suddenly smiled ambiguously. “Maybe I know why.”
Liu Si looked puzzled.
Yu Buhui asked in return, “What do you think hell should be like?”
Liu Si naturally replied, “Of course, it should be a place of knives and seas of fire, with oil pots above and—”
He spoke quickly, but Yu Buhui acted even faster, covering his mouth with his hand. However, it was too late. As the first half of his words came out, the refreshing ocean aura before his eyes was instantly replaced by scorching waves and flames. The soft silver sand they stood on turned into iron chains that only accommodated one foot, with the chains violently shaking, and below was a blazing sea of fire with flashing sharp knives in the flames.
Screams echoed around them as many numb-looking people fell from the iron chains, pierced by the sharp knives, and blood splattered everywhere. However, they struggled to get up, reaching out to grab the iron chains.
Everything seemed like an illusion.
Liu Si stood steadily on the iron chains, maintaining his balance no matter how much they swayed, but he was completely confused by the scene before him.
“An illusion?” he asked.
Yu Buhui: “It’s real.”
Liu Si pointed to someone who had already had three to four blood holes pierced by a sharp knife but still hadn’t died, still struggling on the brink of death, and asked, “Is that real too?”
Yu Buhui said, “It’s all real. I finally understand where Otowa Yasuhiko’s ability to manipulate the mirror space comes from. The demonic qi he obtained from the stone box originally belonged to the power of the abyss of hell. But Otowa only got a glimpse of it, so reality and illusion were mixed together. However, this place is the source of all darkness, able to grant any desire. If you want a place with knives and seas of fire, it will give you that. If you want a serene blue sea and silver sand, it will give you that too. It’s all real. The people you see here are actually the various desires and resentments of countless beings in the world. The mortal world is an abyss of desires, and everyone is rolling in it. This place is a mirror world of the mortal world.”
Liu Si frowned, carefully considering his words, and after a while, he said, “So, the abyss of hell is actually related to the human world. Even if the Special Administration Bureau seals the passage, is there still a possibility for us to leave?”
Yu Buhui: “Perhaps. This is just my speculation, and it needs to be verified. But you must not think of knives and seas of fire again. Falling down there is no fun. If I’m not mistaken, the flames below are hellfire. It’s not the Red Lotus karmic fire used to cleanse sins in Buddhism but the endless hellfire* that can make souls scatter. Even if we have tough bodies, we won’t be able to withstand it.”
*Clarity: Hellfire refers to karmic fire that represents the fires of hell that burn sinners. The red lotus karmic fire is a specific fire in hell that burns with a red lotus flame and is used as punishment for sinners. The sinners burned by it are purified and their souls cleansed, allowing them to eventually be reborn and start their karma cycle again.
Meanwhile, in the boundless darkness, the demonic qi, like the air in the mortal realm, gave birth to the purest dark life here.
This is the end of all realms, perpetually devoid of the light’s touch, where any living being other than the demonic qi itself would perish and cease to exist.
The demonic qi slowly condensed, gradually forming the outline of a man. If Dong Zhi were here, he would surely recognize him.
Unfortunately, Dong Zhi couldn’t possibly come here. He was still struggling for survival at the edge of hell, resisting the onslaught of malicious thoughts intending to take advantage of him.
The man finally took shape. He possessed a handsome face and a tall figure that, in the mortal realm, would attract the attention of any opposite sex. However, the surging demonic qi emanating from him was an unimaginably powerful force that could never exist in the mortal world. Due to the limitations imposed by the laws of the heavens, any power that exceeded the limits of space would automatically be rejected by the world unless it tore open a crack connecting the worlds.
The original Eight-Direction Demon-Sealing Array was precisely one such crack left behind from ancient times. It was sealed artificially, and with the destruction of the eye of the array, the dormant demonic qi in the abyss of hell was awakened, and the serene demonic qi began to boil again. Long Shen was an excellent sacrifice who had fallen into the abyss at this very moment.
He slowly opened his eyes. There were no whites in his eyes; the eyeballs were entirely occupied by black, like dense ink or an unceasingly burning black fire.
“I am… Mara…”
The man displayed a lazy smile and spoke a sentence in ancient Sanskrit. He lowered his head, looking at his own slender and fair palm, where the black demonic qi flowed, containing enough power to destroy the heavens and the earth.
“… No, I am Long Shen.”
After a moment, he continued, his mouth twitching, struggling to speak.
At this moment, his face seemed to split into two halves: one half was filled with anger, and the other half with wickedness.
Just like when Ming Xian was possessed by the demonic qi, losing control of his body and will, and had to be killed by Tang Jing, Long Shen was now facing a similar situation.
The difference was that back then, only a trace of demonic qi invaded Ming Xian, but now, Long Shen had absorbed nearly half of the abyss of hell’s demonic qi. The immense demonic qi tormented him and awakened the great demon sleeping within.
This time, it wasn’t a mere incarnation or a lingering spirit; he encountered the Lord of Demons, Mara.
The body that had already been taken over by Mara’s presence casually flicked a finger, igniting a black flame at will. The flame gradually expanded in the air, instantly bursting open like fireworks, forming a magnificent scene.
As a heavenly demon feared even by the Buddha, Mara’s expression, even if wearing Long Shen’s skin, possessed an indescribable strangeness. The strength and evilness displayed by the demon’s incarnation summoned in the Xianda Village had already shocked Dong Zhi to the core but compared to the real Lord of Demon in front of him, it was simply insignificant.
“Let me see what has enabled you to hold on until now.” A taunting laughter rang in Long Shen’s ears. Clearly, it was his own voice coming from his body, but it felt so unfamiliar to him. His mouth slowly overflowed with blood as the demonic qi surged and filled his body. His own will was visibly weakening.
They eventually chose the inn where the Rizzi Caravan stayed, and Teest booked a luxury suite directly.
Luxury suites were all separate houses, surrounded by colorful flowers, like a giant garden. Naturally, the price of a good house was staggering. Only two of the large luxury suites were rented out previously. One was rented to a female relative of the Alva Merchant Group, and the other was occupied by a young noble.
Nol barely saw one of the neighbors. It was a young redhead with a tall bodyguard following him. However, the distance between houses was quite far, and the view was mostly blocked by clusters of flowers, so there didn’t seem to be any need to greet.
Needless to say, Nol liked this design. No one would complain about too much privacy, and not having to greet was even better.
Nol and Teest’s suite was divided into five rooms, structured like a set of “吕口吕” characters—a large living room in the middle, with four smaller rooms around it serving as separate bedrooms, bathrooms, and a small kitchen. On the table in the center of the living room, hotel staff decorated a large bouquet of yellow roses and baby’s breath and also provided baked cookies and cupcakes. The two bedrooms were diagonally opposite each other, and the soundproofing was pretty good.
Nol went to his bedroom, which was about ten square meters and furnished with a soft double bed and wooden table and chairs. He decisively closed the curtains, leaving the four moons out of sight.
He naturally wasn’t planning to sleep.
Nol spread out the parchment paper provided by the inn and began to organize the information about Whitebird City in his memory.
Whitebird City was located on the northern border of Shidina and didn’t involve the main plot. Its only significance was “the city that caravans must pass through”.
The city was indeed ruled by the Swain family. But in Nol’s impression, Lord Swain was a wealthy old man with a living wife, and their six children were all grown up.
Nol dabbed the paper with his quill. He wasn’t quite used to this kind of dip pen.
Whitebird City had a mainline NPC named “Kermit the Old Craftsman”. He was a reliable, weird old man who opened a magic item store in Whitebird City. Nol needed to check it out tomorrow. If the store was as described, he could get a lot of good stuff.
After all, they couldn’t be chasing a killer in rags.
Nol sat at the desk all night, finishing the “Whitebird City Operation Guide”. With the remaining time, he burned the Dragon Corpse Notebook and rewrote it in ink that was blood. This time he was meticulous and careful, writing the new magic on just one page.
Next to the self-created magic circle, Nol wrote a note in the common language:
[Necromancy: Consumes 10~100 MP, summons 1 low-level undead; this spell prioritizes consuming magical materials; the caster’s minimum consumption is 1 MP/unit.]
[※The stronger the low-level undead, the more magic power is consumed.]
Summoned monsters had their own attributes, irrelevant to the strength of the summoner, which was very suitable for him now. Nol wanted to figure out a higher-level necromancy but was afraid that the Dragon Corpse Notebook couldn’t handle it.
The truth was cruel. Even if Nol could create magic, he couldn’t escape the basic rule of “the stronger the magic, the greater the consumption”. He could cast weak spells within 100 MP on his own, but to increase his firepower, he had to rely on the power of the Dragon Corpse Notebook.
But the Dragon Corpse Notebook was like a disposable power bank. If he used it up, he’d have to carry a mountain of magical materials everywhere.
He must first solve the attrition problem of the notebook.
The sunlight leaked in through the gaps in the curtains. Nol snapped his fingers and burned the written parchment with will-o’-wisps. When he stood up, there wasn’t even a trace of ash left on the table.
In the morning, Teest planned to purchase clothes and supplies, while Nol was eager to visit the magic item store. After a brief discussion, they decided to go their separate ways.
“I’ll buy your clothes too,” Teest said. “Remember to look around a lot. We still have the City Lord’s daughter to find.”
“Are you buying alone?”
Teest waved his hand. “I know your size. Don’t forget, you were quite ‘honest’ back then.”
“…….”
Nol exhaled with a poker face. Just then, he noticed a small change—
Teest had hidden the Player’s earring.
Back in the novice village, Nol heard from Bly. He said the Player’s earring couldn’t be removed. Even if the ear was cut off, it would grow back with the earring. To hide the “Player” identity, you had to cover your ears or disguise the earring. Teest clearly chose the latter.
With Teest’s striking silver-white long hair, the earring was usually barely visible under the hair strands. Now, he glued the earring pendant to his earlobe, painted it silver, and added half a pearl, making it look like a pearl earring with silver edges, which blended seamlessly with his silver hair.
He even made a pair for his right ear, making it even harder to spot any flaws. With that handsome face, these makeshift “new earrings” actually looked quite fitting.
Nol didn’t know how many gadgets Teest had hidden in his waist bag. Shaking his head, he left the room.
……
“Kermit’s Magic Shop” was even more exaggerated than in the conceptual draft.
This building was made of wood, leaning at odd angles with three stories. It was sandwiched between two tall walls, old and narrow, like a leaf stuck between teeth. Nol pushed the door open, nearly getting smacked in the face by a dried lizard hanging from the doorway.
The inside of the shop was even messier than the outside. 80% of the entire space was filled with shelves placed haphazardly, cluttered with goods—dried reptile corpses, jars filled with insect wings or spiders curled up, all sorts of unidentified minerals, leathers, and dried herbs. Thick books were crammed wherever space permitted, and metal tools piled up in corners.
They were all covered in a thick layer of dust, making them look almost the same color.
“Wow, a customer!” Just as Nol was pushing aside the dried lizard, a young man slid down from a ladder.
“I’m the boss here, Bob.” The young man had short ginger hair that clung to his scalp, long slender limbs, and a big round nose. He extended his hand, which was smeared with a yellowish-green sticky substance, to Nol.
Nol stood up straight, not shaking the extended hand. “You’re the boss? Where’s Kermit?”
Bob whistled. “Where have you been? You’re really behind on the news! Kermit disappeared two hundred years ago.”
“…What?”
“I said, he disappeared two hundred years ago. He was the master of my master’s master… or something like that,” Bob said. “He went with the hero, Drake, to the Endless Sea to defeat the Demon King at the edge of the world. Everyone knows, ships that sail to the Endless Sea never return.”
“What do you want with someone who died two hundred years ago?”
Nol stood there as if frozen.
How could this be?
The leader of the Dragon Clan was still Subelbot, the novice village hadn’t changed, and the Players had just arrived… Nol subconsciously thought that this world was still in the process of “the main storyline of the game”.
Even though “Tahe World” had AI assistance, the main storyline was still fully controlled by the production team. Nol was sure they designed events spanning about ten years at most within the game.
Old Craftsman Kermit, the Dragonblood Hero Drake… These were characters they designed themselves. Especially the hero Drake; he was an indispensable main storyline character.
And now, they all belonged to two hundred years ago.
Even the monsters encountered in the novice village weren’t as frightening to Nol as this news. Whether it was the extra moons and gods or the bugged dungeons and systems, their foundation was still the game—the world he knew so well, the golden era he helped create.
Now, his only “information advantage” was questionable.
Nol couldn’t help but shudder. Liches were naturally cold-blooded, and now his blood felt like it was about to freeze.
Upon reflection, there were hints. For instance, the missing tavern NPC couple in the novice village, the Lord of Whitebird City whose family details didn’t match up, and this dilapidated store in front of him that was about to fall apart.
In the game’s lore, it was set to be only two years old, so while it could be a bit run down, it had nothing to do with being “old”.
“Hey, are you buying something or not?”
Seeing Nol zoning out at the entrance, Bob raised his voice.
“Sorry, I made a mistake,” Nol responded quickly. “My ancestors were friends with Old Kermit. I thought his shop would be inherited by one of his descendants, Mr. or Ms. Kermit… You know, it’s been two hundred years.”
“A common mistake,” Bob said. “So what are you here for?”
Nol cleared his throat. “My ancestors left a diary mentioning where Old Kermit hid blueprints. I was passing by Whitebird City and thought to check—just in case his heir didn’t find it. That would be a significant loss. Also, I really want to buy some things.”
Bob took a deep breath, dragging out a chair from a corner. “Come, let’s talk.”
In less than ten minutes, Nol found a hidden compartment in one of the ground-floor rooms. The parchment inside was as soft as new, but Nol’s heart sank.
Just as he had suspected.
In the design of “Tahe”, there should be a fixed daily quest here. A Player, with system prompts, should discover this compartment and eventually bring Old Kermit into the main storyline.
The issue was, Old Kermit lived two hundred years ago, and Players had just entered the game a month ago. So the compartment remained undiscovered until now.
Bob, unfolding the parchment, grew more excited as he read it. “Praise the Goddess, these are all treasures! Oh, thank you, thank you—how much do you want for this? I’m willing to offer 10 gold wheels!”
This scene reminded him of someone. Nol gave a forced smile and asked, “Can I specify the compensation?”
“Since you’ve told me the truth, I should also be honest with you. Everything in the store is junk now; the only thing of value is money.” Bob’s head shook like a pellet drum.
“I only want three things. And before I take them, I’ll let you check. If you disagree, I’ll change my choice.”
“Ah, okay then. Why are you so stubborn?”
Nol didn’t hesitate about what to choose. He headed straight to the “three-floor junk room” Bob mentioned and started searching for his target items. Even if he remembered their models, in this junkyard-like place, it took him a full two hours.
The first item was a moldy-looking long staff. It was made of black wood, with obvious signs of damage at the top. The gemstone that was originally affixed at the top had disappeared, leaving only a bald, plate-like base.
[Incomplete Cursed Staff: An old staff that has lost its magical core. It currently cannot be used for casting. Only accepts cores with a cursed aura. When complete, the wielder’s intelligence attribute increases by double, while other attributes are halved.
※Crafted by Cain Kermit]
Given that his other attributes had already been reduced by 99%, halving them again didn’t make much of a difference. As long as he was weak enough, negative effects couldn’t harm him.
The second item was stored in a ring box. It was the size of a fingernail and appeared to be the transparent wing of an insect.
[Fairy’s Prank: Material unknown. Can hide items within dimensions of 6x6x6(cm) and can’t be detected by any means.
Usage: Stick it on the item’s surface; one-time use only.
※Crafted by Cain Kermit]
It was supposed to be a prototype item for the game shop, meant to hide unwanted accessories. Unfortunately, Old Kermit never made a mainline appearance, so it never had a chance to be listed in the system store.
The third item… he had only mentioned it as insurance. Since he found what he wanted, Nol returned to the first floor and casually took out a large tome titled “The Complete Recipe Book”.
The cover was gray and black, covered in cobwebs, making it unappetizing to look at.
“That staff might be worth something if it had a magical core,” Bob commented. “Cursed magical cores are incredibly hard to find, so you better think it through.”
“The other two… ahem, together they’re worth less than three silver hooks. Are you sure?”
“Then throw in some cheap materials for me. I want a rabbit fur brush, vine glue, magic-absorbent cloth, color-changing embroidery thread, and twelve colors of paint.”
Unless absolutely necessary, Nol didn’t really want to use the gold wheels Teest gave him. After all, it was agreed that it was Teest’s money.
“All that won’t even cost four silver hooks! But alright, you asked for it.” Bob awkwardly began to pack.
Stepping out the door, Nol felt as if he was in a different world.
Four moons, a strange religious belief… 200 years.
Holding the broken staff in his right hand and a cloth bag in his left, his mind wandered.
If 200 years have already passed in this world…
Whoosh!
While Nol was sorting out his situation, he felt his left hand lighten. He instinctively looked up and saw a small figure disappearing around the corner.
Ah, a thief.
He was in a bad mood, so he didn’t chase. His staff was in his hand, and his Dragon Corpse Notebook was wrapped in cloth, tied together with his money bag. There wasn’t anything valuable in the bag, just some small items.
Wait, small items.
…The tool he bought for Teest was in that bag, and it was the only one of its kind in today’s world!
Tucking the broken staff under his arm, Nol began to run.
The author has something to say:
Nol: As long as I’m trash, no one can curse me.jpg
A dignified Lich, steps out and gets his shopping bag stolen√
————————————
My biggest fear has come true. Once the (future) young couples have money, they won’t even share the same room. I’m so sad…
Kinky Thoughts:
Whether it’s Teest’s money or yours, in the end, it’ll all go into a joint account.
Drake is sometimes used synonymously to dragon or a specific type of dragon.
That being said, the two still went to the bank first. The gold obtained from the Lich was too much, and it was heavy, so carrying it around was dangerous.
After Teest deposited the money, he bought two beast-skin pouches with locks on his way out. He filled them with gold wheels, took one, and gave the other to Nol.
“Don’t worry about whose money it is. Having money is always better than not,” he said.
Fifteen minutes later.
The two-story building of the Mercenary Guild was in sight. Nol realized that when Teest had mentioned “a full friends list”, he wasn’t joking.
Even with the assistance of the game system, Nol could easily see Teest’s combat instincts and reaction speed. Teest was undoubtedly a veteran Player, and in the game, veterans always have plenty of friends.
Even though Teest carried the curse of “God’s Forsaken”, the curse didn’t break their engagement, so Teest’s friendships in the game were probably normal—the game system had always been cautious about punishments that may affect innocent Players.
Nol looked at the sign of the Mercenary Guild. The wooden sign was coated with fine grease, suspended by thick silver chains, with the words “Whitebird City Mercenary Guild” gilded. On both sides of the main gate, there were marble statues of a young man and woman, with flames dancing incessantly within the statues’ lanterns. The gilded characters reflected the flickering light, as if they too were on fire.
The “Mercenary Guild” was an important design in “Tahe”, and its routine was traditionally set up—Players needed to come to the Mercenary Guild register, meet mentors of different professions, find like-minded partners, and then embark on various adventures.
Teest’s in-game friends were definitely here. Hopefully, they were also skilled Players.
Just as Nol was about to enter, Teest pulled his clothes.
“You’re heading to the guild?” Teest asked. “I’m in a hurry. If you’re really anxious, we can split up.”
Huh? Nol slowly turned his head.
“No, I’m not in a rush,” he said, following Teest in confusion until the latter went straight into the “Miscellaneous Merchant Fleet Introduction Office”.
Compared to the Mercenary Guild, this place was equally grand, but in a different manner. The Mercenary Guild felt solemn and rugged, with designs infused with the strength of blood and fire. The “Miscellaneous Merchant Fleet Introduction Office”, however, was somewhat flashy, resembling a business KTV. Its door plate was embedded with colorful glass, attached with low-level magic, making the glasses shimmer constantly.
The young men and women greeting at the door were real and dressed even more daringly than the statues. They wore flower crowns, and their smiles were exceptionally sweet.
In the game’s setting, this was more like an “Information Exchange Office”. Merchants always had the latest news, and this was a place dedicated to caravan supplies.
Players usually came here to buy clues or pick up sidequests. It was unlikely for them to work here. The reason was simple; the jobs here were quite…
“Do any caravans need a cook?” Teest promptly went to the bar.
…grounded, and mostly involved heavy physical work, Nol silently recalled.
“A cook? Fifteen are hiring. The information is on the recruitment wall. You can choose whichever you are interested in.” The girl behind the counter was polite. It was evident that effort had been put into staff training, as all the employees, regardless of gender, were young and attractive.
“A glass of ‘Pigeon Blood’, keep the change.” Teest placed a gold wheel on the counter, smiling gently. “We plan to head south and stay here for a few days. I’d like to hear your suggestions.”
Nol winced.
In the setting of “Tahe”, each country’s currency was universal. Gold coins, called “gold wheels”, were small but had the purchasing power equivalent to about 1,000 yuan in the real world; silver coins, called “silver hooks”, were worth 100 yuan. There were also ten-yuan large copper coins and one-yuan small copper coins. Below them were even smaller copper buttons, rarely used by Players.
Nol would bet that the wine named “Pigeon Blood” didn’t cost more than a silver hook, yet Teest paid with a gold wheel.
The girl behind the counter gracefully pocketed the gold wheel, gave Teest an appreciative look, and smiled even sweeter.
“If you’re heading south, let me think. The Alva Merchant Group is hiring, but their requirements are strict. I personally recommend the Rizzi Caravan. They offer good treatment, easy tasks, and plan to stay in Whitebird City for about a week.”
She twirled a curl of her chestnut hair and gazed at him with smiling eyes.
“Other caravans… It’s hard to say.” She then handed over the wine. “Here’s your drink.”
The vibrant red wine swirled in the glass, its deep hue reminiscent of blood, and it gave off a rich fruity aroma.
“Thank you.” Teest lifted his glass to the girl and left the counter.
“Do you drink?” Once the girl was no longer looking, Teest asked Nol.
“No.”
“Alright,” Teest murmured. He went to the corridor and gave the wine to the first laborer he saw carrying luggage. The laborer, around fifty with a limp and emanating a sour odor, took it.
“Cheers, friend,” Teest said gently.
Knowing he had nothing to lose, the laborer didn’t hesitate for even a second and downed the wine. “You’re a good man, sir.” He grinned, revealing yellow-stained teeth.
“I don’t drink either,” Teest explained after the gesture.
……
The inn where the Rizzi Caravan stayed wasn’t far away. The entrance of the inn was adorned with a profusion of flowers. A white stone fountain was constructed there, which sprayed water mixed with an elegant perfume. The moment a guest entered the hall, the attendant would ring the silver bells that decorated it, producing a pleasant melody.
‘Not bad,’ Nol thought. Perhaps they wouldn’t have to look for other hotels.
However, when they reached the room of the recruiter, there was already an applicant present.
He was a fat man, not more than 1.6 meters tall. He looked to be in his early forties, with thinning hair on top, and sported a finely trimmed small mustache. A roll of flesh circled his neck, and the buttons on his stomach were stretched tight, looking like they might pop at any moment. Despite this, his clothing was of high quality, and he didn’t smell unpleasant—in fact, he smelled of fresh cream and caramel.
Upon seeing Teest and Nol enter, the chubby man scrutinized them, then lifted the corner of his mouth in a barely concealed sneer.
The recruiter was a tall, thin middle-aged man, currently seated at a round table in the living room. He politely gestured to the empty seats.
“The market has been good lately. The goods from Inato are more than expected,” the tall man started. “We’ve hired enough temporary workers. Now, the problem is, they need to be fed for the next half month.”
The fat man coughed and spoke up first—
“I am Kurt, the head chef of Egret Restaurant,” he said with his hands crossed. “The owner of the Egret Restaurant—I mean, that damned heretic—was just executed by the Temple a few days ago. The restaurant is closed…. so here I am.”
“Oh, I heard about that. It’s unfortunate. Bad things can happen to anyone,” the tall man replied sympathetically.
Encouraged, the fat man continued, “Sir, I’ve been a chef for nearly thirty years. I can make the most delicious desserts with the most basic ingredients. Making ordinary meals is even easier for me!”
“Good.” The tall man nodded, turning to Teest. “And you?”
“Teest, a traveler. I can hunt, skin, process meat, and make both beast and monster meat palatable,” Teest replied.
The tall man raised his eyebrows, clearly intrigued.
“Palatable…” The fat man muttered under his breath.
“You, come here.” The tall man beckoned Teest, who obediently moved closer. The man sniffed him, checked his eyelids, and pinched his upper arm. Finally, he asked Teest to show his hands, examining his nails and calluses.
“Very good,” he commented at last. “Healthy, sturdy, clean… Just wish you had more calluses. Would’ve been better if you knew how to use weapons.”
“I’d have to find a job at the Mercenary Guild then,” Teest joked.
“You’ll be responsible for ninety people, two meals a day. They’re all laborers and need two catties of meat a day.”
“Of course, we’ll bring some dried meat and goats with the caravan… but who knows what we’ll encounter on the road? You might need to hunt. If you get good pelts, we’ll buy them at market price.”
The tall man sat back down, smiling. “That’s about it for your job. Room and board included, three gold wheels for half a month, paid in full when we reach our destination. How does that sound?”
Teest turned to Nol. “I’d like to bring my friend along.”
“Hmm, we don’t usually take outsiders. But if you insist, room and board would cost him one gold wheel.”
“I’ll work alongside Teest,” Nol interjected.
The tall man eyed him for a moment. “We’ll waive that gold wheel, but I’ll put it in the contract.”
Nol was taken aback.
By now, he could guess Teest’s intentions. Pretending to apply as a cook was just a ruse. He wanted to hitch a ride with the caravan. Caravans knew the fastest and safest routes and usually had mercenary guards, making it the safest and most convenient way to travel.
Indeed, he was really “cozying up”. Teest didn’t want to take any risks.
On the other side, seeing that the two were about to strike a deal, Kurt became agitated. Jumping off his stool, his face turned red. “Beast meat is hard to make palatable! No matter how it’s prepared, there’s always a foul taste, and monster meat is even worse—”
“I accept the job,” Teest cut him off. “Sir, could I have a word in private with Mr. Chef?”
“I’ll step out for a smoke. Come tomorrow morning to cook two dishes for a trial. If all is well, we’ll sign the contract,” the tall man nodded and left.
“I have nothing to say to you. You’re not even a real chef!” As soon as the tall man left, Kurt furiously shouted.
“Sir, the Alva Merchant Group’s caravan is in Whitebird City. They are also hiring chefs, real chefs.” Teest laughed. “You know, they want experts who can make lemon cakes and know how to roast pigeons. Not amateurs like me who only know how to skin and cook things till they’re done.”
Mr. Kurt opened his mouth, his face reddening even more. “Ah… you… but I didn’t see…”
“The benefits offered by the Alva Merchant Group are incredibly good. If they publicly recruited, half of the city’s people would try their luck.” Teest sighed. “I only got to know this because I have some inside connections.”
Mr. Kurt remained silent for a long time.
His round face was still flushed, and his eyes looked slightly moist. After a while, he looked up, his tone more sincere.
“Thank you. I’ll give it a try,” Kurt said. “Whether it works out or not, I owe both of you a drink tonight… I was too hasty earlier. My attitude was, well…”
“Oh, it seems I can only take advantage of your generosity then,” Teest remarked.
……
Kurt took them to his home, which didn’t seem as affluent as his appearance might suggest.
His house was in a good location and spacious, but it was empty. After a look around, Nol figured that the most valuable items in the large room were probably the few sets of silverware. Some parts of the floor had different colors, suggesting that decorations used to be placed there but were now gone.
Mr. Kurt slowly walked to a cupboard, and from its depths, he pulled out a bottle of wine. The bottle was covered in a thick layer of dust, but it couldn’t conceal the rich wine inside.
“We can’t drink alcohol due to our constitution,” Teest stated. “Lemon water, tea… just make anything you like.”
Mr. Kurt sagged a little, dusting off the wine bottle before putting it back. He then skillfully put on an apron and took out some fruits, nearly used-up honey, and a few sprigs of fresh herbs.
“I’ll prepare a special drink for you,” Kurt said, wiping his hands with a hint of embarrassment. “This place is a bit humble. I’m planning to sell it next week.”
“Why?” Nol asked.
“My daughter is studying magic on Wintergreen Street. She’s a very talented child.” As he spoke of this, Mr. Kurt puffed out his chest with pride. “My wife rented a servant’s room there, so she can be close to our precious one. I’m alone here… I don’t need such a big house.”
As he cut two limes, his voice grew softer.
“God bless, I hope the Alva Merchant Group will hire me, so my lovely little Kate won’t have to worry about tuition. Studying magic is so expensive!” After finishing the drink, he raised his voice with hope. “Learning magic is very expensive, truly!”
Kurt placed two large cups of a refreshing green drink on the table, which had the fresh scent of mint and the sweet aroma of fruit. For himself, he opened a bottle of subpar wine and began to drink directly from the bottle.
“Actually, we just arrived recently. We only saw the notice today. Who exactly is this ‘Mad Monk’?” Nol tried to change the subject.
“You don’t know about the Mad Monk? Oh, young people nowadays…”
Kurt took several gulps of wine. “He’s a psycho, a murderer, a blasphemer. He, she, or it has been running rampant for over a decade. Even the Temple doesn’t know if that guy is human.”
Teest seemed intrigued. “Then how do they know the kidnapper is the ‘Mad Monk’?”
“It was Miss Swain who said so. A while ago, she claimed she had encountered the Mad Monk and even saw his golden thread. The City Lord dismissed her as delusional and even hired a psychiatrist. And then… poof! She vanished into thin air at the City Lord’s mansion.”
“His Lordship was full of regret, and the Temple’s Investigation Knights were dispatched. But to what end? Miss Swain disappeared as if she had melted like a snowman, with not even a strand of her hair being found.”
As he spoke, Kurt shook his head.
“If it were me, the moment I heard of the ‘Mad Monk’, I’d protect my child immediately. Now, those with children at home guard them more closely than their money.”
“It seems this ‘Mad Monk’ targets children,” Teest tried to summarize.
“Worse than that.” Kurt lowered his voice, adding a hint of mystery. “Regardless of age or gender, the Mad Monk doesn’t discriminate. After killing, he mutilates the bodies and then sews them back together with golden thread.”
“He doesn’t stop there. He positions the bodies to mimic images of disciples from the holy texts, placing them at the church’s entrance as a challenge. He even insists on sewing a smile onto their faces!”
Got it—a religious-themed nutjob. As someone from the modern age with extensive knowledge, Nol quickly grasped the situation.
He might fail the quest he accepted, but it wasn’t a big deal. At least he would learn about the issue of “mission AI going crazy writing R-18G* sidequests”.
*R-18G includes things such as heavy gore and violence (given the Mad Monk’s modus operandi).
Kurt poured the wine into his mouth, and his tone became drunken. “The ‘Mad Monk’ must be from the Eternal Church. Only the Eternal Church would do such a beastly thing. Only the Eternal Church would hate the Temple of Life so much… Fuck the Eternal Church… They all deserve to die…”
Teest and Nol exchanged glances.
“You mean like the owner of the Egret Restaurant?” Nol asked cautiously.
“Ha ha ha ha.”
Kurt laughed. He buried his head, so they couldn’t see his expression.
“Yeah, my boss… Even with the Investigation Knights here, he dared to meet with people from the Eternal Church and got caught… Everyone said the arrest was successful, and only a young man died…”
“Do you know the funniest part of this?”
Kurt raised his head. His face was smiling, but his eyes were bloodshot.
“My son, our sensible good son, was killed by those Eternal cultists. As a result, because I work at Egret, everyone thinks our family is involved with the heretical church, and no one wants to hire me or my wife.”
“Isn’t it ridiculous? …Ah, haha.”
……
When the two left, Kurt was so drunk he was unconscious. Nol pondered for a moment, then neatly packed up the silver tableware and tucked it under Kurt’s pillow.
Before closing the door, he looked at the empty living room for a long time.
“I want to check out the missing person notices again,” Teest suddenly said.
“What?”
Teest yawned. “Since we can’t leave for now, I have to find something to do.”
This meant he was about to take on a quest. Nol felt an inexplicable relief. “Mm, I’ll go with you… I didn’t expect you to have a soft side too.”
“Who says? I’m just curious.” Teest rubbed the back of his head. “Where to next? The Mercenary Guild? The inn?”
“Inn!” Nol answered decisively.
The author has something to say:
Nol: Inn! Inn! Desperately need a roof to return some san*.
*Sanity value.
Teest: In the presence of the producer, discard the main storyline and head straight for the sidequests.
By Chapter 11, our newlyweds finally have a bed to sleep in…
Xing Conglian felt as if cold water had been poured over his head.
Lin Chen’s deep black eyes held no tears, appearing calm and hopeless, devoid of vitality.
Xing Conglian’s mind went blank for a moment, and it took a while for his rationality to return, but the sense of panic still lingered.
However, he was well aware that if he lost control now, Lin Chen would have no one to rely on.
Therefore, he slowly sat up and pulled Lin Chen up as well. They sat cross-legged facing each other on the empty bed board, with an arm’s length between them, like adults who had no romantic relationship, engaging in conversation.
Xing Conglian took a deep breath and spoke seriously, “Setting aside our romantic relationship, Consultant Lin, you must understand that I am your superior.”
“I understand.” Lin Chen tried to gather his strength, but Xing Conglian knew that his current state was very strained.
“At such a critical juncture, I must have a clear understanding of your mental condition to determine if you can continue in your position.”
Lin Chen nodded. Sitting cross-legged, he exposed a pale ankle in the sunlight. “I understand, Captain Xing.”
“Therefore, based on my trust in your professional abilities, I now, in my capacity as your superior, request that you perform a self-diagnosis of your mental state.”
Lin Chen had already guessed that he would make such a request. He slowly turned around, picked up the phone from the bedside table again, and opened another page before handing it over.
Xing Conglian glanced at Lin Chen, then lowered his head and slowly scrolled through the page’s information.
*Created by Aaron T. Beck, is a 21-question multiple-choice self-report inventory, one of the most widely used psychometric tests for measuring the severity of depression. Its development marked a shift among mental health professionals, who had until then, viewed depression from a psychodynamic perspective, instead of it being rooted in the patient’s own thoughts.
Test Instructions:
Please carefully read each item and select the appropriate response based on your actual situation (in the past week, including today) from the four options provided after each question…
Question:
Mood
……
As Xing Conglian followed the selections made by Lin Chen, he continuously scrolled down the page. Each line of options brought him closer to understanding Lin Chen’s true mental state.
By the end, he didn’t even need to look at the score to understand why Lin Chen had laid such a long foundation earlier.
Item 1
Factor Name: Total Score
Factor Score: 41.00*
*Clarity: A score of 41 means severe depression (which is within the worse range 30-63).
He put down the phone, and when he looked up, Lin Chen’s mind seemed to be wandering, lost in thought.
“41 points. According to the standard in our country, I should go see a psychologist. But luckily, I am one myself,” Lin Chen said. “But it doesn’t mean that I have depression. I just assessed my short-term state.”
Xing Conglian pondered for a moment and calmly asked, “So, how long will this condition last? Do you need medication, and to what extent will it affect your work?”
“As soon as I woke up, I felt this abnormality, and this state of mental depression has been worsening over time.” Lin Chen maintained a sharp and professional posture, but his tone was slow. “Just before you came in, the instant I found my phone, I suddenly wondered why I was doing all this. We cannot achieve victory. I felt an overwhelming darkness in life, and everything became meaningless.” He paused for a long while before continuing, “So, I stopped and found the SDS scale, and I did a self-assessment. The results weren’t good.” Lin Chen finished speaking and looked up at Xing Conglian. “You should also sense that I have signs of psychomotor retardation. And when we were lying on this bed just now, I had a strong desire to continue lying there, doing nothing, until death.”
Lin Chen spoke with utmost seriousness, as if reporting his work to a superior, but it was more like the most brutal self-analysis. “I feel very down and depressed right now. I desperately want to experience the joy that normal people feel and make life full of hope, so I want to go find Shen Lian.”
“I disagree,” Xing Conglian replied. He paused and continued, “I won’t agree to you seeking help from Shen Lian for the purpose of obtaining relief through medication. Similarly, if you were to go to Xiao Zhan to obtain TERN isomers, I would stop you as well.”
Lin Chen suddenly looked up, and Xing Conglian watched as his lover became visibly choked up. This was not the emotional response that Lin Chen would have under normal circumstances.
But then, Lin Chen forcefully composed his emotions. If the concept of a soul truly existed, the part belonging to Lin Chen himself would undoubtedly be incredibly resilient and persistent.
Lin Chen said, “Thank you, but you also know very well, Captain Xing, that you don’t have any other choice. I have to go find Shen Lian, although not right now.”
Xing Conglian said, “All of this is based on the premise that you still have the ability to continue.”
“I have two reasons to prove that I can and should continue,” Lin Chen said clearly and precisely. “First, this is the normal acute withdrawal symptom during the detoxification phase. Xiao Wu experienced a period of time after stopping the medication and has already made a significant recovery. This case proves that I should also have the ability to overcome the effects of the medication. Second, if I stop working now and wait for research to progress to alleviate the physiological condition, then it might truly be too late.”
Lin Chen presented his arguments in a formal report-like manner, and Xing Conglian watched him, longing to pull him close and hold him tightly in his arms. But he also understood that Lin Chen didn’t need that kind of sympathy.
Therefore, he maintained his professional attitude and asked, “On the second point, why will it be too late?”
“During our conversation just now, I suddenly realized that the person orchestrating this grand situation, I think, I might know them.” Lin Chen’s voice sounded buzzing and somewhat low. “I need to go to the library, translate that message, and verify this.”
After saying those words, Lin Chen bowed down, as if he had used up all his strength.
Xing Conglian felt Lin Chen’s forehead against his shoulder, and he lowered his head to see Lin Chen’s black hair. He then opened his palm and firmly held the back of Lin Chen’s head, embracing him tightly.
He kissed the top of Lin Chen’s head, abandoning all sense of responsibility as a superior.
“Thank you, Xing Conglian,” Lin Chen said.
……
Lin Chen was always at the world’s leading level when it came to persuading people.
After the conversation, Lin Chen seemed to have regained some composure, but Xing Conglian was certain that it was a facade to reassure Wang Chao when they walked out of the door.
The Hongjing Library was very close to their home, about a ten-minute walk away.
Although time was tight now and using a computer for literature retrieval would be faster, since Lin Chen wanted to go to the library, Xing Conglian was more than happy to accompany him for a walk outside.
For a total score of 41, it was recommended Lin Chen should confide in someone or vent appropriately when feeling depressed, make an effort to recall past happy experiences, and engage in activities that bring joy. It was also advised to set goals and make plans for one’s life and work. It was recommended to seek professional psychological counseling and treatment as soon as possible.
Xing Conglian recited the advice he had just read once again, and when he looked up, Lin Chen had already walked ahead of him.
At noon, there weren’t many elderly people strolling in the alley, and the shop owners either gathered together for lunch or dozed off at their counters.
Xing Conglian quickened his pace, wanting to catch up and walk side by side with Lin Chen.
Just then, an old man from a nearby souvenir shop came out to bid farewell to a customer. Lin Chen took a quick step forward, deliberately keeping a less intimate distance from him.
Xing Conglian narrowed his eyes, recalling many similar situations in his mind. They had walked this road together many times, but it was the first time he noticed this kind of detail about Lin Chen.
Taking advantage of the moment when Lin Chen nodded and greeted the old man, he brushed against Lin Chen’s side, took his hand, and held it tightly.
Lin Chen’s body visibly tensed, but the old man seemed to have not noticed the scene and turned back into the shop.
“Consultant Lin, how come I didn’t notice when you were pursuing me? Your attitude towards same-sex relationships is unexpectedly conservative.” Of course, he was referring to the moment when Lin Chen pushed him against the wall and kissed him forcefully. Thinking of this, he couldn’t help but click his tongue.
Lin Chen didn’t pull his hand away but instead held it back and simply said, “Society’s acceptance hasn’t reached a level where everyone takes it for granted. There’s no need to deliberately challenge anything…”
“Consultant Lin, if it were still a feudal society, all of these people would be tenants. Have you ever seen a feudal novel where the landlord considers the feelings of the tenants?” Xing Conglian held Lin Chen’s hand. His skin was delicate, and his knuckles were well-proportioned. Xing Conglian held it with great satisfaction, to the point where his tone became natural.
When he said this, Lin Chen finally turned his head and glanced at him.
“I didn’t hide it from you. I told you the first time I took you home,” Xing Conglian interjected, “Where else can you find an honest man like me?”
Hearing this, a helpless expression finally appeared on Lin Chen’s face. However, he didn’t refute him with words, which greatly satisfied Xing Conglian’s vanity.
They had walked this path together many times, with gentle sunlight and the late summer river presenting a lush green color of aquatic plants, creating a sense of tranquility.
When he initially chose to live here, it was because the area was peaceful and had a high level of sophistication, making it suitable as a quiet residence for retirement. However, now the words “retirement” had become a dreadful curse.
Xing Conglian had considered more than once that when Consultant Lin and he pooled their money to buy a new house and pay the down payment, they should first consider things like feng shui. And it would be better to buy a commercial property with only two rooms—a master bedroom and a study—because if there were more rooms, Wang Chao would want to move in too…
But as these thoughts wandered in his mind, they were dispersed by the breeze. Their palms pressed together, and the warmth grew.
Xing Conglian glanced to his side, with Lin Chen walking on his right. His footsteps were light, and his figure was slender yet powerful. His profile was particularly handsome, with his hair growing slightly longer since he hadn’t had time to trim it, covering his ears a bit but still revealing their contours, making people itch to pinch them.
Being the proactive type he was, Xing Conglian immediately raised his other hand and gently brushed away Lin Chen’s dark hair, lightly touching his ears.
Lin Chen immediately turned around; a look of astonishment flashed in his eyes, but he didn’t resist, just appearing somewhat bewildered.
In any case, he looked incredibly adorable.
No pedestrians passed by around them. Xing Conglian took a step back, leaning against a willow tree by the water. He pulled Lin Chen closer, cradling the back of his head, and lowered his head to lick Lin Chen’s lips, feeling a slight dryness, yet they were incredibly soft.
Lin Chen still had his eyes open, looking up at him. The sunlight seeped through the gaps in the leaves, and perhaps because of this, Lin Chen’s previously slightly stern features softened.
Xing Conglian carefully traced the contours of Lin Chen’s face, then lowered his head again and kissed him.
Their teeth touched gently, their mouths warm and sweet, like a dream.
As the breeze blew, Lin Chen closed his eyes and finally embraced him.
Kinky Thoughts:
Generally speaking, even if one is a professional psychologist, they really shouldn’t treat themselves. While as experts they can identify their illness and issues, they have their own biases of themselves, which could affect treatment. There are things (such as the test Lin Chen did) that can help bring some clarity and give them some objectiveness, but it’s still best to see another professional to treat oneself.
Though, many don’t as they fear the stigma (ironically).
Len Chen was very sharp. Upon hearing the words, he rolled over and propped himself up to look at Xing Conglian. With Xing Conglian’s handsome face very close to his nose, Lin Chen raised an eyebrow and keenly remarked, “So, did you peek at my messages?”
“There’s a unified security process in place. The system filters the messages you receive, and if any abnormal information is detected, there will be an alert.” Xing Conglian pulled Lin Chen down and laid back in their previous position. “Look, it’s for your safety, baby. You have to trust me; I would never peek at your messages, and the keywords are definitely not something like ‘darling’ or ‘see you at the usual place tomorrow night’. But this message looked too much like spam, so it slipped through.” Xing Conglian joked, “Besides, I didn’t know if that little brat Wang Chao told you, but later, I’ll go bear that kid up to vent my anger.”
“Actually, I don’t mind if you peek at my messages,” Lin Chen said.
“I really didn’t peek.”
“For others, reading someone’s messages implies a lack of trust or something like that, but for me, if you actually did it, I would be happy,” Lin Chen said. “It would mean that you care about me—that you lack a sense of security in our relationship, afraid that I might run off with someone else. It’s a sign of insecurity. Honestly, I’m not someone who feels very secure either. I also need these normal and ordinary details that come up in a relationship to ascertain that you love me.”
The sound of flowing water outside the window became clearer and clearer. Lin Chen’s breath fell on his neck and chest, while the tone of their conversation flowed like clean and clear water, with each word hitting him in the heart.
Xing Conglian let out a long sigh. Lin Chen always spoke so straightforwardly, making it impossible to resist. He once again found himself in a situation where, no matter how hard he tried to love Lin Chen, it never seemed enough.
But he couldn’t help but wonder if they could still lie down together and talk when they grew older. It would be a truly fortunate life for him if he could still hear Lin Chen’s views on love.
“I love you. I’m very certain of it,” Xing Conglian said.
……
Lin Chen rested his head on Xing Conglian’s shoulder.
The bed had no soft mattress or bedsheet, and the rough feeling was very uncomfortable.
Xing Conglian’s shoulder joint was stiff, and his chest was wrapped in strong muscles underneath the shoulder. Lin Chen had to lean against this position, which was quite uncomfortable.
Seeing Xing Conglian’s posture, Lin Chen knew that he hadn’t had much experience in relationships. His movements were stiff, but luckily, the feeling of his voice constantly passing through his chest and into his ears was pleasant. Therefore, he changed his strategy.
He turned to his side and reached out to embrace the other person’s waist. Feeling like it wasn’t enough, he also pressed his leg on top.
This action wasn’t aesthetically pleasing, but it was very comfortable and reassuring.
Because of the comfort, they could talk more and go deeper.
“We haven’t finished talking about your grandmother,” Lin Chen patted Xing Conglian’s buttocks and said softly.
Xing Conglian kissed his ear and calmly said, “My grandmother ultimately committed suicide.” Xing Conglian’s voice was long and distant. “She ate a bullet and died a heroic death.”
Lin Chen wasn’t surprised. From the moment Xing Conglian mentioned it, he believed this was the inevitable outcome.
The clouds outside the window glided by in a soothing and unpredictable manner. Lin Chen closed his eyes and asked in a low voice, “Some kind of mental or psychological illness?”
“Alzheimer’s*. I was still young back then and didn’t understand much,” Xing Conglian said. “But even then, I wondered, why is the human brain so strange? My grandmother had such a grand and magnificent life, but as she grew old, she became like an extremely immature child, gradually forgetting everything. I remember when she saw me for the last time, she mistook me for her childhood playmate and pulled me, wanting to ride a black bear.”
*Neurodegenerative disease that usually starts slowly and progressively worsens. It is the cause of 60–70% of cases of dementia. The most common early symptom is difficulty in remembering recent events. As the disease advances, symptoms can include problems with language, disorientation (including easily getting lost), mood swings, loss of motivation, self-neglect, and behavioral issues. As a person’s condition declines, they often withdraw from family and society. Gradually, bodily functions are lost, ultimately leading to death.
As Xing Conglian spoke of this past, his tone carried confusion and puzzlement, but Lin Chen was certain that Xing Conglian had a purpose in telling this story.
However, at this moment, he just wanted to listen to Xing Conglian talk about his past.
“And then?”
“And then… there was no ‘then’. The family couldn’t do anything about it because it’s an incurable disease. And since my grandma had the highest seniority in the family, all they could do was bring her a docile black bear. It had to be ensured that the bear wouldn’t harm anyone, had a gentle temperament, and also prevented the old lady from shooting the bear. In short, those years were chaotic in our household. Then, one day, the old lady regained her consciousness, or rather, her condition worsened. But we preferred to believe the former—that she was very clear when she made that choice. Though it was just a brief moment, she chose a bottle of vodka in her left hand and a revolver in her right hand, and in an extremely heroic and interesting way, she ended her life.”
Xing Conglian’s tone wasn’t sorrowful, and Lin Chen didn’t feel it was a sad story either.
“To live brilliantly and die with dignity—many people long for that,” he said.
“I thought you would comfort me.”
“I’m not that conventional,” Lin Chen said. “And by the way, your family’s pet is really creative.”
“That’s nothing. Next time, I’ll take you home to see the little creatures I’ve raised,” Xing Conglian proudly said.
Lin Chen knew that the words “take you home” were heartfelt and sincere.
But at this moment, he still had to break this atmosphere.
“The story is good, with a cruel beauty, but did you misunderstand something?” He forcefully sat up, patted Xing Conglian’s abs, and said, “My situation is not the same as your grandmother’s.”
“Although the specific directions may be different, the problems here are fundamentally connected.” Xing Conglian raised his hand very knowingly and pointed at the center of Lin Chen’s brows. “So, Consultant Lin, I will do everything I can, but the only one I have been powerless against is you. What is your current condition? Please perform a self-diagnosis. I’m making this request as your lover and as your superior.”
“I have been asking myself that question too.” Lin Chen held Xing Conglian’s fingertip and kissed it, then let go of his hand and got off the bed.
Xing Conglian looked at the wrinkles on Lin Chen’s shirt, revealing a glimpse of his waist that was exposed when Xing Conglian lifted it.
He watched as Lin Chen bent down and took two bottles of lemon-flavored soda from the cupboard, unscrewed the caps, handed one bottle over, and sat back on the bed, speaking in an extremely calm tone. “In fact, Shen Lian needs something. It becomes a shackle around my neck—that’s when it becomes interesting.”
Lin Chen said this.
“So what?”
“So this involves the essence of the medication, the underlying purpose of the puppet master.” Lin Chen paused. “We know that this medication’s side effects make people become manic and lose themselves, but Xiao Wu’s recovery, including my temporary clarity, also tells us that high doses of the drug taken in a short period of time won’t drive people completely insane. It metabolizes quickly, allowing temporary recovery. That’s why this medication needs to be taken long-term, right?”
“You can say that.”
Lin Chen nodded and took out his phone. A message from Su Fengzi appeared on the screen.
“Fengzi just went to Hongjing Hospital and obtained similar results…”
He said up to this point, but Xing Conglian interrupted him.
“I’ve never seen such an elusive person. So, does Three Graves really exist? Is Su Fengzi the leader of Thee Graves, or is it you?” Xing Conglian asked.
“Don’t bring up that which doesn’t need to be brought up.” Lin Chen glared at him and bent down to give him a punishing kiss. “Listen to me…”
“Kiss me again, and I’ll listen to you.”
Xing Conglian was extremely stubborn, and taking advantage of Lin Chen’s distraction, he pulled him back onto the bed, seriously threatening him. “Please, Consultant Lin, continue speaking in this posture. If you move around again, I’ll change positions.”
Lin Chen had no choice but to adjust his sleeping position, resting his head on Xing Conglian’s chest, lying on his side, and spoke in a soft voice. “Fengzi also reviewed the cases from Yongchuan Hospital. We can observe that a small number of patients have regained their consciousness. This indicates that although the same medication has different effects on different individuals, overall, everyone is improving.”
“Then what is the shackle, Consultant Lin?” Xing Conglian asked sternly.
“Most psychiatric drugs work by affecting the brain’s neurotransmitters, which in itself is quite amusing. We always think we can control ourselves, but in reality, whether it’s dopamine, acetylcholine, serotonin, norepinephrine, or others, these subtle changes in neurotransmitters can fundamentally alter a person. It can lead to addiction or a range of psychiatric disorders. It can make you a saint or a madman,” Lin Chen said while gently stroking his furrowed brow, his voice unusually gentle.
Xing Conglian’s heart felt as though it had been tightly squeezed, and he shuddered all over, even more fearful because of Lin Chen’s calmness.
But in this tender yet chilling moment, he, in a fleeting instant, felt that he had grasped the key to the entire situation. He seemed to realize what the puppet master behind the scenes truly wanted to achieve, but he couldn’t quite capture that crucial point.
He believed that Lin Chen must understand more, but at this moment, Lin Chen couldn’t verbally tell him the truth of the whole matter.
“It’s like when you’re in a dream; it’s difficult to realize that you’re dreaming,” Lin Chen said. “All human thought processes rely on the coordinated action of brain neurons and these neurotransmitters. If you ask me what changes Shen Lian’s medication will bring to the brain, I can tell you with certainty that it likely affects monoamine neurotransmitters*. Like all drugs, it has different stages. In the initial stage, it can cause a loss of rationality and agitation. In the relaxation phase, it can induce a sense of ease and calmness. And in the declining phase, after the neurotransmitter levels in the brain have fluctuated, it can trigger a series of physiological compensatory or antagonistic reactions. I don’t know exactly how it works.”
*Neurotransmitters and neuromodulators that contain one amino group connected to an aromatic ring by a two-carbon chain, such as dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin. They are used in monoaminergic systems, which regulate the process of things like emotion, arousal, and certain types of memory.
Lin Chen’s tone was calm as he lay there on Xing Conglian’s chest, gazing serenely at him. But just speaking these few sentences seemed to drain all the strength from Lin Chen’s body. “Xing Conglian, I lied to you just now. I’m feeling very uneasy right now, and I really want to go find Shen Lian, truly.”
In the “Lonely” courtyard, Qi Xin casually chose a “Lonely” to lean on and rest.
The “Lonely” that was used as a cushion dared not speak up. It obediently lay there, curling its soft limbs into a ball. In the small courtyard where the seasons mixed, Qi Xin leisurely passed the time, appearing somewhat content.
“Why don’t you go help that cub?” A voice abruptly interjected.
The Lonely cats perked up at the news, but upon confirming the speaker, they lazily returned to their original positions.
A woman stood at the entrance of the courtyard, draped in a snow-white knitted cloak that almost swallowed her whole. The cloak was made of thick and rigid threads, resembling miniature human arms. Half of the woman’s face was hidden behind the cloak, making her features indistinct.
Qi Xin: “I’ve taught him everything he needs to know. If he’s willing to devote himself to humans, then let him go.”
“I’m asking why ‘you’ don’t go.” The woman’s lips curled up while she spoke with a voice as gentle as water. “After finally finding the cub of Fear, it should be properly taken care of.”
Qi Xin: “Properly taken care of? I don’t intend to risk my life for him… especially when you’re the opponent. I’m not that foolish.”
“Love” quietly stood by the door, without responding.
Qi Xin rolled her eyes unreservedly. Love had been hitting the gap with its body, too weak at that point to maintain control over humans for long periods of time. Now, it could not only control humans but also use them as vessels, carrying fragments of itself to walk on the Other Side.
Right now, there was no difference between it and Qi Xin.
“Just eating ‘Joy’ alone wouldn’t give you this kind of power,” Qi Xin said. “Is it because of that broken net of yours? What have you done?”
“Even if I tell you, you won’t easily change your stance,” Love gently replied. “I’m just giving you a reminder. It’s a good habit to leave room for possibilities. I hope you can persevere with it.”
Qi Xin absentmindedly played with the cat’s soft limbs, lowering her gaze.
This was a self-reflection.
On the night when “Fear” fell a thousand years ago, “Sorrow” concealed its true form. Qi Xin, as one of the oldest and most powerful Primordial Elementals, could only be found by other Elementals if she intentionally revealed herself. The only exception was “Satisfaction”. Since then, Qi Xin could only manipulate a tiny portion of her body to walk on the Other Side. She wouldn’t obey Love’s orders or deliberately oppose them; she was just barely getting by.
For Love, she was ultimately an uncertain factor.
“I see. Leaving room for possibilities. No wonder you came to warn me in person.”
Qi Xin’s tone remained steady.
“Don’t worry, no matter how the cub and you end up fighting, ‘I’ won’t intervene.”
It was hard to say whether that thing was a proper cub, but even without Love’s assurance, Qi Xin wouldn’t act recklessly.
Love bowed her head towards Qi Xin, performing a human-like gesture. A strand of soft black hair peeked out from under the cloak, slightly curled at the ends. Then she turned around and walked towards the exit of the small courtyard.
“Hey.”
Qi Xin released her grip on the cat’s soft limbs.
“I mean, as long as you choose the wrong path, whether you dance ballet or crawl forward, wrong is wrong.”
Love turned around; the pale end of her cloak engulfed in white mist.
“Who says there is so much right or wrong?”
She spoke softly.
“According to your words, humans shouldn’t overcome diseases and slow down aging. They shouldn’t prevent natural disasters and research methods to increase productivity? It’s ‘right’ for nature to take its course. Survival of the fittest and all, right? I can’t achieve perfection all at once, that’s all.”
Qi Xin laughed out loud. “You really are the most human-like, even in the aspect of self-righteousness—just as long as the purpose is benevolent, the resulting losses can be ignored?”
“I will atone.” Love’s voice became softer. “After everything is over, I will take responsibility for the chaos on the Other Side that has lasted for thousands of years.”
Qi Xin: “Taking responsibility isn’t just empty words. Let me make it clear: you still have a chance now—the cub of Fear has self-awareness. You can negotiate with him and find alternative solutions.”
Love’s voice grew fainter. “It was born in the human world. It has no sense of belonging to the Other Side. Giving absolute power to ‘outsiders’ is truly foolish.”
Qi Xin shook her head and remained silent.
She looked at the “Lonely” cats not far away. The Lonely cats still had ample food supply. Several larger ones were using tablecloths to wrap up newborn Lonely cats, guiding them to feed.
This scene used to be commonplace, but now it could probably only be seen in a few select groups, like the “Lonely” cats.
“Forget it.” Qi Xin sighed. “You can go now.”
“No need to worry. That cub still helped me, and I have a better solution now.” Love pulled down her hood. “It will be a flawless, perfect solution.”
……
“You, Unit 9—aren’t you the best at finding missing people?” Hu Tao said dreamily.
Huang Jin’s face turned as dark as the bottom of a pot. The surroundings were silent and white, and he was already annoyed by the flashes outside. Upon hearing that there were more dangers than fortunes outside, he wished he could escape on the spot.
How could the legendary Great Celestial Master not even control his own ghost! Moreover, even if the ghost was looking for someone, if it were really following the spirit contract, it should have found Yin Ren. How did this ghost end up coming their way?
Wait, could it be…
Huang Jin stared at Zhong Chengshuo in disbelief. He had just felt that Zhong Chengshuo’s bag seemed to have more flesh and blood than theirs, bulging and full.
Thinking that Yin Ren was highly likely to be here, Huang Jin’s emotions quickly calmed down again. With Yin Ren and Zhong Chengshuo by their side, even if something still happened, he was afraid he would be doomed anyway.
Lu Xiaohe held her mother tightly, not moving at all, almost biting her lips until they bled. At her feet, white threads were sneakily crawling around, trying to entangle Lu Xioahe’s unconscious mother.
“What happened outside?” Zhong Chengshuo asked straightforwardly. “We need accurate information to develop a search plan.”
Hu Tao’s tone was solemn. “This is someone else’s territory, and you trespassed. The people outside are going to be eaten by Elementals. But you are different—you are my acquaintances, and at least you can keep your lives.”
“Thank you.” Zhong Chengshuo looked at the face that was nothing but broken flesh. “Do you have any photos or something of the person you’re looking for?”
Hu Tao paused, as if she hadn’t considered this question before, and had no answer for a moment.
At the same time, Zhong Chengshuo’s mind raced at high speed. Countless threads crawled over his feet and slowly moved away.
Why is she searching for someone?
Love was stuck in the cracks and couldn’t act freely. Even if it exerted its power, Hu Tao was just a ghost. How could she possibly resist the Fear cub? If Hu Tao only used her abilities to locate Yin Ren and summon the Elementals to besiege them, Zhong Chengshuo could somewhat understand. Giving Hu Tao power, allowing her to attack Unit 9, and then granting her what she wanted afterward seemed reasonable.
But now, Hu Tao was only accompanying them to find the missing person she cared about, not directly attacking them.
It was too strange, almost like…
[Buying time.] Yin Ren muttered loudly in Zhong Chengshuo’s mind.
[I understand.] Zhong Chengshuo reassured him by patting the backpack.
“Well, I figured it out. I know how to help you find the person.” Hu Tao pondered for a long time, pushing aside her blood-soaked hair. “You can meet him. Isn’t that enough?”
Immediately, a tidal wave of memories flooded into everyone’s minds from Hu Tao. It was probably Love’s power helping out. Instead of materializing, these memories instantly penetrated everyone’s consciousness.
A living Hu Tao was reading a book in her bedroom. Her complexion was rosy, and her hair was fluffy and clean, shimmering with a beautiful luster. A woman in her fifties was sitting by the bed, making a phone call.
At that time, the decoration of the house had a rustic warmth and was filled with the aroma of fireworks.
Hu Tao got tired of reading and put down the book, hugging the waist of the woman beside her. “Mom.”
“Your aunt just said, don’t go out these days. It’s chaotic outside. Children are missing, and there’s trouble everywhere. I don’t know what’s going on.” Hu Tao’s mother hung up the phone and stroked her daughter’s hair. “Luckily, your father and I came over. Otherwise, I would be worried sick.”
“We also have A’Shen here. We have a lot of people, so we’re not afraid.” Hu Tao smiled happily.
“Wife, taste it. Your mother said you should eat light food during pregnancy. I didn’t dare to put too much salt.”
Before Hu Tao could respond, a young man entered the bedroom carrying a bowl of spare rib soup.
The man wasn’t particularly handsome, with dark skin and slightly chubby, but he had thick eyebrows and big eyes and a well-proportioned appearance. He glanced at Hu Tao’s mother with a smile, showing a hint of nervousness.
“I’ll taste it!” Hu Tao sat up. Her body barely showed any signs of pregnancy.
She took a sip of the soup from the man’s spoon and nodded in satisfaction. “It’s very flavorful. A’Shen, you’re really good at cooking.”
The young man smiled, his brows curving. “Of course! I picked the best meat!”
After speaking, he hesitated and looked at Hu Tao’s mother for a while. Finally, he mustered up the courage and kissed his wife on the forehead.
Hu Tao’s mother looked at the man with an affectionate smile. “Xiao Shen, if you’re tired, you can rest. I’ll take care of the soup.”
“No need, I can cook.” A’Shen quickly waved his hand. “It’ll be ready in a moment. You can rest.”
Hu Tao’s mother continued to smile gently. “My hands are free. How about I go out and buy some groceries? It’s been restless recently. Just for these few days, police cars have come seven or eight times—all sorts of things happening.”
A’Shen: “It’s chaotic outside. I’ll go with you this afternoon.”
“What a good boy.”
As the two of them were chatting, suddenly a banging sound came from outside the door, indicating an unwelcome visitor. A’Shen made a hand gesture to Hu Tao, indicating that she should stay in the bedroom. Then he grabbed a knife from the table. “Who is it?”
“Open the door!” An elderly man shouted from outside. “It’s me, Lao Hu. I was attacked by a lunatic outside!”
A’Shen leaned in to look through the peephole for a few moments and quickly opened the door. Upon hearing that her father was in trouble, Hu Tao couldn’t help herself and walked out of the bedroom, looking concerned in the living room.
Creak.
The heavy security door opened, and the frail old man was shoved inside. He was covered in blood, gasping in pain.
“Lao Hu!” “Dad!” Hu Tao’s mother and Hu Tao exclaimed almost simultaneously.
Hu Tao’s father fell to the ground, revealing the assailant behind him—a burly man with bulging eyes and a blood-stained knife in his hand. He immediately rushed into the house, closed the security door, and blocked the kitchen entrance.
“Mom, take Hu Tao to the bedroom!” A’Shen shouted. “I’ll save Dad!”
Hu Tao’s mother almost collapsed, but upon hearing those words, she seemed to regain her strength. She firmly grabbed Hu Tao’s wrist and dragged her toward the bedroom. “Daughter, daughter, hide and call the police!”
Hu Tao’s mother’s eyes were filled with tears. She locked the bedroom door and dragged the bedside tables and chairs in front of it. But that wasn’t enough. After blocking the bedroom, she pulled Hu Tao into the master bathroom and locked the door from the inside.
Unfortunately, there were few things in the bathroom that could be used to block the door. Hu Tao’s mother could only protect Hu Tao with her own body. Her body was stiff, and her hands and feet were ice-cold. Her breathing became rapid and frightening.
Hu Tao frantically dialed the phone, calling 110 and then 120. She called every emergency number she could think of. Then she curled up next to her mother by the toilet, clinging to her tightly.
There’s a killer in the house. Save us.
My father is seriously injured. Save us.
The scenes from action movies were deceiving. There were no angry shouts or screams coming from the living room, only the muffled sounds of bodies colliding and heavy objects falling. Mixed within were the groans of an elderly man. Those sounds passed through layers of doors and were barely audible in the bathroom. Every second felt like torture, cutting through her skin like a knife.
Hu Tao looked at the frosted glass door of the bathroom with tears streaming down her cheeks. Her mother was beside her, and she didn’t dare cry too loudly, fearing it would overwhelm the emotions of the elderly woman.
Just a few minutes ago, this home was peaceful. Soup was stewing in the kitchen, and the rice cooker was cooking rice. Both her parents and her beloved were by her side. It should have been the safest place in the world.
Finally, the strange noises in the living room stopped.
Hu Tao’s whole body shivered. She held her mother tightly, her gaze fixed on the glass door of the bathroom, as if it were the last line of defense in the world.
“It’s alright, it’s alright!” A familiar but weak voice came from the living room. “Mom, wife… Ah, why won’t this door open?”
Just as Hu Tao was about to get up, her mother held her back.
“I’ll go and check.” She gently touched her daughter’s hair. “You stay here. Don’t go anywhere.”
After saying that, Hu Tao’s mother cautiously left the bathroom.
Hu Tao sat in the gap between the toilet and the bathtub, listening to her mother’s conversation with her beloved. She could smell the scent of peaches and the fragrance of shampoo in her hair. Outside the small bathroom window, the weather was unusually gloomy. Dark clouds gathered together, like a massive vortex.
Thump, thump, thump. Her heart pounded frantically.
Outside the door, the conversation between her mother and her beloved gradually became calmer. Another voice joined in, seemingly a police officer or doctor who came to inquire. Mixed within the conversation were the sounds of her mother slowly moving heavy objects.
Finally, there was the heavy sound of the security door being closed. The sound of movement ceased, and it seemed that her mother had successfully reached the living room, remembering to close the door behind her.
The normal conversation voices weren’t loud, and now Hu Tao couldn’t hear anything clearly anymore.
Is everything… alright?
Great, we’re safe. She knew it all along. This was the safest place in the world.
“Mom? A’Shen? I’m coming out!” Hu Tao shouted loudly when there was no response from the bedroom for a while. “How’s Dad? Did the ambulance take him away?”
There was silence in response.
What’s going on?
Why is no one answering?
Just as Hu Tao was about to worry, she saw her mother’s figure faintly through the frosted glass. Black hair, ivory skin, red clothes were turned into vague blocks by the frosted glass.
“Mom…” Hu Tao breathed a sigh of relief and reached out her hand toward the bedroom door.
…Huh?
Was Mom wearing red today?
“Mom?” Hu Tao’s voice was hoarse and trembling. “A’Shen? Dad? Mom?”
Still, no one answered, and the figure of her mother disappeared from the door. Only the sound of slippers stepping on the floor could be heard as a string of footsteps left the bedroom.
Hu Tao’s mind was in chaos. It must be her own imagination. A’Shen and she were childhood friends. They had known each other since they were young, and their families were also friends. A’Shen said everything was fine, so what could possibly go wrong?
With her eyes closed, Hu Tao eventually opened the door.
She saw a large amount of blood.
The warm wooden floor was stained with blood. The carefully selected furniture she had chosen was scattered all over the place. The soft bedding was pulled apart, no different from when she had left, contrasting sharply with the strong smell of blood.
Drip, drip. Something was making noise in the living room.
Hu Tao swallowed her saliva and held back her sobs as she cautiously peeked into the living room.
The kitchen door was tightly shut and stained with blood with the aroma of meat soup seeped out from the gap. The living room was a mess, and the glass coffee table was shattered. Potted plants were knocked over, and the TV hung crookedly on the wall, exposing vein-like wiring. The walls and the floor were splattered with red stains.
The crazed man was gone; her parents were gone; only her beloved was… mopping the floor.
Drip, drip. The old mop wiped over the bloodstains, leaving behind a pale red mark.
Even though Hu Tao wasn’t wearing shoes, her footsteps were silent. But A’Shen seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. He stopped mopping, wiped the sweat off his face, and said, “Darling.”
There were still traces of blood on his face that hadn’t been cleaned.
With ups and downs, her brain didn’t know how to explain everything in front of her, nor did it know whether to be nervous or relaxed.
“Mom, Dad…?”
“Your dad’s wound looks scary, but it’s not serious. Your mom went to the hospital with him.” A’Shen smiled. “Were you scared by the bloodstains? It was on your mom’s body. She just went to the bedroom to get two sets of clean clothes.”
Hu Tao stared at her husband blankly.
“Don’t be afraid. That guy earlier was just drunk and caused harm. The police took him away. It’s alright, darling. You should go and rest for a while. Don’t stress yourself.”
“Why…” Hu Tao swallowed her saliva, forcing herself to fight off dizziness. “Why didn’t Mom say anything to me before she left?”
“Dad was bleeding heavily, so there was no time.” A’Shen stopped mopping and turned his face to her. “I told you, you got scared for no reason. Look, you’re just overthinking again, aren’t you?”
Hu Tao tried to lift the corners of her mouth, but her face seemed frozen, completely unresponsive.
It was like desperately trying to believe that everything was fine, and the person she trusted the most assured her that nothing was wrong. She should believe him. How she wished she could believe him. But why couldn’t she calm down no matter what?
The door to the windowsill was open, and the gentle breeze swayed the curtains. The door to the bedroom was open, revealing a glimpse of the chaos inside. Only the kitchen door was tightly shut, with two distinct blood handprints on it.
It was like a black hole, crazily drawing Hu Tao’s attention.
Light seeped into the living room through the gap in the door, but it seemed to be obstructed by something, casting intermittent shadows. The simmering sound of soup, accompanied by the faint noise of the stove, normality mixed with the abnormal, making Hu Tao uneasy to the point of feeling cold.
“The kitchen door.”
Hu Tao murmured.
“Why is the kitchen door closed so tightly? A’Shen, I want to have a bowl of soup…”
A’Shen’s expression changed slightly. “Mm, I’ll serve it for you. You take a break.”
“There’s so much blood in the bedroom, I don’t want to lie down.” She looked into his eyes. “I’ll serve it myself.”
With that said, when her husband wasn’t paying attention, Hu Tao rushed into the kitchen. A’Shen didn’t stop her; he stood there leaning on the mop, showing a hint of helplessness on his face.
The door slowly opened.
Her mother’s terrified face exploded like a bomb, instantly shattering Hu Tao’s thoughts—
Behind the bathroom door was a scene of chaos. On the other side of the bedroom door stood her husband.
The rest of them were behind the kitchen door.
Her mother’s throat had been slit, and her pale-colored nightgown was dyed blood-red. She tightly covered the wound with her hand, but the wound was too deep. Her mother’s eyes were wide open, filled with fear, her mouth unable to close, as if she wanted to scream something.
Her lifeless body was stacked on top of her father’s corpse. The skin on Hu Tao’s father, beyond the bloodstains, was a terrifying pale. He curled up his body, like a piece of decoration in this kitchen. The look of surprise still remained on his face, unable to recover from the peaceful days.
Hu Tao attempted to find some signs of breathing on her parents’ bodies, but she couldn’t find any.
There were more below.
The intruder was lying at the bottom. His neck was twisted in a strange manner, and his bulging eyes were fixed in a certain direction. Madness filled his brows, while tears stained his eyeballs.
The pool of blood spread along the kitchen tiles. In the reflection of the black and red mess, a pot of soup bubbled, emitting white steam.
Maybe she should faint, Hu Tao thought. Her head throbbed with pain, her lips felt numb, and her limbs were paralyzed as if they didn’t exist, yet she was awake, still standing in the same spot, forced to witness this nightmarish scene.
Just this morning, she was complaining to her father about eating too many fried dough sticks, saying it was bad for his health. Just a moment ago, she was tightly hugging her mother, with her mother’s warmth and scent still lingering in her embrace.
How could they not be here anymore?
“Why aren’t you serving the soup?” A’Shen asked softly.
Instinctively, Hu Tao took a few steps back and bumped into her husband’s embrace. That familiar warmth now made her heart pound, and Hu Tao almost screamed in horror.
“Are you afraid of all this?” A’Shen grabbed Hu Tao’s shoulders and pulled her towards him. “I can’t help it either. It’s your parents’ fault.”
Hu Tao’s lips trembled, and she wanted to call the police, but her hands couldn’t grasp the phone. The phone had fallen into the pool of blood, stained with black and red.
“I killed that scum. I had hidden everything perfectly and even sent the police away. Just think about it, that scumbag came into our home with a knife! If it were in ○ country, I could have killed him legally.”
A’Shen tightened his grip on Hu Tao’s shoulders, his words even pleading.
“But your dad kept looking at me with those eyes… as if I had done something wrong.”
Hu Tao opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
“He would have definitely reported me if he went out. Honey, think about it. If I’m caught and thrown in prison, our child will never hold their head up high for the rest of their life. He’s supposed to be your biological father, but he stood on the side of the criminal! He definitely doesn’t love you!”
“Let me go…” Hu Tao murmured.
“Your mom, too. She insisted on looking when she saw the kitchen door closed. This is our home. Can’t she mind her own business? After she saw it, her reaction was the same as your dad’s—she completely disregarded our family, our child.”
A’Shen’s tone carried even more grievance.
“After all these years, they know how much I love you and know I would never do anything to hurt you. But it’s okay, honey. Even if your parents don’t care about you and our child, I’m here. I’ll take good care of you in the future, ah.”
Lunatic.
Hu Tao sluggishly thought.
This must be a nightmare, it must be.
Anyway… Anyway, pretend that everything is fine for now and find an opportunity to escape. Hu Tao’s body trembled uncontrollably, but she swallowed her screams, forced back her tears, and squeezed out an awkward smile. “Okay.”
“I knew it. The mother of my child understands me the most.” A’Shen kissed her forehead. “You can serve the soup yourself. I’ll clean up the house first.”
With that, he bent down and picked up the phone that Hu Tao had dropped in the pool of blood.
Hu Tao opened the lid of the pot, and the rich aroma of meat filled the air. With trembling hands, she grabbed a spoon and slowly ladled the soup into a bowl. Later, she would call A’Shen over and throw the hot soup at him… then find an opportunity to open the security door and escape.
Yes, that’s what she would do. She couldn’t cry; she couldn’t break down. She had to smile.
The sound of the iron spoon touching the enamel pot rim rang crisply. Hu Tao took cautious steps, almost tripping over the arm of the burly man sprawled out on the floor.
She couldn’t afford any mistakes. Hu Tao tried to squeeze out the last remnants of rationality. She crouched down and moved the man’s arm—his hand reaching out desperately, as if trying to grab something.
Hu Tao followed his arm and saw the huge refrigerator in the corner. The refrigerator door wasn’t closed properly, with a plastic bag caught in the seal.
It was the door they usually used to store frozen goods. Hu Tao didn’t cook much; it was mostly A’Shen who organized it.
Don’t be nosy.
But…
‘Don’t be nosy,’ she thought.
But…
Hu Tao felt like the string in her mind was about to snap. Her parents’ bodies lay at her feet, while scalding hot soup sat in the pot. Countless dark thoughts bubbled up like foam in the soup, bubbling and disturbing her peace of mind.
She had to escape, but she also wanted answers.
Coincidentally, A’Shen had his back turned, tidying up the sofa. Various thoughts crawled over Hu Tao’s body like ants. She took a deep breath and couldn’t hold it back any longer, quietly inching towards the refrigerator.
This was the last door, she thought.
The refrigerator door silently swung open, releasing a gust of cold air. Behind the last door, there were pork bones, fish meat, and steaks stored. Seeing these ordinary things, Hu Tao breathed a sigh of relief for a brief moment. She composed herself and carefully placed the frozen goods back.
Something fell out of the package of pork bones.
Hu Tao grabbed the small piece of flesh-like object in her hand. She was about to put it back when her movements abruptly stopped.
It was a human finger, Judging by its size, it clearly belonged to a child. And judging by its frozen state, the small piece of flesh had been frozen for more than just a day.
[It’s chaotic outside, children are missing, and there’s trouble. I don’t know what’s going on.] Her mother’s words echoed in her mind.
Hu Tao felt like she had fallen into an icy abyss.
She turned her head and looked into the frenzied and desperate eyes of the burly man. Next to those eyes, there were another pair of feet wearing slippers.
“Why are you suddenly curious about the refrigerator? Didn’t I say that I’ll take care of the kitchen?” A’Shen sighed repeatedly. “…Ah, did you see that? It’s my fault. I didn’t clean up properly, so that man came knocking on our door.”
He glanced at the pot of soup.
“As expected of my wife, I thought we had used it all. I’ll tidy up the fridge later to avoid leaving anything that shouldn’t be there.”
“Why?” Hu Tao didn’t even know what tone her words had when she spoke. She knelt beside the fridge, her mind on the verge of shutting down.
A’Shen smiled again. “They say you are what you eat, and I like little girls, so I want you to eat more.”
Hu Tao couldn’t keep her balance, and one of her hands pressed into the nearby pool of blood.
“And I can hear voices. If I kill them, the gods will reward me. By consuming them, you will surely be blessed too… honey.”
The strong scent of the meat soup made Hu Tao vomit instantly. The vomit slid into the blood, juxtaposed against the familiar kitchen. Hu Tao felt like she was about to go insane in the next second.
Forget about hot soup and calling for help. She just wanted to escape, to flee from this absurd place.
If this was a nightmare, why hadn’t she woken up yet?
“Morning sickness, huh? Honey, you’re really suffering.” A’Shen leaned towards her, reaching out with a gentle and soothing tone. “Come…”
Instinctively, Hu Tao avoided him, slapping his hand away.
Blood splattered.
A’Shen froze, looking at his own hand with disbelief. “Did you hit me?”
“Lunatic.” Hu Tao choked, her pajamas stained with vomit and blood. “Lunatic, lunatic…”
The man’s face slowly turned red, anger evident in his brows and eyes. “I’m doing this for your own good! I explained it all just now. How can you say such things?”
“Stay away from me!” Hu Tao looked at the bowl of hot soup.
It sat on the stove while she sat paralyzed in front of the refrigerator. It was too far away, she couldn’t stand up, and she didn’t want to touch it again. Thinking about how she had tasted a spoonful before, she began to vomit uncontrollably.
Her husband squatted in front of her. A’Shen himself picked up the bowl of soup, now holding an extra spoon. His face carried the usual sense of aggrievement and tolerance, as if they had just had a normal argument.
“Don’t make a fuss,” he said. “Have some soup and rest. You’re pregnant now, and your emotions are unstable… Once you calm down, we can talk again.”
Hu Tao shook her head frantically. She wanted to stand up, but she had no strength. She wanted to scream, but her throat was convulsing, and her husband had already taken away her phone.
The hot soup approached her lips, and Hu Tao quickly turned her head. Whether it was her own movement or her husband’s force, she ended up with a cut on her face.
“Take a sip, come on.”
Ignoring the blood on the spoon, A’Shen took a deep breath, and his eyes were filled with tender light.
“Just take a sip, and we’ll make up. Honey, you can’t really be angry at me, can you? We’ve known each other for so many years.”
He extended the spoon once again.
Time and time again, Hu Tao frantically avoided it, her face becoming bloodied and mangled. Each time she dodged, her husband’s face grew more suspicious. In the end, he suddenly realized something, stood up, put down the spoon, and picked up a knife.
“I wondered why you wouldn’t forgive me,” he said, looking at Hu Tao’s blood-drenched face, his voice filled with anger.
“You’re not my wife. You’re a monster. Don’t use my wife’s face—”
With a swift motion, he raised the knife and brought it down.
In Hu Tao’s final field of vision, she was surrounded by boundless blood-red. She could see the bodies of her parents, lying close together, and the kitchen ceiling she had chosen with anticipation. But occupying most of her sight was her childhood sweetheart, her husband.
His cheeks were clean, with just a little bit of blood splattered on them. He stared straight into her eyes with a focused gaze.
……
“Later, he escaped, and the police couldn’t catch him. After signing a spirit contract with Yin Ren, I went to look for him several times myself, but I found nothing—according to the police records, he was considered a fugitive.”
The memories were long, but they were absorbed in an instant.
Hu Tao floated before the members of Unit 9 with a smile on her face.
“Now you know what he looks like.”
Kinky Thoughts:
Umm, WTF?
Well, it turns out Hu Tao’s past is pretty gruesome… This explains a lot of why she became a fierce vengeful ghost.
Sometimes I forget that this novel is part horror.
“Remember, you only have twenty-four hours,” Meng Huai emphasized. “As soon as ‘Satisfaction’ leaves, those Elementals will first clean up the newly born little Elementals. After twenty-four hours, the focus of those Elementals will shift to patrolling.”
“Clean up?” Fu Tianyi gazed at the monsters climbing on the white silk threads, with Dr. Cat perched silently on his shoulder.
This word was used too peacefully—if they encountered smaller ones, these things would tear them apart on the spot and devour them completely. Especially those few enormous black shadows that circled the nest like whales, refusing to leave.
“Yes, clean up,” Meng Huai said.
Zhong Chengshuo remained silent.
To be honest, he wasn’t surprised. He had confirmed his suspicions with Qi Xin long ago—
A thousand years ago, “Fear” appeared after “Satisfaction”, alternating like day and night. As for those ripples, they were the Primordial Elementals. Zhong Chengshuo would randomly devour some while accidentally crushing others. The little Elementals born from “Satisfaction” absorbed these remnants and promptly fed on emotions from the human side. The population of Elementals remained stable, and they survived in this way.
Without Fear, the Elementals couldn’t die and could only devour each other. But then again, no one wanted to die, so the Elementals began targeting the vulnerable newborns for sustenance. Even so, they still couldn’t match the speed at which “Satisfaction” created new Elementals.
But if they killed “Satisfaction”, the origin of the Primordial Elementals, no one knew if a new “Satisfaction” would be born. In case Satisfaction disappeared altogether, the Other Side would deteriorate even faster.
“Love’s” plan to create madness and increase emotional output wasn’t unreasonable for the Other Side. The problem was that Qi Xin had been indecisive all along. Would that scheming and profound “Love” truly reveal the plan to her?
Disgust and Joy had long since died, so they had no way to verify.
[Remember to act quickly—rescue and run.] Yin Ren’s wings rustled in the bag. [The thing in the center is too suspicious that it gives me an uncomfortable feeling.]
[Yes, I know.] Zhong Chengshuo touched the lantern in his shoulder bag.
“How can I find my mom?” On the other side, Lu Xiaohe looked up at countless ball-shaped cocoons, anxious and distressed.
“I heard about it too. Didn’t you look for people from the Other Side before?” Meng Huai said, “You’re the rear commander, so you should have thought of it.”
Lu Xiaohe was startled, and Huang Jin frowned in response.
Lu Xiaohe had read the report on the Bai Yongji case. Huang Jin had personally played the guitar in the case, resonating with Ding Lizhi. However—
“But that was with the help of Minister Jiao. It was said that we could achieve a shared mindset, but I don’t know how she did it,” Lu Xiaohe answered honestly.
Meng Huai chuckled. “The ‘Charon’ is strong because they can traverse the Other Side, but they don’t have that many special abilities. If you only think of Xiao Jiao as a Charon, you won’t have the idea of trying it yourself. That’s not a good habit… As a science post, sometimes you’re too imprisoned by the insistence on ‘verification’.”
“Yes.” Lu Xiaohe quickly realized. “I’ll give it a try.”
She closed her eyes, perhaps guessing her mother’s possible thoughts.
Zhong Chengshuo saw Lu Xiaohe’s figure become blurred, and a faint white line was pulled out from her, faintly drifting toward a certain ball-shaped cocoon. The end of the white line flickered weakly, even less bright than a damp burning incense, intermittent and elusive. After a while, it disappeared.
In the end, telepathic connections couldn’t compare to Ding Lizi’s long song. Even with the closest person, “heart-to-heart communication” could only achieve a superficial understanding.
But the target it indicated was already clear enough.
……
Unit 9’s four members leaped onto the Elementals’ backs, smearing prepared minced meat in the blind spots of the round cocoons. Huang Jin used a carving knife to carve an improved Tranquility Talisman, and the cocoon wall appeared like snow that had been melted, revealing a hidden hole.
Zhong Chengshuo led the way while Huang Jin guarded the rear, and the four of them barely crawled into the cocoon.
The scene inside was no different from what Meng Huai remembered. White threads hung down, nests piled up, and despite the absence of a light source, everything was blindingly white on all sides. If it wasn’t for everyone remembering the current situation, this atmosphere would make them drowsy.
Inside the cradle-like cocoons, arms of various sizes embraced the white silk humanoids to varying degrees. Those humanoid figures were large and small, sitting or lying down. Lu Xiaohe was originally curious as a member of the science post, but now she didn’t dare to look closely.
Everyone proceeded cautiously, with fine threads coiling around, but when they touched the Tranquility Talisman on Unit 9’s “flesh shoes”, the threads automatically avoided them. Everything was quiet—so quiet that it made people anxious. Except for the intermittent “guiding thread” on Lu Xiaohe’s body, the scenery here lacked vitality, like a still painting.
The group advanced cautiously; every step taken with trepidation. Zhong Chengshuo kept watching with his eyes and constantly shared the field of vision with Yin Ren.
[We entered without any movement. It seems there are no Elementals guarding these people. There are so many patrolling soldiers outside, most likely guarding the big guy in the center.]
Perhaps because it was too quiet around, Yin Ren chattered incessantly inside Zhong Chengshuo’s head.
[Fortunately, it’s going smoothly in here. I guess all the pressure is on the lookout team outside. I don’t know if Fu Tianyi can hold up.]
It was a pity that only Fu Tianyi was a genuine cultivator of the Fu family. Meng Huai probably wouldn’t feel at ease with anyone else. Yin Ren understood this in his heart but speaking it out loud wasn’t pleasant.
[What do you think?] Zhong Chengshuo stepped on the soft ground.
[It’s hard to say for now.] Yin Ren’s voice was calm. [It’s also a solution if I transform into my true form, destroy these cocoon balls, and then run. But that would startle the enemy. It’s better to understand the situation first and then break through here in one fell swoop.]
[Mm, that’s what I’m planning too.]
“It should be… It should be this one.”
Just then, Lu Xiaohe stopped in her tracks.
In front of her was an ordinary-looking white nest, with a baby carriage-like structure. Two pairs of arms embraced a bloated humanoid figure. Huang Jin took out a carving knife made from solidified Elemental flesh and nodded at Lu Xiaohe.
He had an expression as if he were dancing on a nuclear bomb button as he gently cut a white thread on the humanoid figure. Immediately after, Huang Jin’s whole body trembled, as if he were about to be struck by a thunderbolt, looking around in all directions.
But nothing happened.
The white arms beside the humanoid figure merely lightly embraced the surroundings, showing no reaction like a lifeless object. Everything went smoothly to the point of discomfort.
Huang Jin quickly took out a photo and confirmed if the comments on the back were still there. Once he made sure that the lookout was safe and sound, he tremblingly used his hands to continue cutting another layer. Ge Tingting nervously guarded the surroundings with her ears perked up, listening intently. The surroundings were still filled with an ear-piercing silence that made one’s ears ache, which only made Huang Jin’s cutting sound like thunder.
Huang Jin continued dismantling like he was defusing a bomb, his forehead covered in sweat.
Layer by layer, the white threads were pushed aside, and the facial features of the person inside could be vaguely seen. Lu Xiaohe suddenly covered her mouth, trying to suppress a sob.
Lu Xiaohe’s mother was covered in mucus, quietly sleeping in a tangle of severed threads. Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed, her figure still frail, but her cheeks and lips were somewhat rosy.
…Is this it? Huang Jin tightened his grip on the carving knife and stood there, stunned.
In hindsight, Love indeed had little sentiment towards humans. People heard about money being put in a safe, but they had never heard of anyone setting up multiple layers of protection for instant noodles. Maybe Unit 9 had been unlucky for so long that it all accumulated in this stroke of good luck.
Huang Jin, still trembling with fear, looked at the four arms. “It’s been less than three hours. When they said twenty-four hours, I thought… Well, it’s better to finish early if we can. Let’s go.”
Lu Xiaohe reached out her arms to pull her mother from the cocoon. The texture of the mucus was like egg whites, enveloping her mother in a wet and slippery state. The pajamas on her mother’s body were crumpled like wilted vegetable leaves.
Lu Xiaohe bit her lip, trying to handle the situation as gently as possible. Ge Tingting took two steps forward to help her move her mother. Zhong Chengshuo frowned and looked around—he still saw a row of tranquility, and Yin Ren didn’t report the presence of any large Primordial Elementals.
“Let’s go.” Zhong Chengshuo unusually took the initiative to speak. “Let’s leave this place first and then figure out what to do.”
“Strange, I thought you were going to do some research.” Huang Jin walked to the back of the team again, muttering to himself. “Zhong Chengshuo, you’re so strange and scary…”
“The outside is heavily guarded, yet it’s so lax here. When things are abnormal, there must be something amiss.” Zhong Chengshuo’s demeanor became colder and more imposing, sounding more like the legendary “King Yama”.
Unit 9 was always straightforward in their actions. Lu Xiaohe carried her mother on her back, and Ge Tingting helped support Mrs. He’s back. Once again, Zhong Chengshuo took the lead while Huang Jin guarded the rear, and the group quickly retraced their steps.
It took only about four hours, and the four of them successfully returned to their starting point. Huang Jin finally released the tension in his throat, took out his carving knife, and was about to use the same technique to find a way out—
“Why are you leaving just like that? I haven’t found the person I’m looking for yet.”
A familiar voice sounded from behind the group. And everyone recognized that aura. Although Zhong Chengshuo hadn’t heard that voice before, the moment the aura appeared, Yin Ren already had the answer in his mind.
Zhong Chengshuo slowly stood up and stood in front of the other three. The bundle of wings in his backpack wriggled, filled with astonishment and urgency.
The fierce ghost Hu Tao floated in front of the group.
Her face was distorted and covered in protruding flesh, making it impossible to discern her features. Her teeth were broken, resembling a bloody hole. Her hair and clothes were dirty and disheveled, and black-red putrid blood dripped down, quickly absorbed by the white “ground”.
“Help me find someone too.”
The ghost’s voice was hoarse, and she seemed to be smiling, but her face was so mutilated that muscle movement couldn’t be discerned.
Zhong Chengshuo pinched the uncertain bundle of wings and made a gesture behind his back. “How did you come to the Other Side?”
He asked calmly and peacefully, as if they were merely encountering each other in the living room at home.
Hu Tao: “I have a blood oath with Yin Ren, so of course, I can find him.”
“You know that’s not what I want to ask. How did you come to the Other Side?” Zhong Chengshuo hadn’t finished speaking when the hands behind his back made another move—
Huang Jin and Ge Tingting had completed their spell preparations and simultaneously cast a binding light net from all directions. Zhong Chengshuo, having dealt with evil creatures for years, knew better than to chat with someone in the enemy camp.
The light net was about to descend from all directions, but Hu Tao didn’t dodge. She floated in place, repeating once again, “Help me find someone too.”
Crack!
Before the spell could even reach the fierce ghost, it disappeared like water encountering a hot iron, instantly vanishing without a trace. Looking at Hu Tao again, a pair of arms emerged from her back and gently embraced her neck.
[I tried to suppress her with the spirit contract, but it didn’t work.] Yin Ren’s thoughts entered Zhong Chengshuo’s mind. [Something is wrong. I’ll stay behind to deal with her. You all go first.]
[No, you can’t expose yourself yet.]
Zhong Chengshuo closed his eyes. Whether it was Yin Ren’s identity or the Karma Lantern, they were their trump cards. If they revealed everything at this stage, they would have nothing left for what lay ahead.
[Since she appeared at this critical moment, none of us can leave. Let’s probe the situation first.]
“Why won’t you help me find someone?”
The fierce ghost floated closer. When Ge Tingting saw her face, mutilated and covered in blood and flesh, she couldn’t help but look away. But as soon as she turned her head, Hu Tao was right in front of her, just a few centimeters away, her face in a mess, facing Ge Tingting.
Lu Xiaohe took a few steps back, carrying her mother, almost tripping over the white threads on the ground.
Hu Tao grinned, and the arms embracing her tightened a little more.
“I was told that ‘he’ is also here. But there are too many people here, so I waited for you to come and help.”
She extended her blood-stained hand toward the four of them.
“I can’t find him just by myself.”
I was told.
Zhong Chengshuo squinted his eyes. Hu Tao was a fierce ghost with a contract with Yin Ren, so naturally, she could locate him on the Other Side. Besides Qi Xin, who had the ability to bypass Yin Ren and send evil creatures to the Other Side… there seemed to be another person.
“Love.”
It was a trap. This place was a trap from the beginning.
Countless missing individuals were concentrated here. Even if Meng Huai didn’t appear, it was only a matter of time before Shian discovered this place.
“We will all help you find him,” Zhong Chengshuo said calmly. “Following Shian’s regulation, we need to first move Lu Xiaohe’s mother out and then help you search—it seems that you can’t synchronize your thoughts to search for that person, so we have to conduct a carpet search.”
“You’ve already talked with ‘that one’, so why are you bothering us? Can’t you let ‘that one’ guide you?” Ge Tingting couldn’t hold it in and spoke up. She stood in front of Lu Xiaohe, spreading her arms.
“That one doesn’t remember the exact location, so I have no other choice.” Hu Tao’s voice carried a hint of grievance. “You know when your package is in the delivery room, don’t you have to search for it yourself?”
“I promise to help you find him.” Zhong Chengshuo raised his voice. “But as I said earlier, we need to move Lu Xiaohe’s mother first.”
Hu Tao’s face twisted, and her voice gradually became cheerful.
“I knew it. We’re still friends. But to move that woman… Let’s forget it. It’s chaotic outside. Even if you go out now, there’s no one to meet up with you.”
Lu Xiaohe held her mother tightly, looking towards the path they came from. The entrance had already been blocked by the white threads, leaving only a shallow depression. It was supposed to be guarded by the lookout team of four, and even Dr. Cat would occasionally come to ensure that the passage remained open.
“No one to meet up with?” Lu Xiaohe murmured.
“Yes,” Hu Tao answered with a smile. “All those people outside are dead… Anyway, they were all strangers. It’s better that you’re here.”
“You, Unit 9—aren’t you the best at finding missing people?”
Yin Ci looked at the serious expression on Shi Jingzhi’s face, and the lingering hostility in his bones dissipated.
At first, the man’s probing carried an indescribable sense of oppression, then it turned into half-guardedness and half-curiosity. Now, Shi Jingzhi wanted to openly challenge him, but that initial guard was nowhere to be seen.
Like a fierce beast retracting its sharp claws just as it was about to strike.
Yin Ci didn’t dislike this curious inquiry, and the only trace of resistance dissolved under the thought of “the other person is most likely the Little Mute”. ‘It’s strange,’ he thought. Their way of interacting seemed to have changed very little since he first became his disciple.
Both treated each other kindly, disregarding formalities, yet now he had an inexplicable sense of peace.
“Want to know everything? That’s going to be difficult.”
Yin Ci met Shi Jingzhi’s imposing aura without a care. He deliberately got closer, his voice carrying an undisguised hint of amusement.
“Shizun, how about we have a little competition to see who can uncover each other’s secrets first?”
Shi Jingzhi readily agreed. “It’s a deal.”
After a moment, Shi Jingzhi felt like he was at a disadvantage and added, “A’Ci, since it’s a competition, it’s more fun if we wager something.”
Yin Ci: “…” Yan Budu really set the stage nicely.
“What do you want to wager, Shizun?”
“How about this, if I uncover A’Ci’s secrets first, you have to agree to one of my requests. And if you uncover the cause of my illness first, then I’ll agree to your request… I haven’t thought about it yet, so let’s leave it open.”
After all, it was still the temperament of a young person. Yin Ci went along with it. Finally, he jokingly remarked, “Even if I wanted the Shirou, would you be willing to give it?”
“A gentleman keeps his word, so naturally, I will be willing to give it.”
“Shizun’s ‘object obsession’ doesn’t seem to be that severe.”
Unexpectedly, Shi Jingzhi stubbornly replied, “You said you would ensure my longevity. If you wanted the Shirou, you would have already found a way to treat my condition. A’Ci, you wouldn’t go back on your word, would you?”
Yin Ci suddenly felt like he had dug a hole for himself. He gazed at Shi Jingzhi, and if he were to shake him up a bit, he was sure to uncover a flurry of calculations.
“I did indeed say that.”
Shi Jingzhi smiled even more happily. “Then I have no need to worry needlessly.”
With their banter, a sense of playing chess with a worthy opponent subtly emerged between the two.
Then Shi Jingzhi slowly climbed onto the bed. Despite having a dozen mysteries around him, he stretched his limbs and completely relaxed.
Sect Master Shi’s gaze remained fixed on the canopy above for a while before he turned his eyes toward Yin Ci. “A’Ci, I’ve been thinking about what Yan Budu said.”
Yin Ci leaned against the head of the bed, and his long hair flowed down his back with the ends scattered on the plain fabric. He was in a good mood, enjoying the sparse stars outside the window. He responded promptly, “What did he say?”
“About Su Zhi’s matter.”
Yin Ci pondered for a moment, only recalling Yan Budu’s disparaging remarks. As the person involved, he couldn’t be sure what Shi Jingzhi wanted to discuss, so he silently looked back at him.
“Yan Budu said, ‘If he hadn’t taken over the north, our sect wouldn’t have been so ruthlessly defeated.’ Initially, I only thought that your ancestor was a Demonic Lord, and I never thought in that direction.”
Shi Jingzhi decisively rolled off the bed, retrieving ink, a brush, paper, and inkstones. He spent quite some time painting under the moonlight. Once the ink dried, he also grabbed a plate of dried fruits from the fruit tray and dragged a small table to the edge of the bed.
“If A’Ci can’t sleep, play a game of sand table with me.”
Shi Jingzhi arranged the paper and laid out the dried fruits on the table, looking earnestly at Yin Ci.
Yin Ci was accustomed to his impromptu nature and went along with it, glancing over the paper. Unexpectedly, when he looked, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
It was clearly an influence map from a hundred years ago. The important strongholds of various sects, significant geographical features, important cities—it was an accurate representation of the map from that time. The lines on the map were beautifully drawn, the summary was concise, and it could even be directly used in military operations.
“Pine nuts represent the righteous sects at that time, soybeans represent Yan Budu, and melon seeds represent Su Zhi.”
Seeing Yin Ci’s interest, Shi Jingzhi happily piled up the dried fruits on the map.
“The Chigou Sect was originally just an ordinary gang in the north, relying on scavenging the remnants of battlefields to survive. Shortly after the rise of the Ling Sect, a disciple named Su Zhi emerged in the Chigou Sect. This person rose rapidly, took the position of the third-generation Patriarch, and completely revitalized the Chigou Sect—”
He brushed the pile of melon seeds in the northwestern direction.
“From then on, the Chigou Sect’s target was not only the remnants of battlefields but also the ancient tombs gathered in the northwest of Great Yun. Whether they belonged to foreigners or compatriots, deserts or muddy lands, as long as it was the tomb of a noble or aristocrat, the Chigou Sect would dig it up.”
“By excavating treasures from the tombs, the Chigou Sect quickly became rich. They committed all sorts of deeds that harmed virtue and were despised by the common people. However, Su Zhi was quite capable and acted swiftly. The Chigou Sect maintained a relatively harmonious relationship with the local people without accumulating grievances like the Ling Sect… A’Ci is a descendant of the Su clan. You must have heard about these things.”
Yin Ci remained composed. “What exactly do you want to say, Shizun?”
“Looking at the surface, the Chigou Sect did indeed seem to be developing in an ordinary direction. But if we consider the Ling Sect as well… Su Zhi’s every move targeted Yan Budu’s most vulnerable points.”
Shi Jingzhi pressed the melon seeds onto each city on the map.
“These territories are all perfectly situated, making it tasteless for the Ling Sect to hold onto them but a pity to abandon them. The main base of the Ling Sect is on Zongwu Mountain, far away from the northwest. If they were to forcibly entangle themselves with the Chigou Sect, they would only be taken advantage of by the martial world in the Central Plains. Yan Budu had no choice but to let the Chigou Sect encroach upon their territory.”
“So what?”
“If Su Zhi hadn’t appeared, the Ling Sect could have torn open a gap in the southwest and encompassed the entire western region. That way, when the righteous sects united to suppress the Ling Sect, they wouldn’t have been so miserable, and Yan Budu wouldn’t have fallen into a disadvantageous position, forced into Zongwu Mountain by Kongshi.”
Yin Ci remained silent for a moment before saying casually, “Perhaps you’re thinking too much.”
“Yes, I can’t be certain. This situation is truly interesting.”
Shi Jingzhi grabbed a handful of roasted beans and threw one into his mouth.
“Come on, you be Su Zhi and the righteous sect, and I’ll be Yan Budu. If I can break through your blockade, just count it as me overthinking things.”
Yin Ci reluctantly took the melon seed from his hand. “Alright, alright.”
“A’Ci, set up your layout properly later. If you’re not serious, I can tell.”
Initially, Yin Ci didn’t take that statement seriously—Shi Jingzhi was just a twenty-seven-year-old young man, and no matter how intelligent he was, at most, he could only discuss military strategies on paper. He couldn’t handle the uncertainties of real conflicts.
But this game with the dried fruit sand table didn’t end quickly.
Yin Ci held the melon seeds in his hand, and a hint of a solemn and murderous aura unconsciously appeared on his face.
Shi Jingzhi had always had a sharp gaze, and this extended to setting up formations. He launched one surprise attack after another, displaying a fierce and ruthless style. Yet, he was also watertight, even surpassing Yan Budu in skill.
Yin Ci had initially planned to lose easily and brush it off. However, Shi Jingzhi’s skill wasn’t lacking, and if he deliberately concealed his abilities, he would indeed be discovered.
Interesting.
It was easy to find soldiers, but hard to find a general. With a unique situation at hand, Yin Ci’s interest was sparked, and he no longer bothered to conceal it. He happily unleashed his skills and engaged in a fierce battle with Shi Jingzhi.
“This isn’t your first time using a sand table, is it?”
Shi Jingzhi curved his eyes. “Elder Brother has peculiar hobbies and often gives me challenging military problems. I’ve been playing with military sand tables for more than ten years.”
“This move is quite impressive. A few years ago, during Great Yun’s border defense battle against Na Luojiu, this was the decisive victory.”
Yin Ci picked up a few melon seeds and casually commented.
“But you’re still a bit inexperienced. If I were to ambush you here, your troops would still be cut off.”
“That’s exactly what I want.”
Shi Jingzhi laughed and placed several beans on the table.
“A’Ci, how about this? I’ll gather the people from the Ling Sect’s main base and make a breakthrough while chaos ensues—”
Yin Ci sneered and pushed the melon seeds he had arranged a moment ago closer. “General, Shizun.”
Shi Jingzhi picked up a bean and took the opportunity to stuff it into Yin Ci’s mouth. “That’s right, I knew it. When Su Zhi chose those bases, he had the intention to suppress Yan Budu… A’Ci, your ancestor doesn’t seem as malicious as the rumors say.”
Yin Ci: “……”
He couldn’t swallow it for a moment, and he didn’t want to spit it out, so he had no choice but to swallow the roasted bean.
Did that obedient Little Mute twist into someone cunning?
“And your formations are extraordinary, inherited from your ancestor?” Shi Jingzhi looked at the map filled with dried fruits. “There are so many arrangements that I never even thought of… I didn’t misjudge after all.”
Shi Jingzhi crushed a pine nut with a crack. “Incomplete meridians, Sweeping Bones as swift as the wind, and a strategic genius. Even if Su Zhi is still alive, that’s all he would be.”
Yin Ci pretended not to hear and stretched lazily. He wasn’t afraid of Shi Jingzhi’s wild guesses about this matter.
Immortal wine didn’t extend one’s lifespan. Su Zhi wasn’t an immortal. Even if he drank immortal wine like water, he couldn’t possibly live until now. There had never been a person in this world who was immortal or never aged. Even if Shi Jingzhi were to guess endlessly, he would never uncover the truth.
Sure enough, Shi Jingzhi pressed against the map, muttering to himself, and his speculations became more and more outrageous. “A’Ci, was Su Zhi your great-grandfather? Grandfather? …Your father?”
“It’s time to sleep, Shizun.”
Shi Jingzhi was still looking at the map. “You go to sleep first. I’ll continue looking for a while longer. I have a feeling that there might be a turning point.”
Yin Ci got off the bed directly and forcibly dragged his master back onto the bed. “Tomorrow, we have to meet with the Abbot. Are you going to meet him with a pair of black eyes? Playing around is just playing around, and the point is to feel comfortable. If you haven’t had enough fun, I’ll continue accompanying you tomorrow.”
Shi Jingzhi paused at the words. “The point is to feel comfortable?”
“Yes. Everything should be done in moderation, as excess is detrimental.”
“Then, A’Ci, are you feeling comfortable?”
Seeing Yin Ci hesitate and his expression gradually becoming complicated, but not denying it, Shi Jingzhi felt satisfied. He imitated Yin Ci’s tone and said, “Then, let’s sleep. If A’Ci hasn’t had enough fun, I’ll continue accompanying you tomorrow.”
As a result, the next day, Shi Jingzhi had a bit of bruising under his eyes. This person secretly got up in the early morning and sat in front of the map for over an hour.
Yin Ci, upon seeing the bloody handkerchief Shi Jingzhi spit into, couldn’t help but want to beat him up. But when he looked at Shi Jingzhi’s smiling face, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
In the end, he only made breakfast for three people and asked a monk to fetch a vegetarian meal from the temple, specifically for Shi Jingzhi. Sect Master Shi held a plate of specialty buns from the Jianchen Temple and looked at the golden pancakes in front of the others, feeling speechless.
Yin Ci was always capable of being ruthless when necessary. “Since Shizun doesn’t cherish his own body, why not practice asceticism like the eminent monks? Who knows, it might actually be effective.”
Shi Jingzhi took a bite of the bun, calmly asking, “…Are you genuinely concerned, A’Ci?”
Yin Ci sneered coldly, not falling into the fox’s trap. “I asked the monks, and they said they will only have salt porridge and boiled greens for breakfast tomorrow.”
Shi Jingzhi immediately shut his mouth, holding his breath and attentively eating his breakfast.
Yin Ci had heard a few things about the current Abbot of the Jianchen Temple, but he had never seen him in person. He only knew that the monk was a senior martial brother of Monk Juehui and went by the Dharma name “Juefei”. Juefei was highly skilled in martial arts and secluded himself to an extent that surpassed previous Abbots. According to the saying in the martial world, unless the world was in chaos and the mountains and rivers were crumbling, the Abbot would not come down from the mountain.
Monk Juefei even abstained from attending the martial arts grand event several years ago.
Such a person was difficult to deal with, no matter how one approached them. Yin Ci had made ample preparations, but he never expected—
“Ah? Martial Uncle Kongshi’s stone sword? It’s fine if Sect Master Shi wants to see it. Just take a look. After all, it’s just lying there. It won’t make any difference if you take a glance.”
Monk Juefei sat cross-legged on the bed, drinking a bowl of vegetarian wine, and hiccupped again. The four members of the Kushan Sect sat in a row on meditation cushions, unsure of how to react.
The Abbot’s room was spacious and filled with cushions. The gaps between the cushions were stuffed with various flowers and plants, giving it a lively atmosphere without a hint of worldly detachment.
Politely speaking, Monk Juefei had a resemblance to Maitreya*, with earlobes that seemed like they would touch his shoulders and a round face filled with a cheerful expression. To be more straightforward, this person was excessively fat, indifferent to everything, and seemed too lazy to move even if the heavens were collapsing.
*Regarded as the future Buddha of this world in Buddhist eschatology.
If not for the sense of profound inner force emanating from him, Yin Ci would have thought they had come to the wrong place. Contrary to the rumors, this Abbot was not only reasonable but also too easy to talk to.
“Oh, there’s something else… Ah, Martial Uncle Kongshi’s remains. Sect Master Shi, now that we have some rapport, there’s no need to hide it from me. With the exchange for the ‘Woodless Sutra’, I’m sure you can see more than just the stone sword. Even if you want to see me running naked around the temple, I’ll agree to it.”
Shi Jingzhi stumbled, “…Venerable Abbot, there’s, there’s no need for that.”
He hadn’t completely recovered from the influence of Venerable Kongshi, and the presence of the Abbot in front of him left him dazed and with slightly vacant eyes.
Monk Juefei burst into laughter, his voice booming like a bell, shaking the core of those present. He tapped his chubby knee with his thick finger, and his eyes narrowed and was filled with a mischievous smile, making it hard to tell who he was looking at.
“So, Sect Master Shi deliberately brought up the matter of the remains to meet with this old monk. There must be other matters you wish to discuss, right?”
Shi Jingzhi took a deep breath, adjusting his emotions. “I have indeed come this time with two matters to seek guidance from Venerable Abbot. If the Venerable can provide clarification, I am willing to assist the temple in retrieving the remains of Venerable Kongshi.”
“Ah, at such a young age, why beat around the bush? I believe that Sect Master Shi genuinely wishes to find the remains of Martial Uncle Kongshi, while the other matters are just secondary—did Yan Budu hide the clues with Martial Uncle?”
The chubby abbot slightly opened his eyes, pinpointing Shi Jingzhi’s intentions in just a few words.
“How did Venerable Abbot come to know?”
“The stone sword of Marital Uncle Kongshi was brought back by itself. After the disappearance of Martial Uncle Kongshi for nearly a year, it suddenly appeared at the entrance of our temple. If it were anyone else, they would undoubtedly come to the temple to claim credit or at least give a greeting. The only person who would do such a thing is Yan Budu.”
Monk Juefei made two light clicks with his tongue while his gaze toward the crowd filled with a near-loving expression.
“Yan Budu is a cunning and ruthless person. He wouldn’t send the sword back to the temple out of goodwill, nor would he be foolish enough to provoke with it. It can only mean that he concealed the clues related to the burial site. The Jianchen Temple has strict rules, so you wouldn’t be able to inquire freely. Coming to see me now, you also want to know about the events of that year, right?”
“Yes, I was presumptuous and disrespectful earlier, offending Venerable.”
Shi Jingzhi immediately changed his tone, displaying a sincere attitude.
“Enough, enough. All beings are connected by the three poisons of greed, hatred, and ignorance. Those who come are all due to fate.” Monk Juefei waved his hand. “Regarding the records of Martial Uncle Kongshi, I will have someone send them to you. Now, about the stone sword—it is in the underground palace beneath the pagoda in the back mountain. You are free to take a look if you wish. If you can move it, you may take it away.”
This time, Shi Jingzhi was genuinely astonished. “We can take it away?”
The sword of Venerable Kongshi, no matter how one looked at it, was a treasure of the Jianchen Temple. It wasn’t uncommon for eminent monks to be generous, but being excessively generous was suspicious.
Monk Juefei’s face was full of smiles as he clasped his hands together. “Amitabha, I assure you; no one will hinder you.”
“However, on this sword, Martial Uncle Kongshi personally inscribed 108 verses of Buddhist scriptures, aimed at examining the mind. The heavier the attachment to the ‘self’, the heavier the sword—Martial Uncle Kongshi had high self-standards. Just moving the sword to the pagoda required a team of thirty people from our temple.”
“In a hundred years, this sword has never found a worthy individual. If Patron can truly take it away, it would be a fortunate occurrence.”
The author has something to say:
-Stage One –
Fox Shi: Time to get up for morning practice; Demonic Lord Yin: ? Something is wrong with you.
Demonic Lord Yin: Prepare breakfast. ; Fox Shi: It’s handy having a disciple.
-Stage Two –
Fox Shi: Time to get up for morning practice; Demonic Lord Yin: ? A kid can teach.
Demonic Lord Yin: Prepare breakfast.; Fox Shi: My disciple is so kind.
-Stage Three –
Fox Shi: Time to get up for morning practice; Demonic Lord Yin: ? You vomited blood and didn’t sleep well.
Demonic Lord Yin: Prepare breakfast.; Fox Shi: A’Ci is so good, I need to find a way to make him happier.
Now let’s guess Stage Four (×
————
By the way, it’s not a bug that Yan Budu was able to move the sword when he returned it (…
Also, according to Journey to the West, monks at that time could drink some vegetarian wine, but meat-based wine (made with meat as an ingredient) was absolutely not allowed.
The Jianchen Temple was situated in the middle of Huilian Mountain, built on a solitary peak, and was adjacent to a gigantic waterfall.
The temple had black-tiled red walls, exuding a solemn and ancient atmosphere. Surrounding it were rugged rocks and proud cedar trees. Combined with the waterfall resembling cascading snow, even without hearing the sound of bells or sutra chanting, one couldn’t help but feel a sense of tranquility.
Once they entered the central range of the solitary peak, the effect of the Buddha Heart Formation disappeared. The four of them felt invigorated and climbed the winding stone steps in one breath, reaching the front of the temple.
As speculated earlier, the Jianchen Temple still held gratitude towards Shi Jingzhi for returning the “Woodless Sutra”. Despite the sorry state of the disciples of the Kushan Sect, the monks still opened the temple gate and invited the four inside.
The one leading them was even a familiar face.
The young monk who they had met in the Ghost Tomb came to guide them. Just as he was about to say to Shi Jingzhi, “Form is emptiness”, he caught sight of Yin Ci and choked on the words, “Emptiness is form”.
“You, you… You’re the one who killed Lu Fengxi, the white…”
“A’Ci is my disciple, not an evil person.” Shi Jingzhi pulled Yin Ci behind him. “There are reasons behind it; Young Master*, don’t panic.”
*Xiao Shifu (小师父).
Can he really not panic? Not to mention Lu Fengxi, this Patron even wore the white jade hairband that belonged to Zheng Fengdao. The young monk observed the two with suspicion and felt that the Kushan Sect was even more sinister than the Ling Sect.
Fortunately, after defeating the three Lords of Greed, Hatred, and Ignorance, Yin Ci appeared to be the most dignified. Although he had many questions to ask, the young monk didn’t want to trouble the esteemed guests and had to let it go.
“Amitabha. The ritual just started not long ago, and the seniors are all busy. Please forgive us for now.”
The young monk bowed to the four of them.
“With the Buddha Heart Formation outside, it was hard work for all of you to come out of the formation. This humble monk will lead you to rest first… After the busy day is over, Venerable Juehui will personally receive all of you. There is vegetarian food in the temple, and if you are not accustomed to it, there is a guest kitchen available.”
Upon hearing this, Shi Jingzhi almost shed tears.
Setting aside these past few days when he had to make do when cooking or eat cold leftovers, even within the mind realm, he and Yin Ci hadn’t eaten anything for a month. Their mouths were so bland that birds could nest in them.
Seeing Shi Jingzhi’s distraught state, Yin Ci understood his thoughts. “We’ll cook for ourselves.”
The young monk still maintained some caution toward the “person in white” Yin Ci. After leading them to the guest rooms, the young monk left quickly, presumably to report the matter to Venerable Juehui.
However, the Jianchen Temple showed no intention of meddling in worldly affairs, and with the prior kindness of the Kushan Sect, Yin Ci wasn’t worried about the senior monks gossiping. He openly entered the guest kitchen and prepared a table of vegetarian food.
Shi Jingzhi simply collapsed onto the bed in the guest room. After days of tension, his nerves finally relaxed, and he couldn’t even be bothered to lift a finger.
The Jianchen Temple, as the number one temple in the world, had elegant and spacious guest rooms.
The four members of the Kushan Sect were given two rooms by the monks. They gathered in the outer room. Even though they were in the mortal realm, the interior was well-decorated.
Outside, there was the sound of flowing water and bamboo groves, while inside, a faint scent of sandalwood filled the air. The cushions and bedding were simple in material but elegant in design, soft and clean. The windows were clean, and no matter which window one looked out from, the view of the garden and the mountains could be framed like a painting.
The afternoon sunlight slanted into the room, devoid of snake scales, shackles, white thorns, or head lamps. Everything was warm and gentle, as if they were in a heavenly realm.
Yan Qing was at the window, checking their luggage. He had calmed his hidden anger and appeared even more composed than before. When the sunlight from the temple shone on his red eyes, they appeared clean and transparent, without a trace of wickedness.
Su Si wore a serious expression and kept pacing in the room, disrupting the rare tranquility.
Su Si’s movements made Shi Jingzhi dizzy. “Su Si, if you have something to say, just say it.”
Su Si hesitated for a moment. “Let’s wait for Brother Yin to come back and discuss it during the meal.”
That was undoubtedly a wrong decision.
When the vegetarian meal was served, its colors were bright, and its fragrance filled the air, making one’s mouth water. As Shi Jingzhi took a bite, he felt overwhelming happiness and almost achieved enlightenment on the spot. The atmosphere around Shi Jingzhi exuded a Buddha-like aura, and it took Su Si quite a while to bring his soul back.
“Sect Master.” Su Si gritted his teeth. “Did you hear what I said? Sect Master!”
After the suppression of his inner demon, the identity of the Chigou Sect’s young Patriarch was completely exposed. He no longer bothered to conceal his hostility, and his displeasure was written all over his face. He stared at Shi Jingzhi, who was engrossed in slowly savoring his food, and it seemed like he wanted to use his chopsticks as a weapon to cause trouble.
Shi Jingzhi calmly swallowed the tofu meatball in his mouth. “Su Si, silence at meals and rest*.”
*When eating, he does not converse. When in bed, he does not speak. (食不言寝不语) Saying from Confucius referring to not speaking while eating or sleeping. It’s meant to portray proper etiquette, emphasizing the importance of savoring food and having a peaceful sleep without distractions.
Yin Ci calmly added, “Shizun, Su Si mentioned that you have a ban from the Immortal Sect.”
Poor Sect Master Shi almost met his demise at the hands of a tofu meatball. Seeing that Shi Jingzhi was about to choke on it, Yin Ci casually pushed a cup of warm tea towards him.
Shi Jingzhi drank the tea in one gulp, and his mind finally returned to the matter at hand.
“An Immortal Sect ban?”
“Yes,” Su Si said in a deep voice. “Before the Lord of Greed, you and Brother Yin… Senior Yin was focused on the battle, so it’s normal that you didn’t notice. That ban only flashed briefly, and I caught a glimpse of it.”
“When I was in the Chigou Sect, I learned a bit about it and saw similar formations. They were all malicious enchantments that manipulated people’s minds. These formations are complex and not something ordinary people can do.”
“Sect Master, have you really not offended anyone from the Immortal Sect?”
Upon hearing this, Shi Jingzhi wasn’t as surprised as before. His memory gaps, unexplained headaches—it was clear that someone had deliberately tampered with his memories.
Su Si helped him eliminate other possibilities. It now seems that the person behind the scenes was undoubtedly connected to the “Immortal Sect”, the Mishan Sect.
Shi Jingzhi pondered for a moment and changed the topic. “You’re in such a hurry to bring it up. Do you want to seek assistance from the Jianchen Temple?”
“Yes,” Su Si admitted decisively. “The Buddha Heart Formation and the Nightmare Breaking Technique are both formations that affect the five senses of the human mind. The Jianchen Temple has always excelled at such techniques. Since we need to inquire about the whereabouts of Kongshi and the stone sword, it’s better to seek advice from the eminent monks along the way.”
Shi Jingzhi stroked his chin. “That sounds good, let’s do that.”
Su Si let out a sigh. “There’s one more thing. You all have witnessed the manifestation of my inner demon. I… speaking only in terms of formalities, I am indeed the young Patriarch of the Chigou Sect.”
He put down his chopsticks and sat up straight. When Yan Qing heard this, he also solemnly put down his bowl and looked at Shi Jingzhi.
The relatively relaxed atmosphere gradually became tense.
“However, I don’t acknowledge this identity, nor will I return to the sect. If the Sect Master deems it inappropriate, I won’t take San Zi with me forcefully. In these recent days, I…”
Su Si clenched his teeth; his struggle was evident. He was never someone who liked to bow his head, but now the soft words were stuck in his throat, unable to go up or down, making him look quite embarrassed.
Shi Jingzhi glanced at him and remained calm. “Oh, this matter… It’s not urgent for now. Come, let’s all eat. A’Ci has made the dishes, and they won’t taste good if they get cold.”
Su Si was taken aback and held his breath on the spot. He and Yan Qing exchanged a hesitant glance, feeling as if a huge boulder was about to fall, making it difficult for them to swallow their food and their hearts pounding.
However, Shi Jingzhi remained composed and continued to eat earnestly.
“I say, Sect Master Shi, you don’t really mind?”
After finishing the vegetarian meal, the post-meal tea was served. Seeing Shi Jingzhi with a full stomach, planning to leisurely drink his post-meal tea, Su Si finally couldn’t bear it any longer.
“We have encountered many troubles on the road, and I’m grateful that you didn’t press me for answers. But now it’s different—now you should know that the Chigou Sect won’t give up on tracking me. By leaving me in the Kushan Sect, it’s equivalent to openly challenging the Chigou Sect!”
Su Si’s tone even carried a hint of subtle resentment.
“So what?” Shi Jingzhi held the tea cup in both hands and replied calmly. “As long as we hold the two treasure map Buddhist beads, it’s like openly challenging the entire martial world. Didn’t I say before, Matron Wuxue already has a dislike for me. When there are too many fleas, if they won’t bite, it doesn’t matter.”
“Besides, if their young Patriarch is serving as a subordinate in a small sect, Matron Wuxue probably wouldn’t dare say anything. With an illegitimate status like this, considering the Chigou Sect’s character, they would only try to hinder us covertly. We just need to avoid the shadows, and we’ll find a way.”
Being let off so casually, Su Si’s gaze became complicated. “…Sect Master Shi, your protection of me must not be purely out of kindness, I presume.”
He no longer concealed those dark thoughts and brought them directly to the surface.
“Naturally not. This Sect Master is a practical person. Your martial arts are considerable, and you don’t even require a monthly salary. Where else can we find such a good deal?”
Shi Jingzhi responded confidently, appearing completely sincere.
Su Si: “…”
All his worries and questions turned out to be in vain. It seemed that the ban from the Immortal Gate didn’t affect Shi Jingzhi’s mood for eating and drinking tea. In this person’s eyes, the grudge of being the leader of the top demonic sect was worth no more than a few hundred coins of monthly allowance.
Compared to that, Matron Wuxue’s logic seemed more like that of a normal person.
Forget it. Su Si frowned. In any case, he had done all he could, and if these lunatics in the sect disbanded, he could simply take his friend and run away.
With that in mind, Su Si calmed down. The four members of the Kushan Sect sat down, drinking tea and having their meal, displaying an air of peace detached from the mundane world.
However, this peace was shattered in the evening by the arrival of Monk Juehui.
Monk Juehui still had that shriveled appearance, full of bitterness and deep grudges. As soon as he entered, his gaze lingered on Yin Ci for a long time, but ultimately slowly shifted away, not asking anything.
“Amitabha. Have the Patrons disregarded the Buddha Heart Formation and specifically climbed the mountain at this time because of some difficulty?”
Facing an outsider, Shi Jingzhi remained tight-lipped. He smiled and greeted, “I came here this time to borrow Venerable Kongshi’s stone sword.”
“…Oh?”
Monk Juehui raised his head, and finally, some expression appeared on his withered face.
“Martial Uncle* Kongshi’s remains have not been returned, so how does Patron know that the Stone Sword of Compassion is in the temple?”
*Shishu (师叔) Title given to a junior brother of one’s master (lit. Master’s younger brother).
“I received news about Venerable Kongshi’s remains. The sword is not in the place where he was buried; perhaps your esteemed temple has retrieved it.”
After observing Shi Jingzhi for a while, the monk with the bitter face smiled and said, “Amitabha. Once the treasure map Buddhist beads were revealed, masters from all over the world fought fiercely over news about Yan Budu. Who would have thought that after a hundred years, we could still unearth clues about Marital Uncle Kongshi.”
Shi Jingzhi replied, “Venerable Kongshi was one the Greats of his time. It must be the will of heaven for this to happen.”
Monk Juehui lowered his head and solemnly folded his hands in a prayer gesture to Shi Jingzhi. “Patron, you have shown kindness to our temple before, and your request to view the stone sword is not excessive. However, the matter of Martial Uncle Kongshi is of great importance, and I cannot make the decision alone. It must be determined by the Abbot*. Please rest here for the night, and I will report to the Abbot tomorrow.”
*This is referring to the head of the temple. In Chinese, the word is [Fangzhang] (方丈) meaning “one square zhang (equals to ten square feet)”, referencing the size of Vimalakirti’sstone room.
“Thank you, Venerable.”
It was night, and Jianchen Temple was tranquil. The night scenery was peaceful, and Shi Jingzhi, wearing a sleeping robe, leaned against the window in the inner room, enjoying the view.
Strange illness, the Shirou, natural desires, worldly bonds. Everything was returning to normal, but as Shi Jingzhi pondered over it, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy.
Just as he settled his thoughts, Yin Ci’s behavior became unusual. Shi Jingzhi thought he must have realized something when he saw the end of Kongshi and Yan Budu. However, after a few days passed, his disciple still maintained the same thoughtful appearance.
In recent days, Yin Ci had indeed been very kind to him. Shi Jingzhi could tell that the concern was genuine, even to the point of being excessive, bordering on a strange indulgence.
He should have been satisfied with this. However, Shi Jingzhi had a feeling that this kindness was imposed from above, not of his own accord.
…It was like Yin Ci had decided on their fate without consulting him, as if they only needed to reach this point.
Shi Jingzhi didn’t know what he wanted, but he was clear that what he wanted wasn’t something of this degree.
The thought flashed through his mind, and Shi Jingzhi suddenly felt like laughing. It was truly a cycle of karma—an unsatisfactory retribution. He had initially shown Yin Ci an inexplicable kindness, and now the same kind of favor was being returned to him in the same form. Yet, as the one being “cherished”, he felt uneasy all over, without any sense of happiness.
Was the human heart truly so complex?
“A’Ci,” Shi Jingzhi suddenly said.
Yin Ci was maintaining the Hanging Shadow Sword when he heard the words and raised his head. “What?”
“At first, I was kind to you without reason. Did you think that person must have had some problems in his head to behave so inexplicably?”
“…I did.”
“With your abilities, A’Ci, I estimate that you have already used various means to investigate my background and situation.”
This time, Yin Ci remained silent. Shi Jingzhi’s words weren’t a question and denying it would be pointless.
Smiling, Shi Jingzhi approached, his back to the moonlight streaming through the window, and caught hold of a strand of Yin Ci’s hair.
Yin Ci furrowed his brows. Even though his back was facing the light, his eyes were still incredibly bright—so bright that it made him uncomfortable.
“A’Ci, listen carefully. Now, I’m going to do the same thing. While searching for the Shirou, I will do my best to investigate your background, origins, and your inner demon.”
This was bad.
Yin Ci suddenly realized his own negligence. His Little Mute had long ceased to be the same person he was years ago. Shi Jingzhi cautiously opened up a bit to him, but he hadn’t let go of his deeply guarded thoughts.
He couldn’t help himself but make a mistake.
In the past century, faced with such situations, Yin Ci would always come up with a fabricated background to prevent the other party from digging deeper. Just like back in Yuanxian Village, lying was always easy for him.
However, such bullshit about having “drunk immortal wine” almost slipped out, but Yin Ci swallowed it back himself.
He looked at those bright eyes and remained silent for a long time. Shi Jingzhi intentionally brought it up, so his master knew exactly what he was doing. Had this fox finally noticed?
…Had he realized that, regardless of the reasons, he could no longer deceive him as he had done in the past?
With his heart being openly placed in his hands, there was only one answer he could give.
“What’s the matter, Shizun? Are you coming to capture me? I can promise you right now that no matter what your fate may be, I will be there with you until the end. My affection for Shizun is not a lie.”
Yin Ci placed the Hanging Shadow Sword down and smiled in response.
“Even if Shizun knows the truth, the current situation won’t change.”
Seeing that Yin Ci didn’t casually deflect the question anymore, Shi Jingzhi’s smile became even more radiant, his eyes forming crescents.
“Why wouldn’t it change?”
This time, he took the initiative and played with Yin Ci’s hair for a while.
“The human heart is multifaceted, and seeing is believing. In the past month, I have come to understand Yan Budu even more than you.”
“Since A’Ci has seen my vulnerable side, I also want to see A’Ci’s. What kind of person you are and how you ended up here, I want to know.”
“I need to know.”
The author has something to say:
Fox: It’s impossible for a son, and it’s also impossible to be a son in this lifetime.
Kinky Translations 