Help Ch106

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 106: Disguise Team

The second floor was covered in damp, muddy soil.

It glistened with a dark brown-black sheen, faintly wet. The smell of earth pressed down like a suffocating burial. Even the doorway had turned into a makeshift wooden frame, beyond which lay pitch blackness.

After entering, they realized the “pitch darkness” wasn’t an illusion. It was true, ink-like darkness, so deep they couldn’t see their hands in front of their faces.

The four in the dark: “……”

Fang Xiu rubbed his fingers together and summoned a handful of ghost flames in his left hand. The red light illuminated their surroundings. They stood in what could have been a mine shaft or an ancient tomb passageway, flanked by heavy, silent shadows.

There was a foul odor in the air that was hard to describe. If the outside world was like clear running water, this air was more like rotting water from a flower vase. With each breath, Fang Xiu felt as though spores were setting up permanent residence in his lungs.

And that was before even considering the oxygen levels.

Now he understood why the Underworld sent a ghost courier along. In a place like this, they’d suffocate without intervention. The Underworld wouldn’t interfere in their fights with evil spirits, but if the environment itself became a threat, it would intervene.

Imagining an Underworld courier doubling as a giant underground ventilation fan, Fang Xiu couldn’t help but smile.

His teammates had toughened up too. In earlier rituals, this scene would’ve caused chaos. But now the other three were calm, almost monk-like, with a serenity that made them seem unshakable.

Even Guan He wasn’t trembling. He just looked around cautiously.

Fang Xiu flicked his fingers again and summoned the little black dog. The dog sniffed the soil, wagging its tail as it led them in a direction.

“Let’s go.” Fang Xiu walked ahead for once as the group’s “torchbearer”. Their shoes crunched over the gritty earth, the noise unnervingly loud.

While Fang Xiu kept an eye on the ground, Bai Shuangying watched the distant karmic threads.

“There are four other living people here, scattered far apart.”

After that truth-or-dare session, Bai Shuangying didn’t bother hiding his powers. “Three groups: one of two, and two solo. This time the teams are small.”

The black dog barked twice in agreement, licking the cool hem of Bai Shuangying’s robe.

Fang Xiu replied, “Makes sense. Disaster Resolver teams are never large.”

A “consecutive E resolution” required strong cohesion. The Underworld probably had strict team-size limits to reduce unpredictable outcomes.

The previous teams—the Jiao Yan duo, the twin monks, Zhuang Pengdao and his disciples—had all been tightly bound groups. In contrast, their own team was the odd one out.

That thought made Fang Xiu suddenly stop. Guan He, scanning the area, nearly bumped into him. “???”

“Let’s pretend we’re two separate teams.” Fang Xiu explained, “We’ve got too many people. Even with fake names, we’ll stand out.”

“Everyone knows ‘Fang Xiu resolved the Mid-Autumn E’, but all they know is that I’m a young man. They don’t know what my teammates look like.”

Guan He suddenly understood.

Their team, composed of men, women, and even a dog, was definitely memorable.

“Xiao Guan, you team up with Cheng Jie and Mei Lan. I’ll lend you the dog.”

Fang Xiu crouched and patted the black dog’s head. “We don’t know what kinds of traps are here. This guy can save your lives.”

After all, it was a ghost immortal, naturally sensitive to life-preserving paths.

Cheng Songyun asked calmly, “And you, Xiao Fang?”

“I’ll just conjure a teammate. Bai Shuangying, drop the disguise.”

Bai Shuangying stepped out of the shadows, and the others paused for a beat.

Understandably so… His new look was…

Perhaps at Fang Xiu’s request, this seductive ghost had dropped his usual ancient style. The flowing white robes were replaced with a crisp white T-shirt and matching pants and shoes that mirrored Fang Xiu’s outfit perfectly.

His long hair was pulled into a low ponytail, loosely tied behind his head. With that ethereal face, he now resembled a “modern exorcist”.

But standing next to Fang Xiu, they looked more like a couple.

And not just any couple. They gave off an ominous “red and white double specter” vibe. The colors and their appearance made it clear: these two were no amateurs in metaphysics.

Fang Xiu boldly took his ghost’s hand. “Now your ‘group of three’ won’t raise any suspicions. We’ve got two ‘young men’ on our side. It’ll be hard to tell which one is the real Fang Xiu.”

Guan He, apparently excluded from the “young man” category, looked like he had opinions but said nothing.

Mei Lan patted the black dog’s head. “You two are going to act separately?”

“No, just a bit of distance. We’ll say we allied partway through.”

“…Fine.”

Honestly, they didn’t even need to act. Those two clung to each other so closely that it created an unspoken bubble no one could break into. Mei Lan wanted to complain but couldn’t bring herself to joke around.

This Immortal E they were after was tricky. Even knowing what it looked like in advance wouldn’t help much.

It was just too well-hidden.

……

“It’s too well-hidden,” a young man said lazily. “Rather than hunting it down, might as well wait for it to find us.”

“Cen Ge, you know a lot about the ‘Grave-Sealing E?” asked the youth beside him.

“Not really. But there are records in the sect.” The man swung a white lantern, smiling brightly.

“I remember bits and pieces about most of the Immortal E’s acquired in the past twenty years.”

The candlelight filtered through the yellowed paper, casting a soft glow. “Cen Ge”, Cen Ling, walked normally, but the flame inside the lantern didn’t flicker at all, as if frozen in place.

The light revealed their faces.

Cen Ling wasn’t quite as striking as Zhuang Pengdao, but he was handsome in a “just right” kind of way.

With soft features and warm energy, he gave off an approachable, boy-next-door charm. The kind of guy women liked and men didn’t dislike.

The boy beside him was also bright-eyed and quick-footed.

“I only heard it was an old jade cicada with blood staining…about this big.”

He cupped his hands to show the size. “It seems someone found it in an antique shop and used it to seal a tomb.”

“Sounds about right.”

Cen Ling chuckled. “That thing is drawn to the living. It’ll come to us on its own. If we go looking, we’d be searching forever.”

“Huh, drawn to the living?”

The youth shivered, rubbing the goosebumps on his arms.

“Yeah. But we’ll be fine. We’ve got each other’s backs.”

“The two moving solo are the ones in trouble. Once we regroup, it’ll be fine. We’re all from the same side. We know how to play it smart.”

“Hey, what’s up with that ‘Fang Xiu’ guy?”

“I’m curious too.”

Cen Ling spoke as if commenting on a local legend. “He resolved the Mid-Autumn E. He should be somewhat well-known, but he’s staying so low-key I’m starting to suspect he’s government-affiliated.”

“Government or not, doesn’t matter.” The youth said with disdain, “No one on either side, yin or yang, can control our sect leader. The officials up top are just cannon fodder.”

Cen Ling didn’t respond, smiling faintly. But the expression didn’t reach his eyes.

“Alright, we don’t get many chances like this. Let’s take in the sights.”

He lifted the lantern, casting light on the rugged, ancient tunnel.

“Even if it’s abandoned, this place is still our holy land. Many of our brothers and sisters are buried here.”

“Wait… you think the leader raised monsters here? I mean, uh, Immortal creatures?”

Cen Ling’s smile widened. “Of course.”

“What do you think the ‘Grave-Sealing E’ is sealing, hm?”

……

After walking two or three hours, the passage opened up.

“Opened up” wasn’t exactly right. The atmosphere was still heavy, but at least there was more space. At the end of the corridor lay a massive hollow chamber, scattered with remnants of ancient buildings.

In the limited lighting, the ruins were clearly in disrepair. Vines crawled over stone, moss covered what had once been colorful paint. It looked centuries old. Yet some parts seemed suspiciously new, new enough to have been built last week.

The only upside was the presence of several recently installed eternal lamps. Fang Xiu didn’t hesitate to light up every dark spot, bringing a faint sense of life to the place.

Guan He looked around, appalled at the hybrid architecture. “This is heritage destruction, isn’t it?”

The modern repairs were obviously unprofessional. Some areas used contemporary masonry techniques that clashed violently with the original structures, like red bricks shoved into a gray-brick wall.

Cheng Songyun clicked her tongue. “It’s a massive mausoleum…”

“The imperial tomb of the last emperor of the Kui Dynasty,” Mei Lan said softly. “It was never finished. The Kui dynasty fell before it was completed. The Guishan Sect turned it into a stronghold. It’s been officially sealed by the government.”

Guan He was confused. “But there’s no sign of government work here?”

If the authorities found it, shouldn’t there have been full-scale excavation and preservation efforts?

Mei Lan gave a bitter smile. “The things inside were too dangerous. All they could do was seal it and deal with it slowly.”

Guan He: “……”

So they were standing in a thousand-year-old tomb, once occupied by a cult, and now marked by the state as “too dangerous to excavate”. How lovely.

He moved stiffly, staying within half a step of Cheng Songyun.

Fang Xiu touched the ancient stone wall. Mei Lan’s explanation matched his research. The architecture clearly followed the Kui Dynasty style.

The Kui had been one of the strongest dynasties in history.

Like many others, it had risen in glory, flourished, and collapsed into a century of chaos. Most people forgot its last emperor, but they remembered its last “immortal”: Zhuang Guiqu.

According to legend, Zhuang Guiqu was half-human, half-immortal, and could split the heavens with one hand. In the dynasty’s final days, when ghosts ran rampant, he and his disciples traveled the land, resolving disasters.

Even in recent centuries, his name lived on in countless stories and operas. But as metaphysics waned, those tales became mere superstition.

…Until someone decided to make use of them in modern times.

Fang Xiu’s fingers clenched tighter around the stone. His nails dug into the cracks.

“Oh, you all got here first!”

A cheerful voice called from behind. “Good evening, everyone.”

“Welcome to the holy land of our sect. My name is Cen Ling.”


The author has something to say:

Disguised identities ×

Publicly showing affection √


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

Help Ch105

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 105: A Short Break by the Roadside

“Did you hear? Zhuang Pengdao died. His whole team was wiped out.”

“Yeah, I heard. There’s a Guishan Sect member on our side too…”

Whispers filled the darkness.

“No way. That guy was a big name. He had four anomalies. Normal evil spirits shouldn’t be able to kill him!”

“Then someone else must’ve done it. Caught him off guard, stabbed him in the back~”

“Why kill him, though? Wasn’t he focused on resolving E’s? Never heard of him causing trouble.”

“Hey, that’s because anyone he couldn’t use… ended up dead.”

“If Master Zhuang’s dead, how did those two slackers survive?”

Yan Yan finally couldn’t hold back. “Who are you calling slackers?!”

Soft laughter echoed from all directions.

Yan Yan rolled his eyes in frustration but no one could see. Right now, they were all inside a private metaphysical gathering.

Only darkness surrounded them, lit by flickering candles of various lengths. The flames stretched endlessly into the shadows, too many to count.

Each candle was like a “vest” representing a metaphysics practitioner. They came in all shapes and sizes, forming a strange sort of landscape.

Voices drifted from the flames, soft yet close, as though someone were whispering right beside the ear regardless of distance.

This was a soul-projection illusion built through arcane means: a VR-style anonymous forum.

While Yan Yan fumed quietly, Jiao Jiao spoke up, swearing loudly. “Surviving to the end is winning! What, you only respect full DPS parties in games and look down on support?”

The two of them did have unorthodox skill sets, which were better suited for investigation than combat.

Jiao Jiao specialized in divination and magical potions. Yan Yan’s offensive strength was somewhere between a fox spirit and a police dog. They’d gotten lucky so far as none of the rituals they’d been in were chaotic battle royales. That’s the only reason they were still alive and whole.

This time, they still weren’t frontline fighters. But so what? Zhuang Pengdao was dead, and they were still breathing!

“Yeah yeah, you two know how to turtle up. You’re soooo amazing.”

A sarcastic voice came from the other end, then changed the subject. “Anyway, no way it was you two who killed him. Those two monks are gone too. Must’ve been that new team?”

“Oh, right. They went for an evaluation. That means it was the new Disaster Resolvers.”

“Has anyone talked to them? There wasn’t a peep beforehand… Fox, say something.”

Yan Yan stayed quiet.

He didn’t really remember. After watching Fang Xiu “destroy” the Yellow Millet E, he’d assumed the paper figure would show up soon. So he and Jiao Jiao had sprawled out and gone to sleep like the dead.

When they returned to the Tower, they found out Zhuang Pengdao was dead. His whole three-person team was gone.

Was it really Fang Xiu’s group who did it…?

Zhuang Pengdao had been brutal, but toward the end, it seemed like all three teams had worked together to break the final puzzle. Why would Fang Xiu’s team strike after it was over?

And succeed in killing Zhuang Pengdao no less!

Yan Yan was now unsure whether Fang Xiu’s claim of being a “normal person” meant anything at all. He didn’t seem remotely “normal”.

“Zhuang Pengdao and his two apprentices were strong. If it came to a real fight, it should’ve made a big scene. Who the hell are those guys?” The conversation continued during Yan Yan’s silence.

“Anyone who could resolve that Mid-Autumn E must be tough. No doubt about it.”

“Whatever. They’re proper Disaster Resolvers now. Someone’s bound to meet them.”

“Heh, with how hard they hit last time, the Underworld will just assign them an even harder ritual. We’ll see then… Fox, can you at least tell us how they look? So we can recognize them.”

After some thought, Yan Yan decided to remain silent.

His family had always emphasized repaying favors. He’d heard every fox-family bedtime story about it.

The feud between Fang Xiu and Zhuang Pengdao was their business. As far as results went, he and Jiao Jiao had contributed the least. They basically got pulled along.

So there was no need to sell out Fang Xiu’s info for a little benefit. Who knew how many grudge-holders lurked among the Disaster Resolvers?

“I don’t remember.”

Yan Yan said slowly, “The Yellow Millet E messes with the mind. My head’s been killing me.”

Jiao Jiao caught on immediately and played along. They both stuck to the story: fuzzy memory, can’t recall the other team at all.

In the distant shadows, a stubby red candle burned quietly. A low sigh emerged from the flame.

The paper figure had said they’d be assigned to the same team as Fang Xiu next time. What a shame. There was no way to get information ahead of time.

Zhuang Pengdao had been mid-tier in the Guishan Sect.

He was Zhuang Chongyue’s blood relative—sharp, charming, and skilled at recruiting followers. Zhuang Chongyue had planned to secure him a nice position, but now he was gone.

Since someone had dared cross Guishan Sect, that strange team no longer had the right to live.

……

“For the next ritual, please don’t use your real names.”

At breakfast, Mei Lan stood and bowed slightly to the other three. “I killed someone very troublesome. There’s a high chance we’ll encounter someone seeking revenge.”

Cheng Songyun and Guan He glanced at each other, then looked toward Fang Xiu.

Fang Xiu, meanwhile, was happily being fed by his seductive ghost. Bai Shuangying, having thoroughly enjoyed eating Fang Xiu earlier, was now graciously returning the favor—preparing a delicious breakfast just for his human.

At the moment, Bai Shuangying was seriously deboning fish, neatly stacking the snow-white fillets on Fang Xiu’s plate.

He watched intently as Fang Xiu chewed and swallowed each bite before calmly processing the next piece.

As for the less perfect scraps, Bai Shuangying would casually flick them off the edge of the table with his chopsticks, where the little black dog waited below to gobble them up.

The other three: “……”

The worst part was that Fang Xiu didn’t seem to find anything strange about this. His gaze toward Bai Shuangying was openly soft.

To put it mildly, the atmosphere refused to stay serious. Combined with those two faces, the whole scene gave off a strangely decadent air. Anyone walking in might think they’d stumbled into some sort of pleasure den.

“You’re talking about Zhuang Pengdao, huh.”

Fang Xiu swallowed a mouthful of fish and popped open a soda. “You don’t have to worry too much. Even if you hadn’t killed him, I would’ve.”

To be honest, he was a little disappointed he hadn’t gotten to do it himself. But seeing how furious Mei Lan had been at the time, clearly fueled by both personal vendetta and righteous fury, he hadn’t had the heart to steal the kill.

Guan He asked in a small voice, “What exactly happened?”

Fang Xiu shrugged. “The guy was part of a cult. I’ve got a personal grudge with them. If I’m not mistaken, Miss Mei’s in the same boat.”

He paused meaningfully but chose not to mention Mei Lan’s past ties to the Guishan Sect.

Mei Lan’s eyes flickered. “You guessed right.”

“Good that it’s out in the open now. In the final three rituals, if we don’t all pull in the same direction, things could get messy.”

Fang Xiu smiled. “Using fake names is no big deal. There’s a good chance we’ll run into more of their people in the next trial.”

With that, he cheerfully bit into another piece of fish, completely at ease. He was clearly ready to move on from the topic.

Mei Lan stood frozen beside her seat, stammering. She had clearly prepared a long explanation, but Fang Xiu had given her no opening to deliver it.

“I’d advise against giving your life story at a time like this. You might not survive the next ritual.”

Fang Xiu said, “See, I never talk about my past.”

Mei Lan: “……”

Guan He: “……???”

“Don’t worry, Xiao Guan. You can talk if you want. You’re underage. You’ve got a built-in immunity clause.” Fang Xiu patted his shoulder with the tone of a serious elder, as if that clause actually existed.

After that string of nonsense, the tension completely fell apart. Everyone seemed on the verge of speaking, only to swallow their words in the end.

Beside Fang Xiu, Bai Shuangying’s hands slowed in preparing the fish.

He pried apart a piece of pale meat, exposing the translucent spine beneath. His gaze drifted from the sharp bones to Fang Xiu.

Here we go again.

No questions. No explanations. No concern. Fang Xiu’s three golden rules for interpersonal relations.

The longer Bai Shuangying observed him, the more clearly he sensed a line in the sand.

Just like in the old theory of intersecting lines, Fang Xiu moved forward on a predetermined path.

His care for Cheng Songyun and Guan He, his attention and leniency toward Mei Lan… even his affection for Bai Shuangying. All these were things along the “side of the road”.

His human might pause to admire the view, slow down to touch a pretty flower, or lean against a tree to rest and bandage a bleeding heel.

But in the end, Fang Xiu would always move forward and eventually leave his field of vision entirely.

He’d said he would remember Fang Xiu, but now he wanted to remember more. Faced with a banquet, it wasn’t enough to only recall the first plate of appetizers.

…Three rituals left.

For the first time in his existence, Bai Shuangying felt that time was moving too quickly.

It rankled. He wanted to collapse right then and there like a tree, pin Fang Xiu in the middle of the road, and make him stay.

As Bai Shuangying paused, Fang Xiu’s fish supply dwindled. So Fang Xiu leaned forward and snatched the fish right out of his ghost’s hand, his tongue grazing Bai Shuangying’s fingertips.

Bai Shuangying muttered something under his breath, then licked the leftover sauce from his fingers.

“I have something else to say.”

Mei Lan raised her voice slightly, her tone laced with fatigue. “About the Immortal E in the next ritual… I know a bit about it…”

Fang Xiu finally looked up and stared at her in silence.

This time, all the ease vanished from his face, replaced by a predatory focus.

……

Three days later, the Underworld officially scheduled the next ritual, calling it a “special privilege for Disaster Resolvers”.

Fang Xiu wasn’t surprised. Clearly, when it came to reliable tools, the Underworld didn’t want to break them too quickly. They were willing to take the time to maintain them.

Another benefit came with it…

“This Immortal E is rather unusual, so the Underworld will be assigning a ghost courier to accompany you.”

Dian’er bowed and scraped. “I wish all of you the best of luck and great success!”

Fang Xiu ignored the paper figure’s empty flattery and walked side by side with his ghost to the second floor.

As soon as they reached the stairs, a strange fish smell hit them like a wave.


The author has something to say:

A new ritual begins—!!!

Come to think of it, Xiao Fang has been fishing all along… Setting a long line to catch Xiao Bai!


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

Help Ch104

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 104: Secret Dealings

Breaking dozens of seal chains felt like regaining feeling in one’s fingers. Bai Shuangying could sense the changes in human karma.

Breaking hundreds of chains was like being able to move a pinky. Bai Shuangying could tug at karmic threads on human bodies and observe or disturb them individually.

Breaking thousands was like freeing a whole hand. Maybe then, he could part the mists of the Heavens and glimpse the full scope of karma.

He pressed the increasingly feverish human onto his thigh, channeling all his power into his eyes.

Good.

The power sealed for a thousand years began to flow, sluggish but steady. Fang Xiu’s karmic threads shimmered and warped like summer heat waves, starting to take shape. If he just pushed a little harder, focused a little more…

Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed the blood-colored mole on Bai Shuangying’s left cheek.

He flinched so hard he nearly lost his human form. The energy he’d just gathered dispersed instantly.

Something warm and damp touched the mole. It was Fang Xiu’s fingertip. He gently rubbed the mark, and the lingering pain vanished completely.

To be honest, Fang Xiu almost burst out laughing at how shameless this was.

As soon as the chains broke, his ghost had opened his eyes wide and leaned in like he meant to chew him up with his gaze.

Then the ghost contract between them got in the way, and Bai Shuangying reeled back with a sour face, like someone had poured lemon juice in his eyes. But he still kept holding tightly onto him.

It was so straightforward that it was kind of cute.

Fang Xiu couldn’t be bothered to hide his metaphysical knowledge anymore. “We have a ghost contract. Our karmas are linked. Even Jiao Jiao couldn’t divine Yan Yan’s fate, right? What’s that phrase again…”

Bai Shuangying drooped his head. “Heaven’s will must not be revealed*.”

*(天机不可泄漏) It’s a saying referring to confidential matters cannot be disclosed in advance before the time comes… but in this case, it also applies literally.

How frustrating. He had never been karmically bound to anyone before. In the excitement of regaining power, Bai Shuangying had completely forgotten about that.

Looks like the best he could do now was pluck a single karmic thread and glimpse bits of Fang Xiu’s past.

Unless the ritual ended and the ghost contract was lifted. Or he is fully liberated and forced his way past the rules… But by then, they would already be parting ways. There would be no point in probing further.

Bai Shuangying looked up. With nearly five thousand chains broken, the “cage of chains” around him had visibly changed. Where once a dense wall had encased him, now broken links jutted out like a frayed cloth.

The thrill of unsealing had faded. He was left with the quiet satisfaction of progress. But more than that, he was focused on something else—the deepening “understanding” between him and Fang Xiu.

Was Fang Xiu on the verge of collapse? …Then why couldn’t he tell?

He had seen countless humans break down before, and none of them looked this calm.

“Still playing?” Bai Shuangying asked dully.

The dare round was over. It was Fang Xiu’s turn to ask a question. As Bai Shuangying absently toyed with his human’s soft body, he felt an odd restlessness. This position was quite nice, and he didn’t want to let go just yet.

Fang Xiu didn’t move either. He sat on Bai Shuangying’s thigh, fingers idly twirling his ghost’s hair.

“What’s the first thing you want to do after unsealing?”

Bai Shuangying almost said “kill you”, but found that thought had quietly vanished. His human was far too unique to waste.

“Destroy the human world”? But then he thought of the billions of people and all the cities he hadn’t yet seen… and suddenly felt unmotivated.

Maybe something less drastic, something fun, like…

“Reduce the Disaster Relief Tower to ashes,” Bai Shuangying compromised.

Then he could settle some scores with the disciples of Zhuang Guiqu. After that, depending on his mood… As he made mental plans, his hand gently stroked Fang Xiu’s back.

Fang Xiu wrapped an arm around Bai Shuangying’s neck and chuckled lowly.

The tone Bai Shuangying used sounded like someone casually rearranging travel plans. If this ghost had any sense of subtlety, their relationship would be something entirely different.

“What are you laughing at?” Bai Shuangying stopped moving.

“Was that really a truth-or-dare question?”

“Mm.” Bai Shuangying was afraid Fang Xiu might dodge it.

Fang Xiu pinched his ear. “I was just thinking… Turns out you’re a powerful ghost half step away from being a ghost immortal. That’s reassuring. When we part ways, I won’t have to worry about you getting bullied by other ghosts.”

Half-truth, half-lie.

In his mind, his ghost had gone from a lazy, evil spirit slacker to a determined prison-breaker. That might explain the string of “death” words that appeared when Bai Shuangying was summoned—maybe it really was pure, honest rage.

Luckily, after all Fang Xiu had seen, Bai Shuangying’s nuclear-level hostility wasn’t at the detonation point just yet.

He’d keep an eye on the human world. As for fate in the Underworld… well that’s up to them to decide.

On the topic of being evaluated as a “half-step ghost immortal”, Bai Shuangying only frowned slightly, not denying it. The powerful evil spirit pricked his ears, waiting quietly for Fang Xiu’s next question.

Fang Xiu smiled with relief and shook his head lightly. “That’s all. I don’t have anything else I want to ask.”

At those words, a flicker of disappointment passed through Bai Shuangying’s eyes.

This was unfair. He still had so many questions. For a moment, he even wanted to reveal his true identity, just to spark Fang Xiu’s curiosity.

But not yet.

Fang Xiu’s morals had only degraded 99%. If that remaining 1% kicked in and made him act on behalf of humanity, Bai Shuangying’s only hope for unsealing would be gone.

No matter how poorly he understood the human heart, Bai Shuangying wasn’t going to trip over the same trap twice.

What a shame. When would Fang Xiu next open up like that?

He patted Fang Xiu’s soft, fluffy hair with a quiet sigh.

…Fang Xiu didn’t notice Bai Shuangying’s small frustration.

He rested his chin on the ghost’s shoulder, forcefully tamping down the heat in his body.

Then, with a pleased wiggle, he kissed Bai Shuangying on the lips. A warm feeling bubbled up, softening the glacier-like exhaustion in his chest.

“Want some snacks?” His breath was warm against Bai Shuangying’s skin.

Bai Shuangying cupped Fang Xiu’s cheek in response.

As the sound of kissing filled the room, broken chains clinked softly.

The little black dog watched as the kiss went from seated to lying down and pouted with a yawn. It bit on a chain angrily. With four hands in the room, why wasn’t even one used to pet it? They only know how to touch each other!

……

“Are you saying the Disaster Relief Tower is extremely dangerous?”

Beneath her hood, A’Shou raised a brow. “Girl, do you know what you’re saying?”

Mei Lan kept her head lowered. “Yes.”

“I’ve heard plenty of nonsense from sacrificial offerings. If I haven’t heard a thousand tall tales, I’ve heard at least eight hundred.”

A’Shou remained impassive.

“They say the Disaster Relief Tower harbors a shocking conspiracy, that the Underworld is in grave danger, or that they’re immortals sent down to undergo tribulations—all just to win special treatment and survive the ritual.”

“I’m not trying to convince you. I know the Underworld won’t mobilize over the words of a mere offering.”

Mei Lan respectfully bowed, giving a formal and old-fashioned salute. “I just want to ask if you know someone named ‘Cen Ling’.” She followed up by reciting his birth details from memory.

A’Shou waved at Dian’er, who hurriedly brought over a scroll thick as a log. A’Shou hooked her finger, and the scroll rapidly unfurled on both ends, revealing lines of wild cursive calligraphy.

“There is such a person.” A’Shou tapped a patch of ink. “And quite a capable Disaster Resolver at that.”

Mei Lan licked her dry lips, her breath trembling slightly.

“In the next ritual, please assign us to the same trial.” She spoke gently. “In exchange, I can offer a target. I’ll tell you the location of the ‘Grave-Sealing E’. It’s also an Immortal E. The Underworld likely hasn’t noticed it yet.”

“He’s a high-ranking member of the Guishan Sect. If you send someone to quietly tail him, you’ll soon see the truth.”

“The Underworld will verify the ‘Grave-Sealing E’. If what you say is true, I’ll agree to this exchange.”

A’Shou rubbed the dried characters. “But you bypassed your team leader and came directly to me? Girl, this could stir up trouble.”

“Whatever he says, I’ll still go through with it. Once you’ve confirmed it, I’ll explain it to them.” A hint of weariness showed in Mei Lan’s eyes.

“…And I’ll offer compensation.”

“Very well.” A’Shou waved her hand, her tone softening.

An undiscovered Immortal E was like a bomb hidden underground or a sealing opportunity served on a silver platter. The Underworld couldn’t refuse such terms.

Meng Xiaomeng turned her head slightly, listening in a haze.

She had only truthfully confessed to stealing the Yellow Millet E from her dad. The rest of the discussion was out of her depth.

But she did recognize the name “Guishan Sect”.

That sect had been hugely popular once, before the government cracked down on it over several years. Even her not-so-great school had taught about it in class.

Whether her dad had ties to Guishan, though, she really didn’t know. She had no memories of him. Her mother never spoke of him, and didn’t want her to meet him.

Thinking of her mother, Meng Xiaomeng swayed slightly, her soul energy suddenly thrown into disarray.

“You.”

A’Shou pointed at her. “Your soul is far too damaged. You’ll need to rest in a place of extreme yin for a while. For the next forty-nine days, you’ll serve as a wandering soul courier, running errands between yin and yang on my behalf.”

With that, she opened a drawer and took out a stack of fine xuan paper and an old pair of iron scissors.

The scissors snipped through the paper with a crisp sound. The cut pieces floated up on their own, pasting themselves over the gaps in Meng Xiaomeng’s soul.

After a short while, her limbs were whole again, and her head was restored. Only one side of her face was now drawn in ink lines, giving her a slight resemblance to a paper figure.

Meng Xiaomeng’s eyes regained some clarity. “Thank you…”

“You’re thanking me too early. I didn’t save you out of kindness.”

A’Shou put away the scissors without emotion. “You’re carrying the karmic debt of a Disaster Resolver. If your soul had scattered just like that, who would the Underworld go after to collect?”

Meng Xiaomeng: “…”

In an instant, her expression became a tangled mix of despair, regret, and a hint of grievance. She had no memory of what happened in the dream.

“Go see your mother.” Mei Lan suddenly interjected. “No matter how bad your relationship is, you still have a future together.”

“But my mom—” Meng Xiaomeng started to protest, then abruptly stopped, as if her mouth had a mind of its own.

Under A’Shou’s curious gaze, Mei Lan stepped forward and smoothed out Meng Xiaomeng’s hair.

“I hated my parents too, at your age. I carried a blood debt. But you still have a chance to atone for your sins. You’re still worth saving.”

“I’m not.”

She smiled faintly. “Turn back while you still can. Don’t become like me.”

“Goodbye, Meng Xiaomeng.”


The author has something to say:

Xiao Fang: I’m such a bad guy. What if he still has a conscience and reports me?

Xiao Bai: I’m such a bad guy. What if he still has a conscience and reports me?

How is this not a perfect match (?


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Help Ch103

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 103: Within the Plan

Punishment.

Bai Shuangying wasn’t very familiar with the concept. Normally, he didn’t “punish” anyone. If something angered him, he’d just erase it outright.

Now, the dignified Lord Bai stood up and grabbed Fang Xiu under the arms, lifting his human off the bed. Fang Xiu was by no means short, but Bai Shuangying’s terrifying strength left his feet dangling in midair.

Fang Xiu: “…”

He had only ever seen this pose in “lift the child” games. Was this some new kind of humiliating punishment?

Combined with Bai Shuangying’s uncharacteristically serious expression, Fang Xiu started to feel a little uneasy.

Think about something else. Think about the real issue. He tried to redirect his attention.

Bai Shuangying’s seal was loosening, and Fang Xiu could guess why.

It was, overall, a side effect of his life plan. But to explain it clearly would mean revealing his ultimate goal and he wasn’t ready for that.

Bai Shuangying wasn’t someone who could be reasoned with in conventional terms. Fang Xiu had worked toward his plan for more than a decade. If he got flustered now and told everything to this seductive ghost, he might as well rename himself King Zhou of Shang*.

*He’s often used as an example for someone who let their desires and temptation overrides their reason and would lose sight of their goals. In legends, he offended the Goddess Nuwa who then sent the fox demon Daji to seduce King Zhou, eventually leading to his downfall and the Shang dynasty.

Maybe at the very end, when everything was settled, he’d tell the ghost he liked.

But for now, he just wanted to make sure that the impact of the loosening seal remained controllable, that it wouldn’t bring disaster to the mortal realm.

Good, he had sorted out his thoughts… so why was he still being held in midair?

Bai Shuangying kept holding him up, eyes scanning him from the top of his head to his toes, and then back again with the thoroughness of a wall repainting job.

During the inspection, he looked like he was in deep thought. It was very much like a kid told they can only pick one toy in the store, weighing the decision like an emperor choosing a where to dispatch his troops.

Fang Xiu didn’t know what to say. He felt like a walking menu.

After five more minutes, he couldn’t hold back. “I don’t have any hidden price list on me.”

Bai Shuangying gave a soft hum, then flipped him over and studied his back.

Fang Xiu: “……”

He lowered his head and locked eyes with the confused little black dog circling below, head tilted as if it wanted to be lifted too.

The good news: after being flipped back and forth like a pancake, Bai Shuangying finally set him down.

The bad news: Bai Shuangying sat back on the bed and placed Fang Xiu on his lap. With an arm still wrapped around his waist, Fang Xiu didn’t even have time to catch his breath before a cold hand slid under his shirt and touched his chest.

As the icy palm moved across his chest, Fang Xiu instinctively shivered twice.

“I’ve thought of a punishment,” Bai Shuangying announced. “From now, you’ll give me one incense stick’s worth of ‘getting-to-know-you time’.”

Fang Xiu blinked. “What does that mean?”

Bai Shuangying made an outrageous demand. “You answer what I ask, do what I do. If you really don’t want to answer, you can say so, but you can’t lie.”

“You’re really greedy.” Fang Xiu twitched a smile.

It was clearly an unreasonable request, like wishing for three more wishes. He could’ve easily refused it.

And yet, he was curious.

What went on inside this strange evil spirit’s mind—one sealed so thoroughly by the Underworld?

“All right, ask away.”

He lightly pressed his hand over Bai Shuangying’s, still resting against his chest.

Bai Shuangying lowered his eyes, hand sliding up toward his collarbone, fingers lightly pinching the bones beneath.

“What food do you like?” he asked in a soft voice.

Fang Xiu: “?” Was this a freebie?

“My dad’s fermented bean curd pork ribs. My grandma’s sesame sugar pastries. I don’t like fatty meat or Sichuan peppercorns.”

“What’s your favorite color?” Bai Shuangying asked again.

Fang Xiu: “…Red.”

“What kind of humans do you like?”

“Good-looking, smart, and emotionally intelligent. Two out of three is fine.”

Bai Shuangying paused for two seconds, murmuring something unintelligible in his throat.

His palm, warmed by Fang Xiu’s body heat, felt like it was melting into his skin. Fingers brushed his throat, nearly lifting the hem of his red shirt entirely.

After gently caressing his neck, that ghostly hand moved back toward his chest, fingers teasing a particular spot, tugging here and there.

Fang Xiu’s face flushed. He tried to steady his breath.

He couldn’t tell if Bai Shuangying was touching him out of curiosity, flirtation, or affectionate petting like with an animal.

Trying to leave Bai Shuangying’s lap proved futile. The ghost held him firmly in place.

…This “dare” was pushing its limits.

“What kind of touch do you like?” Bai Shuangying continued seriously.

Fang Xiu swallowed down a tiny moan. “Depends on who’s doing it… Why are you asking?”

After a beat, Bai Shuangying rephrased kindly. “How do you want me to touch you?”

When he said this, he still had his hand on Fang Xiu.

Fang Xiu: “…Whatever, as long as it’s gentle.”

Bai Shuangying’s questions suddenly turned from a crappy blind date to remarkable direction. Fang Xiu suddenly felt he should not be curious about the ideas his ghost had.

What’s worse, Bai Shuangying earnestly took note and actually softened his touch, making it harder to endure. His ghostly hand slid down to Fang Xiu’s waist.

Then, with dissatisfaction, the ghost muttered, “None of this counts?”

Fang Xiu gave him a deadpan stare. “…”

Whatever Bai Shuangying was calculating, Fang Xiu’s brain was just screaming “forget it, forget it”.

Then, as Bai Shuangying’s hand neared his mouth, Fang Xiu gave a small bite to one knuckle.

“I don’t understand why the Underworld had to seal you.” Breathless, Fang Xiu said, “With a personality like yours… negotiating would’ve worked better than suppression.”

For someone this strong but this straightforward, coaxing would always work better than brute force.

“Suppression” should be a last resort. Coming in too aggressively would only provoke backlash. Even if you succeeded, you’d create a vengeful enemy.

Bai Shuangying froze briefly, then said resentfully, “The Underworld never even talked to me!”

Fang Xiu replied gently, “If you went around destroying things first, that’s not surprising. Ever heard of Journey to the W

“I didn’t storm the Underworld. I didn’t destroy the human world either.” His tone grew cold, though his hand kept stroking Fang Xiu. “I was just on my own territory. It was the humans who provoked me…”

Halfway through, he caught himself. “Hey, we agreed I’d be the one asking questions.”

Fang Xiu looked innocent. “I didn’t ask you anything. We’re just chatting.”

Bai Shuangying thought for a moment. Indeed, not a single question mark had come from Fang Xiu. His brows pinched together, and his hand slowed down.

Fang Xiu chuckled, sat up, and kissed the crease between Bai Shuangying’s brows.

Just then, Bai Shuangying suddenly dropped the next question:

“If you successfully pass all eight sacrificial rituals, what do you want to wish for?”

A simple, direct question.

Fang Xiu didn’t answer right away. Instead, he gently ran his hand through Bai Shuangying’s long black hair.

“I haven’t decided yet,” he said slowly.

Bai Shuangying’s fingers trailed down Fang Xiu’s back, feeling the firm, gentle rise of his spine.

This human was meticulous and ambitious. With five rituals cleared, he hadn’t even considered his final wish… Not for himself, and not for anything from the Underworld.

But if it was just survival he wanted, Fang Xiu had gone too far. He had plenty of ways to keep a low profile and stay safe.

Yet this man even knew the truth about the loosening of the Disaster Relief Tower’s seal. Clearly, he had ties to the Underworld.

And a living human could only connect with the Underworld in two ways: becoming a wandering soul under contract… or entering the sacrificial game as a living sacrifice.

Just before the incense time ended, Bai Shuangying spoke again.

“You already knew about the sacrificial ritual while you were alive?”

“Yes.”

“You wanted to use it to gain other benefits?”

“Yes.” Fang Xiu smiled.

“But if it’s benefits you want, why not just make a wish?”

Bai Shuangying was puzzled. “If even a wish can’t solve it, then the Underworld is powerless. What could you possibly do?”

“Actually, the dare time is up.”

Fang Xiu leaned forward. His red shirt was wrinkled, exposing large patches of pale skin, flushed and beaded with sweat.

“But I like you, so I’ll give you one more answer.”

“Wishes have to be made kneeling. Negotiations can be done sitting.” He leaned closer, his black eyes glimmering. “What can’t be gained through a wish might still be gotten through negotiation. It depends how far you push the other side.”

Well then, Bai Shuangying thought.

He still didn’t understand what this human wanted. But from the first moment in the ritual to now, everything had gone exactly according to Fang Xiu’s “life plan” without a single misstep.

Even millennia ago, that scheming old Zhuang Guiqu never faced the underworld with such poise.

Bai Shuangying gently pinched the fragile body before him. Humans were so easy to break; he could crush him into dust.

Truth be told, even after playing through doomsday in the Yellow Millet ritual, he hadn’t felt satisfied. His human was far more interesting. So easily destroyed, yet able to swallow endless mysteries.

Still…

Fang Xiu wasn’t even thirty, yet he already lived like a monster. No matter how gifted he was, his heart must be close to the limit.

Just then, a chorus of cracking explosions rang out in his ears.

All the chains in the room shuddered and snapped apart. Fang Xiu’s eyes widened in rare shock as he looked up.

4,096 chains had broken.

This time, Bai Shuangying didn’t bother celebrating. His pale eyes lit up as he looked straight at Fang Xiu.


The author has something to say:

Xiao Bai be like: Let me take a look!


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Help Ch102

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 102: Unexpected Answer

Fang Xiu turned on the room’s stereo and pulled out a few bags of snacks. Finally, he leaned back against the headboard, taking the posture of someone gearing up to gossip with a friend.

Bai Shuangying didn’t know what “Truth or Dare” was, but the moment he heard it involved asking any question, he quietly moved back to his seat after almost slipping away.

He sat across from Fang Xiu. “…How do we play?”

The dog rolled happily between the two as Fang Xiu stroked its belly. “We take turns asking questions. You must answer truthfully. If you really don’t want to answer, then you have to obey the other person’s command and do a punishment.”

“You? Tell the truth?”

Alarm bells went off in Bai Shuangying’s head.

That word had little to do with Fang Xiu. In just a few short months, he had witnessed plenty of bloody lessons.

Fang Xiu popped a milk candy into his mouth. “I haven’t lied to you much, have I?”

“You were faking sleep just yesterday—”

“I told you before, I’m a light sleeper.” Fang Xiu sounded quite righteous. “Even if I woke up, my body was exhausted, and I had no strength to open my eyes. How is that lying?”

Bai Shuangying was speechless.

Fine. He’d just be careful. This was a great chance to learn about Fang Xiu. Consider it a little exercise in understanding human hearts. There was no real cost anyway.

“You broke the Immortal E, so you’re in the wrong. I get to ask first.” Fang Xiu watched Bai Shuangying’s face as he sucked on his candy with a grin.

“The Shrine of All E’s doesn’t look like just a storage site. The Immortal E suppress evil spirits with terrifying strength. Put them all in one place, and the power’s unimaginable.”

“And yet you broke the Immortal E while I was ‘asleep’. Clearly, the Underworld is collecting them to suppress beings like you, right?”

“Yes.” Bai Shuangying’s fingertips twitched slightly.

Strictly speaking, the shrine wasn’t used to suppress “them” but “him” alone. But answering with a simple “yes” was still the truth.

That too was a trick he’d picked up from Fang Xiu.

Fang Xiu’s tongue pushed the candy around in his mouth. His eyes wrapped around his ghost entirely.

Bai Shuangying wasn’t good at twisting the truth.

Usually he spoke the moment he opened his mouth, with a kind of effortless flow. But when he just answered Fang Xiu, he’d paused for a second.

After pretending to sleep for a bit, Fang Xiu realized: his ghost might be more powerful than he’d imagined.

Bai Shuangying wasn’t just “knowledgeable about spiritual artifacts”.

He’d previously guided the Weishan God and the dog spirit to ascension. Then he casually manipulated the karmic bonds of the living souls of Meng Xiaomeng and Zhuang Pengdao. His powers were downright strange, increasingly unlike a “harmless support”.

Add to the pause earlier…

Even if the Shrine was suppressing countless demons, Bai Shuangying must be among the heaviest hitters.

Given his constant curiosity about the place, Fang Xiu guessed that Bai Shuangying hadn’t known much about it until he saw its interior.

But how did Bai Shuangying end up being suppressed to that extent?

Honestly, Fang Xiu couldn’t imagine it.

Bai Shuangying had nothing to do with the word “madness”. Compared to those malevolent evil spirits from stories, he was more like a reckless beast—or a majestic typhoon passing through in a grand display. He gave off a kind of raw force that didn’t involve scheming.

People like that usually suffered small setbacks or made dumb mistakes. Hardly the type to mastermind huge conspiracies.

Before, Fang Xiu hadn’t paid much attention to Bai Shuangying’s origins or strength. Whether he was stone or gold didn’t affect the plan much.

But now, it seemed this ghost of his might be a nuclear bomb wrapped in a gilded shell. That changed things.

Thinking this, Fang Xiu couldn’t help rubbing Bai Shuangying’s sleeve. It was soft.

The sleeve’s owner was still staring at him with full concentration, as serious as ever.

“You can ask me now.” Fang Xiu blinked.

Bai Shuangying asked without hesitation, “When you were alive, did you study metaphysics?”

“Yeah.” Fang Xiu answered easily. “I used to take jobs from vengeful spirits. So I had to learn basic soul knowledge and magical principles.”

“But I really wasn’t a Taoist, and I never practiced magic. I never hid that.”

“I see.” Bai Shuangying looked relieved.

He knew it. Even if Fang Xiu wasn’t some shady Taoist, he was at least halfway in the game.

“My turn now.” Fang Xiu crunched his candy. “Since you were being suppressed, I get why you destroyed the Immortal E. But what do you want from me?”

Bai Shuangying’s gaze shifted slightly, as if debating whether to answer.

Fang Xiu smiled. “If I truly cared about justice, I wouldn’t have left the ritual outcome up to you.”

“If I wanted to turn you in, I could’ve told Dian’er you were the one who broke the Immortal E… Or are you worried I’ll use that to blackmail or manipulate you?”

He leaned in, one hand crossing over the little black dog to rest on Bai Shuangying’s thigh.

“The five rituals are over,” Fang Xiu said softly, his breath carrying a sweet scent from the candy. “You’ve surely seen by now—I could’ve survived just fine without you.”

Bai Shuangying’s eyes flickered with displeasure.

“With you, I reach unexpected, more perfect outcomes.”

Fang Xiu’s voice flowed smoothly. “You’re my surprise, not my tool, Bai Shuangying.”

Bai Shuangying lowered his gaze and looked at Fang Xiu’s reaching hand.

After a moment, he swept his sleeve aside, revealing countless karmic chains.

They slowly slithered along the wall, flickering in and out of sight. Their ends were tightly locked onto Bai Shuangying’s body.

Startled by the sudden burst of chains, the little black dog tumbled off the bed and barked furiously at the shimmering links.

“When I’m with you, the karmic chains break from time to time. My seal loosens.” Bai Shuangying spoke carefully. “I don’t know why yet, but it’s definitely related to you.”

Since Fang Xiu didn’t know deep metaphysics, there was no way he’d understand what even Bai Shuangying couldn’t figure out.

Just as Bai Shuangying was about to change the subject, he noticed Fang Xiu looking at him with a half-smile. He could see some surprise in Fang Xiu’s eyes—but not shock, not confusion.

Fang Xiu extended a finger and lightly passed it through the intangible chains, then slid his fingertip along one like he was playing a harp string.

“I see.” Fang Xiu traced the chain calmly.

Bai Shuangying paused. His pale eyes locked onto Fang Xiu’s.

He quickly switched to a prepared question. “You know the reason?”

Fang Xiu’s fingers suddenly stopped. He thought, wow, my ghost is pretty sharp. Definitely got that fox immortal intuition.

“Sorry, I don’t want to answer. That’s my secret.” Fang Xiu lifted his face and answered without hesitation. “I choose ‘Dare.’ …So, what’s my punishment?”

With a smile in his eyes, he leaned back against the headboard, fingers tapping the soft pillow.

Bai Shuangying realized he’d learned something useful. At the very least, he could now tell when Fang Xiu’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

…How delightful.

…At last, he’d uncovered another layer of the “unfamiliar Fang Xiu”.

At the same time, the gates of the Shrine of All E’s gave a soft shudder.

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

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

The knocking was measured this time, not too loud or too soft, echoing through the empty corridor. Chains on the doors clinked gently.

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

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

On the other side, countless porcelain idols began to tremble as if resonating with the knocking. Jade altars rattled endlessly. Golden guardian beasts swayed over ghost contracts.

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

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

Suddenly, the knocking ceased. Silence fell over the entire temple and everything returned to normal. Even the chains on the locks remained exactly where they were.

Silent as a ghost. Unseen by the gods.

……

At the top of the Disaster Relief Tower

A’Shou frowned deeply, flipping through a mission report. Two people stood before her—Meng Xiaomeng, whose soul was only half intact, and Mei Lan, looking exhausted.

Dian’er hovered silently by A’Shou’s side, barely daring to breathe.

The Immortal E was smashed entirely because Fang Xiu slipped. That had nothing to do with Dian’er. But A’Shou was clearly in a bad mood. The paper figure feared saying the wrong thing and invoking her wrath.

“The main events happened inside a dream, so there’s little useful data.”

“On the surface, everything seemed normal. Even the strange knocking you reported last time didn’t occur this time.”

A’Shou smacked the report down on the table. “Yet Meng Xiaomeng lost her soul, and Zhuang Pengdao went mad. Fascinating. Truly fascinating.”

Dian’er quickly agreed. “Might’ve just been the wind. I misheard, yes, definitely misheard.”

Then it bent even lower.

A’Shou stared at the crumpled report.

The Yellow Millet E was never officially registered in the Underworld. They didn’t understand its exact capabilities. But its taboo, “What is dreamed at night is achieved by day”, was dangerously broad. Interpreted literally, it could explain nearly any supernatural phenomenon.

If she simply wanted to close the case, she could chalk everything up to the E’s powers. The thing was already gone. It couldn’t exactly rise up and defend itself.

But A’Shou wasn’t satisfied with that.

Meng Xiaomeng was the dream controller. Even if she was inexperienced, she shouldn’t have ended up in such a mess. And Zhuang Pengdao, a known Disaster Resolver, went mad for no clear reason.

Worst of all, there were no reliable witnesses.

Zhuang Pengdaos’s two disciples were dead. Jiao Jiao and Yan Yan had been unconscious. Cheng Songyun and Guan He had their heads buried in their bodies and could barely hear anything.

So she had to call in the two remaining parties.

Fang Xiu had a silver tongue. He could talk the dead into walking again. A’Shou decided to save the toughest one for last.

“The Underworld never meant to interfere with mortal affairs, but lately, the chaos from the Guishan Sect has grown too severe.”

A’Shou stood up. With her towering height and the high heels of her bridal dress, she looked like a bloodstained giant.

“Speak. What do you know?”


The author has something to say:

The first to take the dare was Xiao Fang~!


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Help Ch101

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 101: A Single Thread to Sever Heaven

Dian’er clutched the shattered remains of the Yellow Millet Calamity and wept with fat, heavy tears.

In the small motel room, only Bai Shuangying was still standing. All the humans had collapsed in sleep.

Four of them lay unconscious on the floor. Mei Lan, completely exhausted, had fallen onto a corpse. Even the usually slippery Fang Xiu was fast asleep. Held in the arms of his own seductive ghost, his arms were limp and unresponsive no matter how loudly anyone called him.

Dian’er and Bai Shuangying stared at each other: “……”

“Oh dear, how did it end up smashed?”

With a long sigh, Dian’er tried to piece together the wreckage. “You all dragged that girl out of the dream, so how did it break?”

Bai Shuangying gave no response, his face set in the blank expression of someone who “doesn’t understand human speech.”

Dian’er heaved a big sigh. It wiped its tears and tottered over to Meng Xiaomeng, pressing a hand to her forehead. A few seconds later, its papery features furrowed deeply with frown lines.

“Three souls incomplete, memory fragmented?”

It checked again and again, not wanting to believe it. Its strange paper face stretched into a sour grimace. “This… Haa.”

It looked hopelessly at Bai Shuangying, who still wore the blank look of a ghost who “doesn’t know anything.”

From the mortal world to the Disaster Relief Tower, Bai Shuangying kept his expression of total confusion flawlessly intact.

Only when Fang Xiu woke did his expression finally change…

As soon as he opened his eyes, his ghost pressed a kiss to his lips. Fang Xiu instinctively stiffened, then relaxed when he felt the softness of a mattress beneath him. He gently wrapped his arms around Bai Shuangying’s neck.

The little black dog leapt onto the bed with a bark, wagging its tail wildly and yapping at Fang Xiu.

Fang Xiu didn’t know how long he’d slept. But Bai Shuangying was clearly starving, and the dog looked like it thought he’d died. It must have been a long nap.

He ran his fingers over Bai Shuangying’s cheek, black hair slipping through them. Enjoying the drawn-out good morning kiss, he clung to the bed for half an hour.

When he finally stepped outside, he was surprised.

In the courtyard, Guan He and Cheng Songyun had returned to normal and were sipping porridge. Mei Lan looked dazed. She glanced at Fang Xiu briefly, then quickly looked away.

Never mind Guan He and Cheng Songyun, even Mei Lan was still alive.

And at the incense burner in the courtyard stood “half a person”.

From the look of it, it was a young Meng Xiaomeng.

Half her head was gone, neatly sliced from the bridge of her nose like a medical anatomy model. Her body looked as if several large bites had been taken out of it, with parts of her arms and legs missing.

Thankfully, the cut surfaces were pure white without any gore that was inappropriate for public view.

Meng Xiaomeng stood beside the paper figure, scanning the area with her one remaining eye. Her face wore the vacant expression of someone lost in a dream.

Fang Xiu watched her for a while thoughtfully.

He rubbed his swollen lips and glanced sideways at Bai Shuangying. Bai Shuangying remained stoic but turned his head ever so slightly away.

“Congratulations, everyone, hooray! You survived the Immortal E and have become Disaster Resolvers.”

The paper figure’s tone sounded more half-hearted than excited. “The Yellow Millet E has been resolved, and rewards will be issued to those who eliminated it, including Fang Xiu was the one to eliminate it.”

This time, there was no mention of extra prizes.

Fang Xiu didn’t ask about the anomaly skill directly. “Where’s the Immortal E?”

“Broke, dear ancestor.” The paper figure said miserably, “That thing truly shouldn’t circulate in the human world, but it was still a treasure. You should have been more careful…”

“But it was your first time handling one, so it’s understandable,” it added quickly before it could be blamed.

Fang Xiu raised an eyebrow and glanced at Bai Shuangying again.

Bai Shuangying turned his head even further, nearly a full 180 degrees.

“Why did you bring Meng Xiaomeng here?” Fang Xiu asked calmly, changing the subject.

“With her soul in that state and all that karmic residue, to wandering spirits she looks like a cooked duck.” The paper figure sighed. “When night falls, she won’t even know what’s happening before her soul gets devoured.”

Fang Xiu sucked in a breath. “Didn’t think you’d be so kind.”

The paper figure looked deeply offended. It puffed up its chest. “Kindness? She got hold of the Immortal E. Of course we had to investigate!”

Then it deflated like a balloon. “Too bad her memory shattered along with her soul and only karma remains.”

The Immortal E was broken, and the person involved had lost her memories. With no one to vent at, Dian’er grumbled a few more lines and vaguely explained Meng Xiaomeng’s condition.

Fang Xiu stared in silence for a few seconds, then looked at the half-headed girl.

“Don’t worry. Memory loss doesn’t mean everything is gone,” he said gently.

“A thirty-year-old who loses her memory doesn’t become a three-year-old. Some things bypass memory and sink deep into your bones.”

The “Hu Die” who had spoken with him, the version that fought to survive in the dream—that persona did die in a sense. But her “perspective” wouldn’t simply vanish.

Sure enough, when she heard those words, a trace of sadness that was far too old for a young girl flickered in Meng Xiaomeng’s eyes. But the sadness was quickly drowned by deeper confusion, and her expression grew more lost.

After all its complaining, the paper figure finally remembered its real job.

Dian’er reluctantly said, “Alright, pick your anomaly skill. Even if the Immortal E is broken, the ritual is complete. You can—”

“Heaven-Breaking,” Fang Xiu said decisively.

Paper figure: “…Come again?”

“Zhuang Pengdao used it in front of me. It counts as an ‘anomaly’.”

“I can’t use spellcraft, but if you package it as an anomaly skill, I should be able to use it.”

Dian’er opened and closed its mouth, at a loss for words.

The Heaven-Breaking Technique was strongest spell a human could wield. A true celestial technique, in a completely different league from ordinary mortal spells.

The problem was that this spell was basically divine history’s dark stain.

A thousand years ago, chaos spread across the land.

The immortals wrote divine spells on heavenly silkworm silk and showed them to the gifted Taoist Zhuang Guiqu. They chose him to represent the human world and work alongside the Underworld to restore peace.

Celestial spells were naturally wondrous. Zhuang Guiqu was allowed to read the Heavenly Scroll and learn the techniques. But as a mere mortal, he couldn’t pass them down verbally. Once the scroll was reclaimed, humanity would lose access forever.

Most Taoists respected the Heavenly Order. But Zhuang Guiqu was different. Using a needle as a pen and silk as parchment, he tattooed the divine symbols onto his body. After the scroll was taken back, he founded a sect and displayed the “Heavenly Book on Flesh” to his disciples and his power grew rapidly.

To prevent disaster, the immortals had to negotiate.

Eventually, they removed the tattoos from Zhuang Guiqu’s body. In exchange, he was granted a weakened, verbally transmissible version: Heaven-Breaking Technique.

Even weakened, it was still terrifying.

If properly prepared, the Heaven-Breaking Technique could sever even divine power. To limit its use, it required multiple casters, hours of complex rituals, and a fixed location.

…And now Fang Xiu wanted the Underworld to turn it into a skill, a solo-use, portable version.

Seriously, every time it was something outrageous.

Dian’er was about to cry. How could anyone be this cunning?

But Fang Xiu’s request had no flaws. The spell had been sealed after the ritual. No Heavenly Scrolls were involved. He couldn’t become a second Zhuang Guiqu. There was no reason to refuse.

The paper figure wanted to cry but had no tears. “’A Single Thread to Sever Heaven’. Alright, you can sever any human spell within one step of yourself.”

“We do need to emphasize the limits, though. If you insist…”

“I do,” Fang Xiu cut in.

“The Yellow Millet E has been resolved… Everything else you already know, so I won’t repeat…”

A “Qian trigram” sank into Fang Xiu’s pale skin and disappeared.

He touched the spot where the symbol had disappeared with little emotion on his face. As expected, the Underworld had built in conditions to such a powerful spell.

And sure enough, it followed the usual “sacrifice infighting” model. The Underworld only cared about preventing deaths caused by fellow humans, so he could focus on breaking E’s.

…Which suited him just fine.

His fingers slid gently across his skin. Six trigrams lit up in turn, then dimmed quickly. Of them, the “Qian trigram” burned the most. He could vaguely feel the unique power of the Immortal E.

Six powers, five E’s resolved by his own hand. As ritual rewards go, not bad.

Now, there was one more matter to take care of…

Fang Xiu skipped breakfast, grabbed Bai Shuangying, who was still twisting his head away like an owl, and dragged him straight into the room.

As soon as they entered, Fang Xiu shut the door and leaned against it, giving Bai Shuangying a long, meaningful look.

Bai Shuangying put on his best “I’m innocent” face. “I cleaned up your mess. Your team’s intact. Meng Xiaomeng’s alive.”

Fang Xiu raised his brows. “Hm,” he said slowly, his tone rising at the end.

“I was just sooo careless. How could the Immortal E just break?”

“I meant to use the Immortal E to bargain something big with the Underworld, but haa, I guess I wasn’t meant to be…”

Bai Shuangying: “Mm.”

“But I distinctly remember holding onto it very tightly.”

Fang Xiu leaned against the door tightly, with just the right amount of doubt in his expression. “And I remember how light it was. The moment you first lifted my shirt—I woke up.”

Bai Shuangying: “…”

“I just kept my eyes closed afterward. Someone was fumbling with my hands…”

Sensing danger, Bai Shuangying quickly pulled a small porcelain fragment from his sleeve—a rounded, gleaming shard: the head of the porcelain child’s skull.

“I kept a souvenir.” He held the porcelain piece and offering it up with both hands.

Fang Xiu accepted it with a smile and solemnly placed it on the altar. It now served as a dish to hold the Huanxi World chips, which made it look quite proper.

“Want to play truth or dare?” Fang Xiu smiled. “Otherwise if I interrogate you like this, it feels like a courtroom.”

“I imagine you have questions for me too.”


The author has something to say:

How could our young lovers skip such a perfect game (?


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

Help Ch100

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 100: The Game of Gods

Drip.

A bead of blood hit the floor and vanished.

Along with it, all the whiteness disappeared. Everything sank into darkness, and countless colors reemerged from the shadows.

Meng Xiaomeng opened her eyes and saw the ceiling lamp of the cheap motel. The air was filled with a metallic, unplaceable stench, and her headache worsened.

…Was that just now another dream? Or a hallucination?

Her stomach spasmed. She rolled over and vomited at the edge of the bed. But after days of unconsciousness, only sour bile came up. Her chapped lips cracked from the motion, adding the taste of blood and a sharp sting.

She had awoken from the dream, she realized, belatedly.

As her blurry vision refocused, she saw there was no four heads on the table—only two, belonging to unfamiliar men. Blood dripped steadily from the wounds, nearly forming continuous red lines.

Beside the heads lay a pile of strange, glowing objects.

They resembled white orbs of light, streaked with odd black mist. The mass pulsated like internal organs looking viscerally familiar.

A goth girl lay next to a heap of wigs. Two insect-like, hunched figures crouched in the corner. A man and woman struggled on the floor in a chaotic scuffle. At the center of it all stood a man in white, silently watching her.

In his arms wasn’t the gray tabby cat from before, but a slender young man in red. The man in red curled up slightly, his cheek pressed against the chest of the man in white.

Meng Xiaomeng: “…”

The scene was surreal. Was she really awake?

But the moment she saw the man in red, a wave of tension and dread swept down her back. Her strength gave out and she collapsed back onto the bed.

Just before her vision faded again, she saw them—huge butterflies fluttering around the bed. But instead of insect bodies, their wings were attached to human heads.

They perched on the corners of the bed, the nightstand, the ceiling. Vivid wings folded tight, and bloodshot eyes locked onto her.

She tried to look closer, but they vanished. Her stomach convulsed again, the nausea lingering.

Before she lost consciousness, she struggled to look once more at the man in red. That color seemed to have a strange pull.

So strange. The rest of the dream matched reality fairly closely, except that one person… why was that person a cat?

Wait.

In the dream, she had instinctively assumed the “gray tabby” was… what, again?

…Was that thing really a cat?

……

Bai Shuangying had lost interest in Meng Xiaomeng.

Her soul was severely damaged and irreparable.

Just as the scent of blood from a wound attracts predators, she would easily draw evil spirits. And now, with her metaphysical aptitude completely destroyed, if she wanted to live decently, she’d need to rely on talismans and divine rituals or join the Underworld.

…Well, that wasn’t his concern.

He’d spared her life and even left her with a clear mind.

Bai Shuangying considered himself the most reasonable evil spirit in the world. As he quietly praised his own fairness, he turned to the table of souls to finish his work.

He mashed the souls of Zhuang Pengdao’s two disciples together with one hand, compressing them into flat disks.

Meng Xiaomeng’s twisted, corrupted soul he chopped into fine filling with a spell. It still contained fragments of the “high school Meng Xiaomeng” and “white-collar Hu Die”, a richly layered flavor.

Cradling Fang Xiu with one arm, Bai Shuangying split open the soul patties and filled them with the minced mixture. Soon, two freshly made soul-filled “burgers” were ready.

Amid the drifting karmic threads, he took a bite and sighed.

After tasting Fang Xiu’s soul, everything else failed to excite him.

Eating these now was nothing more than changing flavors.

If Fang Xiu’s soul was dragon liver and phoenix marrow, then these souls could be regarded as junk food; novel at first but sickening after a few bites.

He glanced down at Fang Xiu’s slightly parted lips. Imagining the taste of his soul again, he finished the burgers with disinterest.

Full and content, Bai Shuangying yawned.

Jiao Jiao and Yan Yan, thinking Fang Xiu had destroyed the Immortal E, slept soundly. The two in the corner were safe for now. Zhuang Pengdao and Mei Lan…

…Wait, why were Zhuang Pengdao and Mei Lan still fighting?

Zhuang Pengdao’s neck was covered in yellow protective charms. His hands trembled as he held talismans. Mei Lan’s scarf shimmered with blue light, and her body was covered in wounds.

Both were at their physical limit. Since the bodies weren’t their own, they fought recklessly. Zhuang Pengdao’s spellcasting was stronger, but Mei Lan had struck first, and that scarf of hers carried an unusual aura…

“This was a weapon gifted by my father…” Zhuang Pengdao growled, glaring at her with bloodshot eyes. “If I die, neither the Underworld nor the living world will let it slide…”

“Your dad probably has hundreds of kids,” Mei Lan said hoarsely. Her face was gaunt, hair disheveled. She looked more like a ghost than a human.

“…You’re not Cen Ling. If you die, Zhuang Chongyue won’t care.”

At the name “Cen Ling”, Zhuang Pengdao’s teeth ground audibly. His face turned a mottled purple-red, his eyes full of fear and loathing.

Seeing that familiar look, Bai Shuangying twitched a finger.

Ah, right.

To him, this room was a little world of its own.

There was the human he liked. The humans he didn’t care about. And… those who stirred his hatred.

His eyes shifted.

Zhuang Pengdao and Mei Lan’s karmic threads writhed violently, entangling wildly in the air. Bai Shuangying reached out and casually plucked a few.

He wasn’t yet back to his full power, able to toy with karma freely, but…

A flick of his fingers joined two of their threads. The moment they connected, both froze like insects trapped in amber.

Even the blood dripping from Mei Lan’s chin stopped midair, suspended and gleaming in the dim light.

How long had it been since he’d felt this?

Before, he had to work hard to pick up the relevant karma when he tried glimpsing at Fang Xiu’s memories. But now, he seemed to have returned to when he was a thousand years ago, when humans were as malleable as clay.

He only needed…

Bai Shuangying extended his index finger and tapped Zhuang Pengdao on the brow.

Zhuang Pengdao gurgled. His expression shifted, from ferocity to confusion, then panic. He stared at Mei Lan.

From the bonded karma, their threads twisted into a tangled ball of yarn. Zhuang Pengdao’s eyes rolled back, leaving only white.

“I am… I’m… Mei Lan…”

He murmured, “I’m Zhuang Pengdao… I’m… Mei Lan?”

Drip.

Bai Shuangying withdrew his finger. The blood drop under Mei Lan’s chin landed on Zhuang Pengdao’s skin.

Mei Lan sensed something wrong. She gasped like a beast, her back arching in tension.

“I’m Mei Lan? I’m Zhuang Pengdao? I’m Mei Lan?” Zhuang Pengdao spoke in a chilling, Mei Lan-like tone. “I remember… I remember…”

His hands reached for the scarf around his neck. “My scarf… My scarf… Zhuang Chongyue tricked my dad for it, then gave it to me…”

“He stole my dad’s antique shop… My mom’s artifact… stole from me… stole from me…”

As he spoke, he began to cry.

“Shut up,” Mei Lan rasped, trembling.

She had no idea what was happening. But Zhuang Pengdao’s expression and gaze were terrifyingly familiar, as if she were looking at herself.

It was as horrifying as seeing your reflection in a mirror start moving on its own. A chill ran down her spine.

Rip.

Zhuang Pengdao tore at the protective charms on his neck, letting the scarf constrict.

“I realized too late…”

He spoke dully. “I envy Meng Xiaomeng…”

Rip. Rip.

His eyes were still rolled back, tears streaming down.

“She could wake from her nightmare. Mine is the nightmare…”

Rip. Rip. Rip.

“Lucky her. She got to be two people…”

He shredded the last talisman, a strangely soft smile spreading across his face.

“I don’t have to hold on anymore. I can die in peace. That’s wonderful…”

He stopped resisting. The scarf tightened suddenly. With a click, his neck broke halfway through, and blood sprayed from his carotid artery, staining half the room.

The spray of blood looked like butterfly wings.

Mei Lan trembled. She was sitting atop Zhuang Pengdao’s corpse, seemingly unaware he was dead. She instinctively covered her ears, shaking her head, murmuring, “Shut up, shut up…”

As she whispered, the scarf kept tightening. Zhuang Pengdao’s neck twisted further, yet the scarf remained clean.

Instead, Mei Lan’s hands were torn bloody. Her breathing came in ragged gasps, leaving dark smears on the filthy floor.

Bai Shuangying hugged the human in his arms, a smile finally curling his lips.

…How amusing. It reminded him of happier times.

If not for the Underworld eventually sending someone to inspect the scene, he could have made it even more interesting. But Fang Xiu was smart. He’d understand.

“Long ago, I could make hundreds of humans believe they were the same person.”

He had twisted their karmic threads into one.

They clawed at each other, screamed, searched for a nonexistent self, like frenzied bees.

“…Or made them believe they were a blade of grass. A fly. A rock.”

He’d balled up their karmic threads into a chaotic tangle.

They buried their heads in the dirt, licked rotten corpses, or gleefully flung themselves off cliffs like real stones, shattering on impact.

Back then, he didn’t even need to lift a finger. Just a passing thought.

“You want to understand me. You want to see me create an apocalypse.”

Bai Shuangying tilted his head, his face close to Fang Xiu’s ear. “Well… I’ve done it. Do you like it?”

Fang Xiu didn’t answer. He slept soundly.

Bai Shuangying looked a little disappointed. He pressed down on Fang Xiu’s lower lip but decided not to wake him.

…Fine. Since Mei Lan survived, Fang Xiu would find out sooner or later.

Now, only one task remained…

Bai Shuangying lifted the hem of Fang Xiu’s T-shirt and gazed at the small porcelain pillow. Fang Xiu’s hand gently rested on it, pressing it against his belly.

Meng Xiaomeng wasn’t a practitioner, much less the pillow’s rightful owner. In her hands, the Immortal E barely functioned. But if it fell into the Underworld’s hands…

Just its “dream at night, come true by day” ability could cause endless trouble.

Fang Xiu had retrieved it, but not for personal use. Maybe his human wanted to negotiate with the Underworld… but…

“I’ll make it up to you,” Bai Shuangying said softly.

He took Fang Xiu’s hand and, using it, gently nudged the porcelain pillow.

Crash!

The pillow slipped from the bed and shattered against the floor. The porcelain child’s skull cracked open, its head flying across the room.

The ritual was over.


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

Help Ch99

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 99: The Shadow of Karma

Meng Xiaomeng’s living soul trembled violently.

In a daze, she found herself sitting before an antique vanity with three mirrors arranged around it.

Directly across from the vanity stood an enormous, decaying canopy bed. At the deepest end of the bed flickered a single candle. In the center lay a child-shaped porcelain pillow, placed on crimson sheets. The air was thick with an overpowering scent of incense.

The three mirrors reflected three faces:

A vocational school version of herself, with permed hair and a defiant expression; a high school student in uniform, hair sleek and neat; and a mature-looking “Hu Die” with softly curled hair.

Their arms reached out from the brassy mirrors and clutched at her flesh, shouting unintelligible words.

Meng Xiaomeng’s head throbbed.

She remembered standing in her cramped, broken-down home, staring at crushed carnations as her mother scolded her. She remembered sitting in a well-decorated bedroom, staring at a darkened living room in silence. She remembered leaning in a company break room, looking down at traffic, her ears filled with her boss’s warnings and her teacher’s weary resignation.

…Who was she again?

Maybe the vocational girl was dreaming—dreaming of swapping out her shrill mother for a new “self” to raise herself better. Maybe the high schooler had invented a wild excuse for her mother’s neglect. Or maybe the office worker had cracked under pressure and imagined her daughter as her younger self.

…Either way, she was losing her mind.

The three mirror selves still clung to her, and Meng Xiaomeng covered her face to avoid looking at them. To her shock, she felt nothing. Her face was smooth, blank, and featureless.

She leapt to her feet, throwing off the mirrored phantoms and stumbling backward. The three figures emerged from the mirrors like snails pulled from their shells, their torsos dragging long, wet spinal cords.

Panicking, she looked around wildly. The childlike porcelain pillow on the bed began to move. It clumsily climbed down and walked step by step, speaking in the voice of a strange woman.

“Don’t be scared. These are just hallucinations from the medication.”

“You’re in a hospital now. You’re safe. Just don’t move around too much.”

The voice was sweet and gentle, brimming with reassurance.

Hospital… Hospital… 

Right, she wasn’t in her right mind… It was just the medicine…

With that thought, the canopy bed morphed into a cold white hospital bed.

The three phantoms vanished. Her facial features returned and better yet, now she had three heads and fifteen facial features total.

Everything from ceiling to floor was stark white. She wore white slippers, gazed out at white leaves beyond the window, and even the veins on her wrist were a calming white.

Only the pediatric porcelain pillow on the bed was slightly yellowed. It made her uncomfortable. She kept scrubbing it with her white hospital gown until her skin broke and white blood oozed out.

It has to be cleaned, she thought.

She had to get better. Then she’d remember who she was, and she’d be able to see her mother and daughter again.

“I don’t want to see her! I want to see Ku Yue!” her left head shouted.

“I’m not your mother. You’ll understand when you’re older,” her right head said softly.

Meng Xiaomeng ignored them and kept scrubbing the old porcelain pillow. White blood streamed from her wounds, and the flayed flesh was whiter than lard.

On the neighboring bed, patients were fighting. One was trying to strangle another with gauze, while two muscular nurses pulled madly at the strangler.

Four others lay neatly in the corner like corpses, all in the same white hospital gowns. A small white dog in a nurse’s outfit moved from patient to patient, sniffing their condition.

A broadcast played in a soothing, professional female voice. The tone was perfectly normal, but when she listened closely, she couldn’t understand a word.

Clearly, she was very far gone, Meng Xiaomeng thought. No wonder they placed her in the violent psychiatric ward.

…Creak.

The door to the ward suddenly opened and a doctor, completely dressed in white, entered. His lab coat was long, and in his arms, he cradled a skinny gray tabby cat with a vivid red collar. Its tail hung limp.

The porcelain pillow in her hands shivered as if it feared the newcomer.

No surprise. This doctor had long black hair that stood out against the pristine white room. The red on the sleeping cat was so bright it hurt her eyes.

“You scared my pillow!” she shouted from her bed. “You’re a doctor. How could you bring a pet into a hospital room!”

The little dog nurse gave her a disapproving look.

The doctor’s pale eyes shifted toward her expressionlessly, like a chef inspecting meat on a cutting board. Only then did Meng Xiaomeng notice the vivid red mole below his left eye.

It matched the red collar on the cat and made her eyes sting even more.

In that pain, something warm began leaking from her eyes. She reached up instinctively and found red threads. It was soft and slippery, like blood vessels, but straighter and longer.

They writhed like living things, slipping free no matter how she tried to grab them. They shot out in all directions, two-thirds of them merging into the porcelain pillow, like nerves embedding into flesh.

“You’re just a layman, yet you dare use the Immortal E,” the doctor said with scorn. “He offered his soul in your place, and the spell was forcibly interrupted. This chaotic karma. This is your backlash.”

Meng Xiaomeng tilted her head. “I don’t understand a word you’re saying, but it’s fine. I’m probably just insane.”

“So give me the meds or treat me already. I need to go home. If I’m late, my mom will yell, and I still need to cook dinner for my kid.”

The doctor’s face didn’t flinch. Clearly, he was unmoved by her appeals to family. He simply stroked the cat in his arms. It nestled closer and let out soft purrs.

A few red threads floated near. The doctor caught them with ease.

“At first, I thought he left this mess for me to see if I had ‘humanity’,” he muttered. “But later I realized, my human wouldn’t be so tacky. However I handle you, he won’t care.”

Meng Xiaomeng: “…”

No wonder this was the psych ward. Even the doctors were delusional. Or maybe she was too far gone to understand anything anymore?

“He’s just curious what I’ll do. Just as I’m curious about him.” The doctor raised his eyes and announced with satisfaction, “That makes sense. After all, he said he likes me.”

“Balance must be served. So let heaven decide… I’ll only eat half your soul.”

He glanced at the cat, as if checking for permission. The feline stayed fast asleep, curled up like nothing in the world could bother it.

Meng Xiaomeng: “???”

That couldn’t be good. She clutched the pillow tightly and climbed onto the bed to claim the high ground.

“Keep me!” shouted the right head. “I remember everything. I want to live! When I get out, I want to talk to Mom—keep me!”

“You’re just a figment of my imagination.” The left head giggled. “The police station wasn’t real, and this place isn’t either. I must have swallowed pills. All a hallucination.”

Meng Xiaomeng’s mind spun. Was the doctor the one speaking sensibly… or was her brain just too far gone to tell?

Ignoring the shouting, the doctor walked to the next bed. One arm still cradling the cat, he twisted off the heads of the two muscular nurses like eggs.

The female patient who’d been strangling someone renewed her grip with greater force.

The doctor cracked open the two skulls, extracting pale white souls like a chef preparing ingredients. He set them gently on a tray.

Then he tugged on all the red threads in the room. Meng Xiaomeng felt a soreness like her nerves were being yanked out through her teeth.

“Stop!” her right head cried. “I only fought the Disaster Resolvers to survive! I used to believe in you—you know that! If there’s a peaceful solution, I’m willing to negotiate…”

On the next bed, the woman strangled harder. The man underneath her stabbed her arm repeatedly with something sharp.

“I used to believe in you,” the right head whispered again, seemingly oblivious to the pain. “Take whatever price you want. Even my soul.”

The right head tried to sound calm, but its fear was obvious. “Just don’t erase my memories. I’m more useful alive. I understand better…”

“You haven’t changed,” the doctor said flatly. “You chase others’ affection and fall apart when things go wrong. There’s no growth at all.”

“You don’t even know how to love yourself. What do you know about ‘understanding’?”

The right head fell silent.

“I’m not here for justice. I don’t care who’s more useful. I only know, your part tastes best.”

Instinctively, Meng Xiaomeng looked toward the right head. Red threads poured from its eyes, nearly popping them out.

The mature face was filled with terror and sorrow. “I don’t want to die…”

“You won’t,” the doctor said.

A moment later, the threads surged.

Meng Xiaomeng’s right shoulder went cold. Something warm and vital was pulled from her. In that instant, her heart felt hollow.

“This hallucination’s wild,” the left head said cheerfully. “I’ve gone off the deep end. Let’s see what Mom does with this. Bet she loses face…”

Rip.

There was a loud tearing sound. The left head flew off too. It had barely any threads holding it on, and in its final moment, she could see its startled expression.

A chill crept into Meng Xiaomeng. The hollowness inside her was sharp and aching, like missing teeth or a severed wrist.

The doctor held the two heads by their red threads and placed them on the tray. They muttered faintly, but he wasn’t listening.

He turned to her.

“I have remove the fragment of the soul you cut off to serve as ‘mother’, and the soul that was distorted by the dream.”

The doctor touched the cat’s paw and spoke in a tone like a surgeon pleased with a successful tumor removal.

“Now you have two souls left. The E lingers around you and your heart and soul has been damaged. You will never dream again for the rest of your life, and your karmic blood-debt will not disappear… But since I’m the one who intervened, you won’t go crazy.”

She still didn’t understand. Her chest felt hollow, like something crucial was missing. The white ward began to flicker and collapse and her heard started pounding.

She curled her shoulders, fingers twisting. Suddenly, she felt pain.

Ah, right. Before entering the hotel, she’d had her nails done… She’d wanted to greet the new students in her best state… Hotel… new students…

Meng Xiaomeng stared blankly at her beautiful fingernails.

She’d spent so much money on them. Her mom would scold her again. But for some reason, this time, she didn’t mind.

The red threads had vanished without her noticing. This time, tears flowed from her eyes. She wasn’t even sad, but they wouldn’t stop.

She no longer cared about the fight on the next bed or the crumbling hospital. She only felt cold—bone-deep cold.

The man in white frowned as he watched her, then reluctantly added, “Your memories are gone, but the karmic effects remain. Don’t panic.”

“Mom…”

Meng Xiaomeng rubbed at the cut on her finger. A bright red bead of blood slowly oozed out.


The author has something to say:

Master Bai performed the operation, and the disease was miraculously cured (?


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

Help Ch98

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 98: Your Idea

Officer Xiao Zhou sat upright in his office when the entire building suddenly began to tremble. The walls shook like rubber, plaster crumbling and falling in sheets. He stood up in a daze, suddenly remembering there were still people in the reception room.

No, he had to evacuate the civilians.

He stumbled down the shaking floor toward the reception room, his steps lurching like a drunk.

The lights went out. The sky darkened at an unnatural speed. The dim corridor was deserted, and at the reception room doorway stood a goth-dressed woman in an eerie posture.

Her face was caked with heavy makeup. Her back was hunched at an impossibly grotesque angle, shaking her head vigorously at him.

At the same time, the reception room door swung wide open. From the warped doorway spilled countless strands of blood-red hair. That hairy mass kept twitching, producing strange purring noises.

Inside the room, a girl sobbed and a woman screamed, both voices soaked in despair.

Officer Xiao Zhou slowed to a stop. Is this… a dream?

No. No way this is real, right?

In a haze, he shook his head violently. The corridor beneath him cracked with a loud crash. His footing gave way completely, and it felt like he was plunging into a cliffside void.

A second later, his legs kicked against the bedsheet, and he snapped awake, drenched in cold sweat.

The familiar ceiling of his bedroom loomed dimly in the pre-dawn dark. It wasn’t even 5 a.m. yet.

…Just a nightmare. It’s completely chaotic.

…And now, all he could remember were a few fragmented, bizarre images. Within half a minute, even those fragments faded away. All that lingered was the impression that the nightmare had lasted a very long time.

He exhaled and suddenly realized his head felt like it was being twisted. His nerves were taut as if he’d stayed up for several nights straight. Groaning, he slipped out of bed, popped an ibuprofen, and changed the sweat-soaked sheets.

He might be coming down with something. Sighing, he drank some hot water and crawled back under the covers.

…But Meng Xiaomeng had no such luxury of going back to sleep.

As the dream ended, Fang Xiu found himself in a hotel room.

It was a single-occupancy room, cramped and cheaply decorated. Survivors were piled across the carpet in crooked, contorted positions from the dream, especially Yan Yan, who lay flat on the floor in his original form, resembling a serial killer’s custom-made scalp rug. Cheng Songyun and Guan He had nearly fully transformed into human cocoons, silently curled in the corners.

Meng Xiaomeng lay unconscious in the center of the single bed. Her body was emaciated with nothing but skin and bones, clearly severely drained.

The little black dog bounced onto the bed, sniffing around Meng Xiaomeng’s face. Its nose pushed aside her grass-like hair, revealing a sliver of a porcelain pillow beneath.

The pillow was crafted to resemble a child, its head half-exposed from the long hair and fixed in a grin so bright it was unsettling. Though inanimate, it radiated a pressure that was hard to describe.

Before the others could react, Fang Xiu, who already knew the “Immortal E’s” true form, strode forward and seized the porcelain pillow.

It had been warmed by the girl’s body, and in his hands, it felt almost alive. He could nearly sense the power pulsing within.

It all happened within seconds.

Zhuang Pengdao stood up fluidly and reached toward Fang Xiu, magic charging in his palm.

Mei Lan, standing close by, twisted her body and slammed into Zhuang Pengdao’s arm. The spell veered wildly. Taking advantage of the moment, she ripped off her scarf and looped it around his neck.

Before Jiao Jiao could even get to her feet, she smashed a bottle of magic potion on the spot, concealing herself and Yan Yan in smoke. Fang Xiu, meanwhile, gripped the porcelain pillow tightly and smashed it against the corner of the table.

Zhuang Pengdao ignored the scarf tightening on his neck and struggled to shout, “Sto—”

Crash.

The porcelain child’s head cracked open. Shards clattered to the ground.

That was an Immortal E, a god-tier artifact!

As Disaster Resolvers for the Underworld, their primary mission was to recover it, not destroy it. Even if it wasn’t returned, selling it on the black market could easily fetch an eight- or nine-digit sum.

Zhuang Pengdao had assumed Fang Xiu shared his goal of obtaining the artifact and had even prepared to negotiate. Who would’ve thought the man would do something so reckless, sabotaging everyone’s interests?

Furious, Zhuang Pengdao couldn’t even swear. Mei Lan’s scarf was wound so tightly he couldn’t spare a hand.

His two disciples staggered up and charged Mei Lan. Her body ignited in flames, yet she seemed immune to the pain. She simply sneered and doused the fire with her personal canteen of spiritual dew.

The disciples quickly changed tactics, switching to punches and kicks.

Mei Lan’s body was charred and blackened. Her eyes were bloodshot, yet her gaze stayed fixed on Zhuang Pengdao, who was still wrestling with the scarf choking him. His flushed face proved that scarf was no ordinary fabric.

What a mess, Bai Shuangying thought with waning interest.

By now, he understood Fang Xiu’s strategy.

Fang Xiu knew Zhuang Pengdao intended to trap Hu Die. So he lured Hu Die to the police station, seizing the initiative from Zhuang Pengdao.

Then he summoned Meng Xiaomeng to the station as well, disrupting Hu Die’s performance and drawing in the still-rational Jiao Jiao and Yan Yan as muscle. The mutated Cheng Songyun and Guan He were far from the chaos and completely safe.

At last, his human self deliberately stalled with idle talk and subtly provoked Zhuang Pengdao.

Zhuang Pengdao saw that Fang Xiu, a “normal human”, had withstood the loop-induced mutation. Uncertain of Fang Xiu’s strength, he made the logical choice and hurriedly re-cast his Heaven-Breaking spell nearby to sabotage Fang Xiu’s unknown plan.

In the end, Zhuang Pengdao and the Jiao-Yan duo had all been used as tools by Fang Xiu to drive Hu Die—no, Meng Xiaomeng—into a corner. And the entire time, Fang Xiu had never explained any of his “plan” to anyone. He just smiled and fed them a few lies.

Compared to his human, the people now grappling on the floor were utterly uninteresting. He disliked this kind of ending. What he wanted was…

Suddenly, Fang Xiu grabbed his hand. His palm was even warmer than before. Bloodshot eyes stared at him, their light flickering like a candle in a storm.

Fang Xiu mouthed something to Bai Shuangying, then collapsed into his arms like a sandcastle caving in.

He was asleep.

Bai Shuangying: “???”

Well, timing-wise, it made sense. Fang Xiu’s brain had been working non-stop. Any more and his body might have just dropped dead.

Bai Shuangying dragged him into hiding and casually picked him up.

Fang Xiu’s head pressed firmly against his chest, his sleep deeper than death. Just like that, he had left behind a chaotic conclusion, like an unfinished story.

When the paper figure arrived, Meng Xiaomeng would lose her mind. Zhuang Pengdao and Mei Lan’s fates would be left to fate. Jiao Jiao, Yan Yan, Cheng Songyun, and Guan He would probably be fine… Wait.

When Fang Xiu smashed the Immortal E, Bai Shuangying had felt the pulse of a strange spell. And Fang Xiu had an odd aura about him. Something didn’t add up.

Bai Shuangying jostled the human in his arms. Fang Xiu’s arm slipped from his belly, revealing an unusual bulge around the waist. Bai Shuangying slipped a hand under his shirt and felt the warm porcelain of the artifact.

Bai Shuangying: “…”

Even before fainting, this guy still managed to pull a fast one on everyone.

A Disaster Resolver could contact the paper men at will. But since everyone thought Fang Xiu had “destroyed” the artifact, they assumed the paper figures would come on their own. No one had called them directly.

Which meant, ultimately, the ending to this mess was now in his hands, right?

Bai Shuangying tucked the porcelain pillow back into Fang Xiu’s curled-up belly and carefully covered it with the red T-shirt. Fang Xiu made a soft “mm” and burrowed deeper into Bai Shuangying’s chest.

“You really passed out or are you manipulating me too?”

Bai Shuangying lowered his gaze. “Leaving the ending to me… Aren’t you afraid I’ll just walk away, or start slaughtering indiscriminately?”

Fang Xiu didn’t answer. He was completely out, his long, steady breaths brushing against Bai Shuangying’s chest like a tickle.

Bai Shuangying had nothing more to say.

Sure, he could just walk away. But… well, Cheng Songyun and Guan He were still useful to Fang Xiu, so they were worth saving.

Yan Yan and Jiao Jiao had proven effective muscle. Fang Xiu might need them again, so they were worth saving.

Mei Lan might be a defector from the Guishan Sect. Bai Shuangying didn’t care about her backstory, but her survival would benefit Fang Xiu, so she was worth saving.

…Wait. Why was he always thinking in terms of his human? That was a bad habit.

Better to look at it this way: Fang Xiu’s survival benefitted him. And Zhuang Pengdao had dared cast the Heaven-Breaking Technique in front of him. That was unforgivable.

Bai Shuangying tapped his fingers one by one as if he was counting vegetables and not tallying lives. But as he reached the end, he realized he’d missed someone.

Meng Xiaomeng.

A foolish young human who, in a moment of impulse, had created a huge mess. Now still unconscious, her mind would unravel the moment it began working again. The contradictions in her memory would drive her mad.

And whether she lived or died had nothing to do with Fang Xiu—no, with either of them.

Should he help? Or not?

Bai Shuangying strained to think. In the past, he’d have let her be. But now, he suspected Fang Xiu had chosen to knock her out instead of killing her for a reason.

He thought for a few seconds, holding the sleeping Fang Xiu aloft, and watched the chaos below. After a moment, a faint smile touched his lips.

Fang Xiu had manipulated everyone’s hearts beautifully, escaped danger, and then handed the ending off to him. If he wrapped up this story clumsily, wouldn’t that be embarrassing?

Just a few minutes—let him have a bit of fun.

Bai Shuangying’s hair lifted slightly. His unblinking eyes scanned the crowd. Invisible strands of karma floated from everyone, their shadows flickering in his blank pupils.

Those threads shifted like drifting water plants, sometimes sharp, sometimes blurry. The world slowed to a crawl. Everything seemed frozen, except the little black dog, still hopping at Bai Shuangying’s feet, trying to paw at his toes.

His gaze moved, settling on the most tangled, chaotic cluster of karma. Meng Xiaomeng was unconscious on the bed, utterly unaware of the disaster looming over her.

“…Let’s start with you.”


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Help Ch97

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 97: Chess Pieces

Meng Xiaomeng walked into the police station with a paper bag of fast food. Her eyes were still red.

She had just had a falling-out with a close friend today, and even bombed her best subject, math. Her emotions were still spiraling, and now her mom had the nerve to send her to the police station to deliver food.

Usually, it was her mom who picked her up; this time the roles were reversed.

Since her mom could still call, it couldn’t be anything too serious. While ranting to Ku Yue about having to deliver food “in the middle of the night”, she stepped grumpily into the reception room.

Meng Xiaomeng tossed the paper bag onto the table and picked the most isolated chair to sit in, radiating pure “I’m in a bad mood” energy. But Fang Xiu’s striking appearance caught her attention, and she couldn’t help sneaking a few glances, wondering why her mother was meeting with a man in red.

…A secret love child? No, he looked too old, and frankly, better-looking than her mom.

…Could he be her long-lost dad? Also unlikely. He didn’t seem quite that old.

She fired off guesses to Ku Yue as her fingers flew across the screen. Before she could send her next emoji, Hu Die walked over and yanked the phone out of her hands.

Meng Xiaomeng glared at her mother in annoyance.

“Sit.” Hu Die pointed to the seat beside her.

Meng Xiaomeng opened her mouth but ultimately said nothing. She sat beside her mother in silence, not wanting to throw a tantrum in front of Fang Xiu.

“I don’t think I’ve had a proper conversation with you in a long time.”

Hu Die stared at the tea leaves swirling in her cup. “Rough day? Your eyes are all red.”

“It’s nothing,” Meng Xiaomeng replied stiffly.

Hu Die was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “I want to talk.”

“Yeah sure, let’s have a heart-to-heart in front of a total stranger. Super comfortable,” Meng Xiaomeng said with biting sarcasm. “Is it illegal to talk at home?”

Hu Die ignored the sharpness, as she often did. “I want to talk about my own mother.”

A strange setting, strange company, and now a strange topic. Meng Xiaomeng dropped the sarcasm and visibly tensed. She had never been curious about Hu Die’s childhood, and Hu Die had never offered anything.

Something must have happened with her grandmother. Meng Xiaomeng sat up a little straighter.

Hu Die repeated what she’d told Fang Xiu, calmly and evenly. She left out all mention of the Yellow Millet E and added a few personal reflections.

“She wasn’t a perfect mother. Honestly, it’s hard to even call her a ‘good’ one.” Hu Die continued, “But I think she did love me.”

Looking back now, in that cramped old apartment, her mother had still prepared a room just for her.

The clothes might not have been stylish, but they were always new and comfortable. The meals were plain, but there was never a lack of meat, eggs, or milk. Her books and stationery were just as good as anyone else’s, and school fees were always paid on time.

The money from her father couldn’t even come close to covering their expenses.

So her mother took on hard labor jobs outside, scavenged cardboard on the side, and still did all the housework…just to make sure she could study in peace.

But at the same time, her mother had a foul mouth and a nasty temper. She had zero talent for emotional support and failed every metric when it came to nurturing a child’s mental health.

As a kid, she’d grown too used to the sacrifices, without having the capacity to understand the rest.

That wasn’t the child’s fault, but…

“Now I think, being a ‘parent’ is a lot like being a ‘student’.” Hu Die spoke slowly. “Some students are top of the class achieving good grades and have excellent behavior. Others are better at some subjects than others. Some don’t want to study at all, and some work hard but still can’t get it right.”

“It’s the same with character. For every awkward bookworm, there’s a social butterfly. For every kindhearted one, there’s someone who’s inexplicably cruel. And the worst part? Grades and personality don’t always match up.”

Meng Xiaomeng frowned. “So what’s your point?”

Hu Die gazed into space. “The tension between me and my mom… we both believed the other should be a ‘perfect student’, thought that with a little effort, everything could be fixed.”

“There are always kids who are model students, and others who are just mean for no reason. But most people? They’re just ordinary.”

Meng Xiaomeng stiffened. “Got it. You’re just making excuses for yourself.”

“I didn’t want you to grow up in shabby clothes, packed into a dingy house like I did. So I found a better-paying job, bought a better home, and took on a mortgage.”

Hu Die’s voice remained even.

“You’re saying I’m a burden. I never asked to be born,” Meng Xiaomeng muttered.

Hu Die looked at her in silence.

She knew the girl wouldn’t understand. To give her daughter a better life, she couldn’t risk being unemployed. She worked herself to the bone and didn’t dare complain.

She drained herself during the day, then came home to cook and help with homework. There were no holidays, no breaks. She had to manage her emotions around the clock.

In all those years trying to raise Meng Xiaomeng right, she hadn’t even had time to see a movie alone, let alone take a trip.

But if she said any of this aloud, it would just sound like whining to a child.

Love isn’t a default label that should be taken for granted. It takes real, constant effort.

…She had simply figured this out too late.

“I’ve just accepted reality. My mom and I—we’re both just ordinary people,” Hu Die said. “Whether I was a child or an adult. Whether it’s you.”

“Mom, can you just say what you mean? You’re seriously creeping me out.”

Meng Xiaomeng had tuned out most of the “nagging”. She looked at Hu Die with half-understanding eyes, just trying to find her own answers.

Bai Shuangying also looked at Fang Xiu with a similar half-understanding expression.

It was Fang Xiu who had suggested bringing Meng Xiaomeng here, so Hu Die could say what she needed to before the dream ended.

It had seemed like a very human idea and Hu Die had readily agreed.

But Meng Xiaomeng was still sixteen. A few heartfelt words couldn’t change her entire perspective. And Hu Die, after watching Meng Xiaomeng die horribly so many times, was unlikely to suddenly fall in love with “herself”.

To Bai Shuangying, this conversation felt more like a display. A performance, meant for Fang Xiu.

“Now you see.”

As expected, Hu Die turned to Fang Xiu in the next moment. “This is the core issue. We’ve become completely different people.”

“If we don’t deal with the overlapping memories, once the dream ends, Meng Xiaomeng will just turn into a split-personality lunatic. I don’t know how you plan to ‘save me’, but you’d better explain—”

“Mom, what are you talking about?!”

Fang Xiu glanced at the clock on the wall. He didn’t answer right away.

But Bai Shuangying suddenly sensed something wrong. He turned toward the darkened window, brow furrowing in alarm.

He could feel the presence of a spell, one he hated the most.

Someone was casting a Heaven-Breaking spell around the police station.

Bai Shuangying scooped up the little black dog with one hand and grabbed Fang Xiu with the other, pulling them both back to a safe zone. The next moment, all remaining lights outside went out. Conversations in the hallway fell dead. A dreadful silence took over.

Meng Xiaomeng gasped in fright. Hu Die stood up abruptly and glared at Fang Xiu. “You set me up!”

She seemed convinced Fang Xiu was in on it. One person to stall her, the other to cast the spell.

Fang Xiu only smiled and said nothing.

Hu Die clenched her jaw. She could feel the dream spiraling out of control.

The reception room’s windows began to melt like butter. The furniture warped into bizarre shapes like abstract art. Meng Xiaomeng shrieked and clung to her mother’s waist in panic.

Hu Die’s connection to the dream was rapidly weakening. Even if she killed herself now, it would be hard to restart the loop.

And to think she had actually believed Fang Xiu was reasonable. His so-called negotiation, his rescue mission, it was all fake. He’d only lowered her guard, even dragging Meng Xiaomeng here as a distraction.

What a vicious plan.

Hu Die tried to push away her crying daughter but didn’t dare hurt her. She was afraid that if Meng Xiaomeng was gravely wounded, the dream would end prematurely. Eyes bloodshot, she glared at Fang Xiu, magic gathering in her hand once more.

“I just wanted to live.”

Her voice tore through the silence. “I only wanted to live well here! I didn’t invite you into this dream! Who do you think you are, judging me? You—”

“Jiao Jiao, Yan Yan. Knock her out!”

Fang Xiu ignored her completely and raised his voice. The two spirit shrimp flinched from the shock, but reacted surprisingly fast.

Jiao Jiao lit a bundle of herbs with trembling hands and smeared something on Yan Yan. In an instant, Yan Yan reverted to his true form, growing to the size of a tiger.

He barreled through the doorway like a sledgehammer, aiming straight for Hu Die. She scrambled to dodge, terrified Meng Xiaomeng would be killed in the chaos.

“Shameless!”

Hu Die cursed as Meng Xiaomeng screamed.

Fang Xiu casually brushed Bai Shuangying’s sleeve. Wearing a ring, he pointed toward Yan Yan. The red fox vanished into thin air without a trace.

Then he patted the black dog. It too disappeared from sight.

“Go play with her.”

The little dog wagged its tail and bounded off after Hu Die, who was trying to flee.

She tripped within two steps. Yan Yan struck, cracking the defensive barrier around her and leaving visible fractures.

The world was dimming as though someone were slowly turning down the lights. Invisible creatures twisted through the dark. Hu Die had to defend herself. She had no energy left to fight whoever cast the spell.

“What is this?!” Meng Xiaomeng whimpered. “Mom… Mom…”

But Hu Die couldn’t answer.

As she dodged and ducked, she held Meng Xiaomeng tightly in her arms, glaring at Fang Xiu like he was the source of all evil.

Just as the darkness was about to swallow everything, Fang Xiu gave a slight bow and slowly faded from view. His red clothes dimmed and disappeared, like a pool of blood evaporating.

In that moment of stunned silence, Hu Die felt a sickening sensation against the back of her head, like hair brushing her neck, and then the blunt force of something heavy, like a bat.

As Meng Xiaomeng’s cries filled the air, Hu Die’s consciousness began to fade.

Why?

Fang Xiu hadn’t used any communication spell…

He had never coordinated with another team…

How had they managed this, and when had they even planned it?

She didn’t understand.

She didn’t want to die.

“…Mom…” she whispered, instinctively.


Kinky Thoughts:

Damn, I didn’t expect this chapter, or rather this arc, to be so insightful and relatable. Teenager me definitely held resentment for my parents, despite their sacrifices, and adult me now understands the full scope of it. Though to be fair, they did lack the emotional and mental support for teenager me, but, no one can be perfect. They did their best.

As they say, there are just some things you can’t understand without the wisdom that comes with age.


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