On the seventh day, the dead return.
When the day arrived, Jiang Luo found himself calmer than he’d imagined.
Could he still stop Chi You from growing stronger?
Jiang Luo didn’t believe he was any less capable than Chi You. The original body may have lacked talent, but he had it—and extraordinary talent at that. More importantly, he had found a means of self-protection before Chi You’s seventh day.
He walked over to his wardrobe, let his fingers pass over the brightly colored clothes, and settled on something black.
Jiang Luo courteously changed into black clothes and pants, tied up his shoulder-length hair with a hair tie, letting two strands fall messily at the sides of his face.
He looked anything but nervous. On the contrary, he seemed vaguely eager.
And he was.
If Jiang Luo didn’t like thrill and terror, he wouldn’t have sought out the novel Devil in the first place, and certainly wouldn’t have fallen for Chi You’s character.
He remembered clearly the eighteen times Chi You had killed him.
A gentleman takes revenge without delay. Jiang Luo was itching for it now.
He couldn’t wait to kill Chi You—and he knew Chi You was just as eager to kill him.
Hair tied, he lifted his gaze to the mirror. The young man staring back had sparks in his eyes, burning and radiant.
In the original novel, Chi You’s soul was supposed to be weak after death, so weak that during the summoning on the seventh day, he couldn’t even appear. But after their recent confrontations, Jiang Luo sensed something was off.
Chi You was weak—but not that weak.
He could manipulate the souls of the dead, even the living—albeit small creatures like birds—which already proved he wasn’t as the novel described.
What did that mean?
It meant that in Devil, early on, Chi You was likely pretending to be weak.
He already had the strength to exact revenge on the original body, but he pretended he didn’t. Not only that—he used his resentment to attract the number one Daoist master in the story, Feng Li, and got Feng Li to help him cultivate and seek revenge.
Why?
Jiang Luo frowned.
The original body was a member of the Feng family—one of the six major sects, aligned with the Heavenly Master lineage. Feng Li was the current number one Heavenly Master. In the original’s memory, just hearing Feng Li’s name filled him with fear.
The original dared to envy Chi You and be cruel to him only because he was deceived by Chi You’s false kindness.
But Feng Li? The original didn’t even dare get close to him.
Feng Li’s talent might not match Chi You’s, but he was also a genius. If Chi You really lured Feng Li in intentionally, then what exactly was he planning?
Lost in thought, Jiang Luo came downstairs and happened to run into the others.
Today was Chi You’s seventh day. The group planned to report to the school after class and then go off-campus to pay their respects.
After school, Jiang Luo had all his things ready and followed them out. But along the way, they ended up in a funeral supply store.
In addition to items for the dead, the store also sold yellow talisman paper, cinnabar, and compasses. Wenren Lian, dressed in a black dress, led the way with a cheerful smile, “Pick what you need quickly—we better get there before dark.”
Lu Youyi and the others scattered to browse. Jiang Luo glanced at the funeral wreaths and paper houses near the roadside, then looked toward the front counter.
There, a middle-aged man sat on a rocking chair with his eyes closed, thumbing through prayer beads. He didn’t even open his eyes when someone entered.
“Look around, buy whatever…” the shopkeeper called out lazily, “If you touch it, you buy it. Break it, pay ten times the price.”
“This is the place I told you about where you can get good materials,” Wenren Lian said with a smile as he walked up to Jiang Luo. “We’re missing a lot of things. Once we’ve stocked up, we’ll head to the graveyard. See if there’s anything you want.”
Jiang Luo nodded. He’d been thinking that talismans alone weren’t enough.
He slowly wandered through the shop. It wasn’t large—just around thirty square meters on the ground floor. Dark wooden shelves were crammed with all sorts of messy odds and ends. On the north wall stood a wooden staircase without a railing, nailed directly to the wall.
Jiang Luo’s eyes scanned across the strange and unfamiliar objects—most of which he didn’t recognize. His professional instincts made him pay extra attention to the corners. When he reached the very back, he spotted a plain wooden box tucked away in an obscure corner.
Good items were usually placed in more visible spots. This one had been buried so deep it was likely the shopkeeper had forgotten about it. Jiang Luo’s curiosity was piqued. He took the box out.
Dust had settled thickly on top. Jiang Luo gave it a blow, sending dust flying everywhere.
After brushing it off, Jiang Luo touched the box a few times and sensed something was off. He placed it on the ground and, intrigued, carefully examined it from all sides.
The texture and feel definitely weren’t that of an ordinary box. Jiang Luo overturned his earlier assumption—someone must’ve noticed the value of this item and hidden it on purpose, afraid someone else might buy it.
His interest grew. He gently opened the box.
Inside was a bracelet.
The bracelet looked aged, with a ring of golden runes carved into its surface. Jiang Luo couldn’t understand the inscriptions. Wrapping the corner of his clothing around it, he picked it up. Slightly surprised—though it looked wooden, it felt as heavy as jade. Its quality was visibly warm and smooth, no worse than fine mutton-fat jade.
Jiang Luo didn’t know what it was for, so he took it to the shopkeeper. “Boss, what is this?”
The shopkeeper opened one eye and let out a surprised “Eh?”, then seemed to perk up a little. “Oh, that’s a Yin-Yang hoop. Kid, you’ve got good luck—that’s a real treasure.”
He held up a hand, wiggling all five fingers. “Fixed price. No bargaining.”
“Yin-Yang hoop?” Jiang Luo asked.
The shopkeeper shut his eyes again. “Yin-Yang hoop. Carved with thirteen golden incantation scripts. Wear it for protection—it wards off evil and prevents possession.”
Jiang Luo’s heart stirred. He put the Yin-Yang hoop on his right wrist. Perfect fit. The bracelet, looking like both wood and jade, glowed with a gentle luster under the dim light. His pale, porcelain-like skin and the bracelet complemented each other harmoniously.
Satisfied, Jiang Luo paid for it. Then he suddenly noticed one of the beads in the beads the shopkeeper was handling looked different.
Among the wooden beads, that one seemed almost transparent, faintly exuding a white, icy mist. Jiang Luo stared at it a little longer. His right eyelid started twitching.
He rubbed his eye and asked, “Boss, can I take a look at your beads?”
The shopkeeper suddenly opened his eyes and gave Jiang Luo a meaningful look. “You want to see my beads?”
Jiang Luo smiled. “Why not?”
The shopkeeper stared at him for a moment, then handed them over. “Sure.”
But before the beads reached Jiang Luo, the string suddenly snapped.
The beads scattered all over the floor.
No one had expected the string to break so suddenly. Hearing the noise, Ye Xun and the others rushed over to help pick them up. But in the end, one bead was missing—the very one Jiang Luo had found unusual.
The shopkeeper looked at the remaining beads with a complicated expression. Jiang Luo couldn’t tell what it meant—was it fear? Or maybe relief?
After a while, the shopkeeper waved them off. “Forget it, forget it. It’s not anything important. Don’t bother looking anymore.”
“Pay up quickly, I’m closing the shop.”
Shops like this never did business after dark. The group hurried to pay, then took a taxi to the graveyard.
Eight people, two cars, arriving in succession at Chi You’s burial site. Chi You was the head of the Chi family, and his grave was located on a prime piece of feng shui land. When they got there, the site was covered with fresh flowers and traces of burned joss paper—clearly, many had paid their respects earlier that day.
Everyone in the group was a professional, and they quickly set up the items for summoning the soul. Ye Xun would handle the ritual.
Jiang Luo stayed on alert, prepared for Chi You’s appearance.
He was protected in the center of the group by Lu Youyi and the others, who feared Chi You might stubbornly refuse to move on and try to take Jiang Luo with him.
But in the end, nothing happened.
Ye Xun opened his eyes with a frown. “I can’t summon Chi You’s spirit.”
Ge Zhu said solemnly, “Let me try.”
But one after another, they all failed. Chi You never showed. Everyone was baffled.
“Could it be… tonight isn’t the seventh day since Chi You’s death?” Lu Youyi asked in confusion.
“No way,” Zhuo Zhongqiu countered. “No mistake—tonight is the seventh day. It’s bizarre… we can’t summon his soul…”
Jiang Luo couldn’t tell whether to feel relieved or more on guard. He frowned at the gravestone under the night sky, quietly lowering his eyes in thought.
To the others, his expression took on a tinge of grief and sorrow. Zhuo Zhongqiu suddenly tossed aside his peachwood sword, lazily pulled out his phone, and said, “Forget it. Let’s go drink—I’ll take you all to a bar.”
Wenren Lian also set down his things, gracefully smoothing out his skirt. “Today is the seventh day after Chi You’s passing. No one’s in great spirits. Drowning our sorrows in alcohol might not be a bad idea.”
Lu Youyi snuck a few glances at Jiang Luo. “Sure, sure.”
Just like that, the group went from the graveyard to a bar. Zhuo Zhongqiu knew how to have fun—she took them to a large bar in the city center, where neon lights dazzled and the place buzzed with people.
The lighting was dim. As soon as they entered, Zhuo Zhongqiu led Lu Youyi, Cyril, and Ge Zhu straight to the dance floor. Ge Zhu had changed into casual clothes for the outing. Although he kept saying “no, no” the whole way, once he was in the middle of the dance floor, he danced more enthusiastically than anyone else.
Jiang Luo watched them fool around, then walked to the bar and tapped the counter. “Give me a glass of cold beer.”
The bar lighting was low, with only a few dim spotlights above the liquor shelves.
The bartender’s face was obscured by shadow. He didn’t ask what brand of beer Jiang Luo wanted, nor did he make small talk. Silently, he turned around and skillfully picked up a shaker.
Ye Xun sat to Jiang Luo’s left, while Wenren Lian and Kuang Zheng sat to his right. Wenren Lian took out a pack of cigarettes, placed it on the table, pulled one out for Jiang Luo, then lit one for himself with a smile, lips curved lazily around the cigarette.
If not for his Adam’s apple, Wenren Lian’s every movement would’ve been full of seductive feminine charm—mature and elegant. Even seated next to such allure, Jiang Luo wasn’t overshadowed. Under the flickering colored lights, his sharp features took on a hazy and provocative glow. The young man with dark hair narrowed his eyes as he smoked, looking like a painting. Nearby people couldn’t help but sneak glances at the two of them.
“I really thought we’d see Chi You today,” Wenren Lian said quietly, turning to him. “I’d already figured out how I was going to talk him into letting you go.”
Jiang Luo gave a bitter chuckle, distracted even as he smoked. “I thought so too.”
“If he wanted to take you, he wouldn’t have missed this opportunity,” Wenren Lian said. “Unless his wishes were fulfilled and he’s made peace with letting you go.”
Impossible.
Jiang Luo scoffed inwardly. He sighed and propped his cheek up with one hand, his gaze unfocused. “Wenren, do you think… maybe Chi You isn’t really dead?”
Ye Xun, listening nearby, furrowed his brows. “Jiang Luo, Chi You is already dead.”
His tone was sharp. “You saw it with your own eyes, didn’t you?”
The words struck like a hammer. Jiang Luo’s face went pale. He lowered his head slowly, stubbed out his cigarette, and muttered, “Yeah. I saw him lying in the coffin.”
In the silence, the bartender set a drink down in front of Jiang Luo.
Ripples stirred in the liquid—thick and red, sliding down the glass like blood, trailing sticky crimson threads.
Jiang Luo had clearly ordered a cold beer. But in his glass, the drink was as red as blood. He snapped his head up sharply, eyes piercing toward the bartender.
The bartender silently polished a glass. Under Jiang Luo’s gaze, he offered a polite, professional smile—but his movements were subtly stiff, like a puppet controlled by invisible strings.
Jiang Luo’s lips curled. He picked up the glass and swirled it. Wenren Lian suddenly said, “Back at that store, you could’ve traded your talismans for things too.”
Jiang Luo hesitated. “Better not. I can only draw seven talismans a day. Each one is precious. And tonight’s Chi You’s seventh day… I can’t afford to waste them.”
“Seven a day is already impressive,” Wenren Lian sighed faintly. “But you’re right. Better safe than sorry.”
The bartender suddenly asked, “Sir, is the drink not to your liking?”
Jiang Luo turned and looked at him, then shoved the glass away without hesitation and stood up. “Not in the mood. I’ll go check out the dance floor.”
The dance floor was packed with people. As soon as Jiang Luo entered, several people approached him. He politely declined them, weaving through the crowd in search of Lu Youyi and the others—but he didn’t see a single familiar face.
Blue lights swept over the crowd. Every face became unfamiliar and cold, as if draped in eerie shadows.
Jiang Luo took a step back—and suddenly, someone tapped his shoulder.
He turned around—and was met with a handsome, melancholic face.
The man wore a formal suit that clashed with the bar’s atmosphere. His eyes held a trace of sorrow, and when he looked at people, he looked deeply and tenderly. Smiling at Jiang Luo, he said, “Beautiful gentleman, may I have this dance?”
Jiang Luo raised his brows and looked him over, then smiled, flamboyant and dazzling. He drew out his words, “Of course you may.”
