Today was a bright, sunlit day.
Jiang Luo lazily dragged a stool out and sat in the doorway, slumped against the wall like some old man basking in the sun.
Golden sunlight spilled across his face, turning his pupils to molten gold. His black hair was messy, some strands standing up from static, catching the light like strands of fine gold.
The crisp winter air stung his nose. The season was dry, making lips crack and skin peel. But Jiang Luo looked as radiant as ever, his face glowing with energy. He licked his lips—dry, but tolerable. He couldn’t be bothered to get himself water. He didn’t want to move at all.
The afterglow of the spring dream left him feeling drowsy, yawning endlessly.
But unlike last time, this time there was no mess to clean up. Spiritual satisfaction didn’t necessarily mean physical filth. Jiang Luo half-closed his eyes, feeling it was a shame. The malicious ghost—maybe because it had happened in a dream—had been exceptionally intense last night, to the point Jiang Luo hadn’t even gotten the chance to mock him.
Jiang Luo had already made up his mind: if manipulating the malicious ghost in dreams worked, he’d act more indifferent by the day—then cut ties completely after seven days. Chi You’s face by then would be a sight to behold.
Just imagining it made Jiang Luo bend over in quiet laughter, shoulders shaking. But soon, the boredom crept back in.
The malicious ghost’s words replayed in his head: “I’m really starting to want to make our lover status official.”
While thrusting hard into him, the malicious ghost’s cold, corpse-like fingers threaded tightly between Jiang Luo’s. Sweat and lust mingled in the air as he said in a low, unreadable voice: “You were right. I’ve fallen for you, Jiang Luo.”
He had admitted it.
“What a pity.”
“From now on, every inch of your skin, every drop of your blood…”
“All belongs to me.”
The winter sunlight made one drowsy and warm.
Jiang Luo came back to himself and clicked his tongue.
Considering how good last night felt, he didn’t even feel like arguing over what Chi You had said.
Belongs to you?
Dream on, you lunatic.
His eyes drifted to a potted plant, and out of nowhere, he remembered again—Chi You had fallen for him.
He frowned, rubbing his temples. Suddenly, he felt annoyed.
Regardless of whether Chi You liked him or not, Jiang Luo had something more important to deal with: returning the favor for those three remaining deaths.
Sunbathing time passed quickly. Around ten, a young disciple came to find him. “Senior Brother, the Daoist Master invites you to the Small Spring Pool.”
Unlike yesterday, Jiang Luo was prepared today. He packed a change of clothes, picked up his things, and followed the child toward the Small Spring Pool.
When he arrived, Daoist Master Wei He and the Fated One were already waiting by the pool.
Jiang Luo greeted them with a smile. “Daoist Master, the Fated One.”
The Fated One nodded with a smile. “You’re in good spirits today.”
Jiang Luo smiled lightly. “After soaking in the sacred water, my body and mind feel much more refreshed.”
Daoist Wei He couldn’t help showing a hint of pride. Stroking his beard, he said, “That’s exactly why the sacred water is so sought after. It’s not early anymore—Jiang Luo, you’d better get in.”
Jiang Luo glanced at the freshly cleared surface of the water. He suppressed the irritation in his heart and slowly removed his clothes. In a casual tone, he asked, “Daoist, when will my master arrive?”
“If not today, then tomorrow,” Daoist Wei He replied. “Your master cares a lot about you. It hasn’t even been a full month, and he’s already eager to see how well the filth has been cleansed from your body. Don’t worry—even though you only reached the mountaintop yesterday and your cleansing started late, I can assure you, within five or six more days at most, your whole body will be purified. Then, you can learn whatever you wish.”
Jiang Luo gave a faint smile. “Techniques are just external things. I’m no longer attached.”
Daoist Wei He was briefly at a loss, stammering, “Still, still… they must be learned…”
Before he could finish, the Fated One turned his head slightly and said with weight, “Lian Chun.”
Daoist Wei He fell silent immediately.
The Fated One continued, “Go check on your junior disciples.”
Daoist Wei He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something, but after glancing at Jiang Luo, then at the Fated One, he forced a stiff smile. “You’re right. Nephew Lian Bing’s injuries are quite serious—I’ll go check on him. You two carry on.”
With that, he left in a hurry.
Their cryptic exchange piqued Jiang Luo’s curiosity. He couldn’t help asking, “You look quite young, but the elders all seem to fear you.”
The old heavenly master had shown him great respect, and Daoist Wei He had even been addressed by name. Was there such a character called the Fated One in the original book?
The Fated One laughed. “Do I really look young to you?”
Jiang Luo nodded honestly. “You look about my age.”
“I’m no longer young,” the Fated One chuckled, shaking his head. “Go on, get in the water. Don’t catch a chill.”
Before entering the pool, Jiang Luo touched the tassel earring hidden in his pocket. After hesitating for a few seconds, he decided not to wear it, but kept it close to his body, tucked into his clothes.
The spring water was still warm and pleasant. But unlike yesterday, as soon as Jiang Luo stood in the water, the black filth began spreading through the pool at twice the speed. Jiang Luo raised an eyebrow inwardly. So a single spring dream was that effective?
That b*stard Chi You—turns out he was actually useful.
The Fated One watched the water surface with some surprise, frowning as he let a drop of blood fall into the pool.
Immediately, the surface began to churn—clear water and black water occupied their own halves, locked in a fierce standoff.
Jiang Luo had his suspicion confirmed and felt slightly relieved, but as the black water swirled, he couldn’t help but think again of Chi You.
The moment the thought slipped in, that feeling from last night—that bone-melting, toe-curling sensation—began to creep back through his fingers. Jiang Luo suddenly felt as if a ghost was still kissing the back of his neck. He clenched his fists underwater, the pleasure of remembered lust surging again through the heat.
But the moment his mind wandered to that, the stalemate between the black and clear water broke—black water began to push forward, aggressively overtaking the pool.
Jiang Luo: “…”
He coughed twice and calmed himself. The black water slowly receded.
The Fated One murmured, “Strange… the filth is heavier than yesterday.”
He then looked up at Jiang Luo. Something strange seemed to flicker in his eyes, but he said nothing more, nor did he act.
Jiang Luo pretended not to notice and treated the soak as a bath.
An hour passed slowly. Despite his usual vigilance, Jiang Luo’s guard began to loosen for no apparent reason. He closed his eyes to rest.
In a half-awake state, the Fated One suddenly called out: “Jiang Luo.”
Jiang Luo’s lashes trembled, and he slowly opened his eyes.
At some point, the Fated One had stepped into the water and now stood before Jiang Luo, surrounded by thick mist.
Jiang Luo stared at him quietly.
Beads of dew rolled from the young man’s temples down his face, moistening his dry lips. The Fated One seemed to be watching him intently—his eyes appeared covered in a snow-like white film. Though they seemed to smile, they held no human warmth. The strangeness sent a chill down one’s spine.
His long white hair flowed smoothly down his back, with two locks hanging in front. His face was stunningly handsome, and in the mist, he looked almost otherworldly.
“Would you like to hear a story?”
He asked softly.
Jiang Luo’s sluggish mind turned over a bit and he nodded.
“Many years ago, I performed a divination for the metaphysical world,” the Fated One said slowly, as if telling someone else’s tale. “The result showed that our world would decline from its peak, and eventually face total catastrophe.”
“The entire metaphysical world would be destroyed by one person.”
He chuckled. “Sounds hard to believe, doesn’t it?”
“But it’s true,” the Fated One’s expression turned faint. “For the future of this world, many people tried countless ways to stop it. But some calamities can’t be avoided, no matter how hard you try.”
Suddenly, he reached out and brushed the side of Jiang Luo’s face.
It felt like being touched by snow. The tassel earring in Jiang Luo’s pocket swayed lightly. His mind cleared instantly by half.
His inner guard went up.
The Fated One looked at him gently and said softly, “In this world, only you can end this disaster.”
“Not me. Not your master. No one else,” he murmured, gently wiping a droplet of water from Jiang Luo’s lip. “Only you can—and only you can kill him.”
His voice was like a bewitchment, like hypnosis. “For the sake of the metaphysics world, for your master and your friends, you must end this catastrophe, alright?”
