Brother Monkey shared a psychic connection with Jiang Luo. Sensing what Jiang Luo was thinking, it stomped angrily in place, squeaking furiously and jabbing a finger at Jiang Luo’s nose in reproach.
Among the twelve zodiac spirits within the Yin-Yang hoop, the monkey had the hottest temper. It had long held a grudge against Jiang Luo for not summoning it first back then. And now, at a critical moment, this little troublemaker appeared. Jiang Luo stared at its tantrum, feeling only deeper despair.
The more defeated he looked, the angrier Brother Monkey became. It dropped to the ground with its back turned, refusing to help with Lian Xue. Instead, it used both claws to frantically scoop snow backward, flinging snow right into Jiang Luo’s face between its legs.
Jiang Luo: “…”
The next moment, Lian Xue attacked again. Jiang Luo narrowly dodged—his down jacket torn open by the force.
This wasn’t good.
Jiang Luo had given up on Brother Monkey and was about to come up with another plan when suddenly the monkey seemed provoked. It stood up and pointed angrily at Lian Xue, barking furiously as if enraged that she had dared attack Jiang Luo.
Lian Xue gave Brother Monkey a calm glance. She gently opened her hands, and the snow on the ground lifted into the air. Centered around her, it began swirling and growing, forming a massive snowball large enough to crush someone to death.
She raised it with her bare hands—no support—and a dark shadow loomed over Jiang Luo.
His right eyelid twitched repeatedly. Holding Brother Monkey tightly, Jiang Luo scrambled up from the snow and ran with all his strength.
Expressionless, Lian Xue hurled the snowball at him. The crushing ball of snow barreled through the air, gaining on Jiang Luo as he struggled to move his trembling, powerless legs.
Just as the snowball was about to strike, Brother Monkey suddenly wriggled out of Jiang Luo’s arms, scampered down his leg, and hugged tightly onto his calves.
In the next instant, both Jiang Luo and the monkey vanished into thin air.
With a loud boom, the snowball slammed to the ground. Lian Xue tilted her head slightly, staring at the spot where Jiang Luo had disappeared.
She walked over, moved the snowball aside, crouched down, and gently brushed away the snow on the ground. There, beneath the deep layer of ice and frost, was a vibrant green vine, as thick as a finger, poking up from the earth.
Full of life, the vine brushed against Lian Xue’s fingertips, quickly climbing up her hand as it grew. She let go and stood up.
On the mountaintop.
The Fated One opened his eyes and murmured thoughtfully, “Jiang Luo has channeled Wood.”
“At the final moment, he used an underground vine to escape.”
“Well then,” the Fated One sighed, “the Wood spirit may not be powerful, but at least I no longer need to worry.”
Ji Yaozi glanced at Daoist Elder Wei He’s blank expression and asked, “Worry about what?”
The Fated One didn’t answer.
He looked out the window, recalling the threat Jiang Luo had made inside his inner realm.
At least… at least now he didn’t have to worry—
Worry that Jiang Luo would obstruct his path to godhood.
“You treat Jiang Luo differently,” Ji Yaozi probed. “You once told me that gods are impartial, that they never favor anyone.”
The Fated One had indeed said that. In his eyes, all things in the world were the same. A handful of dirt or a human life—neither carried any special weight. He could love all living beings, but never give special regard to any one person.
At its core, such a statement revealed—
The cold indifference of a god.
But the Fated One had treated Jiang Luo differently from the very beginning.
Yet this favoritism from a false god—was it a blessing or a curse for Jiang Luo?
The Fated One said, “He might become the next me.”
Ji Yaozi was momentarily stunned.
The Fated One turned to look at him, his pale eyes seeming almost translucent in the light. He smiled and said, “To favor a false god—how could that be the same as favoring a mere mortal?”
***
When Jiang Luo was pulled underground, it had never crossed his mind that his monkey spirit was actually an earth-monkey that could take him underground.
Once he realized, Jiang Luo immediately dug out the ginseng spirit from his backpack. He thought of the large, peony-sized rose that the ginseng spirit had nurtured—it was perfect. He could use the ginseng spirit’s tears to awaken the dormant seed and fool the Fated One.
The ginseng doll cried pitifully, big teardrops falling one by one. Very soon, the vine seed sprouted and grew, bursting through the soil.
Jiang Luo held his breath and listened intently for any movement above. After a while, the ginseng spirit nudged him with its tendrils, eyes full of tears as it whispered, “Daddy, there’s no one up there anymore.”
Jiang Luo was surprised. “You can hear sounds from above?”
Snow muffled all footsteps—Jiang Luo hadn’t heard anything. But the ginseng doll had.
“I’m a five-hundred-year-old ginseng spirit,” the ginseng doll said matter-of-factly. “I was buried underground for five hundred years—I can hear everything happening on the surface within several miles! If your master hadn’t been so cunning, I wouldn’t have been caught by him…”
It sniffled and started cursing Feng Li again.
Jiang Luo let it complain all it wanted. Once he was sure no one was on the surface, he dragged himself out of the cramped underground tunnel, covered in dirt. The monkey spirit leapt out right after him, arms folded, sitting disdainfully on Jiang Luo’s head, grunting in discontent.
Jiang Luo didn’t dare stay. He made straight for the foot of the mountain, praising the monkey spirit the whole way. Finally, when they reached the base, the monkey—now thoroughly pleased—happily returned to the Yin-Yang hoop.
After descending the mountain, Jiang Luo didn’t return to the Lian family’s ancestral home. Instead, he started walking into the wilderness.
The Lian family estate laid deep in the mountains. Along the winding mountain road, cars were rare. Jiang Luo planned to keep walking until his phone got a signal, then call Lu Youyi to come pick him up. But unexpectedly, after only an hour of walking, he encountered a familiar car.
The car pulled up beside him, the window rolled down, and Zhuo Zhongqiu looked at him in surprise. “You came down the mountain?”
“No wait—what happened to you? Did you fall off a cliff?”
Jiang Luo was caught off guard at the sight of them. The memory of their distorted, stunned expressions pressed against the window in last night’s dream surfaced suddenly. His face twitched slightly, and he forced himself to stay calm. “Something happened, but it’s no big deal. The trial is in two days—I came down early to get ready. Why are you here?”
The Lian estate was hours from the city. Judging by their timing, they must have set off first thing in the morning.
“We came to find you…” Zhuo Zhongqiu said, clearly unsure how to explain. “Last night, in our dreams… Uh, never mind, just get in the car first.”
When they woke that morning, the group had looked at one another in disbelief—each of them still clearly remembered the final scene from the dream. Once they confirmed they weren’t hallucinating, they’d rushed to the Lian house to find Jiang Luo.
Hadn’t they broken up? Why were they suddenly kissing again?
Jiang Luo already had a good idea what Zhuo Zhongqiu wanted to say. He rubbed his nose, a little embarrassed, and climbed into the car with some shame.
Besides Zhuo Zhongqiu, Wenren Lian and Ye Xun had also come to find Jiang Luo. Ye Xun had a burning look in his eyes and clearly wanted to ask a lot, but seeing how disheveled Jiang Luo looked, he held his tongue and silently passed him a wet wipe.
Jiang Luo slowly wiped his hands clean, then casually fixed his hair. Every so often, he felt the gazes of the other three land on him—again and again—making him more and more uneasy.
The atmosphere grew subtly awkward. Wenren Lian, sitting in the passenger seat, couldn’t hold back a chuckle and spoke up to ease the tension: “Alright, alright, let’s leave it for now. Jiang Luo, you and Ye Xun should take a nap. It’s still over four hours until we’re back. Zhongqiu, I’ll switch with you at the next rest stop?”
Zhuo Zhongqiu withdrew her gaze from the rearview mirror and coughed. “Sure.”
Jiang Luo gratefully accepted the offer to step down, leaned his head against the window, and closed his eyes, pretending to rest.
Before he knew it, he actually fell asleep to the sway of the moving car. When he woke up again, it was the noise of people and traffic outside that pulled him back to consciousness.
Jiang Luo slowly opened his eyes and quietly watched the traffic jam and the bustling crowds on the sidewalks. He picked up his phone, which had been buzzing non-stop.
Once it had reconnected to the signal, all the messages came pouring in. The phone even froze for ten seconds.
There were dozens of missed calls. Besides those from Lu Youyi and the others, there were over ten missed calls from Officer Lin, the most recent one being just yesterday.
Jiang Luo raised an eyebrow and called back. The call was picked up within seconds.
“Is this Student Jiang?” Officer Lin’s tone didn’t sound especially urgent.
Jiang Luo’s voice was still hoarse from sleep. “Yes, Officer Lin. Did you need something?”
“There is something,” Officer Lin said. “Student Jiang, I want to thank you for pointing us in the right direction regarding the blood eels. You were right—the case is indeed connected to the Chi family, and very much so. After more than a month of hard work, we’ve gathered a lot of evidence. Now we’re just waiting for the trial jointly held by the Xuanling Joint Committee to conclude, and then we can move in and arrest them.”
Jiang Luo couldn’t help but smile. He leaned back in his seat, black hair almost tucked into his down jacket, and said, “Congratulations.”
“This is all thanks to you,” Officer Lin suddenly lowered his voice. “Student Jiang, is it convenient for you to talk right now?”
Jiang Luo glanced at his companions in the car, yawned lazily, and said, “It’s fine.”
Officer Lin breathed a sigh of relief, and his voice returned to normal. “Here’s the situation. While we were investigating the blood eel case, we happened to uncover quite a few cases of corruption among the upper ranks of the metaphysics world. The state has always been reluctant to interfere in metaphysics, but this investigation really opened our eyes—and now, the higher-ups are aware. Some are considering a thorough crackdown and reform of the metaphysical sector, but we haven’t found a suitable entry point yet. At this point, I thought of you. You took the initiative to risk your safety to provide me with information, and your record is spotless—that shows you’re a good comrade! So I recommended you to my superiors. I wanted to ask, Student Jiang, would you be interested in cooperating with us?”
Jiang Luo frowned and sat up. “Cooperate?”
Officer Lin said, “I can’t go into detail over the phone, but if it’s convenient after the trial is over, could we meet in person?”
Jiang Luo was silent for a moment, glancing at the three people whose ears were clearly perked up, listening in. Their hearing and vision were better than the average person’s, and Jiang Luo hadn’t bothered to hide the conversation. He figured they’d already heard everything Officer Lin had said.
He thought of their deaths in the dream last night—that world so starkly different from the peace and safety outside the car window. After a long pause, he replied quietly, “Alright. But when the time comes, can I bring a few friends along?”
Jiang Luo’s goal and Chi You’s overlapped in some ways. He wanted to protect those he cared about, but he also didn’t want to let off the Chi and Qi families who repeatedly framed him—or the Fated One who tried to brainwash and use him.
Jiang Luo wasn’t a good person, but he wasn’t a monster either. He wouldn’t use the methods of a ghost—so he would use human means instead.
Officer Lin asked, “Are they trustworthy friends?”
Jiang Luo smiled. “Yes.”
“Then we’d be glad—truly glad! We’re worried about being short-handed and having no one to work with!”
After hanging up, Jiang Luo turned and asked, “Did you all hear that?”
The three nodded silently.
Jiang Luo looked at Zhuo Zhongqiu.
Among the three, only Zhuo Zhongqiu had deep ties with the Six Great Families. She met his eyes through the rearview mirror, and after thinking it over, said, “Our family is the weakest of the Six. We barely have any disciples, and I have to go to twelve different universities to recruit talent. I know what kind of man my father is—our family keeps a low profile. Even if they investigate us thoroughly, we’ve got nothing to hide.”
She rubbed her chin and made a decisive statement, “Don’t worry, Jiang Luo. I won’t tell my father about this. But when you go to meet them, you have to bring me with you.”
Jiang Luo laughed and winked at her. “That’s exactly what I was planning.”
On the way, they passed a deli, and Wenren Lian got out to buy a few dishes. When they returned to Lu Youyi’s apartment, Jiang Luo had just stepped inside and hadn’t even taken off his shoes when a row of gazes pinned him to the spot.
Lu Youyi immediately blurted out, “Jiang Luo, last night I saw you kissing Chi You in my dream—what’s going on between you two? You’re back together?”
