Jiang Luo paused with the spoon in his hand, then continued eating as if nothing had happened.
That morning, he had coughed up blood again. The pain lingered, making it hard for him to hold chopsticks. He could only manage the spoon.
He ate slowly and with great focus, because if he didn’t concentrate, the lingering pain would make his hand tremble.
His pride wouldn’t allow him to show this weakness in front of others.
Daoist Elder Wei He was visibly excited. “Which mountain range?”
Ge Wuchen was travel-worn, his shoes caked with mud, his face weary—clearly having rushed back without rest. He smiled at Daoist Elder Wei He but didn’t answer. Instead, he looked toward Chi You.
The ghost cast a sidelong glance at Jiang Luo, but Jiang Luo ate steadily, as if he hadn’t heard a thing. It was like the bowl of rice in front of him mattered more than the dragon vein that could help him stay alive.
The ghost, whose moods had shifted unpredictably over the past few days, visibly darkened. The fork and knife in his hand bent under the force of his grip. He set down the cutlery, took a handkerchief, and wiped his hands elegantly. A smile curved his lips, as if genuinely curious.
“Oh? Which mountain range? Tell Daoist Elder Wei He all about it.”
Ge Wuchen responded and unfolded the map in front of Daoist Elder Wei He. Pointing to a northern mountain range, he said, “The Dawu Mountain dragon vein—surrounded by rivers and hills, the vein coils in a sleeping dragon formation. What do you think?”
Daoist Elder Wei He bent down, closely examining the path of the mountains. The mountains are the dragon’s form, the waters its blood. Beyond that, one must also assess the mountain’s soil, stone, and vegetation—the dragon’s flesh, bones, and hair. In addition to the map, Ge Wuchen had taken photos of Dawu Mountain. After some time reviewing them, Daoist Elder Wei He slowly nodded.
“This dragon vein—I believe it’s usable.”
Ge Wuchen turned to Jiang Luo. “What does Benefactor Jiang think?”
Jiang Luo said calmly, “If Daoist Elder Wei He says it’s usable, then it is.”
Seeing the increasingly dark look on his Master’s face, Ge Wuchen quickly tried to keep Jiang Luo talking, hoping it might lift Chi You’s mood even a little.
In fact, he had returned the night before. But as soon as he arrived, Liao Si had told him about the fight between Jiang Luo and their Master. Fearing things would get worse, Ge Wuchen had waited until breakfast, when everyone was gathered, to report the news—hoping Jiang Luo would cheer up at the news of the dragon vein, and perhaps reconcile with Master.
But when he asked a few questions, Jiang Luo either didn’t answer or only responded with a few words, his expression remaining cold the entire time. Ge Wuchen eventually couldn’t continue, and in the awkward silence, Daoist Elder Wei He stepped forward and said seriously, “Jiang Luo’s body can’t be delayed any longer. Since we’ve already found a usable dragon vein, it’s best to depart for Mount Dawu in the next couple of days.”
The malicious ghost threw the handkerchief heavily onto the table and said expressionlessly, “We’ll leave tomorrow.”
As soon as he said that, Jiang Luo stood up and went straight back to his room.
He sent the information about the Dawu Mountain dragon vein to Wenren Lian, asking him to lead his department in investigating the mountain and checking for any potential dangers. After confirming that Wenren Lian had received the message, Jiang Luo deleted the message log and started searching for public science info about Mount Dawu online.
After a while, Ge Wuchen knocked on his door. “Benefactor Jiang, may this humble monk come in to have a word with you?”
Jiang Luo replied lazily, “Come in.”
As Ge Wuchen pushed the door open and stepped inside, he saw shattered glass all over the floor by the doorway—a broken vase, though who knew how long it had been lying there.
His eye twitched. Looking up, he saw Jiang Luo sitting calmly at the table smoking, looking completely at ease, without a trace of anger or frustration.
Ge Wuchen closed the door and walked over, smiling as he said, “Benefactor Jiang, I heard you had a fight with Master?”
Jiang Luo smiled faintly, casually defining the outburst from a few days ago, “On purpose.”
Ge Wuchen wasn’t surprised at all to hear that—in fact, he had expected it. He had always known Jiang Luo was rational and calculating, never doing anything without a purpose. The earlier argument was definitely something Jiang Luo had orchestrated to achieve a goal. Ge Wuchen believed him easily. Now that he knew the fight wasn’t real, he relaxed a little and joked, “What did you two fight about? You scared everyone else stiff.”
Jiang Luo exhaled a puff of smoke and said indifferently, “Just a small matter.”
Ge Wuchen didn’t argue. He pulled apart the prayer beads in his hand and gently tossed them onto the floor. The beads scattered and rolled into the corners of the room. Ge Wuchen said, “Benefactor Jiang, our conversation now won’t be overheard by Master.”
Jiang Luo chuckled, “Ge Wuchen, how did a single trip out make you stupid? That was completely unnecessary. You think just because you entered my room, he doesn’t know? His eyes have been on you this whole time. Now that you’ve made such a show, doesn’t that just scream that something’s up between us?”
But in the next second, he put the cigarette to his lips, retracted his smile, and said lazily, “But I don’t care either. Go on, what do you want to talk about?”
The fact that Ge Wuchen had done this already meant he was prepared for the consequences. He smiled calmly too and said, “Benefactor Jiang, that last thing you said to Master really screwed me over. Seeing how pitiful I am, why don’t we call off our past grudges? Sure, I lied to you before, but you and I share the same goal.”
As he spoke, he couldn’t help but get a bit excited. “Benefactor Jiang, you’ve done even better than I imagined. Master can’t let you go at all. Just from a few days of not speaking to him after a fight, do you know what he’s become? His frustration is obvious to anyone! I’ve never seen him show such human-like emotions… Jiang Luo, you’re amazing. You’ve completely taken hold of him. In time, you can definitely make him give up that future.”
Jiang Luo listened quietly, his feet propped on the table, cigarette between his lips. Ge Wuchen’s tone was compelling, but his excitement only served to highlight the calm on Jiang Luo’s face.
There were no windows in the room, only a fluorescent light overhead. After his excited speech, Ge Wuchen leaned on the table, breathing heavily, and repeated like he was trying to brainwash someone, “Jiang Luo, only you can prevent that kind of future.”
Jiang Luo suddenly laughed, the smile carrying a trace of mockery. “You think I can make Chi You give up on destroying the metaphysics world for me?”
Ge Wuchen nodded.
Jiang Luo exaggeratedly flicked his cigarette. “Don’t be stupid, Ge Wuchen. That’s impossible.”
He shrugged. “It’s true my goal is the same as yours, but my methods aren’t. I’ve already absorbed half the power of the Fated One, and Daoist Elder Wei He said I might even become a false-god after tempering my body. I can suppress him directly through force—get it? Beat him until he doesn’t dare try to turn the human world into a ghost district. That’s my way.”
Ge Wuchen frowned, giving Jiang Luo a strange look. “Suppress him with force? Jiang Luo, are you joking?”
Jiang Luo lifted the corners of his lips. “Ge Wuchen, while we share a goal, our perspectives are a bit different. Both he and I know: I won’t interfere with how many people from the six major families he wants to kill. However he wants to stir up the metaphysics world is his business. This world’s long since rotted to the core, and however chaotic it gets has nothing to do with me. On the contrary, if the metaphysics world falls apart, it makes it easier for our research bureau to take over. I won’t protect the six major families, not even Dazhao Temple. After all, if he wants revenge, who am I to stop him? But if he tries to drag the entire metaphysics world down with him, using ghosts and monsters to rule it and disrupting the normal social order—then I’ll act.”
Ge Wuchen sensed something was off. Jiang Luo’s cold, by-the-book tone was different from before. He said sharply, “Even with force, the Fated One couldn’t stop him. How can you?”
Before Jiang Luo could respond, Ge Wuchen quickly tried to persuade him again: “Jiang Luo, as long as you want, Master will definitely give up his plan to destroy the metaphysics world for revenge. Isn’t that better than using force? I’m not trying to discourage you, but not even the Fated One could stop him. Even if you become a shikigami, you still might not be able to do anything.”
Ge Wuchen sounded anxious. Jiang Luo couldn’t tell whether the anxiety was real or just a show. He slowly took a drag on his cigarette and countered, “Ge Wuchen, do you think I matter to him?”
Ge Wuchen nodded without hesitation, firm and certain. “To him, you’re one of a kind.”
If it had been a year ago, Ge Wuchen would never have believed he’d say something like this. Chi You, care about someone? Don’t be ridiculous—how could that be possible? But a year later, the impossible had become possible. Ge Wuchen said it with absolute certainty. He could even swear on his life that Chi You’s concern for Jiang Luo had long surpassed the category of “important.”
It was a deeper meaning—something Ge Wuchen didn’t dare to think about too much, yet vaguely sensed.
Ge Wuchen had stayed by Chi You’s side for five years. Five years was enough for him to understand how cruel and dark Chi You’s true nature was. The unique way Chi You treated Jiang Luo had ignited a spark of hope in Ge Wuchen. Perhaps even Jiang Luo himself didn’t realize what kind of weight Chi You’s special treatment toward him truly carried.
He said bluntly, “Jiang Luo, maybe you can’t see it clearly from the inside, but the influence you have on him is already so great that none of us can believe it.”
He even suspected that Chi You… didn’t merely like Jiang Luo.
Jiang Luo didn’t so much as flicker an eyelash. Calm and unruffled, he continued, “Then what kind of person do you think I am?”
Ge Wuchen pondered for a moment. “Decisive. Calm. Impulsive and reckless.”
These descriptions were entirely contradictory, but Jiang Luo himself was a contradictory person. He had repeatedly tested the boundaries between life and death with clear-headed awareness. No one could say whether his actions were driven by logic or impulse.
Jiang Luo turned his head to look at the windowless wall. He tried to imagine a window there, and that he was gazing out at the scenery beyond.
Ge Wuchen was right—he was just that kind of person. When facing Chi You, the thrill surged through his cortex like wildfire, making him reckless and desperate around Chi You.
He wanted to conquer the malicious ghost. He was pleased to be desired by him.
But Jiang Luo rarely ever got truly angry.
Yet during the argument with Chi You, he had been genuinely furious.
That rage had come so suddenly, so wildly, Jiang Luo had barely been able to control himself. At first, he’d only been teasing with a joking tone, probing a question he didn’t even care about.
Afterward, he thought long and hard about it, but still couldn’t figure out what exactly he had been angry about. He had sent a text to Wenren Lian, deciding that after his body-tempering ritual, he would leave Chi You’s side—because he didn’t want to lose control again.
It was strange.
He had always insisted on using strength to make Chi You abandon that destructive idea—so why had he threatened Chi You with himself that night?
What had he been thinking? What sort of mindset was he in? Why had he been so reckless?
Was it Chi You’s attitude toward him that had made him lose his usual judgment?
And what about Chi You—what had he been thinking?
He clearly understood what Jiang Luo meant. He remembered what Jiang Luo had told him in that dream. He knew that Jiang Luo wouldn’t interfere with his revenge against the metaphysics world—as long as it didn’t affect Jiang Luo’s friends or disrupt normal society, Jiang Luo wouldn’t get involved.
And yet, even knowing that—knowing Jiang Luo had warned him not to plunge the world into chaos by unleashing ghosts—he still didn’t want to change anything for Jiang Luo’s sake.
Wasn’t that the most predictable outcome?
The more Jiang Luo thought about it, the less he understood. He didn’t even know why he had gotten so angry.
It was absurd.
Just like now—how he still felt that tight, uncomfortable squeeze in his chest over this matter.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Jiang Luo let out a dry chuckle, pulled his legs down from the desk, and stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray. “Ge Wuchen, how come you made the same mistake I did?”
Ge Wuchen: “What mistake?”
Jiang Luo raised an eyebrow, drawling slowly, “A malicious ghost—how could someone like that give up his lifelong goal for the sake of feelings?”
“Don’t overthink it,” he said in turn, advising Ge Wuchen. “Chi You’s bad mood these days is just because I argued with him and bruised his pride. He can’t kill me, so he can only stew like this. Our fight didn’t really have any deeper reason—I just wanted to end our relationship as lovers. A malicious ghost like Chi You is too dangerous; I need to help him burn through his feelings for me. Once they’re gone, once he realizes I’m not all that important to him, we’ll break up peacefully and go our separate ways. But don’t worry, if he crosses the line, I’ll handle it strictly by the book.”
Yes, let it wear down, and it’ll disappear. Jiang Luo thought to himself.
After he finished, Jiang Luo seemed a little bored. He lowered his head and picked up the pen on the table. “You’ve been in here five minutes. Time to go.”
***
Ge Wuchen left Jiang Luo’s room.
He had only taken a few steps after closing the door when everything suddenly went black. In the next instant, he was dragged into the presence of the malicious ghost by thick black mist.
The room’s lights were off. The malicious ghost’s figure was even darker than the shadows. The harsh line of his jaw cut a deadly silhouette in the dark, his aura oppressive and terrifying.
“What did he say to you?”
The malicious ghost’s voice was hoarse, laced with bloodlust and barely-suppressed violence.
Cold sweat broke out on Ge Wuchen’s forehead. He had already prepared himself to face Chi You—but even so, the suddenness of this ambush still rattled him.
“Amitabha… Master, Benefactor Jiang, he—”
Chi You cut him off. In the blink of an eye, the black mist spread through the entire room, transforming into sharp, claw-like projections aimed right at Ge Wuchen.
The malicious ghost spoke coldly, “Think carefully before you answer, Ge Wuchen. You’re not allowed to skip a single word.”
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