From root to tip, every strand was a pure, untainted white—far more natural and beautiful than the white dye in salons.
Jiang Luo stared into the mirror at the black-haired young man and twitched his brow sharply.
Kuang Zheng, noticing his expression, awkwardly complimented, “It looks pretty good.”
Lu Youyi leaned in and said, “Jiang Luo, did you go out and dye your hair today? You only dyed a little—hard to notice if you don’t look closely. But honestly, this style looks pretty cool.”
Jiang Luo silently plucked the white strand from his black hair. As Lu Youyi said, the white hair gleamed like flowing beads—it almost became an ornament amidst his locks, the cold tone balancing out the dazzling beauty of his features. But no matter how good it looked, Jiang Luo was deeply annoyed.
To have one’s vitality stolen by a ghost—it meant losing one’s vigor and youth. This strand of hair would continue to grow, but no matter how long it got, it would always be white, as if he had stepped prematurely into old age.
As someone who stayed up late doing graphic design year-round, nothing was more important than his hair. If that ghost were still standing in front of him, Jiang Luo would’ve already punched that outrageously handsome face into the ground.
With a grim expression, he tucked the white strand into his black hair. Luckily, only a small portion had lost its life force—if there had been more, his hairstyle would’ve gone from “cool” to “cringy subculture.”
After the river incident was resolved, the group set off back to school. When Jiang Luo wasn’t looking, the others exchanged a few meaningful glances.
They didn’t believe a word of Jiang Luo’s story, but to avoid upsetting him, they played along and changed the topic.
After all, how could someone just accidentally drive a car into the river?
They guessed that Jiang Luo had thought of Chi You again on the way back, or that Chi You had reappeared and bewitched him somehow, making Jiang Luo lose focus and drive into the water.
These repeated accidents filled them with heartache for Jiang Luo. He was no longer the same person as before. He was working so hard to grow stronger—wasn’t it all just to help Chi You?
A repentant rogue always stirred sympathy. They had already accepted Jiang Luo as one of their own and couldn’t bear to watch him sink deeper into a hopeless love.
While Jiang Luo was away during the day, they’d even held a small secret meeting and decided to stop him from seeing Chi You again. But that wasn’t enough—they also planned to act on Zhuo Zhongqiu’s suggestion and encourage Jiang Luo to start a new relationship.
As the saying goes, the best way to get over an old love… is to start a new one.
Jiang Luo had no idea what they were plotting. Once back at school, he returned to his room and continued studying the Yin-Yang hoop.
The twelve golden spell incantations of the Yin-Yang hoop could be formed into the twelve zodiac animals. But the more powerful the zodiac, the higher the requirements for Jiang Luo. For example, he wanted to summon a dragon—but at his current strength, he couldn’t yet control the golden spells needed to form a dragon.
Jiang Luo wasn’t in a rush. After getting used to controlling the spells for a while, he turned off the light and prepared to sleep.
Lying in bed, a rare sense of peace washed over him. Before falling asleep, his mind wandered to many things—eventually landing on a thought: Could the golden spell incantations see through Chi You’s puppets?
Sleepiness slowly overtook him.
Forget it. I’ll think about it tomorrow… Jiang Luo drifted off.
That night, he slept incredibly soundly—not even dreaming. When he opened his eyes again, the sun was already high in the sky.
Jiang Luo stretched, raising his hand as sunlight filtered through his fingers and cast speckled shadows on the blanket.
He stared at it in a daze for a while before getting up to take a shower.
The weather was beautiful. The clouds floated low, and the sky was a clear, watery blue.
Jiang Luo stood on the balcony and admired the morning view. It was the most relaxed he had felt since arriving in this world. His lips curled up slightly as he carefully observed the school grounds. In the distance, he spotted a small crop field.
It was full of scallions, tomatoes, and cucumbers. Jiang Luo raised his eyebrows, thinking of the terrible cafeteria food—and for once, he felt like cooking for himself.
Once he had the thought, he acted. He went downstairs to pick some vegetables, borrowed the cafeteria kitchen, and stir-fried a plate of tomato and eggs, along with a side of cold salad.
But when he came out, he saw Lu Youyi and the other seven people holding bowls of rice and grinning at him.
Jiang Luo resigned himself and set the two dishes on the table. “How did you know I was here?”
Wenren Lian laughed, “The time and location for the next round of the competition just came out. It’s in one month, and the venue has moved to Xiangxi. We came to tell you, but the dorm matron said you ran off to the cafeteria to cook.”
While they chatted, the two dishes had already been picked clean, each person having taken a few bites with their chopsticks. Lu Youyi poured the tomato-egg sauce over his rice, careful not to waste a drop. “Jiang Luo, you actually know how to cook!”
Jiang Luo, eating his plain white rice with little enthusiasm, replied, “Somethings, you just need to learn it, and then you know.”
Ge Zhu chuckled in a weathered tone, “Not us. We could never learn. To keep from starving, we have no choice but to eat cafeteria food.”
But he was optimistic. “The cafeteria food is terrible in every way—except that it’s free and filling.”
Jiang Luo asked sincerely, “Why doesn’t the school just hire a new chef?”
Zhuo Zhongqiu explained, “People who are aware of our metaphysics world are already rare, let alone someone willing to be a chef. The cook at our school isn’t an ordinary person—he’s our dean’s master. After the dean brought him here, he didn’t want to be a teacher, so he became a chef instead.”
Seeing their pitiful expressions as they hovered around two empty plates, Jiang Luo sighed and returned to the kitchen to stir-fry two more hearty dishes.
Lu Youyi and Ye Xun waited by the side with their rice bowls. Lu Youyi’s eyes were teary with emotion as he took a deep breath of the delicious aroma. “Wuwuwu, it smells so good…”
Ye Xun was a bit more composed. “You haven’t eaten it yet.”
Jiang Luo couldn’t help but laugh. He asked, “Ye Xun, is Kuang Zheng fixing Little Pink for you today?”
Ye Xun smiled faintly. “Yeah.”
“Mind if I come along to take a look?” Jiang Luo asked curiously.
Ye Xun nodded, his eyes still locked on the ribs cooking in the pot. “Jiang Luo, why do you know how to cook?”
It was Jiang Luo’s first time cooking with someone watching. Flipping the spatula, he replied, “People have to eat.”
Though the school cook’s skills were bad, the ingredients were top-notch. Jiang Luo’s cooking was just average, but with such quality ingredients tossed into the pot, the outcome turned out unexpectedly well.
On their first day back at school, thanks to Jiang Luo’s cooking, they all escaped another tormenting meal from the cafeteria. Under their gazes, Jiang Luo almost felt like he had been promoted to a culinary god.
With no classes that day after their recent competition, Jiang Luo followed Ye Xun to Kuang Zheng’s tool refining room in the afternoon.
Kuang Zheng wasn’t new to having people watch him forge. He placed the wraith doll into a formation, his expression serious as he drew out a thread of black resentment energy to use as thread, carefully stitching together the torn parts of the doll.
A man built like a mountain sewing a doll with a needle and thread made Jiang Luo smile. “Need any help?”
Kuang Zheng shook his head. “No need.”
Wraith dolls were hard to make and even harder to repair. Jiang Luo watched for a while, then noticed how tense Ye Xun looked.
When Ye Xun stepped out to use the restroom, Jiang Luo asked, “Why does Ye Xun care about this wraith doll so much?”
Kuang Zheng, drenched in sweat, stripped off his shirt. His muscular torso rose and fell with each motion as he wiped his forehead. “It was left to him by his mother.”
“To use a wraith doll, the spirit must willingly be absorbed by it,” Kuang Zheng explained. “The spirit in Little Pink used to be his mother.”
To Ye Xun, Little Pink wasn’t just a doll—it was his mother.
No wonder.
Jiang Luo glanced at the doll and fell silent for a moment. “I hope the spirit inside is okay.”
Just as the doll hadn’t been fully repaired, Jiang Luo got a call from Chen Pi.
He quietly left the forge room. Chen Pi chatted casually at first, and Jiang Luo calmly slipped in, “Master, about that car you gave me yesterday—I accidentally drove it into a river. It’s still being repaired after being salvaged. Should I just buy you a new one?”
“It’s just a car,” Chen Pi said breezily. “If it’s wrecked, so be it.”
Jiang Luo chuckled. “Master, how generous of you.”
“What’s generous about that,” Chen Pi sighed. “Your next….” next master—that’s someone who’s truly generous.”
He hadn’t expected that the little disciple under his name would one day catch Feng Li’s eye, nor that Jiang Luo would amount to this much. To say he had no regrets would be a lie. Now all he could do was repair his relationship with Jiang Luo and hope Feng Li would go easy on him for Jiang Luo’s sake.
Finally, Chen Pi said, “I’m almost at your school. I’m taking you to handle something.”
“What is it, Master?” Jiang Luo asked.
Chen Pi laughed heartily. “It’s a good thing! Just trust your master and come with me!”
After hanging up, Jiang Luo pondered for a moment, then made his way to the school gate.
Chen Pi’s car was parked near the entrance. As soon as Jiang Luo approached, someone opened the car door and warmly welcomed him inside.
Chen Pi was a lean old man with a kind face—he looked like any other friendly grandpa. Smiling at Jiang Luo, he said with emotion, “Good child, you’ve really grown up.”
Jiang Luo smiled faintly. Chen Pi rambled on the entire way, telling stories of Jiang Luo’s supposed childhood.
But Jiang Luo quickly realized—these stories were all made up on the spot.
The car drove slowly into the city, eventually arriving at the Feng family ancestral residence.
Hidden in plain sight, it was located in the heart of the city’s most prosperous district. In the metaphysics world, the Feng family residence had another name: the Heavenly Master’s Residence. Every Heavenly Master moved into the residence upon succession and remained even after stepping down.
Jiang Luo hadn’t expected Chen Pi to bring him here. He followed behind as they stepped through the gates.
