Jiang Luo’s face instantly darkened, like clouds gathering before a storm. He let out a cold laugh, but the smile tugged at the wound on his lip. In a chilling tone, he said, “Bitten by a dog.”
Teng Bi: “……”
After asking, he immediately sensed something was wrong—he smelled the scent of his master on Jiang Luo.
And now that he thought about it, he had also smelled the scent of the living on his master.
Did they fight?
His master’s arm was cut off by Jiang Luo, and Jiang Luo’s… lips were injured by his master?
And his master was even cursed at, called a “dog.”
Teng Bi’s brow twitched. He couldn’t understand what kind of fight could lead to this kind of situation. To avoid revealing anything, he could only pretend not to know. But maybe pretending not to know wasn’t enough? Teng Bi awkwardly said, “Is that so? Then should we go to the hospital and get a rabies shot?”
“Rabies shot” was a term he had learned in human society.
Jiang Luo’s burning rage dissipated a fair bit in an instant. He half-smiled and said, “Yeah, got bitten by a dog. Gotta get a rabies shot, right?”
Teng Bi didn’t understand why his mood had suddenly improved. The two of them exited the building. On the way, Teng Bi kept glancing at Jiang Luo from the corner of his eye, as if unintentionally.
What did Master mean by “keep an eye on Jiang Luo”?
Jiang Luo asked, “Dead ghost, what are you looking at me for?”
Teng Bi stiffened and quickly looked away, mumbling, “Nothing.”
Jiang Luo didn’t press further. After leaving the filming location, he hailed a car and went to the hospital, where he found Ye Xun and Lu Youyi.
Inside the hospital room were not only the two of them but also a police officer, the head director, and the lead producer.
The head director was grinning broadly at Ye Xun. Every time he saw Ye Xun, the director seemed a little afraid of him.
The police officer looked familiar. When he saw Jiang Luo, he flashed a bright white smile and waved. “Hey, we meet again!”
Jiang Luo thought for a moment—this was the officer who had handled the Ren Mian Ke incident at the 129 Hotel. “What a coincidence.”
“This district’s supernatural cases are handled by me and a few other colleagues,” the officer said, beaming. “Student Lu is in the OR getting stitches. Student Jiang, I’ve got a few more questions for you—are you able to answer them now?”
Jiang Luo tugged at his lips. “Hang on. I need to brush my teeth first.”
The officer glanced at his swollen, torn lips, which looked like they’d been mauled by something. He asked tactfully, “What happened to your mouth?”
Teng Bi, seeing the change in Jiang Luo’s expression, coughed and replied seriously, “He was bitten by a dog.”
The police officer laughed awkwardly. “I see.”
Ye Xun asked curiously, “There are dogs in the dorm building?”
Jiang Luo smiled, “There are.”
He took a disposable toothbrush from the cabinet, nodded calmly to the others, and walked into the bathroom. Once he was alone, Jiang Luo’s smile instantly vanished. He raised a hand to start brushing. The bristles grazed his lips, and he hissed in pain, his expression growing colder.
He leaned closer to the mirror and opened his mouth. His lips were torn and battered. There was even a split on his tongue. It was a small wound, but the pain was intense and extremely inconvenient.
Even if he used the excuse “bitten by a dog,” anyone with experience would still know the truth.
Only someone as inexperienced as Ye Xun or Dead Ghost would believe his nonsense.
Jiang Luo closed his lips. In the mirror, the black-haired youth wore a blank expression, frosted and emotionless like winter snow.
Dignity? Gone. Pride? Gone.
Call that a kiss? No way. Jiang Luo knew Chi You too well. Chi You had already said they were the same kind of person. Putting himself in Chi You’s shoes, Jiang Luo could understand the malicious ghost’s mindset. As for Chi You’s kiss, Jiang Luo came to one conclusion:
Chi You only did it to take revenge, to humiliate him.
Maybe to mock him, disgust him.
To laugh at Jiang Luo’s wasted efforts, since the faceless creature was no match for Chi You. To make him sick by kissing him, then retaliate with a more violent, brutal kiss.
Every negative emotion could be poured into that so-called “kiss,” except one—lust or love.
Jiang Luo could swear that on his life.
After thinking it through, the odd, lingering feeling of dread vanished. He gritted his teeth through three rounds of painful brushing, each stroke stoking his anger further.
Chi You’s lips were as hard as stone. That “kiss” was nothing but fire and blood—when unwillingness meets domination, it’s like dry wood meeting a blaze. One side only wants to burn the other to ashes.
Jiang Luo’s blood, and the malicious ghost’s black blood that had dripped from his lips, soaked the entire silent battle from start to end.
But the malicious ghost… would never look as pathetic as Jiang Luo did.
Jiang Luo splashed cold water on his face.
The chill soothed his anger. When he looked up from the sink, the black-haired youth once again wore a charming smile.
He left the bathroom and answered the police officer’s questions.
The officer mainly asked about what the faceless monster was and how Jiang Luo had dealt with it. Jiang Luo lied through his teeth, cutting Chi You out of the story entirely and adding a few dramatic twists for effect.
The officer was riveted.
“That was really dangerous.”
“Wow, that must’ve been tough.”
“Whoa, that part was close—good thing you dodged Student Jiang!”
It was like a storyteller and an audience: one spun a believable tale, the other listened with fascination. When the story ended, the officer regretfully closed his notebook. “Student Jiang, don’t worry. We’ll report this, and the school will probably give you guys extra credits for this.”
Jiang Luo laughed generously. “Thanks.”
Then, as if casually, he asked, “Back when we joined the National College Natural Sciences Competition, there were police officers involved too. Was Officer Lin one of them?”
The officer replied, “Yeah, they need police at events like that. Officers are assigned from each district, though. I wasn’t there, but one of my colleagues was.”
“Actually, there’s still one thing I don’t quite understand about the competition,” Jiang Luo smiled slightly and spoke in a low voice, “Officer Lin, do you know what happened to the victim’s body we found in the second round?”
From the earlier conversation, it was clear this officer named Lin Qin had a strong sense of curiosity—he had to get to the bottom of every story, a bit like Ye Xun with his love for gossip.
His colleague had been transferred to Yunnan to help maintain security for the competition, so Officer Lin had probably gotten a lot of information from him.
Officer Lin lowered his voice to match hers. “You guys don’t know?”
Jiang Luo shook his head. “The organizers didn’t tell us.”
“They probably thought you didn’t need to know,” Lin said. “The victim from round two—I heard she turned into a resentful spirit. Didn’t she pull a bunch of other corpses into the wall after she died? Ordinary corpses can’t do that kind of thing. She must’ve had a strong innate gift when she was alive—she was likely a natural talent for metaphysics. I heard the organizers handed her body over to the Chi family. A body that special—only the Chi family can put it to proper use.”
Jiang Luo suddenly understood. “So that’s how it is.”
He smiled and thanked him. “Thank you for telling me, Officer Lin.”
As expected—it was the Chi family’s doing.
But the Chi family was being far too brazen. Using Fu Yuaner against them—weren’t they afraid of being exposed?
Then Jiang Luo thought: oh, if all of them ended up dead, how would anything be exposed?
Qimen Dunjia, puppet manipulation… why had the Qi and Chi families suddenly begun to move?
After Jiang Luo and Officer Lin finished giving their statements, Officer Lin took him to find the director. “This mission is a special case. We originally thought that if we kept a low profile, we could avoid exposing our identities. But it looks like Student Jiang has already become known… Director, you understand. Neither the metaphysics community nor the state wants ordinary civilians to know about the existence of metaphysics.”
The director gave a bitter smile. “Please speak freely. We’ll fully cooperate with the state.”
Officer Lin shook his head. “We’ll handle the rest. After all, no one wanted things to get to this point.”
With that, Officer Lin took his leave.
Jiang Luo and the others stayed in the hospital room to keep watch. Lu Youyi was in a premium ward—it was Jiang Luo’s first time seeing a hospital room equipped with a sofa, coffee table, refrigerator, and even a small but fully-stocked kitchen.
Jiang Luo rolled up his sleeves, checked the fridge, and decided to cook them a late-night meal after all the chaos and running around.
Ye Xun, who had nearly dozed off, suddenly snapped his eyes open when he saw what Jiang Luo was doing. He perked up and walked over. “What are you making? Need help?”
Jiang Luo studied the contents of the fridge, thinking aloud: “Best not to eat anything too greasy before bed… but once in a while doesn’t hurt. Pork belly, eggplant, eggs…”
He rummaged through the kitchen’s seasonings—scallions, ginger, garlic, all the basics were there.
“How about eggplant with minced pork, stir-fried pork, and an egg drop soup?” Jiang Luo said.
Ye Xun’s eyes lit up, his voice cheerful. “Sounds great!”
Jiang Luo rinsed some rice. “You two don’t just stand there—come help.”
Teng Bi paused for a moment, set his broadsword outside the kitchen wall, and hesitantly stepped inside.
Jiang Luo handed him an eggplant and told Ye Xun to cut up the other ingredients, while he went to wash the rice and start the cooker.
Jiang Luo didn’t exactly love cooking, but focusing on one task helped quiet his mind. Before he started working, he used to immerse himself in drawing blueprints. But after it became his job, staring at a computer all day left him mentally exhausted.
So, Jiang Luo had started learning to cook.
“Learning” was mostly watching tutorial videos. He seemed to have some natural talent for it—over the years, what began as a way to feed himself had become a skill he could confidently show off.
As he poured out the rice water, he heard the sound of a kitchen knife clattering to the counter behind him—more than once. He turned to look and saw a chaotic mess on the cutting board.
Teng Bi, being someone who played with blades, had neatly sliced his eggplant. But Ye Xun’s skills were another matter—scallion bits flew everywhere, and the garlic was crushed into a pulp.
Jiang Luo: “…Forget it. You two go wash the veggies and clean the dishes.”
Teng Bi awkwardly joined Ye Xun at the sink.
Ye Xun whispered, “Jiang Luo’s cooking is really good.”
Teng Bi said, “Undead don’t need to eat.”
Ye Xun smiled with satisfaction. “Then I can eat your share.”
Teng Bi: “…” Humans are truly difficult to like.
Once everything was prepped, Jiang Luo got to work. The aroma from the kitchen was strong and rich—it instantly awakened their appetites.
The two dishes and one soup were soon ready. Ye Xun and Teng Bi carried the food, bowls, and utensils to the coffee table by the hospital bed.
Jiang Luo sat in the middle. Just as he was about to eat a piece of stir-fried pork, pain shot through his mouth as it touched his lips—his expression twisted for a second. He remembered: he had internal injuries. No spicy or greasy food allowed.
He’d cooked the meal but couldn’t eat it.
Jiang Luo took a deep breath, then calmly served himself a bowl of rice and poured over some rich egg drop soup.
Seeing the others watching him, he smiled and said, “I’ll just have some soup first. You guys eat.”
Tempted by the delicious smells, Lu Youyi even woke up midway and ate two bowls of rice before falling back asleep again—like a happy pig.
By the time everything settled down, it was nearly 4 a.m. The sky outside was beginning to lighten.
Teng Bi stood guard on the sofa, holding his broadsword. Even in modern clothes, he resembled an ancient general seated cross-legged on a battlefield, silently standing watch over the front lines.
There was a solemnity about him, as if he had come through the sands of time—windblown, battle-worn, and deeply alone.
Jiang Luo laid on the companion bed, gazing at Teng Bi’s back. His eyes flickered faintly.
“Dead Ghost,” he said softly, “when did your blade start following you from?”
Teng Bi shook his head. “I don’t remember.”
He rubbed the hilt of the large blade wrapped in black cloth, truly unable to recall when it had first started accompanying him. Teng Bi sat up and said, “You should sleep now.”
Jiang Luo smiled. “Good night.”
***
Jiang Luo slept lightly. The moment his phone rang, he opened his eyes immediately.
“Hello?” The black-haired young man curled up sideways under the blanket, his entire body buried in the bedding and his hair.
His voice was slightly hoarse, with a lazy tone.
Wenren Lian’s cheerful voice came through, “Still not awake?”
“I’m awake now,” Jiang Luo yawned and spoke with his eyes still closed, “What is it?”
“Good news,” Wenren Lian said. “The government and the Heavenly Master Residence have jointly stepped in to suppress any news about you.”
“Now, you can’t find a single word about you online—not even search suggestions or related tags. Your photos have been completely erased, and even if someone had saved them, it wouldn’t help… When the state acts, it’s guaranteed and swift,” Wenren Lian sighed. “Jiang Luo, you don’t know how many people in the circle are dying to build connections with the Heavenly Master Residence. As soon as they hinted at it, anyone who had ever shared a post about you deleted it immediately. No one dares to say a word now.”
Very soon, Jiang Luo would disappear from the entertainment world entirely, never to be found again.
Jiang Luo went online to check, and sure enough, everything was calm. He couldn’t find anything related to himself.
He thought for a moment and clicked into Qin Fan’s Weibo. The previous post was already gone, and the comments were peaceful and quiet.
Jiang Luo nodded in satisfaction and was just about to exit, when he watched, in real time, Qin Fan’s Weibo update with a new post:
【@Qin Fan: A delightful day.】
Just five simple characters, and the comment count surged rapidly. Jiang Luo stared at the words, getting the distinct impression they were meant for him.
D*mn it.
The image of Chi You smiling as he said that line flashed through his mind—smiling like a devil, arrogant and condescending, that handsome face practically screaming “punch me.” In Jiang Luo’s eyes, every stroke of those five characters was dripping with mockery.
He registered a new account, went back to the comments section, and typed two words: “Idiot.”
Instantly, a swarm of Qin Fan’s fans flooded into the replies.
Jiang Luo couldn’t be bothered with them. He snorted and chuckled, feeling much better. Climbing out of bed, he asked, “Where are you guys now?”
“I’m with Kuang Zheng on the way to find you,” Wenren Lian said, taking off his sunglasses and looking out at the scenery rushing by outside the car window. “Ye Xun told me last night—Little Pink lost control, Lu Youyi got hurt, and you got bitten by a dog. I’m here to comfort the wounded, and Kuang Zheng’s here to repair Little Pink.”
He added, “We’ll talk more when we get to the hospital. What do you want to eat?”
Jiang Luo asked him to bring lunch, then hung up.
Taking advantage of the time, he took a shower. When he came out, Ye Xun and Lu Youyi were sitting together watching TV.
Jiang Luo laid down on the sofa to rest for a while. Ye Xun walked over and began towel-drying his hair. Jiang Luo enjoyed the relaxing sensation on his scalp and lazily said, “Ye Xun, I get the feeling the chief director is really afraid of you. He’s always so respectful when facing you.”
“I kinda got the same feeling,” Ye Xun said seriously. “Yesterday, before you came to the hospital, I asked him about it. He stammered and said he was afraid I’d eat his soul.”
Jiang Luo found that phrase vaguely familiar. “Why would you eat his soul?”
Ye Xun shook his head. “I don’t know. He even called me ‘Your Excellency.’”
Jiang Luo: “…”
Suddenly, he remembered the nonsense he had once made up about being a “58-year-old college student who likes to devour fresh and dead souls and pretends to be young” to fool the owner of Hotel 129.
He chuckled awkwardly. “Really? Hahaha.”
Where on earth was the chief director getting these rumors about the metaphysical world? They were so unreliable!
