Day: November 29, 2024

Chapter 71

       Even though Pei Qing said that, Zhan Weiyang still felt uneasy. He couldn’t understand how things had been fine in the morning, but by the afternoon, Pei Qing suddenly decided to leave.

       Zhan Weiyang was a little flustered, but this kind of panic was not necessarily morbid. It might also be because he had just drunk coffee, and his heartbeat was a little erratic.

       He began to think whether he had a way to keep Pei Qing and not let him go.

       Zhan Weiyang had tried very hard, but his not-so-bright little head couldn’t come up with any good ideas.

       When it got dark, the New Year’s Eve dinner officially began.

       The sound of the TV in the living room outside was still ringing, and the dining table in the dining room was already filled with steaming hot meals.

       The whole family sat around the dining table. Zhan Pengcheng first asked everyone to sit down, then took out the wine from the wine cabinet and enthusiastically poured it on everyone.

       Zhan Weiyang was sent to sit at the small table, and he couldn’t help turning his head to look at Pei Qing.

       Perhaps the action was too obvious, Zhan Weiguang, who was sitting next to him, said, “What are you doing?”

       “Huh?” Zhan Weiyang looked at him.

       Zhan Weiguang tapped the plate in front of him with chopsticks and said, “Just eat well. Why are you looking around?”

       Zhan Weiyang whispered, “Don’t bother me.”

       Zhan Xueqing sat opposite Zhan Weiyang. She had not spoken all night, but now she looked up at him.

       Zhan Weiyang thought of Pei Qing’s departure again, and he had no appetite for food.

       Zhan Xiusong sat next to him, quickly finishing the sweet and sour pork ribs on the plate in front of him. For him, today was New Year’s Eve, and this kind of New Year’s Day should give his body, which had worked hard to lose weight, a holiday, so he made an agreement with himself that he could eat as much as he wanted on the last day of this year and continue to lose weight next year.

       Zhan Weiguang saw that the sweet and sour pork ribs on the plate were quickly finished, and he couldn’t help but stretch out his chopsticks to pick up one for Zhan Weiyang and put it in the bowl.

       Zhan Weiyang’s attention was obviously not focused, and he didn’t react at all.

       Zhan Weiguang said, “Isn’t it the sweet and sour spareribs you like?” In his impression, Zhan Weiyang likes all sweet and sour food.

       Zhan Weiyang then looked down and said to Zhan Weiguang calmly, “Thank you.”

       For some reason, Zhan Weiguang felt as if something had suddenly choked him. Unhappily, he said, “Eat it if you want; I don’t care.”

       At this time, Zhan Weiyang turned his head to look at Pei Qing, who was sitting next to the big table. Pei Qing was toasting Zhan Pengcheng. He looked like an adult with an adult smile on his face.

       Pei Jingrong said beside him, “Pei Qing has caused you too much trouble in the past six months.”

       Zhan Pengcheng said, “No way. When I was away, it was Pei Qing who helped me take care of Yangyang and grandma. This glass of wine should be toasted to him.”

       They drank the wine with mutual courtesy.

       When Pei Qing sat down, Pei Jingrong said, “After the Chinese New Year, Pei Qing will go back with us.”

       Zhan Pengcheng was a little surprised, “Is Pei Qing leaving too?”

       Pei Jingrong did not answer for Pei Qing but just looked at him.

       Pei Qing’s slender fingers were still holding the edge of the wine glass. He was silent for a while and said to Zhan Pengcheng, “Yes, my internship here has ended. I was supposed to return to school next semester to handle graduation and job matters, and with the New Year coming up, it’s also a good time to go back and see relatives and friends.”

       Zhan Pengcheng nodded, “That’s right.”

       Zhan Weiyang kept looking at them without turning back. He heard Pei Qing’s words, and his disappointment and sadness were written on his face.

       Zhan Xueqing, who was sitting opposite him, put down his chopsticks and looked at him.

       Zhan Weiguang also noticed his expression and asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

       Zhan Weiyang put down his chopsticks and said to Zhan Weiguang, “I don’t want to eat anymore.”

       Zhan Weiguang frowned, “Why do you suddenly not want to eat? It’s Chinese New Year today, and there are so many guests at home, don’t be angry.”

       Zhan Weiyang opened his mouth but couldn’t say anything. At this time, he realised that Zhan Xueqing was looking at him. Even Zhan Xiusong, who had never stopped eating, was looking at him while gnawing on chicken wings. He thought that what Zhan Weiguang said actually made sense. It was Chinese New Year at home today, and there were so many guests. It would be very rude for him not to eat well. So he picked up the chopsticks and the bowl and said listlessly, “Then I’ll eat.”

       He looked at the dishes on the table and didn’t think there was anything he wanted to eat, so he took the bowl directly to the kitchen to add more rice for himself. He filled a full bowl, came back to the table, sat down, and showed his bowl to Zhan Weiguang.

       Zhan Weiguang said, “What are you doing?”

       Zhan Weiyang said, “I’m eating.” After that, he really buried his head and started to use chopsticks to pick up the white rice in the bowl.

       While eating, he thought carefully. What Pei Qing said actually made sense. He would always go back after the internship, and now that it was the Chinese New Year, he should go back to visit his grandmother too, right?

       There was no reason for him to ask Pei Qing to stay, but when would Pei Qing come back after he left? Would he not see Pei Qing in the six months, or would Pei Qing stay there to work after graduation and would not come back after the past six months? Would he have to wait until next year’s New Year to see Pei Qing again?

       Thinking of this, Zhan Weiyang felt scared at first, and then a wave of sadness came over his heart, and sad emotions kept coming up.

       When Zhan Xiusong leaned over to get toilet paper to wipe the oil off his hands, his eyes suddenly caught something in Zhan Weiyang’s rice bowl. He turned his head to see and found that Zhan Weiyang was crying.

       Zhan Weiyang continued to eat silently, crying silently. All his tears fell into his bowl and seeped into the snow-white and soft rice.

       “Why are you crying?” Zhan Xiusong was puzzled.

       Zhan Weiyang glanced at him and said nothing.

       Zhan Weiguang’s attention was drawn to him. He pinched Zhan Weiyang’s face and asked him to turn around to face himself. He was stunned and asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

       Zhan Weiyang lowered his eyes to look at his bowl. There was only a little rice left in it. He scooped all the rice into his mouth, chewed it hard, swallowed it, and asked Zhan Weiguang, “Can I leave?”

       Zhan Weiguang still asked, “What’s wrong?”

       Zhan Weiyang said, “Then I’ll leave first.” After that, he stood up and walked out of the dining room.

       Zhan Pengcheng noticed it and called him loudly, “Yangyang!”

       Zhan Weiyang didn’t answer and had already walked out of the dining room.

       Zhan Pengcheng asked Zhan Weiguang, “What happened to your brother? Go and see!”

       Zhan Weiguang put down his chopsticks and was about to get up when Pei Qing said, “I’ll go.”

       After that, Pei Qing got up and left the dining room.

       Zhan Pengcheng still felt uneasy. At this time, Zhan Yingfei persuaded him, “It’s okay. Pei Qing is a sensible child. Let him go and see. Don’t worry too much.”

       After Zhan Weiyang came out of the dining room, he passed the living room and went up the stairs to the second floor. He stood at the stairs for a while, pushed open the balcony door and walked out.

       The temperature outside was very low. He was only wearing a thin long-sleeved shirt and stood in a daze on the empty balcony.

       The neighbourhood was quieter than usual, but from time to time, you could hear the sound from the dining room downstairs. It was the sound of the adults at home laughing and talking while eating and drinking. Then there was the faint sound of music coming from the single-family villa farther away.

       Zhan Weiyang wasn’t actually thinking about anything. His mind was blank; he was just too sad and needed to catch his breath.

       But soon, he heard footsteps coming out from inside, and then someone put a soft down jacket on his shoulders.

       Pei Qing’s voice sounded, “Put on more clothes.”

       Zhan Weiyang looked up and looked at him in the light of the street lamp.

       Pei Qing chased up from downstairs, and when he saw Zhan Weiyang standing on the balcony, he immediately went back to the room to get him clothes. Now he grabbed Zhan Weiyang’s arm and put the sleeves of the down jacket on him like putting clothes on a child. When the clothes were put on, he carefully zipped them up and pulled them all the way to Zhan Weiyang’s chin.

       Zhan Weiyang’s face still had traces of crying.

       Pei Qing lifted his hand, wiped it with his fingers and asked, “Why did you cry?”

       Zhan Weiyang said, “I’m sad.”

       Pei Qing asked him, “Because I said I was leaving?”

       Zhan Weiyang nodded, he pressed his chest with one hand, and said, “I feel so bad. What should I do?”

       Pei Qing looked at him and found that Zhan Weiyang’s eyes began to redden again, and he looked like he was about to cry.

       Perhaps it was the special night of family reunions and festive lights that stirred something deep within Pei Qing. He found himself recalling many people and events from his past—his parents’ cold war before their divorce, the awkwardness of suddenly having strangers become family after his father’s remarriage and even the confusion he felt during adolescence when he discovered his attraction to the same sex. He had faced all those emotions alone, enduring them on his own and believing that they didn’t matter. But did they really not matter?

       Pei Qing looked down at Zhan Weiyang and smiled very lightly. Zhan Weiyang asked him, “Why are you smiling?”

       Pei Qing said, “Do you want to cry? Do you want to cry for a while?”

       Zhan Weiyang asked, “Can I?”

       Pei Qing nodded, “Yes.”

       Zhan Weiyang hugged Pei Qing’s waist, buried his face in his chest, and cried sadly. Pei Qing hugged Zhan Weiyang, patted his back gently, raised his head and felt the cold wind blowing on his face, but his eyes were slightly hot.


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Chapter 94 – Buried under the Wutong tree

Chapter 94 (Extra 16)

 

Flat Top Mountain.

 

Clouds gather and disperse, gentle breeze caresses.

 

At the end of spring, wild grasses are still flourishing. A group of brown-gray wild chickens flap their wings, clucking as they search for food across the mountains. Those wild chickens who have already cultivated their forms no longer forage on the ground but instead fish in the streams or gather fruits in the woods.

 

A group of young chicken demons dressed in hemp clothes, carrying fruit baskets, walk along playfully. Upon seeing something, they cover their mouths and exchange glances, whispering quietly.

 

“That strange chicken is sitting on the mountaintop in a daze again.”

 

“She’s getting old. Instead of idling like this, why doesn’t she find a mate? Who knows if she can still lay eggs.”

 

“She’s always out of it. None of the males in the clan dare to get close to her.”

 

Although the chicken demons speak in hushed tones, every word reaches Luo Hui’s ears clearly.

 

Luo Hui glances at them, stands up, and spreads her wings with a flap, stirring up a cloud of dust.

 

Several chicken demons are instantly surrounded by dust, waving their hands and coughing. After the strong wind passes, they all look disheveled.

 

*Cough cough.*

 

“Who’s there?”

 

They look up at the mountaintop, intending to confront Luo Hui, but she has already disappeared.

 

Several chicken demons are infuriated, their faces pale.

 

“Weird chicken!”

 

“No wonder she can’t get married!”

 

*

 

Luo Hui flaps her wings and lands at the foot of the mountain. She meets several rooster demons who have just returned after catching fish, hearing them talk about an eagle demon that fell and got charred near Yuqiang Lake.

 

When the eagle fell, it created a pit over ten feet deep.

 

The clan members dared only to stand at the edge of the pit, watching without approaching. They planned to wait until the eagle demon’s corpse rotted before burying it on the spot.

 

Luo Hui walks with a heavy heart, thinking about the mocking words of the chicken demons earlier. She truly feels that she might never get married.

 

On her deathbed, her mother held her hand and told her she must marry a true dragon or a divine phoenix to continue the clan’s bloodline, lest it perish completely.

 

But where does she even meet such lofty true dragons and divine phoenixes now?

 

Sighing, she kicks a stray branch on the ground and lifts her head, only to realize she has unwittingly walked to the edge of Yuqiang Lake. Before her lies the deep pit the rooster demons were discussing earlier.

 

Thin wisps of smoke rise from the deep pit, emitting a charred smell that’s quite unpleasant.

 

No wonder the chicken demons avoid this place.

 

She originally wanted to cover her nose and leave, but she vaguely senses a faint breath still lingering in the pit. Furrowing her brow, she covers her nose and approaches the pit.

 

In the pitch-black pit lies a creature charred black beyond recognition.

 

Could this be the “eagle demon” spoken of by her people?

 

She casts a spell to turn the “eagle demon” over. It seems to feel pain as a muffled groan emanates from its chest, startling her into retracting her hand quickly. She didn’t expect this “eagle demon” to still have a faint sign of life.

 

Without further thought, she jumps into the deep pit. The eagle demon has been burned badly, its entire body emitting a smell of singed feathers.

 

She reaches out to the eagle demon’s neck, thinking it might not have much time left, only to find its pulse surprisingly strong. There’s still a chance to save it.

 

She takes out a handkerchief, covers her nose, and then carefully lifts the charred eagle demon onto her back. With a flick of magic, the two of them return in an instant to her small wooden house.

 

The eagle demon lies on the ground, revealing a long, slender neck.

 

She examines it closely and whispers softly, “An eagle’s neck doesn’t look like this.”

 

This slender neck resembles that of a swan.

 

Could it be a swan demon?

 

She inspected his body, flipping open his wings, and suddenly noticed a glimmer of gold amidst the charred feathers. She carefully plucked at his feathers and was astonished to find a patch of feathers not burnt black but gleaming gold!

 

Suppressing her excitement, she checked the feathers on his tail. The blaze had scorched them head-on, so unlike those on his chest, the feathers here were completely charred.

 

Peeling back the layer of dark feathers, she uncovered layers of golden feathers interlaced with brown patterns resembling ancient characters.

 

The pattern on the forehead resembled “virtue,” on the wings “righteousness,” on the back “propriety,” and on the chest “trust.”

 

Though the characters were now indiscernible, they hinted at his identity.

 

He was a phoenix!

 

Not some eagle demon or swan demon at all!

 

Luo Hui couldn’t believe a phoenix had fallen among the wild chickens, burned into this sorry state. Wasn’t it said that phoenixes undergo rebirth through fire? They shouldn’t fear fire.

 

Ignoring her curiosity, she hurriedly went to the mountain doctor to buy medicine. Returning, she tried to feed the phoenix with water, but he refused to drink!

 

She forcefully pried open his mouth and shoved the medicine down his throat, but he still wouldn’t swallow. Perplexed, she sought help from the mountain doctor, who advised her not to use ordinary water but morning dew to feed the phoenix. Only then did he swallow the medicine obediently.

 

Sure enough, after feeding him with morning dew, the phoenix, nearly burned to ashes, needed such delicate treatment.

 

Why was he so delicate?

 

Back when she fled for her life with her mother, they caught and ate insects. Who cared about such things then?

 

She administered the medicine for several days, combined with the phoenix’s own healing abilities. Three days later, right before her eyes, the phoenix transformed into human form.

 

In human form, the phoenix was no longer dark and charred but fair and strong, with muscles bursting with strength. Though his eyes were tightly closed, his handsome and dignified features were still evident. Lying naked on the bed, he resembled a work of art.

 

She was stunned, her gaze lingering on the phoenix. She knew that males of the phoenix clan were handsome, but she never expected him to be this striking.

 

His facial contours were flawless, as was his physique, with long arms and slender legs, and in between…

 

Blushing, Luo Hui reached out and covered him with a blanket.

 

Until then, she had hesitated about whether to bear children with this charred phoenix.

 

After all, a charred phoenix was still a phoenix.

 

But upon seeing his appearance, she made up her mind.

 

It was him.

 

This face, coupled with hers, could undoubtedly produce the most noble and beautiful child in heaven and earth.

 

Thus, when Si Shaoxun awakened from the depths of chaos, before he even opened his eyes, he heard a clear female voice in his ears.

 

“I saved you. You must marry me.”

 

Si Shaoxun opened his eyes, his vision gradually clearing, and he saw a girl in black armor. She had tied her hair into a ponytail behind her head, a few strands falling from her temples. Her gentle smile adorned her brows and eyes, and her lips moved slightly before him.

 

“Do you know how much I lost to care for you?” The girl counted on her fingers. “To buy medicine for you, I spent all my gold. To heal you, I lost half of my cultivation. And at home, I cared for you for seven days without going out to hunt, depleting our stored winter provisions. So now you owe me.”

 

Si Shaoxun regained his composure, surveying his surroundings with a clear understanding of the situation. Sitting up in bed, he suddenly realized he was completely unclothed under the sheets.

 

“…” Si Shaoxun remained silent.

 

Seeing his frozen state, Luo Hui explained, “There are no men’s clothes in my house, so I didn’t have anything for you to wear. Besides, you’ve been lying in bed, so there was no need for clothes.”

 

“…” Si Shaoxun said nothing.

 

For some reason, a hint of awkwardness flickered in his eyes.

 

How could this wild chicken spirit be so audacious? Keeping a naked man in her home like this!

 

He conjured up a snow-white robe, tightened its collar, and then uncovered himself.

 

Luo Hui reached out to help him, fearing he might be unsteady, but he avoided her touch without changing his expression.

 

“Is this the demon realm?” His voice, low and oddly magnetic, was unexpectedly pleasant to hear.

 

Luo Hui nodded.

 

Si Shaoxun had been subduing the Chi Kiss, already binding it, when it suddenly self-destructed, engulfing him in the Three Clear Flames that burned fiercely.

 

Already injured, he extinguished the flames but sustained serious wounds, causing him to fall unconscious from the Pingding Mountain.

 

Reflecting on this, he thanked Luo Hui and promised to show his gratitude with a grand gift upon returning to the Ninth Heaven.

 

Unexpectedly, Luo Hui hesitated before refusing, “No, I have only one condition: you must marry me.”

 

“…” Si Shaoxun couldn’t hide his surprise.

 

Si Shaoxun couldn’t help but look up at Luo Hui. Though bold celestial maidens were not rare in the heavenly realms, he had never encountered such a straightforward and uninhibited woman.

 

Meeting Si Shaoxun’s gaze, Luo Hui blushed slowly.

 

Couldn’t resist.

 

This man was just too good-looking.

 

Si Shaoxun averted his eyes, his expression unreadable. “Marriage is no trivial matter. It shouldn’t be decided so lightly.”

 

“How could it be trivial? I saved you, you should repay me. It’s only right and proper.” Luo Hui insisted.

 

Si Shaoxun pursed his lips, feeling their conversation was going nowhere. After a silent moment, he proposed that he could repay her in any other way except marriage.

 

But Luo Hui wouldn’t back down, and Si Shaoxun fell silent.

 

His injuries were nearly healed, and in a few days, he would leave this place. He planned to discuss how to repay Luo Hui at that time.

 

Before dawn, Luo Hui got up early, preparing to go out.

 

Listening to the faint sounds outside the folding screen, Si Shaoxun couldn’t help asking, “What are you going out to do?”

 

“To collect morning dew.” Luo Hui replied, carrying a basket and a bottle, her figure disappearing into the darkness.

 

She didn’t return until nearly noon, pouring out the collected morning dew into a bottle and placing it in front of Si Shaoxun. She then sat down to nibble on wild fruits.

 

Si Shaoxun had thought that after repeatedly declining her marriage proposal, she might be upset, but he hadn’t expected her to still be so considerate.

 

He remained silent. She seemed to recall something and furrowed her brows, asking, “What’s your name?”

 

“Si Shaoxun.”

 

Luo Hui’s eyes widened in disbelief as she looked at Si Shaoxun. She had heard this name countless times.

 

Nowadays, descendants of the Phoenix clan in the Six Realms were rare, especially the Divine Phoenixes. In recent years, there had only been one Divine Phoenix born in the Phoenix clan.

 

Thus, this Divine Phoenix was also hailed as the last Divine Phoenix of the Six Realms.

 

His name was Si Shaoxun.

 

Seeing Luo Hui’s astonished expression, Si Shaoxun calmly said, “What’s the matter?”

 

“Nothing much, I just feel like I should marry you.” With that said, Luo Hui gnawed on wild fruits, lowering her head in thought.

 

“…” Si Shaoxun was speechless.

 

Si Shaoxun felt like he was being targeted by a hungry wolf. He planned to leave after resting tonight, but what he didn’t expect was that he would fall into her trap that very night.

 

He heard Luo Hui’s cry for help from the creek behind the mountain. Without much thought, he immediately flew over and stood on the water’s surface. Suddenly, Luo Hui stood up from the water and hugged him tightly from behind.

 

Before he could react, Luo Hui turned around and kissed the corner of his lips, passing some breath into his mouth.

 

Her brows and eyes were adorned with water droplets as she gently held his face. Her deep black eyes stared directly into his, “I just cast a love curse on you.”

 

“You…”

 

“You have no choice but to love me, to want me.”

 

Luo Hui kissed the corner of his lips. Perhaps due to the love curse taking effect, he intended to push her away, but instead of doing so, he was pulled into the water by her.

 

The passionate surge, hotter than the Chi Kiss’s flames, roared within him. Facing Luo Hui’s gaze, he felt the warmth and softness of her naked body against him, inch by inch losing his composure.

 

 

When Si Shaoxun woke up, Luo Hui was still asleep.

 

He silently watched the sleeping figure for a while before getting up. Luo Hui reached out and grabbed his waist, her fingers not quite behaving, feeling around his abdomen.

 

“…” He was speechless.

 

Her salty hands left a bunch of marks on him.

 

Were all demon women this bold?

 

He pushed her hand away and fastened his clothes, “I need to visit the Divine Phoenix clan first.”

 

She opened her blurry eyes and mumbled unclearly, “Will you come back?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Luo Hui waited for Si Shaoxun on Pingding Mountain for over a month but didn’t see him return. Instead, she heard gossip from the chicken demons in her clan, saying that Heaven had arranged a marriage between the Divine Phoenix clan and the Divine Phoenix clan, with Si Shaoxun marrying Princess Zhu.

 

Knowing that Si Shaoxun didn’t really like her, she figured his promise to return was just to placate her. Thus, in this month-long period, Si Shaoxun did not send her any letters.

 

She didn’t blame Si Shaoxun. She only wanted to borrow his seed.

 

If she didn’t get it, she would just find another target.

 

But if she did get it…

 

Luo Hui touched her abdomen, caught in a dilemma. With her cultivation, she couldn’t protect the child herself, so she needed to find the child’s father for protection.

 

A few days later, Luo Hui noticed her abdomen slightly bulging and her body showing unusual symptoms. Unable to tolerate any meaty smells, she went to a mountain doctor for an examination and indeed found out she was pregnant!

 

The old mountain doctor stroked his beard leisurely, “The egg in your belly seems unusually large.”

 

Of course, it was unusually large. This was the child of Yujia and the Divine Phoenix!

 

Luo Hui immediately exclaimed in excitement, “Doctor, are you sure I’m pregnant?”

 

“Yes.” The old mountain doctor hesitated for a moment. It was the first time he had seen an old hen so excited about laying an egg, as if she had laid a phoenix egg.

 

Before he could tell Luo Hui that there was still an egg in her belly that had not yet formed, she hurriedly thanked him and left.

 

Luo Hui went back to pack her things and, without stopping, went to the Ninth Heaven to find Si Shaoxun.

 

Little did she expect that she would give birth to the egg halfway there.

 

This egg was about eight or nine times larger than a normal chicken egg and looked exactly like an ordinary egg, with differences that could only be seen with careful observation.

 

Inside the eggshell, faint silver light seeped through. The silver interior was the true appearance of the Yu Jia egg.

 

The outer shell, as hard as iron, evolved over many years to camouflage and protect the Yu Jia egg.

 

She carried the egg, ascended through the Nine Heavens, and inquired about the position of the Phoenix Clan, heading straight there.

 

But within moments, the entire Nine Heavens buzzed with gossip. A wild chicken had come looking for Si Shao Xun, intending to use the chicken egg to assert its position.

 

 

Inside the great hall, Luo Hui carefully pulled out the chicken egg and showed it to Si Shao Xun and the members of the Phoenix Clan.

 

Si Shao Xun gazed at the unusually large egg in silence.

 

Luo Hui awkwardly explained, “You’re a divine phoenix, so you’re larger. That’s why this egg is bigger than usual.”

 

Before Si Shao Xun could speak, other members of the Phoenix Clan couldn’t help but rebuke Luo Hui.

 

“Where did this wild chicken come from? Claiming this egg is a descendant of our Phoenix Clan?”

 

“If you’re going to deceive, at least put in some effort. Our Phoenix Clan’s eggs don’t look like this at all, and furthermore…” The person didn’t finish their sentence, glancing at Si Shao Xun before continuing, “Our clan leader has never been interested in women, not even the celestial maidens. Why would he be fond of such a wild chicken like you?”

 

“That’s enough.” Si Shao Xun glanced at the person, who immediately fell silent. Si Shao Xun stepped forward, about to touch the egg, but Luo Hui quickly hid it again, afraid Si Shao Xun would discover something.

 

“This egg mustn’t cool down. I’ve wrapped it in cloth to maintain its temperature. In a little while, the child will be ready to hatch.”

 

Si Shao Xun said nothing, his gaze falling on Luo Hui’s disheveled hair and weary face. He instructed her to rest first.

 

She didn’t lie; indeed, the egg needed to be wrapped in cloth to maintain its warmth.

 

After Si Shao Xun arranged for her to stay, he didn’t come to see her for quite some time. She then reverted to her original form, closed her eyes, folded her wings, and sat on the bed incubating the egg.

 

Perhaps feeling uneasy, she dreamed of fleeing with her mother.

 

Her mother had also married a male phoenix, and shortly thereafter gave birth to her. The male phoenix treated her mother and her very well. Her mother thought that after so many years of marriage, the male phoenix was worth relying on, so she told him about her being a descendant of the Yu Jia blood.

 

As a result, that very night, the male phoenix’s face changed. He planned to kill her and drink her blood to ascend to the Ninth Heaven as a divine phoenix. He even advised her mother to have another child in the future.

 

Only then did her mother realize that so-called deep affection was no match for material gain. She took her and fled, both forced to the brink of despair.

 

Her mother told her that it must end, that news of the surviving Yu Jia tribe must not be known to anyone.

 

Her mother also said that the Yu Jia tribe must not perish, and she must continue the Yu Jia bloodline, not repeating her mistakes.

 

Above all, she must not trust those closest to her.

 

Finally, her mother embraced the male phoenix, and they perished together.

 

Luo Hui recalled this, a tear falling from her eye.

 

A hand with distinct bones wiped away her tears, a deep voice resonating above her head, instantly waking her from her dream.

 

“Why are you crying?”

 

“Ah… I…” Luo Hui was caught off guard, opening her eyes to meet Si Shao Xun’s gaze.

 

Si Shao Xun’s eyes were pitch black, with an unmistakable hint of scrutiny. She remembered her mother’s advice from the dream, pursed her lips, and explained, “I… I just thought of what the Phoenix Clan said earlier. Husband, would you also despise me and our child as mere wild chickens like others?”

 

“No.” After a pause, Si Shao Xun’s expression suddenly grew cold. “What did you call me?”

 

“Husband…” Luo Hui blinked.

 

“…”

 

Si Shao Xun seemed somewhat angry, furrowing his brows and glaring at Luo Hui before turning and leaving.

 

Luo Hui noticed the peculiar reddening at the base of Si Shao Xun’s ears and couldn’t help but add, “We already have a child together. Naturally, you are my husband, and I am your wife.”

 

Si Shao Xun’s footsteps quickened.

 

After teasing Si Shao Xun, Luo Hui chuckled and transformed back into human form. Just as she hid the egg away, the door suddenly burst open.

 

Before she could react, she was seized by a strange figure. When she woke up, she found herself imprisoned in an underwater dungeon.

 

Her hands were bound to wooden stakes with iron ropes inscribed with runes. Water submerged her from the chest down, her feet unable to touch the bottom. The pitch-black water revealed strange creatures floating within.

 

She screamed in fright, struggling to escape. However, the water itself was enchanted; any movement caused silver ripples to lash at her like elongated whips.

 

“Father, are you sure she’s Si Shao Xun’s beloved?”

 

“Of course. Otherwise, with Si Shao Xun’s temperament, why would he keep a wild chicken in his palace?”

 

“Let’s see now what her position is in Si Shao Xun’s heart. We thought joining forces with Chi Wen could kill Si Shao Xun, but he survived the Three Clearings’ intense flames.”

 

“Even if he survives, Father won’t let him take your position as clan leader.”

 

“Thank you, Father.”

 

 

Luo Hui faintly heard the conversation echoing around her. She lifted her head to locate the voices but saw nothing.

 

She had been confined in the water dungeon for three days, but her main concern was the egg. She had placed it in the Qiankun bag, unsure if Si Shao Xun would find it.

 

He must see it.

 

Just like a chicken egg, a Yu Jia egg needed continuous nurturing. If the nest was disturbed midway, the egg would turn cold and perish.

 

 

Luo Hui’s breath gradually weakened, and she drifted into unconsciousness. When she regained awareness, she heard the sound of water stirring. She fluttered her eyelashes, opened her eyes, and saw the water before her seeming to part as if with a life of its own, splitting into two sides.

 

A man in white robes trembled as he embraced her. She fell into his arms, hearing his voice by her ear.

 

“Luo Hui.”

 

She hadn’t told him her name. How did he know?

 

She parted her lips, and he lowered his head. She faintly heard a few words.

 

“Qiankun bag… egg…”

 

“It’s fine.”

 

Only then did Luo Hui relax and close her eyes.

 

Si Shao Xun’s gaze gradually lowered, noticing blood staining her skirt. The former water dungeon also bore faint traces of red.

 

The celestial physician informed him that she had recently developed an egg in her belly, now lost due to the cold.

 

His lips tightened, eyes darkening. After taking care of Luo Hui, he left the palace with a long sword.

 

He never cared for the position of Phoenix Clan leader.

 

Yet now, because of that position, Luo Hui was injured and he had lost a child.

 

It was all despicable.

 

 

Luo Hui woke up three days later. As she regained consciousness, she instinctively searched for the Qiankun bag by the bedside. Not finding it, she instead saw her egg safely placed inside a jade vessel at room temperature.

 

She quickly hugged the egg, as if holding a rare treasure recovered from loss. Sniffling, she leaned down and planted a heavy kiss on the eggshell.

 

“Sob, you scared Mama. Mama thought she’d never see you again.” Luo Hui kissed the eggshell a few more times.

 

She had no idea that during her time in the water dungeon, she had lost a child forever.

 

Si Shaoxun found that she was unaware of this matter, smiling foolishly all day long, so he concealed the truth from her, unable to bear to tell her the reality.

 

She had originally thought that by coming to the Ninth Heaven, she could live a luxurious life with her husband. However, she didn’t expect that Si Shaoxun would suddenly fall into darkness!

 

Si Shaoxun killed the current chief of the Phoenix Clan and his son. The Phoenix Clan was both fearful and resentful. To appease his anger, they planned to appoint him as the new clan chief. However, he refused. In a fit of anger, he left the Ninth Heaven and went to the Demon Realm.

 

Luo Hui’s dream of a beautiful life collapsed. She was forced to clutch at straws and follow Si Shaoxun to the Demon Realm.

 

“Did you kill them to avenge me?”

 

“No,” Si Shaoxun replied calmly. “They originally conspired against me with the hand of Chiwen, and deserved to die.”

 

Fortunately, soon after Si Shaoxun turned into a demon, he quickly defeated Chu Shanjun and became the new Demon Lord.

 

Luo Hui began to live another kind of luxurious life. Under her daily “egg teaching,” not long after, their child hatched from the egg.

 

Everything was just as she had imagined. This child inherited one hundred percent of Yu Jia’s bloodline and disguised itself as a wild chicken upon birth.

 

A pitch-black little wild chicken flapped its wings vigorously and took small steps, crawling out of the eggshell.

 

Luo Hui’s heart melted, unable to help but look at Si Shaoxun. Si Shaoxun’s expression remained calm and indifferent, without any emotional fluctuations as he looked at the little wild chicken, as if seeing a fruit on a tree.

 

She silently criticized him for being heartless, but on the surface, she fluttered into Si Shaoxun’s arms, one hand resting on his strong chest.

 

“A divine phoenix rules the Demon Realm, domineering and imposing. But a wild chicken ruling the Demon Realm is quite ironic. So, in order for our son to inherit your position properly in the future, I want to conceal his true identity and publicly declare him as a little divine phoenix.”

 

Si Shaoxun remained silent, his gaze fixed on the chirping little wild chicken, his thoughts inscrutable.

 

After a while, Si Shaoxun pushed away Luo Hui’s salty pig hand and said, “As you wish.”

 

Luo Hui was overjoyed. She didn’t expect this Ninth Heaven divine phoenix to be so easily deceived.

 

“Do you have anything to say to me?” Si Shaoxun asked.

 

“No, nothing.”

 

She cast an illusion to instantly transform the true form of the little wild chicken into the appearance of a little divine phoenix. The little wild chicken seemed dissatisfied, clucking and flapping its wings.

 

She smiled and patted the little wild chicken’s head, tossing a fat earthworm over.

 

“…”

 

“Husband, do you want to give our child a name?”

 

“As you wish.”

 

Just these two words again.

 

Luo Hui pouted and turned to Si Shaoxun, saying, “Mother hopes that you will grow up to be someone who corrects mistakes when necessary and is consistent in words and deeds, so let’s call you Si Guoyi for now.”

 

“…”

 

“The baby seems to be unhappy with this name. Why does he keep gesturing?” Luo Hui tugged at Si Shaoxun’s sleeve.

 

Si Shaoxun nodded.

 

Luo Hui smiled, “Then let him choose his own name when he grows up. For now, let’s call him Si Guoyi as a nickname.”

 

“…”

 

After Si Shaoxun left, Luo Hui did not feed Si Guoyi worms. Instead, she immediately threw away the fat earthworm and brought Si Guoyi celestial dew and jade brew.

 

“Guoyi, you must remember, you only like celestial dew and jade brew. You are a little divine phoenix. Please don’t let anyone know your true identity. When you grow up, Mother will tell you the reason.”

 

Luo Hui smiled and rubbed Si Guoyi’s head, vaguely feeling that Si Guoyi seemed to sigh. She couldn’t help but feel strange. Although her son was small in size, why did his expression look like that of a little adult?

 

Fortunately, the child was sensible. Whatever she said, he understood with just one mention, making her childcare work simple and relaxed.

 

Recently, Si Shaoxun had been busy, often leading his demon soldiers into battle outside.

 

She had never concerned herself with Si Shaoxun’s affairs until a maid hinted that a fairy had come to the Demon Realm and was constantly by Si Shaoxun’s side.

 

The maid’s words implied caution towards that fairy.

 

She found time to visit the military camp to find Si Shaoxun and sure enough, beside him was a fairy in a red dress. The fairy was tall and graceful, with delicate features like a painting, exuding an unreachable aura of elegance.

 

However, as she looked at Si Shaoxun, all her haughtiness faded, revealing eyes full of love.

 

Luo Hui held her breath, quietly approached, and listened to their conversation.

 

“Shaoxun, are you really not going back to the Heavenly Realm?”

 

“Zhu, since I’ve fallen into darkness, it’s impossible for me to go back. Besides, my wife and child are both in the Demon Realm.”

 

“Wife and child? Are you referring to that unknown wild chicken? Shaoxun, you’re the last divine phoenix of the Nine Heavens. How can you mix with her? The two of you are completely incompatible!”

 

Luo Hui couldn’t help but grind her teeth upon hearing this woman’s disdainful tone towards her, a truly venomous heart beneath her fairy appearance.

 

Does she need to comment on whether they are compatible or not?

 

Zhu then softened her tone. “Shaoxun, I know you don’t truly love her. She forced you to marry her through dirty means. I’m willing to wait for you at Mount Gushe until you change your mind.”

 

After saying this, Zhu didn’t wait for Si Shaoxun’s response and left with a spell.

 

Luo Hui didn’t enter immediately, unwilling to appear like she was catching them in the act. Instead, she waited until Zhu had been gone for a while before going in to find Si Shaoxun.

 

Si Shaoxun was looking at a map, his expression serious and focused. When he saw her appear, he only glanced up briefly.

 

Pretending not to know anything, she smiled and said, “Husband, Chu Shanjun’s subordinates still lack a few to be subdued.”

 

“One.”

 

“Oh, then Husband should be returning home soon.”

 

Si Shaoxun paused, looked up at her and asked, “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing, I just suddenly missed my husband.”

 

At her words, Si Shaoxun’s mouth twitched.

 

Seeing his smile, tinged with a hint of mockery, she thought that with his former lover from the Heavenly Realm accompanying him, he probably didn’t want to see her at all, hence the smile.

 

Luo Hui suddenly lost the desire to continue chatting. After looking around inside the tent and not seeing any belongings of a woman, she said, “I’ll go back first.”

 

“Is there nothing you want to say to me?” Si Shaoxun suddenly looked up and asked her.

 

She shook her head, turned around, and left, not seeing the subtle change in his expression behind her.

 

 

Si Shaoxun quickly subdued the last opponent. However, instead of returning to Zhuyun Peak, he stayed on the drifting Firefly Island in the Demon Realm.

 

When Luo Hui learned of this, her expression briefly froze, but she quickly smiled and teased Si Shaoxun.

 

Since that incident when she “arranged” Si Shaoxun, the two had never been intimate again.

 

This husband was merely in name.

 

She had once thought of smoothing things over for the sake of their child, after all, the child would still need Si Shaoxun’s protection in the future.

 

That was when they first arrived in the Demon Realm. She had taken the initiative to undress and lie down on the bed, but when Si Shaoxun saw her, he merely reached out to help her adjust her clothes, his gaze lingering briefly on her abdomen before quickly looking away.

 

She probably understood that this man was not interested in her body.

 

Or rather, he was not interested in her body that had borne children.

 

It’s heard that many men disdain their wives’ figures after childbirth, and now her lower abdomen has extra skin, naturally not comparable to that slender-waisted fairy, the phoenix princess.

 

She no longer humiliates herself. Si Shaoxun cannot find her, and she does not seek Si Shaoxun.

 

Separated by a mountain, they haven’t seen each other for over twenty years.

 

But they never expected that their reunion after over twenty years would mark the end of her life.

 

She didn’t know what happened between Si Shaoxun and the Phoenix Clan. The Phoenix Clan vented their anger on Si Lan and captured him.

 

Watching Si Lan restrained and pressed to the ground, she nearly lost her sanity, the long sword in her hand almost slipping away.

 

Ju Zhu pinched Si Lan’s face, her eyes crazed with crimson madness: “He’s just a mongrel! Why should he bind Si Shaoxun? If not for you and him, how could Si Shaoxun have turned out like this? You both deserve to die.”

 

Ju Zhu made a move to execute Si Lan, but she swung her sword at Ju Zhu in defiance. Unexpectedly, the divine formation on Ju Zhu’s body rebounded, and the sword wound struck her own chest.

 

Fresh blood flowed continuously from her chest and mouth.

 

The long sword fell to the ground, and she also collapsed.

 

Torrential rain poured down, the sounds of rain, wind, and Si Lan’s crying mingling in her ears. She struggled to open her eyes and saw Si Lan’s face wet with rain.

 

“Mother, mother…”

 

She wanted to speak, opened her mouth, but only a gush of blood spurted out.

 

Si Shaoxun finally appeared.

 

Through the dense rain curtain, she couldn’t clearly see Si Shaoxun’s face, only his white clothes seemingly stained by the rain, strikingly vivid.

 

She said, “I’m dying… Promise me one last request, don’t let Si Lan’s identity be discovered.”

 

At these words, Si Shaoxun transformed into his true form as a divine phoenix, severed a pair of phoenix wings, and placed them on Si Lan’s back.

 

A peaceful smile finally appeared on her face.

 

Amidst the noisy rain, a hoarse question came.

 

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

 

“No.”

 

Never.

 

She used him, guarded against him.

 

Never loved him.

 

He was just a tool she had chosen.

 

And he, under the influence of love poison, was only this unwilling.

 

Si Shaoxun calmly handled her affairs and buried her body beneath the phoenix trees of Zhuyun Peak.

 

Her soul, however, he gathered into a Soul Lamp.

 

She died from spiritual trauma, unable to re-piece her soul back together.

 

He often looked at the Soul Lamp, day after day, without saying a word.

 

Later, he took the Soul Lamp to seek revenge on the Phoenix Clan. He struck Ju Zhu with a sword, but the backlash of the divine formation appeared on him as well.

 

Ju Zhu covered her wound, tears falling: “I was just angry for a moment, just trying to scare her by capturing the child. I didn’t expect her to strike me with a sword. If not for that, she wouldn’t have suffered the backlash…”

 

The Princess of the Phoenix Clan repaid Ju Zhu’s life with another life and saved her.

 

He dragged his wounds back to Zhuyun Peak and slept under the giant phoenix tree.

 

Years passed day by day.

 

His cultivation advanced rapidly, and he had already subdued the leaders of the twelve peaks of the Demon Realm.

 

There was nothing left for him to cling to. At the moment of his divine demise, Si Lan told him, “Mother once got drunk and said that the promise she made to you back then wasn’t a love poison, she never poisoned you.”

 

“Mother also said she really wanted… really wanted to grow old with you as a couple.”

 

Tears welled up in his eyes as he held the Soul Lamp, trembling slightly.

 

So that’s how it was.

 

That’s how it was.

 

In the sixtieth year after Luo Hui’s passing, he peacefully passed away under the phoenix tree, his soul carrying Luo Hui’s soul, entering the cycle of reincarnation.

 

He bribed the King of the Underworld, and in the next life, he and Luo Hui would have a perfect ending.

 

And in this life, their ashes were buried together under the phoenix tree.

 

Year after year, age after age, together forever.


T/N: And that marks the official end of the Most Eligible Widow-Bachelor in the Six Realms + side stories! I always love it when a series ends with tons of after and before scenarios; to make sure we’re not just left high and dry or hanging and empty at the end of the story!

Thank you to all my readers who left comments, it really helps motivate me. If you see any mistakes, feel free to drop a comment and I’ll fix it right up too. It helps me improve and learn too, plus it’ll probably improve the quality of reading for those after you (or yourself, if you choose to revisit this story). It was quite the ride, and I did not expect so many side couples with sad backstories. Welp, at least the main couple got together right…?

That’s it from me folks. Thank you, and ooh, Thanksgiving is here already!~ Hope you have a merry time  with your family and a wonderful holiday! I’m already looking forward to the Christmas holidays….

If you like my translations, feel free to donate to my ko-fi!

I really, really appreciate all the support from my readers <3 It goes a long way and motivates me lots!

https://ko-fi.com/hoenibean

 

Also, check out the other series we have on HoH!

If you like cats, check out Revenge of the Garfield

If you like dragons, check out I’m Pregnant with the Hope of the Entire Planet and The Dragon and the ‘Princess’

How about some mystery or showbiz? Check out Morbid Addiction & Perfection

What about the perfect, most non-toxic male lead ever? Laws of Love

How about MC nursing ML back to health? Forced into the Deep

 

Thank you for all your support <3 Leave a comment if you like 🙂 I love reading them!

 

Chapter 22 – Do you feel scared sleeping alone at night?

Gu Lizhou thought that if he had to use something from this world to describe Zhong Weishi, it would be the wind.

Breeze, gust, whirlwind, storm, tornado…

All sorts of things, changing rapidly.

One moment, he’d be hanging his head in despair; the next, he’d be grinning and cursing up a storm.

“When I was a kid, I wasn’t ugly. I was just skinny. And I liked to play around, so I was several shades darker than other kids,” Zhong Weishi said while logging into his QQ space.

Gu Lizhou sat down with a cushion in his arms.

The album was filled with dozens of photos, almost all taken by a phone camera aimed at printed photos, making the images rather blurry.

In the first photo, two rows of children stood in the center, flanked by two elderly women with gray hair and warm smiles, looking vibrant. There were also two younger caregivers each holding a child.

In the background was a huge acacia tree.

But on closer inspection, one would notice that several of the children had visible physical defects.

One girl was particularly beautiful, but sadly had only one eye. The boy on the far right was grinning brightly, but he was missing an arm…

“That’s me,” Zhong Weishi pointed to one of the children being held.

Gu Lizhou gave a candid evaluation, “En, you do look kinda ugly.”

“I wasn’t even grown up then!” Zhong Weishi shot him a glare.

Gu Lizhou: “I was handsome even before I grew up.”

Zhong Weishi rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. No pictures, no proof.”

“So young, yet already talking trash.”

“No pictures, no proof my ass.”

“…”

The next few photos showed Zhong Weishi growing up. His looks had improved quite a bit, but he was still far too skinny, with arms as thin as twigs, looking like a frail, sickly child.

Who would have thought that twenty years later, he’d be as lively as a firecracker?

“Every time a child was brought into the orphanage or adopted, the director would take a group photo to commemorate it. She has several albums of them,” Zhong Weishi said.

Ai? Isn’t this Qiangzi?” Gu Lizhou zoomed in on the photo, pointing to a boy with a buzz cut.

“Yeah, you can actually recognize him,” Zhong Weishi said. “I remember he was sent in when he was about three or four. He only has three toes on his right foot.”

“That’s so ah…” Gu Lizhou furrowed his brows.

Seeing these photos made his heart feel as if it were weighed down by a heavy stone, leaving him deeply uncomfortable.

“But he’s luckier than me,” Zhong Weishi said. “His real mom got him back.”

““Oh?” Gu Lizhou was surprised. “Did she regret it?”

“No,” Zhong Weishi shook his head. “It’s said that his Dad racked up a lot of debt from gambling and had a violent streak. His Mom couldn’t support him, so she had no choice but to send him to the orphanage. Later, his Dad went to prison, and his Mom took him back. A few years ago, he came to Yucheng with me.”

Gu Lizhou found it hard to reconcile such a complicated family background with the Huangfu Qiang he knew.

Likewise, it was hard to imagine that the cheerful and carefree Zhong Weishi had gone through so much.

Perhaps that’s exactly why they turned out like wild grass—just a little rain and a bit of sunshine were enough to nourish their growth.

They were easily content and easily found happiness.

“Do you recognize which one is me?” Zhong Weishi asked.

“This one.” Gu Lizhou pointed to a boy holding a bear.

Zhong Weishi: “Awesome, you can even recognize this.”

Gu Lizhou: “It’s just way too ugly.”

Zhong Weishi let out a “fvck” and slapped his thigh. “No more looking!”

Laughing, Gu Lizhou grabbed his wrist and tugged him closer. “Don’t ah, let me see some more. I’m starting to think you just kept getting more handsome.”

“I think so too.” Zhong Weishi grinned, rubbing his nose as he handed over the phone. “But too bad I wasn’t lucky. If I’d been good-looking as a kid, maybe someone would’ve picked me up long ago. Who knows, I might’ve been forced to inherit a billion-dollar family business by now.”

“You think beautifully.” Gu Lizhou flipped through several more pages, noticing that the further he went, the fewer people appeared in the photos. By then, only the two elderly women were left taking care of the children.

In the last photo, an elderly woman with a weathered face sat in a wheelchair, her smile looking a bit weary.

Zhong Weishi pointed at the grandmother in the wheelchair. “This is the director of our Kaixin Orphanage. She was nearly 90 at the time and needed care herself.”

These photos seemed to unlock memories of his childhood, with each one telling a story.

For the first time, Gu Lizhou listened to Zhong Weishi ramble on about his childhood—there were moments of bitterness and sweetness, hardships and joys.

“Maybe not being adopted was your stroke of luck. It left your life open to endless possibilities,” Gu Lizhou said, exiting the app and handing the phone back.

Ai—” Zhong Weishi slumped back on the couch. “That’s easy to say, but I really think I’m just plain unlucky. I never seem to land any serious roles.”

“You really want to be famous that much?” Gu Lizhou asked.

“Well, duh. What actor doesn’t want to be famous?” Zhong Weishi said, staring at the ceiling.

Gu Lizhou had expected him to give a shallow yet honest answer—like wanting to make money.

But this time, the answer was more unexpected.

“I want to know if they’ll regret throwing me away.”

Gu Lizhou was silent for a couple of seconds before realizing that the “they” Zhong Weishi referred to must have been his biological parents, not those who chose not to adopt him.

The fan blew the strands of hair on Zhong Weishi’s forehead, making them flutter slightly.

Gu Lizhou recalled an article he’d read on psychology that emphasized how closely one’s mental health is tied to childhood experiences.

Children who are abandoned often struggle to develop a sense of security. That deep-seated fear can alter their personality in various ways.

Turning grief and indignation into strength can be a good thing, but taken too far, it might do more harm than good.

Gu Lizhou lifted his hand and patted Zhong Weishi’s shoulder. “People live for themselves.”

Zhong Weishi paused, turning to look at him.

In fact, he had shared this reason for wanting to become famous with many friends, and everyone would always respond, “You’ve got to make big money, achieve great success, get angry at them and make them regret it.”

Today was the first time someone told him, “People live for themselves”.

Picking at a tear in his jeans, Zhong Weishi’s emotions were complicated. “I really like shooting movies. Even if I never find them, I won’t regret stepping into this industry.”

Gu Lizhou let out an ‘en’. “I can see that.”

Zhong Weishi raised an index finger. “I once set a goal for myself—if I don’t land any decent roles by the time I’m 28, I’ll quit and find a job that can actually support me.”

“Why 28 not 30?” Gu Lizhou asked.

“30 is too old; jobs are harder to find.” The words slipped out of Zhong Weishi’s mouth before he realized the implications, and in a panic, he tried to backpedal. Unfortunately, his tongue couldn’t keep up with his thoughts. “I-I-I… I didn’t mean that you’re old ah! It’s just, just, just… you get what I mean, right? I mean in the acting industry, 30 is considered… no, no, that’s not… ai…”

Gu Lizhou snorted coldly.

“How to say it, men in their 30s have their own kind of charm. Like you—you’re very charming. They say men are in their prime at 40; right now, you’re just a budding flower!”

“Heh.”

“Alright,” Zhong Weishi pouted, “then I’ll adjust my goal to 30 okay!”

“Didn’t you just say men only bloom at forty?”

“…”

The two bantered on this topic for quite a while until Zhong Weishi suddenly remembered the issue of his rent. He hurriedly grabbed his phone to call Qiangzi to borrow money.

Gu Lizhou stopped him, “I’ve already paid it all for you.”

Zhong Weishi was so shocked he nearly jumped off the couch. “So good? Aren’t you afraid I’ll suddenly run away?”

“If you run away, then you run away,” Gu Lizhou shrugged. “Consider it money well spent to see a person’s true character.”

Hearing this, Zhong Weishi felt a bit uncomfortable. “I won’t run. At least not until I’ve paid off what I owe.”

Gu Lizhou smirked. “Two months’ rent plus utilities comes to a total of 4,506. I’ll cut you some slack and round it down—just pay me back 4,500.”

Zhong Weishi snapped his fingers, then bent over and dragged out a metal box from under the bed. It was filled to the brim with one-yuan and fifty-cent coins, heavy as a rock.

“There should be five hundred in here. Take it back, count it, and we’ll settle up if it’s off.” He then pulled out four pairs of underwear from a bag. “These are imported. Since we’re buddies, I’ll cut you a deal—just a thousand each.”

Gu Lizhou gritted his teeth, “Are you even human?”

Zhong Weishi grinned, baring his teeth. “Aren’t you supposed to be loaded?”

Around ten, Cao Zhiheng sent a message: “Where are you?”

[Useless Yet Awake]: 301. Did your girlfriend leave?

[Cao Zhiheng]: No, my girlfriend’s staying over tonight, so I’m planning to sleep in your room later.

[Useless Yet Awake]: She’s already staying over, and you’re still sleeping in separate rooms? Are you even capable ah?

[Cao Zhiheng]: What do you know! We’re not married yet, so how can we do that? I have to maintain my image as the traditional good guy in her eyes. Besides, dating should have a sense of ceremony. I plan to give her my most precious chromosomes on our wedding night.

“…”

Gu Lizhou was quite shocked at Cao Zhiheng’s mindset.

The person was already at your place, and you’re thinking about sleeping in separate rooms?!

How the hell did this dog man get a girlfriend?

[Cao Zhiheng]: No point being jealous! If you don’t mind my snoring, you can bunk with me. If you do mind, try negotiating with the kid and squeeze in with him.

While Zhong Weishi was busy counting coins beside him, Gu Lizhou rubbed his temples, unsure how to respond.

Cao Zhiheng’s snoring was like a tractor revving up. Even with a wall in between, it was audible. Sharing a bed would mean a sleepless night.

As for this one next to him…

“288,290,292,294……”

“288, 290, 292, 294…”

“That…”

En? 296, 298…”

Gu Lizhou watched him for a moment, then hesitated before asking, “Do you feel scared sleeping alone at night?”

En?” Zhong Weishi turned to look at him. “Scared of what?—Ah ya, fvck! Where was I in the count?!”

Gu Lizhou hooked an arm around Zhong Weishi’s shoulder, using his other hand to casually push aside the pile of coins. Glancing around the room with an expression of exaggerated fear, he lowered his voice and asked cautiously, “Don’t you know this place used to be haunted?”

“What?!” Zhong Weishi’s fingers froze, his eyes widening in shock.

“So the landlord didn’t tell you about it ah…” Gu Lizhou said with a sinister grin, his voice dripping with mischief.

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