In room 8703, there was only Hu Huanyang present for the time being.
After knocking on the door and entering, Sheng Zhao peeked inside and didn’t see Zhang Jian’s figure. This suite looked like a deluxe version of a two-bedroom apartment at first glance, with the doors of both bedrooms wide open. The balcony window opposite the door was open, but due to the heavy rain, the outside view was obscured.
“What are you looking for, Xiao Zhao?” Hu Huanyang asked curiously.
“Nothing, where’s Zhang Jian?” Sheng Zhao sat down on the sofa.
“He went to deal with that dragon.” Hu Huanyang said, “He couldn’t make a decision alone, so he decided to throw the dragon’s remains back into the underground river first. When his senior brothers come over, they’ll deal with it together. Plus, he needs to resolve the illusion formation at the development zone from before, so he might not be back until tonight.”
“This…” Sheng Zhao’s expression was somewhat subtle, “Is this environmentally friendly? Won’t it decay?”
“No, it won’t.” Hu Huanyang smiled and said, “It’s not that easy. Those are the bones of a demon beast. How could they turn into soil so easily?”
Sheng Zhao made a sound of acknowledgment and nodded.
When he was in front of Xing Yingzhu, he felt like a curious cat asking three thousand questions, but now in front of Hu Huanyang, he suddenly seemed to have lost the desire to delve deep into things.
Sheng Zhao just felt extremely tired; his emotions seemed to have taken a roller coaster ride, and now he had entered a standby mode.
Plus, he had been soaked in the heavy rain for half a day, feeling completely drenched from inside out. He poked his arm and felt like he was about to be soaked through.
As he fell silent, Hu Huanyang also felt a bit awkward.
Before, when Sheng Zhao was the administrator in the apartment building, they only considered each other as ordinary people they could chat with. But in just a few days, Sheng Zhao had become extremely familiar with Xing Yingzhu.
Xing Yingzhu was always a figure of delicate status in their eyes. They both feared and sought his protection. Although their relationship was not bad on ordinary days, it wasn’t exceptionally good either.
Now that their boss had stepped down from his pedestal and entangled himself with an ordinary person, this matter, in the eyes of Hu Huanyang and the others, could be considered explosive gossip of the highest level. It even shortened the seemingly insurmountable distance that had existed between Xing Yingzhu and them.
Hu Huanyang had a lot of questions brewing in his mind, wanting to ask about the relationship between Sheng Zhao and Xing Yingzhu. However, he felt that Sheng Zhao was different now, and he couldn’t quite gauge his attitude towards talking, so he hesitated to speak up.
Sheng Zhao didn’t think he had undergone any changes himself. His self-awareness remained at the level of “fortunate young office worker,” and he hadn’t realized that his status had risen along with Xing Yingzhu’s.
“Why did Zhang Jian ask me to come?” Sheng Zhao wondered.
“Well, he asked me to inquire about something,” Hu Huanyang paused, carefully saying, “…When we were at the development zone, how did you locate the dragon’s inner corel?”
Sheng Zhao guessed he would be asked about this.
Sheng Zhao felt quite aggrieved. Among the four present at the time, he was the only one who knew nothing about metaphysics. So when he suddenly pulled off a brilliant move, he hadn’t even realized it himself. Instead, the other three had watched in amazement.
“I said I don’t know either. Zhang Jian doesn’t believe me?” Sheng Zhao leaned back, his whole body slumping against the sofa, and said helplessly, “If I must say something, just consider me mutated—maybe I got bitten by a spider at that moment, or perhaps I got struck by lightning or something.”
Hu Huanyang: “…”
I overthought it, Hu Huanyang thought with a straight face, realizing that asking Sheng Zhao about this was pointless.
“Is there anything else?” Sheng Zhao asked.
Hu Huanyang pursed his lips, his right hand tucked into his pocket, discreetly fiddling with the fragile piece of paper in his hand, looking somewhat hesitant.
In fact, there was another thing that even Zhang Jian didn’t know—amidst the chaos, after the thunderclouds had passed, Hu Huanyang had secretly taken the talisman drawn by Sheng Zhao.
What surprised him though was that the talisman Sheng Zhao hastily drew had the same origin as Zhang Jian’s—it was from Mount Longhu.
At first, he had thought that Sheng Zhao might have copied the patterns from Zhang Jian’s talismans. However, drawing talismans was not just about appearance; it required genuine family heritage and spiritual connection. Sheng Zhao’s copied talisman easily overshadowed the original ones with its inherent symbols. This indicated that either Sheng Zhao, like Zhang Jian, was a member of the Mount Longhu Tianshi lineage, or it meant that Sheng Zhao’s cultivation had surpassed Zhang Jian by far, to the point where he could disregard Zhang Jian’s symbols.
But for Hu Huanyang, no matter which scenario it was, it was hard for him to connect it with Sheng Zhao. So he simply hid the talisman and didn’t tell Zhang Jian—after all, in his view, only Xing Yingzhu and Sheng Zhao could be considered “one of us.”
So Hu Huanyang thought about calling Sheng Zhao behind Zhang Jian’s back to ask, in case there was any flaw that shouldn’t be revealed and could be dealt with quietly.
But seeing Sheng Zhao’s current state, he realized that he was also confused, so after some deliberation, he swallowed back that sentence and didn’t say anything to him.
“Nothing else,” Hu Huanyang smiled and said, “I was just asking on his behalf. It’s good as long as there’s nothing wrong.”
Sheng Zhao didn’t think much about it, considering it routine business, so he nodded and said, “If there’s nothing else, I’ll head back first. I’m exhausted today.”
Hu Huanyang escorted him to the door. As Sheng Zhao was about to leave, he suddenly remembered something, turned his head, and asked, “Hu Huanyang, do you… have any… medicine?”
Hu Huanyang was momentarily puzzled about the meaning.
“What medicine, cold medicine?” Hu Huanyang asked. “Did you get caught in the rain?”
“No,” Sheng Zhao felt a bit embarrassed, stuttering, “I… I think I got grazed by lightning just now.”
Hu Huanyang understood immediately.
He didn’t expose Sheng Zhao, just looked at him with some difficulty, bit his lip for a moment, then turned back to the room. After a while, he came back with a palm-sized porcelain bottle.
“This, it’s from Zhang Jian,” Hu Huanyang coughed and said, “He used it on me before. It should… well, I don’t know if it works. You can try it.”
Sheng Zhao hastily took it and held it in his hand, awkwardly thanking him. He seemed as stiff as some undercover agent.
The suite Zhang Jian arranged for him and Xing Yingzhu was opposite Hu Huanyang’s, separated by two doors, with the room number 8712.
When he returned, he found that his boss was quite considerate, even leaving him room to get in.
Through the slightly open door, Sheng Zhao reached in to push aside the latch, sneaking in like a thief, peering around.
The layout of this suite was similar to Hu Huanyang’s, with two bedrooms neatly arranged, looking like they hadn’t been used, and the living room was empty, with only Xing Yingzhu’s coat casually thrown on the sofa.
“Boss…” Sheng Zhao said uncertainly, “Are you here?”
Xing Yingzhu’s voice quickly came from the bedroom on the right. Seeing him inside, Sheng Zhao felt much more at ease, so he subconsciously closed the door behind him.
He walked in at the sound of Xing Yingzhu’s voice, only to freeze.
Who uses mahogany for a bathroom door? Couldn’t they at least put a glass one for a warning!
Countless bullet comments flashed through Sheng Zhao’s mind in an instant, and his feet were rooted to the spot, unable to move forward or backward, wishing he could immediately turn into a green plant with roots sprouting in place.
In front of the large French window, Xing Yingzhu was lazily lying in the bathtub, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at the scenery outside.
He was draped with a large white towel casually around his waist, barely covering the essentials, floating somewhat indifferently on the water’s surface, just barely concealing the critical parts.
Sheng Zhao: “…”
Sheng Zhao had known from the first moment he saw Xing Yingzhu that he was handsome, but every time he faced such an unexpectedly shocking scene, he found it difficult to cope.
Xing Yingzhu’s skin had a somewhat unhealthy pallor, white as porcelain when illuminated by the warm light of the bathroom. His right hand casually rested outside the bathtub, and as Sheng Zhao’s gaze darted around, it happened to catch a few thin blue veins on the inside of his wrist.
… Sheng Zhao dared not look any longer.
One word: awkward. Sheng Zhao was afraid that if he looked any further, this monster would steal his soul.
What the heck! Sheng Zhao complained in his mind: It’s just a snake, why does it look better than Hu Huanyang! This doesn’t fit the expected character of a supernatural story!
Sheng Zhao’s gaze darted around the room, wanting to keep his distance from him, but unable to stop himself from floating towards Xing Yingzhu. Between several back and forths, he made a decision—not to look at his boss’s face.
But when his gaze swept downward, most of that slightly romantic mood in his heart suddenly dissipated.
In the bathtub, Xing Yingzhuo’s slender legs were stretched out, and his right leg submerged in the water, from the ankle up, was covered with large patches of black burn scars.
Sheng Zhao didn’t know what kind of creature Xing Yingzhu was—those wounds looked quite serious, with black scabs oozing blood, yet Xing Yingzhu himself seemed to pay no attention to them, as if he didn’t even feel the pain.
But Sheng Zhao couldn’t bear to see him like this. He clicked his tongue, even losing the heart to complain, and quickly approached, intending to pull him out of the water.
“After all this, you’re still taking a bath?” Sheng Zhao was so angry he wanted to slap him: “I thought you’d turn into barbecue; now it looks like I overestimated you. You’d turn into charcoal if you stayed any longer—don’t you feel pain?”
As Sheng Zhao rambled on, about to touch the chilly water surface with his fingertips, his wrist was suddenly held by Xing Yingzhu.
Sheng Zhao subconsciously turned to look at him, thinking he might blame him for meddling too much, so in the brief half-second, he hastily prepared himself to respond to his unreasonable attack.
However, to his surprise, Xing Yingzhuo’s expression was a bit strange.
“Sheng Zhao.” Xing Yingzhu’s gaze slowly and carefully scrutinized him, his tone subtly questioning, “Are you secretly in love with me?”
Sheng Zhao: “??”
—What the heck?
