In the reception room of the Longhu Inner Gate, Zhang Chengde dismissed two apprentices who were assisting him and personally took out a small delicate purple clay cup from the tea tray, placing it in front of Xing Yingzhu.
The Lu’an Melon Seed tea fragrance was light. Zhang Chengde shook the fair cup and, as a gesture of hospitality, poured a cup for Xing Yingzhu.
Xing Yingzhu remained silent. He looked down at the steaming cup of tea for a while, then averted his gaze and looked out the window.
The buildings in Longhu’s interior were quite different from those outside. Most of the buildings here were ancient structures passed down for thousands of years. At first glance, one could hardly see any modern atmosphere.
The temperature in the mountains was slightly cooler than in the city, but the trees outside were still lush and green. Among the mountains, it was easy to give people a feeling of not knowing the time.
Xing Yingzhu looked at the scenery with a faint expression for a while, and Zhang Chengde didn’t urge him. Instead, he quietly poured himself another cup of tea and added half a pot of boiling water to the tea pot.
After a while, Xing Yingzhu withdrew his gaze. He took out his right hand from his pocket and placed it on the table, lightly tapping the tabletop with his fingertips twice.
Zhang Chengde was subconsciously startled by the sound and looked at his hand. He saw Xing Yingzhu turn his right hand over, and a nail-sized golden bead appeared in the palm of his hand out of thin air.
The bead was covered with cracks, with a dull luster, and several small gaps, looking quite unsightly.
“This thing is for you.” Xing Yingzhu said, “Whether you want to detain it, erase it, or simply throw it into the furnace to refine the spirit, it’s up to you. I don’t care.”
Zhang Chengde looked at the bead, somewhat puzzled as to why Xing Yingzhu would take it out voluntarily.
Demons needed inner cores for cultivation. A hundred-year-old demon had a white core, a thousand-year-old demon had a deep purple one, and those that could emit golden light, apart from being descendants of divine beasts, were worthy of becoming immortals.
For example, the dragon in Shanghai, although it was completely destroyed by lightning, as long as the demon core was intact, there was still a chance of survival.
Xing Yingzhu’s willingness to help with demon suppression already exceeded Zhang Chengde’s expectations. He didn’t expect him to be so generous as to bring the core out as well.
“According to the rules, the dragon in Shanghai is not an ordinary demon, and it should be disposed of by you, sir.” Zhang Chengde said.
“I can’t be bothered.” Xing Yingzhu casually raised his hand, tossing the golden core in front of Zhang Chengde like throwing a glass marble and said casually, “When Mount Longhu killed demons and human spirits in the past, they often did such things. There’s plenty of experience; do as you wish.”
Since he had already said this much, Zhang Chengde didn’t refuse anymore. Instead, he smiled and put the bead into his own sleeve.
Seeing that Zhang Chengde didn’t say anything to politely decline, Xing Yingzhu’s expression improved slightly. He adjusted his sleeve cuffs and then picked up the teacup, taking a sip, and his attitude softened a lot.
“What do you want from me?” Xing Yingzhu said.
Zhang Chengde patiently poured him another half cup of tea before slowly taking out a small rolled-up silk cloth from his sleeve.
“Zhang Jian told me about the situation in Shanghai,” Zhang Chengde spoke slowly, but not annoyingly, calmly saying, “But besides that, Longhu has also received some other news recently—this is the list.”
Zhang Chengde unfolded the silk cloth in front of Xing Yingzhu and handed it to him to read.
Xing Yingzhu quickly glanced over it and found that most of the content was very familiar—when he was in Suzhou, Sheng Zhao once made him a list of recent abnormal celestial phenomena, most of which coincided with the list in Zhang Chengde’s hands. It was just missing some parts, probably because Sheng Zhao couldn’t accurately measure the scale of “abnormality,” so some were omitted.
Xing Yingzhu quickly read through the list and realized that in this period of time, there had been no less than twenty abnormal incidents.
“Most of these incidents didn’t cause much trouble locally,” Zhang Chengde said, “Just floods, earthquakes, or landslides, things that seem like reactions to accidents. Only the dragon in Shanghai really emerged from underground and caused trouble for humans.”
“That’s because his seal was deliberately broken by someone,” Xing Yingzhu said casually, “If he hadn’t seen the sunlight, the dragon’s bindings could have lasted at least two or three more years.”
“That’s right.” Zhang Chengde smiled and stroked his beard, suggesting, “But you also know that in today’s world, things are not as they used to be. Construction and excavation are taking place everywhere, and who knows when something will be dug up. Although my sect can slowly investigate the loosening of underground seals, plans cannot keep up with changes. If there are sudden changes, it will be difficult for us to handle.”
“If you have something, just say it,” Xing Yingzhu said.
“This time, you were willing to take action, which is indeed generous of you. But if something unexpected happens in the future, it’s not good to trouble you all the time.” Zhang Chengde said straightforwardly, “So, this time, I ask you to list the arrangements of demons and beasts in various places. When my sect disciples go out to investigate, it’s better to be prepared in advance.”
Xing Yingzhu lazily raised his eyelids, glanced at him, and said, “Are you trying to trick me?”
Zhang Chengde smiled but didn’t speak.
Xing Yingzhu squinted his eyes, crossed his fingers, leaned back in his chair, and seemed to be evaluating Zhang Chengde’s abilities for a while.
In the Dharma Ending Age, there were no more mortals who could become immortals. Even the current orthodox leaders of several major occult sects couldn’t rely on physical cultivation anymore, only borrowing power from heaven.
Zhang Chengde was almost seventy years old, but his body was still strong. He was probably raised by the previous Celestial Master since he was a child. He had a broad demeanor, without the aloofness of an out-of-the-world person, but rather like a gentle neighbor grandfather.
Xing Yingzhu had dealings with Longhu several times in the past. Since the time of the first Zhang Tianshi, Longhu had been the sect most involved with dealing with demon creatures—the number of demon creatures killed by them during their most radical cultivation years was countless.
So most people from his family were like Zhang Jian, self-reliant and naturally proud, but people like Zhang Chengde were rare.
However, Xing Yingzhu had never regarded demon creatures as his possessions, nor did he involve himself in their grudges. His attitude towards Longhu was indifferent, no different from other sects in the world.
To put it bluntly, he neither approached nor distanced himself, but simply didn’t bother with everyday interactions.
If it were a few years ago, Xing Yingzhu would have definitely refused if Zhang Chengde made such a request. Despite having the reputation of overseeing disobedient demon creatures in recent years, in reality, he had hardly managed any matters.
But not anymore.
Xing Yingzhu’s eyes darkened, and Sheng Zhao’s face flashed inexplicably in his mind.
He suddenly remembered last night, when his freshly minted little boyfriend wasn’t very obedient at night, wrapped in a bedsheet and awkwardly shuffled over to his room, insisting on having a “heart-to-heart talk” with him.
At that time, Sheng Zhao was still immersed in the excitement of no longer being single, unusually excited, more energetic in the middle of the night than Xing Yingzhu, who was accustomed to being active at night.
Xing Yingzhu didn’t want to pay him any attention, but Sheng Zhao coaxed and flattered him, clinging to his leg and refusing to let go, insisting on “getting to know each other.” Xing Yingzhu was flattered by his sweet words but also truly despised his spineless behavior, so in the end, he didn’t kick him out.
“Don’t you want to tell me about your background? Just talk about something else.” Sheng Zhao pretended to be magnanimous and said at the time, “Let’s chat casually.”
“About what?” Xing Yingzhu, tired from a day’s work and just being struck by lightning, feeling exhausted and sleepy, just wanted to soak in water and sleep well. When he heard this, he casually replied, “Are you going to ask me about some mythical gossip again?”
“Oh, is that the point?” Sheng Zhao, ashamed and angry, said, “Can’t we talk about something serious for once?”
Although that night Sheng Zhao chirped in Xing Yingzhu’s ear for half an hour without saying anything “serious,” Xing Yingzhu noticed a sentence in his meaningless chatter.
“I suddenly thought of something.” Sheng Zhao went from asking Xing Yingzhu if there were circulating currencies 8,000 years ago to sitting up straight, asking seriously, “We’re in a relationship, but you won’t age. What if in four or five decades, I’m all wrinkled, but you still look the same? What then?”
At that time, Xing Yingzhu was almost asleep, and at the words, he snorted lightly, lazily responding, “What about it? Isn’t it only natural that I still look the same?”
Although Xing Yingzhu was on the verge of falling asleep at the time, he still remembered clearly that after that sentence, Sheng Zhao was silent for two seconds.
During those two seconds, Sheng Zhao may not have thought of anything, but the next day when Xing Yingzhu remembered this incident, he couldn’t help but think a little more about it.
Sheng Zhao was probably feeling sentimental again. Xing Yingzhu thought bitterly at the time, he hasn’t even figured out the present, and he’s already thinking about what will happen in four or five decades.
According to his personality, he should have teased Sheng Zhao about this matter. But after mocking him in his heart, a new thought inexplicably emerged in him.
Does he want to spend his life with me so much? Xing Yingzhu wondered.
The two seconds of silence from Sheng Zhao gave Xing Yingzhu endless room for imagination, to the point that when he thought about it again now, he still felt skeptical.
Does he care so much about this matter? Xing Yingzhu wondered.
This thought flashed through Xing Yingzhu’s mind, effortlessly influencing one of his decisions.
Forget it, he thought, I’ll settle the score with Sheng Zhao when I get back.
So Sheng Zhao unwittingly owed Xing Yingzhu another debt, and it was extremely unfair and domineering, simply the direct victim of a tyrannical clause.
“If you want my help, you’ll need to offer something in exchange,” Xing Yingzhu said slowly.
Zhang Chengde was mentally prepared and asked, “Please go ahead, sir.”
“I remember Longhu has a unique technique called the Wheel of Reincarnation,” Xing Yingzhu said, “It’s embedded in the spirit of wood with techniques, capable of finding a person’s past lives and present, guiding spirits—give me a copy, and I’ll consider it.”
Zhang Chengde almost instantly thought of the young man who was with Xing Yingzhu.
“Allow me to ask one more thing.” Zhang Chengde didn’t agree or disagree but asked, “Is this item for the young man accompanying you?”
Xing Yingzhu raised an eyebrow but didn’t answer. Judging by his attitude, he obviously tacitly agreed.
“Forgive my bluntness,” Zhang Chengde said seriously, “Humans and demon creatures have different paths. Meeting in this life is fate, but it’s not necessary to go against the will of heaven, forcibly seeking future fate—if you have feelings, it’s enough to cherish them in this life.”
Xing Yingzhu didn’t explain further, just looked at Zhang Chengde calmly without any ripples in his expression.
“What if I insist?”
