NHWSG chapter 84

Sheng Zhao cleared his throat and asked hopefully but shyly, “What reward?”

Xing Yingzhu: “…”

Just by looking at Sheng Zhao’s expression, he knew what the other person was thinking. It was probably those cloying little “rewards” again. This silly kid wasn’t interested in fame or fortune, yet he still fell for it every time.

“You’re hopeless,” Xing Yingzhu flicked his forehead and said, “Always thinking about those meaningless things.”

Sheng Zhao felt embarrassed at being seen through and quickly tried to cover up, “What am I thinking? Don’t just project your own dirty thoughts onto others!”

He said it with such righteousness, as if he had even deceived himself.

“Then you tell me, what reward do you want to give me?” Sheng Zhao asked.

Xing Yingzhu chuckled, reached out to pat his shoulder, and spun him around as if trying to make him turn around.

“Hey, hey, hey—” Sheng Zhao flapped his arms to refuse and said, “Zhang Jian said not to turn back!”

“When he said not to turn back, it’s because there’s a risk of these things following you after the road ceremony,” Xing Yingzhu said. “But with me here, are you still afraid of them following you home?”

Sheng Zhao thought about it and felt that it made sense. With Xing Yingzhu, the formidable god of calamity, here, there was nothing to fear.

He had always had a very inexplicable trust in Xing Yingzhu. Seeing the other party arrive, all his anxiety disappeared instantly, and he obediently let Xing Yingzhu push him around, turning back to look at the alley again.

Sheng Zhao’s own mystic radar was still at a hit-or-miss level, with the effectiveness of his practical skills similar to Duan Yu’s Six Meridians Divine Sword, relying on random chance and luck. So Xing Yingzhu kindly gave him a buff, reaching out to lightly tap his brow, temporarily opening up his spiritual vision for him.

Sheng Zhao blinked, feeling as if something flashed before his eyes. Everywhere he looked seemed to be covered in a hazy layer, as if the world had turned into just black, white, and gray.

The old lady he had seen in the alley before was trembling as she walked out of the alley, heading towards the pile of fruits.

Using his matured version of “clairvoyance,” Sheng Zhao easily noticed something amiss in the scene. Near the circle he had drawn earlier, several dark figures were lingering, appearing human-like but not quite. Occasionally, they would reach out towards the fruits, but each time they touched the edge, they were blocked by something invisible.

It wasn’t until the old lady approached and stepped into the circle, wrapping the fruits dirtied by the incense ashes tightly in her shawl, that the shadows dispersed.

“Saw it?” Xing Yingzhu said.

“Yeah…” Sheng Zhao pursed his lips and whispered, “Seems quite pitiful.”

“Once is enough,” Xing Yingzhu said, wiping his hand in front of Sheng Zhao’s eyes, and the hazy mist disappeared. The alley was back to its original state, and the shadows were gone.

“Learned your lesson?” Xing Yingzhu chuckled and said, “Next time you encounter such a situation, just ignore it.”

Sheng Zhao hesitated for a moment. The image of the old lady squatting alone by the garbage heap picking through trash flashed through his mind, and he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.

“You can’t say that…” Sheng Zhao whispered, “If it’s at the level of today, helping out a bit doesn’t seem like a loss.”

Xing Yingzhu glanced at him, his tone cool as he said, “Just because you’re kind-hearted?”

Sheng Zhao could tell from his tone that Xing Yingzhu was probably dissatisfied with something again. Although he didn’t know what had suddenly upset Xing Yingzhu, he knew that comforting him was always a safe bet.

“Forget about that,” Sheng Zhao hastily changed the subject, saying, “I was just thinking, why can she take the fruits others throw away but not the ones I offer?”

Xing Yingzhu furrowed his brows, seemingly dissatisfied with Sheng Zhao’s clumsy attempt to change the topic, wanting to continue discussing the previous matter.

But before he could say anything, Sheng Zhao sneakily grabbed his sleeve, gently shook it, and chuckled at him.

Xing Yingzhu: “…”

Forget it, Xing Yingzhu thought, what’s the point of talking to him about these things? If he wasn’t kind-hearted and naive, he wouldn’t have gotten involved with those monsters in his past life.

“Because those things belong to living people and aren’t meant for her, so she can’t take them,” Xing Yingzhu said. “There are plenty of lost souls and wandering spirits in this world. Unable to receive offerings, they live in poverty and can only wait for opportunities to pick up scraps left behind by others.”

“That’s so miserable…” Sheng Zhao frowned and said, “Why don’t they reincarnate?”

“You think reincarnation is easy?” Xing Yingzhu raised an eyebrow and said, “Not only do they have to wait in line, but if they’ve committed too many sins in their past lives, they have to atone for them. Some people who have done too much evil dare not reincarnate and can only wander in the human world. Moreover, even if they were good people in their past lives, with so many people waiting to reincarnate, naturally the virtuous and wealthy ones go first. Those without money or connections can only wait.”

Sheng Zhao: “…”

Is this the underworld or something? Sheng Zhao thought. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it was some corrupt lower-level government unit.

Since knowing Xing Yingzhu, Sheng Zhao’s worldview had been shattered countless times. There were taxes to pay for monsters to become spirits, and bribes were needed for reincarnation. Sheng Zhao blinked blankly, feeling that he wouldn’t be surprised by anything that destroyed his beliefs anymore.

“That’s really miserable. It shows how important it is to prepare for the afterlife,” Sheng Zhao sighed.

Xing Yingzhu looked at him somewhat unexpectedly, as if he hadn’t expected him to suddenly say something so melancholic.

“So if I die, you must remember to burn more paper money for me,” Sheng Zhao continued, “My family doesn’t believe in this stuff. If you don’t burn it for me, I’ll be poor even after death.”

Xing Yingzhu: “…”

Wasn’t I trying to comfort him just now? Xing Yingzhu puzzled over it. Why bother?

Just as he was about to mock him for thinking so much about such things at such a young age, Sheng Zhao’s phone rang.

Sheng Zhao gestured to Xing Yingzhu, then took out his phone and realized it was Zhang Jian calling.

“How’s it going?” Zhang Jian seemed a bit worried and called to ask, “Did you encounter any situations you couldn’t handle?”

“Nothing at all.” Sheng Zhao smiled, glanced at Xing Yingzhu, and whispered, “Xing Yingzhu came over too. Everything’s fine, and it’s all over now.”

Zhang Jian: “…”

He kindly called to offer help, but he didn’t expect to be fed a mouthful of dog food. Feeling speechless, he hung up the phone, feeling like he had meddled too much.

“I told you there was no need to worry,” Hu Huanyang said. “How could the boss really let Xiao Zhao go out to deal with ghosts by himself?”

Zhang Jian hung up the phone and turned to look at him.

Before Sheng Zhao called, the two of them were walking on the street, preparing to go to a haunted villa to check feng shui. They had temporarily stopped at a small park by the roadside due to Sheng Zhao’s interruption.

Stalls lined up at the entrance of the park’s night market, with the air filled with the pungent smell of spices. Hu Huanyang sat on the edge of a flower bed over a meter high, with his legs crossed and swinging back and forth, one over the other.

As a fox, Hu Huanyang wasn’t afraid of the cold. He only wore a thin casual shirt when he went out, paired with light-colored jeans and a pair of canvas shoes. He rolled up the cuffs of his jeans, revealing a section of fair ankle. The slightly protruding ankle bone had a hint of pale pink, swaying up and down with his movements. Occasionally, the heel would knock against the edge of the flower bed, emitting a soft sound.

In the midst of the vendors’ occasional shouts in the night market, the sound seemed insignificant and dispersed in the air mixed with the aroma of spices. However, Zhang Jian still inexplicably noticed it.

This fox was different from those he saw on the mountain—he gained spiritual wisdom at a very young age, encountered countless ghosts and demons, but the fox demons on Longhu Mountain, although mostly spiritual, were all well-behaved, diligently practicing within their boundaries, almost wishing to meditate and cultivate every day, where would there be someone as grounded as Hu Huanyang, with a live broadcasting job and a strange fondness for stinky tofu.

“Xing Yingzhu is even more easygoing than I imagined,” Zhang Jian said lightly, “It seems he and Sheng Zhao get along well.”

“Naturally,” Hu Huanyang chuckled and said, “When it comes to our Xiao Zhao, he’s really something, making the boss happy every day. The atmosphere in the building has improved a lot.”

“That’s his skill and his fate, others can’t envy it,” Zhang Jian said, “Let’s go, the client is still waiting—”

As Zhang Jian turned to leave, Hu Huanyang jumped down from the flower bed, quickly walking a few steps to his side with his hands behind his back, his eyes turning around without a trace, and he glanced at Zhang Jian.

Hu Huanyang had a question in his mind, which had been bothering him for many days, but he never found a good opportunity to ask. Today, mentioning Xing Yingzhu and Sheng Zhao brought his doubts back.

“Well, that’s true, whether it’s a monster or a human, as long as there’s fate, there will always be a connection when they come together. It’s just that people like the boss somehow hit it off with Xiao Zhao.” Hu Huanyang casually remarked, “But then again, it seems like we’re the same. We always seem to come together for no reason.”

Zhang Jian paused in his steps and looked at him, asking strangely, “You’re asking me if we are fated?”

Hu Huanyang: “…”

He originally wanted to lead Zhang Jian into saying something, but he never expected Zhang Jian to retort with this. He was stunned for a moment.

Even from Zhang Jian’s tone, it seemed as if he had already tacitly agreed that Hu Huanyang himself knew what “fate” there was between them.

…What fate? Hu Huanyang thought in shock, could it be that I’ve lost my memory?