Zhou Hui growled low, circling Chu He and swatting lightly at his face and neck.
Chu He let out a faint groan, which only encouraged Zhou Hui further. He rubbed his massive, furry head against Chu He, pressing his chest against him with a deep, dangerous rumble, his pupils narrowing into eerie slits.
“…” Chu He opened his mouth soundlessly, wincing in pain.
This is mine, Zhou Hui thought. The primal instincts roared within his veins, every nerve ending trembling.
He is mine. Completely, utterly mine.
I have absolute sovereignty over him. I am the sole master of this domain.
This realization thrilled Zhou Hui, the years of separation and longing turning into a fierce, intoxicating high, like pouring alcohol onto a raging fire, or dumping cold water into boiling oil—his mind exploded with desire.
He licked Chu He’s neck and chest, ravenous and insatiable, leaving no skin untouched. His long, barbed tongue made Chu He shudder and curl up in pain, gasping brokenly. He instinctively tried to push away but was pinned down, forced into a helpless, exposed position.
“Ah…” Chu He struggled weakly, “No… no, Zhou Hui…”
The beast paused, staring down from above.
Chu He barely opened his eyes, trembling and pale, coughing up bloody foam before he could speak. He knelt, coughing painfully, hair plastered to his cheeks, his body bare and trembling under Zhou Hui’s gaze.
The beast couldn’t hold back, its tail thrashing, wanting nothing more than to ravage him completely. But all it could do was claw at the floor, leaving steaming gashes in frustration.
“Zhou Hui…” Chu He finally caught his breath, turning weakly, instantly sensing danger and trying to crawl away.
The beast roared, pounced, and pinned him down, burying his face in Chu He’s neck and pressing him roughly. After several pushes, it reluctantly withdrew, staring at Chu He like a starved predator denied its feast.
“Let go of me… Zhou Hui,” Chu He shivered but remained calm. “Let go first…”
The beast roared angrily, shaking the whole hall, but reluctantly stepped back a little. After a few tense seconds, it retreated another step, muscles taut as if barely restraining itself from lunging again.
Chu He, bloodless lips trembling, kept his eyes locked on the violent green pupils until the beast retreated three or four meters away. Its form slowly shrank, bones reshaping until Zhou Hui stood there in human form again.
Chu He slumped against the wall, exhaling deeply.
“Don’t act like you’ve been traumatized for life.” Zhou Hui squatted, licking his fingers absentmindedly like a beast before a kill. “I wasn’t gonna do anything, see how obedient I am…”
“Then what were you about to do just now?”
Zhou Hui’s eyes rolled. “Oh, just testing if my fur is still soft,” he said, leaning closer flirtatiously. “Is it soft?”
Chu He expressionlessly pushed away the handsome face before him and tried to stand with the help of the wall, but the pain in his side, where the Vajra Pestle had struck solidly, was unbearable. The moment he exerted strength, it felt like an electric shock, forcing him to collapse back down. The direct impact of the Buddha’s blood was no joke—had it been anyone else, their abdominal cavity would probably be a pile of red bean paste by now.
Zhou Hui, dressed in black, had a puncture wound under his right rib that wasn’t very obvious. He simply pressed his hand against it to stop the bleeding and said, “Don’t move. I’ll handle this.”
He rummaged through the pocket of his jacket and found a throat lozenge bottle, shaking out a pill no bigger than a pinky fingernail. After holding it in his mouth for a while, he spat the dissolved mixture into his palm, rubbed it together, and lifted Chu He’s shirt to massage the injured area on his waist. This type of pill was merely an emergency measure, but it did help relieve pain quickly. After a few minutes, Chu He exhaled a long breath of relief. “Okay, that’s better… where did you get this stuff?”
Zhou Hui replied, “Unlike you immortals blessed by the Heavenly Dao, as a demon, of course I stock up on some specialties from the Hell realm.”
Chu He thought, so I’m that adaptable to Hell’s specialties? His face must have made this sentiment all too clear, because Zhou Hui immediately tried to console him. “You know, when you marry a chicken, you follow the chicken; marry a dog, follow the dog. People have to adapt to their environment.”
“…”
The corner of Chu He’s mouth twitched. “And you? How are you holding up?”
“Those weakling Asuras were nothing, just a one-hand kill each. But you—got mesmerized by a few little bells like you were in bliss. It’s honestly sad, never seen someone so inexperienced.” Zhou Hui leaned in with a wicked grin, whispering, “If you like it that much, next time I’ll get you a few more. Guarantee you’ll love it…”
Chu He deadpanned, “No thanks. You keep them for yourself. If your arms aren’t long enough, I can lend a hand.”
“You don’t get it—”
Chu He cut him off immediately, “——What about the cursed corpse?”
“Oh,” Zhou Hui pouted. “I saw some post on the Heavenly Dao’s Zhihu forum that said Buddha Seals can purify cursed corpses, so I borrowed my brother-in-law’s palm for it. Honestly, your brother is too timid. It was just a little tango with a cursed corpse, and he was screaming like I’d gotten him gang-banged or something. Made me feel bad for him.”
Zhou Hui briefly explained that the cursed corpse wasn’t actually Central Yangjin Pingcuo. “Which proves that Old Yu was indeed impersonated. Damn it, I knew something was off with Yu Jingzhong lately, like he was on the wrong meds.”
“You can’t just say that because he refused your blind date setups…” Chu He sighed, then suddenly thought of something. “——Where’s Zhang Shun?”
Zhou Hui froze.
Though the expression was fleeting, Chu He caught it keenly: “——Weren’t you with Zhang Shun when you came from East City? Where is he?”
Zhou Hui stared at him for a long while, then suddenly clutched his right rib and groaned in pain, “Ah—hurts, it hurts so bad…”
His face went pale, sweat poured down, and his expression was so convincing that even Chow Yun-Fat himself would have to bow down. Chu He didn’t doubt it, immediately rushing to help him sit back down, unbuttoning his shirt to check, revealing a finger-sized bloody arrow wound under his ribs. The hastily extracted arrowhead had torn up a palm-sized area of flesh—grisly to look at.
Chu He instantly realized it was his doing and yelled, “Why didn’t you say something sooner!”
Zhou Hui gasped, grabbing Chu He’s hand. “Quick, go check if the arrowhead got scratched…”
“The hell with that!” Chu He grabbed his pocket and fished out the throat lozenge bottle—empty. The last pill had been used on Chu He himself. With no better option, Chu He tore a strip of cloth from his own shirt to bandage Zhou Hui, but bizarrely, though the bleeding had nearly stopped before, now it started gushing again as soon as he touched it, soaking the cloth within two wraps.
Zhou Hui panted, clutching his hand. “Darling, never mind me, there’s something I must tell you…”
“What nonsense are you spouting? Got any more medicine?” Chu He pried Zhou Hui’s hand off and searched the ruined ICU ward, managing to find half a box of painkillers and an unopened syringe. He looked for hemostatic powder, but the beds and expensive medical equipment were all smashed, pills scattered across the floor among broken glass.
Zhou Hui, slumped weakly in the corner, moaned, “Darling, my bones are tough… just check if the arrowhead’s damaged—”
“Stop moving! Tighten that bandage!”
“Never mind me, it’s urgent—”
“——Excuse me,” a voice called from nearby, “could you spare a thought for me? If you keep ignoring me, I’m going to die right here.”
Both Zhou Hui and Chu He turned their heads. Lying flat on his back, Shenwan Tiansi twisted his neck zombie-like, staring at them gloomily.
“Is it really appropriate to flirt in front of a monk? And Zhou Hui, I get the feeling your idea of those bells’ ‘use’ is not quite what I imagined… I’m already traumatized enough, don’t give me a psychological shadow.”
Zhou Hui stared, forgetting his wound for a moment. “When did you wake up?”
“Since you started with ‘once bitten by a snake, ten years afraid of ropes’—my pure mind has been corrupted by the two of you, Comrade Zhou Runhui,” Shenwan Tiansi said with a dead expression, raising his relatively intact right arm to cover his eyes.
But that was all he could move. His abdomen was pierced through, his left arm burned to a crisp, skin split and raw, reeking of roasted protein; thankfully, the burns stopped short of his heart, or he’d already be dead.
Chu He helped bandage him and gave him an adrenaline shot. “Why did the entire Fifth Unit defect? When were you captured and turned into a puppet?”
“I always followed a different sect; the Huang sect is radical, Central Yangjin Pingcuo was their spiritual leader… too complicated, forget it.” Shenwan Tiansi winced, speaking in broken breaths, “Even without this, Yangjin Pingcuo had been plotting to kill me. He disguised himself as Vice Yu, lured me here with some ghost story, said I was needed for an exorcism. As soon as I got here, I ran into those gray-robed Asuras with their demon bells—couldn’t even fight back… ah!”
He spasmed in pain, burying his head in Chu He’s lap, wheezing for a while before recovering. Then, trembling, “So… where’s Yangjin Pingcuo? What did that idiot do with the real Vice Yu?”
Chu He shook his head and both looked at Zhou Hui.
Zhou Hui, drenched in sweat, pale-faced, shook his head weakly, looking as bad as Shenwan Tiansi. Curled up alone in the dark corner, like a wounded beast licking its wounds.
“I was trying to tell you just now…” he paused, then said heavily, “I brought Zhang Shun from East City to here. But downstairs, I ran into Yangjin Pingcuo disguised as you. I was in a hurry to find you, thinking Buddha’s bone power was enough to handle him, so I left Zhang Shun alone down there…”
He coughed painfully twice, adding, “Zhang Shun agreed to it too.”
Chu He’s temple throbbed.
Zhou Hui immediately curled up tighter, face buried in his knees, groaning, “Ahh—why does my wound hurt so bad—”
“You should go,” Shenwan Tiansi said sympathetically to Chu He, “Just leave me two shots of adrenaline, I can manage.”
Chu He nodded. “Remember to call Zhou Hui over later.” He grabbed the silver spear, stood up with effort, and staggered out of the ruined ICU.
Once Chu He disappeared, Zhou Hui sprang up, tore off his bandages, and sighed. “Shit, got so caught up I forgot about the brother-in-law. If he hadn’t asked, I’d still not remember.”
Shenwan Tiansi lay flat, “Typical. You let comrades rot cold beside you.”
“I should be charging you for betraying the whole unit, so shut it!” Zhou Hui kicked him aside, bent to pick up the bloodstained pure blue bone arrow. As he suspected, the tip was scratched, likely from hitting a rib—it was chipped.
Zhou Hui touched the arrow, sighed, “I knew it…”
“It’s just an arrow, stop being petty,” Shenwan Tiansi said, grabbing a patient file for a pillow. “I heard this was from the Nine-headed Infant demon you killed? If so, I have a few in Tibet. I’ll send you a couple ribs next time.”
Zhou Hui smiled and walked toward where Chu He had gone.
For some reason, Shenwan Tiansi thought his smile looked strange, but couldn’t tell why in the dark. Zhou Hui had his sleeves rolled up, muscular arms exposed, one hand in his pocket, the other tapping the arrow against his back like a massage stick.
“——Not Nine Infants,” he said.
“This is my own bone.”
