Deputy Yu was sitting in his office smoking, filling the room with thick white smoke. When Zhou Hui pushed the door open and walked in, he was almost choked.
“Even if you confessed and got heartlessly rejected, kicked out of the house, you don’t need to be this miserable.” Zhou Hui walked into the office, coughing and fanning in front of his nose. Displeased, he said, “If you’re a man, don’t cry—stand up and fight! I’ll go with you to Zhongnanhai and wipe out those bastards. Then we’ll declare Guoan independent and crown ourselves kings. Want a raise? You’ll get a raise. Want a promotion? You’ll get it. We’ll buy twenty apartments inside the Third Ring. That beauty of yours will be in your bed tonight! Seriously, why are you putting on some melodrama act here like it’s Romance in the Rain?”
“…” Yu Jingzhong replied, “Yan Lanyu and I are not what you think. And besides, finding a wife isn’t about how many houses you own. What do you want?”
Zhou Hui scoffed, clearly disagreeing with Deputy Yu’s views, but didn’t argue right away. Instead, his eyes scanned the messy documents on the desk.
—He was so used to surveilling Chu He that he reflexively tried to check anything someone read behind his back. Yu Jingzhong didn’t bother hiding it either, openly spreading out his hands. It was clearly university recruitment brochures and admissions information from top Beijing colleges.
“Your daughter’s not that old yet, right?” Zhou Hui asked, surprised. “Isn’t she only two?”
He looked at Yu Jingzhong’s expression and suddenly realized: “Wait—Old Yu, you don’t mean… You’re not seriously playing the romantic here, sending your little beauty to college?”
Yu Jingzhong took a drag on his cigarette and nodded. Zhou Hui instantly burst out laughing and collapsed onto a chair.
“Man, you kill me! Hahaha—why didn’t I realize you were such a romantic? What are you, a former Qiong Yao actor? Hahahaha! You’ve got no looks and no money; just managing to catch that beauty was hard enough. Now you want to throw him into a sea of hot-blooded 20-year-old boys? You’re asking for a campus massacre! HAHAHA!”
Yu Jingzhong snapped, “Yan Lanyu deserves a life of his own! At his age, if he doesn’t experience a normal life now, he might never be able to live normally again!”
Zhou Hui eventually stopped laughing and stared at Yu Jingzhong, wagging a finger.
“I have to correct you there,” he said. “Phoenix Four and I both believe that Xiao Yan is perfectly normal—mentally mature and clear-headed, with the right to decide his own life. It’s rare for Phoenix Four to agree with me on anything these days, so you’d better respect our opinion. Besides, how many people could endure what he has at such a young age without falling apart? Look at No. 5, that idiot. He’s much older and still sneaks into my cabinet to read comic books—and he’s supposed to be a legitimate reincarnated Living Buddha!”
Yu Jingzhong impatiently waved him off. “He’s got self-destructive tendencies. Isn’t that dangerous enough?”
“Put yourself in his shoes—you’d probably not just self-destruct, you’d have killed yourself,” Zhou Hui said, comfortably crossing his legs. “Do you even know what status the kid had in the Mizongmen?”
Yu Jingzhong stubbed out his cigarette hard, then lit another.
“Child servant—basically treated like a non-human. Maybe just a step above ‘blood slaves’ who get their organs harvested. And anywhere in the world, kids who are too pretty don’t live safe lives. Innocent beauty with no means to protect it always attracts evil.” Zhou Hui clapped his hands. “Oh right, I heard the sect leader over there is about to go full demonic? Imagine what kind of person it takes to stay alive while going demonic. Twisted doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
Yu Jingzhong frowned tightly. He already looked like someone who worried too much, and now his forehead wrinkles stood out even more. “Are you done yet?”
“The kid grew up in hell and still came out upright and clear-minded. He’s not some fragile little flower you need to cradle. If you really want him to get a degree and become a civil servant, I’m sure he’d go along with it—but he might secretly think you’re laughable,” Zhou Hui said, rising and patting the wrinkles out of his sleeves. “That’s all the advice you’ll get from me. Listen or not, up to you… And cut back on the smoking.”
Yu Jingzhong paused. Was that concern?
Then Zhou Hui added, totally matter-of-fact: “—I still have to visit Phoenix Four later. What if he breathes in your secondhand smoke?”
“…” Yu Jingzhong roared, “What the hell did you even come here for, Zhou You Freak?!”
Zhou the Freak grinned, flashing his pearly whites.
“Almost forgot. I came to give a verbal invite,” he said. “No. 5 is out of the hospital, Phoenix Four’s recovered, and I’ve run out of excuses to imprison my ex anymore—Party at the Gongti bar tonight. My treat. Bring your little beauty along~”
·
Even the heavily injured Shenwan Tiansi had been discharged from the hospital. No matter how good Zhou Hui was at making excuses, he couldn’t argue that anything was wrong with Chu He anymore. Resigned, he finally tore off all the sealing talismans densely stuck around the ward and let his ex go.
He wasn’t too happy about it though. He’d gotten addicted to the little game of “imprison the ex and occasionally hook up.” Especially since Chu He, under his constant care, had recovered well from years of ill health and was now like a freshly baked, soft, fragrant cake—extra sensitive after brief separations, driving Zhou Hui to distraction.
Though the cake sometimes wanted to wrap itself in cling film and hide, Zhou Hui felt that cling film was no match for his eager hands. In moments of extreme passion, he even had the impulsive idea: Maybe we should have a third kid. Thankfully, Chu He’s last bit of reason remained intact—he clamped down and refused.
Zhou Hui, smoking afterwards, had to admit: it wasn’t the best idea. He did badly want a daughter, but what if it turned out to be another little debt-collector of a son? Could he return it?
Back when Maha was born, Zhou Hui had hoped for a daughter that looked like the Phoenix King. When that didn’t happen, at least the kid had inherited the King’s looks—barely acceptable as a substitute daughter. Then came Jia Louluo, the second child. Zhou Hui thought: This time, surely… But not only was it another son, he didn’t even inherit his mother’s looks. Zhou Hui nearly had a heart attack from the disappointment.
So whenever he saw Yu Jingzhong’s adorable two-year-old daughter, he felt deeply envious. He even thought about adopting one—but then remembered how anything Chu He adopted seemed doomed to go wrong. The Buddha Bone became a cursed brother-in-law, the nine-tailed fox turned into a gender-fluid freak, and even the once-innocent Shenwan Tiansi ended up a chips-eating, comic-reading couch potato.
What if their adopted daughter turned out to be a demonic overlord like her eldest brother? Or as stubbornly independent as the second, always running away from home?
Zhou Hui slouched in the bar booth, dumped some ice into his whisky, and sighed mournfully.
Zhang Shun asked, “What’s up with you now?”
Li Hu tapped her chin with her red-polished nails and smiled gleefully. “He wants a third kid, but your brother won’t agree.”
“Then have one yourself,” Zhang Shun said immediately.
Zhou Hui glanced lazily at Li Hu, then at Zhang Shun, eyes gleaming with a predatory, catlike danger. But his sister-in-law just kept adjusting the strap under her miniskirt, and his brother-in-law stared back defiantly.
“I can’t biologically,” Zhou Hui said languidly, swirling his whisky. “And besides, I’m deeply devoted and loyal to your brother. I’m not gonna find a mistress just to get a daughter.”
The bar was already buzzing, but not everyone had arrived yet—Yu Jingzhong, Yan Lanyu, and Chu He were all still on the way. Li Hu had just returned from a trip, wearing a low-cut miniskirt and posing for selfies, already attracting more than a dozen men trying to chat her up.
Zhang Shun looked around. Not far off, Shenwan Tiansi was munching chips, sipping soda, and watching Naruto—so focused that not even a thunderclap would faze him.
Finally, Zhang Shun couldn’t hold it in anymore. He cleared his throat.
“I… I have a question. About mistresses.”
“Keep it to yourself. You’re too young for mistresses,” Zhou Hui replied.
“Yangjin Pingcuo pretended to be Deputy Yu and told me the nine-tailed fox was your mistress—that’s why my brother stormed off. Is it true?”
Zhou Hui spat his whisky all over the table.
Li Hu instantly perked up—not excited, but ecstatic. She shoved Shenwan Tiansi aside, cozied up to Zhang Shun, and looped her arm around his neck.
“President Zhang,” she cooed sweetly, “I am Brother Zhou’s mistress. Your brother caught us in bed. It’s officially documented—you didn’t know?”
Shenwan Tiansi put down his comic book, brushed chip crumbs from his mouth, and pressed his palms together to bow toward Zhou Hui. “Amitabha.”
—No wonder the entire Fifth Division was rebelling. This kid was so immersed in otaku life, he’d even started chanting “Amitabha” instead of his own sect’s “Om Mani Padme Hum.” That’s just unprofessional.
Zhou Hui resisted the urge to beat the kid on the spot and turned to Li Hu. “When the hell did I make you my mistress? Speak clearly!”
“Did I say anything wrong?” Li Hu shot back. “The night before Phoenix Four went to the Demon Lord, didn’t you get drunk? Didn’t you wake up in bed with me the next morning? And wasn’t Phoenix Four standing at the door when you got up—naked?”
Zhang Shun’s entire face was frozen in a =口= expression, as Zhou Hui shouted angrily, “That never happened! I blacked out from drinking! I was with Phoenix Four the night before, and the next thing I knew, I woke up and saw you—how the hell should I know what happened?! Someone with a weak heart would’ve died on the spot!”
“It’s fine if you don’t remember,” Li Hu said sweetly. “Want me to reenact it for you? Hey, Heavenly Secretary, hand me my phone—I need to look up some spicy romance novels to spark inspiration…”
“This circle is just too depraved,” Shenwan Tiansi muttered, stuffing chips into his mouth as he handed over the phone. “Absolutely filthy.”
“You and Phoenix Four plotted together to frame me?” Zhou Hui slammed the table furiously, making it tremble. “He wanted an excuse to divorce me and couldn’t find a scandal, so you two made one up! And you just went along with it! —Come on, tell me what your story with Phoenix Four is. Why the hell did he go wandering into the Animal Realm that year, and why did he just happen to pick up you? A filthy little fox, and he brought you home and raised you! I told him to kill and eat you, but he wouldn’t listen. Worse, he even cuddled you to sleep every night…”
Li Hu puffed out her chest proudly, her eyes sparkling.
“He cuddled you until all nine of your tails came out, and then one day you transformed into a human. You used nude photos you secretly took to blackmail Phoenix Four into sleeping with you… I knew you had bad intentions! I should’ve turned you into a fur scarf—why did I let you waste so many years’ worth of food?!”
Li Hu blinked innocently. “I didn’t eat that much.”
“Wait… you really blackmailed my brother into sleeping with you?” Zhang Shun stammered, stunned. “I thought you were just joking that time. You—you—you—”
Li Hu grinned smugly. “Wrong. When I was still a little fox, I shared a bed with your brother many times. Only after I transformed did he refuse to actually sleep with me.” Then she added a bit sadly, “And he even beat me up. Cracked my sixth tail—had to use fur to cover the scar ever since…”
Zhang Shun looked utterly broken, staring blankly at Li Hu’s swaying assets like he’d just seen Sadako crawl out of a TV.
“What’s with that look? I was a femme fatale, after all. A man of Phoenix King’s level—of course I wanted to sleep with him first! Besides, I had just grown my ninth tail, and sleeping with your brother would’ve boosted my cultivation by three thousand years—it’s true! Zhou Hui wasn’t bad either, but our elements clash. Otherwise, I’d have slept with him too…”
Zhou Hui jumped in, desperate: “You all heard that, right? She just admitted I’m innocent!”
Zhang Shun, however, was still processing. “Wait—what do you mean your elements clash?”
“Zhou Hui doesn’t like girls,” Li Hu sighed with seductive flair, curling her fingers into a flower-like gesture. “But when I’m in male form, I’m always the top.”
Zhang Shun: “…”
Shenwan Tiansi: “…”
Shenwan Tiansi crunched another chip and muttered, “This circle really is just… pure chaos.”
Zhou Hui sneered, “Don’t underestimate this fox—especially you, little trinket. Watch your ass, or he’ll be coming for it.”
Zhang Shun immediately shifted away, panicking, while Zhou Hui snorted and solemnly declared, “As for me—aside from my future daughter, I’m not interested in any girls. But your brother still has half his heart tied to some other man. Once I kill that bastard Demon King Fan Luo for daring to cheat on me, and tame your brother properly, I’m going to find a way to have a baby girl… Damn it, if I get another little debt-collector son, I’ll jump into the Bloody Sea myself.”
Li Hu looked very displeased. “Is the country even allowing you to have three kids?”
“I can immigrate to the 33 Heavens and have one there.”
“Pfft, would your ex-wife even agree to have a third child with you?”
Zhou Hui responded graciously, “He won’t be my ex-wife for long, thank you for the reminder.” He pulled out a small velvet box from his pants pocket, popped it open, and inside were two dazzling black diamond rings. The light reflected off them so brilliantly it nearly blinded everyone.
“…Even in Heaven, you propose with diamond rings?” Zhang Shun asked, voice trembling.
“It’s all the rage these past two years. Gotta keep up with the times,” Zhou Hui replied casually. “Besides, I designed these myself. The diamonds have micro-carvings embedded inside—when you shine light at just the right angle, it projects a phoenix avatar hologram in mid-air. One of a kind, absolutely unique in all the realms—hmph! Everyone says Phoenix Four is the master of romance and aesthetics—well, now it’s my turn to show off my long-hidden true power!”
“…” Li Hu covered her mouth and whispered to Shenwan Tiansi, “I feel like Zhou the Tycoon is about to get smacked down again.”
“Shhh,” Shenwan Tiansi said, “Let him enjoy his moment. He’s used to getting wrecked anyway…”
Zhou Hui was admiring the rings, then carefully put the box back into his pocket. He was just about to launch into a stirring speech about defeating his romantic rival, reclaiming his territory, and conquering his wife with both financial and physical superiority when—
A sudden commotion broke out near the bar.
“What’s going on?” Zhou Hui craned his neck.
Li Hu was still ogling Zhang Shun, who was now huddling close to Shenwan Tiansi to protect his behind. The latter was still absorbed in Naruto, oblivious to everything. Only Zhou Hui sensed something was off and stood up, walking toward the bar.
The crowd was buzzing, excitement crackling through the air like electricity. Not even the pounding music could drown out the whispers:
“Hey hey, who’s that?”
“What happened? What’s going on?”
“Anyone know that guy?”
…
Zhou Hui stopped breathing.
Standing at the bar was a man in a fitted black shirt, top two buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His jeans clung to impossibly long legs. He pulled some large bills from his wallet and handed them to the bartender with calm, effortless grace.
“Sorry to intrude,” he said, “Mind if I borrow the bar to make a drink? I’ll be done in ten minutes.”
The bartender was so stunned that he dropped the bottle with a loud clang on the counter.
—It was Chu He.
But it wasn’t the mortal body he used in H City to hide his identity—it was his true form, his heavenly avatar. He had simply changed clothes and strolled in, just like that.
