Three Hours Later, in Zhou Hui’s Office
Li Hu peeked her head out sneakily from a corner and asked, “How’s your Boss Zhou’s mood right now?”
Team One was full of sharp young men with above-average looks, already well-accustomed to being flirted with by their flirtatious nine-tailed fox team leader. The two team members on guard at the door looked startled by her unexpectedly serious (not really) expression.
“No idea. Doesn’t seem any different from usual?”
One of them laughed, “Did Team Leader Six do something to piss off our boss?”
Li Hu scoffed, “I work so hard traveling around all day, how could I possibly offend your boss?” Then she lowered her voice, “—Did you guys see Deputy Director Yu this morning?”
“Deputy Yu had a meeting outside, right? Didn’t look too good,” said the guy on the left, smirking. “Team Leader Six, you definitely did something bad, didn’t you? Don’t tell us you slept with Deputy Yu yesterday? No wonder the man looked completely spent today…”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Zhou Hui suddenly swung the door open, expression cold and sharp. “Who slept with whom, hmm?”
The two young men immediately shut up, eyes to nose, nose to heart, standing frozen like statues.
Li Hu coughed guiltily in Zhou Hui’s intense gaze and slowly stepped out from the corner. Her usual high heels were gone, no more mini skirt either—she was now properly dressed, carrying a black briefcase, and greeted obsequiously, “Hello, Boss Zhou.”
Zhou Hui barked with authority: “Get in!”
Li Hu crept into the office along the wall. The moment the door closed behind her, Zhou Hui exploded—literally—kicking her three meters away: “You little demon! Should’ve turned you into a fox-fur scarf long ago. It’s all Feng Si’s fault for spoiling you!”
Li Hu landed flat on her face with a thud, then scrambled back up and protested pitifully, “All I did was get him to drink a little! Just a tiny love potion to stir up some feelings! How was I supposed to know he’d down the whole thing?! That’s not my fault!”
“You’re really screwed now,” Zhou Hui snapped.
“There was a hearing this morning for our little beauty to explain how he crossed over from the Tokyo Mizongmen sect to China. Yu Jingzhong was just supposed to drop him off. Instead, he got so dazed he nearly followed him into the hearing room. The higher-ups thought something was off with him and handed him over to national security. And then—boom—they ran into Feng Si.”
“Didn’t anything actually happen though?” Li Hu insisted, feeling wronged. “Yu Jingzhong’s not dead from overexertion, and the little beauty didn’t get laid to death either! So why were you yelling at me this morning? Did Yu Jingzhong try to molest Feng Si or something while still high?”
“Get lost!” Zhou Hui barked.
“You know Feng Si has that built-in ‘therapist aura.’ His face basically screams ‘I’m your understanding older sister.’ One look and Yu Jingzhong went all emotional, like a Red Army soldier seeing their long-lost comrade or a peasant finally seeing blue skies again! They went off to have a little heart-to-heart!”
Zhou Hui sat down heavily in his chair, slamming documents onto the desk in irritation.
“Feng Si asked for an hour off! Yu Jingzhong personally vouched that he’d return him safely! And from ten minutes ago, Feng Si has officially been out of my perceptual range for a full hour!”
He pointed at Li Hu, full of fury. “This is all your damn fault!”
“…” Li Hu said sincerely, “Honestly, you’re the one who needs a therapist. You should really go see one.”
Zhou Hui was obviously furious, checking his watch over and over. Li Hu had heard a theory once that a person’s gaze could emit some kind of bio-energy. If that were true, in five minutes Zhou Hui’s Vacheron Constantin was going to explode from overheating.
“Can you chill out with your control freak complex?”
Li Hu muttered, rubbing her temples. She slammed the black briefcase onto the table.
“An hour isn’t even enough to get to the underworld. You afraid Feng Si’s gonna run off or something? He’s your ex now, can you stop being so paranoid about the color of the hat on your head? Be a man! Face the blood! Embrace the green!”
Zhou Hui clearly wasn’t in the mood for her nonsense. He just stared coldly at the briefcase. “What’s in there?”
Li Hu input a code and click—the case unlocked. A blast of cold white vapor hissed out. Because the office was warm, condensation immediately formed on the surrounding tabletop.
“That thing you asked me to find in H City? It was really under the stone cave. I rushed back to Beijing yesterday, but you left early from the bar, so I couldn’t give it to you.”
She opened the case fully, more cold mist flooding out. The office temperature dropped by five degrees.
“You just said it, and I had to fly back and forth between H City and Beijing, digging under that cave all night. And then I got beat up on my return,” Li Hu muttered bitterly.
No wonder your kid’s looking for a stepdad and your wife became your ex. At this point, I support Feng Si cheating and finding his second spring.”
Zhou Hui didn’t even have the energy to hit her.
“Back when you were forging evidence of me cheating and helping Feng Si leave me for the Demon Lord, weren’t you already supporting his second spring? You know how many times the gods from the Thirty-Three Heavens chewed me out over this? They said Phoenix King defected because he was heartbroken over my betrayal. Heartbroken, my ass!”
Li Hu shrank back, staying silent and staring at the briefcase.
As the mist cleared, the contents became visible: inside was a transparent glass container held steady by brackets. Zhou Hui recognized it as one of the best mini cryo-storage units available, capable of reaching -100°C and maintaining it for 48 hours.
Inside the container sat a tiny lotus-shaped support structure, delicately cradling a glowing red pearl the size of a thumb.
Even through the cold, the red pearl radiated a dazzling aura—like a burning star, or a fiercely concentrated inferno. Zhou Hui’s handsome face looked shadowed in the glow. After a long pause, he murmured, “Just as I thought… They went all out.”
“What is it?” Li Hu asked curiously.
Zhou Hui didn’t answer her directly. “How did you find it?”
“I dug it up, obviously. The day Zhang Shun brought it back to Beijing from H City, you told me there might be something else under that stone cave. So I turned around and flew back to H City that night. The cleanup crew was just about to seal the cave when I begged and pleaded with them to let me dig…”
Zhou Hui interrupted, “If you used the line ‘Let me in and I’ll sleep with you,’ no wonder they ignored you. Then what?”
“I think he was tempted. He didn’t say a word the whole time, but he did stay and help me dig all night.” Li Hu said optimistically, “We found it the next day, about three zhang (ten meters) deep, half-fused into the earth. It melts instantly when exposed to heat, so I bought this cryo-box to bring it back.” Then she asked, “So what is it? And how did you know something would be in the cave?”
Zhou Hui picked up the container and narrowed his sharp eyes.
The red glow reflected in his pupils turned them blood-tinged. With his devilishly handsome face, he looked almost like a vampire from legend.
“I know what this is… but I don’t know what it’s for.”
He stared at the red pearl, slowly saying, “Back in H City, I already wondered—why was Feng Si so desperate to leave Mohe in that cave? When the Demon Lord tried to take Mohe, Feng Si turned on him instantly. He ended up surrendering to me without any help from the Demon Realm. There had to be a reason.”
Li Hu asked, surprised, “Does it have to do with this pearl?”
“—Back when the phoenix took Mohe’s place and was burned by divine judgment, I pulled him out at the last second. He then forced himself into human form and charged back into the flames.” Zhou Hui gently set the cryo-container on the desk. “This is what he brought out—dug from his own remains. The phoenix’s eyeball.”
Meanwhile
Deputy Yu sat cross-legged in a tearoom sofa, silently smoking.
The waiter stood awkwardly nearby, holding a teapot and unsure what to do. He was clearly new and didn’t know whether to remind the guest that smoking wasn’t allowed indoors, or just let it slide because the boss had greeted him so warmly earlier and he tipped generously.
“What?” Yu Jingzhong finally looked up, motioning at his empty teacup. “Pour it.”
He was terrifying even when silent. The waiter practically jumped when he looked up. His eyes were bloodshot, face unshaven, scratch marks on his neck, expensive dress shirt wrinkled like a street vendor’s merchandise—he looked like a man who had just suffered through the Great Depression and three divorces.
“S-Sir, smoking isn’t allowed in the private rooms…”
“I’ll handle it,” Chu He rose and took the teapot from the waiter, calm but firm. “You may leave.”
The waiter hesitated, then quietly stepped out—though the door was left slightly ajar. Chu He didn’t seem to care. He poured Yu’s tea himself and asked, “Why’d you come to me about this? Shouldn’t you have gone to Zhou Hui?”
“I already did,” Yu Jingzhong grumbled, rubbing his temples. “He said no. Damn it, is he just waiting for me to die and stir up drama?”
“Waiting for what, exactly?”
“Yan Lanyu!”
Chu He poured himself a cup of tea. “I don’t think you should go through with it, but I also don’t support your request to erase Yan Lanyu’s memories of last night. That said—why do you want to alter his memory, but not your own?”
Yu Jingzhong stubbed out his cigarette, his face grim, and lit another one, taking a deep drag.
“If we hadn’t known each other for so long, I’d think you were just another scumbag who hits it and quits it… although, to be honest, you’re not far off,” Chu He remarked with amusement. “Do you have some special reason? If you can convince me, maybe it’s not entirely out of the question.”
Deputy Yu finally lifted his eyes from the swirling smoke — with a face that aged prematurely, the moment he looked up, the wrinkles on his forehead appeared immediately. “I don’t want him to die for me a third time. Is that reason good enough?”
Chu He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“The first time he saw me, he nearly died; the second time he saw me, he almost died again. Old Four, you and Zhou Hui have lived for thousands of years — do you even know what it’s like to face death? Especially when you voluntarily throw yourself into death like a sacrifice. Do you know what that feels like?”
“I actually do,” Chu He smiled, lowering his eyes to the steam rising from his teacup. “But only when it comes to my own children… though that’s not the point. Go on.”
“I’m telling you — that kid lived in that tantric sect for too long. The slightest bit of normal human warmth, he clings to it like a drowning man grabbing at straws. I’m nowhere near as great as he thinks I am. I’m just an ordinary man. But in the first decade or so of his life, he never even met a normal person. So when he finally did, he clung to it, thought it was precious, and thought he fell in love. But it’s all just an illusion.”
“Are you feeling inferior?” Chu He asked with a grin.
“I just know myself well,” Yu Jingzhong pointed at himself and said, “If I were a bit more selfish, I’d just keep going along with it. I’ve got Minmin with me; I wasn’t planning to find anyone else anyway. Let things go on for a few years, even a decade. But Yan Lanyu doesn’t even know what he’s doing right now. When he grows up, matures, meets more people, and then looks back at me — he’ll think he wasted his best years on someone completely undeserving.”
Chu He was still smiling. “Then why not erase your memory too?”
Yu Jingzhong stiffened his neck and waved him off. “Just make him forget. I’ll send him to school, let him meet kids his age, and see the world. Whether he ends up with a girl and has kids or finds a man and lives his life, as long as I’m alive and I see him happy, I can die with no regrets. As for everything I leave behind, he and Minmin can split it. Thankfully the mortgage is paid off — won’t be hard to sell the place.”
“I can begrudgingly accept that reason,” Chu He said, “but I still think you’re taking away his right to choose. Choices made in confusion and uncertainty, driven by instinct, aren’t necessarily wrong.”
Yu Jingzhong gave him a complicated look — the kind that said, you can’t possibly understand — and drank some tea.
His cigarette pack lay on the table. Chu He reached over, pulled one out, and didn’t light it right away, just turned it slowly in his fingers. Government bureaucrats were poor, but they had this one perk — their cigarettes were all exclusive government-issued brands. Probably worth quite a bit if sold online — not that it mattered, since he’d smoked them all himself.
“When I chose Zhou Hui…” Chu He said slowly, “it was under similar circumstances.”
Yu Jingzhong said, “Zhou Hui told me it was because he was devastatingly handsome, and the moment you saw him you dropped your sword and surrendered. He proposed, you said yes, and then the two of you retired from the world, happier than a pair of lovebirds… Damn it, I knew I shouldn’t have believed him.”
“It’s true that he proposed and I said yes,” Chu He smiled. “And honestly, when he assumed human form… in all of Blood Sea, you probably couldn’t find another like him in a thousand years. Even their Demon Lord…”
He trailed off, brushing past the point.
With a snap, he lit the cigarette and took a drag — to Yu Jingzhong’s utter shock.
Back when he was still the leader of Phoenix Division Four, as the Phoenix King, Chu He had always carried a lofty, untouchable aura, untouched by mortal things. Even something like coughing or burping was unimaginable — let alone smoking. But now, with his cool, detached face and long fingers holding the cigarette, a wisp of smoke curling around his lashes, his slightly tilted posture gave off a strangely otherworldly feeling.
“The day he proposed to me, I was actually kneeling before the Buddha, reciting scripture…” Chu He said dreamily. “And one of the Tantric sect’s great kings came by, again trying to convince me to marry his sister. He’d been pestering me for ages. I was running out of patience, but since he was one of the Five Great Wisdom Kings, I couldn’t just reject him outright… That’s when a message came from Luminous Heaven — the demon army had once again reached our gates. I took the excuse to go watch the battle.”
“Zhou Hui was one of the demon generals in that war. He charged all the way to the gates of Heaven and asked me, right there, if I wanted to leave with him. Everyone was watching — the king, his sister, the entire battlefield — and I suddenly felt rebellious and just… said yes.”
Chu He gently exhaled a smoke ring and added calmly, “But that was just the trigger. At the time, I was already deeply suspicious of the Heavenly Dao because of other things. Suspicion, anger, and resentment were eating at me. So agreeing to go with Zhou Hui, you could say it was love at first sight… or you could say it was an act of defiance, a rebellious impulse driven by inner demons.”
“…” Yu Jingzhong’s voice trembled. “So you…”
“At first, we were just friends with benefits for many years. Sometimes I would shut off all six senses, so I didn’t really care anymore,” Chu He said. “Sorry for ruining your last shred of good impression toward Buddhism. My bad.”
Yu Jingzhong’s hand holding the cigarette trembled slightly. He took a sip of tea to hide his face.
“But even the worst beginning can switch scripts midway,” Chu He paused, “and become a story that, while imperfect, is uniquely yours. Choices made when one is at their lowest and most lost aren’t necessarily wrong. Based on my own experience, I don’t think you should suppress yourself just to force someone else onto the so-called ‘right path.’”
Yu Jingzhong lowered his head, his sharply defined face blurred by cigarette smoke and steam from the tea.
“This is someone’s whole life…” After a long pause, he said slowly, “I can’t gamble a teenager’s life like that. It’d be too selfish.”
Chu He looked slightly helpless. “If that’s how you see it, I’ll have Zhou Hui talk to Xiao Yan first. Also, cut back on the smoking. Don’t copy Zhou Hui. He got lung cancer and just swapped in a new one—what about you? Are you going to swap yours too?”
—It was rare for the head of Phoenix Unit 4 to talk someone down like this. Normally, before the wrathful Wisdom Kings strike demons down, they always ask: ‘Do you take refuge or not?’ If the answer is no, then they kill. Only Chu He skipped that part and struck first. Back in the day, a great demon from the Blood Sea once questioned why he killed without giving a chance to convert. Chu He said, “Whether or not you take refuge has nothing to do with me. I respect your freedom to choose your beliefs.”
So for him to give such advice now was as rare as Zhou Hui nagging someone for three whole days.
Yu Jingzhong clasped his hands together in thanks and was just about to say something when his phone suddenly rang.
“Oh?” He glanced at the number. “Level-one emergency. How strange.”
He made an apologetic gesture, picked up his phone, and walked to the door. Just before stepping out, he remembered Zhou Hui’s warning earlier—not to leave Chu He alone, not even for a minute. He looked back, only to see Chu He smoking and casually playing on his phone, glancing up innocently: “What’s up?”
The ringtone blared. Yu Jingzhong waved a hand and walked out.
·
The door slammed shut. Chu He sat there in the same posture for a moment, then quietly put down his phone.
At that moment, there was a knock at the door. A waiter asked from outside, “Sir, would you like to settle the bill?”
“No,” Chu He said mildly. “I’ve been paying my own bills for years. Once in a while, I’d like someone else to pay.”
The waiter walked in, closed the door behind him, and approached Chu He’s chair. His ordinary-looking face was still smiling faintly, but the skin behind his ears and around his neck had started to peel away like cheap tape, slowly curling and falling off as his smile widened.
He reached out—his hand unnaturally firm and muscular, bones jutting out with a menacing energy.
In the next second, he easily plucked the cigarette from Chu He’s fingers, took a puff himself, and leaned in to whisper with a chuckle, “—Then let me pay for you.”
“Fan Luo,” Chu He said, expressionless, “You’re getting bold.”
The “waiter’s” face finally shed its human disguise completely, revealing the true face of the Demon Lord, streaked with black markings. One hand gripped Chu He’s shoulder with enough force that the bone visibly protruded; the other handed the cigarette back. Chu He calmly stubbed it out on the table.
“So the Wrathful Wisdom King once nearly married the Snow Mountain Goddess to you,” Fan Luo said with interest, as if amused by the earlier story. “Such twisted thinking… worth analyzing. What happened to her?”
“Zhou Hui seduced her. They broke up soon after. She tried to assassinate me in her anger, failed, and fell into the six realms of reincarnation. I don’t know where she ended up… Don’t look at me like that,” Chu He said lazily. “Back then, I had all my senses shut off. I was no different from a breathing corpse.”
“Must’ve been a stunning and seductive corpse,” Fan Luo said, stroking his chin. “You didn’t even care what was happening to your own body?”
Chu He waved his hand, looking a bit disinterested. “Why are you here?”
Yu Jingzhong was still outside on the call, seemingly dealing with some emergency and showing no sign of returning.
Fan Luo was unbothered by the risk of being seen, and leisurely pulled out a chair—this alone showed that the power Zhou Hui had sealed in him was almost fully recovered. The moment he sat down, his overwhelming demonic aura forced Chu He to turn his face away.
As his power returned, his fear of Zhou Hui diminished, and even the last bit of subtle caution he had toward Chu He was vanishing.
“I came to apologize,” the Demon Lord said with a polite smile. “I didn’t send the Asuras to drag you to the Four Evil Paths. They acted on their own. And your ex-husband was right—if I want to take you to the Demon Realm, I should do it personally, to show you the proper respect.”
The demonic aura he radiated was so intense that Chu He leaned back slightly and narrowed his eyes. “You want to fight me, Fan Luo?”
“I heard that to properly propose marriage, one must show up in person. Otherwise, the other party might refuse or string you along. You’ve been stringing me along for years. Ever since Maha emerged from the stone cave, he’s been acting like he wants to cut ties too. Maybe it’s because I haven’t shown enough sincerity.”
The Demon Lord grabbed Chu He’s wrist. Black mist slithered under his skin like snakes, turning into web-like blood patterns. Chu He’s face changed slightly.
“So I’m here now to take you, Phoenix King.” The Demon Lord stood and gave a courtly bow. “You can think of it as a proposal if you’d like.”
Before he finished, Chu He abruptly stepped back—but the Demon Lord was faster. He followed so closely that the distance never widened, and in a flash, Chu He was slammed against the wall!
With a loud thud, Chu He’s head hit the wall. He barked, “Let go!”
But the Demon Lord didn’t, staring coldly into his eyes. “Have you underestimated my strength, Your Highness?”
The ground beneath him cracked with a sharp sound as tiles shattered and split in all directions—the demonic aura was so strong it corroded everything around him into dust.
Chu He’s expression finally changed. “You don’t have my heart’s blood—how did you…? Was it Maha?!”
To see that expression on his face was a rare delight. The Demon Lord savored it, then calmly said, “Don’t worry. Your little brat is fine in the Blood Sea. He’s about to make himself the overlord there. As for me—why would I appear in the human realm without absolute certainty I can subdue you?”
Chu He’s breath caught for a second. In the confined space, he locked eyes with the Demon Lord.
Outside, the sounds of tea being served and people walking around were muffled through the door, making the tension inside even more suffocating. After a moment, Chu He’s posture finally relaxed. He said coolly, “If you can’t subdue me, Zhou Hui will get to me first.”
He used his free hand to unbutton his shirt—one by one, from top to bottom—revealing his shoulder bones and chest.
The Demon Lord looked momentarily surprised—etched into Chu He’s skin from his collarbone to his heart were nine forbidden characters. Each character was sharp and fierce, and together they formed a crouching, ferocious beast ready to pounce.
“All nine of my gates are sealed. My three souls and seven spirits are locked. There’s even a chained ring through my spine. The moment I step beyond the threshold of the human world, the seals will explode at the border marker. This body will die instantly…”
There was a trace of mockery and self-deprecation in Chu He’s eyes. “Now do you see the gap between us? Sometimes I wonder why you became Lord of the Four Evil Paths instead of Zhou Hui. He’s way more ruthless than you.”
The Demon Lord reached to touch the seal, squinting as he was about to speak—when suddenly, footsteps approached from outside the private room.
Facing Zhou Hui directly now would be a bad move. The Demon Lord let go and took a step back.
“The bone lock is off-limits, but the nine gates can be broken. I was hoping to take you away before the next incident happens… but it seems we’re out of time.”
The doorknob turned. The Demon Lord smirked and said playfully, “This time, I’ll let Zhou Hui’s old flame do you in properly.”
With that, his figure vanished into thin air just as Yu Jingzhong entered.
Inside, the room was a mess—tea spilled everywhere. Chu He stood against the wall, buttoning his shirt one by one.
Yu Jingzhong was stunned. “—What happened to you?”
“I fell,” Chu He said while finishing up his buttons, clearly unwilling to elaborate. “What about you? Something urgent?”
Yu Jingzhong sensed something was wrong but couldn’t afford to press right now.
“Yes. A high-ranking official’s family member died—under very strange, supernatural circumstances.” He waved his phone with a hint of helplessness. “Zhou Hui is already on the way… He told me to bring you back to him immediately.”
