Chapter 95: “None Are Innocent!”
Do not be fooled by Gu Qing Yi’s seemingly idle days of feasting, lodging, and living without spending a coin—one might assume her expenses were trivial. Yet, the truth was far from it!
A single cut of an M5-grade spirit steak—how much did that cost? Those sausages infused with Maotai wine—what was their worth per jin?
And what of the fine abalone and seafood, gifted generously by Boss Fang, alongside those bundles of supreme spirit herbs? All these rare delicacies had not been spared from Gu Qing Yi’s appetite.
The highest-quality tea leaves, costing a fortune per jin—yet, in her hands, they were casually grabbed by the handful and steeped into milk tea!
And this luxurious villa—how much was its rent per moon cycle? In the open market, it would fetch tens of thousands. Even if its reputation as a haunted dwelling had lowered its value, and even if Chen Yan had agreed to share the space, the portion falling on Gu Qing Yi was no less than ten thousand.
A full moon had passed since she had taken residence by Chen Yan’s side. The extravagant feasts, the residence, the clothing, the spirit communication device he bought her—all of it, when converted to silver, amounted to no less than fifty thousand!
And where did all this wealth come from?
From Chen Yan, of course—earned through his arcane arts!
If he were but a powerless youth, would Boss Fang have ever gifted him such precious cuts of steak and fine teas?
Yet therein lay the crux of the matter. Chen Yan had spent silver upon an outsider, and so, he had suffered the curse of retribution.
And Gu Qing Yi—she too had spent Chen Yan’s wealth, and thus, she too had been ensnared by the backlash of fate.
Realization struck Chen Yan like a bolt of lightning. Cold sweat ran down his spine.
These past moons—how much wealth had he frivolously spent!
Just returning home for the New Year, he had thrown over a hundred thousand silver taels into the wind!
And those who had reaped the benefits of his generosity were many!
With mounting unease, Chen Yan began to list those closest to him.
Lu Si Si? The Old Village Chief?
Lu Si Si, truth be told, had cost him little. Beyond the feasts of the New Year, the most extravagant gift he had given was a down coat worth but a few hundred taels.
Besides, when he had purchased that coat, his cultivation had barely begun. Back then, he had still been a mere mortal, with some silver stored away. When the Heavenly Dao tallied debts, that coat’s cost could perhaps be deemed separate from his mystic earnings.
Yes, Lu Si Si should be safe.
And what of the hundred-odd households of his village?
The New Year tributes—those could be reasoned away. Each household had received goods worth eight or nine hundred taels, but all had returned gifts in kind—chickens, ducks, fish, local delicacies, eggs. Though some disparities remained, at worst, the balance tipped by a mere three to five hundred taels per household.
Such trifling sums should not be enough to invoke the wrath of Heaven’s Retribution.
But then—
The Old Village Chief’s household!
To him, Chen Yan had gifted fine cigars and Maotai wine, their worth climbing into the thousands.
The Old Village Chief had offered but a few chickens and local goods in return—far from enough to repay the debt.
If another had been at risk, Chen Yan might not have been so troubled. But the Old Village Chief—besides his grandmother, the elder was the last true tie he had to his homeland.
Without hesitation, he seized his spirit communication device and called the old man.
The moment the call connected, a robust voice greeted him. The elder’s vitality was strong, his breath even—he was unharmed.
Feigning casual conversation, Chen Yan exchanged a few words before ending the call, deep in thought.
[So… the reckoning has not yet come?]
Of course—it made sense. Gu Qing Yi had been feasting and residing freely for a full moon before her Heavenly Debt was called.
The Old Village Chief had only received his gifts a few days prior. The curse’s backlash had not yet arrived.
Taking a deep breath, Chen Yan relayed his findings to Gu Qing Yi, along with the words his grandmother had once imparted.
She furrowed her brows, contemplating his words, before shaking her head. “Such a restriction—outsiders may not spend your wealth—does not exist within the Gu Family’s arts.
“However, your Exalted Master was of the Ghost Race, and their arts are notoriously strange and unpredictable. It is possible that there exists a unique Heavenly Mandate imposed upon such a cultivation method. In the Domain Realm, I have heard tales of Ghost Cultivation Arts carrying mysterious, unfathomable restrictions.”
After further thought, she added, “Since this is a curse, then our only course is to break it.”
A strategy formed within Chen Yan’s mind. “Your curse can be dispelled easily enough. You have never studied my grandmother’s arts. If I pass you but one or two rudimentary techniques, even the most basic, then you would be counted as one of my own—no longer an outsider. By then, the curse upon you will dissolve.”
He frowned. “But you are easy enough to save. Teaching you a few techniques is trivial. What of the others? The Old Village Chief is over seventy! It is impossible for him to learn the arts—he has never cultivated, nor could he begin now.”
Gu Qing Yi sighed, shaking her head. “What kind of accursed cultivation is this? Poisonous, perhaps?”
With a somber tone, Chen Yan replied, “In less than two moons, I have risen from a mere mortal to the Origin Stage.”
She was momentarily stunned. “…An exceptional art! As expected of a technique passed down by the Exalted One!”
However, after brief contemplation, she shook her head. “Even so, I cannot learn your arts. The Gu Family’s techniques are my foundation. Mixing foreign arts may disrupt my Dao Heart, and besides—there are strict ancestral rules within my clan.”
Chen Yan’s frown deepened. “If you refuse my teachings, then you will always remain an outsider. From this moment forth, you must provide for yourself—food, clothing, lodging. You may no longer dwell within my home. If you stay, you will only invoke the curse of backlash again.”
Teeth clenched, Gu Qing Yi trembled in fury, voice low with barely contained rage. “I can feel my killing intent rising once more.”
She turned her gaze toward the heated floors, the lavish furnishings of the grand villa, and the mountains of delicacies she had grown accustomed to…
A true test of will had begun.
The memory of those harsh days resurfaced—braving wind and frost, stomach empty to the point of dizziness, reduced to laboring in a cyber café, sleeping in a cramped storage room, and spending sleepless nights ferrying bowls of instant noodles to internet-dwelling wanderers…
Gu Qing Yi was stunned.
Chen Yan waved his hand dismissively. “No matter what, our current illness is no great calamity. With our constitutions, this shouldn’t be an issue. What matters now is understanding the cycle of Heaven’s Reckoning.”
“A month,” Gu Qing Yi sighed.
The answer struck Chen Yan like a sudden epiphany.
When Gu Qing Yi arrived at his home, they had met, and from then on, she had stayed with him—exactly three days after New Year’s Day. January third!
And today, they both fell ill—February fifth.
For an ordinary illness, considering an incubation period of two days, then they must have caught the virus on February third.
A full month’s reckoning.
Chen Yan calculated swiftly—
A month ago, on the first day of the new year, he had given the Old Village Chief gifts worth several thousand silver.
By this reckoning, there were still three and a half weeks before the next reckoning.
“That’s not how you should count it.” Gu Qing Yi sighed again. “You’re right about the Old Village Chief’s calculation.
You’re right that the entire village—more than a hundred households—was involved.
But you only considered whether others would be cursed, not the backlash upon yourself.
By your logic, the village, each household giving back gifts, evens out to a difference of a few hundred silver per family. Divide that among the family members, and each person barely shoulders a hundred silver in debt to Heaven.
Such a paltry amount per person—Heaven does not exact retribution upon individuals for sums so trivial.
But that’s for the villagers.
For you, the one who initiated it, the entire shortfall of over a hundred families falls upon your shoulders. A mere five hundred silver per household adds up to over fifty thousand silver in total.
Heaven does not punish the villagers, but it will punish you.”
Chen Yan was dumbfounded.
“At worst, it’s just an illness. Endure this one first,” Gu Qing Yi sighed. “But from now on, tread carefully.”
She continued in an unshaken tone, “You remember the exact date you gave gifts to the village. By that calculation, in twenty-two days, you’ll fall ill again. I spent around thirty to fifty thousand of your silver, and next month, the villagers will spend about the same from your coffers… Your affliction should be similar to this one.”
Wonderful—
Cultivation had reached the point where even illnesses could be scheduled like clockwork.
Chen Yan rolled his eyes.
“You needn’t worry too much about the Old Village Chief either.” Gu Qing Yi spoke steadily. “I have lived in your home for a month—my daily expenses, food, clothing, and shelter easily surpass the gifts you gave to the Old Village Chief. And yet, here I am, merely suffering from a fever.
For the Old Village Chief, even if he suffers some backlash, it will be far lighter than mine. Likely just a fleeting headache or minor chills.”
Fleeting…
That word did not sit well with Chen Yan. He winced.
An old man in his seventies—illnesses at such an age were unpredictable. Some elders remained hale and hearty, only to be brought down by what seemed like an inconsequential ailment.
Chen Yan sighed.
But Gu Qing Yi’s reasoning was sound. She had spent tens of thousands of his silver and was only down with a fever. The Old Village Chief’s affliction should indeed be much milder.
Yes, he would keep a close eye on the old man’s health.
Still, this cultivation art… was truly uncanny!
A practitioner at the Origin Stage, capable of slaying demons with bare hands, alongside a Celestial of the Realm, now both curled up on a sofa, plastered with cooling fever patches.
No one to cook lunch, so Chen Yan ordered a delivery—fish porridge and a few side dishes.
Gu Qing Yi stared at the food for a long time, weighing her options.
Eating meant spending more of Chen Yan’s silver—thus deepening the next month’s backlash.
Not eating…
[Why should I go hungry?]
Steeling herself, she spoke with unshaken resolve, “Once my Ghost Marriage is concluded next month, I’ll return to the Domain Realm! This world’s Heavenly Dao—let it try to pursue me there if it dares!”
With that, she seized a bowl of fish porridge and dug in.
Chen Yan glanced at the twenty-one-year-old little stepmother.
[Oh sure, you’re enjoying yourself! But it’s all my silver being spent!]
[You can flee to the Domain Realm, but next month, I’ll still be here, suffering the backlash. The more money spent, the heavier the retribution!]
Still…
[Fine. Can’t exactly let her starve.]
Chen Yan ate in silence, his mind running through the intricate workings of this Heaven’s Reckoning.
He had begun to unravel some of its patterns.
Unexpectedly, the key lay in two people he had nearly overlooked—the Cyber Café Boss Lady and Boss Fang!
After embarking on his cultivation path, he had become entangled with Luo Qing from Falling Cloud Retreat over an incident involving Boss Fang and the Boss Lady’s three younger brothers. That entanglement led him to cross paths with Chu Ke Qing.
It was his display of magic arts that had awed Chu Ke Qing—leading her to believe him an immortal hermit, a ninety-one-year-old master indulging in worldly pleasures.
Chu Ke Qing had then gifted tens of thousands in silver to the Boss Lady.
She had also compensated Boss Fang handsomely.
Yet—
Boss Fang and the Boss Lady remained unscathed!
This meant there was a flaw in Heaven’s calculation.
Silver—
As long as it was not directly spent from his own hands, it seemed to escape the Heavenly Dao’s scrutiny!
Chu Ke Qing had given money to the café owner and Boss Fang. Although it was because he had flexed his abilities, the transaction had an extra layer of separation—
The money came from Chu Ke Qing’s hand, not his.
A loophole.
But… it wasn’t a perfect solution.
Especially concerning those closest to him.
Gu Qing Yi didn’t count—she was a Celestial and would soon depart from this realm.
But what about Lu Si Si?
From this day forth, she was his woman—
And yet he was forbidden from spending his wealth on her?
Lu Si Si was no woman of greed, but what kind of love was it if a man did not provide? Meals, strolls, the silver screen—these all required coin. And should the time come to seek a chamber for their affections, would he demand that she pay?
He resided in a grand estate, his coffers held untold riches—yet he could not spare a single piece of silver for the one in his heart? What kind of man would that make him?
A shrimp-headed fool, most certainly.
To be reckless in generosity was the mark of a simpleton, but to clutch one’s purse before one’s beloved was no virtue either.
Chen Yan and Little Madam Gu had idled the day away within their manor. Even Gu Qing Yi, for once, had not dragged a chair to the courtyard to bask in the winter chill.
Serves her right! Flaunting her celestial physique so brazenly.
Chen Yan chuckled inwardly.
A cold—whether one swallowed medicine or not—could not be cured, merely endured. The two of them had spent the day confined to their quarters, emerging only when the hunger within grew unbearable, exchanging brief messages through enchanted scripts before summoning sustenance through couriers.
As dusk descended, Chen Yan lay upon his bed when the chime of the doorbell echoed through the house. He hesitated. He had not called for any provisions yet.
Rising with effort, he steadied himself against the railing as he descended. The affliction gnawed at his bones, the Heavenly Dao’s backlash making this more than a common cold.
Upon reaching the doorway, he cast a glance at the monitoring crystal, only to see a familiar face—an elderly man whose grin carried a hint of mischief.
The Old Fox of the Neighboring House—Lin Qing Quan.
Chen Yan pressed the voice crystal. “Old Lin, what brings you here?”
“Saw the lights of your manor aglow after the New Year and reckoned you had returned. Thought I’d pay my respects and offer a blessing for the season.” Lin Qing Quan’s smile was warm, his voice light.
Chen Yan released the lock rune. “The gate is open. Let yourself in.”
Moments later, Lin Qing Quan stepped into the grand hall. Chen Yan, wrapped in a thick quilt, leaned against the frame of the door, his breath misting in the chill.
Lin Qing Quan’s gaze swept over him before a chuckle escaped his lips. “Ailing, are we?”
“A common cold.” Chen Yan sighed. “It is not that I lack courtesy, but should you depart now, I would not take offense—I’d not wish to pass this ailment onto you. Another day, I shall visit and pay my due respects.”
“Bah! I have spent a lifetime tending to the infirm. The number of ailing souls these eyes have seen surpasses the living faces you have met.”
The old man strode in without hesitation, a gift box swinging from his grasp. A fragrance of lychee and dragon’s eye fruits drifted into the air.
Chen Yan smirked. At least the elder knew his manners—he had not come empty-handed.
“You, lad, lack decorum! I am an elder and your friend, yet upon your return, you failed to visit and offer your New Year’s respects. Instead, here I stand, an old man, having to come to you.”
Settling into the cushioned seat of the hall, Lin Qing Quan cast a stern glance at Chen Yan. “Come here! Since I am already here, I may as well take a look at your condition.”
“Ah? Oh! Of course!” Chen Yan grinned and stepped forward, offering a few words of contrition. “It was remiss of me. I only just returned two days past, my hands full of matters. Then, this affliction fell upon me. You are right, I should have paid my respects first.”
Lin Qing Quan huffed. “Hand.”
Chen Yan took a deep breath and settled onto the couch, extending his arm.
The old man placed two fingers upon his wrist, his expression unreadable. Then he bade Chen Yan open his mouth and examined his eyes.
“Hopeless.”
“What?!”
“I mean there’s no need for a cure. It’s just a cold. Rest, and it shall pass. If discomfort hounds you, summon a courier and fetch some medicine.”
Chen Yan stared at him, dumbfounded. “You truly call this medical expertise?”
Lin Qing Quan’s voice was matter-of-fact. “Minor ailments need no treatment. Grave illnesses? Those, I cannot cure.”
Chen Yan’s brow twitched. “Your healer’s license from the Western Lands—did you purchase it?”
The old man spread his hands. “It is the nature of things. An ailment neither great nor small holds the only merit in being treated.”
Yet he did not jest for long. He smiled. “If you shun the ways of the Westerners, I shall pen a formula of herbs. It will not banish the affliction, but it shall ease your suffering.”
“Truly?”
Lin Qing Quan feigned indignation. “Have I ever deceived you? Did the last prescription I gave you not work?”
Chen Yan considered this. Indeed, the old man’s prescriptions bore efficacy. His credentials, though peculiar, were genuine.
The last time he had suffered from an ailment, it had been no fault of the old man’s remedy but rather the strength of the aged medicine given to him by Chu Ke Qing. Yet, once he had taken it, the excess of his vital energies had indeed subsided.
“Wait here. There is another patient in the house—I shall fetch her.”
With that, Chen Yan ascended the staircase and rapped upon the door. After a brief exchange, Gu Qing Yi emerged, descending to the hall.
She, too, was bundled in a quilt, her feet clad in plush slippers, a cooling talisman affixed to her brow—one meant for children, adorned with the pups of the Paw Patrol.
Lin Qing Quan, beholding this absurd sight, felt an itch in his fingers—a desire to capture this moment forever. The proud daughter of the Gu Family, the Demoness of the Hell-Suppressing Platform, a prodigy who had breached the Celestial Realm before twenty—
Were he to return to the Domain Realm with an image of her in this state, he could fetch a handsome sum.
Of course…
It was also likely that Gu Qing Yi would hunt him to the ends of the world in retribution.
Gu Qing Yi cast a discerning gaze upon Lin Qing Quan. The old man, swift as ever, conjured a benevolent smile upon his face.
“Are you a healer?” Gu Qing Yi carried herself with a natural grace, her voice light as the drifting autumn wind. As she approached, she asked the question with a touch of courtesy before settling onto the wooden stool. With a practiced motion, she rolled up her sleeve, revealing an arm as pale as the first snow upon the mountain peaks. “I trouble you for your expertise.”
Facing Gu Qing Yi, Lin Qing Quan seemed to shed his usual levity, his demeanor sharpening like a blade unsheathed. He placed two fingers upon her wrist, his focus unwavering as he listened to the rhythm of her pulse. Then, with a measured glance, he examined her tongue and eyelids before finally offering his diagnosis with the gentle weight of a drifting leaf.
“Nothing of great concern,” he murmured. “The cold season lingers, and it seems you have been reckless, letting the wind steal into your body. A mere affliction of the elements—a chill invading your meridians. Take two doses of medicine, rest for a few days, and you shall be well.”
Gu Qing Yi nodded, her voice soft, carrying the crispness of winter frost. “Thank you, healer.”
Lin Qing Quan responded with a warm smile. “No need for formality. I shall write a prescription for you.”
Chen Yan, who had been lounging nearby, interjected with a lazy smile. “Shall I take the same medicine as her?”
Lin Qing Quan cast him a sidelong glance, the corner of his lips curving ever so slightly. “There’s no need. What ails you is but a fleeting shadow of her condition. A mere cold remedy will suffice. Are you, a man of the Jianghu, truly so delicate?”
“…”
Finding no paper nor brush upon the table, the elder physician seized the moment, pulling out his device of modern sorcery. With a faint smile, he turned to Gu Qing Yi. “Add me on WeChat. I shall send the prescription through the winds of the digital realm.”
Chen Yan raised a brow. “Why not send it to me instead?”
Lin Qing Quan scoffed, eyes narrowing like an elder reprimanding an impudent disciple. “What do you understand? This medicine is tailored for a lady. There are matters of her constitution that require discretion. How could I entrust such things to a man?”
With that, he waved a dismissive hand. “Stand aside. I have words to impart to the young lady alone.”
Though suspicion flickered within Chen Yan’s heart, he did not press the matter. Rising from his seat, he stepped away from the chamber, his retreat marked by the elder’s warning:
“No eavesdropping!”
Chen Yan snorted from afar. “Am I such a petty man?”
Only after his departure did Lin Qing Quan settle himself properly. He studied Gu Qing Yi for a brief moment, then spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.
“Your condition is akin to his, yet you are more weakened these past few days. Judging by your pulse, I would wager that this happens to coincide with your monthly cycle, does it not?”
Gu Qing Yi remained calm, her gaze lowering as she gave a barely audible “Mm.”
Yet the air in the room seemed to chill ever so slightly.
Lin Qing Quan shivered. With a deep breath, he pressed on.
“For that reason, I have included additional ingredients in your prescription—herbs to replenish your blood and nourish your yin essence. This mixture is meant solely for you. The boy has no need of it, understood?”
Gu Qing Yi gave a composed nod. “I appreciate the trouble.” She retrieved her phone from her pocket, poised to receive the message.
Lin Qing Quan, satisfied, unlocked his own device—only for the screen to betray him.
A short-video app flickered to life, displaying a young woman of exaggerated beauty, her figure enhanced by sorcery, swaying rhythmically before the lens.
“Wipe the glass~~ Wipe~ Wipe the glass~~”
“…”
“…”
For a long moment, silence reigned.
With a slow, deliberate motion, Lin Qing Quan closed the app, his expression unfaltering. “My granddaughter was playing with my phone earlier,” he explained, voice unhurried.
“Mm.”
Gu Qing Yi pocketed her phone and rose to her feet. “I shall fetch paper and ink for you instead.”
She strode into the kitchen, where she found Chen Yan, arms crossed. A frown flickered across her delicate brows.
“This healer you found—he is somewhat improper. Handle him yourself. I am going upstairs. And I will not be taking his medicine.”
Chen Yan sighed. “At least let him finish diagnosing you—”
Gu Qing Yi took a slow breath, as though reigning in an unseen fury. “I fear I may strike him if I linger.”
With that, she turned and ascended the stairs, her departure as swift and decisive as a swordsman withdrawing from a duel.
Chen Yan watched her go, shaking his head. With a resigned sigh, he picked up a cup of tea and returned to the sitting room.
“She’s feeling unwell,” he remarked to Lin Qing Quan. “She has retired to her quarters. Give me the prescription instead. I shall be the one to procure the medicine.”
Lin Qing Quan smirked but said nothing, sending the prescription to Chen Yan instead. Then, lifting his cup, he took a sip of tea.
“This brew is rather decent,” he mused. “It has character.”
“A gift from a friend,” Chen Yan answered absentmindedly.
The old man let his gaze roam the room, amusement glinting in his eyes. “I have known you for some time, yet your affairs remain a mystery. A youth like you, living in such a grand abode—you are no common merchant, are you?”
Chen Yan shook his head. “I am no master of commerce. I owe my current comforts to the kindness of my elders.”
Lin Qing Quan chuckled knowingly. “Even so, surely you have ambitions of your own?”
“I graduated but a year past,” Chen Yan admitted. “I have yet to decide upon a path. The world is vast, and work scarce.”
The old physician snorted. “Ah, so you have embraced the way of idleness, like so many of your generation?”
Chen Yan smirked. “Is idleness not a form of freedom?”
Lin Qing Quan eyed him with mild disdain. “And those who preach such things? The so-called wise men of the digital realm who advocate sloth? They toil endlessly, feeding upon the attention of their followers. They strive harder than anyone.”
Chen Yan merely shrugged. “I am aware of their deception. But even so, I remain undecided about my own course.”
The old healer chuckled. “Then take an easy post. You have wealth. You do not need to struggle. Find a light occupation, gain experience, and earn a little silver for your whims. After all, you lack for nothing—save for gold untainted by magic.”
Chen Yan’s eyes lit up.
Spending money was easy.
But earning coin—without relying on magic?
Now that… that was a challenge worthy of pursuit.
The greatest dilemma lay in this: any wealth earned through spells belonged to the Sect, and not a single coin could be spent outside its walls—not even on one’s closest kin.
If he and Lu Si Si truly ended up together, he couldn’t possibly rely on her wealth, could he? Nor could he make a habit of falling ill alongside her every now and then just to scrape by!
No, he needed another means—one that did not require spiritual power. Not much was necessary, just a few thousand silver taels a month—enough for the expenses of romance.
Otherwise, should he ever wish to gift his beloved a dress or a spirit-infused communication talisman, he would first need to make an appointment with the Dao: “Dao Brother, next month I plan to fall sick with my lover again, alright?”—utterly absurd.
Finding an easy, effortless occupation was difficult.
But if he didn’t set his sights too high, securing a job of that nature wouldn’t be so challenging.
Moreover… there was still that flaw he had previously discovered in the great cycle of the Heavenly Dao.
So long as he placed another intermediary layer between them, the Dao would not count it as a direct transaction.
After sitting in quiet contemplation for a while, Lin Qing Quan rose and bid farewell. Chen Yan called out with a laugh, “Wait a moment!”
He dashed into the kitchen, retrieving two frozen spirit-fed chickens from the ice chest before returning with a beaming smile. Handing them to Old Deng Lin, he said, “A small token, a countryside specialty. These are free-range chickens that have never touched a grain of feed. Take them home and make a nourishing broth.”
Old Deng Lin accepted them with a smile, then casually bent down and picked up a gift box of lychees he had brought along. He turned to leave.
“Eh?”
Chen Yan was dumbfounded. “Wait, this…”
Old Deng Lin followed his gaze to the gift box in his hands and chuckled. “Oh, this? I just bought it on my way over to gift someone else. Since I happened to pass by, I thought I’d drop in and see you.”
Chen Yan’s mind reeled.
He suddenly recalled Gu Qing Yi’s words—every single one of them was spot on.
Spending too much time around this old man truly made one want to throw a punch.
How he wished to snatch back those chickens!
Carrying both the lychee gift box and the frozen chickens, Lin Qing Quan strolled leisurely back to his own residence.
[Boy, I’ve delivered the message. You should be able to grasp its meaning.]
As for the young lady from the Gu family—
[She wants to beat me? Hmph, in this world, we both stand at the Platform Ascension Stage! If we really fought, who knows who would end up on the ground?]
Returning home, Lin Qing Quan casually placed the chickens in the kitchen before heading into his study.
He poured clear water into a bronze basin, formed a hand seal, and with a flick of his fingers—
A golden light flashed, and a calligraphy brush rose from the table, dipped into the water, and swiftly inscribed a message upon the surface.
“The entrusted task is complete! The promised reward must be honored!”
Moments later, the words faded, and gentle ripples spread across the water’s surface. Slowly, a new line of characters emerged—
“Many thanks, Dao Brother. My grandson is unruly—truly, I’ve troubled you!”
Lin Qing Quan snorted and poured more spiritual power into the brush. It hovered over the water once more, leaving behind a curt reply—
“No need for thanks. Add more money.”
Then, silence.
A long silence.
A very, very long silence…
So long that Old Deng Lin’s legs went numb from standing, yet the water remained still. The one on the other side had vanished without another word.
“Venerable Huang, you and your grandson are truly alike—scoundrels, both of you!”
The old man rolled his eyes skyward.
That evening, before turning in for the night, Chen Yan carried a cup of warm red sugar water to Gu Qing Yi’s door.
Wordlessly, he handed it over. Then, reaching behind him, he pulled out a package of specialized feminine supplies and placed them in her hands before swiftly turning on his heel and retreating up the stairs to his own room.
Running was necessary.
When Little Madam Gu was embarrassed, she would fly into a rage.
…Alright, fine. In truth, Chen the Great Philanthropist had overheard what Old Deng Lin had said to Gu Qing Yi earlier that day.
Inside the room, Gu Qing Yi stood still. One hand held the cup of red sugar water, the other clutched the package tightly.
A blush crept across her face.
[Eight thousand—this is no small sum… How many people still remember that, back when I first began, I promised a minimum of six thousand per day? At this rate, I’ll never stockpile drafts… How vexing!]
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation