Chapter 81: The Venerable One Does Not Cross the Boundary
“Fellow Daoist, why do you seek information on Chen Jue?”
Old Madam He’s gaze was sharp, her voice edged with wariness.
Chen Yan spread his hands. “Merely curiosity. I’ve heard his name carries infamy, yet no one speaks of the celestial law he has transgressed.”
Old Madam He shook her head, her tone resolute, the warmth in her voice turning to ice. “That is not someone you should concern yourself with.”
She knows.
A flicker of thought crossed Chen Yan’s mind, but before he could press further, Old Madam He waved him off. “Enough! Our exchange is complete. This old woman shall not linger here admiring the night with you. Farewell.”
With that, the cunning old fox turned, stepping behind a tree trunk—only to vanish into the shadows.
Chen Yan frowned as he watched her disappear. He stood in silent contemplation for a moment before sighing.
Then, turning to the thickets beyond, he called out, “You can come out now.”
The leaves rustled as Chu Ke Qing emerged, slightly hunched, still gripping her phone tightly. She hurried toward Chen Yan.
“Did you record everything?” he asked.
Chu Ke Qing’s face was pale, a nervous tremor in her voice. “I— I did.”
Her gaze flickered around warily before she whispered, “That Old Madam He—is she a demon? A fox spirit dwelling in the mountains?”
Though she had managed to capture the exchange on video, she had been too far away to hear their words.
After a moment’s hesitation, she fixed her eyes on Chen Yan. “Senior… Old Madam He is alive. You knew this all along, didn’t you?”
Chen Yan waved her off, refusing to answer. “Let’s head back. Our work here is done. If all goes well, we’ll be able to leave by morning.”
“But—what about Boss He? How do we explain this to him?” Chu Ke Qing grimaced. “Tell him the truth—that Old Madam He isn’t dead, that she’s actually a fox demon from the mountains? He’ll never believe us! Worse, he may fly into a rage.”
Chen Yan glanced at her phone. “Just send me the footage once you return to your room. Leave the rest to me.”
Descending the mountain, he invoked the Escape Formula, guiding Chu Ke Qing back to the He Family Mansion. They vaulted the wall and landed in the rear courtyard, arriving at their guest quarters. Throughout the journey, Chu Ke Qing’s face bore a complex expression, as though words weighed heavily on her tongue. But sensing Chen Yan’s reluctance to discuss the matter, she dared not question further. He was, after all, the “ninety-one-year-old monster”—a figure she would not dare to displease.
Suppressing her unease, she silently retreated to her room.
Once alone, Chen Yan sat cross-legged on his bed, deep in thought. Then, picking up his phone, he opened WeChat. Chu Ke Qing had already sent him the footage. He watched it through before dialing a number.
The call connected quickly—but there was silence on the other end. Only the sound of someone crunching on food filled the line.
Chen Yan spoke gravely. “Gu Qing Yi, I need to ask you something.”
“Speak,” she replied tersely.
“What is a Realm Overseer?”
Silence stretched over the call. The crunching stopped. After a pause, Gu Qing Yi’s voice came, slow and measured. “How do you know about that?”
“That’s not important. Just tell me.”
Another pause.
“Before, you refused to speak of the Domain Realm,” Chen Yan pressed. “But now that I’ve learned of the Realm Overseer, there’s no point in hiding it any longer.”
Gu Qing Yi sighed. “There isn’t much to say. Long ago, powerful figures from the Domain Realm discovered the Boundary Between Worlds. A group of mighty cultivators gathered their strength and formed an array, piercing a passage through the barrier.
“But once the passage opened, they realized that this side of the boundary was barren—its essence weak and unsuitable for cultivation. In the end, the Domain Realm found no value in it.
“Moreover, the passage had been created using the power of the Domain Realm’s Heavenly Dao. If our cultivators crossed over and wreaked havoc, slaughtering mortals, it would violate your world’s Heavenly Dao.”
“And what happens then?” Chen Yan asked.
“Violation incurs retribution.”
Gu Qing Yi exhaled slowly. “The transgressors come from the Domain Realm. The passage exists because of our Heavenly Dao. If people from our side cause bloodshed, then your world’s Heavenly Dao demands compensation from ours.
“This is an inviolable rule. The Heavenly Dao is impartial. If the Domain Realm’s Heavenly Dao incurs a debt, it must repay it—with fortune, with destiny.”
Chen Yan was momentarily bewildered by the concept, but then an analogy dawned on him.
It was like… a brat sneaking into his house and smashing his belongings. Naturally, he would demand compensation from the brat’s parents.
The child was their responsibility. They had to pay the price.
“So, if people from the Domain Realm cause mayhem in our world, our Heavenly Dao holds yours accountable? And your Heavenly Dao must compensate by sacrificing its own fate and fortune?”
“Exactly. That’s why the great cultivators of the Domain Realm established a rule: they would dispatch Realm Overseers to this world, dwelling here long-term, traveling far and wide.
“If someone from the Domain Realm sneaks through the boundary, they might be tolerated—so long as they remain inconspicuous.
“But if they dare to stir chaos—then they are to be eliminated.”
Chen Yan absorbed this in silence. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, “Is my Old Madam a Realm Overseer?”
“No.”
Gu Qing Yi’s response was immediate, firm. “The Venerable One holds a unique status. Moreover… a Venerable One would never serve as a Realm Overseer.”
Chen Yan smirked. “I see. The rank is too high. They wouldn’t assign someone of that level to such menial duties. Is that it?”
“No,” Gu Qing Yi replied. “That is not the reason.”
?The Iron Law of the Boundary?
Gu Qing Yi shook her head again. “Because… the Exalted Ones do not cross the Boundary—this is the law of the Domain Realm.”
“The Exalted Ones do not cross the Boundary?”
Chen Yan frowned. “Then how did my old grandmother come here? And how has she managed to stay in this world for so many years?”
Gu Qing Yi’s voice carried a strange weight, as though treading on dangerous ground. “Chen Yan, it would be best if you did not ask too much. Matters concerning the Exalted Ones are not to be spoken of lightly.”
“Fine, fine.” Chen Yan exhaled. “Then let’s not talk about my grandmother. But at least explain this rule—why is it that ‘Exalted Ones do not cross the Boundary’?”
Gu Qing Yi’s tone grew solemn. “The Heavenly Dao differs between realms, and so do their fundamental laws—you are already aware of this.
“When cultivators from the Domain Realm enter your world, their cultivation is suppressed. Those at the Celestial Realm will find their rank diminished. The higher one’s cultivation, the more severe the suppression!
“I am at the Celestial Realm, yet upon stepping into your world, I fell an entire level—to the Ascension Stage.
“Beyond the Celestial Realm, there is the Golden Body Realm, then the Primordial Spirit Realm, and only then—the Exalted Realm.
“If I, just a Celestial, have been cast down so severely, consider the plight of an Exalted One, who surpasses me by three entire realms! Should one step into your world, the Heavenly Dao’s backlash would be overwhelming. The greater one’s power, the harsher the suppression. Transcendents already push the limits of what can exist here.
“But for a Saintly Existence—should one descend into this world, their cultivation and Dao will be suppressed to the point of near mortality. The energy they can muster would be as frail as a flickering candle, and even the simplest of arcane arts would be beyond reach.”
Chen Yan’s heart pounded.
Gu Qing Yi continued, her words as sharp as a blade carving through fate itself. “To step beyond the Exalted Realm is to enter the Saintly Domain. Those who attain Saintly Ascendance become immortal, imperishable beings. Their very existence is entwined with the Heavenly Dao, their Primordial Spirits dwelling within its vast will.
“In the Domain Realm, a Saintly Being is nearly unkillable. Destroying one is a task akin to severing the heavens themselves.
“But if such a being were to step into your world, stripped of all their cultivation, reduced to nothing more than mortal flesh… should ill intent arise, their demise would be as effortless as crushing a mere insect.
“The Saintly Ones are the pillars that uphold the Domain Realm, the very foundation of its order. Losing even one would be an unbearable calamity.
“Thus, the Iron Law stands firm: Exalted Ones do not cross the Boundary!”
Chen Yan’s mind spun. A thousand thoughts churned like storm-tossed waves.
If Exalted Ones truly could not cross, for fear of becoming powerless mortals…
Then why had his grandmother come?
She had stayed in this world for decades.
Either—she had an unimaginable, pressing reason, one that forced her to risk everything to step into this realm.
Or… she was forced to come.
A punishment? An exile?
Chen Yan fell deep into contemplation.
Yet this revelation explained much.
Why had his grandmother recognized the Old Fox but refrained from acting against the beast haunting the mountains?
Because here—she could not wield her cultivation.
Acting as a mere Oracle Shaman, practicing divinations and fortune-telling—that was likely the limit of what she could do. Anything more would be beyond her reach.
From the other end of the line, Gu Qing Yi’s voice turned grave. “Chen Yan, let me warn you—if you have no intention of stepping into the Domain Realm, then cease your inquiries. The Heavenly Dao watches over all things. The deeper you delve, the greater the karmic threads entwining you. And not all fates are kind.”
“…Understood.” Chen Yan shook his head, brushing aside his thoughts. “Enough about that. It’s late—why aren’t you sleeping? I hear something on your side… are you eating?”
Gu Qing Yi: “…”
Inside a lavish villa, Gu Qing Yi sat cross-legged on the sofa, surrounded by an assortment of mortal delicacies strewn across the table.
Half a tin of seaweed crisps had already met its fate, while open bags of potato chips, sunflower seeds, peanuts, and chocolates bore the marks of an ongoing battle.
Several empty milk tea cups lay discarded beside her.
Little Madam Gu’s cheeks flushed. “Mind your own business!”
Without waiting for a response, she ended the call, tossing her phone aside.
Grabbing the remote, she unmuted the television.
On the massive 100-inch screen, an elderly man from the Eastern Three Prefectures smirked mischievously. “One monkey in the tree, one monkey on the ground—how many monkeys in total?”
Beside him, a burly, simple-minded middle-aged man stared, utterly dumbfounded.
Little Madam Gu burst into laughter, stuffing another handful of chips into her mouth, her cheeks puffed like a hamster’s.
[Ah, this world is rather delightful after all.]
All these years, the only Spring Festival Gala she had seen was the one her Third Uncle had brought back—something from the 90s.
But now? Now she could watch them all!
Year by year, she’d catch up, one after another!
What a marvelous treasure trove she had stumbled upon!
It was just a pity that Old Madam Zhao was no longer around… but this Old Man Zhao was equally amusing!
Meanwhile—
Chen Yan glanced at his phone, shook his head, and tucked it away.
He busied himself packing, folding his garments and belongings into a simple bundle. Then, seating himself upon the bed, he began his nightly Qi Circulation Training.
His Vital Energy coursed through his meridians once—
Then a second time—
But before he could continue, his ears twitched.
From beyond the courtyard walls—urgent footsteps echoed.
Moments later, a sharp knock struck against his door, followed by the tense voice of Boss He.
“Mister Chen! Mister Chen!!”
Chen Yan sprang to his feet, crossing the room in swift strides. When he pulled open the door, he was met by the sight of Boss He, clad in nothing but a night robe, his face lined with anxious excitement.
Behind him, Madam He stood hesitantly, clutching a coat, clearly trying to drape it over her husband’s shoulders.
“No need for that!” Boss He brushed her off impatiently.
“But the night is cold…” Madam He muttered, though her gentle nature kept her from arguing further. She merely stood aside, her hands still gripping the coat.
Chen Yan smiled. “Boss He, what brings you here at such an hour?”
He Jian Bo’s breath came in ragged bursts. He had hurried all the way here, but now that he stood before Chen Yan’s door, staring at the man himself, his throat constricted as if choked by an unseen force. Words eluded him.
This tycoon, a man nearing his fifth decade, suddenly found his eyes reddening, his broad shoulders trembling with barely contained emotion. “I… I…”
Chen Yan sighed. He had already surmised the nature of this visit. With a slight shift of his body, he opened the door wider. “Boss He, the night is cold. Let’s talk inside.”
He Jian Bo nodded vigorously but then turned to his wife. “You go back. Don’t follow me. There’s something important I need to discuss with Mister Chen.”
Madam He hesitated, puzzled, but nodded nonetheless. “Take your coat, at least. You’ll catch a chill.” She pressed the garment into his hands before departing.
Chen Yan cast a glance at her retreating figure, noting her thin nightgown, then sighed. “Boss He, you’ve married a good woman. It’s the dead of night, yet she followed you out without a second thought. She cares for you more than herself.”
He Jian Bo’s face flickered with emotion. He clenched the coat in his hands before stepping into the room.
Inside, he sat stiffly in a chair, his lips moving but unable to form words. Hesitation clouded his face.
Chen Yan chuckled softly, taking a seat opposite him. “Boss He, did Old Madam He send you a dream?”
At those words, He Jian Bo shot to his feet, his face drained of color. “You… you know?! Then… then it wasn’t just a dream?!”
Chen Yan waved a hand and pressed He Jian Bo back down into his chair.
This time, the man’s eyes were bloodshot, his facial muscles quivering. After a long silence, he finally raised his head. “Just now, I had a dream. My mother came to me and spoke of many things…”
Chen Yan nodded. “Mm.”
“I woke up drenched in sweat, thinking it was nothing more than my longing for her conjuring an illusion. But the more I pondered, the more uneasy I became. Everything in the dream felt too real. And what she told me… was simply too terrifying… I…”
Chen Yan understood his turmoil. The old fox must have revealed the truth to him in the dream. But upon waking, doubt gnawed at him, leaving him unable to confide in anyone.
Smiling faintly, Chen Yan asked, “Old Madam He urged you to seek me out, didn’t she?”
He Jian Bo’s eyes widened in horror.
Chen Yan said nothing, merely met his gaze with quiet confidence.
After a long moment, He Jian Bo ran his fingers through his hair, his voice hoarse. “Mister Chen… my mother… she… she really wasn’t human, was she?”
Chen Yan sighed, nodding silently.
Tears rolled down He Jian Bo’s cheeks. “If she was still alive, why did she fake her death and leave me? If she was alive, why couldn’t I see her just once more?”
Chen Yan shook his head. “Old Madam He had her reasons. Think of it this way—humans and spirits cannot coexist for long. She is not of this world, and she stayed here longer than she should have. It was time for her to leave.”
Saying this, Chen Yan retrieved his phone, pulled up a video, and handed it to He Jian Bo.
The video had been secretly recorded by Chu Ke Qing from a distance. The audio was too faint to capture their conversation, and the angle only showed Chen Yan’s back while the old fox’s lips moved in subtle murmurs. Even lip-reading would be impossible.
But the visuals were clear enough. Old Madam He, standing under the trees, her face morphing from human to fox and back again before vanishing completely.
Handing over the phone, Chen Yan spoke calmly, “Take your time. When you’re done, call for me.”
With that, he turned and strode out into the courtyard.
A stone bench stood in the yard. He sat down, fingers fumbling for a cigarette pack. He didn’t particularly enjoy smoking, but tonight, his heart was heavy. He lit a cigarette but didn’t inhale, simply letting it smolder between his fingers.
A soft voice spoke behind him. “You’re not sleeping either?”
Chu Ke Qing had approached, standing quietly by his side. “Senior, is something troubling you?”
Chen Yan remained silent. Chu Ke Qing, ever perceptive, placed a cup of steaming tea on the stone table before him. “This tea is from my family’s plantation. I harvested and roasted the leaves myself. Please, have a taste.”
Chen Yan glanced at the tea, picked it up, and took a sip.
Fragrant.
But beyond that, he could discern little. Young people these days rarely appreciated tea, let alone understood its subtleties.
Still, he nodded. “You’re thoughtful.”
Chu Ke Qing lowered her voice. “I won’t disturb your thoughts. If you need anything, call for me.”
With that, she turned and walked back to her room, deliberately leaving the door ajar.
This woman… her mind was meticulous.
Chen Yan sighed inwardly before tilting his head skyward, gazing at the moon.
[Old Madam He… why did you come to this world in the first place?]
[You risked so much, an exalted one reduced to a mere mortal, dwelling in this world for so long…]
Could it be…
Just for Me, Isn’t It?
He Jian Bo remained in the chamber for half an hour before emerging. When he did, his eyes were red, swollen with grief—a silent testament to the bitter storm of sorrow that had passed.
Before Chen Yan, the tea had cooled, half-consumed. He Jian Bo stepped forward, his demeanor subtly laced with reverence, his voice hushed. “Mister Chen, my thoughts are too scattered, my heart too unsettled. Tonight, I won’t trouble you with further discussion. Tomorrow, at dawn, we shall speak again. It is late—please, rest early.”
With a nod, this tycoon of wealth and power turned and vanished into the depths of the rear courtyard.
—
At daybreak, Chen Yan rose, completed his morning routine, and stepped out of his quarters, dragging his luggage behind him. In the courtyard, Chu Ke Qing awaited, standing poised like a sculpture of jade, her grace as tranquil as still water.
True to her words, she honored the disciple’s rites. From the earliest morning, she stood at the threshold, awaiting her senior’s emergence. At the sight of Chen Yan, she advanced swiftly, extending her hands to receive his luggage without hesitation.
The two departed the rear courtyard and entered the front dining hall, where He Jian Bo was already waiting.
The table was laden with a lavish breakfast. Yet, he was alone—his wife absent, his assistants dismissed, even the household servants ordered away. The air in the chamber was thick with an unspoken solemnity.
The moment Chen Yan and Chu Ke Qing stepped in, He Jian Bo rose, stepping forward to greet him with a slight bow. His tone carried weight, both formal and deferential. “Mister Chen.”
Chen Yan observed him briefly. Dark circles rimmed He Jian Bo’s eyes; it was clear he had not slept the night before.
As they took their seats, He Jian Bo positioned himself beside Chen Yan. “I was uncertain of your preferences, so I had the kitchen prepare a variety of dishes, both northern and southern flavors.”
Chen Yan’s gaze swept across the table—indeed, the selection was vast, catering to every palate. With a slight nod, he acknowledged, “You’ve been thoughtful, Chairman He.”
Chu Ke Qing, ever attentive, swiftly lifted a set of utensils and placed them carefully before Chen Yan. “Senior,” she murmured, “shall I serve you a bowl of congee first?”
“Senior?” He Jian Bo’s brows lifted in surprise as he turned to regard her.
Chu Ke Qing merely smiled, ladling warm congee into a porcelain bowl, her voice tinged with quiet apology. “Chairman He, I hope you will not take offense at my earlier discretion. Mister Chen is no ordinary man—he is a master, a true adept. His youthful appearance is but a guise, a mere mask he dons to traverse the mundane world.
I did not reveal this before, not out of deceit, but because such matters are too fantastical for easy belief.”
As she finished, she placed the congee before Chen Yan with careful hands.
He Jian Bo, eyes wide, turned his gaze to the seemingly young man beside him.
Chen Yan…
What else could he do now? The act had been played; he could only continue the performance.
“This… this is no less than the legendary arts of the immortals!” He Jian Bo drew in a sharp breath, awe flickering in his expression.
Chen Yan, unhurried, picked up his chopsticks and stirred the congee before him. Beside him, Chu Ke Qing continued her silent attentiveness, peeling a salted duck egg and placing it by his side.
“Chairman He,” Chen Yan spoke slowly, “after last night, I believe many things must now be clear to you. Your heart has begun to accept them, has it not?”
He Jian Bo nodded solemnly. “Yes… though astonishing, I have come to terms with the truth.” His expression turned grave as he bowed his head slightly. “Mister Chen, I am deeply grateful. Were it not for your presence, I might never have learned my mother’s fate.”
Chen Yan shook his head. “I claim no great merit. When your family tomb was opened and the coffin found empty, you were bound to search for answers. Old Madam He knew this, too.
Had I not come, she would have reached out in your dreams sooner or later, revealing the truth to spare you further distress.
Thus, my role was minor at best.”
“No.” He Jian Bo’s voice firmed with conviction. “My mother appeared to me in a dream last night. She said clearly—without the presence of a figure such as you, she would never have manifested again. She instructed me to show you the utmost respect and reverence.
I had mistaken you for a mere youth. I was careless in my courtesy. Please, Mister Chen, do not take offense! Now I understand that you are a true master—no, a senior of great renown!
But this art of transformation… it is beyond belief! Were it not for my mother’s words, I would have thought you the same age as my son.”
After a moment’s pause, He Jian Bo hesitated before asking, “Senior, may I be so bold as to inquire… your true age?”
Chen Yan remained silent, but Chu Ke Qing answered for him, her tone unhurried. “Senior is already ninety-one years old.”
Shock rippled across He Jian Bo’s face.
A man of his intelligence, one who had built vast wealth, was no fool. Instantly, his mind whirred, a glint of desire flickering in his eyes. “Cultivation… can it truly restore youth?” he asked, voice carrying an unmistakable trace of yearning.
Chen Yan immediately discerned the ambition in his heart.
From emperors to commoners, who did not long for longevity?
With a slight shake of his head, he cut off He Jian Bo’s hopes. “There is no need to ask further, Chairman He. You lack the talent—it is beyond your reach.
Had you been born with such a gift, your mother would have guided you onto the path long ago.”
He Jian Bo stilled, contemplation crossing his face before a hint of regret surfaced. “I was presumptuous,” he admitted with a sigh. Then, as though recalling something, his demeanor softened. “My mother instructed me to remain close to you.”
He reached into his pocket and produced a card, placing it before Chen Yan. “I have yet to obtain your contact information. This is my personal card. Few outside my circle possess it. The number here is my direct line, always on me—not one held by my assistants.
Mister Chen, should you ever require anything, any matter where I, He Jian Bo, can be of service, do not hesitate to reach out.”
And so it was that, in the span of a single night, the distinguished tycoon He Jian Bo had transformed into… ‘Little He.’
Chen Yan sighed inwardly.
It seemed the fate awaiting He Jian Bo was not so different from that of Boss Ma, who had been reduced to the ‘Little Ma of West Lake’ at the hands of Old Madam He.
Perhaps that day was not so far off.
Chen Yan slipped the private calling card into his pocket just as He Jian Bo picked up his phone, fingers swiftly tapping out a few messages. Moments later, the fragrant aroma of congee lingered in the air as Chen Yan finished the last spoonful. Beside him, Chu Ke Qing had meticulously peeled salted duck eggs, her fingers moving deftly as she separated yolk from white. She had noticed that he favored the rich, golden centers and disdained the bland whites—so she scooped out the yolks with a small spoon and carefully stacked them on a delicate dish, pushing it toward him without a word.
Only after ensuring his meal was complete did the woman pick up her own chopsticks to eat. Chen Yan observed in silence, the corners of his lips still. Yet in his heart, he understood—the night before, when he had led her into the mountain depths, when he had displayed his mystical arts and conversed with a fox demon as though they were old friends—it had shaken her profoundly. Now, her demeanor was even more reverent, her every gesture carrying a subtle deference.
As Chen Yan set his chopsticks down, He Jian Bo finally shifted his gaze toward Chu Ke Qing and spoke. “Teacher Chu.”
“Hm? Chief He, what is it?” she asked, raising her head.
“The payment we agreed upon has already been transferred to your account. You may check it.” He Jian Bo’s voice was calm, yet steady with intent. “Additionally, there’s a separate sum meant for Senior Chen. I do not have his account details, and since you are his junior, I thought it best to send it to you. Please ensure he receives it.”
Chu Ke Qing’s brows arched slightly. She pulled out her phone and glanced at the notification—sure enough, the bank’s message confirmed the transaction. Her fingertips lingered over the screen as she placed it before Chen Yan, allowing him to see for himself.
On the screen, two messages stood out. The first bore the exact amount He Jian Bo had mentioned earlier. But the second—this was a separate transfer, an impressive figure of 8.88 million.
Chen Yan’s pulse quickened for just a breath, though his expression remained as still as deep water.
A true master cultivator must always maintain composure.
He barely spared the numbers a second glance before looking up, his gaze falling on He Jian Bo. With a slight nod, he smiled. “Chief He, you are too kind.”
He Jian Bo was indeed a man of vision. A true magnate moved with grand gestures, setting the stage for greater connections.
Chen Yan knew well that the task he had undertaken here did not, by any measure, warrant such an extravagant reward. No, this was no simple transaction—this was an investment. A worldly tycoon encountering a master of mystical arts—how could he not seek to forge ties? To hold such a figure within his circle, should the need arise in days to come.
Moreover, Old Madam He had reached out to him from beyond the veil, entrusting him with a favor yet to be repaid. Since there was already an unspoken bond, there was no reason to decline the wealth offered.
As the morning meal concluded, Chu Ke Qing’s assistant had already arrived with the car, waiting at the entrance of He Manor.
Bidding farewell, Chen Yan and Chu Ke Qing departed. He Jian Bo, ever the gracious host, personally escorted them to the village entrance. As he stood by the roadside, watching their vehicle disappear beyond the horizon, every inch of his demeanor exuded respect and gravity.
Within the car, the gentle hum of the road accompanied them. Chu Ke Qing stole a glance at the man resting against the seat and spoke softly, “Senior, if you would provide me with your bank account, I will transfer your payment to you.”
Chen Yan pondered for a moment, then chuckled. “As for the sum Chief He promised before we arrived… you need not transfer it all to me. Just send me half.”
Chu Ke Qing’s face tensed. “That won’t do. Before we embarked on this, I already made it clear that every coin of this belongs to you. I ask for nothing in return, only for the chance to learn by your side.”
Chen Yan shook his head. “Half will suffice. Keep the other half for yourself—you cannot make this journey for nothing. Besides… venturing into the mountains with me in the dead of night should not be without some recompense.”
Venturing into the mountains? In the dead of night?
From the driver’s seat, the female assistant caught those words and, through the rearview mirror, cast a rather peculiar glance at them.
Chu Ke Qing hesitated. “This is inappropriate, I…”
“Enough. Take what you are given.” Chen Yan waved a hand, his tone brooking no argument. “That is final.”
With that, he retrieved his phone, added Chu Ke Qing on WeChat, and sent her his banking details.
Chu Ke Qing lowered her gaze. “For such a large transfer, my phone won’t allow it. I will send it once we return.”
“Mm.” Chen Yan showed no concern, responding indifferently before closing his eyes to rest.
The car had barely left He Village a few minutes before merging onto the main road—still a long way from the highway. Just as Chen Yan was about to drift into brief meditation, his eyes suddenly snapped open. In the next instant, his voice rang with a sharp command.
“Stop the car!”
The female assistant flinched, instinctively asking, “Senior—?”
“Stop. Now.”
The vehicle came to an abrupt halt, pulling onto the roadside.
Chen Yan pushed open the door and stepped out, glancing back at Chu Ke Qing. “Stay in the car. Wait here for me.”
His voice was calm, but his tone allowed no refusal.
Beyond the roadside lay a dense thicket of trees, their emerald leaves rustling in the morning breeze. Without hesitation, Chen Yan strode forward, his steps soundless as he disappeared into the forest depths.
After roughly a hundred paces, he halted.
Eyes narrowing, he let out a soft sigh and spoke, his voice carrying through the trees. “Old Madam He… why have you followed me here?”
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