Chapter 23: Ghost Money Comes Calling

The next morning dawned.

The System Cat stared at Chen Ji in utter shock. His already fair skin had turned a bloodless shade of pale, faint dark circles ringing his eyes, exhaustion weighing down his brows and features. Yet his lips glowed with an unnaturally vivid red, a gloomy aura of Death Qi hanging over him.

He didn’t look like a person. He looked like a malevolent ghost that had just seized a new body.

【Chen Ji? Holy shit, what the hell did you do yesterday?!】

Chen Ji rubbed his face, fatigue so deep he could barely pry his eyes open. He only wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep more. Without a word, he shuffled into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly in the System Cat’s face. Within moments, it started anxiously pawing at the door. 【Chen Ji, don’t use cold water to wash up—you’ll catch a cold!】

【Scan shows you’re in a weakened state. Skip the bath before you pass out in there!】

Chen Ji plunged his face into the basin and scrubbed hard. The icy water shocked him alert. He lifted his head, catching sight of his ghostly reflection in the mirror. One glance was enough; he hiked up the hem of his shirt and clamped it between his teeth. Sure enough, his body crawled with the bruises of the Fire Dragon Waist Entwine.

He tugged down his waistband for a closer look, cold ferocity sharpening his features.

With decisive movements, Chen Ji balled up the clothes into a wad and yanked open the bathroom door. 【Get me some fresh clothes.】

The System Cat whipped around and scampered off to fetch them.

While it was gone, Chen Ji boiled a pot of hot water and wiped down his body with the mildly scalding liquid. By the time the System Cat returned, burdened with the clothes, Chen Ji stepped out amid wisps of steam. It drew in a sharp gasp. The creature that usually chattered nonstop was suddenly speechless.

It had slept right by Chen Ji’s feet the night before, completely unaware of this transformation.

【It’s not a big deal.】 Chen Ji leaned down and scooped up the System Cat. It let out a soft whimper and buried its head in his chest, voice muffled. 【…I regret it.】

It regretted everything. If it had known this mountain was like this, it never would have let Chen Ji return—no matter what. A failed mission meant nothing more than centuries locked in a dark cell. Compared to Chen Ji’s life, that hardly seemed so bad.

【Nothing to regret.】 Chen Ji’s voice stayed even. 【We’ll just solve the problem.】

With his composure restored, he carried the System Cat into the kitchen. He downed a pot of ginseng and red date tea, and color finally crept back into his face. Next, he steamed two trays of frozen egg yolk cheese lava dumplings—the kind that needed forty minutes.

Chen Ji stepped outside. Dawn had barely broken, and a cool mountain breeze swept over him. He took a couple of deep breaths before pushing open the temple gate. By the roadside, he plucked a big handful of wildflowers on the verge of blooming.

Back inside, he prodded one of the dumplings with a chopstick. Nearly done. He set a large pot of shrimp wontons to boil.

He lined up the big soup bowls, adding a packet of soup base and a sprinkle of dried shrimp to each one. Once the wontons were cooked, he ladled them in with the broth. The base dissolved instantly, the shrimp swirling and dancing in the clear liquid until it all became a light, flavorful soup.

Chen Ji carried a bowl of wontons, two dumplings, and the wildflowers to the main hall. He lit three sticks of incense and murmured softly, “Lately, my home has been restless, disturbing my sleep. Grandpa Mountain Lord, your divine powers shift like the wind, your blessings reaching every corner. Please, offer your protection.”

With that, he kowtowed three times with deep reverence and placed the incense in the censer.

Worship complete, Chen Ji returned to the kitchen and told the System Cat to dig in. Then he headed off to deliver food to Chang Xu. As he reached the east courtyard, a brilliant flash caught his eye. He instinctively turned his face away before realizing it was Chang Xu practicing his morning forms.

Chang Xu wielded a Tang saber—one Chen Ji had glimpsed before in passing. Now, watching properly, he understood true mastery. It wasn’t flashy like in the dramas, no twirling blades into flowers or acrobatic catches. The speed wasn’t even that fast. Yet that razor-sharp Tang saber moved like an extension of Chang Xu’s arm: effortless, steady.

Chang Xu spotted him and paused, giving a slight nod. His lips parted and closed several times before he finally managed, “…Morning.”

Chen Ji nearly laughed. Did one word really take that long? He settled naturally onto the covered walkway and beckoned Chang Xu over. “Come on, eat it while it’s hot.”

Mindful of how Chang Xu had polished off three people’s worth yesterday, Chen Ji had brought every last bit. Chang Xu murmured another thanks, sheathed his saber, and walked over slowly.

He moved almost like a cat somehow—those near-silent steps, the occasional furtive glances.

Chen Ji lifted a small dish, plucked a dumpling, and bit in. The crunchy egg yolk fused with molten cheese, blending salty savoriness, milky richness, and the aroma of rice. He polished it off in one go before asking Chang Xu, “Are your wounds better?”

To be fair, Chang Xu’s complexion wasn’t great either. The two of them side by side looked like a pair of hospital escapees waiting to keel over at home.

Chang Xu chewed on half a dumpling, eyes widening slightly in surprise at the question. He swallowed before replying, “Much better. Thanks.”

“No need to thank me.” Chen Ji dipped into his wontons and added casually, “Did you sleep well last night?”

Chang Xu paused, his gaze settling back into that calm, unruffled stillness. “Very well. Thanks.”

Chen Ji looked up. “You don’t have to thank me after every single sentence.”

“…Okay.” Chang Xu nodded again. Chen Ji fell silent, focusing on his breakfast. Seeing that, Chang Xu visibly relaxed his tense frame and lowered his head to eat.

Chen Ji noticed how Chang Xu’s eyes lit up the moment he tasted a wonton. His eating speed doubled; the bowl emptied at a visible pace.

—He really likes them. Better stock up.

A hint of a smile touched Chen Ji’s features. He pointed to the large bowl nearby. “This is all yours too.”

Chang Xu’s mouth opened, but Chen Ji cut in first. “Thanks, got it, I know, no need to thank me—eat up.”

Chang Xu shot him a glance and buried his head even deeper.

Once breakfast was done, Chen Ji started to ask what he wanted for lunch when Chang Xu suddenly said, “I’m leaving.”

“So soon?”

Chang Xu nodded and rose to go. Chen Ji stood as well. “Hey, while you’re at it, help me carry these bowls.”

Chang Xu turned back without a word and pitched in to clear the dishes. His movements were quick but awkward, handling the bowls like fragile treasures, each step careful. They reached the kitchen swiftly. He set them down but lingered, neither moving nor leaving. Chen Ji couldn’t help smiling. “That’s all.”

“Mm.” Chang Xu turned to leave again, but Chen Ji added, “I’ll walk you out.”

Chang Xu halted once more. They walked in silence to the temple gate. As they stepped outside, Chang Xu asked abruptly, “I hear you’re on friendly terms with that yellow weasel halfway up the mountain?”

Chen Ji nodded with a grin. “It’s kinda cute. Pet potential.”

Chang Xu’s eyes remained as flat as ever, but Chen Ji read the puzzlement there—how did Second Master Huang tie into “cute” or “pet”? Then he said, “The mountain’s dangerous.”

“Keep those Yellow Talismans safe.” Chang Xu paused. “Don’t give them away lightly.”

Chen Ji crossed his arms, tone teasing. “If only they actually worked.”

Chang Xu met his eyes. “They do.”

Chen Ji waved him off with a laugh. “Say whatever. I’m not drinking any talisman water. See you—come by for a meal sometime!”

With that, Chen Ji shut the gate firmly. Chang Xu didn’t linger, veering off into the nearby woods and vanishing in a few blinks.

The System Cat chimed in. 【Chen Ji, maybe drink a little talisman water anyway? I analyzed your grandpa’s Yellow Talismans: just yellow grass paper made of rice straw and husks. Burns to plant ash. Don’t humans eat lye zongzi? A couple sips won’t kill you!】

【I know.】 Chen Ji walked back inside, expression unchanged. 【Didn’t Chang Xu spell it out clearly enough?】

【…Huh? You actually believe him?!】

It muttered under its breath. 【I figured you didn’t.】

【Just kidding.】 Chen Ji headed for the sink to wash dishes when a loud banging erupted at the gate. “Master Chen—! Master Chen, you home?! Master Chen—!”

Chen Ji glanced toward the door but didn’t move at first. The System Cat tilted its head. 【Chen Ji, you gonna get that?】

He snapped out of it. For a split second when he’d heard the knock, a flicker of fear had gripped him… Was that a person outside, or something else?

He approached the door and stood inside without speaking. The old wooden gate had cracks wide enough to glimpse the visitor—a normal person, no strange shadows or twisted features.

He opened it. A man in his sixties stood there, face etched with anxiety. Spotting Chen Ji, he startled, then greeted him politely. “Hello, young master. Is Master Chen at home?”

Chen Ji blinked in confusion. “Chen? Which Chen?”

The old man replied, “The Chen from Chen Xiang.”

“That’s me,” Chen Ji said. “I’m the only Chen around here. What can I do for you?”

The old man stood there with his mouth agape. Suddenly, he remembered the earlier mention of someone “young” and convinced himself he hadn’t made a mistake. He promptly pulled a red paper packet from the pouch at his waist. The wrapping wasn’t tight, revealing a thick stack of pink banknotes inside at a glance.

“What do you…”

Chen Ji hadn’t even finished speaking when he saw the old man fling the banknotes through the temple gate. The loosely wrapped packet burst open, and the bills scattered into the air, fluttering like butterflies.

It was a beautiful scene in itself.

—If those bills weren’t hell banknotes.