Chapter 71: Am I the Imperial Seal?

These words were particularly amusing.

Chen Ji tugged at the White Tiger’s ears. Though he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t suppress a snort of laughter—how could they not be?

That single sentence from Guai Guai had revealed far too much.

What did it mean that staying on the mountain, away from Xiangxiang, would have the Mountain Lord cure him? And conversely, that leaving the mountain with Xiangxiang would provoke the Mountain Lord to awaken in rage and kill him?

Chen Ji had originally assumed Grandpa White Tiger’s dream—sent after hefty donations—and the Mountain Lord’s sudden interruption had been mere coincidence. But now it was clear that was far from the truth. How could a deity care so much about an ordinary person? Even if that person was the priest of His temple…

So what about being a temple priest? Were they that rare? Couldn’t they just kill one and find a replacement? Was a temple priest the imperial seal or something? Whoever possessed it would be “granted heaven’s mandate, with eternal life and prosperity”?

Chen Ji rubbed the White Tiger’s head. The Mountain Lord had already tried to kill him before, and he held Xiangxiang in deep wariness. Convincing the Mountain Lord to set aside all prejudice and save him would no doubt cost Xiangxiang dearly.

Everyone knew the Mountain Lord and Xiangxiang were locked in a deadly feud. If he truly was the Mountain Lord… it would be a massive missed opportunity not to take advantage and kill Xiangxiang. Even if he couldn’t finish him off, inflicting grievous wounds would still be a win.

Chen Ji hugged him close and murmured, “Daoist Qingjing’s master has quite the knack for healing.”

Chen Ji’s unfocused eyes brimmed with amusement. He buried his head in the snow-white fur, rubbing against it vigorously. “Xiangxiang, let’s leave right now!”

The White Tiger froze, a flicker of confusion rising in his eyes. Chen Ji couldn’t see it; all he perceived was his Guai Guai staring at him with that adorably vacant look.

Chen Ji lifted his head. “Don’t understand?”

The White Tiger nodded.

Chen Ji planted a kiss on his nose. “We’re eloping.”

“We’ll come back after getting treated—no need for Him to find out!”

Some things couldn’t be discussed on Little Azure Mountain. They needed to go somewhere else.

“Wild.” Daoist Qingjing tapped out a single “Wild.” “So that’s how we ended up coming down the mountain?”

Chen Ji and Daoist Qingjing both stood at the entrance to the temple. The White Tiger sat politely at Chen Ji’s feet, his tail tucked neatly over his paws. Aside from his massive size, he looked perfectly normal.

Daoist Qingjing glanced up at the words “City God Temple,” then at the familiar surroundings, then at the White Tiger who was being polite enough not to step inside. He let out another: “Wild.”

Just ten minutes earlier, Chen Ji had brought the White Tiger along and asked if he wanted to return to the City God Temple. Of course he’d nodded. The next thing he knew, the White Tiger had opened a ghost path and dragged him straight inside. He hadn’t known a thing or understood a thing. When they emerged from the ghost path, they were already at the City God Temple’s doorstep!

Chen Ji shot back, “What else?”

Daoist Qingjing eyed Chen Ji’s utterly relaxed and casual demeanor, then shot him a fierce glare. Chen Ji asked, “If I may be so bold, when does your master have time?”

Daoist Qingjing said impatiently, “I’ll ask for you tomorrow—can I go now?”

Chen Ji gazed at him pleadingly. “I didn’t bring any ID.”

“You didn’t bring ID, but you didn’t bring your phone either?!” Daoist Qingjing rolled his eyes at him. “The X Court next door has a partnership with us. Mention my name for six off on a twin room!”

Chen Ji nodded. He had probably realized bringing Xiangxiang along might not be ideal for entering the City God Temple. Daoist Qingjing turned and headed inside upon seeing this. Chen Ji had visited the City God Temple a few times before and had a vague memory of the hotel. It didn’t take long to find the sign. He led the White Tiger inside.

It was just getting dark, the time when people got off work, but that was also when the hotel was at its quietest. When Chen Ji walked in, the receptionist perked up at the sight of him, her eyes lighting up. But the next instant, she noticed his archaic-style jacket and figured it was a no-go. Sure enough, she heard Chen Ji say, “Daoist Qingjing sent me. Do you have any twin rooms available?”

The receptionist sighed inwardly. Were all the handsome guys these days becoming Daoists? Still, that didn’t stop her from swiftly handling the check-in with a professional smile, seeing Chen Ji off to his room.

Perhaps Chen Ji’s movements had been too natural, but the receptionist hadn’t noticed he was completely blind.

The White Tiger followed closely at Chen Ji’s heels, seeming somewhat wary. Chen Ji found it amusing, but with cameras lining the hotel corridor, he didn’t want to chat much with Xiangxiang. He murmured softly to him, “Xiangxiang, look—which room is 2105?”

Compared to the mountain, this place was far too chaotic. The plastic door numbers on the doors here had almost no discernible lines around them. Chen Ji struggled to distinguish one room number from another.

The White Tiger silently wrapped his tail around Chen Ji’s wrist and tugged him back a few steps—they had passed it.

Once safely inside the room, Chen Ji let out a breath of relief. He headed to the bathroom first to wash his hands and face. Modern hotels provided sealed disposable towels now—use and toss. He grabbed one and called, “Xiangxiang, come here.”

The White Tiger padded over obediently, only to have the towel smothered over his head and scrubbed vigorously. His facial fur ended up in wet, clumped strands. Chen Ji set the towel aside and sat on the bed. Seeing Xiangxiang come sit beside him, he said patiently, “We can talk now, right?”

The White Tiger sat ramrod straight. The lines on his body were so vivid that Chen Ji could even make out his eyes fixed on the ceiling, his expression screaming “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Chen Ji looped an arm around his neck. “You can take your time to think it over.”

“But you have to explain clearly what’s going on between you and Grandpa Mountain Lord, right?” Chen Ji laid out his suspicions one by one. “Grandpa Mountain Lord… I don’t think I’ve done anything to offend him. Ever since I came back, I’ve rebuilt the Mountain Lord Temple and even planned to recast his golden body, offering worship every day. How exactly have I wronged him?”

Chen Ji paused, then stroked the White Tiger’s fur again. “Or did I piss you off? Just because I kissed and petted you, did you come to teach me a lesson?”

The White Tiger had long grown accustomed to Chen Ji’s handsy ways. One paw rested on Chen Ji’s leg as he spoke for the first time using his vocal cords, his voice human at last: “…No.”

His voice was pleasant, clear and resonant with the calm, unrippling flow of still water. One could tell from his tone that he wasn’t the enthusiastic type. Chen Ji tilted his head, feigning confusion. “Chang Xu?”

The White Tiger went rigid. But then he remembered Chen Ji had mentioned seeing his human form, and a sense of resignation washed over him. What was the point of pretending now that he’d already been seen?

A soft glow flashed, and a lanky youth appeared in Chen Ji’s arms. Chen Ji was still holding onto his neck and, pretending not to notice the change, stroked it again. “Hm? Chang Xu?”

Chang Xu caught Chen Ji’s hand. Chen Ji was half-expecting what might come next when suddenly his body lightened. In a daze, he realized Chang Xu had shifted him aside, a veritable duck-green river now separating them.

Chang Xu sat properly on the edge of the bed. “…It’s me.”

Chen Ji: “…Right. And?”

Chang Xu hung his head. “It wasn’t… intentional deception.”

“Oh? So you did intend to deceive me?” Chen Ji said flatly. “No matter. I’m just a mere mortal, after all. It’s normal to get fooled by immortals like you. No need to tell a fool like me.”

A rare flicker of urgency crossed Chang Xu’s handsome, icy features. He explained, “It wasn’t intentional. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Chen Ji: “Then what about after I was surrounded by the Red-Clothed Ghost and you took on my injuries? Why turn into a white tiger?”

Chang Xu paused. “Didn’t want you to worry.”

“…” For a moment, Chen Ji was speechless. Say he hadn’t seen Chang Xu? He’d indeed felt relief, thinking it was just a dream. But then he’d turned and seen the White Tiger lying there covered in blood. He wasn’t an idiot—the wounds were identical to the dream, all burns… How could he not suspect?

After all, this was deep in the mountains—no lightning, no forest fire, no one hurling Molotovs, no demons picking fights with tigers. How else could a tiger spirit end up so badly burned?

If he hadn’t known the White Tiger was a spirit, Chen Ji would’ve called the cops suspecting poachers in the hills.

“But I still worried seeing you as a tiger.” Chen Ji raised a hand, groping at empty air.

Chang Xu watched the young man lift his hand and grasp at nothing. A trace of disappointment crossed his brow, and he couldn’t help reaching out to clasp it. Seeing a smile light up the young man’s face, he murmured, “…It wasn’t a serious injury.”

Chen Ji took the chance to scoot closer to Chang Xu. “Ghost Immortal Sister said you’re the Mountain Lord. If you’re the Mountain Lord, then who’s that in the temple?”

Chen Ji paused. “If you don’t want to say… you don’t have to. But I really do want to know.”

Chang Xu fell silent for a moment before replying, “It’s complicated. Simply put, we are one and the same. Due to certain events, we split into two halves. He…”

He trailed off here, unsure how to describe that other half. He was more like a lofty monster. In his eyes, anyone who wasn’t a fellow deity was an ant… Some people might grieve over accidentally stepping on a few ants, but most wouldn’t care in the slightest—they wouldn’t even notice.

He was one of those “most people.”

Chen Ji pondered briefly. “Utterly inhuman.”

Chang Xu nodded. “Yes.”

“And you?” Chen Ji tilted his head slightly, speaking leisurely. “Can’t exactly say you’re a master of humanity either. After all, you have a blood feud with Grandpa White Tiger—the kind where you can’t even meet without fighting to the death…”

Chen Ji was referring to the time he’d wanted to introduce Chang Xu to Grandpa White Tiger, only for Chang Xu to claim they had an irreconcilable grudge and would surely battle to the death upon meeting.

Chang Xu stiffened, his downcast posture making him seem on the verge of shattering.

Chen Ji chuckled softly. He tugged Chang Xu over and leaned boldly against him. “Alright, no more teasing. So what then?”

“You two see each other as enemies, each wanting to devour the other? Whoever succeeds becomes the complete Mountain Lord?”

Chang Xu slowly let out a breath. He gazed cautiously at Chen Ji, who sat pressed shoulder to shoulder against him. “Back then,” he said, “you were targeted by the Red-Clothed Ghost. With no other choice, your grandfather begged the Mountain Lord to shelter you. We were still one entity at the time, so we agreed.”

“Mmm, I know.” Chen Ji remembered a hazy memory from his childhood—a time when a woman in red clothes had chased and beaten him. He hadn’t seen her since, which went to show that the Mountain Lord had truly protected him. “So why do you want to kill me now?”

Chen Ji suddenly turned to look at him. “Is it because I’m with you?”