The System Cat wanted to say something more, but it saw Chen Ji plop down on his butt. He pulled out the bamboo basket and gulped down several mouthfuls of water. When he noticed the dark bloodstains splattered inside the basket, he couldn’t help but snicker. He rubbed the top of the System Cat’s head. “See for yourself.”
He didn’t have the energy to speak.
The System Cat dutifully scanned Chen Ji’s memories. In the next instant, Chen Ji’s mind was flooded with a barrage of “Holy shit!” He chugged more water and fished two Heart-Protecting Pills from his pocket before swallowing them. He really needed them.
He was afraid that if he ran into another one on the way back, no one would come to save him this time. He’d just drop dead on the spot from sheer terror, heart seizing up.
The System Cat withdrew from Chen Ji’s mind and flopped onto his body like a little piggy. 【That was way too scary! What the hell happened? How is your hometown this creepy?】
【Holy shit, that guy was badass! One slash and he took out that snake! No wonder you wanted to keep him around!】
Chen Ji rested one hand on its belly and rubbed it, murmuring softly in response. “Mm.”
Chen Ji wasn’t in any hurry to leave the area. He felt safe enough within this range for now. Most animals had territories, after all. Since that Snake Spirit had shown up, there probably wouldn’t be any similar monsters within a three-kilometer radius… And even if there were, wasn’t that big shot still around?
He probably hadn’t gone far yet. With someone that powerful nearby, no other spirits would dare show their faces.
The road home was another story, though. So he decided to stay put and recover his strength first. That way, even if he ended up in a desperate struggle later, he’d at least last a few extra minutes before being torn to shreds.
Everyone had a survival instinct, and Chen Ji was no exception.
After resting for half an hour, Chen Ji finally regained his strength. The System Cat watched as he tucked away the bamboo pole, and it gaped in disbelief. 【…We’re not heading back?】
“We’ve come this far. It’d be a shame not to get them,” Chen Ji replied.
After escaping the jaws of that snake twice, it would be a waste not to finish the task after all this suffering.
The System Cat had no choice but to give Chen Ji a big thumbs-up. From now on, it would tell its system buddies: When picking a host, go for the workhorses. Sure, those college kids and high schoolers had plenty of passion, but their emotions swung wildly. One moment they were all in; the next, they’d quit cold turkey, no matter how much you cajoled or threatened them. The beaten-down workhorses of society were the real pros. Even after nearly getting eaten, they bounced back and kept at it. Hell, the system itself thought he should head home and rest—but nope, the guy just powered through!
Chen Ji had only taken a few steps when his foot kicked something. At first he thought it was a vine, but when he looked down, he saw a length of Headless Snake Bones. The bones had been split open down the middle, only merging back together at the tip.
For some reason, Chen Ji felt certain these belonged to the culprit. As if compelled by some unseen force, he stuffed the snake bones into his bamboo basket to take home. They’d already been hacked apart, so anything lingering on them should be gone by now.
And if not? No big deal. He’d boil them in water for eight hours to kill any germs, brine them with salt, deep-fry them, and sprinkle on some pepper salt before offering them up on Grandpa Mountain Lord’s altar. If the snake had any complaints, it could take them up with him!
Chen Ji didn’t deny that this was payback.
With the bamboo pole in hand, knocking down the mulberries was a breeze. They had ripened to a deep, vibrant purple-red, and the air around the tree was thick with their sweet fragrance. Chen Ji spread his shirt out beneath the branches and used the pole to tap them down. He was careful about it, targeting just the right spots so most of the mulberries landed on the fabric.
The moment he picked up the first one, the system notified him that the task was complete. The decoration pack had been successfully delivered. Chen Ji rinsed a handful of mulberries with water and shared a feast with the System Cat. He set aside some more in a tin foil bowl, bowed to the four directions of the mountains, and then left.
Once he was gone, the White-Clothed Youth emerged from the woods. He gazed at the mulberries in the tin foil bowl, still glistening with water droplets. After a moment’s hesitation, he sat down nearby and plucked one up to eat.
The tart-sweet juice flooded his mouth. A vivid stain bloomed across his pale lips. He paused, then his slender fingers reached for a second mulberry.
…
By the time Chen Ji got home, night had already fallen. He’d entered the woods feeling like it was just past noon, but when he emerged, the sun was dipping toward the horizon.
Uncle Liu and the others had long since finished work and gone home. They always made it back before sunset.
Chen Ji’s first order of business was a bath. His jacket should have been torn by the Snake Spirit’s claws, but it was intact. When he stripped off his sweat-soaked undershirt and turned to check his back, he saw two hand-shaped bruises on his shoulders.
The bruises were a mottled blue-purple. Two spots in particular were deeper, almost black—the punctures from the Snake Spirit’s fangs. Curiously, these marks blended with the patterns from his Fire Dragon Waist Entwine in an oddly similar way.
Chen Ji’s gaze sharpened, clear and piercing. Then a shy smile crept onto his face. He turned away from the mirror, rinsed off quickly, and grabbed some Yunnan Baiyao spray for his back. From the medicine kit, he pulled out some Soul-Settling Medicine and took a dose. The shocks he’d endured that day had been too much; he suspected his body might react poorly.
Sure enough, in the middle of the night, Chen Ji spiked a fever. The System Cat fetched some fever reducers and clamped them in his mouth. He swallowed them in a haze and slept until dawn. When he got up to use the bathroom, his whole body swayed. Calculating the timing, he figured it wasn’t time for the next dose yet, so he crawled back into bed.
That’s how he ended up waiting until Uncle Liu and the others arrived for work. Uncle Liu first thought Chen Ji had gone out, but then the fat cat Chen Ji kept started meowing insistently at him and tugged at his pant leg, urging him inside. Pushing open the bedroom door, Uncle Liu found Chen Ji burning up and barely conscious.
Uncle Liu touched his forehead and jumped back in alarm. Spotting the medicine kit nearby, he grabbed the thermometer and took Chen Ji’s temperature. It was pushing forty degrees. He immediately called out to get Chen Ji to the hospital.
That was when Chen Ji woke up. He stared blankly at everything around him. His vision was shrouded in gloom, as if he’d donned glasses tinted deep purple-black. Everything took on an eerie hue. Uncle Liu’s honest face looked—no exaggeration—like it had just crawled out of a grave. Chen Ji’s heart skipped, but then he steadied himself. Learning from yesterday’s mistake, he didn’t make a sound.
His head spun. It felt like his soul had floated free, barely tethered to his body.
Uncle Liu nudged him. “Xiao Chen? Xiao Chen, you okay?! Come on, we’re taking you to the village clinic!”
The town clinic was too far; for headaches or fevers, folks went to the village one first. A few antibiotics usually did the trick.
Chen Ji’s expression was wooden. He didn’t respond, just slowly rose and shuffled toward the door. Uncle Liu took it as agreement. Xiao Wang and Xiao Zhang came over to support him, but Chen Ji pretended not to notice and kept walking on his own.
As they passed the main hall, Chen Ji glanced inside on impulse. Amid the pervasive murk, only the Mountain Lord Statue retained its original vivid colors, even faintly glowing with golden light. Chen Ji immediately shook off the two young men and strode into the hall.
“Brother Chen?!” Xiao Wang saw him staggering and hurried after, steadying him. “Watch your step—you don’t want to fall!”
The hall floor was paved with hard bricks. A tumble there wouldn’t be a joke.
The moment Chen Ji entered the main hall, it was as if those invisible tinted glasses were lifted. Xiao Wang and Xiao Zhang beside him regained the healthy glow of living people. Chen Ji parted his lips and exhaled slowly. He waved them off and sank onto the prayer mat before the statue.
Chen Ji coughed twice. His gaze suddenly fixed on the bell atop the offering table. It was one of his grandfather’s old things. He’d brought it out late last night when offering a snack to Grandpa Mountain Lord, scared half to death, but forgot to take it back. In a weak voice, he said, “…Hand me… the bell…”
He couldn’t explain why he needed to do this, but he knew he had to.
Xiao Zhang blinked, then grabbed the bell from the table and passed it to him. “This one?”
Chen Ji nodded. His eyes drifted shut from exhaustion. He pinched the handle between three fingers and gave it a gentle shake.
A crisp ring exploded in everyone’s ears. It pierced straight through them in that instant. Chen Ji felt it too—his ears buzzed violently. But the drifting, untethered sensation vanished. It was like his wandering soul had snapped back into his body, bringing a strange, subtle sense of solidity.
The bell rang three times before falling silent, though echoes lingered in the hall. Xiao Wang, Xiao Zhang, and Uncle Liu stared in surprise at the bell in Chen Ji’s hand, wondering how such a small thing could produce so much volume.
Chen Ji leaned against the offering table, eyes closed, and murmured, “I’ll just sit here a bit. Uncle Liu, you all go ahead with work. Don’t worry about me.”
Uncle Liu exchanged looks with Xiao Wang and Xiao Zhang. They marveled silently. Just a few bell tolls, and Chen Ji already looked better? Color returned to his pale face, his breathing steadied, and he brimmed with vitality.
Not that they were exaggerating—moments ago, he really had looked half-dead.
Chen Ji sat there for a long while before opening his eyes. He glared at the bell in his hand, fuming inwardly: Today, he was definitely turning those snake bones into pepper-salt fried snacks!
