The Daoist was stunned for a moment, convinced he’d misheard. It took him half a day to sputter out, “How are you… so unreasonable?!”
Chen Ji laughed. “I came here in good faith to offer incense and donate Incense Fire, and you immediately tell me not to come back—practically pointing at my nose and telling me to get lost—without even giving a reason. Who’s the unreasonable one here?”
“Are you really clueless, or just pretending?!” The Daoist’s face darkened. “Don’t you know? I’m telling you to stay away for your own good. You’ve got Sha Qi all over you—what you’ve been worshiping, you know damn well in your heart!”
Chen Ji didn’t even furrow his brow. “What have I been worshiping? Daoist, you can’t just throw around accusations like that with nothing but empty words.”
With Chen Ji looking so righteously indignant, he didn’t seem like he was lying. The Daoist glanced around, gritted his teeth, and said, “Come with me to the back. It’s not convenient to talk here.”
Chen Ji naturally agreed—but he assumed “the back” meant the temple’s tearoom or the Daoist’s quarters. Instead, the Daoist led him straight out the back door. Only after it shut behind them did the Daoist speak. “Everything you said earlier… it’s all true?”
“True,” Chen Ji nodded. “Why would I lie to you?”
That made sense. If he had a guilty conscience, he’d be running scared—why would he dare show up at the City God Temple, a place that specialized in dealing with local demons and ghosts?
The Daoist eyed him searchingly. “Give me your birth chart.”
“Gregorian calendar okay?” Chen Ji asked. Seeing the Daoist nod, he reported his birthday: “February 22, 1999, around four in the afternoon, I think.”
The Daoist had already pulled out his phone. Chen Ji watched as a birth chart appeared on the screen and murmured, “Fortune-telling’s gotten pretty advanced these days…”
“Flipping through a book works just as well. Why not use something more convenient?” The Daoist didn’t look up, quickly calculating on his knuckles with his fingertips. Then he raised his head, puzzled. “Your chart isn’t anything special… You’ve got the Seven Killings pattern. That sort of thing usually doesn’t mess with people lightly.”
Yet Chen Ji’s features were handsome and refined, with narrow eyes, a full forehead, a nose like a suspended gallstone, upturned lips that were thinly drawn. If not for the overly dark eyes and the faint, almost imperceptible azure-black tinge between his brows and under his eyes—which ruined the entire feng shui of his face—it would have been a classic pattern of wealth and nobility.
That layer of azure-black not only shattered his noble prospects but also foretold that his time was running out.
No wonder he’d come to the City God Temple. He must have provoked something.
The Daoist suddenly asked, “You shouldn’t be here. Why did you suddenly decide to return to Little Azure Mountain?”
“What’s wrong with Little Azure Mountain?” Chen Ji keenly picked up on that.
Most people would assume he lived in Shangyang Village—after all, it was the only settlement near Little Azure Mountain. But the Daoist had specified Little Azure Mountain.
Chen Ji blinked, looking at the Daoist curiously. The Daoist pressed his lips tight and handed over a packet wrapped in yellow paper. “I don’t have any great methods to help you. Take this Protective Amulet. The pouch is waterproof—you can even wear it in the bath… There’s a Mountain Lord Temple on Little Azure Mountain. Go pray there.”
“I know about the Mountain Lord Temple,” Chen Ji said, eyeing the Daoist in confusion. “Can’t the City God handle Little Azure Mountain?”
The Daoist replied, “Different jurisdictions. The area around your home falls under Little Azure Mountain’s watch.”
Chen Ji looked a bit defeated. “You Daoists can’t handle it either?”
“We can, but we don’t have the power to,” the Daoist said. After a moment’s thought, he added, “Think back carefully. Did you accidentally offend some demon or ghost at some point? Unless there’s deep hatred, those things won’t travel across provinces just to torment someone.”
It wasn’t attempted murder, then. According to Chen Ji, if it wanted him dead, he’d be gone already—he wouldn’t have lasted this long. Constant nightmares about demons and ghosts usually meant a special constitution, or a period of weakness and illness, making one vulnerable to influences. Or perhaps he’d unwittingly touched something related and offended those entities, leading to endless nightmares.
Otherwise? The world wasn’t in chaos. As long as it wasn’t, rules held. This wasn’t an age of rampant demons slaughtering at will…
The Daoist had no idea what exactly Chen Ji had done, but since he’d run into him today and couldn’t help but speak up, he’d do what he could—no regrets.
“If you really can’t remember, offer plenty to the Mountain Lord and beg for his protection. Might just work.”
“Got it, got it. Thanks, Daoist.” Chen Ji thanked him profusely, about to take his leave, when the Daoist suddenly flashed a WeChat QR code. “That’ll be two thousand, please.”
Chen Ji paused, then silently scanned and paid.
The Daoist heard the payment notification, turned, opened the door, and went back inside, leaving Chen Ji alone outside. Only then did the System Cat chime in: 【Chen Ji, I think this Daoist comes off as really arrogant.】
Chen Ji fiddled with the red cord on the Protective Amulet, slipping it around his neck as he replied: 【People with real ability can afford a bit of attitude.】
【From what he said, it sounds like Grandpa Mountain Lord isn’t protecting you?】 the System Cat said.
Chen Ji figured that had to be it.
Assuming everything the Daoist said was true, the fact that he couldn’t handle Little Azure Mountain meant the Mountain Lord had full power to shield him from harm. Yet Chen Ji had faced so many dangers on the mountain… He was now responsible for sweeping the Mountain Lord Temple, essentially serving as its keeper. By rights, the Mountain Lord shouldn’t abandon him.
The System Cat couldn’t figure it out either. After a long pause, it said: 【Hasn’t your family always served as temple keepers? Could it be because your dad didn’t want to, and dragged you off to live elsewhere, so after Grandpa passed, no one took over and the temple fell into ruin… Maybe he’s trying to teach you a lesson?】
【Grandpa’s been gone for more than a year or two.】 Chen Ji said: 【It’s almost twenty years now.】
【Pushed to the limit?】 The System Cat pondered, then sighed in his mind: 【But according to the Daoist, if you properly worship the Mountain Lord and earn his forgiveness, you should be able to live in peace, right? …I told you to go back and fix up the temple sooner, but you wouldn’t listen.】
Chen Ji said coolly: 【If something inexplicable popped into your head, telling you to sell your house, quit your job, move back to your hometown to farm, and dump all your savings into some godforsaken old house in the middle of nowhere, would you agree without a second thought?】
The System Cat pawed at its own cat face. This was the downside of recruiting a workhorse—high schoolers or college kids could be swayed with a pep talk into thinking they were chosen ones, raring to go. But a beaten-down adult? In the real world, it was all about emotions or money. Without enough of either, expecting someone to ditch a stable life was a pipe dream.
【…I’ll give you a couple of high-level tasks. How about recasting a golden body for Grandpa Mountain Lord? Gold leaf’s cheap these days—not too pricey… Records say reshaping a golden body or rebuilding a temple are top-tier offerings. That should earn his forgiveness.】
Chen Ji nodded. For now, that was the best plan.
He touched the Yellow Talisman at his neck, feeling a fleeting sense of calm. Then, with the System Cat in tow, he headed to an old bookstore. If he was serious about restoring the Mountain Lord Temple, he’d need some architecture references. Next, he hit the market for meat and veggies. Remembering his promise to Grandpa Mountain Lord, he group-bought a bouquet for 59.9 yuan and carried it home.
No express van to hitch a ride this time, so Chen Ji booked a ride-hailing car. But three drivers in a row canceled when they saw the order. He doubled the fare, and still no takers.
Couldn’t blame them. The hundred-kilometer trip back was all bumpy, narrow mountain roads, and they’d return empty, hitting home in the dead of night. Everyone knew how risky night driving on mountain roads could be. Chen Ji rubbed his temples, thinking of just hailing a black cab, when someone shouted, “Chen Ji!”
Chen Ji almost turned instinctively but caught himself. Then he remembered he was in a public place, sun still high—not dusk yet. Probably not some demon or ghost. Only then did he look back and see Uncle Liu leaning halfway out of a minivan by the roadside, waving at him.
Chen Ji let out a barely audible sigh of relief. “Uncle Liu!”
He hurried over. Uncle Liu, seeing him approach, knew what he wanted and slid the door open. “Heading back to the village? Hop in! Whoa—you bought a ton of stuff!”
He pitched in to help load it.
“No need to stand on ceremony,” Chen Ji said. “Uncle Liu, you’re heading back too? How’s the Old Lady doing?”
“That’s exactly why!” Uncle Liu grinned broadly. “The doc said we got her there fast enough. But old folks are frail, so I figured we’d hook her up to a couple bags of albumin at the hospital. Your Aunt Wang’s watching her… With the good weather these days, I thought I’d come back first and help you finish that wall… Thanks, Uncle owes you! I’ll pay back that five thousand for sure—no way I’ll let you foot the bill!”
Chen Ji shook his head. “We’re all neighbors. Consider it my treat—no need to repay.”
Uncle Liu started to protest, but Chen Ji waved him off. “No arguing. If it bothers you that much, just invite me for a few more Free-Range Chickens later!”
Uncle Liu agreed readily, his smile even more relaxed. Five thousand wasn’t pocket change for him. He did construction, all dependent on local demand for building or repairs. No gigs? He’d farm, but that barely paid. Especially with the Old Lady in the hospital on self-pay nutrition drips—hundreds a bag. Repaying five grand would make the year lean.
A few chickens? Piece of cake—he raised them anyway.
Chen Ji eyed the van. “Uncle Liu, you got a car now?”
He’d been mulling it himself—maybe get a car or motorcycle. Something that could handle two or three hundred kilometers round trip. He’d still need to come to town, and the back-and-forth was a hassle.
“Nah.” Uncle Liu climbed into the driver’s seat. “With Mom sick and all, coming back would’ve been tough. Cabs cost hundreds! Borrowed this from a buddy for now.”
Uncle Liu offered him a cigarette. Chen Ji took it but didn’t light up. Uncle Liu said, “Alright, we’re off then. Need to grab anything else? We’re driving anyway—I’ll drop you home!”
Chen Ji thought for a moment and realized there was nothing else he needed to buy. “Uncle Liu, let’s go. If we don’t leave soon, it’ll be dark.”
Uncle Liu nodded with his usual honest simplicity, floored the accelerator, and the car shot forward.
Chen Ji turned to gaze at the scenery outside the window. By now, the sun showed signs of setting. As he looked toward Little Azure Mountain, he suddenly noticed that the place seemed shrouded in a thin layer of black mist.
He rubbed his eyes and peered closely again, but the black mist had vanished.
…Was it just his imagination?
