Chapter 34: Can You Speak?

The setting sun bathed the land in its glow, painting Little Azure Mountain with a layer of shimmering crimson light—like fire itself, breathtaking in its beauty.

A bouquet of lush, dewy roses was tucked diagonally into Chen Ji’s backpack. The buds were enormous, layered petal upon petal, exuding a sweet fruity fragrance. Each gust of wind carried the fresh, candy-like scent to his nose—it was supposedly a new variety, something like lychee roses. The shop owner had hyped it up endlessly, going on about A-grade quality from some premium grower. Ten bucks a stem, and this whole bundle had set Chen Ji back a full two hundred!

That was only because he’d insisted on no wrapping. Otherwise, it would’ve been at least two ninety-nine.

Chen Ji spotted the gleaming golden ingot again. Under the sunset, it shimmered with an eerie red glow. He couldn’t help rolling his eyes before pretending not to see it and trudging onward up the mountain.

Something that bizarre? They’d have to beat him to death before he’d pick it up! No way was he letting it buy his life!

By the time Chen Ji returned to the Mountain Lord Temple, night had fully fallen. The System Cat shook out its fur and padded off for a drink of water. Chen Ji headed straight to the main hall to announce his return.

He flicked on the lights. The Mountain Lord Statue, mottled and weathered, cast blurry shadows under the glow of the 25-watt bulb. The edges of those shadows melted back into the darkness, as if some indescribable presence lurked there, claws outstretched in the gloom—profoundly eerie.

A irrepressible smile tugged at Chen Ji’s brows and eyes, though. He really was doing Grandpa Mountain Lord a disservice.

He approached with the flowers in his arms, first bowing deeply in respect. Then he replaced the wilting blooms in the vase with his extravagant new roses. The shop owner had nagged him a thousand times to trim the stems properly. Chen Ji was exhausted from the climb, and trimming flowers hardly counted as work. So he simply plopped down on the cushion, snipping away at the branches while chatting idly with Grandpa Mountain Lord.

“Grandpa Mountain Lord up above, you wouldn’t believe it. Xiao Wang must’ve pissed off something fierce. A fox spirit showed up at his place, stirring up all kinds of chaos for the family. And get this—something snake-like was latched onto him, utterly gross and terrifying. I couldn’t stand it, so I slapped a Five Thunder Talisman on it. Yeah, kind of a waste, but if you were around, you’d say I did the right thing.”

“Seriously, I’ve never seen anything so disgusting in my life. It was all slithering and clinging, trying to crawl onto me. Took everything I had not to hurl.” Chen Ji carefully pruned the roses’ leaves and thorns one by one. The stems were thick and sturdy, the thorns sharp as hell. He trimmed them meticulously, then dumped some sterilizing powder into the vase water.

“Oh, and also… a bunch of those creepy golden ingots popped up on the mountain today.” Chen Ji shared his suspicions, pulling a long face. “Are they really ghost money to buy my life? Are they after me…? Grandpa Mountain Lord, you have to protect me! I’m still young. I want to keep worshiping you for a good long time.”

Suddenly, a sharp sting pierced his finger. Chen Ji hissed and glanced down. A bead of blood was welling up fast in the middle of his index finger—he’d pricked it on a thorn. He squeezed out the drop, watching it quiver on his skin. He was about to grab a tissue to wipe it off when he remembered what Zhang Cheng had said during that video call session. Grinning, he turned to the Mountain Lord Statue. “Hang on, Grandpa Mountain Lord. I’ll be right back.”

He dashed to his room, grabbed a plastic pipette, and carefully sucked up the blood from his finger. Then he stored it in a LocknLock box and tossed it into the fridge. Wasn’t blood useful if you had a mountain god’s protection?

Pricking himself on purpose felt a bit much, but since it’d happened by accident, no sense wasting it.

The System Cat drawled lazily: 【By the way, did you order syringes?】

【Huh?】 Chen Ji replied. 【Yeah, what’s up?】

The System Cat went on: 【The cops just pulled your info. They saw you have a cat and closed the file.】

After a pause, it added: 【You really gonna draw your own blood?】

Without thinking, Chen Ji shot back: 【You do it for me.】

He pictured it: a little slip-up, a quick “ouch,” all accidental. How could that count as exploiting a glitch? He didn’t say it aloud, though—or spell it out blatantly for the System Cat. They shared a mind link, after all.

The System Cat ground its teeth and fired off a solo 6 at him.

Chen Ji returned to the main hall, more careful this time. He arranged the roses in a flash and slotted them into the vase. He carted off the big trash himself and left the rest for the sweeping robot. “I’ll go whip up dinner now,” he said breezily. “Come back later to make offerings.”

As he turned to go, his peripheral vision caught the Moon Blocks on the altar table. Before he knew it, he’d picked them up. He paused, chuckling to himself—he had no idea why, but since his hand was already there, why not ask?

“Is that golden ingot here to buy my life?” He tossed them casually. They clattered to the floor with a crisp sound: two yang—laughing blocks. The sign of the divine chuckling silently. Rephrase and try again.

Chen Ji pondered for a second. “Should I pick up that golden ingot, then?”

They landed: one yin, one yang—Holy Block. Yes.

His brows lifted slightly. Scooping them up, he asked with a joking lilt: “Did you send it? Because I’ve been spending a fortune lately?”

One yin, one yang—Holy Block. Yes.

Chen Ji gazed at the result on the floor and let out a soft laugh. “It really was from you… I thought some monster was after my soul. Forgive my ignorance—don’t hold my earlier words against me.”

“I’ll go grab that money right now… Next time you wanna send something, just drop it by my bedside. Then I’d know. I don’t dare touch cash lying around outside.”

He set the Moon Blocks back on the altar and bowed to the statue before leaving.

Once Chen Ji had finished cooking, tended to all the offerings and feedings around the house, and eaten his own meal, he carried a portion of food to the chicken coop.

He’d glanced in earlier upon returning and seen the red fox looking listless, but hadn’t bothered with it. Now it was curled in the exact same spot.

Chen Ji stepped inside and beckoned the red fox. “Come here.”

It lifted its head for a quick peek at him, then dropped it fast, pretending not to hear as it huddled even tighter. Sighing, Chen Ji walked over. As he approached, the red fox let out a shrill whine and balled itself into a trembling puff in the corner.

He felt like a total creep about to torment a poor little animal.

Chen Ji smirked and crouched in front of it. “Listen up—I’m gonna put some medicine on you. No biting or scratching.”

The red fox trembled harder, playing dumb.

Chen Ji ignored that and slapped the electric baton down beside it. “Meet the Post-Heaven Thunderclap Cloud Thunder Stick. Summons the purest lightning imaginable. Keep fighting, and I’ll have to send you on your way.”

The red fox cracked open one eye to eye the baton, then burrowed deeper into the corner, shaking like a leaf. Chen Ji didn’t bother with more coaxing. He reached in, felt around its body, and yanked out a hind leg.

The red fox was forced to stretch out a bit, though it kept its head jammed in the corner, not daring another glance. That movement revealed the wound on the back of its neck: blood crusted into dark red clumps, matting its fiery fur into pathetic tufts. It looked utterly pitiable.

But remembering how this “Grandpa Fox” had lounged with legs crossed, driving folks to riversides and nooses and turning families upside down… well, not so pitiable after all.

Right or wrong, Xiao Wang was a human acquaintance. This was some random demon he’d never met. Of course he’d side with Xiao Wang.

Demons didn’t need reasons to chow down on people, after all—just like how Second Master Huang had chased him relentlessly in spectral form, hell-bent on his demise. Or that Spectacle King Cobra eyeing him for no reason. What could he do about it?

The real stand-up guy was Grandpa White Tiger. Flashy, badass, total apex predator vibes—like he could snack on a human anytime. But actually? Gentle, adorable, never snacking randomly. Hell, downright helpful.

Chen Ji tore open an alcohol wipe and dabbed at the red fox’s wound. It let out a pained whine. He pretended not to hear, grabbed the clippers, and shaved the fur around it. Two ugly, gaping holes stared back at him.

The good news? Demon on demon—Second Master Huang hadn’t gone for the kill. The bites weren’t deep, and the bleeding had stopped. Just looked scary. Chen Ji swabbed on iodine, slathered a thick layer of Yunnan Baiyao powder, and wrapped it in gauze.

By now, the red fox was totally subdued. It lay stock-still on the floor, no struggles even when it hurt—only a couple pitiful whines. Its dark eyes brimmed with tears. Amused, Chen Ji pinched its muzzle. “Such a delicate little thing, huh? And you still went around causing trouble?”

The red fox whimpered, a fat tear splatting down.

Chen Ji tapped its head. “Quit playing dumb. You understand every word.”

Another whimper. He grabbed its front paws in one hand. “Spill it. Why mess with Xiao Wang’s family? What’d they ever do to you?”

This time, dead silence. Chen Ji was about to call it out when he remembered: cultivation wasn’t there yet. It probably couldn’t speak human at all. Should he fetch Second Grandpa Huang for translation?

Talk about overkill.

He didn’t know any other animal spirits anyway.

Eh, whatever.

Chen Ji fetched a box of egg yolk pastries, figuring he’d bribe some outside help. The mountain was deserted, so he flung open the temple doors, ready to holler “Second Grandpa Huang” three times. Suddenly, a little yellow weasel burst from the bushes.

Chen Ji recognized it—the one that had brought him those wild raspberries before.

He beckoned with a grin. “C’mere.”

It bolted over like a shot, claws snagging his pant leg as it squeaked up a storm. Chen Ji bent down and ruffled its chubby little head. “You speak human?”

It nodded. A faint childish voice piped up: 【Speak… not good.】

Chen Ji laughed. “As long as you can talk, that’s perfect. Help me with one thing, and this whole box of egg yolk pastries is yours. Deal?”

The little yellow weasel fell silent. Chen Ji assumed it was unhappy with the idea. But in the very next second, he saw its head nodding frantically like it was pounding garlic: 【Okay, okay, okay! Thank you, thank you! I can do it—I really can!】

Chen Ji thought, wasn’t that said pretty smoothly?