Chapter 56: President Zhou

The little youth froze for a split second before suddenly thrusting his finger toward Chen Ji. 【You… you! It was you! You killed me?! You’re really a Chang Ghost?!】

Chen Ji couldn’t even be bothered to sigh. “Whatever. Figure it out yourself. It’s too late—I’m going to bed.”

With that, Chen Ji scooped up Second Master Huang and headed inside.

【Hey?! Don’t go! At least explain it clearly!】 The little youth tried to follow but was blocked by the firmly shut temple door. He clutched his aching face from the collision, sucking in a sharp breath of cold air. In the next moment, he tentatively touched the door again in disbelief. The solid, tangible sensation left him dazed.

Chen Ji didn’t care about any of that. It wasn’t his responsibility in the first place. When others ran into trouble, he’d called the police and even gone to the station himself—he figured that was more than enough. As for why the little youth had come here, Chen Ji had no idea. Better not to stir up trouble where there was none. Weren’t Ghost Messengers supposed to come pick up wandering spirits like him? Let them handle it.

After the unexpected outing that day, Chen Ji had made some late-night snacks and offered them before the statue to apologize. As he finished cleaning up and prepared for bed, he spotted a flash of red near the chicken coop watching him. He paused mid-step but didn’t look away. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized it wasn’t the ominous red shadow he’d feared—it was the red-furred fox.

The red fox lay draped over the chicken coop fence, looking utterly pitiful. When it noticed Chen Ji watching, it let out a series of maximally aggrieved whimpers. Chen Ji felt a twinge of guilt and turned back to the kitchen for the leftover oden, along with a hefty slab of pork belly he’d just bought from the supermarket. Only then did he approach the coop.

The red fox didn’t rush to eat even after Chen Ji delivered the food. Instead, it pawed at his pant leg, its hind legs kicking frantically as if trying to leap into his arms. Amused, Chen Ji bent down and picked it up. Goodness knew where the little thing had learned it, but it immediately buried its head against his cheek in a frenzy of nuzzling.

The fox’s fur, soft as silk, brushed against Chen Ji’s neck, tickling him into laughter. He held one hand against its muzzle. “No licking.”

Before the words had even settled, a pink tongue darted through his fingers.

The red fox knew it had messed up. It let out a sheepish little whine. Suddenly, a voice cut in: 【It’s faking. The fox is doing it on purpose.】

Chen Ji looked up to see Second Master Huang perched high on the eaves in a regal, aloof pose, bathed in moonlight like a person in meditation. Its eyes were half-closed, a faint silver glow enveloping its body—whether from itself or the moon, Chen Ji couldn’t tell.

The red fox promptly shoved its head into Chen Ji’s chest, trembling all over. Chen Ji chuckled and hugged it tighter, calling out, “Second Grandpa hasn’t gone home yet?”

【The moonlight’s nice tonight. I’m meditating here.】 Second Master Huang paused before adding, 【That red fur thinks you’ve got good food and drink here. It’s trying to mooch off you with all that cutesy acting.】

Chen Ji laughed softly. He glanced down at the red fox. “Is that true?”

Only then did the red fox peek out, nodding timidly. Chen Ji ruffled its head but still hadn’t decided whether to let it stay. Feeding a fox wouldn’t bankrupt him, but taking care of any pet meant commitment.

After a moment’s thought, Chen Ji told the red fox, “You’re welcome to visit anytime.”

He preferred occasional company like Second Master Huang’s—drop by for chats or meals, no strings attached, just friends without the burden.

The red fox let out a whine and rolled around in Chen Ji’s arms, pulling out all the stops like it was throwing a full-blown tantrum. Chen Ji simply set it down and let it roll until it was covered in grass.

Seeing Chen Ji’s calm, gentle expression with no hint of softening in his eyes, the red fox gave up. It rubbed against his pant leg once more before climbing obediently to its food.

Chen Ji finally left the coop. He drew a bucket of water from the well and washed his hands leisurely. Glancing up, he saw Second Master Huang still meditating solemnly. Curious, Chen Ji fetched a ladder, climbed onto the roof, and sat beside it.

Second Master Huang cut an impressively enlightened figure just then—silent, still, radiating solemn dignity. Chen Ji propped his chin on his hand, watching it for a bit before asking, “Second Grandpa, why did that kid come back to Little Azure Mountain?”

Second Master Huang didn’t open its eyes. 【Probably some unfinished business. He died here young, got himself stuck in a loop of regrets, wandering the mountain.】

【Not a big deal. Some spirits snap out of it and move on. If the Ghost Messengers have time, they’ll come fetch him.】

Chen Ji nodded. “Alright, then I’ll leave it alone.”

From his vantage point, he could just make out the corner of the little youth’s bright yellow outdoor jacket peeking from under the eaves. The kid seemed to be sitting there hugging his knees, lost in thought. Chen Ji smirked and told Second Master Huang, “I’m heading down. Meditate at your leisure.”

Second Master Huang acknowledged him with a sound. Chen Ji descended the ladder carefully. Passing the side room, he saw Xiangxiang already asleep, so he lightened his steps and entered the master bedroom. The System Cat yawned. [Get up early tomorrow. The kid’s family is already in town—they’ll definitely contact you.]

Chen Ji: [That fast?]

[Yeah.] The System Cat had only gotten involved out of curiosity, hacking into official cameras to watch the drama. [He’s their only child, so of course they rushed.]

Chen Ji stared into space for a moment, then went to wash up and hit the hay.

Around midnight, faint sobbing woke him. He’d grown sensitive to such sounds lately—if he heard them, he woke up.

Three a.m.

Rubbing his temples with a headache, Chen Ji got out of bed, his face dark.

The instant his foot hit the floor, the System Cat jolted awake and chomped his arm. [Holy crap! Chen Ji, wake up!… Oh, you’re already awake?]

The System Cat met Chen Ji’s clear eyes and sheepishly released him.

Two bloody punctures welled up on Chen Ji’s arm. He pressed a tissue to them, a hint of amusement softening his brows as he petted the System Cat’s head. [It’s fine. I suddenly crave a snack. I’ll grab some—you sleep.]

[Okay… bring me some too.] The System Cat promptly flopped down and passed out again.

The little youth sat hugging his knees, tears streaming silently down his face, punctuated by occasional sniffles. This mountain was terrifying. Sitting alone here gave him goosebumps all over—even though he was a ghost himself! Why did it feel like something ghostly was staring him down?

He could clearly sense that if he strayed from the temple door, he’d die for sure. Something had its eyes on him, held back only by the Mountain God Temple. So he stayed put, praying for dawn. Weren’t the Ghost Messengers supposed to come for him? Where were they?

His mom must have seen his body by now, but he couldn’t be there for her. So young, and he’d gone and gotten himself killed. How heartbroken would she be? The thought sent fresh tears spilling.

Suddenly, a glow flickered beside him. He rubbed his blurry, tear-filled eyes and turned to look. There, out of nowhere, sat a pile of snacks, a big bottle of cola, and an older-model Huawei tablet.

He stared in disbelief for a good while before reaching out to touch them. To his shock, they were real—the tablet even lit up under his fingers. And it was connected to Wi-Fi!

Why were these here? Had his mom burned them for him?

Starving—his stomach burned like fire despite being dead—he glanced around cautiously and tore into a bag of beef jerky. The savory, rich flavor exploded on his tongue. The little youth nearly sobbed with gratitude.

After devouring half the snacks and chugging cola, he felt much better. He picked up the tablet—clearly someone else’s, loaded with high-tech apps he didn’t recognize, all dense black screens of green code when opened.

He closed it and obediently launched a video app, picking one at random.

…

On the other side, once the fire in the brazier had died completely, Chen Ji doused it with water to prevent mishaps. He turned to the white tiger. “Xiangxiang, I’m done.”

The white tiger lounged lazily nearby but rose and padded over at his words.

The yard smelled foul, but Chen Ji figured no exploding battery was a win, so he didn’t mind. He ruffled the white tiger’s head. It was used to the attention now, even leaning into his palm.

Chen Ji smiled inwardly and tweaked its ears. “Mimi, we really don’t need to worry about the guy outside?”

The white tiger nodded. Chen Ji exhaled in relief. “Good.”

He gave the white tiger’s rear a light swat. It leaped three feet into the air like it’d been shocked, landing and whipping around in startled alarm. Chen Ji said impassively, “Come on, bedtime.”

He strode past. The white tiger hesitated, then followed back inside.

Chen Ji slept well enough, though half-awake moments brought faint echoes of “First Blood!” and “Double Kill!” from elsewhere. Otherwise, all was peaceful.

The next morning around eight, his phone rang. A hoarse female voice came through. “Hello, I’m Zhou Yunfan’s mother. Thank you for bringing my son back yesterday… Could we meet? I’d like to thank you in person.”

Chen Ji replied, “I’m sorry, Lady Zhou. I live up in the mountains—it’s inconvenient to come to town. If you need details, we could video call?”

“Alright, thank you… Are you free now? How about half an hour?”

Chen Ji checked the time and agreed.

“Thank you.” Lady Zhou hung up.

Her assistant approached as the call ended, murmuring in her ear, “President Zhou, we’ve looked into it. He’s just a mountain local—no connection to the young master. I sent you the file.”

The woman with red, swollen eyes dabbed at them with a handkerchief. Her voice was hoarse as she said, “Mm, make sure the money is ready. We can’t skimp on showing our gratitude.”

“Understood, President Zhou.”

Lady Zhou tapped open Chen Ji’s file. She had barely slept a wink all night, only passing out from exhaustion right before dawn after hours of crying. In that brief moment, she had a dream. She saw that little bastard sitting at the entrance to a temple, munching on potato chips while playing games… You bastard!

The memory brought fresh tears streaming down her face.

Suddenly, her finger froze as she scrolled through the documents.

…This temple… How was it exactly the same as the one in her dream?!

“Get everything ready,” she said at once. “We leave for Little Azure Mountain in forty-five minutes.”

“Yes, President Zhou.”