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Chapter 69: Huang Er! Hands Off!


Chen Ji gave a subtle smile, grasping Second Master Huang’s meaning.

What Second Master Huang meant was this: since Chen Ji had used the excuse of renovations to block the idol’s detection of the mortal world, only to pause the work afterward, it already left loose ends that made “It” suspicious and uneasy. Then he brought home the White Tiger—supposedly their mortal enemy—for an extended stay, and now the Blue-Clothed Ghost Immortal had shown up too. So when Chen Ji entered his dream, It couldn’t sit still any longer and invaded directly.

As for why Chen Ji had asked It why It was in such a hurry, Second Master Huang had made it clear that wasn’t something he could meddle in. Even when referring to It, he mostly stuck to vague placeholders and metaphors, tossing out a couple of harmless jabs at most—after all, he was just a yellow weasel born and raised on Little Azure Mountain. He couldn’t defy the Mountain Lord of Little Azure Mountain.

Chen Ji stroked Second Master Huang’s sleek fur. “Second Grandpa, has Xiangxiang woken up yet?”

[Not yet. Xiangxiang, he…] Second Master Huang paused, realizing he’d been led astray by Chen Ji’s constant calls of “Xiangxiang, Xiangxiang.” [These injuries won’t do too much damage to Grandpa White Tiger. He just needs a little time to recover from them.]

Chen Ji acknowledged him with a hum. He was a bit curious why Second Master Huang had pulled him out of the Mountain Lord Temple yesterday, but there wasn’t much point in asking—it felt like staying there longer would straight-up kill him.

He even suspected Xiangxiang hadn’t passed out from inheriting his injuries at all… It couldn’t be that It suddenly grew a conscience and realized harassing a man in his dreams was messed up and twisted, then just let him go, right?

Second Master Huang flipped over in Chen Ji’s arms, his tail tip brushing lightly across Chen Ji’s palm before he hopped down. He let out a yawn. [If there’s nothing going on, feel free to wander around. I’m off to catch some sleep~]

Chen Ji shifted direction, groping until he found the White Tiger’s tail. He followed it up to the body, feeling the faint breaths, lost in his own thoughts.

A long while passed before Chen Ji finally released the White Tiger. His eyes were blind, but that didn’t dampen his curiosity about the yellow weasels’ ancestral home. Plus, he’d been lying in bed for ages—he wanted to get up and stretch his legs.

The loss of his sight sharpened his other senses to an extraordinary degree. He felt his way off the bed, palms sliding along the edge in a full circle. That’s when he realized it wasn’t really a bed at all, but a nest—a thick, layered pile of clean pelts, seemingly made just for him.

The walls were rough earthen clods. Following them led him to the doorway. Suddenly, light footsteps approached, and a fluffy sensation pressed against his calf, brushing gently. Chen Ji slowly bent down, and a little yellow weasel jumped onto his hand. [Brother Chen, are your eyes still not better? I picked some goji berries for you—want to try some?]

It was Little Translator.

“Not yet.” Chen Ji wasn’t sure when they’d recover, but he figured it was temporary. He traced the tip of Little Translator’s muzzle with his fingertip, and Little Translator nuzzled his finger with his cheek, briefly rubbing his scent onto it.

[Brother Chen, let me take you out for some sun!] Little Translator said. Seeing Chen Ji nod, he hopped down from Chen Ji’s hand. He was about to shift into his full form to carry him out, but Chen Ji held him back. “No need. Just lead the way—I want to walk.”

Little Translator sounded puzzled. [Brother Chen, you sure? Let me take you out. The paths around home aren’t easy to navigate.]

Chen Ji smiled. “It’s fine. I’ll take it slow.”

Little Translator had no choice but to lead the way ahead, his tail hooking around Chen Ji’s calf to guide him. Chen Ji walked slowly but steadily and calmly, his gaze fixed straight ahead despite seeing nothing.

He was certain his blindness was temporary, but at the same time… not entirely.

Ever since Second Master Huang left, there had been a vague sense of light in his vision. It vanished when Second Master Huang departed, only to return with Little Translator’s arrival. Little Translator gave off that light sense too—not blurry or hazy, but a sharp outline in some other form.

Little Translator’s features, shadow, and even every single hair were etched clearly. Those lines shifted with his expressions, late into the evening… but they were also incredibly messy. Not every line clung to Little Translator; sometimes there were odd little dots scattered around. Chen Ji wasn’t sure what they were.

He called out, “Little Translator, hop up here.”

Little Translator halted, turning to climb up Chen Ji’s arm. Chen Ji pondered for a moment before reaching out to touch one of those strange dots. He had a light sense too—his was pale gray, different from Little Translator’s bright yellow. As his finger probed into the yellow dots, they all scattered away.

At the same time, his finger felt nothing solid.

Chen Ji understood now. These were probably Little Translator’s aura… or cultivation? Hard to say exactly, but something like that.

He might not have been able to make out Second Master Huang earlier because his aura was too overwhelming, filling the entire room.

Little Translator, thinking Chen Ji just wanted to pet him, obediently pushed his head into Chen Ji’s palm. Chen Ji pinched one of his ears between two fingers and rubbed firmly at the base. In a panic, Little Translator let out an “Eep!”, then desperately nuzzled Chen Ji’s palm.

Chen Ji stopped teasing him then. Seemed like feline critters all loved having their ear roots scratched.

Little Translator resumed leading the way, and along the path they passed over a dozen yellow weasels mingling together. To Chen Ji’s eyes, they were just a jumbled mass—impossible to tell apart. He remarked, “Your family’s huge.”

Little Translator chuckled sheepishly. [Brother Chen, most of the little ones are still sleeping. We don’t like going out during the day!]

“I see.” Chen Ji steadied himself against the dirt wall. Little Translator, eager to answer his curiosity, piped up. [When we first cultivate our full forms, we can’t retract them properly, so we expanded the house. Otherwise, bumping into things hurts!]

Chen Ji said, a touch puzzled, “Full forms can bump into walls too?”

Before Little Translator could respond, a gust of wind swept past. In Chen Ji’s vision, a fuzzy ball-like thing shot out from nowhere and slammed headfirst into the dirt wall ahead of him, flattening into a fuzzy pancake.

Chen Ji instinctively stepped back. The pancake lifted its head, revealing a fierce yellow weasel’s face—similar to when Second Master Huang had bared his teeth at him. It snarled, [What’s a human doing here?! Perfect, I could use a snack…]

The lines representing Little Translator shot up and delivered a spinning kick to the pancake. An “Ow!” echoed as the pancake turned into a streak of lightning and vanished from Chen Ji’s sight.

Little Translator seemed embarrassed, his voice stuttering. [B-Brother Chen, that’s… uh, how it is. Don’t mind them.]

When Chen Ji smiled, it was refined and kind. Little Translator peeked at him twice before dutifully leading him outside.

They finally emerged from the Leech Demon Cave. Chen Ji sensed a vast, milky-white glow ahead. In his simplified vision, it was grand and brilliant. He reached out to touch it, and warmth bloomed at his fingertips—the glow represented the sun.

Makes sense.

Little Translator found him a haystack to lounge on; the withered grass was outlined in grayish-white lines. Chen Ji sat down and squinted, his unfocused pupils drooping as he compared himself to the dead grass.

Both pale gray.

But the haystack’s gray was a stagnant, lifeless white, while his felt lighter, more ethereal—like mist. Not so oppressively dead, not so ashen.

—He didn’t have much time left.

The thought struck Chen Ji suddenly. He even pegged a timeline—not calculated, just something that popped into his mind naturally: about a year.

If things stayed like this, he’d die in a year. But with some recuperation, he might pull through.

How? No clue.

But he knew recuperation was possible. Find the right person or the right remedy.

Chen Ji shifted to a comfier position. Suddenly, his hand brushed something cold and slick. He froze, looking down. Dark-red lines outlined a humanoid shape, its tail pinned under his pinky. As he gripped it, the lines erupted into chaos.

It was like fireworks exploding—a riot of colors bursting into the dark red. Chen Ji felt trapped in a kaleidoscope, dazzled, until the dark-red lines coalesced back into a humanoid figure.

Chen Ji was pinching its tail.

His expression unchanging, he asked, “Second Master Huang?”

The figure—probably human-shaped—chuckled twice, voice raspy. [I’m not Second Grandpa Huang, pretty boy. Guess who I am?]

“Who are you?” Chen Ji asked obediently.

A hand landed on Chen Ji’s cheek, fuzzy with fur, trailing uncleanly along his jawline. [Heh heh, pretty, you’re gorgeous!]

Chen Ji smiled faintly. “And you are… which Great Immortal?”

[Heh heh, pretty, guess! If you do, I’ll let you…] Before it finished, Chen Ji seized the finger and yanked it down hard. A shrill scream pierced the air. [Ow—!]

[Ow, pretty, you’re feisty!] The Great Immortal tugged at Chen Ji’s arm.

Chen Ji tilted his head slightly. The neat lines in his vision scrambled for an instant. Unconsciously, he traced a stroke in the air. Brilliant lines flared at his fingertip, rapidly forming a wildly intricate talisman rune.

The golden-glowing rune hovered at his fingertips, igniting without wind and burning out in a flash. At the same moment, thunder boomed overhead. Bright sunlight vanished behind storm clouds, and faint multicolored lightning snakes threaded through the sky, flickering faintly.

“Boom—!”

Chen Ji watched as a massive lightning bolt crashed from the heavens, engulfing the humanoid figure before him. He didn’t so much as twitch, simply “watching” quietly.

There should be three more.

The System Cat, which had vanished for so long, suddenly came online:

[Holy shit, what’s going on?! Chen Ji, stop right now!]

[That’s Monkey, Chen Ji!!! National Class II!!!]


I Contracted This Mountain Peak

I Contracted This Mountain Peak

这座山头被我承包了
Status: Completed Native Language: Chinese

Chen Ji was a corporate drone trapped in the endless grind of a 996 job.

Ten years after his grandfather's passing, he found himself unexpectedly bound to the 8839 Cultural Relic Protection System. It forced him to quit his high-pressure job in the big city and return to his hometown, where he inherited an entire mountainside—and a crumbling Mountain God Temple.

The local villagers were tormented by mischievous spirits, but Chen Ji stuck doggedly to scientific principles. Gritting his teeth, he employed a few pseudoscientific tricks to bring peace to Little Azure Mountain and even managed to rebuild the dilapidated temple.

One villager rushed up to him in a panic. "Master Chen, save us! I think we've offended a Yellow Immortal—our chickens keep turning up dead, bitten to pieces!"

Chen Ji wiped a hand across his face and hauled out an iron cage. "When trouble hits, don't panic. First things first: let's set a weasel cage and catch the culprit."

Another villager arrived, face pale with fear. "Master Chen, our pig's possessed! It... it sings opera in the middle of the night!"

Chen Ji kept his composure. "Easy now—that's a good omen! Grandpa Mountain God has chosen your pig. Call the butcher today to slaughter it proper. Tomorrow, I'll set up the altar and offerings for Grandpa Mountain God. Once that's done, we'll all tuck into a proper pork feast!"

In the eyes of Little Azure Mountain's villagers, their new temple priest was a figure of profound mystery. Ever since he took charge, the Yellow Weasels had stopped terrorizing the coops, the rats quit their midnight dances around the houses, and the pigs no longer raved through the night like they were at a club. Peace and prosperity bloomed across the mountain.

Yet the very same Chen Ji, held in reverent awe by the villagers, now grappled with a fresh nightmare. He had personally added a touch of golden red to the corners of the Mountain God's eyes on the statue...

And with a sudden shimmer, those eyes snapped open.

This was a problem—a big one.

After racking his brain, Chen Ji pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

"Hello, 110? I've got something I need to turn over to the state."

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