Chapter 12

The first person Fu Juan saw was Jiang Yiguang. Her brows immediately furrowed deeply. She pursed her lips, her eyes shadowy and unreadable, betraying no emotion.

Wang Xuanming, on the other hand, stared fixedly at Xie Chaoyun. Goosebumps rose on his arms. The Ritual Bell in his bag, sensing the change in the “Qi,” was already clanging in an urgent, soul-harrowing ring. His body tensed; his clenched fists grew clammy with sweat.

“A Ghost King,” Wang Xuanming’s voice was very soft.

Fu Juan gave an “Mm,” then added, “She carries Dragon Qi and Meritorious Golden Light.”

“That’s strange,” Wang Xuanming muttered with a frown. He couldn’t help but glance at Xie Chaoyun again. This time, he got a clearer look at her face, and his heart lurched in shock. Instinctively, he moved to touch the painting he carried in his backpack. But as his fingers touched the zipper, he slowly pulled his hand back.

No need to look.

This woman looked exactly like the one in the painting.

No, not just the painting… also, also—

Fu Juan spoke calmly: “The tomb owner unearthed not long ago.”

Wang Xuanming smacked his head, finally remembering.

Before the ancient tomb’s female corpse turned to ash, that guy from the Zhao family had been quick-witted enough to snap a photo!

“That kid is still so reckless. How can you just photograph things like that?” Wang Xuanming muttered to himself.

A flicker of scorn crossed Fu Juan’s eyes. Ignoring the dazed Wang Xuanming, she propelled her wheelchair towards the teahouse, where the “Primordial Qi” fluctuation was most intense.

Xie Chaoyun’s smile deepened. Her gaze fell on Fu Juan’s legs, and she exclaimed in surprise, “Invaded by Ghost Fiend energy?”

Jiang Yiguang couldn’t control her own mouth. She heard her voice ask, “Can it still be cured?” Immediately after, she met Fu Juan’s icy, frost-like glare, and her scalp went numb. That state of separation between emotion and reason instantly vanished.

Fu Juan retracted her cold, piercing gaze and, looking at Xie Chaoyun, got straight to the point: “Is the Fox Immortal Temple connected to you?”

“Not connected,” Xie Chaoyun paused briefly. “But I can’t say it’s entirely unconnected.”

Fu Juan said flatly, “You know who it is?”

Xie Chaoyun sighed. “The Nine-Tailed Fox.”

“When virtue reaches the birds and beasts, then the fox has nine tails.” In High Antiquity, the Nine-Tailed Fox was an Auspicious Beast. But as the Age of Decline arrived, good and evil became chaotic and unclear. Those demons, devils, ghosts, and monsters that existed through belief gradually changed their faces, losing the ancient customs entirely. “Auspicious Beasts” were not necessarily good. A thousand-year ghost, a Nine-Tailed Fox—the Xuanzhen Dao Court’s threat assessment was clearly wrong. This was beyond their ability to handle.

Fu Juan asked again, “Do you know the Nine-Tailed Fox’s origin?”

Xie Chaoyun remained silent.

Jiang Yiguang, however, recalled the contents of the strange tales novel The Southern Travels of Zhenren Changming she had skimmed the night before. After a moment’s thought, she asked, “A fox demon from the Southern Qi palace?” Official histories wouldn’t record many details of the occult; if mentioned, it was only in a few strokes. But in the novel, that vague story could be completed—a fox demon entered the human world, like Daji confusing a king’s heart, causing the Southern Qi court to be debauched and chaotic, and was finally slain by Daoist Wang Changming, invited by Empress Wenzhao.

But Jiang Yiguang had always scoffed at such “calamitous beauty bringing ruin to the kingdom” stories.

Xie Chaoyun was silent for a long time before saying, “Yes.” Seeing Fu Juan’s silence, she added, “Actually, her nature wasn’t bad.”

A strange light flashed in Fu Juan’s eyes. Currently, she only looked at results; she didn’t believe in talk of “nature.” Her duty was to eradicate evil and defend the Dao. She glanced at Jiang Yiguang, who was resting her chin on her hand, and her inner astonishment grew. In the past, Jiang Yiguang rejected Daoist books and avoided tales of fox immortals, demons, and ghosts. But now, she could not only draw the True Form Chart of the Five Peaks but was even well-versed in strange matters from a thousand years ago.

What had caused such a big change in her?

Jiang Yiguang was very sensitive to gazes, especially Fu Juan’s. Meeting that person’s eyes for even a moment made her heart tremble. Her “affection” and “possessiveness” towards Fu Juan were simply too intense. If only she could immerse herself completely in it, but unfortunately, she felt a sense of discord, clearly aware of the strangeness, giving rise to an absurd feeling of “I am not me”! Silently reciting a few mind-calming scripture verses, she forced herself to sit up even straighter.

“The forum posts about the Fox Immortal Temple are spreading, affecting a significant number of people. If—” Fu Juan’s words were cut off by a sharp ringtone. Fu Juan frowned and turned to look at Wang Xuanming.

Wang Xuanming was startled by the sudden ring. The “Qi” fluctuation here was weak; the magnetic field hadn’t completely disordered, clearly indicating no malicious intent. His anxious heart slowly settled. He said “Sorry” and went to a corner to answer the call. But less than five minutes later, he returned with a grim face and said in a deep voice, “Something’s happened on Construction Street, east of Z University. We need to go check it out.” As his words fell, he cast a glance at the silently smiling Xie Chaoyun.

Fu Juan said flatly, “You go first.”

Wang Xuanming: “But—” Seeing Fu Juan’s brow furrow, he immediately swallowed his refusal. He knew Fu Juan disliked being contradicted.

Xie Chaoyun didn’t stop Wang Xuanming from leaving. Or rather, from the moment Wang Xuanming appeared, her gaze had barely touched him, as if he were just an insignificant passerby.

Fu Juan changed the subject: “You will need to go to the Xuanzhen Dao Court to register.”

Xie Chaoyun smiled upon hearing this. “I will go.” She paused, then added, “Before that, I need to buy a box of Peach Blossom Pastry. If you’re busy, you can leave first.”

Fu Juan responded with a cold “Mm.”

Naturally, it was best to avoid conflict with such a millennia-old great ghost.

She glanced sideways at Jiang Yiguang, who was looking down at her teacup, and suddenly asked, “Aren’t you planning to leave?”

When Jiang Yiguang heard the voice and looked up, there was still some confusion in her eyes, but she quickly came to her senses. Between the female ghost and Fu Juan, she would choose the latter without hesitation. At least, at this moment, Fu Juan had no “killing intent” towards her and wouldn’t suddenly become a ferocious ghost like the female ghost might.

Out of a sliver of gratitude towards Fu Juan, Jiang Yiguang grabbed the handles and pushed Fu Juan out of the teahouse. The warm sunlight fell on her. She looked back at the quietly composed Xie Chaoyun inside the teahouse and let out a long sigh of relief.

“Scared now?” Fu Juan’s voice was cold and clear.

Jiang Yiguang looked down, puzzled, and didn’t respond.

Fu Juan frowned, a flash of irritation in her eyes. She said with a dark face, “Didn’t I tell you to stay home for now?”

Jiang Yiguang disliked that tone and immediately retorted, “Does that mean she wouldn’t have come for me if I hadn’t gone out?” Upon hearing Fu Juan’s scoff, she thought for a moment and continued, “She entered my dream last night.”

Fu Juan turned her head and met Jiang Yiguang’s gaze.

Sunlight fell on her cold, pale skin, giving it a warm, jade-like luster—cool and aloof, yet ethereal.

Initially, Jiang Yiguang wanted to speak properly with Fu Juan, but those absurd thoughts in her mind kept bubbling up one by one. Her clear eyes couldn’t help but gain a trace of greed and desire, as if she wanted to press Fu Juan into her very bones and blood.

This was the kind of look Fu Juan hated most.

Under Jiang Yiguang’s gaze, she was no longer a person of flesh and blood, but an object to be taken and used at will.

Fu Juan tilted her head up slightly. The midday sun was a bit harsh, but she seemed unfazed. She gave Jiang Yiguang a smile, her words calm yet heartless: “If it weren’t for Aunt Jiang, I wouldn’t bother with you at all.”

Jiang Yiguang immediately fell from that floating, seven-jeweled tower built of fantasies. That feeling of unreality vanished, and in that instant, she grasped her true self.

She raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Fu Juan, you’re not my guardian. Save yourself the trouble.”

If the system could truly help her escape that sense of losing control, then pursuing the main quest was still very necessary.