Author Archives: Thandar

He remembered.

He remembered who he was and all that had happened before.

He went to the bottom of the lake and found the egg.

The soul inside had already emerged, and the egg had completely transformed.

The dull, unremarkable stone was gone, replaced by crystalline, split-in-half shards.

Within these two transparent, glimmering “eggshell” fragments, various colors of light flickered, shining with a radiant glow.

These were the last remaining traces of the ancient gods and demons.

Fuxi had not been wrong—he was indeed that thread of hope.

Because he had never emerged, had never been entangled in any karma, he alone had escaped the predetermined fate of the gods’ downfall.

And now, the backup plan was coming into play.

All choices were left to him.

Jiang Lin bent down and gently picked up the glowing “eggshell.”

A drop of blood essence, a fragment of a soul.

With just a thought, he could gradually bring them “back to life.”

The timing had also been predicted by these gods.

Now, in the apocalypse, this world was on the brink of destruction, and humanity was on the edge of collapse.

If they were to appear, take on the karma of “saving the world,” and gain the corresponding merit, all weakness would vanish, and the gods would be reborn on this earth.

His “companions” would be revived, and this planet would be saved from the shadow of the zombies.

Everything seemed so natural.

Jiang Lin lowered his gaze.

At this moment, he couldn’t reach anyone—no system, no Qingluo, no Zong Yu.

There was no one to offer advice, and certainly no one to make decisions for him.

He looked up at the sky, shrouded in gray haze, and asked softly, “Is it really that simple?”

He looked down at the “eggshell” in his hands, carrying the last remnants of countless gods’ lives, and asked, “Fuxi, Shaohao, what were you trying to tell me by having that ‘system’ lead me through those tasks?”

He closed his eyes, and suddenly, his hands clenched.

That light, yet unbearably heavy object shattered into countless pieces in Jiang Lin’s hands.

He opened his hands, letting the fragments drift away to the corners of the world.

At the same time, a faint glow appeared around Jiang Lin, as countless green light particles dispersed from his body, following those fragments to places unknown.

His face suddenly turned pale, and he collapsed, barely managing to keep himself from falling flat by propping his hands on the ground. The vast divine power within him dissipated entirely, leaving him completely drained.

“The world no longer needs gods,” he whispered.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his palm. He stared blankly at his hand, turning it over to find a small shard embedded in his palm. Blood quickly welled up from the wound.

A soft green light emerged from the shard, floating in the air and forming a familiar silhouette.

“Emperor Qing…” Jiang Lin gazed at him.

The refined man smiled gently, his eyes scanning the surroundings before he sighed softly, “So, the world has become like this now?”

His gaze drifted into the distance before returning to Jiang Lin.

He smiled warmly at Jiang Lin. “I’m glad to meet you in this form.”

Though he was merely a faint shadow hovering in the air, as if a breeze could disperse him, all the living vegetation in the area bowed in reverence to their god.

Jiang Lin, too weak to stand, simply sat down on the ground, looking up at him. “You went through all the trouble of hinting to me that the gods would eventually perish and that the future belongs to humans. Wasn’t this the outcome you wanted?”

Emperor Qing chuckled softly.

Jiang Lin asked, “Do you regret it?”

“I could revive you all. Even with just a fraction of your strength, these so-called zombies would be wiped out with a mere flick of a finger. With the merit from saving the world, it would be enough for you to regain your power and worship.”

“And then?” Emperor Qing countered. “Then repeat history, only to vanish once again in this world?”

Emperor Qing laughed lightly, “Do you think we, who have lived for millions of years, care about such a brief span of time?”

He looked down at Jiang Lin. “Didn’t you make the same choice, my companion? Or should I say, until this moment, the last… god in this world?”

“We are the same.”

What is a god?

In the beginning, they were a tree, a flower, a cloud, even a gust of wind.

They were part of this world, and because they gained consciousness, they became individual beings.

“We once sought immortality, to live as long as the heavens and earth. But Fuxi and I pondered for tens of thousands of years, what is immortality?” Emperor Qing smiled softly. “I am the vitality of this world, the spring that returns every year. Whether I have this body and am called Emperor Qing, or become a breeze without it, what difference does it make?”

His form gradually became transparent, on the verge of fading away.

“My friend, if someone is destined to inherit a bit of my power and will in the future, I hope that when I have the choice, I can pick someone pleasing to the eye.”

Jiang Lin realized something as the wound in his palm began to burn.

“You chose to become an ordinary person, but I think this desolate world still needs someone to save it.”

Emperor Qing’s figure had already disappeared, leaving only one final sentence in the void:

“We old guys are leaving first to enjoy some peace. It’s up to you, the ‘youngest’ among us, to take on a bit more responsibility.”

The green light from the fragment entered Jiang Lin’s body, slowly restoring his depleted strength.

Jiang Lin took a deep breath and smiled slightly. “I will not fail.”

On September 13th, the eighth year of the apocalypse, at the survivor base in the capital of Huaxia, a woman suddenly developed a high fever and fell into a coma. That night, a magnificent fiery red bird appeared in the sky, accompanied by roaring flames that illuminated the night. This woman, later renamed “Zhuque,” awoke with the power to control fire.

On the same night, in a small town in southern China, countless people witnessed a massive green dragon coiling in the sky, its roar shaking the heavens.

By the end of September, in the east, the figure of a white mythical beast appeared, stepping on light. A seven-year-old boy named Mumu gained the ability to purify viruses.

In October, in a barren desert base in the northwest, countless green shoots suddenly sprouted. An elderly, critically ill medical expert opened his eyes, full of vitality.

…

In the history of the planet, September 13th later became known as “New Birth Day.”

From that day forward, the first humans with extraordinary powers appeared on Earth. These individuals possessed incredible abilities described in myth and legend, and during battles, the figures of ancient gods would appear behind them. But they were not gods. They could be injured, age, and die. After their death, their powers would be inherited by an unknown “lucky” warrior.

These powerful warriors led the remaining human soldiers to eradicate all zombies. The crisis was averted, and humanity entered a new era.

“Grandpa, so are those ancient myths all true?” a little girl with pigtails asked, tilting her head.

Beside her, an elderly man with white hair chuckled and said, “It might be true. These gods and immortals, during times of peace, can’t be found anywhere. But when humanity was in the greatest danger, they were the ones who appeared and saved us.”

“Then can I ask the gods to give me a big bag of candy when I wake up?” the little girl asked expectantly. “The stories say that gods can grant our wishes.”

The old man laughed and shook his head. “That’s not how it works. The gods protect this world, but if we humans want something, we still have to work hard for it ourselves.”

He patted his granddaughter’s head. “Little girl, it’s time to go to bed!”

[End of Main Story]

xxx

Thandar: extra chapters will be password locked. Please find pws in TOC.

The Ji family entourage entered the Gu residence.

The Gu residence courtyard was lively today, with long open-air tables arranged neatly in rows and guests exchanging pleasantries everywhere. Gu Changzhou, dressed in an elegant silk robe, uncharacteristically stood in the courtyard to welcome the guests.

Master Ji, being well-acquainted with Gu Changzhou, quickly began chatting with him under the veranda. Meanwhile, Ji Zhifei, never one for socializing, waited alone in the courtyard.

“Young Master, was that person at the gate earlier Mr. Zhao Li?” a servant whispered to Ji Zhifei.

“It was,” Ji Zhifei replied indifferently.

The servant continued, “And the one next to him—wasn’t that the Gu family’s tutor, Qin Zhao, the one who won the Triple Top Scholar?”

“Most likely,” Ji Zhifei scoffed lightly. “I thought he’d be someone of note, but seeing him today, he’s nothing special.”

Since learning that Jing Li was acquainted with Gu Heng, Ji Zhifei had quickly investigated Jing Li’s background.

The spouse of the Gu family’s tutor.

This revelation had surprised Ji Zhifei somewhat but didn’t seem particularly unusual. Everyone knew that aside from his parents, the person Gu Heng respected most was his tutor, Mr. Qin. Standing up for his spouse was only natural.

However… compared to Ji Zhifei’s prior assumptions, this status was rather unimpressive.

Ji Zhifei sneered. “A mere tutor’s spouse, trying to act high and mighty…”

“Shall we… teach him a lesson?” the servant suggested, lowering his voice with a hint of malice.

Catching the undertone, Ji Zhifei smirked coldly. “What nonsense. This is the Gu family’s banquet, and we’re here to offer congratulations. How could we do something so uncivilized?”

The servant added, “But that Qin Zhao recently went to the magistrate to reopen the investigation into Shopkeeper Chang’s case. It’s probably his spouse’s doing, isn’t it?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

As they spoke, they saw the Gu family’s tutor leading his spouse into the residence hand-in-hand.

Ji Zhifei’s gaze landed on their clasped hands, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Does he think this will give him leverage over me? How naive.”

It was true that Chang Lao’er wasn’t killed by Shopkeeper Chang but by Ji Zhifei’s planning.

The perpetrator was an assassin Ji Zhifei had hired from the black market. The murder, disposal of the body, and framing of Shopkeeper Chang had been executed flawlessly. Shortly after the incident, the assassin, under Ji Zhifei’s orders, left the city, ensuring no loose ends remained.

No matter how thoroughly the authorities investigated, they would never trace it back to him.

Ji Zhifei hadn’t intended for the matter to escalate to this point.

From the very beginning, his goal had only been that deed.

He had paid Chang Lao’er to mortgage the bookstore to him, obtaining the deed smoothly. The matter should have ended there. Who could have predicted that Zhao Li would suddenly appear, even bringing Gu Heng to step in, humiliating him in public?

If he were to return the deed now, how could he ever hold his head up in the city again?

Returning the deed was out of the question.

Since he didn’t want to return it, the only option was to stir up trouble on Chang’s side first.

Ji Zhifei naturally thought of Chang Lao’er, whom he had hidden away.

However, what Ji Zhifei hadn’t expected was that the seemingly frail Zhao Li would have such courage, even going to the authorities to demand a reinvestigation of the case.

Though he wasn’t worried about his involvement being discovered, this action was undoubtedly a provocation to Ji Zhifei.

Thinking of this, Ji Zhifei’s lips curled into a subtle smile. “But you’re right—it does feel too easy to let him off like this.”

“Young… Young Master—”

Ji Zhifei ignored him and swaggered toward Qin Zhao and Jing Li.

“Isn’t this last year’s Triple Top Scholar, Mr. Qin?” Ji Zhifei blocked Qin Zhao’s path and said with a smile.

His voice wasn’t particularly loud, but it was enough to attract the attention of many.

Everyone invited today was someone of status in the city and had some connection to the Gu family. They all knew Qin Zhao as Gu Heng’s tutor—the key figure behind Gu Heng passing the county examination in his first year.

However, due to his frail health, Qin Zhao rarely made public appearances, so not many had seen him in person.

For a moment, many turned their heads, eager to see what this legendary Qin Zhao looked like.

But the person Ji Zhifei blocked merely inclined his head slightly and replied in a calm tone, “Who are you?”

His voice was steady, without the slightest ripple, as if the man before him wasn’t worth paying attention to.

The onlookers exchanged intrigued glances.

Master Ji was known for his swift and decisive ways in business and had earned Gu Changzhou’s trust. In the city, he had a certain reputation.

But his only son was nothing like him.

Ji Zhifei was notorious for his arrogance and flamboyance, and many secretly disliked him. They were more than happy to watch him embarrass himself.

Qin Zhao’s composure betrayed nothing, leaving it unclear whether his reaction was intentional. Ji Zhifei scrutinized him for a moment, suppressing his irritation, and forced a smile. “The name is Ji, of the Ji family that owns the Jiangling Silk Store. Hasn’t Mr. Qin heard of us?”

Qin Zhao let out a calm “Oh” and nodded. “A pleasure to meet you.”

Ji Zhifei: “…”

Jing Li lowered his head, barely suppressing a laugh, squeezing Qin Zhao’s fingers tightly.

Qin Zhao glanced back at him.

Ji Zhifei could no longer ignore the obvious—this man was doing it on purpose. Still, he didn’t show his displeasure. Instead, he smiled and said, “It’s understandable. Mr. Qin doesn’t go out much. With more interactions in the future, you’ll naturally become familiar with us.”

Before Qin Zhao could respond, Ji Zhifei shifted his gaze to Jing Li. “By the way, a few days ago, your husband was at the gambling house having fun with me. What’s this? He didn’t mention it to you?”

Qin Zhao’s eyes darkened slightly.

Noticing the change, Ji Zhifei’s smile deepened. “Your husband, I must say, is quite remarkable. He cleaned me out at the gambling table—it seems he must dabble in these things often, doesn’t he?”

At first, Jing Li didn’t catch the underlying malice in Ji Zhifei’s words. But as he became aware of the growing number of curious and scrutinizing gazes around him, he realized something was wrong.

To Jing Li, going out for some fun wasn’t a big deal. After that day, he hadn’t given it a second thought.

But he’d forgotten how particular this era was.

In the eyes of others, he was a shuang’er husband. Sneaking out to a gambling house with another man without his spouse’s knowledge could easily lead to scandalous rumors. The consequences for Qin Zhao’s reputation in the city would be disastrous.

For a moment, Jing Li was at a loss for how to respond.

He could feel the strange gazes directed at him—mocking, surprised, disdainful.

This was likely the first time Jing Li had directly faced the era’s prejudice against shuang’ers. Compared to watching Ah Yi’s struggles from the sidelines, experiencing it himself sent chills down his spine.

The discomfort was overwhelming, and perhaps sensing this, Qin Zhao gently squeezed his hand.

Then, Jing Li heard Qin Zhao chuckle lightly and say, “Thank you for the compliment. I taught him.”

Ji Zhifei’s expression froze for a moment.

His intention had clearly been to tarnish Jing Li’s reputation.

Initially, he had only been intrigued by the boy’s striking appearance. But after being provoked several times, he genuinely wanted to put Jing Li in his place.

What Ji Zhifei hadn’t anticipated was how fiercely protective Qin Zhao would be, to the point of sacrificing his own reputation.

The young man before him was delicate, handsome, and pale, exuding a frail air as if he had just recovered from a serious illness.

Yet, despite his appearance, there wasn’t a hint of weakness in his demeanor. Ji Zhifei even felt as though this man’s presence overshadowed his own.

No wonder Zhao Li was so taken with him.

Ji Zhifei ground his teeth lightly, not even noticing his slight loss of composure. “I thought someone as well-read as you, Mr. Qin, would stay far away from such troublesome places. But it seems… you are indeed an extraordinary person.”

“That’s quite a mistaken view,” Qin Zhao replied calmly. “Gambling games originated with the royal family before spreading among the commoners. Even today, nobles in the capital still enjoy them. Are you suggesting, Young Master Ji, that they all lack judgment and discernment?”

“You—”

“Mr. Qin, you’re finally here!” A loud call interrupted Ji Zhifei’s retort. Not far away, Gu Heng approached quickly and said to Qin Zhao, “We’ve been waiting for you for ages. Don’t stand here in the courtyard catching the wind; come inside with me.”

Gu Heng’s arrival was perfectly timed, and with this interruption, Ji Zhifei couldn’t continue pressing the issue.

Moreover, Gu Heng’s booming voice caught the attention of Gu Changzhou, who was chatting with friends under the veranda. Noticing Qin Zhao’s arrival, Gu Changzhou immediately found an excuse to leave his group and stepped forward to greet him.

“Mr. Qin is here,” Gu Changzhou said warmly. “You’re not in the best health—please, come inside and sit.”

Ji Zhifei’s expression darkened further.

The Gu family’s banquet had invited many guests, so they had arranged the feast in the courtyard with open-air seating. However, a single table was set up in the main hall as the guest of honor’s seat.

Even the Ji family didn’t have the privilege of sitting there.

Why should this Qin Zhao?

Ji Zhifei’s gaze turned cold and dark, but he didn’t dare act rashly in front of Master Gu. He could only watch helplessly as Qin Zhao was personally escorted into the main hall.

Inside the hall, several people were already seated.

Aside from Madam Gu, the Prefect of Jiangling and his wife were also present.

The two women were chatting amiably, but the Prefect’s face turned noticeably sour the moment Qin Zhao entered.

Qin Zhao seemed unfazed, bowing slightly to the Prefect. “Greetings, Prefect.”

The Prefect responded curtly with a gruff “Hmm.”

“Come on now, Yue Xiong,” Gu Changzhou intervened to smooth things over. “Don’t hold a grudge. This is just a family gathering—no formalities here. Let’s all sit down.”

Qin Zhao led Jing Li to a seat.

Gu Changzhou quickly found a way to redirect the Prefect’s attention elsewhere, giving Jing Li the chance to quietly ask Gu Heng, who sat beside him, “What’s wrong with the Prefect?”

“Didn’t Mr. Qin go to file a formal complaint a few days ago?” Gu Heng whispered back. “The Prefect sent people to reexamine the crime scene and the bookstore, and it turns out they really found some new clues. But even with those, they haven’t caught the culprit yet. I heard the yamen has been working nonstop for days, and the Prefect’s hair loss has been terrible!”

Jing Li blinked. “Isn’t that his job?”

“True enough,” Gu Heng replied in a hushed tone, glancing toward the Prefect. “But he’s always prided himself on never mishandling a case. If it weren’t for Mr. Qin stepping in, he would’ve wrongfully convicted an innocent man. He’s been stewing over it these past few days.”

“…Middle-aged men, I guess. Too much pride.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Gu Heng received a light knock on the head from Qin Zhao, who leaned past Jing Li to deliver it. “Mind your words and actions,” Qin Zhao said.

Gu Heng instantly deflated and shut his mouth obediently.

The banquet ended on a cheerful note, with both hosts and guests enjoying themselves.

The delicious meal quickly made Jing Li forget the earlier unpleasantness. When Madam Gu noticed his fondness for a particular dish—soft white peach cake—she even instructed the kitchen to prepare an extra portion for him to take home.

Rubbing his now-full stomach, Jing Li carried the carefully packed peach cakes and walked out of the Gu residence.

The carriage assigned to them by the Gu family was waiting at the entrance.

By now, some time had passed since the banquet concluded. The street outside the Gu residence was mostly deserted, as most of the carriages from other households had already departed. Only a few remained scattered near the entrance.

Not far away, the Ji family’s carriage was still parked there as well.

Jing Li glanced over, puzzled.

Had Ji Zhifei not left yet?

“Be careful, Madam Qin.” A servant from the Gu residence helped Jing Li into the carriage and asked, “Is Mr. Qin not coming out yet?”

Jing Li replied, “He said he needed to discuss something with Master Gu. He’ll be out shortly.”

Most likely, Qin Zhao was talking about continuing to tutor Gu Heng.

Jing Li and Qin Zhao had discussed this matter privately.

In Jing Li’s opinion, since Gu Heng had successfully passed the county examination, Qin Zhao’s contribution had been significant. It was the right time to ask their employer for a raise.

After all, ever since Gu Heng’s success, many students had been coming to their door, hoping to study under Qin Zhao.

His value was no longer what it used to be.

However… was today really the right time to bring this up?

Jing Li couldn’t help feeling uneasy.

Today was a joyous occasion for the Gu family, and Master Gu had clearly been in high spirits throughout the evening. Bringing up such matters now might dampen the mood.

Would Master Gu be displeased?

Lifting the curtain of the carriage, Jing Li peeked toward the brightly lit Gu residence, anxiously contemplating.

The carriage the Gu family had arranged for them was far more luxurious than those typically seen. It was lined with thick plush rugs and warmed by a stove, making it both cozy and comfortable.

Jing Li rubbed his eyes and, before long, dozed off in the corner of the carriage.

By now, most of the guests had left the Gu residence, but Ji Zhifei was being led deeper into the estate.

“This direction leads to Master Gu’s study, doesn’t it?” Ji Zhifei asked. “What does Master Gu want from me?”

The servant replied, “I don’t know.”

Ji Zhifei clicked his tongue in annoyance.

He and his father had been ready to take their leave over an incense stick’s time ago, but instead of letting them go, they’d been made to wait in the front courtyard for what felt like ages. And now, this mysterious detour—what exactly were they planning?

Could it be that Master Gu also wanted to stand up for that Qin fellow?

The thought flickered briefly in Ji Zhifei’s mind before he dismissed it outright.

Impossible.

It made sense for Gu Heng to feel indebted to Qin Zhao, but Master Gu? A man of such standing—controlling Jiangling’s textile industry, a royal merchant, and someone even the Prefect wouldn’t dare cross—why would he trouble himself over a poor scholar?

The very idea was absurd.

But if it wasn’t about that, then why did Master Gu want to meet him alone?

Ji Zhifei couldn’t figure it out, nor did he have the chance to dwell on it further, as the servant came to a halt.

The servant knocked on the door of the study and said, “Master, Young Master Ji has arrived.”

A voice answered from inside, “Let him in.”

The servant opened the door but immediately stepped aside, bowing his head and avoiding even a glance into the room.

Ji Zhifei’s unease deepened as he stepped inside.

The study was sparsely furnished, divided into an inner and outer chamber. A faint scent of tea lingered in the air, but the outer chamber was empty.

Rounding the curtain, Ji Zhifei first saw a meticulously organized bookshelf directly opposite the entrance. Then, his gaze fell on the man seated at the desk.

Qin Zhao turned a page of the book he was reading, while beside him, Gu Changzhou poured tea into his cup with his own hands.

Ji Zhifei didn’t immediately grasp the significance of this gesture, but an instinctive chill crept up his spine.

Qin Zhao picked up the teacup at his side, took a slow sip, and then raised his head.

“Young Master Ji,” he said evenly, “I’m the one who wanted to see you.”

Ahead was a group of three people, who appeared much more weathered and downcast compared to Anjia’s four-person team that had been following the mysterious figure and enjoying relative safety and ease. When the three saw Anjia’s group, a hint of joy flashed across their faces—encountering other people in these times was always a relief, especially when the other group looked as healthy and well-off as Anjia’s did.

In this post-apocalyptic world, how well you were doing was directly related to your strength.

As the two groups met, the three on the other side were eager to greet and make conversation. Just as Anjia was about to respond, a figure suddenly appeared in front of her.

She was startled: The big guy?

The big guy usually kept a low profile while they traveled, only appearing when they were resting. Why did he suddenly show up now?

While Anjia was puzzled, the three on the other side were terrified. They stared in shock at Jiang Lin, who had appeared out of nowhere and whose demeanor clearly didn’t match the desolate surroundings. They were so taken aback that they didn’t dare to speak.

Jiang Lin’s gaze was fixed on the young man at the back of the three-person group. The man still had handsome features, but his face was sallow, his expression listless, and his appearance unkempt, showing signs of neglect.

His former… appearance?

Jiang Lin thought, confused: What was he like before? Have I seen him before?

He blocked the three men, his gaze calm but with an overwhelming pressure that made them too afraid to speak.

The first two men were puzzled, but the third man, the one being stared at by Jiang Lin, showed sudden terror in his eyes as soon as he saw him.

Xue Nan silently opened his mouth wide: This person…

How could he look so much like him?

Like the man he had seen in his nightmares every night for the past two years.

Their features were somewhat different—this man was more handsome, and his attire was strange. But the aura of natural aloofness was hauntingly familiar.

But it couldn’t be.

Jiang Lin had died long ago; he had personally pushed him into the horde of zombies and watched him die.

There was no way he could have survived.

His terrified expression only piqued Jiang Lin’s interest further.

That look, that expression…

Fragments of memories in Jiang Lin’s mind began to rapidly piece together, and some of the blurry details started to become clear.

He opened his mouth: “You…”

His voice was rough and broken, as if he hadn’t spoken in a long time. But after uttering the first word, the unfamiliarity vanished, and the rest of the words flowed out smoothly.

The man opposite him turned completely pale.

“…Xue Nan?”

These two words seemed to be the key that unlocked a mysterious switch. All the chaotic, blurry, and unclear memories surged up like a tidal wave in an instant. Countless shadows and bizarre scenes flickered in Jiang Lin’s once-confused eyes, eventually settling into calmness.

His eyes regained their tranquility, and as he looked at the pale-faced man again, the words that came out of his mouth were no longer hesitant, and his confusion had turned into certainty:

“Xue Nan.”

The four members of Anjia’s team were stunned by the strange atmosphere, and Jiang Lin’s sudden speech startled them even more.

“So, the big guy can actually talk,” one of the survivors whispered.

Xue Nan stared at Jiang Lin in shock. When Jiang Lin spoke, Xue Nan was certain that this person was indeed Jiang Lin. But how could it be?

He had seen Jiang Lin being devoured by zombies with his own eyes. How could anyone survive that?

It was impossible.

But as he faced this man, what welled up inside him was a deep, genuine fear.

He was terrified.

Why had Jiang Lin returned?

Was he here for revenge?

“Xue Nan?” One of his teammates, puzzled by the scene, noticed something amiss and asked, “Do you know this… person?”

They didn’t know how to address Jiang Lin, but his mysterious and imposing appearance was enough to prove his power. Not to mention…

As they observed Jiang Lin, they noticed everything from his waist-length hair, which was smooth and well-groomed, to his spotless, immaculately clean robe…

Everything about this man exuded strength.

What kind of person could maintain such impeccable appearance even in the apocalypse?

Xue Nan was trembling.

Even though Jiang Lin had not spoken harshly, nor shown any hostility or intent to kill, being looked at by those calm eyes filled Xue Nan with an unprecedented fear.

And the despair he felt deep down was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Under those eyes, the words he was so skilled at—smooth lies and excuses—were now impossible to utter.

He took a step back, suddenly shaking his head. “I don’t know him! How could I know him?”

He was breathing heavily, staring directly at Jiang Lin. “How could I possibly know a dead man?”

“You’re not Jiang Lin; you’re someone else, pretending to look like this to scare me, aren’t you?”

Jiang Lin looked at him calmly.

Once, he had poured his heart out to this friend, only to be pushed into a horde of zombies. He had once hated him to the core, with his greatest desire being to exact revenge personally. But now, as he looked at this person, his heart was eerily calm. It was as if those deep-seated hatreds had passed through countless worlds and had become distant, weightless black-and-white images, unable to stir any emotion in him anymore.

And indeed… it had been countless worlds ago.

“I am Jiang Lin.”

“Xue Nan, I didn’t die. Now, it’s your turn to die.”

He spoke to him without any trace of emotion, even when uttering such words.

His reaction seemed to provoke Xue Nan even more, causing him to become more agitated than when he learned Jiang Lin was still alive.

“Ha! Have you become a saint? I fucking killed you, pushed you into a zombie horde!” Xue Nan suddenly became frantic, staring intently at Jiang Lin. “And you don’t hate me? You’re seeking revenge with such indifference?”

“Am I, Xue Nan, not even worthy of provoking any emotion from you?”

Jiang Lin frowned slightly, sensing the intensity of Xue Nan’s emotions. “What are you getting so worked up about? Upset with my reaction? Disappointed that I’m so indifferent to you?”

He looked at Xue Nan, his gaze piercing through the man, revealing things Jiang Lin hadn’t understood before.

But none of it mattered to him anymore.

Suddenly, countless thorny vines sprouted from the ground, like menacing instruments of torture, binding Xue Nan tightly with no room for resistance and dragging him violently into the earth.

—He didn’t even have time to scream.

The ground returned to its original state, as if nothing had happened.

Except that one person was now gone.

Everyone else took a collective step back, looking at Jiang Lin in terror.

Such a terrifying, mysterious display…

But Jiang Lin paid them no attention.

In a flash, he returned to the lake where he had awakened.

“Do we really have to do this?”

An incense stick later, Jing Li’s eyes were slightly red as he gently tugged on Qin Zhao’s finger. “Can’t we stop meddling in these matters?”

It was nearing noon, and the street wasn’t exactly empty, but most of the people hurrying along were busy citizens, with few stopping to linger amidst the occasional commotion.

However, one particular building stood out on the street—a solemn and imposing mansion.

The Jiangling Prefecture Office.

“What’s wrong?” Qin Zhao raised his hand to wipe a trace of moisture from the corner of Jing Li’s eye and smiled faintly. “Are you scared?”

“I…” Jing Li glanced across the street and hesitated. “I just feel… there’s no need to bring trouble upon ourselves.”

Qin Zhao replied, “Do you not believe that Boss Chang has been wrongfully accused? Murder cases are no trivial matter. Without concrete evidence, the authorities wouldn’t so easily arrest someone and throw them in prison. Right now, besides us, there’s no one else who can overturn his conviction. If we do nothing, his fate will only be to die unjustly.”

“But we don’t have any evidence,” Jing Li said. “Everything we have is just speculation. What if he really did commit the crime…”

“Whether he did or didn’t, we’ll find out by investigating.”

“But…”

“Xiaoyu, are you treating me like an outsider?” Qin Zhao asked softly.

“Ah?” Jing Li quickly shook his head. “Of course not! I… I just…”

“But you keep worrying that you’ll be causing me trouble,” Qin Zhao said. “By that logic, with my illness recurring over the past few months, and you managing both the household and earning money outside, wouldn’t that mean I’ve been troubling you all this time?”

Jing Li was taken aback. “I never thought…”

He had never felt that Qin Zhao was a burden to him. Falling ill wasn’t Qin Zhao’s fault.

“I’ve never thought of you as a burden either,” Qin Zhao interrupted. “Besides, none of this is your fault.”

Jing Li pursed his lips and lowered his head. “It’s my fault.”

If he hadn’t been unable to resist getting involved in the matter at the beginning, he wouldn’t have made a wager with Ji Zhifei, and none of the subsequent events would have happened.

Qin Zhao sighed silently and took Jing Li’s hand, leading him across the street.

The gates of the prefectural office stood wide open, with two bailiffs stationed on either side.

Qin Zhao was now quite well-known in the prefectural office. The two bailiffs guarding the gate recognized him immediately and stepped forward. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Qin. What brings you to the prefectural office today?”

Qin Zhao returned the greeting with a bow, pointed to the large drum standing in front of the gates, and said calmly, “To strike the Drum of Justice.”

The large drum set up in front of the office was called the Drum of Justice. It was placed there for the public to use when seeking justice from the authorities. Once the drum was struck, regardless of the reason, the court was required to hold a hearing and resolve the case. This was a rule established by the late emperor.

Even if the person seeking justice was an ordinary citizen, the bailiffs wouldn’t dare dismiss them. And in this case, it was none other than the highly regarded Mr. Qin standing before them.

The two bailiffs exchanged a glance and quickly stepped aside, allowing Qin Zhao and Jing Li to approach the Drum of Justice.

Qin Zhao picked up the mallet and struck the drum with force.

The stillness of the street was immediately shattered.

The deep, steady sound of the drum echoed, each beat resonating in the hearts of those who heard it.

Passersby instinctively paused, and within moments, a small crowd of onlookers had gathered. After more than ten strikes, several bailiffs emerged in a line. The leading bailiff called out loudly, “Who is striking the Drum of Justice?”

Qin Zhao set down the mallet, turned around, and bowed slightly. “I am Qin Zhao.”

“Qin Zhao?!”

“Is it the same Qin Zhao who achieved Triple Top Scholar?”

“No way. Could it just be someone with the same name?”

…

The surrounding citizens erupted into whispers and speculation.

The lead bailiff was the same one who had delivered the Triple Top Scholar congratulatory notice to Qin Zhao previously. He momentarily froze in surprise upon seeing Qin Zhao, then quickly recovered. “So it is Mr. Qin. The prefect is currently waiting in the main hall. Please, follow me.”

Qin Zhao turned to Jing Li and said, “You should wait outside.”

“No.” Jing Li immediately refused without hesitation.

It was Jing Li’s first time facing such a formal and intimidating situation, and though his heart trembled with unease, he couldn’t let Qin Zhao face it alone. After all, Qin Zhao was only here because of him.

In a soft voice, Jing Li added, “I’m not afraid. I’ll go in with you.”

Qin Zhao smiled. “Alright.”

The two followed the bailiffs into the main hall.

The prefect, already seated in his high-backed chair, looked over at the approaching figures. Seeing who it was, he exclaimed in surprise, “Qin Zhao?”

Qin Zhao led Jing Li forward and stopped before the hall, bowing deeply to the prefect. “Greetings, Your Excellency.”

The atmosphere in the government office was heavy and oppressive. Those who stepped inside often did so with trembling steps and lowered heads, overwhelmed by fear. Yet, despite the weight of the moment, Qin Zhao displayed no trace of apprehension. His demeanor was calm and poised, exuding a natural grace and confidence.

The prefect couldn’t help but feel a growing admiration for Qin Zhao.

He had long held the young man in high regard.

When Qin Zhao achieved the prestigious Triple Top Scholar distinction, the prefect had entertained thoughts of recruiting him into the office. However, Qin Zhao had politely declined, citing preparations for further examinations as his reason.

Even now, the prefect often recalled the rejection with a sense of regret.

But he understood that Qin Zhao’s refusal wasn’t merely a polite evasion. It was also a message—Qin Zhao aspired to far more than a minor position in the prefectural office.

Qin Zhao’s ambitions clearly extended far beyond the small confines of this city. What he sought lay in the capital, where power and influence reigned.

Moreover, the prefect never doubted Qin Zhao’s capability.

Whether in talent or conduct, there wasn’t a single flaw to be found in him. Having served in office for many years, the prefect could discern at a glance that Qin Zhao was destined for a brilliant future.

Of course, the prefect, being an upright and impartial official, would not show Qin Zhao any favoritism despite his admiration and high regard for him.

Clearing his throat, the prefect struck the gavel and asked, “You just struck the Drum of Justice outside the yamen. Is there a grievance you wish to report?”

“Indeed,” Qin Zhao replied. “I’ve heard that the yamen detained a murder suspect yesterday, the proprietor of Jing’an Bookshop, Mr. Chang.”

The prefect recalled the name and turned to his clerk seated nearby. “Look up the case.”

The clerk quickly flipped through the files on the desk and reported, “Your Excellency, this case does exist. The day before yesterday, the authorities received a report of a male corpse discovered in the outskirts of the city, identified as the younger brother of Mr. Chang of Jing’an Bookshop. Upon investigation, witnesses stated they saw Mr. Chang leave the city the day before yesterday, heading toward the area where the body was found. Furthermore, a murder weapon and bloodstains were discovered at Jing’an Bookshop. With both witnesses and evidence, the case was concluded yesterday.”

The prefect frowned. “Is he a relative of yours?”

“No.”

“Then why do you concern yourself with him?”

Qin Zhao countered, “Anyone may strike the Drum of Justice to report an injustice. What law forbids me from seeking redress on behalf of another?”

“Well, that’s true…” The prefect was momentarily at a loss for words but then asked, “Do you intend to overturn this case?”

Qin Zhao replied, “I merely find the case suspicious and hope Your Excellency will agree to reopen it for investigation.”

With Jiangling being a populous city, cases of people striking the Drum of Justice weren’t uncommon. However, someone pleading for justice on another’s behalf was a first for the prefect, leaving him somewhat puzzled.

Has this man taken leave of his senses today?

Qin Zhao asked again, “Is that not possible?”

“It’s not impossible,” the prefect conceded. “But do you have any evidence to prove he was wrongfully accused?”

“I do not.”

“…”

At that, the prefect discarded all earlier thoughts of showing no favoritism. He knew that if the person standing before him weren’t Qin Zhao, he would have already dismissed them outright.

“Then what makes you think he’s been wronged?” The prefect’s patience was beginning to wane, though he maintained his composure. “Mr. Qin, I’ve always considered you a reasonable man. Yet here you stand in court accusing me of mishandling a case without presenting any evidence. How can you expect me to believe you? Or for the citizens to trust my judgment?”

“I can agree to reopen the case,” the prefect continued, “but if no evidence emerges to prove Mr. Chang’s innocence, how will you explain yourself then?”

Qin Zhao asked, “What does Your Excellency want to do?”

The prefect’s face turned red with anger. He stiffened his neck and declared, “Then I will sentence you for disrupting the court!”

Jing Li’s gaze wavered with unease.

The consequences were so severe.

He quietly tugged at Qin Zhao’s sleeve and whispered, “Maybe we should just drop it… We can go look for evidence first. If we can prove Mr. Chang’s innocence, we can come back later…”

“It’s too late,” Qin Zhao shook his head. “The case was closed yesterday. If we wait until we gather evidence, Mr. Chang will likely be executed by then.”

Qin Zhao gently squeezed Jing Li’s hand to reassure him and then addressed the prefect, “We leave it entirely to Your Excellency’s decision.”

…

When they exited the yamen, Jing Li was still in a daze.

Qin Zhao waved a hand in front of him. “What are you thinking about? Let’s go home.”

“Home?” Jing Li asked, startled. “We’re… we’re just going home?”

Qin Zhao countered, “The complaint has already been lodged. Where else can we go?”

Jing Li blinked in confusion.

He thought they should immediately investigate, perhaps by visiting the crime scene to search for clues or at least examining the body for evidence.

But Qin Zhao had only come to the yamen to file a report?

On the way back, Jing Li, still dazed, voiced his thoughts aloud. Qin Zhao chuckled helplessly. “Those are matters for the prefect to worry about, not us. Besides…”

“Besides what?”

“Do you really think I’m capable of everything?” Qin Zhao gave him an exasperated look.

His little husband seemed to think he was all-powerful, though he couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Qin Zhao was skilled at many things, but investigating murders and examining corpses? That was entirely beyond him. Where had this little one gotten the idea that he could solve such cases?

Jing Li, realizing his own error, lowered his head and muttered softly, “I was misled by mystery stories…”

Qin Zhao raised a brow. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Jing Li quickly changed the subject. “So what do we do next? Just sit and wait?”

“Of course not,” Qin Zhao replied. “The Jiangling prefect is upright and fair. He’s not the kind to easily wrong a citizen. If he has determined Mr. Chang is guilty of murder, it means that, at least from his perspective, there shouldn’t be any major inconsistencies in the case.”

Jing Li was momentarily confused. “So you think Mr. Chang isn’t innocent?”

“No,” Qin Zhao clarified. “What I mean is that if this is a wrongful conviction, it’s likely a very well-orchestrated one.”

That was precisely why Qin Zhao sought the help of the authorities.

A premeditated setup of this scale couldn’t be overturned by the efforts of just one or two people.

“Anyway, put your worries to rest,” Qin Zhao said. “If your husband can’t handle such a small matter, wouldn’t that make him utterly useless?”

“I’m not worried about that,” Jing Li hesitated before continuing, “I just… I just don’t want this to drag you into trouble. You don’t even know Mr. Chang…”

Besides, even Gu Heng was reluctant to get involved in this matter for fear of being implicated.

How could this be considered a small matter?

“But he’s the benefactor of my husband,” Qin Zhao suddenly thought of something, halting his steps. “Now that I think about it, we should head to the bookstore in the southern part of the city. I wonder if they still have a copy of Dream Note. I haven’t read it yet.”

“No, no, no, that’s not necessary!”

Jing Li had initially thought this issue would be resolved quickly. But after their visit to the yamen, several days passed without any updates.

Even Qin Zhao didn’t bring up the matter again.

Meanwhile, Gu Heng successfully passed the county examination. On the third day after the results were posted, the Gu family hosted a grand banquet, inviting all the notable figures in the city.

Naturally, Qin Zhao and Jing Li were among the guests.

As the sun began to set, a carriage from the Gu family arrived to pick them up. Just as the two stepped down from the carriage, another carriage pulled up nearby.

A Gu family servant approached the new arrival. “Master Ji, Young Master Ji, we’ve been expecting you both.”

Jing Li froze mid-step.

Noticing his reaction, Qin Zhao turned his gaze toward the other carriage. It stopped not far from them, and an older gentleman stepped out first, followed by a tall, slender young man.

Ji Zhifei jumped down from the carriage. His expression froze momentarily upon seeing Jing Li and Qin Zhao standing at the Gu family’s entrance. However, his demeanor quickly shifted. Smirking lazily, he shot a glance at Jing Li before turning to follow Master Ji into the estate.

“That’s Ji Zhifei?” Qin Zhao asked.

Jing Li had already told Qin Zhao everything about what had happened days ago. Though Qin Zhao had never met Ji Zhifei in person, Jing Li’s reaction confirmed his suspicions.

Qin Zhao’s usual gentle demeanor was replaced with a tone laced with unmistakable disdain and coldness.

Jing Li had never seen Qin Zhao display such an attitude toward anyone before.

He took Qin Zhao’s hand and whispered, “Forget him. But remember, this is Lord Gu’s banquet tonight, so don’t…”

“Don’t worry,” Qin Zhao interrupted with a faint smile, his voice calm and composed. “I won’t do anything—at least not tonight.”

Crack, snap.

A sound of something breaking echoed.

This place was once a famous tourist destination, with a high altitude and few people around. Because of this, even though the outside world had long since become chaotic and bloodstained due to the apocalypse, this place remained peaceful and serene.

A team of four survivors, after a long and arduous journey, finally reached this location.

“Ah, we should be able to relax a bit here,” said the leader, a young man with slightly long hair, wearing a black jacket. He sighed in relief as he sat down. He took a small pack of biscuits from his bag and pulled out a fist-sized black device, dipping it into the lake in front of him.

Before the apocalypse, this lake was once hailed as the jewel of the planet, the mirror of the sky. Even now, it still looked beautiful.

“Beep.”

The device emitted a beep, flashing a green light.

“Boss, this water isn’t polluted!” The man shouted excitedly, immediately bending down to scoop up some water with his hands, gulping it down without hesitation.

The other three were overjoyed upon hearing this and quickly joined in to drink the water.

Just then, the device they had placed aside to test the water suddenly started beeping rapidly, flashing a yellow light.

The yellow light, initially faint like a firefly, grew in intensity at a speed visible to the naked eye, becoming blindingly bright.

“What’s going on…?” someone muttered. “Is this device broken?”

This device was something invented after the apocalypse, capable of quickly analyzing the composition of any liquid, especially detecting whether water had been contaminated by the virus.

The green light indicated that the water was safe to drink. As for the yellow light…

This generally neutral color on the device represented energy. The stronger the light, the more intense the energy detected.

In just a short moment, the yellow light had intensified to nearly a blinding white.

The one referred to as “boss” was a short-haired woman with a stern expression and a curved blade strapped to her waist.

She commanded in a low voice, “Something’s wrong. Move back, get away from the lake.”

Her authority was clearly absolute within the group. Without hesitation, the four of them grabbed their bags and began to retreat.

They had only taken a couple of steps when the calm lake suddenly started rippling on its own.

“Find cover!” The four quickly hid behind whatever shelter they could find, their eyes fixed on the unnatural disturbance in the lake.

The movement of the water grew more intense, eventually forming a whirlpool at the center.

The four held their breath, gripping their weapons tightly as they watched the bizarre scene unfold.

Then, they all widened their eyes in shock—

A person emerged from the water!

Not in the way someone would surface while swimming, but rather, in an entirely illogical manner, slowly rising from the center of the whirlpool.

It was like something out of a movie.

Even more unbelievable, the person had waist-length hair, was dressed in long robes completely out of sync with current styles, and, most strikingly, had a face that was…

If one were to say that any specific feature of his face was particularly striking, that wouldn’t be quite accurate. However, he had a look that, upon a single glance and then another, was undeniably captivating—so much so that it was impossible to ignore or refute his attractiveness. His appearance, his entrance—it all seemed far too otherworldly to belong to a mere mortal.

A god? A water deity? A mountain spirit? Such absurd thoughts crossed the minds of the four.

But as for the person in question, Jiang Lin, his mind was in a haze.

He had finally emerged from that stone egg.

His soul had been alone for far too long, and the memories in his mind were scattered fragments, drifting chaotically, unable to come together all at once.

There were people here.

His gaze swept across the area, piercing through the cover, and fixed on the four individuals.

The four of them, unaware that they had already been discovered, remained hidden, holding their breath.

Jiang Lin frowned slightly, trying to speak. He opened his mouth but no sound came out—he had been silent for so long that he had forgotten how to speak.

A flash of irritation crossed his brow, and with a mere thought, the boulders and trees that the four were hiding behind crumbled into dust and were blown away by the wind.

The four of them were left speechless.

Their eyes met Jiang Lin’s, and they realized that any hope of staying hidden was gone. They also had a clear understanding of the mysterious figure’s overwhelming power.

A powerhouse.

Impossible to defeat.

The short-haired woman reacted quickly, taking a step forward and politely greeting him, “Hello, we were just passing through and stopped for a rest. If we’ve disturbed you, we apologize sincerely.”

Jiang Lin opened his mouth again, but speaking still seemed difficult for him. However, he understood what the woman was saying.

The four watched as the strange being, whether human or something else, walked across the water as if it were solid ground. He found a clean stone, sat down, and remained silent.

The group exchanged cautious glances, and the short-haired woman spoke up again, “Well… we won’t disturb you any further. We’ll just be on our way.”

The four hurriedly turned to leave, and the mysterious figure made no move to stop them.

But before they could even breathe a sigh of relief, after pressing on for quite some time, they blinked—and there he was again, sitting right next to them.

The four of them were left speechless once more.

After this happened three times, they finally gave in.

The strange person didn’t seem to have any intention of attacking them, so they decided to just let him follow if that’s what he wanted. The short-haired woman even offered him a piece of bread at one point. However, the mysterious man refused. Not only did he refuse, but he also extended his right hand and, with his index finger, pointed at the ground in front of them.

The short-haired woman watched as a small green sprout suddenly emerged from the bare ground, slowly growing taller and larger. Within a minute, it had grown into a tree taller than herself, blossomed, and bore fruit—large, ripe red apples hanging from its branches.

The short-haired woman was stunned: What kind of god-like power is this? Is this even real?

Jiang Lin pointed at the apples and looked at her.

“Are you giving these to us?” the short-haired woman couldn’t help but swallow. This was a rare treat.

She saw the mysterious man nod.

Although he couldn’t speak, it seemed he could understand them.

The short-haired woman didn’t hesitate any longer; she picked several apples and distributed them to her teammates.

She wasn’t afraid of any traps: with the power this mysterious figure had displayed, taking their lives would be as easy as lifting a finger. There was no need for any tricks.

After a few days of rest in the area, the group was ready to move on—they still needed to find a human settlement.

The short-haired woman, named Anjia, made a point of saying goodbye to Jiang Lin. Of course, it didn’t take long for her to realize that the mysterious man was still following them, which she found strangely reassuring. Ever since they had met him, they hadn’t encountered a single zombie along the way.

Jiang Lin followed the group of four, listening to their conversations. Over the past few days, he had more or less pieced together the current state of the world. He felt like there was something very important he needed to do, but he couldn’t quite remember what it was.

One day, as he was traveling with the group, Jiang Lin suddenly noticed something a few miles ahead. It was another group of humans. Normally, this wouldn’t have caught his attention, but there was someone in that group whose presence filled him with an instinctive sense of disgust and unease.

Boss Chang’s younger brother was someone Jing Li never liked.

To put it kindly, the man was aimless and unmotivated; more bluntly, he was a scoundrel. He spent most of his time frequenting gambling dens and opium houses, only returning to his older brother when he ran out of money to beg for more.

He was a complete disgrace.

Yet, Boss Chang always showed him patience and indulgence.

Having lost his parents at a young age, Boss Chang had only been left with the bookstore and an unruly younger brother. Jing Li had witnessed Boss Chang’s tolerance firsthand and had even tried to persuade him otherwise.

At the time, Boss Chang had merely sighed and said, “He’s my only family, after all.”

Jing Li knew Boss Chang’s character well enough. He was an honest and upright man, running his business with integrity. To think he could kill someone was something Jing Li simply could not believe.

And to murder his own brother? Even more unthinkable.

“It’s not entirely impossible,” Gu Heng remarked. “Didn’t Boss Chang’s younger brother use the bookstore as collateral? Maybe they had another argument over money, and Boss Chang killed him to protect the store.”

Jing Li remained silent.

“Sister-in-law, you should stay out of this,” Gu Heng advised, noticing his troubled expression. “The Ji family knows about our relationship. They won’t trouble you anymore. As for the bookstore, now that it’s tied to a murder case, there’s no point in involving yourself further. You and Boss Chang aren’t related by blood.”

“But…” Jing Li hesitated for a moment before asking, “Do you truly believe Boss Chang is the culprit?”

Gu Heng opened his mouth but didn’t immediately respond.

The whole matter was indeed suspicious.

Logically, the bookstore issue had already been resolved. All Boss Chang had to do was wait patiently, and Ji Zhifei would eventually return the deed. He had no reason to escalate the situation into a murder case.

Now he was in prison. Not only had he lost the bookstore, but even his own life was at stake.

Moreover, why had his younger brother, missing for so long, suddenly returned home? Where had he been all this time? And how could a scholar like Boss Chang manage to kill a grown man and secretly transport the body out of the city?

It wasn’t just suspicious—it was all too coincidental.

Gu Heng had been preoccupied with preparing for the county examinations and had no time to look into Ji’s affairs. Once the exams were over, he had planned to push Ji Zhifei to return the deed. Yet, right before the exams concluded, this murder case had erupted.

The timing was far too convenient.

A flood of suspicions filled Gu Heng’s mind in an instant. He even had a vague idea of what the truth might be. But he said nothing, avoiding Jing Li’s gaze as he murmured, “Sister-in-law, let it go.”

No matter what the truth was, the case had already been handed over to the authorities. They had neither the reason nor the need to get involved.

Jing Li heard the implicit meaning in Gu Heng’s words.

It wasn’t that they couldn’t intervene—it was that they shouldn’t.

Gu Heng’s willingness to help last time had been due to Qin Zhao’s favor and because it required little effort on his part. He had already been at odds with Ji Zhifei and was happy to see him suffer.

But this time was different.

Being involved in a murder case meant that if Gu Heng insisted on intervening further, it would inevitably alarm his father and even the prefectural magistrate.

This would change the nature of the matter entirely.

It wasn’t worth wading into such murky waters.

As for Jing Li, he was just an ordinary commoner. Getting entangled in this matter would bring him no benefits, only harm.

For the sake of a mere acquaintance, there was no reason to take such a risk.

“I understand…” Jing Li lowered his head, murmuring softly.

Hearing Jing Li say this, Gu Heng sighed in relief. “It’s good that you’ve thought it through. If anything were to happen to you because of this, I would never be able to face Mr. Qin.”

Jing Li forced a small smile. “Don’t worry, I understand. You should go now. Don’t keep your friends waiting.”

Gu Heng nodded and quickly strode away, boarding the carriage that had been waiting at the door with the help of a servant.

Jing Li watched the carriage disappear into the distance, then closed the door and headed back inside.

In the main hall, Qin Zhao was holding little fry while Ah Qi was sorting through the gifts Gu Heng had brought. Seeing Jing Li enter, Qin Zhao glanced at him and immediately frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Huh?” Jing Li looked distracted. Hearing Qin Zhao call out to him, he belatedly lifted his head.

Qin Zhao set little fry down and walked over, taking Jing Li’s hand. “You look pale.”

“…Did Gu Heng say something to you?”

Qin Zhao was far too perceptive and knew Jing Li too well. He immediately sensed something was off.

Jing Li suddenly felt a pang of sourness in his nose. He lowered his gaze and shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Xiao Yu—”

“Really, it’s nothing,” Jing Li interrupted, his voice firm yet soft. “I’m just a bit tired. I’ll go rest for a while.”

Gently pulling his hand away from Qin Zhao’s, he turned and left the main hall, heading toward the courtyard.

“Sir…”

Ah Qi paused what he was doing, and even little fry looked puzzled, tugging at Qin Zhao’s sleeve. “Da… Da…”

“Mm, something’s definitely wrong,” Qin Zhao murmured with a nod.

Who had upset his little spouse this time?

When Qin Zhao returned to their room, it was empty.

He searched inside and out, eventually finding that familiar splash of vibrant red in the transparent fish tank on the desk.

The koi fish’s body was mostly buried in the thick aquatic plants and pebbles, with only a small section of its translucent tail gently swaying at the bottom of the tank. It was so well hidden that it would be hard to spot unless you looked carefully.

Qin Zhao shook his head.

Here we go again.

Every time something’s wrong, it hides in the water like this, that little creature.

Qin Zhao sat down by the table and knocked on the fish tank. “Your son, who isn’t even one year old, doesn’t hide in the water anymore.”

The koi fish trembled slightly, flicked its tail, and swam further into the plants, hiding itself even better.

Qin Zhao couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. “Don’t worry, little fry is still playing with Ah Qi in the outer courtyard, didn’t see your embarrassing behavior.”

Jing Li: “…”

“I’m not upset, I was just sleeping inside,” Jing Li said as he sat in front of the vanity, Qin Zhao drying his hair and pinning it up with a hairpin.

“Okay, you were sleeping,” Qin Zhao said as his long fingers ran through Jing Li’s hair. He asked gently, “Did you sleep well?”

Jing Li gave a soft “hm” in response. “It was alright.”

Qin Zhao asked, “Do you want to go out with me for a walk?”

Jing Li blinked.

Since mid-February, the weather in the capital city had begun to warm up, and Qin Zhao’s health had been gradually improving.

Not long ago, the doctor had finally given permission, saying that walking outside in good weather would help with his recovery.

Today, the sun was shining brightly, and it was a perfect time to go out.

Jing Li said, “Then I’ll go get little fry and change clothes.”

“No need,” Qin Zhao said as he brought Jing Li his outerwear. “I want to go out alone with you.”

Since little fry had been born, Jing Li and Qin Zhao hadn’t had many opportunities to go out alone together. Qin Zhao, not shy in the slightest, boldly held Jing Li’s hand, and they slowly strolled along the main street of the capital.

The early spring air was slightly cool, the sun warm but not too harsh, and the light felt cozy, bathing them in a pleasant warmth.

It had been a long time since Jing Li had wandered the streets with Qin Zhao like this, and he gradually pushed all his worries aside. As they ate and played along the way, they filled their hands with things by the end of the street.

At the end of the street, there was a bookstore.

This bookstore was quite large, with a long line outside, making it the busiest spot on the entire street.

Qin Zhao walked over, holding Jing Li’s hand, and just as they approached, they saw someone who appeared to be the store owner walk out and shout to the waiting crowd, “The last copy of ‘Dream Notes’ has sold out, everyone, please try another store.”

“It’s gone? I came all the way from outside the city!”

“This is the third bookstore I’ve been to!”

“Several bookstores have sold out, when will you be reprinting?”

“…It’s not up to us,” the shopkeeper replied awkwardly. “We don’t publish the books ourselves, and the author can’t be reached. We still have other books here, like this one, ‘Spring Night Collection’…”

No one listened to his explanation. The crowd muttered angrily for a while, and soon, someone said, “I heard there’s still stock at the bookstore in the south of the city,” causing everyone to scatter.

“Hey, don’t leave!”

The shopkeeper shouted, but it was ineffective.

In an instant, only Qin Zhao and Jing Li remained in front of the bookstore.

The shopkeeper’s eyes lit up, and he quickly approached them. “Gentlemen, would you like to take a look at this ‘Spring Night Collection’?”

Jing Li did not respond, but Qin Zhao asked, “Shopkeeper, what’s going on with that situation just now?”

The shopkeeper sighed heavily. “They all came to buy ‘Dream Notes.’ This book has been selling out in bookstores all over the city recently, and we sold the last copy this morning. When the customers found out they couldn’t get it, they just left.”

Qin Zhao asked again, “Why is it in such short supply?”

“Didn’t you know?” The shopkeeper replied. “The book was published by Boss Chang of Jing’an Bookstore. He’s said to be involved in a murder case, and the government arrested him early yesterday morning. Many people witnessed it.”

The shopkeeper continued, “It’s Boss Chang who handles this book, and only he knows how to contact the author. If I had known this was going to happen, I would have asked him for a few hundred more copies. Now, we don’t even know if Boss Chang will survive his time with the authorities, and the situation has become quite a mess…”

“A murder case…” Qin Zhao mused, “According to the law of our country, killing someone results in the death penalty, I fear…”

Jing Li’s gaze flickered, and his hand instinctively tightened around Qin Zhao’s.

Qin Zhao glanced at him thoughtfully before turning to the shopkeeper. “I’ll take this book. Thank you.”

By noon, the sun had become fiercer. The two of them went to a lakeside pavilion to rest.

The lake sparkled under the sunlight, and Qin Zhao and Jing Li sat close together beneath the pavilion, casually flipping through the book they had just bought. As they read, Qin Zhao couldn’t help but laugh. “This story is really…”

Jing Li leaned against his shoulder and softly asked, “What’s wrong?”

“This ‘Spring Night Collection’ is about a prince who spends a fortune for a courtesan, and in a fit of rage, does anything for his beloved,” Qin Zhao closed the book, amused but exasperated. “It’s pure nonsense.”

Jing Li replied, “People nowadays love this kind of thing.”

“Unrealistic,” Qin Zhao commented. “A prince would never have his head full of romantic fantasies, nor would he go to such lengths for someone he barely knows.”

“You’re right,” Jing Li gently agreed. “Then let’s not read it.”

Qin Zhao pulled him into his embrace with a smile, saying softly, “But if I really think about it, if it were you, things would be different.”

Jing Li blinked. “How would it be different?”

“You’re my husband,” Qin Zhao said, tilting his head and giving him a kiss on the cheek, speaking tenderly. “As your husband, wouldn’t I do anything for you?”

Qin Zhao’s hand lightly stroked his back, and he lowered his voice, asking, “So, don’t you have anything you want to tell me?”

Jing Li pressed his lips together, feeling a bit teary. “You figured it out…”

Qin Zhao, seeing his little fish’s sad expression, felt a pang of sympathy, though he also found it amusing.

Not just him, even Notes had noticed.

But he didn’t say anything, quietly waiting.

Jing Li buried his head in Qin Zhao’s shoulder, his voice soft and choked with emotion. “I… I think I did something wrong…”