Author Archives: Thandar

Qinghuan: “…”

Jiang Lin’s subtle yet pervasive pressure lingered around him, suppressing any rebellious thoughts he might have had. Fine, I’ll do it myself.

He huffed, picked up the small brush and knife, and began to prepare his own food.

Qinghuan wasn’t particularly skilled at this, but grilling wasn’t that difficult to begin with. Given the well-prepared seasonings and the fresh, high-quality meat, the results were bound to be tasty. The only distinction was between “incredibly delicious” and “just delicious.”

Qinghuan’s current grilling skills produced meat that was simply delicious.

But compared to the raw meat he was accustomed to, this was an extraordinary delicacy.

Qinghuan ate happily. At first, he still paid some attention to Jiang Lin’s movements, but before long, he was completely absorbed in figuring out how to cook the meat just right.

He didn’t even notice when Jiang Lin left.

When Qinghuan had eaten his fill, he realized that Jiang Lin was nowhere to be seen.

He paused, then grabbed a nearby demon and asked, “Where is the White Bone King?”

The demon replied, “The lord has eaten his fill, so of course, he’s gone back to sleep.”

The demon’s face was full of longing. “Have you seen the lord’s house? It’s so beautiful and comfortable. If I had such a lovely house, I’d want to stay in it all the time too.”

Qinghuan hadn’t expected that Jiang Lin had no ulterior motive and had simply invited him for a barbecue. Why did he feel a little disappointed by that?

But… a house?

This was the second time Qinghuan had heard this term from other demons.

Inevitably, his curiosity was piqued.

After asking around for directions, he learned that Jiang Lin’s house was nearby, within the valley. Qinghuan decided to take a look.

This time, he moved even more stealthily and quickly found the “house” the demons had been talking about—it wasn’t that his eyesight was exceptionally good, but rather that Jiang Lin’s meticulously crafted courtyard stood out too much in the otherwise wild and natural valley.

Qinghuan’s eyes widened as he gazed at the neatly arranged and beautiful fence. Unable to resist, he moved closer and jumped onto a tall tree.

From there, he could see the entire house.

He saw the large tree in the courtyard and the square wooden house within.

Beyond that, he couldn’t see much more.

But it was enough to leave him deeply impressed.

Qinghuan had never imagined that a place to live could be so elaborate.

He suddenly understood the envy in the words of the two little demons from earlier.

Indeed, who wouldn’t want to eat such delicious food and live in such a beautiful house?

He sat in the tree, lost in thought for a while before returning, feeling somewhat despondent.

He believed he had been discreet, but little did he know that his actions were entirely within Jiang Lin’s expectations.

The next day, Jiang Lin kept his promise and began to help everyone build houses.

The fifty-some demons, large and small, had gradually come to understand the significance of having a house.

For the married couples, it was especially meaningful, as it meant living together under one roof.

Some of the closer friends, like the cat demon, the rabbit, and their buddy Doghead, came hand in hand to Jiang Lin. They asked if they could build one big house together and live there as a group.

Jiang Lin was momentarily surprised, then smiled and said, “It’s your own place to live. As long as you’re happy, you don’t need to ask for my permission.”

The cat demon, touched, replied, “You’re so kind, my lord. You’re the most powerful and gentle lord I’ve ever met!”

She had completely forgotten about the White Bone Spirit’s previous terrifying nature.

Jiang Lin watched as the little demons hopped away happily, unable to suppress a smile.

Even the system couldn’t help but reflect, “I used to think that a life full of ups and downs and grand adventures was the only interesting kind. But watching this, it seems like farming and improving life has its own charm.”

Jiang Lin helped the demons plan out the terrain, suggesting that the smaller demons form a small community. This way, they could enjoy a lively atmosphere and stay informed of any news.

As for the elder ape demon, who led his own tribe and had a strong sense of territory, Jiang Lin designated a separate area for them to build their houses.

About ten days passed this way.

By now, a fifth of the demons under Jiang Lin’s leadership had their own homes. During these ten days, Jiang Lin also discovered two culinary talents: the pheasant and the cat demon.

The cat demon’s culinary skills likely stemmed from her deep love for and desire for delicious food. She had an innate sensitivity to ingredients and flavors, as well as a natural feel for cooking temperatures. By the fourth day, her barbecue was already better than Jiang Lin’s.

As for the pheasant, she was practically a life-skills expert and a perfectionist. While she might not have had the same sensitivity to flavors as the cat demon, she paid great attention to the combination of seasonings and the freshness of ingredients. Her cooking was not only delicious, but she also instinctively knew how to garnish dishes with flowers for presentation.

When it came to house-building, the pheasant was even more popular—she always had natural suggestions for details that made the houses look better.

Jiang Lin was amazed, thinking: It’s really White Tiger Ridge that’s limiting the pheasant’s potential. If she were in a civilized society, she would definitely achieve great things.

As for the others, Jiang Lin hadn’t found any other special talents yet, but strong and hardworking demons were common.

With these two capable demons, Jiang Lin felt confident enough to leave the tasks of cooking and house-building in their hands.

He gathered the demons and informed them that he would be going into seclusion for a while and that they should follow the pheasant and the cat demon’s instructions in his absence.

Worried that some demons might cause trouble, he gave the two a leaf from Qingluo, infused with his own power, for protection.

In reality, Jiang Lin was overthinking it—by now, the demons of White Tiger Ridge were very loyal to their lord. Although they didn’t quite understand why he had chosen the two as leaders instead of the strongest among them, they were only slightly puzzled and had no intention of causing any trouble.

Jiang Lin handed over his stock of seasonings to the two, along with some plant seeds, and then retreated to his courtyard and set up a barrier.

Although he claimed he was going into seclusion, in truth, he left a clone behind while his true self had already left White Tiger Ridge.

—Having stayed in this world for so long, mostly confined to White Tiger Ridge, he figured it was a good time to explore and learn more about how this world had developed.

Jing Li took about five seconds to make a decision.

The little koi, under Qin Zhao’s confused gaze, tensed its body, folded its fins, and then gently tipped to the side, sliding from the blanket onto the bed.

As it slid down, it even flipped over carefully, avoiding the injured area.

Afterward, it stayed completely still.

Qin Zhao: “?”

As his consciousness gradually cleared from its fog, Qin Zhao looked at the little koi lying motionless on the bed and suddenly understood the meaning behind its behavior.

It was… playing dead.

Seeing that Qin Zhao hadn’t reacted for a while, the little koi quietly lifted its head to sneak a glance at him, then quickly tensed up again and lay still.

Even its attempt at playing dead was so unconvincing.

Qin Zhao was almost amused to the point of laughter.

Did this silly fish really think he couldn’t see through it?

Soon, Qin Zhao noticed the faint smell of something burning in the air. He sighed silently, picked up the little koi, and carried it to the outer room.

His gaze lingered for just a moment on the puddle of water beside the bucket and the trail of water leading from the bedroom before he calmly placed the little koi back into the bucket and turned to check on the medicine.

Jing Li hid in the bucket, secretly watching him.

Qin Zhao’s condition was likely still uncomfortable. As he bent down to remove the lid from the medicine pot, his movements were noticeably slower, and his pale face showed a faint furrow of his brows.

But beyond that, there was nothing else out of the ordinary.

His demeanor remained calm, as still as an ancient well, undisturbed by any ripples.

It was as if the Qin Zhao Jing Li had seen earlier—the cold, guarded one who exuded an overwhelming sense of pressure—was just an illusion.

What kind of person is Qin Zhao, really?

Qin Zhao had woken up just in time, so the medicine was saved. He quietly sat at the table and drank the medicine before finally turning his attention back to the little koi.

Jing Li was still secretly observing him, and when he caught Qin Zhao’s gaze, he was so startled that he blew a huge bubble.

Qin Zhao reached out his hand towards him.

Jing Li stared blankly at his movement, even forgetting to run away.

Oh no, oh no, is Qin Zhao angry and planning to kill him to make fish soup? Or has he already figured out that he’s not an ordinary fish and wants to kill him like a monster…

In an instant, Jing Li imagined countless ways he might die.

But Qin Zhao merely flicked him lightly on the head.

The force was gentle, and it didn’t hurt at all.

“Returning it to you,” Qin Zhao said as he stood up, placing the medicine bowl back on the stove. “And next time, if you need to remind me, find another way. No touching my face.”

After that day, Jing Li settled down at Qin Zhao’s house.

Qin Zhao treated him very well. He changed his water daily, fed him, checked his injuries, and took meticulous care of him. In just a few days, the once small and skinny little fish had gained quite a bit of weight.

However…

“Where exactly do you stash all the food you eat?” Qin Zhao poked at Jing Li’s full, round belly, finding it hard to believe.

Clearly, he was just a palm-sized fish, yet he managed to consume food almost as big as himself.

How does he do it?

Every time this happened, Jing Li would flip over, sticking to Qin Zhao’s fingers, not letting him leave, and insisting on a few more rubs.

A post-meal massage helps with digestion.

Qin Zhao’s touch was gentle and just the right amount of pressure, quickly making Jing Li drowsy.

But this little bit of leisure time never lasted long. By afternoon, it was time for Qin Zhao to work.

Qin Zhao would move the small wooden bucket to the writing desk in the bedroom.

“The usual rule—don’t splash water out, or no dinner tonight,” Qin Zhao reminded as he skillfully spread out the paper and ink.

The little fish obediently wagged its tail at him.

Over these days together, Jing Li had learned quite a bit about Qin Zhao.

For example, he knew that Qin Zhao’s health was even worse than he had initially thought, making it difficult for him to gather herbs in the mountains. He had to choose days with good weather; it couldn’t be too cold or too hot, and he couldn’t stay out for more than two hours. Otherwise, he would inevitably develop a fever upon returning.

His body was indeed very fragile.

Additionally, Qin Zhao’s main source of income was actually revising and copying manuscripts.

The manuscripts mostly came from nearby academies or temples in neighboring towns. These places had accumulated a large number of books that needed revising and copying, and when their own staff was insufficient, they would hire people from the local area to help.

These institutions were generous. After accounting for the cost of ink, paper, brushes, and the fee to have someone deliver the manuscripts to town, Qin Zhao could earn about 180 to 200 wen for each manuscript he completed.

It paid much better than a trip up the mountain to gather herbs.

As for bringing the little fish to “supervise” his work, that was purely because Jing Li got bored being left alone. If he was left by himself, he would splash around in protest until Qin Zhao brought him over.

Jing Li would then perch on the edge of the wooden bucket, diligently watching Qin Zhao as he wrote.

This era was not one that existed in recorded history, and the characters used were unlike any ancient script Jing Li knew. After observing for so many days, all he could tell was that Qin Zhao’s handwriting was elegant and free-flowing, but the content remained a complete mystery to him.

A well-educated modern student, transmigrated to ancient times, had become illiterate.

Every time Jing Li thought about it, he felt a bit melancholic.

Qin Zhao had been working on this manuscript for four or five days, and today he was finally nearing the end. As he finished writing the last word, he looked up to see that the little koi fish had already floated to the surface of the water, fast asleep.

All day long, it insisted on staying by his side, yet it fell asleep faster than anyone.

Qin Zhao couldn’t resist gently poking the upturned belly of the fish.

The little koi’s sleeping posture was rather alarming, with its pale pink belly facing upward, its body drifting up and down in the water, and it was so deeply asleep that it couldn’t be woken up no matter what.

The first time Qin Zhao saw this, he nearly thought the little koi had died.

It was the same now—the little koi lay on its back, sleeping soundly, its tail spread out like silk on the water’s surface, with every detail of its pattern clearly visible.

Each time Qin Zhao poked it, the tail would softly sway, looking like it had an excellent texture.

Qin Zhao found this amusing and couldn’t resist touching it several more times, which finally provoked the fish’s tail to slap back forcefully.

Jing Li woke up under the persistent “harassment,” grumpily flipping over in the water, ready to bite.

Fortunately, Qin Zhao was quick and dodged in time.

The little koi had a bad temper when waking up, and it was quite severe.

“Alright, don’t be angry,” Qin Zhao said. “I’m done with my work now. How about I take you to the stream for a little fun?”

Going out to play?

Jing Li quickly let go of his anger, slapping his tail on the water’s surface to show his agreement.

There was no helping it—staying indoors was just too boring.

Jing Li had always been the restless type, and now that he was a fish, confined to a small wooden bucket, it was unbearably stifling.

However, even so, he didn’t have any plans to leave just yet.

Because… the food Qin Zhao made was simply too delicious.

Even though it was just simple coarse grains and wild vegetables, Qin Zhao could turn them into gourmet dishes. Wasn’t that an undeniable reason to stay?

Compared to leaving and having to eat small fish, shrimp, and aquatic plants, Jing Li would much rather be a domesticated koi fish.

Besides, Qin Zhao took him out for some fresh air every day.

Qin Zhao’s house wasn’t far from the stream; heading west from the door, it took less than the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea to get there.

Linxi Village was built along the stream, and several paths from the village led to the water’s edge. Qin Zhao often took Jing Li to the upstream area, where, aside from the occasional villager fetching water to cook, there were hardly any people around.

The weather was nice today, with warm sunlight shimmering on the clear stream, making it sparkle.

After cleaning the small wooden bucket and refilling it with fresh water, Qin Zhao looked up just in time to see the little koi leap out of the water.

The bright red koi soared into the air, its tail fin flicking as its body drew a graceful arc, before landing lightly back into the water.

Water splashed everywhere.

The water here was calm and clear, and Jing Li swam around joyfully, his bright red tail flickering in and out of sight on the water’s surface.

Qin Zhao stood quietly on the shore, watching the koi fish play in the water, with a faint smile on his lips that he himself didn’t even notice.

Keeping it in a small wooden bucket was indeed a bit of a constraint.

Qin Zhao thought to himself that if he had the chance, he should make a bigger pond for it.

“Well, well, isn’t this Qin Zhao?”

A voice came from behind, and Qin Zhao turned around to see a chubby young man walking toward the stream. The young man looked him up and down, saying, “What’s the occasion today that even a sickly person like you is out? Can your body handle it? Don’t pass out and fall into the water—no one will be able to save you.”

The tone was far from friendly, and Jing Li paused, turning his gaze toward the shore.

The chubby young man looked a few years younger than Qin Zhao, around sixteen or seventeen. His attire and demeanor were far more refined than that of the average villager, making it clear that he wasn’t accustomed to hard labor.

Who is this person?

Jing Li flicked his tail, feeling an inexplicable dislike for him.

Qin Zhao, however, didn’t seem to mind and calmly replied, “Thank you for your concern.”

The chubby young man, irritated by Qin Zhao’s indifferent tone, felt as though he had punched a cotton ball, leaving him uncomfortable all over. He retorted coldly, “What kind of attitude is that? Don’t forget whose favor it is that allows you to stay in Linxi Village.”

Qin Zhao responded, “I won’t forget that the Chen family took me in.”

“Good that you remember.” The young man smirked coldly. “By the way, I hear you still owe my family over half a year’s rent. I suggest you gather the money soon, or else… when you’re homeless, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

This chubby young man was Chen Yanan, the eldest grandson of the Chen family, and the house where Qin Zhao currently lived was rented from the Chen family.

Qin Zhao asked, “Does that mean you’re planning to divide the family assets soon?”

Uncle Lin had already mentioned that the Chen family was currently in the process of splitting up.

The Chen family had three generations living together, with only Old Madam Chen left from the oldest generation, but there were four sons, even the youngest of whom had already started his own family.

Before, when Old Madam Chen was still in good health, these four families had all lived together under one roof, which inevitably led to conflicts.

Now that the opportunity had arisen, splitting the family was widely anticipated.

The house where Qin Zhao lived belonged to the Chen family, and after the division, it would likely change hands. Whether he could continue to live there and how the rent would be calculated would depend on the new owner.

And it seemed that the new owner would likely be Chen Yanan’s family.

Hearing Qin Zhao’s question, a hint of displeasure flashed across Chen Yanan’s face, and he snapped, “Why are you asking so much? Just focus on getting the money together.”

Qin Zhao asked again, “Did you come all this way just to remind me of this?”

“Who said I came all this way just for you? I just happened to be passing by!”

Qin Zhao silently looked at him.

The Chen family lived on the far eastern side of the village, while the stream where they were now was on the far west. “Passing by” seemed like a stretch.

Chen Yanan’s face showed a hint of embarrassment, and he quickly changed the subject, “You should be more concerned about yourself! If I’m not mistaken, you’ve been behind on rent for nine months now. My grandmother allowed you to pay annually, but my mother won’t. At sixty-five wen a month, that adds up to nearly six hundred wen. Can you pay that?”

Qin Zhao naturally couldn’t come up with the money right now.

He had been very ill during the winter and had used up most of his savings.

The manuscript he finished today could be exchanged for 200 wen, and along with the money from selling herbs a few days ago, he had a total of only 365 wen—almost half of what he owed.

If he could produce a manuscript every five days, he might be able to scrape together the money if the Chen family gave him a little more time.

But that would be without eating, drinking, or buying medicine.

In reality, Qin Zhao had to buy medicine every ten days, which cost him around 300 wen each time.

This was why he was always living so frugally.

Qin Zhao didn’t respond immediately, which made Chen Yanan even more smug. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to come up with it. So, how about you try begging me? Maybe I could ask my mother to give you an extension?”

“No need,” Qin Zhao replied calmly. “I’ll do my best.”

“Do your best? If you were really trying your best, you wouldn’t be relying on my grandmother’s kindness and refusing to leave.” Chen Yanan sneered, mocking him, “You’ve been in our village for three years, and you still can’t even pay the rent. Where is your money going—on medicine, or are you squandering it on something else?”

Qin Zhao’s eyes flickered with a hint of coldness.

Meeting his gaze, Chen Yanan suddenly hesitated.

Qin Zhao looked away, his voice gentle but firm, “Yanan, since you’re studying at the private school in town, your teacher should have taught you the importance of being careful with your words and actions.”

“And also, filial piety is the foremost of virtues. Your grandmother is still alive, yet you’re already spreading news about dividing the family. That’s inappropriate.”

Chen Yanan felt a strange sense of unease under Qin Zhao’s gaze, and he blurted out, “What does my family’s business have to do with you? Who do you think you are—”

Before he could finish, a splash of water suddenly surged beside him.

The next moment, something struck him hard in the back of his knees, causing him to lose his balance and fall into the water with a splash. A flash of bright red appeared in the corner of his eye.

“What was that—!”

Jing Li leaped out of the water, and with a graceful flick of his beautiful tail, he delivered a solid slap to Chen Yanan.

Qinghuan had been lazily resting in his original form, coiled up in his cave, when the sudden arrival of the scent made him lift his head abruptly, his red forked tongue flickering in and out.

He had never smelled anything like this before. It was hard to describe—extremely fragrant, yet not the natural scent of flowers, fruits, or trees. It felt like it had hooks, perfectly snagging the hunger deep within him.

He was hungry.

Qinghuan didn’t hesitate, transforming into his human form as his instincts for finding food kicked in, guiding him toward the source of the scent.

It didn’t take long for him to find the location.

But when he arrived, Qinghuan hesitated.

He sensed the presence of other demons ahead, and it was a mixed crowd—roughly estimating, there were dozens of them gathered there.

Could it be that these demons had discovered something extraordinary?

He instinctively wanted to take a look but then felt a strange urge telling him it might be better to turn around and leave.

However, just then, the aroma intensified, exploding all around him, enveloping his entire being.

Saliva involuntarily pooled in his mouth.

Qinghuan: …Forget it, I might as well go.

He quietly concealed his presence and moved toward where the demonic energies were concentrated.

From a distance, he heard the sounds of lively chatter, saw the rising flames, and smelled the even stronger, irresistible aroma.

Qinghuan paused briefly; he didn’t like fire.

But it was only a brief pause before he continued forward, finding a tall tree to climb up and observe from a distance.

The scene in the valley clearing was entirely in his view.

Dozens of demons sat in small groups, each around a fire. On the fires, strange sticks held the source of that wondrous scent.

Qinghuan’s sharp eyes recognized the items on the sticks: there were mountain pheasants, goats, fish—ordinary creatures that could be found around the area.

These things, when roasted over a fire, could smell this good?

He pondered this to himself.

The next moment, he suddenly felt all the hairs on his body stand on end.

Startled, Qinghuan instinctively looked in that direction, only to see a young man dressed in an ordinary dark robe, sitting among the demons, looking in his direction with a faint, knowing smile.

This young man had been quietly sitting there the whole time, without any strong demonic aura. When Qinghuan had been observing earlier, he hadn’t even noticed him.

But now, this man had noticed him and triggered an instinctive sense of danger in Qinghuan.

The most terrifying thing was that even now, Qinghuan couldn’t discern anything about this young man’s origins.

Since when had White Tiger Ridge harbored such a terrifying demon?

A thought flashed through Qinghuan’s mind: No, he might not have just arrived…

He suddenly realized—he had never seen the humanoid form of that White Bone King before.

Qinghuan immediately wanted to leave.

But in the next moment, a voice, calm and slightly amused, echoed gently in his ear: “A guest is a guest. Why not come and enjoy the food with us?”

Though the man was far away, his words sounded as if they were whispered right next to Qinghuan’s ear.

At the same time, a heavy pressure bore down on him, making it impossible for him to even turn around and escape.

Gritting his teeth, Qinghuan slowly walked toward the source of the voice, step by step, struggling under the weight of the pressure.

Soon, one of the demons noticed him, and there was a brief stir among them. However, they quickly calmed down—after all, their lord was present.

Qinghuan felt a mix of frustration and a sense of humiliation, but as he got closer to the barbecue area, these emotions gradually turned into curiosity and a desire for the delicious food.

His gaze was irresistibly drawn to the skewers over the fire, where the scent was coming from.

The meat, which he had eaten countless times in its raw form, was now roasted over the fire, taking on an enticingly dark color. The sizzling fat produced a tantalizing aroma that filled his nostrils with its rich, dominant scent.

Jiang Lin watched with amusement as Qinghuan tried to maintain an air of indifference, acting as if he were above it all, while clearly struggling to resist the temptation. Jiang Lin found it hilarious.

It seemed like Qinghuan thought he was doing a good job of hiding his true feelings.

These demons were really quite amusing.

Deciding not to call him out, Jiang Lin beckoned the cat demon over and gave her some instructions.

The cat demon was a bit surprised but trusted Jiang Lin completely. She stood up and approached Qinghuan.

“The lord says that a guest is a guest, and he asked me to host you,” the cat demon said nervously to Qinghuan.

This snake demon was well-known in White Tiger Ridge and didn’t have the best temper. Several of her friends had suffered at his hands.

The only comforting thing was that the snake demon was a homebody—he spent most of his time sleeping, and even when he was awake, he usually stayed in his cave resting.

Qinghuan frowned. “What do you mean?”

He glanced over at Jiang Lin, who simply smiled at him without any intention of speaking.

This left Qinghuan with a belly full of questions.

But soon, those questions no longer seemed important.

The cat demon skillfully set up the grill, lit the fire, and brought over a dish of seasonings.

Qinghuan watched the scene unfold with curiosity.

He didn’t like fire, as snakes are creatures that prefer cold and damp environments. The bright and warm sensation made him feel slightly uncomfortable.

But it was something he could endure.

He watched the cat demon’s actions intently, his sharp sense of smell telling him that the contents of the small dish in her hands were the source of the captivating aroma.

“What is that?” he asked, his voice slightly raspy.

The cat demon, startled, quickly glanced at Qinghuan before answering, “This is called seasoning. The lord gave it to us, and it’s said to contain several spices that make food taste particularly delicious.”

Qinghuan pressed further, “Where did it come from?”

The cat demon was confused. “Huh?”

She had never thought about that before.

After thinking for a moment and still not understanding, she replied, “Well, the lord brought it out. The lord is amazing; he even knows how to build beautiful houses, so it’s not strange that he has these things.”

Qinghuan: …

He wanted to ask what a house was, but the cat demon cut a slice of the cooked meat, placed it on a stone plate, and handed it to him. “You can eat it now. Try it with this wooden fork.”

As the steaming meat was presented before him, Qinghuan swallowed any further questions. He took the plate, awkwardly speared a piece of meat with the wooden fork, and placed it in his mouth.

!

His eyes flashed briefly with excitement, and he quickly took another bite.

The small plate of meat was soon empty, and Qinghuan licked his lips, his gaze lingering hungrily on the large leg of meat before him.

But the cat demon stood up and said, “Now you have to roast it yourself.”

Qinghuan: ?

Having never done such a bothersome task himself, Qinghuan narrowed his eyes. “You’re not going to roast it for me?”

The pressure from his presence made the cat demon a bit fearful, but when she glanced at Jiang Lin sitting not far away, she felt reassured and confident:

“The lord said that everyone should do their own work. Even the lord is grilling his own meat.”

Besides, she hadn’t finished her own food yet.

She was just as eager to eat, too!

xxx

Thandar: ahhhh who else loves the little cat like me? ❤️❤️❤️❤️

“Don’t move around,” Qin Zhao said, pinching Jing Li’s body between two fingers. “You’re still injured.”

Jing Li had completely forgotten about his injury.

The water helped to numb the pain, and since the area where his scales had been removed was on his side, neither his fins nor his tail touched it, so he didn’t feel any pain.

Seeing the little fish’s dumbfounded look, Qin Zhao realized that Jing Li had forgotten about his injury.

He lowered his gaze and gently ran his finger over the injured area. Where there had once been bright red scales, a few were now missing, revealing soft, pale pink skin.

Ouch, ouch, ouch—!

Jing Li’s tail trembled from the pain, and his body wriggled in Qin Zhao’s grasp.

In this era, there was no systematic fish farming, and fishing was the main source of fish. No one would think of treating a fish’s wounds, especially in such a remote mountain village.

Even if they wanted to treat it, there were no medicines available.

Fortunately, fish have a strong ability to heal themselves, and the little koi’s wound wasn’t too deep; there was no bleeding, and once the scales grew back, it would be fine.

After checking the little koi’s injury, Qin Zhao put him back in the water.

Jing Li wiggled his tail and retreated to the bottom of the bucket.

Why does this man keep picking on a poor fish?

“Not going to talk to me anymore?” Qin Zhao tapped the edge of the bucket with his knuckles, speaking leisurely. “Do you know why I haven’t let you go? I’m a stingy person, and today I spent fifteen coins to buy you. If you don’t repay that money, I won’t let you go.”

“Little fish, you should think carefully about how you’re going to compensate me.”

Jing Li quietly floated up to the surface.

Qin Zhao had saved his life, so naturally, he wanted to repay the favor. But now he was just a fish and couldn’t turn back into a human. He couldn’t even go out to earn money.

How could he possibly repay him…

In the few days since he transmigrated, Jing Li had tried to transform back into a human, but he hadn’t succeeded once.

It seemed that aside from having a human soul and memories, he was no different from the ordinary little fish that could be found everywhere in this world.

Jing Li felt a deep sense of despair.

The little koi fretted in the water, and Qin Zhao tapped his head again. “Actually, I have an idea.”

Jing Li looked up.

What idea?

Qin Zhao’s expression was serious and sincere as he said slowly, “How about this: once I’ve raised you big and strong, you can repay me by producing some little fish? You… should be a female fish, right?”

As he spoke, his finger pointed suggestively toward Jing Li’s lower abdomen.

!!!

Where does this man think he’s touching!!!

And besides, he’s male! He can’t possibly produce little fish!

Jing Li was both angry and flustered and bit down on Qin Zhao’s finger.

But the little koi had only a row of tiny teeth, and the bite was neither painful nor threatening in the least.

Qin Zhao couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

Jing Li: “…”

Teasing him again—how bored is this man, seriously!

Qin Zhao was about to tease him some more when suddenly there was a knock on the door from outside.

“Herbs for sale—anyone home?”

Qin Zhao restrained his smile and turned to open the door.

Standing at the door was a young boy, about ten years old, with a basket on his back. He respectfully greeted Qin Zhao, “Mr. Qin, my master sent me to collect the herbs.”

The boy’s name was A-Wen, an apprentice to the only herbalist in a nearby village. Every two weeks, he would go around the surrounding villages to collect herbs.

These villages relied on the mountains for their livelihood, where medicinal herbs were abundant. When there was no farming to be done, the villagers often went up the mountain to gather herbs.

If they had the means, like Lin Lao’er, they could use an ox cart to transport the herbs to town, where they could fetch a higher price. However, the pharmacies in town bought herbs in large quantities and had very high standards for quality, so they rarely purchased unprocessed herbs from farmers.

As a result, farmers preferred to sell to the local doctor, even if the price was lower. At least it saved them the cost of transportation and processing.

In front of others, Qin Zhao returned to his usual gentle and kind demeanor. He retrieved several bundles of herbs, which had already been sorted and prepared, and handed them to the boy.

The boy carefully counted the herbs and smiled, “As always, Mr. Qin’s herbs are of excellent quality. We’ll take all of these.”

He handed a string of coins to Qin Zhao, who nodded and asked, “Why is there an extra fifteen coins?”

“It’s not extra. My master said that Mr. Qin’s herbs are of such good quality that he instructed me before I left to increase the price by ten percent for anything from your household starting today.”

Why would they suddenly raise the price?

Qin Zhao’s eyes flickered slightly, sensing that something was odd.

However, small village businesses often worked this way, offering a bit of extra profit to farmers they had good relationships with, benefiting both sides.

Qin Zhao didn’t say much more, simply nodding and saying, “Thank you.”

The boy packed the herbs into his basket and added, “Oh, and my master also mentioned that the next few days are ideal for gathering herbs. If Mr. Qin can collect more, the price can go up even further.”

Qin Zhao nodded in agreement and saw the boy out.

Jing Li lay by the edge of the bucket, peering outside.

A single copper coin is worth one wen, and one hundred coins make up a string. Along with some loose coins, there were a total of one hundred sixty-five wen on the table.

Jing Li had watched closely just now and saw that Qin Zhao had brought out three or four types of herbs, each bundle containing about ten stalks—so not a large quantity.

It seemed that even though he couldn’t work in the fields, the sickly man had his own way of making a living.

No wonder he could afford the cost of his medicine.

After sending off the herbal apprentice, Qin Zhao kept an eye on the simmering medicine by the stove for a while, then went into the inner room.

On the stove, the fire crackled and burned brightly, filling the room with a rich medicinal aroma.

Jing Li swam around in the bucket, feeling a bit bored.

As a fish, his movements were limited, and he couldn’t go far. Without Qin Zhao around to play with him, he didn’t know what to do.

What is Qin Zhao doing…

Jing Li waited for a long time, but Qin Zhao still didn’t come out. Eventually, he couldn’t resist the drowsiness and started to doze off in the water.

That is, until a faint smell of burning filled the air.

The fire under the stove was still burning vigorously, and the lid of the medicine pot was being pushed up repeatedly by the steam, with a ring of medicinal liquid spilling over the edges.

Jing Li snapped awake.

If it continued like this, the medicine pot would boil dry.

What on earth is Qin Zhao doing?

Jing Li swam around frantically, his tail repeatedly slapping the water’s surface, trying to splash water to get Qin Zhao’s attention. But the curtain to the bedroom remained quiet and undisturbed, with no sound of movement.

Suddenly, Jing Li remembered Qin Zhao’s pale complexion, and his actions came to a halt.

Qin Zhao’s health was poor; after walking so much on the way back from town today and being exposed to the cold mountain wind, could it be that…

The more Jing Li thought about it, the more worried he became. He steeled himself and gave his tail a strong flick, jumping out of the bucket.

Perhaps due to his former human self, Jing Li’s physical abilities were much stronger than those of an ordinary little fish. If not for this, he wouldn’t have survived the fishmonger’s knife.

He jumped down from the table and hopped toward the bedroom, leaving a trail of water behind him.

The bedroom was small, with a wooden bed leaning against the wall, and a writing desk with a low stool by the window.

There was nothing else in the room.

The light inside was dim, and Qin Zhao lay on the wooden bed, his brows furrowed unconsciously. The faint color in his lips had faded, and his cheeks were slightly flushed.

He was indeed sick.

Jing Li hopped closer, but the injury on his side hindered his movement, and it took considerable effort to finally make it onto the pillow.

Qin Zhao looked even more handsome when he was asleep.

His facial features appeared even more striking and defined in the dim light of the room. The corners of his eyes had a slight flush due to the fever, and at the very end of his eye was a faintly colored small cinnabar mole.

Jing Li stared, momentarily entranced.

He couldn’t fathom why someone like this would be ostracized.

Qin Zhao had a gentle and kind personality but lacked the pedantic dullness of ancient scholars. Someone as good as him—if not for his poor health—would surely capture the hearts of countless men and women.

They must be taking advantage of his good temper to bully him.

Jing Li thought angrily as he propped himself up and gently touched Qin Zhao’s cheek with his cold fin.

But he quickly withdrew it after being scalded by the heat.

He couldn’t let the fever continue like this.

Without worrying about whether he would be suspected, Jing Li slapped Qin Zhao’s face with all his might.

Don’t sleep, wake up! You need to take your medicine first!

But Qin Zhao’s fever was so severe that he seemed completely unconscious. No matter how much Jing Li slapped him, he couldn’t wake him up.

…Well, then he couldn’t be blamed.

Jing Li braced himself, spread his fins, took a deep breath, and jumped up, swinging his tail with all his strength.

Smack—!

The tail landed squarely on Qin Zhao’s face, leaving a faint red mark on his thin skin.

But still, there was no response.

He still won’t wake up???

Jing Li grew more anxious and frustrated. He couldn’t stay out of the water for too long, and by now, after all this effort, the suffocating feeling from lack of water was creeping in, making it increasingly difficult to open his gills.

He couldn’t delay any longer.

Jing Li took a deep breath and, with even greater force than before, launched himself into the air, his tail raised high.

But just as he was about to strike again, Qin Zhao suddenly opened his eyes, locking gazes with Jing Li.

It was like waking from a nightmare. A thin layer of sweat covered Qin Zhao’s forehead, and his expression was markedly different from usual.

The warmth and kindness that had previously characterized him were gone, replaced by a cold and wary look that made his narrow, deep-set eyes appear even more chilling.

And much more unfamiliar.

Jing Li shivered under the intensity of Qin Zhao’s stare, lost his balance, and tumbled lightly onto the bed.

For a long moment, the room was silent, the only sound coming from the crackling fire outside.

Jing Li lay on Qin Zhao’s chest, and it took him a while to realize that he was trembling slightly.

There was no denying it—Qin Zhao in this state was… a bit terrifying.

The man and the fish stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, the coldness in Qin Zhao’s eyes faded, and he returned to his usual self.

Slowly, he touched his cheek where the fresh red mark lingered, still damp.

“You…” Whether it was due to the fever or the sheer bewilderment of the situation, Qin Zhao’s expression was one of confusion. “…Did you hit me?”

Jing Li: “…”

Uh… is there still a chance for him to explain?

“You young lads never take care of your bodies. It’s easy to catch a cold these days, wandering around in the mountains like that. Good thing I ran into you today.”

“Where did you catch this fish? It’s short and small—looks nice but is useless. How can it be enough to eat?”

Jing Li: “???”

Who are you calling short and small and useless? Is that how a human should talk?

The ox cart bumped along as it moved forward. Qin Zhao sat inside, holding the wooden bucket. He only responded with a soft “hmm” to the farmer’s words.

Jing Li observed him through the water.

Why did it seem like this man just smiled?

The farmer giving them a ride was surnamed Lin, second in his family, so everyone in the village called him Lin Lao’er.

As Lin Lao’er waved his whip to urge the ox forward, he raised his voice to chat with Qin Zhao: “But it’s just as well. You’re so thin; you need to eat well and build yourself up! If you can’t cook, bring it to my place. Your aunt can make you some sweet and sour carp!”

Jing Li: “…”

“Thank you, Uncle Lin,” Qin Zhao calmly replied, firmly pressing down on Jing Li’s tail to stop him from splashing water, “but that won’t be necessary.”

Lin Lao’er didn’t mind.

He was clearly in a good mood today and continued to chat with Qin Zhao for a while before finally leaving him alone, humming a little tune to himself.

Jing Li flicked his tail and swam to the edge of the wooden bucket.

Even though this farmer kept talking about eating him, he was kind to Qin Zhao. If it weren’t for him, who knows how long it would have taken the sickly man to walk back.

No need to be angry, no need to be angry.

Someone came along to give him a ride when he was tired, so the sickly man’s luck was much better than his own.

Jing Li quickly convinced himself to let it go and turned his attention to the scenery outside.

The edge of the bucket wasn’t very high, and when he poked his head out, he could see the view outside. They had already left the mountains and were now in a more open, plains-like area.

There were some fields along the dirt road, with many people bent over, working the land.

It was spring planting season, a time when farmers sow their crops to harvest in the autumn. Their livelihood depended on this.

Jing Li had never done farm work, but he knew that plowing, planting, fertilizing, weeding, and harvesting were all labor-intensive tasks. In remote mountain villages like this one, strong and sturdy men were essential.

And the man beside him…

In such poor health, he probably wasn’t much use for labor, which might be why others looked down on him.

In an instant, Jing Li’s mind filled with the tragic scenario of someone unable to work due to poor health, scorned by family and ridiculed by the village—just like in the novels.

“You like watching me that much?” The man spoke softly, and only then did Jing Li realize he had been staring at him absentmindedly.

The country road was full of bumps, causing the ox cart to jolt violently. Qin Zhao had to hold the bucket tightly with both arms to keep the water from spilling.

It looked as if he was cradling him in his arms.

And here he was, staring at the man like that…

This realization made Jing Li suddenly feel a bit embarrassed. He flicked his tail, intending to dive back into the water, but then he saw Qin Zhao suddenly reach out a hand toward him.

Jing Li instinctively wanted to flee.

“Don’t move,” Qin Zhao said in a low voice.

Jing Li paused, and then he felt the man’s fingertips touch his forehead.

Once again, Jing Li caught the scent of medicine from him.

The fragrance was faint, carrying the usual bitterness of herbs, yet it wasn’t unpleasant.

Qin Zhao’s expression was focused. He slightly tilted his head, his fingertips gliding over the smooth scales, brushing lightly over the thin, transparent dorsal fin, and finally resting on the soft, cool tail.

Jing Li remained still, allowing him to touch, and when he reached the tip of the tail, Jing Li instinctively curled it around his finger.

This reaction clearly pleased Qin Zhao. His eyes brightened slightly, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Qin Zhao had a very attractive smile.

It was as if the vitality that had been drained from him suddenly returned in that moment. His deep, dark eyes, hidden beneath his eyelashes, reflected sparkling light in the sunlight.

Jing Li was mesmerized, momentarily forgetting how to swim. It wasn’t until his body began to sink that he snapped out of it, quickly moving his tail to regain balance.

“Ha.” Qin Zhao let out a light laugh, tapping the fish’s tail. “Can’t even swim properly—are you really a fish? How silly.”

Jing Li: “…”

That’s because he wasn’t used to being a fish yet!

Jing Li slapped Qin Zhao’s fingers away and retreated to the bottom of the bucket, sulking.

No matter how good-looking he was, he shouldn’t be saying such things about him.

Hmph.

The ox cart moved at a pace two or three times faster than walking, and before long, they reached the village.

The village was called Linxi Village, as a small stream flowed past the front of the village. The villagers relied on this stream for their daily needs, such as washing clothes, cooking, and watering their crops.

The people of Linxi Village were simple and honest. Many greeted Lin Lao’er along the way, but when they saw Qin Zhao in the cart, their smiles faded, and some even went out of their way to avoid him.

But Qin Zhao kept his head down, focused on playing with the fish, unaffected by the reactions around him.

He was like a deep well, calm and undisturbed, with nothing external capable of causing the slightest ripple.

Until the ox cart stopped in front of a house.

Well… calling it a house wasn’t exactly accurate.

Linxi Village wasn’t particularly wealthy, but every household typically had a small courtyard and two or three rooms as standard. However, what appeared before Jing Li was just a shabby little mud house.

The exterior walls were heavily weathered and peeling, the wooden door was half-open and couldn’t close properly, likely letting in drafts during the winter.

Jing Li pulled his head back and quietly glanced at Qin Zhao.

Does he really live in a place like this?

Qin Zhao got off the cart, holding the bucket, and politely cupped his hands toward Lin Lao’er, saying, “Thank you, Uncle Lin.”

“It’s nothing, just a small favor.” Lin Lao’er waved it off, “I can’t read a single word, and if it weren’t for you writing that complaint for me back then, my family wouldn’t have gotten back that land that was taken from us. It’s only right that I help you out a bit.”

Lin Lao’er helped him carry the medicinal herbs into the house, and after seeing the bare and empty interior, he sighed again, “You still can’t remember your full name or where you came from?”

Qin Zhao shook his head, “I only remember that my surname is Qin, but as for my given name or background, I know nothing.”

“Don’t you want to go farther, to the big city, to look for your family?” Lin Lao’er suggested, “Qin Zhao, I’m not exaggerating, but with your outstanding appearance and literary talent, it’s clear that you’re not like us farmers. If there were someone like you in the nearby villages, word would have spread long ago. You wouldn’t still be searching without any news.”

Qin Zhao placed the wooden bucket on the only table in the house, his expression still calm, his tone gentle and measured, “Thank you for your kind intentions, Uncle Lin, but I can’t venture too far right now. If I were to undertake such a long journey, I fear I wouldn’t even make it to the city before…”

“Sigh, true enough, taking care of your health is most important!”

Jing Li, leaning against the side of the bucket, listened to the conversation, his tail gently swaying in the water.

Qin Zhao wasn’t originally from this village.

Knowing this didn’t surprise him; in fact, it made perfect sense. Qin Zhao’s demeanor was far different from that of an ordinary villager. Even if he didn’t come from a scholarly or wealthy family, he was at least well-educated.

Being an outsider, and one with an unknown background and poor health, it was no wonder he faced rejection from the villagers.

People are naturally wary of outsiders, especially in such isolated mountain villages.

After placing the herbs in the house, Lin Lao’er suddenly remembered something, “Oh, by the way, did you hear that the Chen family has been arguing about dividing their property these past few days?”

Qin Zhao frowned slightly, “Dividing the family?”

“Yes.” Lin Lao’er sighed, “The old Madam Chen had a stroke last year and has been bedridden ever since. They’ve brought in several doctors, but none have been able to help. The Chen family is one of the wealthiest in Linxi Village, and those younger family members have been eyeing the estate, just waiting for the old lady to pass away.”

Hmm?

What does this have to do with Qin Zhao?

Jing Li was puzzled when he heard Lin Lao’er say, “You rented this house from Old Madam Chen. If they split the family, then this place might…”

“In any case, just keep an eye out in the coming days.”

Qin Zhao lowered his eyes in thought for a moment before thanking him, “I understand. Thank you for the warning.”

Lin Lao’er, needing to get back home, didn’t stay long.

Once he was gone, Jing Li finally poked his head out to survey the house.

Just as it appeared from the outside, the interior of the house was extremely simple, with everything visible at a glance.

It was a small two-room mud house. Upon entering the front door, there was the table where Jing Li was currently located, along with two chairs. Apart from these, the only other furniture consisted of a few low storage cabinets in the corners.

To the right of the entrance was a stove area, with a few small medicine jars placed beside it. On the left was an even smaller room, with no door—just a cloth curtain hanging to block the view.

This must be the bedroom.

The air was filled with a faint medicinal fragrance, just like the scent on Qin Zhao, which was quite pleasant.

Qin Zhao stood with his back to Jing Li, bending over the stove to unpack the freshly bought herbs.

He hadn’t purchased a ready-made prescription from a clinic, but rather a selection of loose herbs. Qin Zhao skillfully sorted and prepared the herbs, quickly dividing them into several small portions and repackaging them.

He then poured one portion into a medicine jar to soak, and after finishing that, he uncovered a large pot on the stove.

A delicious aroma immediately wafted through the air.

Jing Li’s stomach growled audibly.

He had been in this world for three days and hadn’t eaten a thing.

It wasn’t that there was nothing to eat. Over the past few days, he had been drifting along the river, and for a fish, the aquatic plants, small shrimp, and bugs in the river were all edible.

But Jing Li’s soul was still that of a human, and he simply couldn’t bring himself to eat those things.

As a result, he had been starving for several days.

Jing Li watched longingly as Qin Zhao took a golden piece of flatbread and sat down at the table. He wagged his tail eagerly, splashing a bit of water onto the table.

Qin Zhao asked, “Do you want some too?”

Jing Li’s tail wagged even more energetically.

Qin Zhao: “If I give it all to you, what will I eat?”

Jing Li paused.

That’s true—Qin Zhao, being an outsider with no one to rely on and living in such a place, probably didn’t have much food. He might even struggle to feed himself, let alone have extra to share.

Being rescued was already an incredible stroke of luck for him; he couldn’t be so greedy.

But… he was really, really hungry…

The little koi’s mood visibly sank.

Qin Zhao turned his head to observe the small koi in the bucket, finding it quite amusing.

From the moment he encountered this fish, he had felt something was unusual. Its fear and attempts to escape during the slaughter, its seeking help from a human—these were all things that ordinary fish couldn’t do. And throughout the journey, this fish clearly understood human speech and interacted with him.

Could it be that he had accidentally rescued a fish with some kind of spirit?

With this thought, Qin Zhao lowered his eyes and broke off a small piece of the flatbread, tossing it into the water.

Jing Li had already sunk to the bottom of the bucket but couldn’t resist swimming back up when he smelled the aroma of the flatbread. He glanced at Qin Zhao, then at the floating piece of flatbread, and finally, unable to resist the temptation of the food, he took a bite.

The flatbread was made from millet flour.

The millet flour wasn’t ground very finely, so you could still feel the grainy texture of the millet. The batter was mixed with a bit of crushed red dates, and after being steamed, it had a soft yet firm texture. Even though no seasoning was added, it had a natural, sweet taste from the grain itself.

Jing Li thought it was the best thing he had ever eaten.

The little koi happily chewed on the food, his cheeks puffing out, and his fins swayed joyfully.

“Eat slowly, there’s more if you need it,” Qin Zhao said softly, resting his chin on his hand. “Get a bit fatter, and you’ll be ready for the pot.”

!!!

Jing Li was so startled that he choked, his fins flailing as he spat out a huge bubble.

R-ready for the pot???

This man actually intended to eat him!

Qin Zhao broke off another piece of flatbread and tossed it into the water, a slight smile on his lips. “Why did you stop eating?”

Jing Li shrank back, refusing to touch the food.

As long as he didn’t eat, he wouldn’t get fat, and then he wouldn’t end up in the pot.

Jing Li was determined.

Qin Zhao watched the little koi’s reaction and became even more certain that this fish could understand him. However, he didn’t point it out. Instead, he reached into the water and gently pushed the floating piece of flatbread towards Jing Li.

“Go ahead and eat,” Qin Zhao said calmly. “I was just teasing you earlier; I don’t like eating fish.”

Jing Li remained still, clearly showing his distrust.

Qin Zhao withdrew his gaze, no longer paying attention, and started eating his own meal.

Even his way of eating was very elegant, chewing slowly and carefully, as if he were savoring some rare delicacy instead of a simple piece of millet flatbread.

As Jing Li watched him…

He felt even hungrier.

This man is so good-looking; he probably wouldn’t lie, right?

Jing Li swayed his tail, swam up, and quickly snatched the flatbread, sinking back to the bottom of the bucket to eat. After finishing the piece of flatbread in secret, he surfaced again, still wanting more.

Qin Zhao broke off another small piece and tossed it to him, and Jing Li carefully took it and retreated to the bottom of the bucket to eat it.

It was as if, as long as Qin Zhao didn’t see him, it didn’t count as eating.

Silly fish.

Qin Zhao lowered his eyes, hiding the hint of amusement in them.

And so, the two of them shared the palm-sized piece of millet flatbread.

Qin Zhao fetched another piece from the pot, but when he returned to the table, he found the little koi with his head tilted, staring at him expectantly.

Qin Zhao said, “You can’t eat any more, or you’ll get sick.”

I’m not full yet.

The little koi unhappily flicked his tail twice and opened his mouth towards Qin Zhao.

More.

Qin Zhao had no choice but to break off a small piece and give it to him.

…

In the afternoon, Qin Zhao set the medicine to simmer over a low flame but soon heard the sound of water splashing constantly in the bucket.

He walked over to find the little koi swimming frantically back and forth, splashing water all over the edges of the bucket.

“What’s wrong with you now?” Qin Zhao asked.

Jing Li flipped over, showing his belly, and pitifully patted his now round belly with his fin.

Then he continued swimming in circles.

Oh no, I really ate too much…

Thandar: New novel. Farming, BL, and MPREG as requested. Hope you’ll like it ☺️

xxx

The unfamiliar sensation of suffocation jolted Jing Li awake from his sleep.

He opened his eyes and was immediately met with the sight of a gleaming machete. The blade reflected a cold, menacing light, showing his current appearance in its reflection.

— His entire body was covered in bright red scales, his clear red eyes still held a hint of confusion, and his thin, almost transparent fins lightly fluttered by his belly.

He was a palm-sized koi fish.

Jing Li quickly realized his situation—he was lying on a chopping board. The board, worn from years of use, had a lingering fishy smell that was nauseating. Not far from him lay a blood-stained fish head.

Ahhhhh——!

Jing Li tried to scream, but no sound came out. In the next moment, the machete was forcefully pulled out and came down swiftly—

Jing Li slapped his tail hard against the chopping board, causing his body to leap up, narrowly avoiding the descending blade. The machete embedded itself deeply into the chopping board, just inches from Jing Li’s head.

He landed back on the board, his fish body heaving with the remnants of fear.

That was close.

“Huh, this fish is still alive?” The fishmonger pulled out the machete and mumbled to himself.

When the fish was delivered, it hadn’t moved, so he assumed it was already dead.

Live fish fetched a higher price, but in recent years, business had been bad. The nearby villages were all getting poorer, and dead fish were actually selling better than live ones.

The fishmonger didn’t think much more about it. He pressed down on the fish’s body with one hand and raised the machete again.

This fish stall was set up at the entrance of the market, with an outdoor stand. Behind a coarse cloth curtain was the area where the fish were killed and salted.

It was still early, and the villagers hadn’t arrived yet. The market was quiet, except for the constant noise coming from the back of the fish stall, which annoyed the stall owner’s wife: “Yu Lao’er, are you slaughtering pigs?”

She lifted the coarse cloth curtain and saw something flying straight at her.

“Oh!”

The stall owner’s wife dodged to the side, and the object landed squarely on the fish stall.

Jing Li was dizzy from the fall, but before he could catch his breath, he saw the fishmonger coming after him with the machete: “Don’t run!”

Only a fool wouldn’t run!

Jing Li first leaped with a splash into the water basin beside the fish stall, taking a deep breath in the water before springing out again. Water splashed everywhere as Jing Li dodged left and right, narrowly avoiding the fishmonger’s blade each time.

The fish stall erupted into chaos, with pots, bowls, and pans crashing to the ground. The fishmonger, panting heavily from the chase, hadn’t even touched a single fish scale.

“This fish… has it turned into a spirit?” The stall owner’s wife was dumbfounded and muttered to herself.

It’s not that he’s turned into a spirit; he was human all along!

Jing Li did his best to hide beside the wooden frame supporting the fish stall, his tail angrily slapping the edge of the counter.

Since he woke up three days ago, he’s been stuck in this wretched form.

Jing Li had always been unlucky. Whether it was cars breaking down, subway accidents, or even emergency landings on flights, he seemed to attract misfortune. Not to mention the small stuff, like tripping on flat ground, losing money, or choking on water.

But he never imagined that simply falling asleep at home would result in him transmigrating to this awful place—and worse, turning into a fish.

And not just any fish; he had turned into a koi fish.

He learned this from the two people he encountered when he first arrived. At that time, he was placed inside a water-filled clay pot, being transported by an ox cart.

From their conversation, Jing Li gathered that he was a koi fish said to bring good fortune, and a powerful figure in the city had taken a liking to him, willing to pay a thousand taels to buy him.

Such tricks could only fool those with more money than sense.

It’s been the same throughout history.

If he really were a koi fish that brought good fortune, would he have ended up being sold like this?

He was more likely to bring bad luck.

Sure enough, the ox cart overturned halfway, and Jing Li fell into a small river ditch nearby, regaining his freedom.

But that freedom didn’t last long. After another ordinary nap, he woke up to find himself captured and brought here.

He must have owed the heavens a great deal in his past life.

Jing Li momentarily lost focus and didn’t notice the machete coming at him again.

Unable to dodge in time, a few scales from his side were brutally sliced off by the sharp blade!

The pain—!

Jing Li was so terrified by the pain that he almost burst into tears on the spot. But fish can’t cry; instead, he reflexively bounced off the fish stall, flying out and landing with a smack against someone’s chest.

The area where his scales had been peeled off felt like a layer of skin had been torn away, burning with intense pain. Jing Li had no strength left; his soft fish tail trembled weakly as his body began to slide down.

But a hand caught him.

Soon after, he caught a whiff of a pleasant medicinal fragrance.

The hand didn’t feel like that of a farmer—it was smooth and delicate. The fingertips gently curled around him, supporting his body, and the person holding him let out a soft “hmm” of surprise.

Jing Li lifted his gaze and met a pair of calm, deep eyes.

For a moment, his mind went blank, and even the pain in his body seemed less intense.

He had never seen someone so handsome.

The man was dressed in a light blue robe, his figure slender and a bit frail, exuding a clean and refined scholarly air. The stitching on the robe’s cuffs was somewhat coarse, and the fabric wasn’t particularly fine, yet even in such simple clothing, his innate noble temperament couldn’t be concealed.

He lowered his eyes, and the sunlight fell on his slightly pale face, highlighting his finely sculpted features.

“Thank you, thank you, this fish was so hard to catch…” The fishmonger didn’t even bother to put down the knife, quickly running out. But when he recognized the person in front of him, the smile on his face vanished. “Oh, it’s Qin Zhao. Here to get medicine from town again?”

His tone instantly turned cold, laced with sarcasm and disdain.

Jing Li was taken aback.

The man’s gentle and refined demeanor was far from the kind that would provoke dislike.

On the contrary, his features were exceptionally good-looking. The line from his brow bone to his jaw was perfectly sculpted, his nose was high and straight, and even the curve of his thin lips was just right. If there was any flaw, it might be that the shape of his eyes was too sharp, adding a hint of distance.

But even this minor flaw was completely overshadowed by his gentle and calm temperament.

There was no reason for anyone to dislike him.

Jing Li looked the man up and down and quickly realized the issue.

The man’s complexion was poor—terribly so. There were faint dark circles under his eyes, and his lips were pale, standing out starkly against his fair skin.

He looked as if all the energy had been drained from him, leaving only a beautiful but lifeless shell.

So, he’s a sickly person.

…and the kind that doesn’t know how many days he has left.

The man seemed unconcerned about the fishmonger’s attitude, or perhaps he was used to it. He simply nodded lightly.

The fishmonger, uninterested in further conversation, said, “Give me back the fish.”

Jing Li shrank back in the man’s palm.

He hid his wet head between the man’s fingers, his trembling tail gently wrapping around the man’s wrist, as if in a plea, or perhaps to curry favor.

Please don’t hand him over.

Qin Zhao looked down at the little fish in his palm.

The fish was no larger than the size of a palm, with bright red scales that had a faint golden sheen around the edges. Its fins were so thin they were almost transparent, with delicate and intricate patterns visible in the sunlight.

The soft tail gently tapped against his wrist, tickling slightly.

Seeing that he hadn’t moved, the fishmonger sneered, “What, you’re not thinking of buying this fish, are you? You barely have enough money for medicine, and you think you can afford a fish?”

Qin Zhao didn’t respond.

Jing Li felt the fingers holding him loosen slightly, and his heart sank.

There’s no way this man would buy him.

From his clothing, it was clear that the man’s financial situation was poor, possibly even dire. He held Jing Li in one hand while the other clutched a few packets of medicine.

Medicine in ancient times was expensive…

Sure enough, the man stepped forward and placed Jing Li back into the water basin by the fish stall.

Jing Li curled up in dejection.

He was injured, with no strength left to escape. Even if he managed to get away, where could he go? He was a fish—without water, he couldn’t move, and he wouldn’t survive for long.

He wasn’t a koi fish after all; he was just an unlucky wretch.

Suddenly, a clear, pleasant voice came from above: “Is this money enough? I’d like to buy it.”

Jing Li looked up and saw the man placing a few copper coins on the fish stall.

xxx

A man dressed in a blue robe walked along the mountain path.

In the early spring, the morning air in the mountains was still cold, yet Qin Zhao had a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

He carried a few packets of herbs in his left hand and a small wooden bucket filled with water in his right. Inside the bucket, a bright red fish tail flicked across the water’s surface, revealing a small head.

Jing Li peeked at him through the water.

Jing Li wasn’t sure how long they had been walking since leaving the market, but it had to be at least two hours. Even he would have struggled to walk for two hours on mountain roads.

Especially for someone like Qin Zhao, who was so frail.

Jing Li swished his tail in the water.

But…

Finally, he was saved.

It seemed that what those people said earlier wasn’t a lie—being captured and brought to the fish stall only to meet someone willing to save his life. Maybe he really was a lucky koi fish—

A sudden “crack” sounded from somewhere, and Jing Li instinctively felt something was wrong. He then saw the wooden bucket’s handle snap with a “pop.”

The small wooden bucket fell to the ground, and most of the water splashed out instantly.

Jing Li: “…”

He took back what he just thought; he really was just an unlucky wretch.

The spilled water soaked the hem of Qin Zhao’s robe, causing him to pause and look down.

Today, after buying the medicine, Qin Zhao only had enough money left for the fare to return to the village. But because he bought this fish, he now had to walk back to the village.

It was already difficult enough for him to walk, and now the bucket’s handle had broken…

Who knew how long it would take him to get back to the village now?

But Qin Zhao only slightly moved his eyes before bending down nonchalantly to pick up the bucket.

He still walked steadily, and from the bottom of the bucket, Jing Li couldn’t even see any change in Qin Zhao’s expression.

But he could clearly feel that the hands holding the bucket were trembling slightly, and the man’s steps had noticeably slowed.

A mountain breeze suddenly blew by, and Qin Zhao abruptly paused, dropping the bucket heavily to the ground.

He turned his head and began to cough violently.

He coughed so hard that his thin back bent deeply, as if he was about to cough up his internal organs.

Jing Li was startled by his appearance and anxiously looked up at him.

He couldn’t see Qin Zhao’s face, only the fingers gripping the edge of the bucket. The knuckles were taut and white, trembling uncontrollably with each cough.

How could this man be so severely ill?

It was all his fault. If it weren’t for him being a burden, this man wouldn’t have to struggle so much.

Jing Li felt a pang of guilt.

Since childhood, anyone who got involved with him always ended up facing all sorts of bad luck.

It seemed this man would be affected by his misfortune as well.

Wasn’t he supposed to be a lucky koi fish? So why hadn’t he brought any good fortune to this man yet?

Even if it was just making his life a little easier…

Jing Li thought dejectedly.

Qin Zhao caught his breath, and after resting for a moment, he picked up the bucket with Jing Li and continued walking. They hadn’t gone far when the sound of cart wheels came from behind.

“Hey, isn’t that Qin Zhao?” A farmer driving an ox cart spotted Qin Zhao from a distance and called out loudly, “Qin Zhao, what are you doing here?”

Qin Zhao straightened up and turned around, “Oh, it’s Uncle Lin.”

The farmer stopped the ox cart in front of him, looked him up and down, and said, “Went to town to get medicine? What a coincidence, I just met a wealthy customer on the road who bought all the firewood I was carrying.”

“Get on, get on. I’ll give you a ride back. With that frail body of yours, who knows how long it’ll take you to walk!”

The entire house, from start to finish, was completed in just one morning.

Jiang Lin stood in the courtyard, surveying the space. It was spacious, bright, and even somewhat attractive. By his standards, the courtyard was definitely not bad.

But the demons were far more excited than he was.

The cat demon clapped her hands and exclaimed, “Is this the house we built? It’s so big and beautiful!”

A rabbit demon’s shiny black eyes were fixed on the large bed in the bedroom.

The bed was covered with thick, clean animal skins, fluffy and soft, and he had an overwhelming urge to revert to his original form and roll around on it.

Of course, reason held him back—the rabbit demon still remembered that this was the lord’s house, and he couldn’t just do as he pleased.

However, the lord had said that all the demons who were here today would be able to build their own houses soon.

So, it wouldn’t be long before he had his own house.

Jiang Lin noticed the longing in the demons’ eyes and said, “Unfortunately, due to some technical limitations, there are many comfortable and convenient things I couldn’t create.”

The demons were amazed. “There are even more comfortable things?”

“Of course,” Jiang Lin sighed. “These are just the basics.”

The demons couldn’t even imagine it.

But they didn’t need to think that far ahead; the house before them had already far exceeded their expectations.

Jiang Lin checked the time and remembered his promise to provide lunch for the demons. It was about time to start preparing.

He looked at the supplies in his jade space.

There were mostly various types of fruits and vegetables, but none in large quantities—just a few of each.

Jiang Lin roughly counted, finding dozens of different fruits and even more types of vegetables, totaling over a hundred.

This was a habit he had developed in his previous life during the apocalypse—knowing how useful his wood-element spiritual power was, he had learned that as long as vegetables had roots, he could stimulate their growth, and the same went for fruits. Whenever he encountered fresh produce, he would instinctively pick some as a backup.

But when it came to seasonings for cooking, the situation was different.

He could only occasionally find and stockpile items from warehouse stores or supermarkets.

The jade space could keep food from spoiling, but in the end, resources were limited in the apocalypse. The most abundant seasonings he had were essentials like oil and salt.

As for things like pepper powder, chili flakes, and mixed spices, they were in short supply, and he didn’t have the raw materials to make more, nor did he know how to blend them.

In short, each use depleted his stock.

Jiang Lin thought to himself: It looks like after some time, I’ll need to leave White Tiger Ridge and explore the outside world.

After all, this was a mythological world, and he wasn’t sure how far human civilization had developed beyond the ridge.

Before him were forty or fifty demons, each with a large appetite.

Cooking a pot of chicken soup like last time was out of the question—even though he had cooking utensils, they were all lightweight and portable, only suitable for small meals of ten people or fewer.

Given the circumstances, Jiang Lin decided: Barbecue it is!

The demons cheered when they heard that food was being prepared.

Jiang Lin instructed them to prepare their game according to their appetite and to clean it thoroughly.

As for himself, he had a small goat before him.

He skewered it with a large, sturdy branch and placed it over the fire.

Jiang Lin handed out seasonings to the demons, encouraging them to try cooking for themselves. The demons embraced this with great enthusiasm, finding the idea of personally making delicious food to be quite magical. They squatted down in their spots, carefully mimicking Jiang Lin’s actions.

When Jiang Lin brushed the seasoning onto the meat, they followed suit. When Jiang Lin turned the meat to ensure even cooking, they also flipped their meat in unison.

The fat slowly began to render, collecting into golden droplets that hung on the roasted, golden-brown surface of the meat before finally succumbing to gravity and falling off.

Pop!

The fire crackled as the fat dripped into the flames, releasing an enticing aroma.

Most of the demons had keen senses of smell, and by this point, many of them were already sniffing the air repeatedly, eyes fixed on the food in front of them with eager anticipation.

Jiang Lin took out a small knife, but since he didn’t have enough knives for everyone, he instructed the demons to use their magic to shape stones into thin blades to serve as knives.

Besides the game, Jiang Lin also prepared many leafy greens, placing them on clean, simple wooden trays to balance out the richness of the meat.

However, it was clear that apart from a few herbivorous demons, the others just grabbed a handful, chewed it, found it tasteless, and quickly set it aside, uninterested.

Jiang Lin sliced into a piece of meat, checked it, and said, “The surface should be cooked by now. Since the game is large, let’s eat while we continue to roast it.”

The demons, who had been barely holding back, cheered as soon as Jiang Lin gave the go-ahead and eagerly used their stone knives to slice the meat.

Their learning ability was impressive. Even though they had never eaten this way or used knives before, they imitated Jiang Lin’s movements quite well—except for the dog-headed demon, whose underdeveloped brain struggled with the task.

“Wow, this tastes amazing!”

“The meat I’ve eaten before never had much flavor, but this is so flavorful!”

“I didn’t know that cooked meat could taste so much better than raw meat!”

“…”

Jiang Lin watched these easily satisfied demons and smiled, quietly forming a seal with his fingers.

A breeze carried the aroma further into the distance.

Qinghuan, a green serpent, was once at the top of the food chain in this forest before becoming a demon. Blessed with high natural talent, he quickly grew in strength and became one of the dominant figures of White Tiger Ridge.

Apart from him, there was a mad bull and a beautifully patterned female leopard.

None of them were willing to submit to the others, and their powers were evenly matched. Each claimed their own territory, with occasional conflicts, but they mostly coexisted peacefully.

That was until the White Bone Spirit awakened.

The day the White Bone Spirit became a demon, the entire White Tiger Ridge was shrouded in overwhelming demonic energy, causing all creatures to tremble under the oppressive aura.

The birds and beasts aside, the demons who had gained enlightenment knew that White Tiger Ridge had welcomed a powerful new demon.

Qinghuan observed the White Bone Spirit for a while, noticing that although it had a violent temperament, its intelligence was rather average, and it didn’t seem interested in claiming the title of king for now.

But he knew this was only temporary. Powerful demons usually had domineering personalities, and once the White Bone Spirit decided to claim the throne of White Tiger Ridge, what would become of the smaller dominions like his?

Qinghuan visited the mad bull and the female leopard, and the three of them uncharacteristically sat down peacefully to discuss the situation.

However, before they could come to any conclusions, they heard Jiang Lin’s proclamation:

“From this day forth, I, the White Bone Spirit, am the lord of White Tiger Ridge.”

The three demons exchanged glances and decided to wait and see what would happen.

During the day, Qinghuan, with his keen senses, lazily coiled in his cave, overheard two small demons passing by excitedly, vaguely discussing things like “food” and “houses.”

Qinghuan paid it no mind—after all, he, the great Green Serpent King, had never lacked food or shelter.

That was until a faint, tantalizing aroma wafted in with the breeze.

Qinghuan: !

What…what was that smell?

It seemed like there was nothing wrong with his reasoning.

But…

The system was a bit conflicted. “Isn’t the most exciting part of this world centered around Sun Wukong and the Journey to the West? If you stay here in White Tiger Ridge, won’t it be really boring?”

“Boring?”

Jiang Lin shook his head. “How could it be boring?”

He had already had enough of those heart-pounding, life-and-death days, constantly being chased by zombies without a moment to catch his breath.

“Now, I have a peaceful and stable place, even if it’s a bit poor. But it’s rich in resources and inhabited by simple, hardworking natives. I can enjoy the process of building this place from scratch while peacefully cultivating and growing stronger. Why wouldn’t I be happy?”

The system wanted to say more, but Jiang Lin suddenly interjected, “System, you reconstituted my soul and signed a contract with me, allowing me to cultivate again and experience different worlds. At first glance, it seems like I’m getting all the benefits. But I know you’re not doing this out of charity, right?”

He confidently stated, “I’m doing these tasks—or rather, completing the tasks you mentioned—because you must also be gaining something or achieving some goal, isn’t that so?”

The system quickly admitted, “Yes.”

“Since this is a transaction,” Jiang Lin continued, “my responsibility is simply to complete the tasks. As for the process, we can discuss it, but I hope you won’t interfere with my approach.”

The system realized that although this host always appeared gentle and harmless with a constant smile, deep down, he was quite determined.

After a moment of thought, the system asked, “Can you guarantee that you’ll complete the tasks?”

Jiang Lin countered, “Can you guarantee that following your plan of sticking close to someone powerful will ensure the tasks are completed?”

The system hesitated. “No, I can’t.”

“Exactly,” Jiang Lin replied. “Even while doing these tasks, I prefer to live life my way. I’ll do my best to avoid risks and steer clear of the original fate of this body.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Jiang Lin felt a sudden clarity in his mind. At the same time, an overwhelming surge of wood-element spiritual energy rushed toward him.

Jiang Lin: ?

He was taken aback, realizing that the Nine Spirits Technique was automatically circulating within him, and the pothos vine on the cave wall was happily swaying.

Had he just achieved a breakthrough?

Without time to ponder further, Jiang Lin closed his eyes and immersed himself in cultivation.

The system, watching the scene with mixed emotions, eventually muttered quietly, “Alright, I’ll trust that your judgment is better than mine. I’ll stop interfering.”

The next morning, Jiang Lin opened his eyes, his gaze sharp and bright.

It turned out that his spontaneous words the day before had unintentionally led to a significant advancement in his cultivation, bringing him to the peak of the first layer of the Nine Spirits Technique.

As he sat cross-legged in the cave, he could distinctly sense a heightened awareness of the wood-element spiritual energy around him and a deeper understanding of plants and vegetation.

But the biggest surprise was still yet to come.

“Master!” a crisp child’s voice rang out beside him.

Jiang Lin was startled and turned his head.

The pothos vines covering the walls of the cave rustled, and small white flowers began blooming in perfect sync.

“Qingluo?” Jiang Lin asked in surprise, looking at the plant. “Is that you speaking?”

The vines swayed even more vigorously, and the clear child’s voice responded, “Yes, it’s Qingluo. Qingluo can talk now!”

A wave of information flowed into Jiang Lin’s mind.

His spiritual plant, Qingluo, was deeply connected to him. With Jiang Lin’s breakthrough, Qingluo also gained significant benefits.

She had already developed intelligence beyond that of an ordinary plant, and this time, she made a qualitative leap, stepping into the ranks of demon cultivation.

Given time, she might even be able to take on a physical form and cultivate on her own.

As a symbiotic entity with her master, Qingluo’s ability to cultivate independently would also benefit Jiang Lin.

“Congratulations, Qingluo,” Jiang Lin said with a smile.

Qingluo happily swayed her vines.

Jiang Lin sensed someone approaching the cave entrance and said, “You stay here and focus on your cultivation. I’m going out for a bit.”

Qingluo replied, “Yes, Master.”

When Jiang Lin walked out of the cave, he found that all the demons had arrived.

Some, like the impatient cat demon, had even brought their game along.

Jiang Lin looked at the mountain pheasant she was holding: “…”

Fortunately, the cat demon remembered Jiang Lin’s casual remark about freshly slaughtered game being better, so the pheasants were still clucking.

The old monkey demon, being a bit more thoughtful, had brought along some fruits with the help of a few of his kin to offer to Jiang Lin.

However, the fruits from White Tiger Ridge…

Probably because they were wild and uncultivated, not only did they look unappealing, but their taste left much to be desired.

Jiang Lin accepted them and set them aside without any intention of eating them.

He counted the demons present and found that all those who had come the previous night were here again, along with some who hadn’t heard about the meeting earlier. Today, they had also shown up.

The newcomers were mostly demons with forms like rabbits, goats, and foxes.

This was pretty much what Jiang Lin had expected.

Demons whose original forms were herbivores or weaker animals usually had more docile personalities after transforming.

On the other hand, demons like pythons or leopards, whose original forms were predators, tended to be stronger and more difficult to manage after transforming.

Jiang Lin knew that those demons were still watching and waiting to see what he would do next.

He smiled slightly: If they want to watch, let them watch.

Jiang Lin had already chosen the location for the house, in a valley at the center of White Tiger Ridge.

The valley had a water source outside and a waterfall at the back, with a spacious plain inside and a peaceful, picturesque landscape.

After selecting the site, he began directing the demons to work.

This was when the benefits of having demon workers became apparent—they had great strength, endurance, and could use magic.

Chopping trees, cutting planks, laying the foundation…

In less than an hour, the outline of the house had taken shape.

Jiang Lin taught them how to furnish the house. He wasn’t one for fancy aesthetics, so everything was kept simple.

In the bedroom, there was just a bed and a table.

The bed was covered with thick, warm animal skins, and the floor was paved with smooth bluestone.

The other rooms were even simpler. The windows were installed, and the most basic furniture—tables and chairs—were placed inside.

Despite the simplicity, the chairs with backs sparked curiosity among the demons.

Normally, these demons would sit in any manner, even rolling on the ground, but now they were curiously sitting properly in the chairs.

The only part that could be considered beautiful was the courtyard.

The fence was made from shrubs that the pheasant demon and her companions had gathered, complete with roots and fresh green leaves. They were neatly planted in the ground.

For added beauty, the pheasant demon had specifically found some vines with brightly colored flowers in the valley and entwined them around the fence.

The tree in the courtyard was one Jiang Lin had found at the back of the valley. It was an over 800-year-old ancient cloud-crowned tree that hadn’t encountered any opportunities to become a spirit, but Jiang Lin thought it looked lush and pleasing, so he transplanted it into the courtyard.

As he planned to cultivate there daily, Jiang Lin figured that the tree, being exposed to the natural spiritual energy of the heavens and earth, might also gain a bit of fortune in the future.

The demons shared their thoughts, one after another.

Jiang Lin understood their concerns and made a decision, clapping his hands: “Alright, tomorrow you all come over, and we’ll start building houses!”

“Building houses?”

The dog-headed demon asked foolishly, “What does building houses mean, woof?”

Because of his dog’s head, he still retained some canine habits when he spoke.

Jiang Lin explained, “It’s a place to live. Big, spacious, warm. Once you have a house, you won’t have to worry about the wind, sun, or rain anymore.”

“Is it really that good?”

“Is it like a cave?”

Jiang Lin thought for a moment, realizing that this group of demons might not be able to imagine what a house looked like.

So he said, “Watch this.”

He cast a spell, and the demons saw a flat, square building rise from the ground before them.

Green vines and branches formed a beautiful courtyard, with a simple, square wooden house inside.

Considering the current materials and skill level in White Tiger Ridge, Jiang Lin used illusion magic to create a very basic wooden house.

“Come in and take a look,” Jiang Lin said as he led the way inside.

The demons exchanged glances, and the cat demon was the first to follow him.

As she entered the courtyard, the cat demon noticed small yellow flowers on the fence. Curious, she reached out to pick one and brought it to her nose to smell.

But as soon as the flower left the vine, it turned into a wisp of white mist and vanished instantly.

Ahead, Jiang Lin’s amused voice came: “This house is created by magic, so everything in it is fake.”

Magic can create anything in the world, but in essence, it’s still just an illusion—intangible and without substance. So this illusionary house could give the demons a clear idea of what a real house looked like, but it couldn’t actually be used as a shelter—it was, after all, just an illusion and couldn’t truly protect against the elements.

The cat demon stuck out her tongue and quietly stopped touching things, her round eyes looking around with interest.

The courtyard was simply furnished, following Jiang Lin’s personal preferences. The ground was paved with smooth bluestone slabs, and in the southeast corner stood a giant tree whose shade covered almost half the courtyard. Beneath the tree was a stone table and several stone chairs.

Even though the courtyard was simple, it was enough to amaze the demons.

They usually lived in the wild mountains, and while White Tiger Ridge had its own natural beauty, it had never been shaped by human aesthetics, making it appear somewhat rough.

But here in Jiang Lin’s illusion, even the neatly trimmed, person-high vine-covered fence brought the demons great joy.

The pheasant demon, who had a particular love for beauty, was especially enchanted, her eyes shining brightly as if she couldn’t wait to build one herself.

Then there were the tables and chairs they had never seen before, and the smooth stone slabs on the ground, clean and polished like a surface of water. The cat demon, delighted, rolled happily on the ground.

Jiang Lin kept an eye on the demons’ reactions, and seeing their enthusiasm, he felt satisfied.

After a brief moment of thought, he said, “This courtyard is very simple, but if you like it, you can create many different styles.”

With that, he focused his thoughts.

The smooth stone floor in the courtyard disappeared, replaced by a lush, soft lawn. A small path made of pebbles extended from the courtyard gate to the front door of the house.

He then pointed at the giant tree, and a branch extended outward.

Two thick vines hung down from the branch, adorned with colorful flowers. Near the ground, the vines intertwined to form a seat.

“This is called a swing.”

The demons: “Wow!”

Jiang Lin smiled slightly and then led them inside the house…

After they had toured the entire place, Jiang Lin waved his hand, dispersing the illusion. As they stood on the empty ground, the longing in the demons’ eyes was almost palpable.

The cat demon eagerly asked, “My lord! When can we start building the houses?”

Jiang Lin replied, “We can start tomorrow. Come here tomorrow, and I’ll show you how to build them. The condition is, you work for me.”

“Work for you? What does that mean?”

Jiang Lin: “…It means you have to help me build my house first.”

The demons understood immediately and responded in unison, “Of course, of course, it’s only right to build the lord’s house first.”

“Yes, yes.”

“Of course we should build for the lord first.”

In the minds of these demons, the lord was their king, so naturally, the best things should be made for him first.

Jiang Lin: “…”

These demons were so simple-minded that Jiang Lin almost felt guilty for taking advantage of them.

So, after some thought, he added, “As payment, I’ll provide food while you work on my house.”

The demons who had tasted Jiang Lin’s roasted pheasant immediately lit up with excitement. “Food, you’ll provide food!”

“Is it the same delicious pheasant the lord made last time?”

Jiang Lin smiled, “Pheasant is fine, fish is fine, anything you like is fine—as long as you bring the game. I’ll teach you how to cook it.”

“Alright!”

The demons happily went back home.

The lord told them to get a good rest and think about how they wanted their courtyards to look.

But most of them were more focused on deciding what game to hunt for tomorrow.

After the demons left, Jiang Lin returned to the cave to cultivate.

The system, which had been silently observing his actions, finally couldn’t hold back anymore and asked, “Host, what exactly are you doing?”

Jiang Lin: “What do you mean?”

The system hastily explained, “According to the original plot, you’re supposed to be beaten to death by Sun Wukong with his Golden-Hooped Rod!”

Jiang Lin: “So?”

“So, according to the timeline, Sun Wukong has already been born, mastered the 72 transformations, and is now ruling as king in the Flower Fruit Mountain.”

The system suggested, “You should go to Flower Fruit Mountain now, build a good relationship with Sun Wukong, and stick close to him. That way, he won’t kill you later.”

Jiang Lin: “???”

He couldn’t quite understand the system’s logic.

“Am I not happy being a free demon here in White Tiger Ridge? Isn’t it comfortable to be the king here? Why would I want to go to someone else’s territory and become their lackey?”

Did he really look like someone who would be a lackey?

The system protested, “But Sun Wukong will kill you later!”

Jiang Lin scoffed, “System, are you underestimating the Great Sage, or are you underestimating me?”

The system was taken aback.

Jiang Lin continued, “Why did the Great Sage defeat the White Bone Spirit three times? Wasn’t it because the White Bone Spirit wanted to eat Tang Sanzang’s flesh and had committed numerous heinous crimes?”

He pointed to himself, “I don’t eat people or harm them. We’re both demons—why would he want to kill me?”

He stretched lazily, “I’ll stay here as the king of White Tiger Ridge, peacefully cultivating and growing stronger, while training these naive demons. I’ll develop our food culture, work on infrastructure, and turn White Tiger Ridge into the happiest place for demons. Isn’t that much better than being someone’s lackey?”

Of course, if someone were to rashly enter and mistake these pothos vines for ordinary plants, they would certainly suffer greatly.

Jiang Lin knew better than anyone the stubbornness and lethality of these pothos vines.

Satisfied, he nodded, then sat cross-legged on the ground and began to cultivate.

Because of his experiences in the apocalypse and Xue Nan’s betrayal, he was more aware than anyone of the importance of strength.

He had previously discussed with the system that while he could enhance the White Bone Spirit’s power through cultivation in this world, that power could only be used here, under the identity of the White Bone Spirit.

But the “Nine Spirits Technique” was different.

This was a cultivation method bound to his soul. Any strength he gained from cultivating the Nine Spirits Technique belonged to Jiang Lin himself. And thanks to the jade space, his spirit plants could also travel with him across different worlds.

Seeing how quickly Jiang Lin started cultivating, the system silently observed, forming an idea in its mind.

Time always flies when you’re cultivating.

By the time Jiang Lin sensed a presence approaching the White Bone Cave, the sky had already darkened.

Recalling his earlier words, Jiang Lin got up and walked out of the cave.

The first to arrive were the crow and the pheasant demons, followed by seven or eight more figures behind them.

Jiang Lin glanced at them and wasn’t surprised to see that they were all bird demons.

Soon after, the cat demon arrived with a few of her companions—one was a demon with antlers on its head, another was a squirrel demon.

And then there was one who stood out from the crowd of humanoid demons—a demon with a very distinct appearance: a human-shaped body topped with a real dog’s head.

Among all these demons, this one’s peculiar appearance was unique enough to make even Jiang Lin take several more glances.

The cat demon, worried that Jiang Lin might not like it, quickly explained, “The dog head didn’t mean to look like this. His transformation process was different from ours. He ate a centuries-old spiritual ginseng to become a demon, but during the transformation, he didn’t have enough demon power, so…”

Jiang Lin understood: Normal demons accumulate spiritual energy step by step, and although becoming a demon involves some fortune, it’s usually a gradual process.

In comparison, the dog-headed demon had taken a shortcut—one that didn’t go quite right.

Jiang Lin didn’t mind, though. Although the dog-headed demon looked a bit unusual, he had a tall and muscular build, with strong arms and legs—perfect for hard labor.

Jiang Lin wasn’t surprised that the cat demon didn’t have any companions of the same species: Felines seem to prefer being solitary. Even after becoming demons, they’d rather band together with other types of demons than seek out their own kind.

The third to arrive was the old monkey demon.

He brought along a few other monkey demons, all of whom were muscular and powerfully built.

Additionally, the old monkey demon mentioned that he had a clan with over a hundred descendants. Although not many had fully transformed into demons, a significant number had developed basic intelligence and could communicate.

In other words: plenty of potential workers!

Indeed, after carefully considering it, the old monkey demon had concluded that the White Bone King’s earlier words and the request to bring others along likely indicated a need for labor.

The old monkey demon hadn’t yet guessed Jiang Lin’s true intentions; he simply assumed that Jiang Lin intended to establish his rule over the mountain and was now recruiting followers.

Given that the White Bone King was the strongest on White Tiger Ridge, whether or not anyone wanted to submit, they would likely have to in the end.

Recalling Jiang Lin’s demeanor during the day and the magically delicious food, the old monkey demon made up his mind to pledge his entire clan’s loyalty.

Sure enough, as soon as Jiang Lin heard what he said, his eyes lit up.

He looked at the old monkey demon with undisguised approval in his gaze.

The old monkey demon realized he had made the right move.

As for the other demons, there were about forty or fifty more scattered around.

From what Jiang Lin knew, there were roughly over a hundred demons who had achieved a humanoid form in White Tiger Ridge, so nearly half had shown up tonight.

The fact that these seven demons managed to bring so many others exceeded his expectations.

Knowing that this group of demons was simple-minded, Jiang Lin decided to skip the formalities he had initially planned and got straight to the point:

“I’ve called you all here tonight to announce something.”

The demons quieted down.

With a hint of demon power in his voice, Jiang Lin spoke clearly, ensuring every demon could hear: “I, Bai Gu, from this day forward, am the lord of White Tiger Ridge.”

This proclamation wasn’t just heard by the forty-odd demons present; it also reached the ears of those elsewhere in White Tiger Ridge who hadn’t come.

Some of those who didn’t come simply didn’t know they were supposed to, while others were too proud to bow to the White Bone Spirit.

Jiang Lin didn’t care about their reasons. After making his declaration, he looked at the demons present. “If anyone has any objections, step forward.”

The crow demon foolishly asked, “Step forward for what?”

Jiang Lin, smiling sweetly, replied, “Of course, it’s to fight. Whoever wins, we listen to them.”

The demons: “…”

“We have no objections!” they shouted in unison.

Jiang Lin was satisfied. “Good.”

“Now,” he continued, “tell me what you all like—whether it’s food, useful items, or beautiful things.”

The demons: “?”

The pheasant demon didn’t understand. “Why ask that?”

Jiang Lin explained, “As the lord of White Tiger Ridge, it’s my duty to ensure that the inhabitants of this land live better lives. So, I need to understand you all.”

He thought he was saying something quite ordinary.

But the demons were bewildered.

A lord—wasn’t that just the king? Didn’t the king only need to make demands?

The king just needed to say what he wanted, and it was the duty of the little demons to find it and fulfill the king’s wishes.

But the king actually said he wanted them to live better lives?

The demons stared at Jiang Lin in confusion.

They didn’t know what warmth and gratitude felt like; they only felt a strange warmth in their chests.

The cat demon, who had already become a fangirl after one meal, was the first to excitedly speak up: “I like the chicken soup that the king makes!”

Jiang Lin wasn’t surprised and asked gently, “Anything else?”

“And…” The cat demon furrowed her brow, thinking hard.

Jiang Lin wasn’t in a hurry and prompted, “Is there anything that usually troubles you? Tell me, and maybe I can help solve it.”

The cat demon wrinkled her face in thought, then suddenly said, “I wish it wouldn’t rain, and I wish it wouldn’t snow!”

Jiang Lin: ?

The cat demon explained, “Whenever it rains, my fur gets all wet and uncomfortable. Snow is even worse—it’s very cold, and I get hungry easily, and all the prey in the mountains hide away, making them hard to find.”

Hearing this, several bird demons chimed in: “Yes, yes, when it rains, our nests get wet, and when there are strong winds, they sometimes blow our nests away.”

“And lightning is the scariest. Every time it strikes, I hide and don’t dare move.”

“…”