[Qin Shu: Dad, Mom, I have a boyfriend now!]
[Qin Shu: Hehehe, Old Tang! When you get a chance, remember to tell Auntie Su that I have a boyfriend now!]
[Qin Shu: Brother Liu, good news. I found the shen dragon Grand Shaman Chen mentioned. Village Chief Liu’s mental condition can be restored. We may need to set up a ritual altar and invite a god to help. I’ll send you a preparation list later, and we can look together for whatever materials are missing. Oh, right, absolutely huge good news: I have a boyfriend now!]
[Qin Shu: Teacher Xu, I have a boyfriend now! Don’t tell Old Fu and the others yet, hehe. You’re basically half a matchmaker for Zhaozhao and me. Without Cultivator A, whom you introduced, there wouldn’t be the me of today. Let me treat you to dinner sometime?]
[Qin Shu updated his Moments: I have a boyfriend now!]
The notification sounds from his phone came like a hail of bullets and did not stop for a full half hour. In the end, Pei Zhao snatched the phone away in irritation and switched it to silent.
Qin Shu looked aggrieved. “Why mute it? I still want to reply to every single one. My wording has to be firm and my attitude solemn, or they’ll think I’m joking. What if I buy a promoted post?”
“…You can’t buy promoted posts for Moments. Do you want this to make the news?”
“Mm. That wouldn’t necessarily be bad.”
“No. Nobody cares about a high school student dating. You would only make yourself look insane.”
Pei Zhao’s wording was even firmer than Qin Shu’s and immediately strangled that bizarre, impractical idea in its cradle.
“Fine. Then I’ll harass the people around us first. Zhaozhao, be nice and let me check on Chen Shui… Mm, bad timing. It’s enough to tell Liu Yang Yang.”
Qin Shu rolled over, pulled the helpless-looking Pei Zhao into his arms, and smoothly reclaimed his phone from Pei Zhao’s hand.
“Oh, right, and Zhang Jia Le. That brat definitely isn’t asleep. He’s always looking for people to game with in the middle of the night. I’ll message him privately!”
Pei Zhao sighed soundlessly and did not stop him. Qin Shu was far too excited. If he was not allowed to burn through that energy, he probably would not sleep tonight.
Suddenly understanding his own feelings and suddenly becoming aware of them was perhaps like opening another door into a brand-new world. The initial reaction was always going to be more intense.
Pei Zhao’s own reaction was not much better. The only real difference was probably that… he would not be controlled by a violently pounding heart. Hormones, dopamine, □□, all the things that influenced emotion in a human body, did not exist in him.
Elio’s Notes: The supplied raw contains □□ after “hormones, dopamine.” The exact missing Chinese term is not reconstructed.
He rested his head on Qin Shu’s chest and silently listened to the heartbeat and breathing of the person beside him, his gaze deepening.
Hormones and chemical messengers did not exist, but needs carved into his bones continued to grow all the same, bound to his soul and embedded in flesh and blood.
“Kiss me.”
“Mm?”
Qin Shu’s hand jerked, and his phone dropped straight onto his face.
Perhaps he had not yet adapted to the major change in their relationship. Hearing Pei Zhao suddenly say something like that without warning, he genuinely failed to react for a moment.
Pei Zhao took the phone away, stuffed it under the pillow, then naturally hooked an arm around the back of Qin Shu’s neck and pressed down gently.
Their lips touched and their breaths mingled, but they separated again almost immediately.
“All right.” Pei Zhao released him in satisfaction, expression perfectly normal. “Can we sleep now?”
Qin Shu’s breathing grew a little heavier. He pulled Pei Zhao back with one hand. “Kiss me again?”
“…Mm.”
Back and forth they went, kissing several more times.
They were like two small animals feeling their way around and cautiously testing a new way of getting along. Neither had any real experience, so they could only use the simplest, clumsiest method.
Qin Shu slept wonderfully. In fact, even when he finally fell asleep, his entire mind was still dazed.
Everything that had happened in flashes after his return felt even less real than his experiences inside the ghost domain.
When the moment for certain things arrived, there was simply no time to think. Qin Shu had acted entirely on instinct. Only after everything was over, when he looked back and reconsidered what he had actually done, did it begin to feel like a dream, absurdly unbelievable.
Did Pei Zhao truly like him? Were he and Pei Zhao really together now? Was it right to kiss immediately after confirming their relationship?
Whatever else might be questionable, he was absolutely certain he had done that part correctly. There was only one right answer to something like this. Not kissing would have been idiotic.
Qin Shu once again affirmed the perfection of his instinctive behavior, tightened his arms around Pei Zhao, and finally fell asleep in peace.
In his dream, Qin Shu studied with extraordinary diligence, practically injected with chicken blood and overflowing with motivation.
For the first time, he truly read the contents of the Nine Netherworld Prison Scripture: how to sit in meditation and enter stillness, how to temper the body, how to strengthen the soul…
Xuanming really had been an ingenious person, creating a method that allowed cultivators to practice even inside dreams.
The original purpose was probably to make the Wu Clan’s warriors stronger more quickly. They could improve not only through fierce combat, but even while resting. Combined with the abundant spiritual resources of the ancient world, an environment so rich that a random wild plant could be nourished into becoming a spirit, the Nine Netherworld Prison Scripture was indeed extraordinarily efficient.
After Empress Houtu’s second revision, the Nine Netherworld Prison Scripture could adapt perfectly to Fengdu’s particular environment. Absorbing ghost qi and the immense resentment of evil spirits and dead souls could likewise increase one’s cultivation, turning into nourishment for both body and soul.
The only thing requiring special attention was that, early in cultivation, before the soul became resilient enough, allowing large quantities of ghost qi and resentment into the body meant taking strict precautions against inner demons and certain unavoidable side effects.
Without sufficient precautions, one might experience temporary or cyclical emotional fluctuations, frequent intrusive thoughts, increased attention from evil spirits, and all manner of nightmares… Everyone with yin-yang eyes knew how common this sort of thing was.
Qin Shu had actually been dreaming less lately. Ever since he started sleeping in the same bed as Pei Zhao, he had almost completely stopped dreaming about frightening things.
Reading onward, he discovered that Pei Zhao had constantly been feeding him things beneficial to cultivation, both externally and internally, taking exceptionally good care of him.
For a body cultivator to become stronger was much like refining an artifact and maintaining a magical treasure. There was no escaping the cost of nourishing it with real resources. For a soul cultivator to become stronger, one had to constantly deal with ghosts, temper the mind under immense pressure, and still sleep properly every night.
So far, Qin Shu genuinely had not taken a single wrong step. Because of Jiangcheng No. 2 High School’s unusual environment, because of the endless troubles crashing into him one after another… because of Pei Zhao.
Qin Shu was not quite sure when he fell fully asleep. He reread the Nine Netherworld Prison Scripture three times, making certain he had memorized every word, then took out the several soul-technique texts Lord Zhaoyuan had included and carefully read each one.
The most interesting was A Soul Cultivator’s Notes on Killing. It was not a formal manual of techniques at all, but the autobiographical account of an ancient cultivator’s rise to power.
That cultivator was named Zuo Zhe. He was born into an ordinary cultivation family in a small kingdom somewhere in the Nine Provinces, but unfortunately inherited none of his parents’ aptitude for cultivation and could not sense the spiritual energy of Heaven and Earth at all.
At first, he did not know he lacked talent. From childhood, he lived and trained like any ordinary spell cultivator, receiving foundational cultivation education alongside the other children of his clan, repeatedly attempting to communicate with Heaven and Earth, sit in meditation, enter stillness, and draw qi into his body.
His parents also searched for every legitimate method that might let him enter the Dao, switching from one cultivation manual to another… but Zuo Zhe simply had no aptitude. He was like dead wood. Even when he reached his formal coming-of-age at twenty, he still had not become a cultivator.
Eventually Zuo Zhe was ignored by his clan, abandoned by his parents, and shunned by friends and neighbors, becoming an ordinary mortal left at home to eat without contributing.
The fall was too great for Zuo Zhe to bear. He began frantically seeking crooked paths and forbidden shortcuts, secretly trying one method after another to enter the Dao. Instead, he accidentally drew an evil spirit into his body, and it attempted to seize him…
His opportunity appeared precisely then. Zuo Zhe had studied diligently from childhood and knew perfectly well how to respond to the danger of possession. He stabilized his mind, concentrated his spirit, and fought desperately. Somehow, he successfully destroyed the evil spirit inside his Purple Palace and devoured the remnants of its soul.
Through the evil spirit’s memories, Zuo Zhe learned for the first time that the seemingly endless world before his eyes was merely one tiny border kingdom, poor in resources and cut off from knowledge.
Far away on the other side of the Nine Provinces, there existed something called soul cultivation. And Zuo Zhe possessed exceptional aptitude for it.
Qin Shu could not stop reading. It felt like reading a real-life comeback power fantasy.
Unfortunately, Zuo Zhe had endured far too much contempt and suppression when he was young. His mind had become badly twisted, and his actions grew vicious and ruthless. He stopped at nothing, using relatively concealed soul curses to kill indiscriminately, murdering everyone he disliked and everyone who had ever looked down on him.
Eventually his actions were exposed. Zuo Zhe nearly died under pursuit from a powerful expert of a local sect and was forced to abandon his physical body, flee his homeland in panic, randomly possess an innocent stranger, and begin again.
The entire autobiography was saturated with bloodshed and violence, revenge against those who had despised him, and later even horrific acts such as sacrificing entire towns in blood to refine soul artifacts… He could not form any intimate relationship and dared not trust anyone. Only temporary partners bound by mutual benefit remained around him, and he did not even have one friend who shared his rotten temperament. From beginning to end, he relied entirely on himself.
Clearly, Zuo Zhe’s cultivation path had gone completely astray, making it nearly impossible for him to seek an orthodox path to ascension.
And in that flourishing age, when gods and immortals were active, Fengdu prospered, and Heaven still performed its duties properly, an existence like Zuo Zhe was inevitably rejected by Heaven and Earth. Eventually, he could advance no farther.
So when his lifespan approached its end, just before death, Zuo Zhe looked back over his dramatic and turbulent life and used the formidable memory unique to soul cultivators to leave behind an extremely thick autobiography.
Combat insights, cultivation experience, hidden treasure caves, extensive experience resisting inner demons and evil spirits, advice on countering possession and possessing others, the cultivation and practical evaluation of many soul techniques, methods and material lists for refining soul artifacts…
Where Zuo Zhe had written something incorrectly, Lord Zhaoyuan had even personally added a few corrective annotations.
Lord Zhaoyuan offered no judgment on the cultivator’s life. He corrected only objectively mistaken knowledge. How Qin Shu should think about the story and what lessons he should draw from it were left entirely to Qin Shu.
Qin Shu genuinely learned a great deal. He felt like a sponge saturated with rich black-chicken broth, so nutritionally overloaded that his head had been stuffed to bursting with information and was beginning to suffer indigestion.
Without noticing, he grew exhausted and fell asleep. He had no memory of when his consciousness faded. When he opened his eyes again, he was back in the familiar bedroom beneath bright morning light.
Who am I? Where am I…?
Qin Shu silently questioned himself, staring at the ceiling until his mind gradually cleared. Then he heard Pei Zhao’s footsteps moving unhurriedly up the stairs.
They crossed the hallway, stepped onto the soft carpet of the bedroom, and stopped beside the bed. A cool palm settled naturally against Qin Shu’s forehead and rubbed it for a moment.
Qin Shu suddenly had no idea what to do with himself.
What were you supposed to do on the first day of dating? Should he just grab Pei Zhao’s hand and hug him immediately? He had no idea!
“Liu Yang Yang is here.”
Fortunately, Pei Zhao had none of these concerns. He inexplicably tilted his head at Qin Shu and continued, “Get up. He wants to discuss the altar for inviting the god with you.”
“Right… I’m getting up now!”
Qin Shu jolted upright, first pulling Pei Zhao into his arms for a confused hug, then rapidly washed up, threw on a jacket, and went downstairs.
“Brother Qin, congratulations! Congratulations! And here I was so worried about you I could barely eat… You slept with a high fever for three or four days, then the very first thing you did after waking up was settle your lifelong happiness. Damn, that’s incredible! That’s Brother Qin for you. Efficient even when it comes to romance!”
Liu Yang Yang was as energetic as ever, and today his voice was even more deafening than usual, directly frightening the sparrows out of the yard.
He raised a hand and slapped Qin Shu hard on the back twice, eyes shining. “Brother Qin, what happened? Did you fall into a ghost domain too? Your boyfriend said the trouble you ran into was way more dangerous than what I experienced. Come on, tell me how you got out. Share some survival tips.”
Qin Shu’s ears precisely captured the words your boyfriend. He used every ounce of self-control he possessed to stop the corners of his mouth from shooting upward.
Liu Yang Yang was a good guy. As expected of a professional social butterfly who hauled corpses all over the place, he really knew how to give emotional support. Worth learning from.
A pot of lemon tea sat on the coffee table, the clear glass pitcher filled with ice and carrying the faint fragrance of spirit herbs. In Jiangcheng’s still-chilly early spring, one glance was enough to identify it as a product of Pei Zhao’s personal preferences.
Qin Shu could not help looking at it several times. A faint sweet aftertaste suddenly seemed to spread through his throat, almost as though he had already drunk it. While Qin Shu was unconscious with fever, Pei Zhao must have fed him a few cups to cool him down, perhaps even preparing it fresh every day.
He still could not suppress his smile. He pulled Liu Yang Yang down onto the sofa but showed absolutely no intention of pouring his guest anything to drink.
“Long story short, I fell into the underworld from several thousand years ago. The shen dragon Grand Shaman Chen mentioned was imprisoned there at the time.” Qin Shu paused and clarified very seriously, “He treated me extremely well. Really, incredibly well. He wasn’t dangerous at all. Village Chief Liu’s problem will also be easier to solve than Granny A-Shu’s.”
“Holy crap, Brother Qin, you really are destined for the underworld… Which god does that kindhearted Dragon Grandpa want us to invite down to treat the village chief?” Liu Yang Yang lowered his voice. “I’m worried about conflicting beliefs. Village Chief Liu is an extremely devout believer in the Cave God, way more devout than I am. If we invite some god down and accidentally offend them, we’re finished. We need to confirm this first.”
…Dragon Grandpa. Technically, it was not wrong.
Qin Shu coughed and struggled not to laugh, temporarily deciding against correcting the form of address. “Senior Shen Dragon mentioned that what we need to prepare is a Daoist jiao altar, specifically a qingjiao purification rite. It isn’t that frightening. As long as the offerings are good enough, it certainly won’t count as disrespecting a god.”
Elio’s Notes: A jiao (醮) is a formal Daoist offering rite, typically involving an altar, offerings, petitions, and the invocation of deities. Qingjiao (清醮) refers broadly to jiao rites for “yang affairs” such as blessings, thanksgiving, averting calamity, longevity, celebrations, and prayers for peace; rites for the dead are generally classed separately as youjiao (幽醮).
The list of offerings Lord Zhaoyuan had mentioned was also very clear: the classic incense, flowers, lamps, fruit, and water, together with tea, food, precious pearls, and clothing. If they wanted to ask a god to do something properly, they should solemnly present the full Ten Offerings, along with exquisite ritual vessels and legitimate ritual implements…
They also needed canopies, banners, and streamers as the ceremonial procession for welcoming the deity, talismanic slips and formal petitions to communicate their request, plus a handheld incense burner and purified altar water to maintain the altar’s sanctity and ward off evil.
It sounded extremely complicated. If Qin Shu and Liu Yang Yang tried to prepare everything themselves, who knew how many years they would be fumbling around. Fortunately, Lord Zhaoyuan was learned in ancient and modern affairs and had extraordinary foresight. He had even thought of the solution in advance.
Just tie up any Daoist. Preferably one who lived in a proper Daoist temple.
Qin Shu had understood immediately. As long as they could forcibly drag Daoist Master Xu over to help, the altar would definitely get built, and they would not need to worry about the professionalism of the later ritual.
As for certain specific offerings and ritual implements that were difficult to find, they could ask the old man about those too. There absolutely had to be a large number of treasures stored inside the Dragon Mother Temple.
“Easy, easy. I can handle that by myself. I’ll climb the wall on a dark, windy night, crack him once with a stick, and carry him out.” Liu Yang Yang was already rubbing his hands together enthusiastically, ready to begin.
“There’s no need to tie him up. Daoist Master Xu volunteered to help.”
Just then, Pei Zhao finally came downstairs, carrying an empty bronze lamp stand in his hand.
Its color and design were remarkably understated. Auspicious cloud and crane motifs decorated it, making it look like one of the common faux-antique models sold on the market. But Qin Shu’s senses were unusually sharp today, and he saw what was unusual at a glance. Some invisible, colorless, mysterious spiritual resonance quietly clung to the lamp stand.
Such spiritual resonance was extremely rare in the modern age, because it was usually a soul imprint left only by powerful cultivators, immortals, gods, or Buddhas. It might record their realizations of the Dao, an echo of a remnant soul, or even merely scraps of thought and lingering obsession accidentally branded into some object close to them.
Most importantly, this spiritual resonance had an extraordinarily long shelf life. Time did not easily wash or wear it away. It could endure for thousands of years, passing into later generations for others to observe and comprehend.
With sufficient luck, one could sometimes even follow clues left inside the resonance to find the caves and residences where immortals had shed their mortal forms, uncovering even more opportunities.
Pei Zhao placed the lamp stand on the coffee table and sat beside Qin Shu. “This is one of Daoist Master Xu’s treasures. He gave me the ritual vessel in advance as a guarantee that he will assist with the later zhai-jiao rites. It serves as a token.”
Qin Shu fell silent for a moment and tilted his head toward Pei Zhao’s calm face.
…Daoist Master Xu, that mysterious old man who loved money and feared death, had voluntarily handed over a token containing precious spiritual resonance?
That sounded suspiciously subtle. Why did it feel as though Daoist Master Xu had been robbed?
Qin Shu was still wondering about this, while Liu Yang Yang had failed to notice the spiritual resonance entirely.
At Liu Yang Yang’s current level of soul cultivation, even if he stared at the thing for ten years, he might still have no idea what spiritual resonance was.
But Liu Yang Yang’s eye for valuables was excellent. He leaned closer, examined it carefully, and immediately exclaimed, “What dynasty is this antique from? My god, this is ancient, top-grade old merchandise. How is it preserved this perfectly? There’s practically no damage at all… If you took this to an underground auction, Brother Pei, you could achieve financial freedom tonight! Ah, pity. All the underground auctions are gone.”
“All the underground auctions are gone?” Qin Shu’s heart jumped again. His arm quietly wrapped around Pei Zhao’s waist and pulled him closer. “What happened?”
“Some mysterious big shot wiped out all the criminals involved in illegal tomb robbery and artifact trafficking, plus every gray-industry chain connected to them, overnight! Uprooted them completely! It was like stepping on a flock of chicks. Nobody even heard anything happen.”
When Liu Yang Yang reached this point, he inexplicably coughed and slowly turned his head with a subtle expression toward Pei Zhao. “It happened the night Brother Qin passed out… Mm.”
He might be slow, but he was not that slow. Anyone familiar enough with Qin Shu and his relationships could make the connection fairly easily.
Such precisely targeted retaliation could almost only have come from one person. And precisely because of that, the people who had guessed the truth were even less willing to say it aloud.
“I did it.” Pei Zhao blinked, somewhat confused. “Why are you both looking at me like that?”
“…Brother, you’re a good person. You’ve never been the type to murder people just to silence them, right?” Liu Yang Yang asked weakly.
“No. Killing someone is unnecessary if I only need to silence them.” Pei Zhao looked even more confused.
“That’s good, that’s good. Hahaha… Brother Pei, beautifully done! Did you find out who Cultivator A is?”
“Cultivator A is Lin Shi Yu. He is Daoist Master Xu’s disciple, and this matter is connected to the Dragon Palace.” Pei Zhao opened a drawer under the coffee table and took out a bottle of strange liquid. “Wait a moment. Let me light the lamp, and then we’ll talk.”
Qin Shu did not even have time to speak. One unbelievable piece of new information after another crashed onto his head, leaving him thoroughly stunned.
The strange liquid was lamp oil. Pei Zhao poured a shallow layer into the lamp stand and allowed it to spread slowly.
Then a snow-white wick appeared before them as though conjured from nothing, floating up from beneath the oil before igniting with a soft click.
Qin Shu’s vision blurred, and the entire environment around him abruptly transformed.
…He was sitting inside a magnificent, dazzling palace.
A palace beneath the sea.