Jiang Dax still held the home-field advantage. He recovered his strength first and slowly walked toward Ling, who was now little more than a cornered beast. Golden light coalesced in his palm again, aimed directly at her.

  "What exactly are you?" he pressed.

  Ling could only answer with difficulty: "I don't know either."

  Dax brought the golden light closer. "You don't know?"

  "As far back as I can remember, I was already in the garbage dump." Ling's tone was calm, as if describing something that had nothing to do with her. "The old ghosts there said that things like me—things that can't be devoured, have no known origin, and can still survive in the Turbid Abyss—are probably… someone's Heart Demon."

  She suddenly laughed. "Ha ha."

  On this day full of surprises and sudden reversals, Ling didn't know why she was laughing. It was the first time she'd ever spoken aloud about what she might be—that kind of shameful existence. Something disgusting that someone had thrown away. She hadn't expected to say it in front of a Local Earth God in the mortal world. At what might be the last moment before she dissipated into nothing.

  It really was… a bit frustrating.

  Heart Demon.

  Dax's pupils contracted slightly. His thoughts drifted elsewhere. He didn't notice that the divine power aimed at Ling was seeping into her spirit body like the finest silk thread. Bit by bit. Silently.

  Ling's condition was actually recovering.

  "The kind that gets secretly cut off and thrown away," Ling added.

  Heart Demons were a sensitive topic in the Heavenly Court.

  Those immortals who wanted to take shortcuts to ascension—what did they do when they hit a bottleneck they couldn't break through? They secretly cut away the karma they couldn't cultivate clean—greed, anger, delusion—and tossed it out. After all, the garbage dump was a giant melting pot that could digest anything. Who would bother tracking down where a discarded karma fragment came from?

  Everyone knew this happened, but no one dared say it. If anyone really investigated, half the gods in the Heavenly Court would end up in prison.

  So the attitude from above had always been: turn a blind eye. As long as nothing major happened, pretend you didn't see it.

  But the problem was—

  Dax stared at the little ghost before him.

  Carrying Chaos Force—her "original body" is bound to have a background that's absurdly significant.

  Dax didn't dare think further.

  Feeling the problem with the pocket watch, he seemed to make some kind of decision. He took a deep breath and withdrew the golden light from his palm.

  Only to discover something even more bizarre—he couldn't withdraw it.

  The light seemed to be held by something, flowing out along his arm. Extremely slow, but continuous. He could feel his power draining away.

  He jerked his head up to look at Ling.

  The female ghost who had just been as weak as a guttering candle—her condition had clearly improved. Her outline had become sharper, her form more solid, and there was even a spark returning to her eyes.

  No wonder her speech was getting smoother.

  She was absorbing his divine power.

  She was fucking absorbing his divine power!

  Dax's worldview was shattered for the third time tonight.

  First time: A wild stray carrying Chaos Force—the kind that only existed at the creation of worlds.

  Second time: This wild stray had nearly blasted him to death.

  Third time: This wild stray could also absorb Heavenly Court-sanctioned divine power?

  If he'd really done what he'd threatened earlier—just blasted that golden light straight at her…

  It wouldn't have been him "peeling" her out. It would have been her sucking him dry.

  Cold sweat instantly drenched Dax's back. As the dignified, five-hundred-year-old Tudi Gong—the Local Earth God of Longjiang—if he were to fall to a wild ghost from some garbage dump, he would undoubtedly become the laughingstock of the entire immortal realm for centuries to come.

  "Have you heard of that Jiang Dax?"

  "Oh, the Tudi Gong who got done in by a little ghost?"

  "Yeah yeah yeah, that's him."

  "Him? I heard he was charging up the enemy and drained himself dry."

  "Tsk tsk tsk. Pathetic."

  Just imagining that scene made Dax feel like he couldn't recover even if he lay underground for eight hundred years.

  But now wasn't the time for fear. Five hundred years of bureaucratic survival weren't for nothing.

  His face showed not a flicker of abnormality. He maintained that "everything under control" calm expression. He casually slid the hand that couldn't withdraw the golden light into his jacket pocket, the motion as natural as if he were just looking for a cigarette. But his fingertips were twitching and spasming uncontrollably.

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  He slowly paced around to Ling's back. Stall for time first. He absolutely could not let this little ghost discover that he was actually panicking like crazy.

  "What did you come to the mortal world for?" His voice remained steady, even carrying a hint of lazy nonchalance.

  Dax mentally gave his own acting a perfect score, and attributed the cold sweat soaking his back to tonight's night breeze being too warm.

  Meanwhile, on Ling's end, the view was entirely different.

  The churning agony that had been tearing through her body gradually calmed after contact with Jiang Dax's golden light. The yang essence fire poison that had been rampaging inside her actually retreated obediently into a corner when it encountered this gentle, mellow power of divine incense.

  By all logic, divine power and malevolent energy were mortal enemies. This should have been scalding, agonizing.

  But instead…

  "Sizzle…"

  That golden light was like a layer of strong adhesive, gently coating the edges of her soul that had been trying to disintegrate and scatter due to the "low pressure."

  The outer shell of her soul, which had been ready to peel away like cracked wall paint at any moment, was actually being… plastered back together by this golden light?

  That instant of comfort nearly made Ling let out a moan.

  It was like drinking an ice-cold Sprite after three years of drought in the desert.

  "I'm looking for a fox immortal named Su Soran." Feeling her energy returning, Ling quietly formed a hand seal in front of her.

  "Fox immortal?" Dax frowned. "What do you want with him?"

  "I heard he can help people trace their soul back to its origin."

  "Just for that?"

  "I want to know who I am." The ghost spoke seriously, something strange in her eyes—not anger, not resentment, but something more complicated that Dax couldn't quite name. "I want to know where I came from. Who threw me away. And why."

  She paused, continuing to secretly form her hand seal: "Even if I find out, it won't change anything. I just want to know."

  Dax was silent for a long time. His mind raced with calculations.Not pondering any philosophical questions—just figuring out how to extract himself from this hellish situation.

  "How about this," he spoke up, his tone carrying a carefully calibrated reluctance. "Your case, tsk… reporting it up the chain would be a real hassle. No identity, no origin, and you've possessed a mortal… the paperwork alone would keep me busy for a month."

  Ling stared straight ahead, saying nothing.

  "But if you're willing to work for me," Dax said, "I can make this go away. You help me with some jobs, I give you a temporary identity, let you stay in the mortal world legally."

  "Work for you?"

  "I'm desperately short-staffed." He sighed. This part was actually true. "Don't even have anyone who can do spreadsheets."

  Ling was silent for a few seconds.

  Two people with their own hidden agendas, both trying to stall this conversation.

  "What kind of work?" she asked.

  "Small stuff. Easy for someone like you."

  "How long?"

  "Depends on the situation."

  "Too vague."

  "Then…" Dax put on a show of serious consideration. "Until you find Su Soran and get the answers you're looking for. After that, whether you leave or stay, that's up to you."

  "Su Soran is actually coming to this city soon," he added. "And I have some history with him. Stick with me, and your chances are better than wandering around on your own."

  Ling stared into his eyes, trying to find traces of lies.

  But this old fox's gaze was utterly still, like two dried-up wells.

  "You're not afraid I'll run?"

  "Can you?" Dax's smile was ambiguous. "In the mortal world, you won't last three days. The air will slowly grind you into dust."

  Ling's eyes flickered. He was right about that.

  "Besides," Jiang Dax said, "you need a body."

  "I can find another one."

  "Possession?" Dax chuckled lightly. "You know what the penalty is for getting caught possessing someone? Third-degree offense. I know you're not the type to be scared off easily, but with your level of cultivation, an ordinary flesh body won't last twelve hours before you burst it."

  Ling fell silent. She knew he was telling the truth.

  "Stick with me," Dax said. "At least you'll have a legal identity, a roof over your head. At least you won't have to hide and run, switching shells every day while trying to find someone."

  He paused, as if suddenly remembering something: "Oh right, I happen to have an old model back at my place. Issued by the Heavenly Court ages ago. Nobody's using it. You can wear it for now."

  "What old model?"

  "A Celestial Maiden."

  Ling blinked.

  "Specifically designed for descending to the mortal world to inspire and enlighten humanity." Dax's tone was extremely casual. "Very pretty. People have asked for it several times and I never gave it away. Lucky you."

  Ling was skeptical. But… to move around in this mortal world, having a shell would definitely be more convenient. Besides, this old bastard's golden light was good stuff. This deal wouldn't be a loss.

  "Fine." She finally spoke, dispersing the seal in her hand. "I'll go with you."

  Dax exhaled a long breath in his heart.

  He'd finally found an excuse to "package" this utterly bizarre little ghost—once she entered that Celestial Maiden body, no matter how powerful she was, she wouldn't be able to cause any waves.

  And that Celestial Maiden body…

  It was famous throughout the entire Heavenly Realm as "beautiful garbage."

  Back in the day, those tool-bodies for Celestial Maidens descending to the mortal world—only seven were ever made. They claimed it was "specially designed for inspiring humanity," but that was just marketing. The real situation: extremely beautiful, but every other specification was basically garbage.

  The immortals had despised these things back then, and eventually they'd all been sealed away in storage. Dax's temple happened to have one. An antique gathering dust at the bottom of his inventory for several hundred years. Now someone was finally taking it off his hands.

  "Let's go." He turned and walked toward the alley exit. "Follow me back."

  Ling floated up and followed behind him.

  Little Ear transmitted a signal:

  "I know," Ling answered in her mind. "First we get in, freeload off this 'portable charger,' squeeze out all the benefits we can, then we crush this slippery old fox."

  "Hey, boss," Ling called out, her tone noticeably lighter. "Wait up."

  What she didn't see was that Dax, walking ahead of her, had a hand still stuffed in his pocket—and the glow was finally, gradually fading. He let out a silent breath.

  The Tudi Gong's office.

  After settling Ling in, Jiang Dax sat alone at his desk, staring into space.

  The desk was piled with documents, reports, and various miscellaneous junk. In the corner sat an ancient computer, bought ten years ago, that now took three minutes just to boot up.

  But his gaze wasn't on any of these things.

  He was looking at a photograph. A very old photograph. Yellowed, edges worn.

  In the photo were two young men. No—two young gods. They stood shoulder to shoulder on a mountain peak, clouds churning behind them. Both were smiling brightly, looking spirited and ambitious.

  The one on the left was himself. His younger self. Back then he didn't have this much gray hair, and his eyes hadn't yet acquired that weary, world-weary look.

  The face of the person on the right had been half-burned away. Not faded with age—deliberately burned. The scorch marks were still visible.

  But the part that hadn't been burned still revealed some things—like the antique pocket watch the person held in his hand, carved with intricate talismanic script.

  Dax stared at the photo for a long time.

  "Old Li," Dax said softly, caressing the watch that had gone still again, his voice hoarse. "What exactly did you hide that was worth your life?"

  His fingertips trembled slightly as he flipped the photo over—

  On the back, a line of red characters like old bloodstains, glaring, written above a date too faded to read.

  Below the writing were several grooves carved so deep they'd almost torn through the paper. As if made with fingernails, with teeth, with gritted jaws ground down over countless long dark nights. Inch by inch, worn into waiting.

  Dax gazed at it for a long time, then suddenly let out a low laugh: "Old friend, the statute of limitations has passed… So on your behalf—let me turn their world upside down one more time!"

  The photo didn't answer him. The only sound in the office was the hum of the ancient air conditioner.

  He sat there for a long while.

  Finally, he carefully placed the photo back in the drawer and locked it. Then he stood up, walked out of the office, and went to check on how his new "employee" was adjusting.