But I'm a proper river god, you know! - Chapter 13

A rare sunny day. Lush trees stretched their branches, as if eager to embrace every ray of sunlight. The mist over Wangchuan River dispersed, and dewdrops slid slowly along leaf veins, rippling the water’s surface.

With Luan Yu gone, the villagers escorted by Yan Ku and Wu Boshan had returned to their homes. Fang Mingzhu took the grieving Luan Xuan to the backyard to freshen up. In an instant, only Yuan Ji and Qi Yan remained in the front courtyard.

The quiet was palpable. Yuan Ji eyed the gaudy, golden gate—impossible to ignore, its glare practically blinding—and clicked her tongue in irritation. She lowered her head and rummaged through the system’s marketplace.

[Black Fabric: Can conceal anything you wish to hide.]

After a moment’s thought, Yuan Ji suppressed the dull, inexplicable emotion in her chest and spent a spirit stone to exchange for it. She weighed the substantial fabric in her hand and, without hesitation, draped it over the gate.

True to its name, the black fabric dimmed the gate’s radiance, leaving only a faint glow.

With the blinding light gone, Yuan Ji clapped her hands in satisfaction and glanced up. The plaque gifted by the system was far less ostentatious than the gate—just an ordinary, even somewhat shabby, red wooden board with the words “River God Temple” neatly carved into it.

Looking at the modest plaque, Yuan Ji felt relieved. At least only one eyesore needed covering. If the entire temple had to be draped in black, it’d look downright eerie.

System floated beside her, watching Yuan Ji’s actions with visible hesitation. “It’s… better than before, I guess? Not really! Yuan Ji, how is this any less creepy? Who hangs a giant black cloth over their gate?!”

Ignoring System’s meltdown, Yuan Ji found a clean tree branch to sit on. One hand rested on her knee, the other dangling casually at her side as she closed her eyes, basking in the sunlight.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Dappled shadows danced under the tree. A warm breeze brushed her cheeks. Qi Yan, seated beneath the tree, observed Yuan Ji’s actions, his long lashes fluttering slightly. A faint smile flickered in his phoenix eyes.

He hadn’t expected this solution.

Qi Yan retrieved a set of white jade teacups from his storage ring, poured a fresh cup, and floated it over to Yuan Ji. Casually, he asked, “You’re quite the free spirit, Cultivator Yuan. May I ask who your master is?”

The small teacup hovered before her, its pale tea shimmering with a luminous glow, like stars reflected in water.

Yuan Ji instinctively glanced down—no little green sword, as expected. She pinched the cup between her fingers. The temperature was just right.

“No master, no sect,” she replied after a sip. The initial bitterness quickly gave way to sweetness. “Born of heaven and earth.”

“I see.” Qi Yan refilled her cup before withdrawing his gaze, as if the question had been nothing more than small talk.

System’s alarm bells rang. It glared at Qi Yan, wary of any hidden schemes.

The temple fell silent again, save for the faint rustling of leaves in the wind.

Soon, the peace was shattered by a shriek that pierced the sky.

“MY ANCESTORS! What is this place? A haunted house?!”

Ye Wenshu stood at the entrance, his tattered clothes caked in mud—as if he’d rolled through a swamp. One hand braced against the ground, the other patting his chest to calm himself.

“MY ANCESTORS! Please don’t let a ghost pop out! What kind of backwater place is this? Who hangs black cloth over their gate? That’s just asking for trouble… Waaah!”

Yuan Ji’s patience wore thin at his grating voice. Standing up, she caught his last remark.

Crack.

The jade teacup in her hand splintered under her fingers, crumbling into dust the next second.

Yuan Ji: “…Tch.”

“Sorry,” she said flatly, realizing it was Qi Yan’s. “I’ll replace it.”

Qi Yan waved it off. “No need. It’s nothing valuable.”

Yuan Ji didn’t take his forgiveness to heart, instructing System to find a better set in the marketplace. Then, her attention returned to the man at the gate—currently bent over, scrutinizing the temple like a curious animal.

“Bravo,” Yuan Ji muttered, her smile chilling.

System shivered. Surely it was imagining things? That sounded downright murderous.

But why didn’t the map show any markers for him?

System kept the question to itself. Admitting a system glitch would only earn Yuan Ji’s scorn.

Being a system is hard. Being a considerate one is even harder.

Outside, Ye Wenshu squinted at the plaque.

“River… God… Temple?” He rubbed his chin. “Nah, more like Haunted… Ghost… House! Yeah, that’s it!”

Proud of his deduction, Ye Wenshu nodded. “This place must be sealing some ancient ghost. The black cloth is a warning to keep out.”

“MY ANCESTORS! Better steer clear—don’t wanna get snatched by a ghost!”

With a shudder, he backpedaled three steps and bolted. He couldn’t die here—not when he still hadn’t found her.

Yet after running a few paces, the scenery remained unchanged. His clothes seemed caught on something.

Before he could check, a white light yanked him by the collar and flung him into the courtyard.

“AAAAH! GHOST! MY ANCESTORS, SAVE MEEE!!”

Ye Wenshu curled into a ball, arms clamped over his head, wailing like a banshee. The noise drilled into Yuan Ji’s skull.

“Shut it.”

With a flick of her finger, she sealed his voice.

“Mmph—mmph!” Ye Wenshu’s eyes bulged as his mind raced through every horror story he’d ever read.

“The Black Mountain Demon’s Cunning Ploy”
“The Corpse’s Midnight Stroll”

He still had unfinished manuscripts! Piles of books left unread! Was today really his last day?!

MY ANCESTORS!!

HELP!!!

After several silent screams, he noticed something odd. Why hadn’t the ghost stabbed him with its claws yet?

Cautiously, he peeked through his fingers—only to meet Yuan Ji’s cold gaze.

“Disappointed I didn’t slice you open?” Yuan Ji’s voice dripped menace. If not for the faint familiarity about him, she’d have sent him to the afterlife the moment he opened his mouth.

Ye Wenshu’s head snapped up.

A female ghost!

Wait—a living person!

He exhaled in relief, sitting up to bow. “Mmph!”

Yuan Ji raised a brow and freed his voice.

“HAH! MY ANCESTORS, you scared me half to death!” Ye Wenshu wheezed. “What’s with the theatrics, little girl?!”

Yuan Ji’s eye twitched. Just as she considered silencing him again, he gasped, staring at Qi Yan.

“You—you’re Qi Yan! The peerless, ice-cold, divinely favored genius of the Tianji Sect!”

Qi Yan’s hand faltered mid-pour. He ignored the absurd titles, sipping his tea while watching Yuan Ji’s reaction. When she showed none, he set the cup down.

So it’s him.

Qi Yan recalled the man’s reputation.

Ye Wenshu, self-proclaimed “Laughing Scholar of the Mortal World,” was infamous for his inexplicable network of intelligence—and his specialized storytelling.

A vein throbbed in Qi Yan’s temple. This couldn’t end well.

Sure enough, Ye Wenshu’s gaze darted between him and Yuan Ji, punctuated by dramatic inhales.

Before Qi Yan could react, Yuan Ji silenced Ye Wenshu again, wrapped him in the leftover black fabric, bound him with a Spirit-Sealing Talisman from the ground, and tossed him into a corner like a dumpling.

System gaped at the seamless brutality. Its sweet, innocent host was corrupted!

“Yuan Ji… what are you doing?”

“Nothing much.” Yuan Ji dusted her hands off. “Waiting for his ransom.”

System: “…Huh?”

“He’ll have company soon.”

System: “…Eh?”

“To buy you a lighthouse upgrade.”

System’s eyes sparkled. “DEAL! Should we tie him tighter? Don’t let him escape!”

Yuan Ji: “…”