But I'm a proper river god, you know! - Chapter 15

“The River God’s Temple.”

The newcomer glanced at the hiding spot of Ye Wenshu and let out a light, disdainful chuckle. His pitch-black pupils filled his eye sockets, yet an icy chill still seeped from their depths.

“This shabby little hut thinks it can stop me?”

Tattered robes—unwashed for who knows how many years—were shrouded in a swirling black mist that billowed with his movements. Slowly, he dragged his palm along the blade of his longsword. A cold glint flashed as the tip pointed straight at the character “神” (god) on the temple plaque, radiating an unmistakable intent to slay a deity.

Inside the temple, Ye Wenshu sensed something amiss. The grief and indignation on his face vanished instantly, his pupils contracting sharply.

“Damn it! Ancestors above—he’s caught up! We need to go!”

He scrambled to his feet, only to find himself immobilized by the Binding Spirit Curse coiled tightly around him.

“The River God—right, the River God!”

In his frantic struggle, he remembered Qi Yan’s earlier words, and a spark of hope flared in his eyes. Forced to crawl like an insect with his legs bound, Ye Wenshu wriggled toward Yuan Ji, his movements awkward yet oddly agile.

Meanwhile, Yuan Ji was studying the black mist enveloping the intruder with mild interest—it would make excellent nourishment. Just as she pondered this, her peripheral vision caught a hulking figure in the corner regressing into a worm-like creature squirming toward her. After a brief pause, she flicked her fingers.

A flickering flame sprang to life in her palm, its light dancing eagerly.

Qi Yan, who had seen the destructive power of this flame before, froze momentarily before letting out a soft laugh. “Cultivator Yuan, it seems this man has something to say. Shouldn’t we hear him out first?”

“Yeah, yeah!” The system, A-Tong, chimed in, no longer caring about Ye Wenshu’s potential ulterior motives. “He might have a loose tongue, but he doesn’t deserve to die!”

Yuan Ji blinked in confusion: …?

What are they talking about? When did I say I’d kill him?

Fine.

She shot a glance at Qi Yan, then retracted the flame and released Ye Wenshu’s restraints.

Freed at last, Ye Wenshu gasped in relief before lunging forward to cling to Yuan Ji’s feet. When he looked up, his face was streaked with tears.

Under his fervent gaze, Yuan Ji shuddered involuntarily. “Speak.”

“Ancestors bless me—I can finally talk! I nearly suffocated!” He stretched his limbs, relieved to move freely again.

Yuan Ji narrowed her eyes. With a “whoosh,” the flame reappeared at her fingertips, its scorching heat blasting toward Ye Wenshu. He yelped and toppled backward, patting his head in panic.

Phew. Still have my hair.

Now thoroughly cowed, he clapped a hand over his mouth and shook his head vigorously. Following Qi Yan’s silent cue, he fished out an exquisite violet bamboo brush inlaid with a luminous pearl from his sleeve.

As soon as the brush appeared, a gentle breeze wafted toward Yuan Ji, caressing her cheeks like a tender touch.

Ye Wenshu’s face twisted in reluctance—this was his treasure, after all—but he had no choice. “Great River God, this is my beloved Spirit-Tracing Bamboo Brush. It can inscribe talismans without paper, and…” He lowered his voice conspiratorially, “it can transcribe thoughts instantly! A priceless tool for writing novels!”

Yuan Ji: …

She arched a brow, unimpressed.

“Great River God, today I offer this treasure to you! Please, spare my life!” He raised the brush high, but Yuan Ji made no move to take it.

After a long, awkward silence, realization dawned on him.

“Great River God, I sincerely apologize for my earlier disrespect! You’re no ‘old ghost’—you’re a peerless celestial maiden, unparalleled in heaven and earth! You—mmph!”

Before he could finish, Yuan Ji silenced him again. If he uttered one more word, she might just feed him to the flame.

“Mmph! Mmm!” Ye Wenshu’s eyes welled with sorrow. What did I say wrong this time?

Did she agree to save me or not?

His anxious gaze darted to Qi Yan, hoping for clarification, only to see the man calmly offering Yuan Ji a pastry. His heart sank.

Outside the Temple

The intruder sensed Ye Wenshu’s presence inside and grinned, his lips stretching unnaturally wide. Thick black mist surged from within him, enveloping his body.

His longsword screeched against the ground as he dragged it forward—then, with a flick of his wrist, the blade shot toward the temple like a bolt of lightning.

The air itself seemed to darken under the attack’s oppressive force.

“BOOM!”

A deafening crash echoed, but the expected destruction never came. The intruder’s smirk faltered.

His sword had been repelled by an invisible barrier, shattering into three pieces upon impact.

He eyed the wreckage indifferently—it was just a disposable weapon. With a clenched fist, the black mist solidified around him, taking on a metallic sheen.

“No wonder you stopped running,” he sneered. “But it’s useless.”

He’d never heard of any River God’s Temple. What kind of cheap trick was this?

“Hah!”

His right fist, reinforced by the mist, smashed into the temple doors with earth-shaking force.

“Gah!” Ye Wenshu cowered at the noise, trembling. Oh no. Xuan Chengren’s using the Black Mist Armor—he’ll demolish the whole temple!

He’d seen that mist-infused blade slice through top-grade spiritual artifacts like paper.

Yuan Ji dissolved the barrier. With a thunderous “CRASH,” the temple walls collapsed into rubble, sending dust billowing into the air.

Ye Wenshu coughed violently, panic surging—until he noticed Yuan Ji’s unflinching composure. Somehow, it soothed him.

“Pathetic.” A guttural laugh rumbled from Xuan Chengren’s chest as he surveyed the ruins. Only the doors and plaque remained intact.

Yuan Ji followed his gaze and nodded approvingly. Impressive demolition skills.

A faint smile played on her lips as she floated down from a tree, landing lightly before him. Her eyes locked onto the black mist with intrigue.

“So you’re the River God?” Xuan Chengren scoffed. “Hand him over, and I’ll spare you.”

“Ah, I see now.” Yuan Ji ignored his threat, studying the mist. “A Jiangshi.”

A living corpse. Rare. No wonder the mist differed from demonic energy. Pity—it couldn’t feed her flame.

She patted the flickering fire reassuringly. Next time.

Xuan Chengren stiffened momentarily when she identified his true form but quickly dismissed his unease.

So what if she knows? This temple’s a joke—she’s no threat.

“Scared? Then move aside.” He rolled his eyes, nostrils flaring, before spotting Ye Wenshu under a black cloth behind a tree.

Idiot. Nowhere left to run.

After years of pursuit, he wouldn’t fail now.

“Since that’s settled,” Yuan Ji said coolly, “let’s discuss compensation. 100,000 high-grade spirit stones should cover it.”

“What?” Xuan Chengren gaped. Is this girl insane?

“You destroyed my walls. 100,000 is fair.”

He snorted and strode toward Ye Wenshu, mist coalescing into a blade in his grip.

“Mmph! Mm!” Ye Wenshu squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for pain—but none came. Peeking through his fingers, he saw Xuan Chengren frozen mid-stride, his posture so precarious that he toppled face-first into the dirt with a resounding “THUD.”

“Pfft—HAHAHA!” Ye Wenshu burst out laughing. “Ancestors, is this the same Xuan Chengren who chased me across realms? River God, you’re amazing!”

His glee drew a sigh from A-Tong and a murderous glare from Xuan Chengren, who lay paralyzed under an invisible weight.

Damn it! I underestimated her.

“Fine! I’ll pay!” he growled through gritted teeth. “Release me!”

“Yuan Ji, be careful—he’s scheming,” A-Tong warned.

She nodded but undid the restraint anyway. “Doesn’t matter.”

The moment he was free, Xuan Chengren shot eastward like a shadowy arrow—only to slam headfirst into an invisible barrier with a “GONG!” so loud it echoed for miles.

Yuan Ji watched the now-unconscious Jiangshi with pity. Such a rusty brain. Better off as flame food.

“Whoosh!”

The fire at her fingertips leapt joyfully toward Xuan Chengren.