Chapter Three: A Funeral That Felt Like Home

Whether or not they were fed was of no consequence. Ye Yan was a man who valued propriety. How could he possibly let a guest who had come all this way leave with an empty stomach? And so, he prepared an extra portion of food.

At the dinner table, Xia He maintained her elegant façade, eating in dainty bites, yet still found the time to tease him. Ye Yan, however, paid her no heed. He buried himself in his meal, shutting out her words entirely. He knew well enough—this shallow woman was merely lusting after his body.

As they ate, Xia He suddenly set down her chopsticks and turned her head to ask, “Little brother, do you know that new member of Quanxing called Zhang Youquan?”

“No idea,” Ye Yan replied, expressionless, a machine shoveling down rice.

“This Zhang Youquan, a newcomer, declared he would challenge the Four Madmen just half a year after joining Quanxing. He even threatened to abduct me and make me his plaything.”

“What’s that got to do with me?” The rice-shoveling machine continued its work.

Xia He’s beautiful eyes shimmered with mischief. “He’s been missing for three months now, hasn’t appeared in the world of the Unusuals for ages. Some say he’s dead, others that he’s been imprisoned... What do you think, little brother?”

“Don’t ask me about Quanxing’s affairs.”

Ye Yan’s face was all regret. “What a pity... I was looking forward to a grand spectacle of you people tearing each other apart.”

He spoke in all seriousness. Yet beside him, Xia He burst into laughter, her chest heaving with mirth.

“Little brother, do you know? When you lie, your left eyebrow twitches ever so slightly.”

“You’re lying,” she said, biting her lower lip, enunciating each word.

“I am not,” Ye Yan denied flatly.

“Tsk!” Xia He put down her bowl and chopsticks, propping her chin up with both hands. “You clearly care so much for your big sister, yet refuse to admit it. You’re really adorable, little brother—so honest in action, so stubborn in word.”

“Little—” Ye Yan twitched at the corner of his mouth, feeling affronted.

“Alright, little brother, I’m heading for another shower. Later tonight, I’ll give you a proper reward.” With that, she rose and tiptoed into the bathroom. Soon, the sound of running water drifted out.

At the table, Ye Yan’s face fell. He was frustrated, yet couldn’t quite muster any real anger.

Heaven is blind! Of all the people he could have run into after crossing over, why did it have to be this woman? Worse yet, before he regained consciousness, the two of them had already exchanged their first blood, as if fate itself were mocking him. And now, she wouldn’t stop clinging to him.

Truly... he was doomed.

He took a deep breath and shook his head helplessly. Yet, Xia He hadn’t been wrong. That Zhang Youquan really was his handiwork, buried out in the backyard. Among those inconspicuous mounds of earth, one belonged to him.

And why did he remember it so clearly? Because that guy was one of the select few in the backyard graveyard who received VIP treatment. Not only had he been bundled into a sack and had his limbs shattered with the Soul-shattering Hammer, Ye Yan had even poured concrete into the pit—professional service from start to finish. A burial fit for royalty.

...

After dinner, having cleared away the dishes, Ye Yan kept his promise and told Lu Dashan and the other six spirit yokai to split into two groups and play cards. The room was filled with raucous merriment.

Ye Yan wielded the Nine-faced Dazzling Demon Banner, but in truth, he commanded only seven yokai, leaving two banners unused. Not that it mattered—seven were plenty for now, and he wasn’t in any rush to fill the ranks.

Once he set their schedule, Ye Yan hurried back to his room to cultivate his qi.

There were three forms in the Watchman’s discipline: the ordinary state, the emotionless Blackened state, and the ultimate form—the Night Sovereign, a walking humanoid nuclear bomb. Ye Yan had already mastered the first two with ease. But as for the Night Sovereign, no matter what he tried, he couldn’t find a way to ascend.

The conditions to awaken the Night Sovereign were simply too stringent—it required the deepest darkness imaginable. In the modern world, overwhelmed by light pollution, such an environment was all but impossible to find, and even if one did, it couldn’t be maintained for long.

So Ye Yan began experimenting—using his qi as a medium to create an artificial domain of night. His qi, being of the dark attribute, might be the key.

Thus, Ye Yan was devoted to his cultivation. He sat cross-legged on the bed, palms to the heavens, sinking his consciousness deep within to refine his qi.

...

Time always slipped by swiftly during cultivation. Ye Yan had no idea how long he’d remained in that state, until he sensed something subtle moving across his body. He startled awake—only to find Xia He, looking languid as ever, twirling a strand of hair around her finger and eyeing him with playful amusement.

“You—” Ye Yan was so startled by their close proximity that he hastily scooted back. From that distance, he could smell her fragrance and see the fine down on her cheeks.

Xia He pouted. “Such a prude.”

“Behave yourself. I’m not that kind of person,” Ye Yan said, blushing.

“Oh?”

But Xia He paid him no mind, pulled the blanket over herself, and with a casual flick, turned off the light. The room was plunged into darkness.

The appointed hour had not yet arrived, and outside, the yokai were still arguing boisterously over cards. “Time to sleep,” Xia He suddenly called out.

There was a clatter outside, as if something had been knocked over, and then the living room fell into an uncanny silence.

“All set!” came Xia He’s lazy voice in the dark, and then Ye Yan felt a pair of burning arms wrap around his neck.

He pushed her away. She wrapped around him again. He pushed her away a second time. She clung on anew.

...

The next morning, Ye Yan woke at his usual hour, sore from head to toe. He rubbed his face and cautiously sat up, only to see clothes scattered everywhere and Xia He sleeping soundly beside him, snoring softly.

Desire was a blade to the bone, and so it proved. The old saying never lied.

Parched, Ye Yan got up, dressed himself piece by piece, and went to wash up.

Having washed, he made two breakfasts. Only then did Xia He, now utterly unguarded, stroll out of the room, reigniting Ye Yan’s exasperation.

“You’re up,” said Ye Yan, quickly turning his back.

Xia He, still yawning at the sink, looked half-asleep and for once, didn’t tease him.

“Come eat when you’re done washing up,” Ye Yan called, bringing breakfast to the table.

With Ye Yan’s insistence, Xia He managed to get dressed and sat across from him, looking positively radiant.

“Up so early?” she asked, rubbing her eyes, her voice languid.

“I have to work,” Ye Yan replied, glancing at the time.

“Heh...” Xia He tilted her head, unable to comprehend his way of thinking. She couldn’t understand why, despite being Unusuals with abilities far beyond ordinary people, he still insisted on working like everyone else.

Ye Yan took a sip of milk. “An Unusual is still a human being. No matter what powers we possess, it doesn’t change that simple fact.”

Xia He didn’t argue. She only offered Ye Yan a look that said, “Whatever makes you happy.”