Chapter Sixty-Four: Affairs

Although I was quite tired in the morning, I didn’t feel the least bit sleepy. As for Xi Yue, she still couldn’t venture outside during the day; she could only sit quietly in a room with the curtains drawn, cultivating. She could come to the living room, but I’d decided not to let her do so. After all, in the living room, she’d inevitably have to exert herself to resist the terrifying sunlight streaming in.

Reclining on the sofa, I slowly opened the Secret Arts of the Azure Dragon and began to study it.

Meanwhile, Nie Xiaoke, having absorbed the radiance of the Buddha, now existed in a gaseous, ethereal state. She was beside me, drawing talismans, while Tu was within the Blood Slaughter Array Diagram, constantly recovering his cultivation. He’d devoured a great deal of spiritual energy before, and now was the perfect time to use it for his restoration.

Unconsciously, under the warm sun, I gradually drifted into sleep.

It was the ringing of the downstairs phone that jolted me awake.

Nie Xiaoke, upon hearing the bell, instantly darted into the broken sword. Groggy with sleep, I rose and made my way downstairs.

On the other end of the line was Chen Chuyi. He told me that an elderly patriarch from a wealthy family in East Chengdu had passed away and needed me to oversee the funeral rites. I wouldn’t have to handle the specific rituals, just keep an eye out and make sure nothing went wrong with the old man. Lately, Chengdu had been rife with strange occurrences; he suspected something big was about to happen and urged me to be careful.

I nodded. I was long accustomed to such matters. In the past, people often sought out Chen Chuyi and Zhang Keqing for situations like this. Thinking of Zhang Keqing, I wondered how she was now. Zhao Fifteen said her prospects weren’t good, having been possessed by the Vajra Soul and fleeing to Huamei Village.

Huamei Village?

Well, it seemed I’d have to pay that place a visit. This past while, Zhao Fifteen and Chen Chuyi had been preparing to go there. I needed to familiarize myself with the Sword of All Beings as soon as possible, learn as much as I could, so I’d have some means of protecting myself when I finally reached Huamei Village.

Sure enough, not long after, a voice came from the doorway, one I found somewhat familiar.

To be honest, there weren’t many people whose voices I remembered, but this person was one of them, because he was none other than my old boss. Before the incident with Su Ying’s invitation, I’d been working at a publishing house as an editor. Standing before me now was the head of our editorial department, a man who’d made my working life difficult on more than one occasion.

“You must be Master Yang, the one Mr. Chen mentioned on the phone?”

I nodded.

It looked like my former boss had been promoted again, less than a year since I’d left.

“Zhang Hansheng, right?”

I used to be terrified of him, having worked under his supervision. I never asked anything of him, but now things were different—we had no ties, and today it seemed he was the one seeking my help.

“Yes, yes, Master Yang, you truly are a remarkable person!”

I forced a bitter smile. It seemed my former department head had completely forgotten me. Frankly, that was understandable; back then, our publishing group in Chengdu was quite large, with dozens of people just in the editorial department. Staff turnover was frequent, so it was normal that he didn’t remember me. Besides, I’d already been gone for some time.

“Master Yang, it’s like this: Our boss’s father has passed away. The boss asked me to invite you to keep an eye on things tonight, just in case anything goes wrong.”

I gave a faint smile.

“This is just a little token of appreciation, Master Yang, please don’t take it to heart!”

Seeing my smile, Zhang Hansheng seemed to instantly grasp my meaning and hurriedly handed me a red envelope. I glanced at it—at least five thousand yuan. I couldn’t help feeling a little resentful. Back when I worked myself to the bone, I barely made three thousand a month, even with overtime. Now, before I’d even done anything, I’d received a red envelope nearly equivalent to two months’ wages. All I could do was smile wryly.

I nodded and said softly, “Leave your phone number here. I’ll call you at six tonight; you can pick me up at the door.”

With a beaming smile, as if afraid of offending me, Zhang Hansheng immediately produced a business card and handed it to me respectfully, offering polite words about being punctual and so on before leaving.

I sat there watching him go, holding the business card in my hand, unable to help but reflect.

Truly, fortune’s wheel turns. Zhang Hansheng certainly knew how to play both sides. The reason I’d been fired by him was because, while delivering documents to his office, I accidentally walked in on him with a young woman—who sat beside me at work and dressed provocatively, clearly hoping to use her body to climb the ranks.

Sitting in the sunlight, I began to reminisce about my days at work.

Back then, every morning at eight sharp, I had to clock in at the company. Rarely did a month pass without overtime. I had no girlfriend, so there were no distractions; even when I was sick, I’d push through for the sake of earning an extra hundred yuan. I remember, when I first started, the woman sitting next to me was pregnant, nearing her due date, and Zhang Hansheng fired her. She’d looked after me quite a bit, and we talked often. She even said she’d introduce her cousin to me, but after she was dismissed, the matter was dropped.

Then came Li Lina. Her name was so common I never thought much of it, but it turned out she was Zhang Hansheng’s mistress, now installed in the company so he could pursue his office romance more openly.

Back then, I was truly naïve. I believed Li Lina was a genuine college graduate, full of ambition and ideals. I even considered pursuing her. Later, I learned she’d slept with countless men for advancement. I was frustrated, and she even tried to seduce me a few times at work, which only made me angrier…

Looking back now, I realize how foolish I was a year ago.

Glancing at the business card, I was surprised to find Zhang Hansheng had been promoted. He was no longer in charge of the editorial department but oversaw human resources for the entire publishing group.

I smiled faintly, took the red envelope, and drew a thick stack of hundred-yuan bills from it.

Watching the sun fade behind the clouds, I couldn’t help but sigh: truly, in life, the tides shift—thirty years east of the river, thirty years west.