Song Futan’s words mostly revealed his inner infatuation, but now, they were the more hidden emotions of his heart, his struggles under misunderstanding, and also his confession.
Lan He was stunned after hearing this. What came to his mind were all their previous encounters—by the small path, in the temple, in the dark, before dawn. To him, they were moments of not knowing each other’s names or identities, but to Song Futan, they were like separate roads of light and darkness. What kind of feelings had he harbored all along?
“So, the soul residing in this body is not of this world; the white clouds and green mountains are not the true forms I see, but all of them are you…” Song Futan’s cool voice had a slight hoarseness to it. “I want to ask you, can we be together?”
Even if the soul hadn’t departed the body, it no longer felt like the human world. It’s said that Buddhas leave no traces, cannot be expressed in words, and can appear in any form—they can be white clouds, green mountains, bamboo, or yellow flowers. The master said there is no dharma outside the heart, but at that moment, everything Song Futan saw was related only to Lan He.
Lan He felt wrapped in the softness of his words, like the tender breeze of spring. If it weren’t for the accumulated moments of his heart fluttering, how could he suddenly feel like the world had become so narrow, his heartbeat so loud, and his eyes so moist?
He had never felt this way before. Perhaps, taking a step slower helped him understand what it all meant. But once he understood, his heart was filled with both emotion and an overwhelming urge to respond.
Lan He took a step forward, almost falling into Song Futan’s arms. Song Futan embraced him as he did when facing Hu Si’s attack, only tighter. Song Futan’s heart overflowed with emotion; for someone who had grown up surrounded by evil spirits, he had never felt so fortunate.
Lan He’s ears turned red, and he felt a bit shy. “Sure… I guess.”
Song Futan lowered his head and whispered in his ear, “Can you be more certain? The shadows are too big, and I don’t feel safe.”
“I said, I can!” Lan He, after speaking, lifted his head and smiled. His warm brown eyes curved, and because of the scarf, only his eyes were visible. This was the image that left the deepest impression on Song Futan.
Song Futan raised his hand and pulled down Lan He’s scarf a bit, revealing his sweet dimples. He couldn’t resist lowering his head to kiss Lan He.
He had previously described Lan He’s smile in writing, using what he thought were the most appropriate and adorable adjectives. But now, after touching his lips, he felt his description hadn’t been accurate enough. So, this is how it feels…
Lan He’s eyes widened a bit and, still in a daze, glanced around to see if anyone was nearby.
Song Futan had intended just a light kiss, but seeing Lan He’s reaction, which was utterly adorable, he couldn’t help but push further. He pressed Lan He against the car door and kissed him forcefully, his figure almost enveloping Lan He’s.
“Mm…” Lan He only felt as if Song Futan was trying to swallow him whole, but he couldn’t bear to reject him. He raised his hand to pull up the scarf a bit more, covering both their faces.
After a while, Song Futan finally let go of Lan He, kissing his hair before lowering his gaze—right into the open backpack, where two pairs of round, wide eyes stared back.
The fox: “…”
The hedgehog: “…”
Song Futan: “…”
Lan He, still a little breathless and embarrassed, buried his head for a moment before raising his face again, only to see Song Futan staring… behind him?
Oh no, Lan He suddenly remembered something and turned to look.
Lan He: “…………”
What kind of front-row spectators were these! Lan He, struggling to maintain his composure, pressed down on the fox’s head and zipped up the backpack. Their neighborhood had a high rental rate, and it wasn’t uncommon to see people coming home after work at this time, but the night was dark, and no one seemed to notice the little couple or good friends embracing each other.
Suddenly, WeChat chimed, startling Lan He. It was Teacher Long, who had woken up in the evening, noticing he hadn’t come back yet and asking if he was resting at Xiao Song’s place.
“You should head back to rest,” Song Futan said proactively. “There’s no work tomorrow, right? I’ll come pick you up, and we’ll go to Juehui Temple together.”
“Huh? Isn’t that inappropriate?” Lan He hesitated, thinking about going on a date to a temple.
Song Futan was stunned for a moment before realizing what Lan He was thinking. His heart raced, and he couldn’t resist touching Lan He’s cool earlobe, kissing it gently. It seemed that any little part of him deserved to be caressed and kissed. He adjusted Lan He’s scarf, “No, we’re going to discuss the matter of Nanyun Temple. There’s something else I need to tell you… But for now, get some rest.”
Lan He: “…Oh.”
Song Futan’s hand slid down as he gazed intently at him. “Go on.”
Lan He took two steps away, then suddenly turned back and shouted, “Actually, if you die—”
A nearby worker passing by on overtime froze when they heard something about death and glanced over.
Lan He, wrapped tightly in a coat and scarf, despite noticing someone looking at him, boldly continued shouting, “…you still can’t go to the underworld!”
He would snatch him and take him to the Eastern Peak Underworld first!
The overtime worker was dumbfounded and kept glancing back at them as they walked: Whoa, cursing someone so they can’t reincarnate—how deep does this grudge run? Are they about to start a fight?
Not only did they not start a fight, but Song Futan actually smiled, understanding Lan He’s meaning.
Lan He felt quite satisfied after shouting that, waved his hand, and dashed into the neighborhood.
…
Lan He tiptoed back home, his emotions still not settled. He sent a WeChat message to Song Futan: “I’m home. You can go back now.”
For some reason, he had a feeling that Song Futan was still standing at the gate of the neighborhood, not having left.
Sure enough, after a moment, Song Futan replied: “Okay.”
A little while later—Song Futan, who hadn’t saved many emojis, was searching for one, so he took ten seconds longer to send a cute kissing Cheese Cat emoji.
Lan He couldn’t help but laugh. The thought of Song Futan sending a cat emoji made him feel both amused and charmed.
He sat on the floor, opened his backpack, and dumped out the fox and the hedgehog. He went to fetch some warm water, gauze, and iodine to bandage them up. Though it probably wouldn’t help as much as their own recovery abilities, cleaning their wounds made Lan He feel better, and it looked tidier.
Hu 79 was the most seriously injured, so he started with her.
Hu 79: “I want a Fortune Tower.”
This was something Lan He had promised her: after catching Hu Si, he would bring her into the family of house spirits. So, Lan He nodded.
Hu 79: “I want a grand, sky-reaching Fortune Tower.”
As he bandaged her paw, Lan He replied, “No way. This is a rental. We can’t renovate without permission.” That kind of thing could only be custom-made by a carpenter, and such a large Fortune Tower clearly wouldn’t fit the rental agreement.
Hu 79 pouted slightly: “Can you at least install one? I don’t feel safe without it. *Muah*.”
Lan He: “…”
Lan He: “I’ll buy you a three-story fox villa.”
Only then did Hu 79 stop mimicking Song Futan’s shamelessness. Though it wouldn’t be a sky-reaching tower, a three-story villa wasn’t bad—one floor more than the hedgehog, after all!
“Ouch, it hurts… hsss…” Hu 79’s injuries were severe; she was practically being wrapped up like a mummy. But after crying out in pain, she quickly added, “Buy it now, hurry. It’s urgent.”
Lan He pulled out his phone, quickly searched and purchased, then covered the word “Cat Villa” in the product description with his finger and showed it to Hu 79. “Here, it’s bought.”
Hu 79 finally relaxed. “Ah, happiness, *muah*.”
Lan He: “…”
For about ten minutes, Hu 79 took advantage of this and had Lan He pamper her, feeding her water and dumplings, enjoying the treatment of a venerable fox spirit grandmother. Finally, with Lan He glaring in frustration and tugging on the tip of her tail, she settled down.
“Do you still want this spike?” Lan He asked Bai Wu.
He was referring to the long, sharp spike Bai Wu had pulled out, the one that had pierced through Hu Si’s defenses. It was Bai Wu’s sharpest spike.
“You might as well keep it. You could use it as a weapon in the future—it looks like an Emei spike,” Lan He suggested. “You could use it to fight if you ever need to.”
Bai Wu, nervous, said, “…fight again?”
This time, it had taken all his courage to rush forward.
“Haha, I don’t mean you have to fight, just in case. If someone bullies you, you could use it to stab them,” Lan He said.
Hu 79: “Why are you looking at me?!”
“Alright,” Bai Wu reluctantly agreed. He transformed into his human form, crawled forward a few steps, and reached out to grab the spike, but missed and fell flat on the floor, aggravating his back wound, causing him to wail in pain.
Lan He, still sitting on the floor: “…”
Lan He looked at him and realized—this guy, his glasses were gone. One of the inconveniences of being a white spirit was that they were terribly nearsighted. “Did Hu 79 steal your glasses again? You can stab her, she’s not going anywhere right now.”
Hu 79, wrapped up like a fox mummy: “…”
Bai Wu whimpered, “No… Hu Si broke them when she hit me… I have to buy a new pair.”
He fumbled to put away the spike. To make it a permanent weapon, it would need refining and maintenance. His glasses, which he originally stole from an eyeglass store, were paid for with a stroke of luck before he left—one can’t owe humans anything.
“What’s your prescription? I’ll order a pair for you online,” Lan He offered.
“Kid, are you back?” Suddenly, he heard Teacher Long’s voice. Lan He immediately stopped talking and opened the door. “Yeah, I’m back.”
“Oh, just you? I thought I heard you talking to someone,” Teacher Long said.
“…Just me,” Lan He replied.
Teacher Long glanced around, half-worried. “That’s good. I always worry you’ll be talking to something else.”
Lan He fell silent. When he was younger, he didn’t fully understand the concept of spirits and would sometimes speak to ghosts, which worried his elders at home. As a result, he often stayed with his grandfather to learn how to handle these things properly. His mother had been afraid he’d follow in his grandfather’s footsteps, practicing rituals like making paper clothes for the dead, and was relieved when he didn’t.
In the end, Lan He still ended up with a part-time job related to the underworld.
However, the time he and Old Bai had agreed upon was fast approaching, and the matter of the Jingcheng talisman would soon be resolved, so Lan He didn’t mention anything to Teacher Long. Instead, he reassured her, “Don’t worry, I was just messaging a friend.”
“Was it Xiao Song? He seems very enthusiastic about you,” Teacher Long said, yawning before heading back to the guest room to sleep. Lan He, left feeling a bit guilty, couldn’t quite figure out what she meant.
.
Early the next morning, Song Futan came to pick up Lan He, sending him a message when he arrived downstairs.
“Teacher Long, I’m heading out. If you’re bored at home, feel free to visit some scenic spots,” Lan He said, worried that Yi Ping, still recovering from injury, might get startled by Teacher Long, so he decided to bring the two along as well.
Teacher Long replied, “Going out with Xiao Song again? He’s really great—good job, lots of free time, seems well-educated, and he’s polite. I like him.”
Lan He: “…”
Once again, he felt guilty, especially with Teacher Long’s teaching habits kicking in. It was as if he were a student being scolded by the class teacher for dating too early. “Uh-huh… I’m leaving now.”
As he stepped out, Lan He glanced at the neighboring apartment. The door was tightly shut, and there was no movement.
He couldn’t see through walls, but he thought about how Ying Shao and Melonhead Immortal had sent Father Yu back to the Yu family last night. He wasn’t sure if they had returned yet.
Oh well, he’d check later—after all, he needed to share some of the gold-topped furnace ash with him anyway.
Today, besides wearing a scarf, Lan He also put on a mask and a pair of non-prescription glasses. It was the New Year, and many people were visiting Juehui Temple to pray for blessings, plus *Chase* was still a hot topic, so he wanted to be cautious.
When Lan He and Song Futan met, they couldn’t help but smile at each other. After all, they had just confirmed their relationship the night before. Today’s meeting had a hint of sweet awkwardness to it, different from before.
But considering the house spirits in his backpack, Lan He didn’t overdo it. “We’re going to talk about Nanyun Temple today, right? Do I need to leave my soul?”
“…Yeah.”
“So what’s the deal over there? What’s the exchange? Isn’t Nanyun Temple pretty wealthy?” Lan He asked casually, noticing Song Futan’s silence, which felt odd. “What is it? What are they offering in exchange? What do they want in return for the temple’s treasure?”
Song Futan replied, “Nanyun Temple isn’t going to donate their temple treasure. In fact, nothing has been settled yet.”
Then why did he say that last night…? Lan He wasn’t stupid. His gaze landed on Song Futan, and in an instant, a thought struck him. “Could it be!”
Just as Song Futan was about to speak, Lan He exclaimed, “Could it be they want to groom you to become the abbot of Nanyun Temple as part of the deal?!”
Song Futan: “…………”
Lan He knew Song Futan had a special constitution, so even though he didn’t plan to become a monk, the senior monks always looked up to him. Thinking deeper, it made sense. Song Futan would be a perfect candidate for a monk, but he just didn’t want to. He had no interest in these matters.
There were even rumors that the abbot of Nanyun Temple was somewhat controversial. So, if they were willing to exchange their most important temple treasure, wouldn’t they at least want a new abbot in return?
“It’s not what you’re thinking…” Song Futan, still driving, almost swerved, feeling speechless. “We’ll talk about it when we get there.”
“Oh…” Lan He figured that made sense—after all, if Song Futan was becoming a monk, he wouldn’t have confessed his feelings last night.
At Juehui Temple, Song Futan drove directly into the monk’s rest area, where tourists weren’t allowed. Lan He left his body and entered the meditation room with him, where Master Budong sat at the table. Across from him sat none other than First Lady Hu, who smiled upon seeing Lan He.
Lan He hurriedly took out a bundle of incense.
Master Budong, with his serene gaze, glanced at Lan He and smiled faintly, saying, “In such cold weather, why must the Impermanence Spirit leave his body to enter?”
Lan He: “…!”
How did the old monk know? Although First Lady Hu knew Lan He was a Living Impermanence, her expression showed she was also a bit surprised. Song Futan definitely hadn’t told the old monk that Lan He was a Living Impermanence either—he would have informed him beforehand if that were the case.
Even Song Futan was puzzled. Since when had Master Budong figured out Lan He’s true identity as a Living Impermanence?
The monk’s gaze made Lan He feel like wearing the mask was pointless…
“Master, you’re impressive.” But Lan He wasn’t planning to go back and bring his body over. He was more eager to know about Nanyun Temple. “Can we discuss the central warding object now? Were you planning to exchange Song Futan’s prayer beads for Nanyun Temple’s temple treasure? I don’t agree with that.”
After ruling out the idea of Song becoming an abbot, Lan He had thought it over and figured it had to do with the prayer beads. But giving up the beads felt worse than becoming a monk.
“It is related to the prayer beads…” Song Futan confirmed his suspicions, “But it’s not an exchange. These beads, although left by our sect’s founder, are something Nanyun Temple won’t trade. However, I can dismantle the beads, using the golden lotus backing cloud to replace the golden rat, along with setting up the bridge and water formations to serve as the warding object. In return, Nanyun Temple will lend me the temple treasure—the dharma sword—for protection, which I will return later.”
Zen has five major branches, and under the Linji school, both Juehui Temple and Nanyun Temple belong to the same lineage. Song Futan’s prayer beads had originally been left by the founder of this sect.
Lan He felt a bit calmer—this made sense, as the lotus and the bridge-water formation seemed to fit well together. However, he still sensed something off and asked, “But the dharma sword and the backing cloud—there must be some difference between them. Otherwise, why are you all being so cautious? Does the dharma sword not work as well as the backing cloud?”
The backing cloud, also called the “cloudfish,” is an important component of the prayer beads, featuring a through-hole, also called the “heaven and earth hole,” connecting to the Buddha head at the string’s end. It represents the renewal of life, as it hangs at the back where the Yang resides.
Backing clouds can come in various forms. Song Futan’s was in the shape of a golden lotus. He had once temporarily removed it to protect No. 001, but that had been risky. The prayer beads only function fully as a whole, and removing parts for an extended period would diminish their power.
These beads were left by a great monk and were perfectly suited to Song Futan’s unique constitution. Wearing them not only protected him but also allowed his body to nourish the dharma artifact, making it the ideal match.
“It’s not that the sword is inferior, but…” First Lady Hu explained with some frustration, “The sword is an offensive weapon, while the backing cloud is for protection. In other words, using the sword might make it easier for your soul to leave your body, and if you encounter daemons, you could find yourself in more dangerous situations during combat.”
So, it wasn’t that the sword was weaker—it just wasn’t as suitable.
The original plan hadn’t fallen through because they had found the golden rat. Nanyun Temple simply couldn’t bury their temple treasure, not even temporarily with cement. However, they had proposed lending the dharma sword to aid the Red Lotus of Illness. But since it would affect Song Futan, the plan had been abandoned.
Now, Song Futan had voluntarily agreed to it.
Lan He, upon learning the reasoning, didn’t know what to say for a moment. The prayer beads were clearly a better fit for Song Futan, but now…
Song Futan spoke up, “I knew you’d agree with me on this.”
Lan He mumbled, “Given the situation, this seems like the only solution for the whole of Beijing…”
—Actually, it wasn’t about agreement. Lan He could guess why Song Futan, who had always disliked the world of the underworld, suddenly changed his mind and agreed to this plan. It was because of him—because Song Futan cared, seeing him running around trying to solve the issue, concerned about it all.
Lan He remained silent for a moment before saying, “Alright, I agree.”
Everyone watched as, without hesitation, Lan He swiftly detached the hook from one end of his soul-reaping chain, still keeping one end wrapped around his wrist while fastening the other end around Song Futan’s hand. “From now on, if someone tries to pull your soul, they’ll have to drag me out with you. They’ll have to get past me first!”
Song Futan: “…”
He looked down at his bound hand, feeling touched yet helpless.
Even Master Budong chuckled, his eyes full of appreciation. “Good, I must indeed count Impermanence among my closest friends.”
First Lady Hu slapped the table and gave a solid bow. “You two are truly noble, I admire you. And look, they’re even chained together!”
Lan He: “…?”
It took him a moment to realize that First Lady Hu probably didn’t have any hidden meaning—she was simply stating the obvious, that the two of them were now literally chained together.
Sigh, blame it on his time in the entertainment industry—he knew too much.
First Lady Hu’s gaze shifted, as if she had thought of something. “So, does this mean your agreement with Old Bai might fall through?”
Otherwise, what would become of the soul-reaping chain?
“If it falls through, so be it.” Lan He sighed inwardly, feeling the weight of destiny. He hadn’t expected that, in the end, he would willingly continue walking the path of Impermanence.
First Lady Hu smiled and took out a jar. “Actually, besides you, now that Mr. Song is offering his golden lotus backing cloud, we won’t stand idly by either. Here’s the gold-topped furnace ash I promised—it has its own special uses.”
Lan He accepted the furnace ash, while Master Budong handed him the staff he had by his side. “What First Lady Hu said is correct. But for the bridge construction and warding, I will need to be present to continuously chant scriptures. This staff is my personal item; I’ll give it to you.”
Lan He: “Huh?” He was a bit confused as he accepted the staff. He’d seen Master Budong use this very stick to discipline disciples, so it probably held some significance. He thought about how he didn’t have anything to return as a gift, so he ran outside to rummage through his pockets, eventually finding a leftover autographed photo from a fan event. Returning, he handed it to Master Budong. “Here, this is for you… that’s me in the picture.”
At this point, it was clear that his identity couldn’t be hidden from Master Budong or First Lady Hu anymore.
Master Budong took the autograph, which showed Lan He in a Xunchun-inspired pose. He nodded and praised, “Hmm, very handsome.”
Song Futan: “…”
The atmosphere had been so serious a moment ago, but now Song Futan was caught between amusement and disbelief at how things had turned lighthearted.
First Lady Hu, now knowing Lan He’s true identity, chuckled and raised her eyebrows at him. Teasingly, she said, “The Linji stick is world-famous. Be careful with it now that you’re an Impermanence of the Eastern Peak Underworld—don’t accidentally hit yourself and end up becoming a monk.”
Lan He: “…”
…Don’t scare him like that! What if Song Futan didn’t become an abbot, and Lan He ended up converting instead?
With that settled, Lan He turned to First Lady Hu and asked, “The central warding object will soon be in place. Have you taken care of Hu Si?”
At the mention of her, First Lady Hu’s expression soured. “Last night, I was about to sacrifice her to the furnace, but I found that she was missing a soul.”
All living creatures have three souls and six spirits. For Hu Si to be missing one spirit, where could it have gone?
Lan He thought carefully and became concerned. “Could it have something to do with her ability to destroy the golden rat?” This had always been an unresolved issue—how had Hu Si managed it?
“I don’t know. Her mouth is tight, and no amount of tearing could open it. But missing one spirit doesn’t matter, especially now that her inner core has been destroyed,” First Lady Hu said coldly. “So I burned her body in the furnace and sealed the remaining spirits in incense paths. From now on, anyone climbing the mountain will step on them.”
“Amitabha,” Master Budong murmured a Buddhist prayer.
Lan He’s mind was still preoccupied with the fact that Song Futan’s prayer beads had to be dismantled, so he wasn’t focused on anything else. After a few more words of concern, he and Song Futan said their farewells.
As they left, First Lady Hu lingered for a moment. She leaped to the window and, leaning on the frame, spoke to Master Budong. “Honestly, what’s the meaning behind giving that stick to Xiao Lai? While it’s a good artifact, he’s a man of the Eastern Peak Underworld—how can he use your stick for enlightenment?”
Master Budong smiled faintly. “Why wouldn’t he be able to use it? In our Buddhist teachings, there is a saying: ‘The unworldly is immortal bone; compassion is the Buddha’s heart.’ Who says an Impermanence can’t have a Buddha’s heart?”
Monks practice detachment from worldly desires but still hold compassion for all beings. Having a heart full of compassion for all life, regardless of one’s identity, is the Buddha’s heart—it’s the way of the Bodhisattva. Besides, the cold-hearted Red Lotus of Illness had clearly made his decision under the influence of the Impermanence. He had now chosen to wield the sword.
First Lady Hu smiled as well. “Compassion is the Buddha’s heart, huh…”
…
After Lan He returned to his body, he rolled up his sleeves and looked at Song Futan’s hand. As expected, each of them bore a red mark, the form the soul-reaping chain took in the mortal world.
It was only then that Lan He, a bit dazed, remarked, “Was I too impulsive just now?”
Song Futan almost lost his composure, suddenly tense. “What do you mean?”
What was this—second thoughts?
Lan He said, “I meant, maybe we should have waited a bit longer before chaining ourselves together. The soul-reaping chain can be extended, but it’s not infinitely long. From now on, we probably won’t be able to be too far apart. I’m afraid… one of us might have to move.”
Song Futan finally understood what he was getting at and, oddly enough, felt pleased. “Hmm.”
Back in the meditation room, Hu 79 had been too scared of First Lady Hu to show herself. Now, she finally poked her head out of the backpack and looked at their hands. “A soul-reaping chain, huh?”
Lan He: “Hmm.”
Song Futan’s hand was bound with Lan He’s, their two red marks together. Song Futan might not be able to cheat the system anymore, but the two of them could now fight side by side. They exchanged a glance, a faint excitement in their hearts.
Hu 79 sighed dramatically. “I’m just a little puzzled—how can someone turn a soul-reaping chain into something that feels like a red string of fate?”
Lan He: “…”
Song Futan: “…”
The author has something to say:
First Lady Hu: These two are locked together! And the key’s been swallowed by a monk!
Old Bai: Continuing the path of Impermanence? I’m thrilled beyond measure!
I did not even think of that XD