A heretical cultivator in Bureau 749, I'm the fiercest at pulling out tendons and skinning peop

Dog sneered through his nose, without even twitching his tail.

"You're dreaming, aren't you?"

It lifted its eyelids, its dog eyes filled with undisguised contempt, as if to say, "You're kidding me."

"To attain the true form of Buddhism, do you know what you need? Great enlightenment, great perseverance, a strong affinity with Buddhism, and a heart of pure, crystal-clear compassion! None of these can be lacking!"

Dog-Grandpa pointed at his paws and began to complain, his tone growing increasingly disdainful.

"Examine your conscience. Oh right, you probably don't. Look at yourself, out of those four, which one do you fit the bill?"

"A filthy, rotten, and utterly despicable wretch like you, even the King of Hell would probably have to politely light you a cigarette before sending you off to wreak havoc next door!"

It paused, then delivered the fatal blow:

"If you actually succeed, that old bald monk Yongjue will probably be so angry he'll kick his coffin lid off and crawl out to confront you—why should he?"

Upon hearing this, Ji Zuodao was not angry at all. Instead, he let out a long sigh of relief, and his whole body visibly relaxed as he slumped back into his pillow.

"It's good that it's not Buddha or Bodhisattva, it's good that it's not..."

He murmured to himself, patting his chest with lingering fear.

"It startled me. If I really cultivated myself into someone covered in Buddha's light, I'm afraid my three masters would have to rush over overnight with a train to clean up the mess—it would be too disgraceful to their heretical patriarch."

Speaking of Dharma images, he suddenly remembered something and sat up abruptly.

He scooped up Qiqi, who was diligently massaging his back, and held her in his arms. He gently pinched the little girl's soft cheeks with two fingers, pulling them slightly outwards, and deliberately put on a stern face.

"Well, you little brat, you clearly have the cultivation level of a Dharma Aspect, but you didn't even tell your brother? Hmm? And what about Dog Lord—"

He turned his head and glanced at the dog that was sprawled out on the chair.

"So, all this time I'm the one protecting you guys, but when it really comes down to it, it turns out I'm the one who's clinging to your coattails?"

Dog Lord didn't even bother to lift his eyelids.

"Does Master Dog intend to go around shouting that I have a Dharma image while holding a megaphone? Master Dog has always been low-key."

Qiqi's cheeks were being pinched, her speech was a little unclear, and her big eyes blinked innocently.

"Brother didn't ask Qiqi... Qiqi thought brother already knew..."

She paused, then added softly, "Brother, don't be angry."

"Angry? Of course not."

Ji Zuodao released his hand, rubbed Qiqi's cheek where a red mark had been pinched, and laughed without any seriousness.

Ji Zuodao was indeed not angry. What was there to be angry about?

Who doesn't have a few secrets?

Why should I tell you everything?

It's like you're in your own room... well, you know, you want to "reward" yourself. Would you go and give your parents a detailed report?

Is that the truth?

Therefore, Dog Master's past remains untold, and Ji Zuodao never inquires about it.

Just like this time, in that godforsaken place, Ji Zuodao never even considered asking why Dog Master's inner demons hadn't been triggered...

Some things are better left unasked.

Some lines don't need to be crossed.

This is probably the least tacit understanding between them.

Ji Zuodao let out a long yawn.

The exhaustion that came from forcibly impacting the Dharma Aspect Realm, emanating from the depths of the soul, was too much for the body to bear, even though the resurrection coin had restored it to its original state.

He held the soft Qiqi in his arms, his eyelids drooped, and his consciousness, like a kite with a broken string, drifted into a deep sleep.

I slept soundly for ages, and I don't know how much time passed.

In a daze, a faint, intermittent wailing sound, like a demonic chant, forcibly dragged him out of his deep sleep.

Ji Zuodao barely managed to lift his heavy eyelids and glanced blankly out the window—the daylight was still quite bright, and it was still a long way from dark.

"Who is it... wailing like that in the middle of the day..."

The commotion outside, filled with obvious sobs, grew louder and clearer.

Ji Zuodao was mostly awake. He scratched his messy hair, looking puzzled.

This tune... it sounds like someone died in someone's house?

He shuffled to the window in his slippers, half-dazed, and pushed it open with a "whoosh," leaning half his body out to look down.

Upon closer inspection, wow!

At the entrance of Seven Colors Media Co., Ltd., a rather impressive long queue had formed.

The group included men, women, young and old, each carrying, holding, or even slinging over their shoulders a variety of beautifully packaged gift boxes and bags that looked quite valuable.

But strangely, these people didn't have a trace of joy on their faces; instead, they all looked mournful.

Their brows furrowed, they sighed and sobbed, and some even exaggeratedly wiped away tears with their sleeves, their eyes red.

The atmosphere and the expressions were just like someone whose parents had died.

Ji Zuodao squinted and took a closer look, then chuckled.

Hey, quite a few of them are familiar faces!

When he visited these prominent "respectable people" in the Jinghai area a few days ago to collect taxes, he had a lot of dealings with them.

What's going on here?

Just as I was wondering, I heard a crisp "crunch, crunch" sound of sunflower seeds being cracked next to me.

Ji Zuodao turned his head and saw that the window next door was also open. Liu Ming was leisurely leaning on the windowsill, holding a handful of sunflower seeds and cracking them open with great interest, looking like a typical person who enjoys watching a good show.

"Brother Liu, what's going on?" Ji Zuodao naturally reached out his hand.

Liu Ming casually handed him a handful of sunflower seeds, a mischievous grin practically overflowing from his face, and gestured towards the downstairs area:

"What else could it be? They're sending gifts! To celebrate Director Zhang and his team's triumphant return and their regaining control of Jinghai!"

"A gift?"

Ji Zuodao, holding a melon seed, glanced at the grieving crowd downstairs, then at Liu Ming's gloating grin, and his lips twitched.

"Is this all the show of force? And those expressions?"

"Giving gifts? I'd believe you if you told me they were there for a funeral."

Liu Ming spat out a piece of sunflower seed shell with a "pfft," raised his chin at the mournful faces downstairs, and said with a tone full of schadenfreude:

"Feeling sorry for him? He deserves it!"

He counted on his fingers:

"For the past three years, Director Zhang and his team have been stuck in this mess. Without the local tyrant in Jinghai, these scoundrels have been causing all sorts of trouble. Their outward compliance is the least of their problems; just look at the tax revenue—"

Liu Ming chuckled:

"If it weren't for Brother Ji's recent door-to-door visits, clearing out everything that should and shouldn't have been collected, they would definitely still be trying to renege on their debts this year!"

"Well, when people heard that Director Zhang was back, some of them got nervous and tried to slip away from Jinghai to avoid the storm. And guess what happened?"

Liu Ming slapped the windowsill, overjoyed:

"Before we even left the city, Director Zhang personally led his men to ambush us at several key exit routes! The scene was... wow..."

Ji Zuodao listened with great interest, then cracked open another melon seed: "And then? Uncle Zhang cooked them all together?"

"How could that be!" Liu Ming shook his head. "Our Director Zhang is incredibly magnanimous, with a heart of gold!"

He imitated Zhang Yucheng's gentle yet unsettling tone:

"Director Zhang said at the time: 'Gentlemen, why panic? The situation over the past three years has been special, and some unavoidable exchanges are understandable to the bureau, and we will not hold them accountable. As for the taxes owed from the previous two years... let's just forget about them, no need to pay them back.'"

Liu Ming paused, his mischievous grin practically spilling out:

He also thoughtfully instructed everyone: "Go back and focus on managing your sect."

Ji Zuodao raised an eyebrow: "Uncle Zhang... is he really that kind?"

"Kindness?" Liu Ming scoffed. "The real show is yet to come!"

He cleared his throat and continued imitating, this time even seeming to have Zhang Yucheng's gentle yet chilling smile on his face:

Director Zhang then said: "It is a great joy that my colleagues in the bureau have escaped danger and returned safely. I thought it would be nice to take this opportunity to hold a simple welcome party to share the joy with our friends in the Jinghai cultivation community."

"Welcome to participate, no need to bring any special gifts."

Liu Ming deliberately emphasized and slowed down the word "special".

"The thought is enough."

"It's okay if I didn't bring it, I don't mind."

"Even if you bring it, don't make it too heavy or too conspicuous."

Liu Ming finished speaking in one breath and exchanged a glance with Ji Zuodao.

The two of them burst out laughing at the same time.

Ji Zuodao, holding a melon seed, shook his head and sighed:

"Brilliant, absolutely brilliant."

"Uncle Zhang's words were polite and gentle on the surface, like a spring breeze and soothing rain."

"But as long as they're not deaf or mentally impaired, they can understand what they're hearing—"

"In short," Ji Zuodao concluded, a sly smile spreading across his face, "I'm going to collect gifts, one from each family."

"I don't know who gave it to me, but I know perfectly well who didn't."

"I don't know who gave me something valuable, but I know exactly who gave me something worthless... Hehe, I know perfectly well."