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

"You don't need to worry that I'll hurt that girl. In terms of relationship, I'm closer to her than you are. You're the outsider."

Zhu Cheng said calmly.

Ji Zuodao squinted his eyes, making a "crunch" sound as he chewed the lollipop in his mouth.

Crumbs of sugar rubbed between his teeth, and his voice carried a chilling undertone squeezed from deep within his throat: "Got it, kid, you're here to die."

Beneath Ji Zuodao's skin, the black veins began to writhe as if they were alive, like tiny snakes crawling under his skin.

The grotesque pattern spread from his neck to his cheeks, and then from his cheeks to the corners of his eyes, making his originally handsome face instantly appear ferocious and terrifying.

From the shadows behind him, a faint, chilling flapping sound gradually arose.

"Buzzing—"

At first, there were only a few scattered crimson spots of light, appearing and disappearing in the darkness, like will-o'-the-wisps rising in a graveyard at night.

But soon, the spots of light became more and more numerous and denser, surging out like a flood bursting its banks, and gathering behind him into a turbulent black cloud.

Bloodwinged black mosquito.

They hovered in mid-air behind Ji Zuodao, their wings vibrating rapidly and emitting a death-stricken low hum.

Countless compound eyes, gleaming with greedy and icy light, locked onto the oblivious man before them.

If Ji Zuodao only wanted to teach this kid a lesson earlier, to make him remember it, now he has decided to kill him.

Those who practice heresy are all a bunch of mentally unstable idiots.

This is a universally acknowledged principle in the spiritual practice community.

Who in their right mind would practice such evil and harmful techniques that harm others for personal gain and violate morality?

Nine out of ten people who can go down this path are crazy.

The rest are perverts, lunatics, the kind of people who would see a dog on the street and wonder if they could use it to refine weapons.

Ji Zuodao was an absolute madman.

He usually seems carefree and easygoing, always chatting with anyone, as if nothing in the world could bother him.

But if you really touch his sore spot, touch what he truly cares about—

That's not something that can be solved by reasoning.

He'll really go crazy if anyone touches his things.

Just like when Doggo was arrested before.

He had only one thing on his mind—how to get Dog Master out of trouble.

Even without any help, he dared to storm Jinshan Temple all by himself.

At worst, I'll just die there. I can't let Dog Master suffer at the hands of those bald monks.

Now, someone is telling him that that person is closer to Qiqi? And he's the outsider?

Ji Zuodao's lips slowly parted, revealing a truly radiant smile.

But there was no warmth in that smile, only a cold, utterly devoid of any temperature of killing intent.

It's like the north wind blowing in through the cracks in the door in the dead of winter, capable of freezing you to the bone.

Zhu Cheng seemed oblivious to Ji Zuodao's murderous aura and the overwhelming swarms of blood-winged black mosquitoes, continuing unhurriedly:

"Compared to you, Qiqi might be more suitable to live with me."

This statement is like pouring a ladle of cold water into a pot of boiling oil.

Ji Zuodao got angry.

He didn't waste any more words.

He suddenly raised his right hand, spread his five fingers, and countless black veins shot out from his palm like arrows!

Those massive tendons traced eerie arcs in the air, making a "whoosh" sound as they pierced through the air, simultaneously striking Zhu Cheng's face, neck, and heart from all directions!

This time, there was no holding back.

That elbow strike was, in the end, a warning, meant to make this kid back down.

But now, Ji Zuodao has no intention of giving him a way out.

Zhu Cheng's eyes narrowed slightly, his steps shifted, and his body swayed from side to side like a willow catkin in the wind, narrowly avoiding the piercing of several major tendons.

But under Ji Zuodao's control, those black tendrils were like venomous snakes with life. If they missed their first attack, they would immediately change direction, make a tricky arc in the air, and bite again!

Zhu Cheng sidestepped a large tendon aimed straight at his throat, and then raised his hand to parry a sweeping attack aimed at his temple. His movements remained calm and his steps steady, but a fine layer of sweat had already seeped from his forehead.

Just as a large black tendon was about to pierce through his shoulder blade, Zhu Cheng suddenly spoke.

Do you know Qiqi's true identity?

The dozen or so large black veins stopped abruptly less than an inch from Zhu Cheng's skin.

It was as if the pause button had been pressed.

The tip of the large tendon hung in mid-air, trembling slightly and emitting a very faint "humming" sound, as if it were waiting for its master's decision.

Ji Zuodao didn't speak, but just squinted at Zhu Cheng.

The murderous intent in his eyes had not subsided, but was only temporarily suppressed, like a lurking beast ready to pounce again at any moment.

Zhu Cheng exhaled softly, straightened his collar which had been ruffled by the strong wind, and moved unhurriedly.

It was as if the life-or-death struggle just now was nothing more than a small warm-up exercise.

He raised his head and looked at Ji Zuodao, his gaze calm and sincere.

"Princess Yongning, daughter of Emperor Chongzhen of the Ming Dynasty."

He spoke slowly and deliberately, enunciating each word clearly, "This is Qi Qi's identity."

Ji Zuodao frowned slightly, but did not interrupt him.

"She and I are both descendants of the Ming Dynasty royal family."

Zhu Cheng continued:

"Her father was the sixteenth emperor of the Ming Dynasty, Emperor Chongzhen, Zhu Youjian. Her mother was Empress Xiaojielie, née Zhou. She was a legitimate princess of the Ming Dynasty, of pure blood and of noble status."

He paused, his gaze passing over Ji Zuodao's shoulder and looking towards the lobby downstairs—

There, Qiqi was squatting in the corner, intently playing with the wooden bird, completely unaware of what was happening upstairs.

"So you don't need to worry that I will hurt her."

Zhu Cheng withdrew his gaze and looked at Ji Zuodao again, his tone sincere.

"On the contrary, I will protect her. Those spies were sent by me. They've been tracking Qiqi for months, and you only discovered their existence today."

"If I really wanted to hurt Qiqi, I would have had plenty of opportunities."

"I know her daily route to and from school, the shops she frequents, and where she likes to play. If I wanted to harm her, I wouldn't have needed to wait until today."

His expression was very sincere.

His tone was very sincere.

His eyes were also very sincere.

By any measure, it doesn't seem like a lie.

But Ji Zuodao didn't believe it.

Why?

Because he often had this expression when he was a child.

When he was a child, he especially liked to flirt with a little fox who had a lot of pocket money.

Those little foxes were so beautiful, with bright red fur that was glossy and shiny, and round, bright eyes that made them so endearing.

Every time he went to play with it, he would have a sincere look on his face, a bright smile, and say, "Little fox, little fox, I like you so much, shall we be friends?" He would also be holding a chicken leg he had stolen from the kitchen, and he was incredibly attentive.

The little fox was completely charmed by him, and every time it would come running over happily, circling around him, its tail wagging like a fan.

Then, when the little fox lowers its guard and is happily eating, he will pull out the wooden stick he prepared in advance from behind his back—

"Bang" it.

Decisive and ruthless.

After hitting the little fox with the stick, he turned it over, took the half-eaten chicken leg out of its mouth, stuffed it into his own mouth, and then happily plundered pocket money and treats from the little fox.

Therefore, Ji Zuodao knew all too well.

In this world, some people, the more sincere their expression, the more guilty they are. The brighter their smile, the more ruthless they are.

Zhu Cheng's expression was very sincere.

What he said makes a lot of sense.

The logic is sound, the evidence is sufficient, and the attitude is sincere; it is almost impossible to find any flaws.

But Ji Zuodao simply didn't believe it.

Because he himself is a master in this field.

It's hardest for a scammer to scam another scammer.

The tactics you've used, the opponent has used too; the tricks you've employed, the opponent has employed too.

Trying to fool him? No way.

Do you really think Qiqi is suited to live in modern society?

Zhu Cheng suddenly asked, his tone carrying a hint of serious concern.

"A little zombie from the past is an anomaly, not only among ordinary people, but even among Qi cultivators. Her identity, her origins, and her very existence are all out of place in this world."

He took a step forward, his gaze intense: "And people are most intolerant of those who are different. You should know this better than I do."

Ji Zuodao remained silent.

He knew that what Zhu Cheng said was true.

He himself was an oddball.

From a young age, he knew he was different from others.

While other children were playing with mud, he was playing with human skin;

While other children were reciting texts, he was reciting the steps of how to refine a person;

While other children were being praised by their teachers, he was being chased and beaten all over the mountain by his master with a machete.

He was never a normal person.

He never thought about becoming a normal person.

But Qiqi...

"The Ming Dynasty is her true home."

Zhu Cheng's voice rang out again, carrying a firm and unquestionable power.

"There, she doesn't have to hide her identity, worry about being discovered, or live cautiously. She can live openly and honestly, enjoying the honor and status she deserves as a princess."

He extended his hand, palm up, as if inviting: "I can take her to the Ming Dynasty."

Ji Zuodao remained silent for a few seconds.

Then, he looked up at Zhu Cheng, a strange expression on his face—

The expression was somewhere between mockery and pity, as if looking at a patient with a mental disability.

"Do you need me to call the mental hospital's number?"

"The Ming Dynasty? The Qing Dynasty has been gone for so many years, don't you know?"