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

"I know you don't believe me. But what I'm saying is true."

"Okay, okay, if you say it's true, then it's true."

Ji Zuodao nodded perfunctorily.

Then, he dropped his nonchalant expression and put on a serious one.

Ji Zuodao took a step forward and stood in front of Zhu Cheng, the distance between them less than a foot.

He lowered his head slightly, looked directly into Zhu Cheng's eyes, and said, word by word:

Whether what you say is true or false, remember this:

Ji Zuodao's voice was not loud, even a little soft, but it carried a chill that sent shivers down one's spine, like the north wind blowing in through a crack in the door in the dead of winter.

"Qiqi is my younger sister."

"No matter who she was before, what her identity was, or what her background was—she is now my sister. She is my sister, Ji Zuodao's sister. She is the one I brought from the tomb."

She called me brother.

"She's mine."

Ji Zuodao reached out and tapped Zhu Cheng's chest with his index finger, the pressure light: "Anyone who wants to take her away from me, no matter who they are, what their reasons are, or what pretext they're using—"

He grinned, revealing a smile that could be described as radiant. But there was no warmth in that smile, only a cold, devoid of any temperature-related killing intent.

I'll kill whoever it is.

"A fight to the death."

A crack finally appeared on Zhu Cheng's gentle smile.

He had met all sorts of people and dealt with all sorts of strange and unsavory characters, and he considered himself to have honed his self-cultivation to a level of perfection.

But this young man in front of him, with a lollipop in his mouth and a nonchalant attitude, could somehow provoke his anger with just a few words.

It's like a fishbone stuck in your throat, you can't swallow it, and you can't spit it out. It's stuck there, neither going down nor coming up, and it's really uncomfortable.

He raised his head and looked directly at Ji Zuodao. His gaze was no longer gentle and yielding, but instead carried a rare sharpness.

Like a knife that has been hidden in its sheath for many years, finally revealing half an inch of its sharpness.

"What does 'regardless of who she was before' mean? Who she was before is important. Extremely important."

"What do you think I'm fighting with you over? Custody? Whose toys? Let me tell you, what's in your blood can't be erased."

"You can deny it, you can pretend to be confused, you can raise her as an ordinary little girl—but you can't change the facts."

"Her surname is Zhu, not Ji. The blood flowing in her veins is that of the imperial family accumulated over three hundred years of the Ming Dynasty."

"Her father was the Chongzhen Emperor, her mother was Empress Zhou, and the year she was born, a general amnesty was declared, and the people celebrated. Did you know these things?"

Ji Zuodao didn't speak, but just squinted at him, slowly turning the lollipop in his mouth to the other side.

"You brought her out of the grave, gave her food, clothes, and taught her to speak and read. I thank you. I will remember this kindness, and the Zhu family will remember it too."

"But you can't treat her as your private property just because she calls you 'brother.' She's not a magical artifact you picked up, nor is she a dog you keep."

"She is Princess Yongning of the Ming Dynasty, a direct descendant of Emperor Taizu Gao. This identity is not something you can erase."

Zhu Cheng paused, his voice lowering but becoming even more forceful:

"You think you're protecting her? You're just keeping her confined in your own world. Have you even considered what she truly needs?"

"She needs a place where people can understand her, accept her, and not look at her with strange eyes. In that world, she wouldn't have to hide her identity, pretend to be an ordinary child, or live in constant fear of being discovered as a zombie."

"What you gave her was a cage. A warm, comfortable cage built with the name 'brother.' But a cage is still a cage."

"You say you treat her like a younger sister, and I believe you. But have you ever considered that what she needs might be more than just a brother?"

"She needs someone to tell her who she is, where she comes from, who her ancestors were, and what kind of glory and responsibility her bloodline carries. She needs someone to help her find that lost memory, to help her fill in that blank past. And these—"

Zhu Cheng looked directly into Ji Zuodao's eyes and spoke slowly and deliberately:

"You can't give her that."

That statement does make some sense.

Ji Zuodao had to admit that some of the points Zhu Cheng made did indeed touch on issues he had been avoiding.

He truly knew nothing about Qi Qi's background, her origins, or that blank past of hers.

All he knows now is that Qiqi came out of the tomb, is from the Ming Dynasty, and is a zombie.

But when asked about anything more specific, he knew nothing.

He had never talked about these things with Qiqi.

It's not that I don't want to talk, it's that I don't know how to start.

He was afraid that Qiqi would ask about things she couldn't remember, afraid to see the confusion in her eyes, and afraid that he wouldn't be able to give her the answers she wanted.

But Zhu Cheng's words were tantamount to telling him: See, you can't do it, can you? I'll have to do it.

This is really annoying.

Ji Zuodao narrowed his eyes, about to retort, when suddenly—

Light footsteps echoed from the stairwell, accompanied by a crisp, slightly childlike voice: "Brother! Are you upstairs?"

Both of them were taken aback.

Then, a textbook-perfect scene unfolded.

The murderous aura on Ji Zuodao's face vanished in an instant, as if a switch had been flipped.

Instead, he wore a warm, spring-like smile, with the corners of his mouth slightly upturned and his eyes crinkling, looking just like the friendly older brother next door, incredibly approachable.

He even straightened his collar and smoothed out the wrinkles in the hem of his trench coat from the exertion, making himself look more presentable.

Zhu Cheng's side reacted just as quickly.

The sharp edge on his face vanished instantly, and he reverted to his usual gentle and harmless demeanor as the antique shop owner.

He even had time to raise his hand to tidy his hair, which had been ruffled by the strong wind, and straighten the collar of his Zhongshan suit, which had been askew when he dodged.

The two exchanged a glance, conveying a tacit understanding—

The meaning in his eyes was clear: put what happened earlier aside for now, and don't let it slip in front of the child.

Qiqi's little head peeked out from around the corner of the stairs.

She was still holding the wooden bird in her hands, her little face filled with curiosity. She looked at Ji Zuodao, then at Zhu Cheng, and tilted her head: "Brother, what are you doing?"

"It's nothing, it's nothing."

Ji Zuodao smiled and waved his hand, his voice deliberately softened, a stark contrast to his murderous demeanor just moments before.

"My brother was talking to this older brother about something, and they're done. Why did you come up here?"

Qiqi held up the wooden bird in her hand, shook it, and it made a crisp "chirp" sound: "Qiqi wants to show this to her brother! The little bird that big brother gave me is so much fun!"

"Really? That's amazing?"

Ji Zuodao squatted down, took the wooden bird, and pretended to look at it from all angles before handing it back to Qiqi with a smile, saying, "Qiqi, you must take good care of it."

"Yes!" Qiqi nodded vigorously, then carefully held the wooden bird in her hands as if it were a rare treasure.

Ji Zuodao stood up and turned to Zhu Cheng.

He still wore that warm smile on his face, but the temperature in his eyes had dropped to freezing.

He took a step forward, leaned close to Zhu Cheng's ear, and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear:

"Take your dogs and get out of here."

"Don't let me see you again. And don't let me know you've ever come near Qiqi."

Ji Zuodao straightened up, patted Zhu Cheng's shoulder lightly, as if brushing off dust from a piece of clothing.

"Next time, I won't reason with you."

His voice was soft and gentle, even with a hint of a smile, as if he were whispering something intimate.

But the chill in those words could freeze a person's blood.

Zhu Cheng's expression remained unchanged.

He simply nodded slightly, then turned to Qiqi, giving her a gentle smile:

"Little girl, you had so much fun with that wooden bird. Next time, your big brother will bring you some other fun things."

"Really?" Qiqi's eyes lit up immediately.

"Really." Zhu Cheng nodded with a smile. "Big brother keeps his word."

Then, he placed a box in Ji Zuodao's hand, turned around, and strode downstairs.

He has to go and get those incompetent henchmen out of trouble.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway, growing fainter as they faded into the distance…

Ji Zuodao stood there, watching Zhu Cheng's figure disappear, the smile on his face gradually fading away.

He looked down at the wooden bird in Qiqi's hand.

The wooden bird is exquisitely crafted, with clear feather textures, and even the fine lines on its claws are meticulously carved, clearly showing that a lot of thought and effort was put into its creation.

People who put so much effort into these details either genuinely love the craft or have ulterior motives.

Ji Zuodao narrowed his eyes, the doubt in his mind growing ever larger.

Qiqi tugged at his sleeve, tilted her little face up, and asked curiously, "Brother, who is that big brother?"

Ji Zuodao snapped out of his daze, squatted down, gently patted Qiqi's head, and said with a smile, "It's none of your business, don't worry about him."

He paused, then added, "If you see that older brother again, stay away from him, okay?"

Qiqi tilted her head and nodded, seemingly understanding but not quite: "Oh."

She looked down at the wooden bird in her hand, then looked up at Ji Zuodao, hesitated for a moment, and asked softly:

"Then... we can't keep this little bird either?"

Ji Zuodao paused for a moment, then laughed and gently flicked Qi Qi's nose:

"Of course I want it! It's a gift from someone, why not take it? It's free anyway, might as well take it."

He stood up and took Qiqi's hand:

"Come on, let's go downstairs, your brother will take you to get something delicious to eat."

Qiqi obediently followed beside him, took a couple of steps, then couldn't help but look down at the wooden bird in her hand, and flicked a small mechanism under its tail—

"Chirp!"

The wooden bird flapped its wings in her hand and made a clear chirping sound.

Qiqi giggled, her laughter as clear and crisp as a silver bell, echoing through the empty corridor.