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

After walking for a while, Ji Zuodao casually spoke up, his tone as relaxed as if he were talking about the weather: "By the way, Lao Zhu, you just said that it's just you and Qi Qi left? Then what is the power of this divine treasure—"

Zhu Cheng's expression darkened slightly for a moment.

Ji Zuodao saw Zhu Cheng's lips purse down very slightly before quickly returning to normal.

"With every gain, there is a loss," Zhu Cheng said, his voice lower than before. "At least... those people in the family left with smiles on their faces."

This statement is rambling and doesn't make any clear sense, but its meaning is quite obvious.

Ji Zuodao was silent for a few seconds, then spoke:

"Is it really worth it? If I'm not mistaken, these eunuchs, palace maids, soldiers, and all that stuff are monsters, right? You're the only one left in the Zhu family. You've sacrificed so much, just to get a pseudo-secret realm, plus a monster from that secret realm?"

Zhu Cheng did not answer immediately.

He stopped and stood in the middle of the passageway, looking up at the golden glazed tiles in front of him.

Sunlight shone on his face, casting a play of light and shadow in his eyes.

After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice soft but carrying an undeniable certainty:

"In my opinion, they are not strange at all. As long as they are loyal to the Ming Dynasty, they are all citizens of the Ming Dynasty."

Ji Zuodao looked at him, remained silent for a few seconds, and then slowly clapped his hands, the "clap clap clap" sounding particularly crisp in the empty passageway.

"Good, good awareness."

He said "okay" with a smile on his face, but only he knew how much sincerity and how much sarcasm were in his tone.

The group continued walking forward.

After passing through three palace gates and around a huge bronze cauldron, a magnificent hall appeared in front of us.

The white marble steps in front of the hall are laid one step at a time, totaling eighty-one steps, symbolizing the supreme status of the emperor.

On either side of the steps stood two rows of guards, dressed in golden armor and holding long halberds, motionless like statues.

As Ji Zuodao walked, he kept turning back to look at Old Huang and the two maids who were following behind them.

Old Huang was still wearing that flying fish robe, with an embroidered spring knife at his waist, his steps were steady, and his eyes were fixed straight ahead.

The two maids kept their heads down and followed closely behind, their footsteps so light they made almost no sound.

"Speaking of which—"

Ji Zuodao spoke casually, "These three people—one Imperial Guard and two palace maids—could they be some strange creatures who came from a secret realm?"

Zhu Cheng shook his head: "The secret realm has rules, and those who are unorthodox cannot leave. These people are all trained by the Zhu family for generations and have nothing to do with the secret realm."

"Damn it!" Ji Zuodao slapped his thigh, the sound booming in the empty passageway, startling Qi Qi who was walking with her head down.

"Living things can't be taken out, but inanimate things can? No wonder you didn't care about the amount of antiques I took. So, all those so-called antiques were just ordinary bottles and jars to you?"

"I was wondering why your shop is full of Ming Dynasty antiques. Are you treating this secret place like a wholesale market?"

A slow smile crept onto Zhu Cheng's face.

That smile carried a sense of exhilaration, like someone who had been holding their breath for two months and had finally found an outlet.

He turned his head, looked at Ji Zuodao, and said with a hint of mockery in his tone:

"Didn't I say from the beginning? If you like it, take it. There's no need to break in and pick the lock. To me, the lock you broke is more valuable than those bottles and jars."

Ji Zuodao opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, finally letting out a resentful "Damn it."

He muttered curses as he lowered his head, kicking a non-existent pebble by the roadside, while his mind raced.

Zhu Cheng did not lie about any of the questions asked earlier.

Let's organize it then.

"There are rules in the secret realm." — This is true.

"Only Qiqi and I are left in the Zhu family"—this is also true.

"Those antiques are worthless to him"—this is even more true, as can be seen from his smug expression.

Therefore, of all the things Zhu Cheng just said, the only one that could possibly be false is that one sentence—

"The rule in the secret realm is that the purer the bloodline, the higher the loyalty."

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

If that statement is false, then what is the real rule?

Why do those strange beings have such awe of Qiqi?

Is it because of the bloodline in her body?

Or is it for some other reason?

As Ji Zuodao was pondering this, suddenly, a silvery laugh came from ahead.

Two young palace maids, who looked to be only thirteen or fourteen years old, with their hair in double buns and wearing pink ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress), were running over from around the corner of the passageway, laughing and joking.

One ran ahead, and the other chased behind, each holding a crabapple blossom they had broken off from somewhere. The petals fluttered down as they ran.

They were so engrossed in running that they didn't notice anyone in front of them.

As she ran closer, the young palace maid in front suddenly stopped, recognizing the person before her—

Zhu Cheng stood at the front, dressed in a python robe, his face calm; half a step behind him was Ji Zuodao, who was holding Qi Qi's hand; further back were Lao Huang and two maids.

The smile on the little palace maid's face froze instantly.

The crabapple blossom in her hand fell to the ground with a "thud".

Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to her knees with a thud, her forehead hitting the blue bricks with a loud thud. Her voice was choked with sobs: "This servant deserves to die! This servant deserves to die! I have offended Your Highness! Please, Your Highness, spare my life!"

The young palace maid who had been chasing after her also knelt down, trembling like a leaf, and could barely speak: "This...this servant deserves to die..."

Ji Zuodao looked down.

He saw a small wildflower growing in the crack between the blue bricks where the two palace maids had knelt.

I don't know what kind of wildflower it was, but its petals were pale purple and only the size of a fingernail. It swayed gently in the afternoon sun and was in full bloom.

Then, the knees of the two palace maids pressed down firmly on it.

With a soft "plop," the little flower was crushed into pieces, its purple petals breaking into several fragments that clung to the blue bricks, their juice seeping into the cracks between the bricks.

Zhu Cheng frowned.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but after glancing at Qiqi behind him, he swallowed the words that were on the tip of his tongue.

He was silent for a few seconds, then finally just waved his hand, his voice tinged with helplessness: "Go down. Don't let it happen again."

The two palace maids, as if granted a pardon, kowtowed repeatedly, then got up, hunched over, and ran backwards, disappearing in a flash around the corner of the passageway.

Ji Zuodao stood there, looking at the crushed little flower on the ground, his eyes narrowing slightly.

He kept that image in his heart.

I don't know why, but a voice inside me inexplicably told him—

Write it down.

In most cases, Ji Zuodao still has a lot of faith in his sixth sense, which he calls Zuodao's sixth sense.