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

Zhao Ya still felt that she might not be fully awake.

This dream is rather absurd.

She sat on the sofa, with Ji Zuodao on her left and Wang Bing on her right. Her two sons each had one arm around her, like her two guardians, calling her "Mom" on one side and "Mother" on the other, calling her so affectionately.

Zhao Ya fell into deep thought.

What's going on?

She clearly remembered that yesterday Wang Bing wanted nothing more than to devour Ji Zuodao alive; the hatred in his eyes was so intense it could be boiled into a pot of porridge.

How come these two are like brothers after just one night's sleep?

Zhao Ya looked at Ji Zuodao with suspicion.

Ji Zuodao felt her gaze, grinned, revealing a set of bright white teeth. His smile was as sincere as a newly consecrated Buddha statue in a temple, pure and innocent, harmless to humans and animals.

"Mom, don't overthink it. I talked to my brother all night last night and cleared up all the misunderstandings. You wouldn't believe it, we hit it off so well, and it felt like we'd known each other for ages. If we weren't brothers, I would have dragged him to the statue of Guan Yu to chop off a chicken's head, burn some paper money, and become sworn brothers."

Ji Zuodao spoke with such sincerity and deep emotion that it was truly moving. When he got emotional, he even patted Wang Bing's shoulder with just the right amount of force, carrying the unique care of an elder brother.

Ji Zhengdao nodded repeatedly, his head bobbing like a chicken pecking at rice, his face bearing a repentant expression that said, "I have deeply realized my mistake."

"Mom, I was blinded by greed and did so many terrible things. I thought about it all night last night, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized how awful I was."

"My brother is a magnanimous man and doesn't hold it against me, but I can't be ignorant. From now on, I'm the younger brother and he's the elder brother. If he says go east, I'll never go west; if he says beat the dog, I'll never chase the chicken."

As Ji Zhengdao spoke, he held up three fingers, making a gesture as if he were swearing an oath to the heavens: "If I ever have any disloyal intentions, may I be struck by lightning and die a horrible death."

Looking at the scene before her, Zhao Ya felt that something was amiss.

Despite her motherly bias, she knew Wang Bing's true character better than anyone else.

That child was spoiled from a young age and thought he was a celestial being who should be the center of the world.

Will he suddenly realize his mistakes overnight? Will he take the initiative to admit his errors? Will he willingly call Ji Zuodao "brother"?

Unless the sun rises in the west.

A thought suddenly flashed through Zhao Ya's mind, a thought that sent chills down her spine.

She remembered what Ji Zuodao did.

Chief of the Demon Management Section of Bureau 749.

They specialize in dealing with demons and monsters.

And it seems he's a heretical practitioner.

He wouldn't... kill Bing'er and then find something to impersonate Bing'er to fool me, would he?

The moment this thought crossed Zhao Ya's mind, she felt as if her heart had been squeezed tightly, the pain almost making it hard for her to breathe.

Her face turned pale instantly, her lips trembled slightly, and as she looked at Ji Zhengdao, her voice carried an undisguised tension and fear:

"Bing'er... Mom has a few questions for you."

Ji Zhengdao blinked, his face calm: "Mom, ask away."

Zhao Ya took a deep breath and began asking questions.

She asked about things that only she and Wang Bing knew, things that were not easily found out by outsiders.

For example, when Wang Bing was a child, he once secretly took her lipstick and drew on the wall. She caught him and beat him up.

For example, when Wang Bing broke through for the first time at the age of twelve, she couldn't control her spiritual power and shattered her favorite tea set.

For example, when Wang Bing was fifteen, he secretly went to a bar with his classmates and was caught and locked up for three days...

These are all trivial, private matters that outsiders would never know.

If the person in front of him is an imposter, he definitely wouldn't be able to answer.

After hearing these questions, Ji Zhengdao's expression remained unchanged, still calm and composed, even with a hint of a helpless smile that seemed to say, "Mom, why are you asking these questions?"

Then he began to answer.

He answered each question quickly, almost without pausing, as if these things were etched into his memory.

He was even able to fill in some details that Zhao Ya herself had almost forgotten.

For example, when he was drawing on the wall that time, he not only used lipstick but also Zhao Ya's eyebrow pencil to draw a crooked turtle.

For example, that tea set was brought back by Zhao Ya from Jingdezhen. It consisted of six pieces, three of which were broken, along with a teapot. The remaining two cups are still locked in the cabinet, and she can't bear to throw them away.

For example, the time he went to the bar, he was taken there by a friend of Wang Gang, who was later severely scolded by Wang Gang.

Ji Zhengdao's answer was fluent and flawless.

On the surface, he was as calm as an old dog, laughing and joking, but in his heart he was frantically searching through Wang Bing's memories.

Fortunately, he had thoroughly reviewed Wang Bing's memories last night, memorizing everything he should and shouldn't have, otherwise he might have been stumped by the questions.

However, revisiting these memories is quite disgusting—

All that bastard Wang Bing has in his head is how to please Old Master Wang and how to kill Ji Zuodao. The rest of his mind is full of filthy things, as dirty as a swill bucket.

Even Ji Zhengdao found it offensive when he read it.

As Zhao Ya listened, her doubts gradually dissipated.

These details are impossible to know without experiencing them firsthand.

Even an investigation couldn't possibly be conducted in such detail.

It seems it really is Bing'er herself.

Zhao Ya breathed a sigh of relief, and the expression on her face changed from tense to gratified.

But she was still a little worried and asked another question.

"So... when is Mom's birthday?"

Ji Zhengdao's smile froze instantly.

He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, then closed it again, just like a fish pulled ashore, his mouth opening and closing but unable to utter a single word.

Wang Bing doesn't seem to have any memory of this.

He frantically searched through Wang Bing's memories, going over them again and again, but he still couldn't find any information about Zhao Ya's birthday.

Damn it, you unlucky kid, you don't even remember your mom's birthday? Are you even human?

Ji Zhengdao cursed Wang Bing's ancestors for eighteen generations in his mind. Oh no, Wang Bing's ancestors were also Ji Zuodao's ancestors. Never mind, he couldn't curse them.

He quickly diverted a sliver of his attention and immersed himself in the eerie realm.

Deep within the domain, Wang Bing was bound hand and foot to a pillar, his entire body covered in wounds, looking as if he had just been pulled out of a pool of blood, utterly wretched.

Zhang Yucheng's inner demon was sitting next to him, holding a whip in his hand. The whip was soaked in salt water and looked painful.

This kid rested for seven seconds, then got a beating from Zhang Yucheng's inner demons.

Ji Zhengdao's spiritual avatar appeared before Wang Bing and immediately asked, "When is my mother's birthday?"

Wang Bing was taken aback: "Huh?"

"Tell me, what is Zhao Ya's birthday?"

Wang Bing was taken aback again, then shook his head: "I...I don't know..."

"You don't know?!" Ji Zhengdao's voice rose eight octaves. "That's your own mother! You don't even know your own mother's birthday?!"

"I really don't know!"

Wang Bing was almost in tears.

"I've never memorized this before!!"

Zhang Yucheng's inner demon listened from the side, clicked its tongue twice, and shook its head: "Unfilial wretch."

Then he swung the whip in his hand again.

"Crackling and popping—"