Mushroom Drunk 1/2
He Zhouyan’s expression carried a hint of expectation, as if he had foreseen this outcome. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to properly take care of the cub.”
Otherwise, how could they have gone this long without assigning a guardian demon?
The fact that the cub still didn’t have a guardian seemed absurd, but strangely, He Zhouyan felt relieved.
The Director, on the other hand, was on the verge of exploding with anger. Gritting his teeth, he snapped, “Do you think we haven’t tried? The Star Disk has already made its prophecy!”
A prophecy from the Star Disk had to be followed—ignoring it would bring misfortune.
And the guardian demon it designated for the cub was Bai Ze. They wouldn’t dare assign anyone else.
He Zhouyan had heard about the Star Disk’s predictions from Qu Xiu, the gossipy Pi Xiu, but he hadn’t expected it to actually designate a guardian.
Suppressing a subtle sense of irritation, he raised an eyebrow. “Who is it?”
“I can’t tell you,” the Director replied stiffly.
“No matter who it is, they clearly haven’t fulfilled their duty as a guardian demon,” He Zhouyan’s gaze turned cold. “Does such a demon even deserve the title?”
No, they didn’t—because that demon was you.
The Taotie’s face twitched, completely shedding the composed and dignified image of a director.
But he couldn’t say it outright—otherwise, the cub would be displeased.
With a deep sigh, he asked, “Why are you really here? Just to ask about the guardian demon?”
His instincts told him there was more to it.
“No,” He Zhouyan paused. “You’re incapable of raising the cub, but I can.”
“If the guardian designated by the Star Disk refuses to take responsibility, then I will.”
His tone was firm—this was not a discussion, but a declaration.
Though the decision seemed impulsive, it had actually been carefully considered. Ever since he realized how much he cared about the cub, he had made up his mind.
Their presence affected his emotions, and he was not someone who ran from his feelings. Deep in his blood ran the possessiveness of a divine beast. When he cared about something, he had to keep it close and protect it.
It just felt right, as if the cub had always belonged by his side.
“No!” Taotie, overcome with emotion, slammed his hands on the table and stood up.
But before he could finish his protest, another voice cut him off.
“You may.”
The Deputy Director entered with slow, deliberate steps, nodding at He Zhouyan.
Like the Director, he was one of the few who knew that the Star Disk had designated He Zhouyan. And unlike the Director, he had a better grasp of the bigger picture.
With one swift motion, he pressed down on the enraged Taotie, forcing him back into his seat. Then, with a smile, he turned to He Zhouyan.
“Of course, we must find a guardian demon for the cub as soon as possible. This matter cannot be delayed. You, as the all-knowing Bai Ze, are more meticulous than any high-ranking demon. If you are willing, it would be ideal.”
Taotie, being a ferocious beast, had a naturally short temper. He was itching to lash out, but the Deputy Director silenced him with a sharp, warning glance.
Unlike the Director, the Deputy Director was far better at negotiations. With just a few words, he had successfully appointed He Zhouyan as the cub’s new guardian—at least temporarily.
However, he wasn’t about to let his guard down completely. Smiling slowly, he added, “Of course, our decision alone isn’t enough. What truly matters is whether the cub is willing. Tell me, Mr. He, do you think he like you?”
The Deputy Director was genuinely curious. He wasn’t sure what Bai Ze had done, but he knew for a fact that the cub had disliked him before. Yet, after just a few days of being neighbors, something had clearly changed.
He Zhouyan fell silent for a moment. He still remembered the way the cub had looked at him when they first moved in.
There had been a sense of wariness—not the fear that other low-ranking demons showed, but a genuine dislike.
It would be a lie to say he didn’t care. But the cub had never spoken to him about it.
Though he had spent a few days in the village disguised as a small Bai Ze, endearing himself to the cub, it wasn’t enough to say he liked him.
Still, He Zhouyan never showed his true thoughts in front of others. His gaze turned sharp.
“That’s none of your concern.”
. . . . .
Maybe it was because the two cases he solved were somewhat well-known that some news about him spread within the exorcist circle.
Rumors circulated about a young exorcist with no known background but exceptional talent.
Because of this, Lu Congxing’s agency even received invitations from established exorcist families, and someone had added him on WeChat without permission.
To keep up with modern trends, some exorcist families were no longer as fixated on lineage as they had been in the past. Instead, they sought to recruit independent exorcists to strengthen their ranks.
Lu Congxing, of course, refused. His journey into exorcism wasn’t by chance, nor was it about preserving a legacy. He had simply been plagued by ghosts since childhood, constantly facing life-threatening encounters. Most of the exorcism techniques he knew were things he had figured out on his own in order to survive. Back then, he had been too young to realize that ordinary exorcists weren’t supposed to be able to summon ghostly flames. That fire was his innate source flame.
It was completely different from orthodox exorcism techniques.
Unsurprisingly, the exorcist family wasn’t expecting rejection. They sent another message, asking why.
They were rather persistent.
Lu Congxing glanced at the sender’s name on his phone—”Lin,” displayed prominently.
There were many exorcist families, but the most powerful were the Four Great Clans, one of which was the Lin family.
Even so, Lu Congxing remained unfazed. He rejected them again, this time more decisively, and blocked the contact to avoid further disturbance.
Besides this unexpected interruption, another person had also messaged him.
It was the same person who had added him on WeChat alongside He Zhouyan that day—a single-character name: “Gu.”
Their profile picture was a cat, seemingly taken by themselves.
The message contained just three inexplicable words: [I’m sorry.]
Lu Congxing had already suspected that this person was Gu Hanyin. Now, seeing this message, he was even more certain.
This film emperor wasn’t a bad person—just incredibly awkward.
After being rescued from the depths of the temple, he had probably realized just how biased he had been against exorcists. This apology was likely for repeatedly calling Lu Congxing a ‘little charlatan’ at the time.
However, considering that he had added Lu Congxing on WeChat that very day but only now sent a message, Lu Congxing could easily imagine him overthinking it for ages before finally, begrudgingly, sending the apology.
Lu Congxing simply replied, [It’s fine,] and didn’t bother checking the chat again.
As his reputation grew, his agency finally started gaining traction. He even had people showing up in person.
Unfortunately, there was no one at the office. His only employee, Di Jiang, was busy elsewhere. The visitor must have noticed the contact information posted on the door because they refused to leave and ended up calling instead.
A mirror ghost emerged from a nearby mirror, looking utterly dejected. “Want me to scare them off for you?”
Lu Congxing frowned. “That’s my client.”
The mirror ghost’s eyelids drooped, clearly not understanding. Judging by his attitude, he must have been someone who hated working when he was alive.
Though Lu Congxing’s living space had upgraded from a cramped apartment to a spacious and bright apartment, the downside was that his commute to the agency had also increased.
Unlike before, when he could just take the elevator downstairs and be at work, now he actually had to travel.
As expected, there was a price to pay for absorbing He Zhouyan’s spiritual energy.
Just as Lu Congxing sighed while stepping off the elevator, he looked up and saw the very person he had been thinking about.
He Zhouyan’s lips curved slightly. “Where are you going?”
A moment ago, he had been a little hedgehog, secretly rubbing against someone for spiritual energy. Now, for some reason, Lu Congxing felt a twinge of guilt. Without thinking, he blurted out that he was heading to the office.
He looked very well-behaved.
He Zhouyan raised an eyebrow. “This late?”
Only then did Lu Congxing realize that the sky had already darkened without him noticing.
Before he could respond, He Zhouyan spoke again. “I’ll give you a ride.”
“No need.” Lu Congxing’s eyes widened slightly.
His round, almond-shaped eyes made him look truly adorable.
He Zhouyan, in a great mood, declared, “Starting today, I’ll be your temporary guardian demon.”
It was like someone had dropped a deep-sea bomb on him—Lu Congxing was completely stunned.
By the time he processed the news, he had already unconsciously gotten into He Zhouyan’s car.
He sat there quietly for a moment, buckled his seatbelt, and then hesitantly asked, “Did the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs say something to you?”
His pale fingers clutched the seatbelt tightly, knuckles turning slightly white.
“No, I went to them on my own,” He Zhouyan replied calmly, pressing down on the accelerator.
The sleek black car smoothly merged into traffic.
It seemed like he still didn’t know that He Zhouyan had been personally assigned as his guardian by the Star Disk. Even the Director and Deputy Director had kept that detail quiet.
Lu Congxing let out a small sigh of relief, just as he was about to refuse—
“Of course, this is only temporary.” Even without turning his head, He Zhouyan seemed to sense the hesitation on the cub’s face. “If you’re unwilling, you can go to the bureau at any time to terminate our arrangement.”
Like a patient hunter, he carefully played with his prey’s emotions.
Sure enough, Lu Congxing hesitated. He had been about to reject the offer, but now his voice was barely above a whisper. “Temporary?”
“Mhm. After all, the Star Disk has already assigned you a… guardian demon. I’m just filling in for now.” He Zhouyan’s tone carried a hint of dissatisfaction.
Especially when he mentioned the Star Disk’s choice—something about it left a sour taste in his heart.
He convinced himself that this feeling was simply frustration toward that irresponsible guardian demon.
Suddenly, Lu Congxing took out his phone. Politely, he asked if he could play a game for a bit.
He Zhouyan didn’t rush him for an answer. Instead, he nodded.
The topic change seemed completely unrelated, but he knew—Lu Congxing was wavering.
The cheerful sound effects of the puzzle game filled the car. Finally, after an unknown number of victory chimes, a soft voice murmured, “Okay.”
Lu Congxing didn’t look at him, his eyes fixed on his game. But his pale, soft-looking earlobes were faintly flushed.
He Zhouyan’s voice dropped into a low register. “Good boy.”
The restless, itching feeling inside him—like a cat’s paw scratching at his heart—finally settled. But the warmth it left behind remained.
If he weren’t still driving, he might have reached out to ruffle the cub’s black hair—because the cub looked so well-behaved.
Taw’s Note: I gotta split this chapter into two because too many words make my tablet lag somehow. ⊙﹏⊙
Up in one minute (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)