But if enough time passes, it'll definitely attract nether souls to come over."

"Can this opening be sealed?"

"That just treats the symptom, not the cause. The opening can be sealed, but the real entrance remains. You block the hole, but it may not keep the nether souls out—instead, when something happens, it's more likely to keep you trapped inside."

Cai Qidong's expression darkened.

"What about just destroying it directly?"

"Hermit Cai, don't keep doing things this way. Even if you destroy this one, others will appear. With the Spiritual Qi Resurgence, a Nether Soul Realm is bound to show up. As long as it doesn't manifest as a Yin Realm in the mortal world, that's honestly the best result already. The Nether Soul Realm itself isn't really a problem, it's only certain nether souls that can be an issue. Better to guide it than to block it completely."

Cai Qidong sighed to himself. Of course, he knew that as time went on, a lot of things just couldn't be blocked off. The more you block, the bigger the problems might become.

"Then, about King Guilong…"

Hearing Cai Qidong bring up King Guilong again, the Purple Robe Taoist from Dragon Tiger Mountain's face darkened.

"Hermit Cai, has anyone ever told you that sometimes you're just really, really annoying?"

The Taoist priest flung his wide sleeves and turned away to leave.

The Taoist might not have known all the details before, but he'd been there on the day of the fight with Hu Yuan. He saw Wen Yan speak a few words, and King Guilong actually behaved, dragging the long river away with no rage at all.

Once he knew the full story, he also thought King Guilong was understandable—not just doing Wen Yan a favor.

But this Cai Qidong, even after asking once, had to bring things up again.

Everyone already said, with King Guilong's strength right after awakening, the best he could do was take two of Hu Yuan's hits. Right then and there he'd already taken two, and was starting to drop in ranking on the spot.

Another word and they'd be swearing up at the sky that King Guilong was absolutely doomed.

So after all that, you still want to ask, Cai Qidong? What's your deal? You don't believe what I said, so why bother asking me?

Pushing things to the absolute limit, aren't you worried someone's going to bash your head in a dark alley one night?

The Taoist had originally felt that, after Wen Yan saved his senior brother, Wen Yan clearly wanted to let King Guilong live, so he went along out of politeness.

Now Cai Qidong is being so irritating, always pushing until there's no way out, trying to force things into a deadlock—what's wrong with you?

First thing you think of with a Nether Soul Realm is to just blow it up, doesn't matter what happens as long as it's gone.

Forget it, time to get out of here—people like this, best not to associate with them.

Does he even know what era it is? It's not like decades ago, when you had to punch your way out of everything.

The more the Taoist thought about it, the angrier he got. He'd already walked a few steps away, then turned, face drawn, and snapped another line:

"If you keep this up, no matter what ghosts and monsters you run into, every last one will fight you Scorching Sun folks to mutual destruction first thing. I've said all I can. Goodbye! Hmph!"

The Dragon Tiger Mountain Taoist just left. He'd already said what needed saying—let them do whatever they want.

This King Guilong, Dragon Tiger Mountain really will protect him now, so what are you gonna do?

Before leaving, the Taoist, still angry, went specifically to the West River's banks to perform a ritual, sticking a talisman on purpose—openly giving King Guilong a blessing.

Cai Qidong knew all about it, but just had to grit his teeth and accept it.

He still couldn't figure out how he managed to piss off this Taoist with the usually good temper so badly, making him storm out and go that far out of his way.

Whatever, guess he just has to accept this outcome now.

After all, Tuoba Martial God still hasn't turned his phone on, can't be bothered with him.

Wen Yan can't be bothered with him either. He only heard today that Medicine King Mountain and Fuyu Mountain were working on something together, and he found out from somewhere else.

Cai Qidong sighed to himself—he was starting to wonder if his old methods of handling things really were out of date now.

...

At the bottom of the West River, in the nearly-collapsed King Guilong Temple, King Guilong had already regressed to a flood dragon, a talisman stuck to his body, nourishing his flesh and finally stopping his decline.

He lay on the riverbed, nearly in tears.

Before he went into hibernation, apart from his mother, no one had ever been this good to him.

He had no idea what price Wen Yan had paid, or what he'd said, to make the Celestial Master Mansion's Taoist openly perform a riverbank ritual and bless him with a healing talisman.

He absolutely understood that Celestial Master Mansion doing this was like sitting right on Cai Heizi's face and saying: King Guilong is definitely not dying, I'm backing him, what of it.

Meanwhile, the Scorching Sun Department's riverbank watchers had all withdrawn.

He'd secretly peeked; the Celestial Master Mansion Taoist's face still looked sour, probably not too willing even as he did it.

He wanted to go thank him, but then remembered what Wen Yan said about staying put, so he didn't dare show himself.

Determined not to let Wen Yan's kindness go to waste, he was being as well-behaved as possible. Downgraded to a flood dragon, he wasn't doing anything at all, just lay there, no coming or going at all.

...

At the dinner table, Wen Yan ladled a small bowl of soup for Little Zombie—the soup Eighth Uncle-Master Ancestor had given him—and stripped off a piece of bird leg meat.

"Just this much each time, you can't have any more."

Little Zombie wasn't greedy, holding the little bowl and slurping away with relish.

Wen Yan took a spoonful for himself, and with that iced herbal-tea-like gulp, he could immediately feel a thick yin-chill-corpse energy spreading through his belly.

The corpse energy was naturally drawn up into the fingernail on his left middle finger, while the remaining power flowed around his body, clashed with his own yang energy, and, bit by bit, merged—eventually dissolved and devoured by the yang energy.

"Not gonna lie, this soup really packs a punch."

The Eighth Uncle-Master Ancestor didn't let him drink more than a mouthful at a time, afraid he'd get contaminated, though it wasn't a high risk.

That insulated lunch box of soup—it was his third meal on it, still not finished. He was practically addicted now.

Sparrow Cat slurped noodles nearby, eyes cast up in longing, clearly knowing it couldn't drink the soup but watching Wen Yan and Little Zombie slobbering over it, practically drooling with envy.

"What does that soup taste like?"

"Chilled herbal tea. Pretty nasty, actually. Zombies just don't have much sense of taste, so it seems precious to them. What are you so envious of?"

Sparrow Cat lowered its head and kept slurping noodles, deliberately sucking them with a loud noise—usually never touched soup, but today even it started noisily slurping broth.

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