Volume One, Chapter Fourteen: The Magician.

Regarding this suggestion, at the very least, Su Yike had brought it up before, but everyone thought it was out of the question at the time, not even worth discussing. However, after what happened today, even though they were reluctant to admit it, the truth was clear: other than seeking help, they had no other options left. What’s more, the deadline from above was getting shorter, and they were still at a loss.

Wu Wei slapped the table and stood up, instantly drawing the attention of the task force. “I’m done caring about saving face. Find me the address of the Young Celestial immediately. Once you have it, report back to me truthfully. I’m going to get ready.”

Su Yike raised her hand. “I’ll go with you!”

...

Qingcheng, Northern District.

On the dim, damp walls, the slogan “To Heal the Sick and Save the Dying” could still be faintly discerned, though the years had worn away the characters, leaving only vague outlines. Though this was clearly an abandoned hospital, it was now buzzing with activity.

In the courtyard, massive trees stretched their branches and leaves, blotting out the sky. The strange, twisted growth of these ancient trees seemed to separate this hospital from the rest of the world.

“Believers, it’s time we did something delightful.”

The moment the words fell, the voice carried a strange magic. The crowd in the courtyard—dressed in all manner of clothing—suddenly began to dance and move wildly.

A man donned a black top hat and bowed elegantly, an irrepressible smile playing at his lips. With a casual wave of his hand, the crowd dispersed in all directions.

His expression shifted into one of utter enjoyment. “This city owes me a debt. It’s time to collect.”

“Chen Shu, don’t make this too big. We’re not yet prepared to go to war with Daxia.” At some point, a shadowy figure had appeared behind Chen Shu.

Chen Shu narrowed his eyes and flicked a playing card with a lazy gesture, sending it slicing toward the man.

With just a tilt of his head, the man caught the card effortlessly.

“Save the childish tricks. They don’t work on me,” he said, his tone even and unhurried, betraying not the slightest annoyance.

Chen Shu kept fidgeting with the cards in his hands, making them shift and change ceaselessly. “I admit, there are quite a few hidden masters in Qingcheng, but you should know, my strength doesn’t lie in frontal confrontation. If they want to catch me, they’re not nearly up to the task.”

The man’s tone suddenly darkened. “Don’t get careless, and don’t jeopardize our plans. Once you’re done here, regroup with us immediately.”

“Got it, nag,” Chen Shu replied offhandedly.

The man faded slowly back into the shadows, as if he’d never been there at all.

After the crowd’s outburst, Chen Shu raised his hand and, like a gentleman, snapped his fingers. Instantly, his body dissolved into a scatter of fluttering playing cards.

...

Back at the company, Old Zhao didn’t say anything to him. Young people sleeping in late was understandable. Jiang Chen scratched his head and bought two packs of cigarettes for Old Zhao. Although he was out of money, Tong Yan noticed his predicament and lent him a hand.

At lunchtime, Jiang Chen was about to make do with a quick bite when he was summoned upstairs by Ning Rou’s female secretary.

It wasn’t unusual for a security guard to enter the company, but to walk into the president’s office was a rare event indeed. Their president wasn’t as icy or unapproachable as the rumors suggested, but she was still upper management. Besides the secretary, few people got to exchange words with her, and most only spoke to her during meetings to report on projects.

Following the secretary, Jiang Chen reached the top floor. As soon as he entered, the secretary announced, “President Ning, I’ve brought him.”

Ning Rou looked up, then gave the secretary a glance. The secretary withdrew, closing the door behind her, leaving the two alone in the enclosed office.

Jiang Chen stepped forward. “You wanted to see me…?”

Ning Rou’s expression was no longer as angry as before. She handed him a piece of paper—a divorce agreement.

“Sign it. I’ll transfer you ten million. That should be enough for you to live comfortably for the rest of your life. Once you sign, the money will be in your account within five minutes. You can go wherever you like; there’s no need to stay here as a security guard.”

Hearing this, Jiang Chen felt little emotion. After all, that night had been a moment of impulse, and there was no emotional foundation between them. Divorce was the best choice. In fact, Jiang Chen felt that if compensation were due, he ought to be the one compensating Ning Rou.

“I’ll sign the agreement, but amend the terms—I don’t want the money,” Jiang Chen replied calmly.

Unexpectedly, Ning Rou exploded. “I’ve already agreed to ten million in compensation—what more do you want? My assets? I have nothing except this company—what else could you possibly want?”

Her sudden, hysterical outburst startled Jiang Chen into silence.

“No, you’ve misunderstood. What I mean is, I don’t want a penny. I’ll leave with nothing. I’m not after anything else,” he explained hastily.

But Ning Rou’s eyes were brimming with tears. In her gaze, Jiang Chen saw not a trace of hope.

“If you don’t want to see me, I can leave. Once you’ve amended the agreement, I’ll find a way to make it up to you,” Jiang Chen said. His wealth was unmatched even in Daxia, and aside from his own abilities, his greatest asset was his unrivaled skill in alchemy. One of his pills could extend a person’s life by a century. If anyone owed compensation, he was more than willing to make the effort. That was simply his way.

Ning Rou, born to a prominent family, had always possessed exceptional self-control. Realizing her loss of composure, she quickly adjusted her mood.

“Go for now. I’ll have someone give you the amended agreement when it’s ready,” she said, then buried her face in her arms on the desk.

Jiang Chen knew his presence would only bring her more sorrow, so he quietly left.

Returning to the security booth downstairs, he found a group waiting for him. Old Zhao was frantically signaling with his eyes—a look that clearly screamed, “Run! They’re here for you!”

Jiang Chen recognized the newcomers at a glance—they were Su Yike and her colleagues.

Wu Wei had already changed his tune. He’d originally looked down on the young Taoist, but after witnessing him save the victim, he had nothing left to say. Now, needing his help, he had no choice but to swallow his pride.

“Comrade Jiang, I’m so glad to finally see you. You’ve no idea, the moment you left, I sent Su Yike to look for you. It took a lot of effort to track down your address, but at last, here we are,” Wu Wei rattled off smoothly, his face unflustered.

Jiang Chen was already tired of hearing it. “I’m not sure what business the police have with me. I’m just a security guard—I doubt I can be of any help.”