Chapter 90: Jing Ke

Speaking of which.

Jing Ke suddenly slapped his forehead.

“By the way, remember to return the notebook to me—we don’t have many left in stock, and getting it back lets us hand it out to new recruits.”

Wu Xian blinked in surprise.

“You want it back?”

He wasn’t reluctant to give up the notebook—he’d memorized every detail inside—but Qi Zhiyong had invited him to join the Creed, yet this Jing Ke showed not the slightest interest in recruiting him?

Wu Xian’s eyes widened gradually.

Wu Xian couldn’t help but shiver.

Were those armed, black-clad bandits really of this caliber?

An angry curse came through the phone.

His expression turned unusually serious.

“Never mind.”

“Qi Zhiyong invited you because he believes in the theory of value—but that’s his view, not the Creed’s.”

Jing Ke had an astonishing appetite; by the time he finished speaking, only empty plates remained, and he let out a satisfied burp.

Most employees of the Chenghuang Office have signed contracts; their job is to maintain order in the real world, and a few juanren also work there.

Aside from the old guy who’d already blown his coins, he didn’t want to sacrifice his life for anything, so he shook his head.

He shook his head vigorously, his mind growing more alert.

Wu Xian had no interest in the Creed’s organizational philosophy.

…

Jing Ke sighed and shook his head.

Hearing Jing Ke praise the food, Bai Gu’s resentful glare vanished, and her tail wagged again—this dog’s thoughts were easy to read.

He thought of Jing Ke’s nightmare, and a chill ran down his spine: his enjoyment of the Blessed Land depended on the real world being a safe harbor—if the real world became like the Blessed Land…

“Save it!”

“Sigh, you young people—you want to know something? Just go ask them directly. Why make it so complicated?”

Jing Ke spread his hands.

Jing Ke shook his head.

“Channel all that energy into fighting the evil spirits!”

“You’re not working as a detective anymore, so you’ve got no income, right?”

“You’ve caused the Chenghuang Office a lot of trouble—they’re worried about Blessed Land contamination, so they dared not use most methods on that compressed file, and had to delegate the investigation to me.”

“Everyone’s exhausted. Don’t do something like this again next time.”

But Wu Xian hadn’t expected the Creed to look down on him so much—it left him distinctly displeased.

Wu Xian thought carefully.

“All our efforts are simply to keep this real world as ‘real’ as possible…”

“The Creed may not be what you imagine. Our original purpose was to give the lost a direction, and the faithful a harbor.”

“If you’re with the Creed, why are you helping those people investigate me?”

“Do you know what my greatest nightmare is? That one day, returning from the Blessed Land, I find the real world—once warm and safe—has become as cruel as the Blessed Land, with no place left to rest. That’s my greatest nightmare.”

“You damn old-fashioned stick-in-the-mud, how much longer are you going to cling to your weird rules…”

He turned to look at the leftover food on the table. If Jing Ke ate it and didn’t die, then he could probably eat it safely too…

Jing Ke moved the phone slightly away, unwilling to hear the insults from the other end; after estimating the time had passed, he placed it back to his ear.

Wu Xian’s detective agency had closed, and he’d been eating, drinking, and spending wildly—his bank balance was plummeting… If he could get some money from the Creed, he could extend his godlike life in the real world a little longer.

“If we take in just anyone, we wouldn’t be the ‘Creed’ anymore.”

“I knew you’d react this way—you probably think the Chenghuang Office is full of bloodshed, exploitation, and deceit, that everyone is scheming against each other, hiding earth-shattering conspiracies, and that signing up traps you in an inescapable pit…”

“What else? Leave it for you? Don’t joke. You don’t meet the Creed’s requirements.”

“Do you have the resolve to sacrifice your life to uphold your belief—or, more importantly… do you even have such a belief?”

“Your household meals are amazing—almost rivaling the chef at Qipi Restaurant. You’d better live a long time, don’t die too soon—I’ll come back to mooch meals from you again!”

“Qi Zhiyong qualifies—why don’t I?”

“Enough said. Hand me the notebook.”

It gave Wu Xian a slight jolt.

“I’ve met the person Qi Zhiyong chose—a talented young man, but stubborn. He might survive long in the Blessed Land, but I didn’t invite him because he hasn’t found something he truly believes in…”

I suggest you register at the Chenghuang Office—it’s near the First Welfare Academy, easy to find, but you have to get close to see it. Normal juanren only receive this information after passing through the second Blessed Land; today, I’m giving you a heads-up.

“After registration, you don’t have to do anything—so long as you’re alive, you get a monthly minimum living allowance, and the more Blessed Lands you’ve experienced, the higher the allowance. During holidays, you even get rice, flour, oil, eggs, laundry detergent…”

“The people you mentioned—they’re the Chenghuang Office, right? They’re good lads. The stability of the real world depends on them.”

Wu Xian narrowed his eyes.

Jing Ke dialed a phone number.

Jing Ke replied with a sigh.

From Qi Zhiyong’s behavior, this organization might be rigid, but at least it wasn’t made up of bad people.

Jing Ke’s words.

After leaving Wu Xian’s house a distance away.

But he wouldn’t blindly believe Jing Ke’s words—he’d verify the truth about the Chenghuang Office in his own way.

“Not lost. I find it quite interesting.”

“Then let me ask you—are you lost when it comes to the Blessed Land?”

If the Creed strongly invited him, Wu Xian might reluctantly join.

Hearing there were no benefits, Wu Xian immediately lost interest and fired off his next question.

“Without the Chenghuang Office, the real world would have already fallen.”

“The Blessed Land is crushing us, the evil spirits are drinking our blood and eating our flesh—we’re nearly wiped out. How can we spare energy to scheme against our own kind?”

Wu Xian watched Jing Ke ride away on his bicycle.

“We have someone working at the Chenghuang Office—if you want to get on the payroll, I can help arrange it, but you’ll have to pay me a finder’s fee.”

Jing Ke took the notebook, walked to the door under Bai Gu’s resentful glare, patted his belly, and bid Wu Xian farewell.

Jing Ke sipped the mushroom soup.

“Besides, we’re all poor, and we don’t have many benefits…”

He suddenly realized he’d always overcomplicated things—he’d habitually doubted everything, forgetting that sometimes the truth was surprisingly simple.

“The Chenghuang Office?”

“Also, Qi Zhiyong upheld his belief.”

“Send out notices to others—he’s ready for a funeral.”

(End of Chapter)