Chapter 6: Mom (Requesting Monthly Votes)

"Mom, what's wrong?" Watching Dou Dou stepped forward and asked sweetly.

"N-nothing… Mom's fine."

Watching Dou Dou seemed to give Jiang Wenxin enough courage; she straightened her posture, pulled her into her arms, and sat down on the sofa with her.

She pulled out her phone, wanting to call her husband and ask him to come home early, but hesitated.

Because that old man was pacing outside their door—what if her husband came home and something bad happened to him?

Thinking of evil spirits in movies, she shivered involuntarily.

She looked down at Watching Dou Dou in her arms and asked: "Dou Dou, tell Mom—after becoming a ghost, can you… do bad things?"

Watching Dou Dou scratched her little head, then said: "Mom, I'm a good baby—I don't do bad things."

It seemed asking her wouldn't yield anything, so she thought a moment and asked: "Do you often see Grandpa Lu?"

Watching Dou Dou nodded, her voice innocent: "Yes, Grandpa Lu can't bear to leave Zi Xu brother—he circles here every day."

Hearing this, Jiang Wenxin pondered briefly: if Old Lu truly had the power to harm people, he would've done so already—no one in this building had been reported missing or harmed.

Realizing this, she finally dialed her husband Tao Guangxia's number—being alone at home with no man made her terrified, as if she'd lost her anchor.

"Honey, where are you now?"

"On the way, I'll be home any minute."

Tao Guangxia's voice came through the phone; Watching Dou Dou immediately leaned forward and called "Dad!"—but Tao Guangxia seemed not to hear her.

"Be careful on the road," Jiang Wenxin warned, then hung up—but she didn't put the phone down. Instead, she opened Enterprise WeChat.

As an outsourced finance officer, her position was low, but her authority was immense—in the company group, from the CEO down to ordinary staff, she could view everyone's information at a glance.

Though she didn't even know Shen Si's full name, she knew he was from Operations.

She opened the Operations group chat and scrolled down—there were only about ten employees, so she quickly found Shen Si's name; she could be certain it was him because everyone used personal photos as their avatars.

Guanghui Animation, as Binhai City's largest game company, maintained highly standardized management.

With his name confirmed, Jiang Wenxin directly accessed Shen Si's contact details and address in the company directory.

After finding Shen Si's contact info, Jiang Wenxin didn't hesitate—she dialed immediately.

At that moment, Shen Si was eating dinner while studying the Ten Thousand Souls Banner.

Dinner was brought up from downstairs: a bowl of beef fried rice and a bottle of iced black tea—a simple meal.

One hand scooped rice, the other rolled the tattered Ten Thousand Souls Banner.

Because he had devoured the Nine Youmingjun, the Ten Thousand Souls Banner required no cultivation from scratch—it responded to his will as effortlessly as an extension of his body, shifting size and form at will.

The purple banner was riddled with holes and tears, the edges charred black; even the staff bore faint cracks, looking utterly ravaged.

Shen Si probed it with his spiritual sense, attempting to open the banner's internal space—but it felt like touching a black abyss, hollow and hungry, as if trying to swallow him whole—he hastily retracted his spiritual sense.

Shen Si possessed spiritual sense only because he had absorbed the remnants of the Nine Youmingjun's soul—a power akin to mental force or telekinesis, though weak, barely enough to roll a pen on his desk.

But its utility was significant: with spiritual sense, he could see 360 degrees within three feet of his body, with no blind spots.

With spiritual sense, he could internally observe his five organs, six viscera, and all meridians—greatly aiding his future physical cultivation along the external path.

Of course, Shen Si had also tried internal cultivation methods; with the Nine Youmingjun's memories, he was familiar with the techniques.

He quickly entered meditation and drew in Qi—but when he inhaled deeply, he swallowed nothing but worldly turbid energy, like swallowing a mouthful of feces—he nearly vomited his organs and abandoned the naive idea entirely.

For external cultivation, Shen Si found a method in the Nine Youmingjun's memories called the Great Arhat Eighteen Forms.

This cultivation technique was acquired when the Nine Youmingjun destroyed a Buddhist-Daoist sect called Xiao Nalantu Temple.

The method resembled modern yoga, consisting of eighteen postures; with sufficient food and diligent practice, one could transcend the physical body.

In modern society, food was the one thing in greatest abundance—especially high-energy foods—making this technique currently the most suitable for Shen Si.

However, this method could only cultivate up to the Bone-Washing realm—but for modern society, it was more than sufficient.

These realms were defined according to the Great Wasteland cultivation system: external path stages were Whole Strength, Muscle Growth, Tendon Refinement, Bone Forging, Bone-Washing, Blood Replacement, Meridian Opening, and Human Immortal.

But given modern resources, the last three stages were virtually unattainable—so for Shen Si, whether or not there were subsequent techniques made no difference.

Shen Si attempted the first posture—and immediately broke into a cold sweat, his whole body trembling, barely able to breathe—his body was far too weak to even complete the first movement.

There were two options: one, persist in training to improve his physical condition—a long, uncertain process with questionable results.

The other was to repair the Ten Thousand Souls Banner, open its inner space, and retrieve the heavenly treasures and rare herbs plundered by the Nine Youmingjun.

As Shen Si pondered this, his phone rang—he picked it up and saw it was his mother calling.

"Xiao Yuan, have you eaten dinner?"

As soon as he answered, Huang Huijuan's loud voice boomed through the line.

It was her habit—when calling, she shouted as if the other end couldn't hear otherwise.

"I'm eating. What do you want?"

Shen Si knew—if his mother had no reason, she'd never call.

"Are you free this weekend? Can you come home?" Huang Huijuan asked.

"What's wrong?" Shen Si asked, surprised.

Shen Si's hometown was close to Binhai City—a one-hour drive—so he often returned; Huang Huijuan couldn't possibly be calling just because she missed him.

"I pickled some salted green beans—come get them to take home." Huang Huijuan said.

"Liar, Mom—tell me the truth."

With her stingy nature, she'd never make him drive all the way just for some pickles—it wouldn't even cover the gas.

"How dare you talk to your mother like that? Do you think I'd lie to you?"

Huang Huijuan's voice rose an octave on the other end, shaking Shen Si's ears—her vitality was astonishing.

"Pfft~ Last time you told me the milk in the fridge was fresh—I drank it and got diarrhea, then found out it had expired."

"I didn't want to waste it! It was only one day past—how was I supposed to know it'd go bad? It's not my fault!" Huang Huijuan said.

"It's not that I'm afraid of waste, but it only expired by one day—how would I have known it had gone bad? You can't blame me for that," Huang Huijuan said.

"Then why won't you let my dad drink it?"

"I was afraid it would upset his stomach."

"You really are... am I your biological son?" Shen Siyuan was speechless.

"I don't know; you'll have to ask your grandmother."

"Whether I'm your son or not, you aren't clear, and you still have to ask my grandmother?"

"Because when I gave birth to you, your grandmother was the midwife. I always suspected I had given birth to a girl, but your grandmother likes boys and said she wanted him to carry on the Shen family line. I suspect she might have switched us..."

"Why would you think you gave birth to a girl?"

"Because sour means a son and spicy means a daughter. When I was pregnant, I loved eating spicy food."

"That's because you usually love spicy food. Don't give me that; just be honest with me..."

Shen Siyuan hadn't finished speaking when the phone on the other end clicked and hung up directly.

Clearly, Huang Huijuan didn't want to explain and was too lazy to find another excuse, so she chose to hang up directly.

Looking at the hung-up phone, Shen Siyuan was also speechless.

His mother, Huang Huijuan, is an elementary school teacher, so her personality has picked up some childishness. She is in her fifties, yet sometimes speaks quite nonsensically; at home, it has always been the father and son coaxing her.

Just then, the phone rang again. Shen Siyuan thought his mother was calling to "repent," but he realized he was overthinking it; it was a stranger's number.