Su Weisheng raised his hand, ready to lift the mute ban on him. But the moment he met Jiang Qiao’s gaze—full of sorrow, resentment, and a hint of hostility—he recalled the man’s incessant chatter and decisively halted his hand midair.
If Jiang Qiao found out that the Star Lord was right in front of him, would Su Weisheng’s ears ever get a moment of peace?
—Better to let him keep misunderstanding.
“What mute ban? Was Uncle muted? Who did it?” Jiang Yimian was utterly confused. “And wait, does this mean Uncle and Great-Grandfather knew each other before?”
Jiang Qiao, after a brief moment of frustration, quickly adjusted his emotions. At the very least, he had regained his composure on the surface. He picked up a piece of paper from the table, wrote a short message, and pushed it toward the person opposite him. The moment their eyes met, Su Weisheng’s image was imprinted clearly in Jiang Qiao’s pupils—his irises dilated slightly before he gave a subtle nod in acknowledgment.
This “Great-Grandfather” was dressed in a modern, light-colored casual shirt, yet his long, jet-black hair cascaded down his back. Strangely, the contrast was not jarring at all; instead, it only accentuated his fair skin, black hair, and an air of cold elegance and noble detachment.
Such an unparalleled beauty—no wonder the Star Lord favored him. Jiang Qiao sighed inwardly. Even though he harbored hostility, he had to admit the other’s breathtaking appearance.
Su Weisheng had no idea that his own devout follower was inwardly drowning in jealousy. He was simply relishing the current peace and quiet. Casually glancing at the piece of paper Jiang Qiao had pushed over, he saw a short and polite greeting written on it:
【I have long heard of the Divine Messenger’s esteemed name. I am Jiang Qiao, an Elder of the Jiang Family’s main lineage.】
In this era, metaphysics arts are not just baseless superstitions. Not only are there families across the country that have inherited these practices, but even the government has special departments dedicated to them—ordinary people simply remain unaware.
The Jiang family, with a legacy spanning over a hundred years, is one of the most renowned metaphysics arts families in the Beijing circle. Despite his young age, Jiang Qiao has already ascended to the position of elder, proving both his cultivation and influence are exceptional.
Su Weisheng took the offered pen and paper, writing down his name as a means of communication.
He wasn’t concerned about revealing any sensitive information. Two hundred years ago, when he was born as the Grand Priest, he used the name Su Tiao. Even historical records never documented his courtesy name, Weisheng. As for Ji Sui Xingjun, aside from the talismans known as “Star Lord’s Blessing,” he left nothing behind—not even an authentic portrait, as all depictions were mere fabrications of later generations.
Meanwhile, Jiang Yimian had only just learned his great-grandfather’s name, finding the revelation incredibly novel.
No one paid attention to the younger generation’s thoughts. Su Weisheng idly rubbed the bead bracelet on his wrist while observing the pale yet sharp-featured man before him. Without preamble, he calmly inquired, “Mr. Jiang, do you know the origins of this Tianhe Stone bracelet?”
Jiang Qiao’s gaze sharpened slightly. He noticed that Su Weisheng had asked about the bracelet’s origins rather than where it had come from—two distinct questions. This meant the other party was already well aware of what the Amazonite bead bracelet was, possibly evaluating his own knowledge from a higher standpoint.
This realization gave him an odd feeling.
Without betraying any emotion, Jiang Qiao wrote a line on the paper: An old possession of a former dynasty’s monarch.
“Yes, the former dynasty.”
A faint smile surfaced in Su Weisheng’s eyes. He could feel the passage of time. The days when they overthrew the previous regime, quelled the chaos, and established a new capital felt like they had just happened yesterday. Yet, in the blink of an eye, they themselves had become relics of the past.
This shift in identity was rather amusing.
“How did his old possession end up in your hands?” he asked.
Jiang Qiao coughed, his breath suddenly flowing freely. He touched his throat—had the 24-hour silence finally ended?
“As far as I know, after the High Priest of the Su clan passed away, the emperor of Rui dispatched countless metaphysics arts practitioners to search for a special technique. Some claimed it was a method for immortality, others called it celestial magic, but no one ever discovered whether he ultimately got what he desired.”
Jiang Qiao continued, “In the year 966, he announced his abdication and vanished without a trace. When his trusted aides entered the sealed chamber, they found only three objects: an Amazonite bead bracelet, a mass of living but indistinct flesh, and skeletal remains.”
Su Weisheng’s eyelids twitched. “A bracelet, flesh, and bones?”
“Yes. The three objects were taken by three different confidants. The one who took the Amazonite bead bracelet remained hidden, concealing his identity for generations. However, one of his descendants grew dissatisfied with an ordinary, unremarkable life. Seeking wealth and protection, they brought forth both the recorded accounts from their ancestral records and the Amazonite bead bracelet, offering them to the Jiang family. That is how it eventually came into my possession.”
As Jiang Qiao spoke, he carefully observed Su Weisheng’s expression. Unfortunately, the man’s emotions were unfathomably deep, leaving him with no way to discern his current thoughts or intentions.
Jiang Qiao asked, “I wonder if this information aligns with the records of the Su clan?”
“Su clan’s records?” Su Weisheng took a sip of tea and smiled lazily. “The Su clan has grown more disappointing with each generation. It’s already a miracle if the ancestral records survived—what special records could there possibly be?”
He paused for a moment, his gaze lowering slightly. The clear tea reflected the suppressed turbulence in his pupils. Then, in a quiet voice, he remarked, “These three relics… they do seem like his style.”
Jiang Qiao voiced the question that had long troubled him. “Is there any special significance to these three objects?”
Su Weisheng chuckled. “A spiritual artifact nourishes the soul, flesh represents rebirth, and bones are the path to death. If the three were separated, naturally, they were meant for different purposes.”
Jiang Qiao was momentarily stunned, then felt a chill run through him. “That’s insane. A person is whole only when all three elements—soul, flesh, and bones—are intact. If they are forcibly separated, wouldn’t that result in something neither human nor ghost?”
“Which is why he could do it, and ordinary people could not.”
Su Weisheng set his teacup on the table and said casually, “I’ll give you a task—find out where the other two relics ended up.” With that, he stood up, preparing to leave.
Jiang Qiao had never been spoken to in such a commanding tone before. Leaning back against the soft couch, one hand resting on the table, his pale yet strikingly defined features carried a pair of sharp, ice-cold black eyes. His arched brows lifted slightly with a hint of mockery, his tone half-amused, half-sarcastic. “Quite the authority you have, Divine Messenger…”
Jiang Yimian immediately sensed the anger in his uncle’s eyes. Worried that his uncle’s proud temperament would flare up and cause an irreparable conflict, he braced himself to step in and smooth things over.
Su Weisheng cast a glance at Jiang Qiao, his tone indifferent. “This is a task assigned to you by the Star Lord. If you do well, you too can become a Divine Messenger.”
Jiang Qiao abruptly stood up.
Jiang Yimian jumped in shock, thinking his uncle was about to start a fight. But in the next moment, the mockery on his uncle’s face melted into a warm, spring-like smile. He coughed twice, his voice suddenly gentle and sincere. “I was rude earlier—please forgive me, Divine Messenger. Since this is a task arranged by the Star Lord, I will naturally accept it without hesitation.” As he spoke, he even pulled out his phone. “Divine Messenger, let’s add each other as friends. I’ll update you on my progress as soon as I have any news.”
Jiang Yimian: “…?” Is this really my uncle? Did someone take over his body?!
The moment Jiang Qiao realized he was being evaluated, with the potential to become a Divine Messenger, his entire attitude did a complete 180. Not only did he eagerly add Su Weisheng as a friend, but he also took the initiative to offer, “Are you leaving, Divine Messenger? Allow me to escort you. We’ll be colleagues from now on, so it’s a great opportunity to chat along the way, strengthen our bond, and make future work for the Star Lord smoother.”
“Speaking of which, I have some questions for you. How do you usually communicate with the Star Lord? Could it be that my usual prayers are incorrect, which is why he rarely responds to me? Do you have any secret techniques…?”
And there he goes again.
Su Weisheng’s head buzzed from all the chatter. He did enjoy watching the drama unfold from the sidelines, but he absolutely did not enjoy being surrounded by endless noise—especially when he couldn’t directly shut Jiang Qiao up. If he reacted too obviously, the man might figure out his true identity as the Star Lord himself. If that happened, there was no telling how this chatterbox would cling to him.
Pressing his fingers against his temple, Su Weisheng sighed and turned to look at Jiang Yimian.
Jiang Yimian was still in shock, completely unable to process the fact that his usually dignified and domineering uncle had turned into this.
Su Weisheng called his name. “Jinbao.”
“Ah… Great-Grandfather?” Jiang Yimian snapped out of it, feeling both surprised and flattered. “Do I have a task too? Don’t worry, Great-Grandfather! Whatever you assign me, I will give it my all!”
Su Weisheng remained expressionless. “Didn’t you mention something earlier about wanting to find a way to have ‘father-dooming’ and ‘uncle-dooming’ moles?”
“Ah???” Jiang Yimian’s face went stiff. He had never expected that, at such a crucial moment, his own Great-Grandfather would throw him under the bus. His back was to Jiang Qiao, and he didn’t even have the courage to turn around. All he could do was let out a dry laugh and struggle to save himself. “Great-Grandfather, you must be mistaken… You must be mistaken! How could I have said something like that…” He placed all his hopes on Su Weisheng having a moment of mercy.
But Su Weisheng had already decided to divert the trouble away from himself, so how could he possibly have that kind of thing—a conscience? Calmly, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through it. “Nope, I’m not mistaken. You said it. And you even mentioned that your father and uncle wouldn’t mind. Is there some misunderstanding between you all?”
“Maybe there is.” Jiang Qiao let out a slow chuckle, his pitch-black eyes locking onto his treacherous nephew like a predator eyeing its prey. He enunciated each word clearly, “Divine Messenger, please take your leave. I won’t be seeing you out. My dear nephew and I have some misunderstandings to resolve.”
“Alright then, I’ll leave you to it. See you around.”
“NOOOO—!!!”
Jiang Yimian let out a tragic wail and tried to flee, only to be ruthlessly pinned down by his uncle. Like a mouse caught by a cat, he could only let out pitiful squeaking noises of despair.
As Su Weisheng’s figure disappeared into the distance, Jiang Yimian, at the very last moment before getting beaten up, only wanted to shout—
“Great-Grandpa, why are you doing this to me? Ahhhhhh!!!”
“Brat, still trying to use ‘uncle-dooming mole’ on me?” Jiang Qiao sneered. “How filial of you. I’m truly touched. Today, I’ll make sure to educate you on behalf of your father as well.”
Jiang Yimian looked up. His vision went dark as his little uncle’s iron-sand palm came crashing down.
In the taxi on the way back.
Su Weisheng sat in the back seat, resting with his eyes closed. He absently rubbed the prayer beads around his wrist, a faint trace of weariness between his brows. Memories surfaced in his mind one after another, bringing with them countless moments from the past.
He remembered many things.
—The previous dynasty had a ruler with a rather memorable name: Yuan Le.
They had met in their youth. Even back then, Yuan Le had already been like an ambitious young wolf cub—decisive, ruthless, charging forward without hesitation. With Su Weisheng’s support, that man led his troops from Lianpozhou, reclaiming lost lands and marching all the way to the capital, undefeated in every battle.
Yet, when it finally came time to establish the new kingdom, Yuan Le hesitated.
It was the dead of winter when the young man, wrapped in a deep crimson cloak, slipped into his room. At the time, Su Weisheng had been lazily lying in bed, reading. He only felt a sudden chill in his blankets—before he could react, a little wolf cub in red had already poked its head out from under his covers, grinning mischievously at him.
“Shengsheng…”
Yuan Le nudged him with his fluffy head. “If I become the king, does that mean I can’t practice metaphysics arts and achieve immortality with you? Wouldn’t you be free and happy once I’m dead?” As he spoke, there was even a hint of resentment in his voice.
Su Weisheng calmly moved his head aside, holding a book in one hand without even looking at him, and replied casually, “Wouldn’t it be better if you became the monarch? You could cultivate the emperor’s metaphysics arts. Maybe one day, you’d ascend straight to a divine position, and I’d have to rely on your influence to throw my weight around.”
Yuan Le narrowed his eyes at him, suspicion written all over his gaze. “Is there really such a thing as the emperor’s metaphysics arts?”
Su Weisheng, unfazed by his scrutiny, merely raised an eyebrow and countered, “Would I lie?”
“Hmph, but you would tell half-truths to fool me.”
Despite his grumbling, Yuan Le ultimately followed their agreement and took the path to kingship.
—And later? What happened then?
Su Weisheng thought about it. Nothing much, really. He failed his third “job-change quest”, suffered severe injuries, and to conceal himself from divine tribulation, he had no choice but to feign death and enter deep slumber—with the reluctant aid of Si Ming, who preached about rules and order yet couldn’t help but secretly assist him. A classic case of saying one thing and doing another.
His “death” was so abrupt that his tomb was only half-built when he lay inside. Even his treasured collection had barely a tenth placed within.
Before falling asleep, Su Weisheng had considered how Yuan Le might react. Given that man’s stubbornness, exhuming him to share a grave or even desecrating his corpse weren’t impossible outcomes.
What he hadn’t expected was…
The emperor’s metaphysics arts were not something that could be mastered in a day, so he chose an even more extreme path instead.
“No wonder the resentment is so strong. Damn, what a massive karmic entanglement.” Su Weisheng rubbed his temples, then glanced down at the bead bracelet on his wrist. Thinking about everything that guy had done, he felt a bit moved—but just a little.
After a brief moment of contemplation, he decided to do something for Yuan Le in return.
So, Su Weisheng bought three more smartphones.
When he got home, he placed the bead bracelet at the center of an open book. Around it, he positioned the phones in four directions—north, south, east, and west. One played the sound of a digital wooden fish, another burned electronic incense, while the remaining two alternated between burning virtual joss paper and chanting the Great Compassion Mantra.
Forced transcendence.jpg
Since the main soul and residual soul were connected, he might as well transcend both at once through the residual soul. With this level of mental pollution, if Yuan Le was anywhere nearby, he would definitely react in some way.
The clamor of wooden fish tapping and Great Compassion Mantra chanting was so noisy that even Su Weisheng’s eardrums began to itch. Rubbing his ears, he was just about to step outside for a walk around the villa when a sharp ding echoed in his mind.
【App module loading progress 100%. Yin and Yang realms are seamlessly connected. The livestream function is now online!】
As the notification rang, Su Weisheng’s vision blurred for a moment. Then, a transparent live stream screen materialized out of thin air, slowly unfolding before his eyes.
“…What the hell?”
No one answered him.
The Underworld, the Netherworld.
Currently, the number of reincarnation slots is insufficient, and souls can only be reborn through a lottery system. The old ghosts who had lived for one or two centuries had nothing better to do, so they spent their days chatting idly to pass the time.
Su Laijin was playing mahjong with his family and neighbors. Tossing out a five-circle tile, he yawned and said, “I really envy those getting their number drawn so early and reincarnating. Who knows how much longer we’ll have to wait here?”
At the mention of this topic, their neighbor, Old Jiang, immediately voiced his grievances. “The Underworld Lord has been missing for years, and the underworld officials are all lazy—”
Before he could finish, a ghost next to him quickly covered his mouth. “Lower your voice! Talking about the Underworld Lord is just asking to get struck by lightning.”
Su Cheng let out a long, weary sigh. “Honestly, I’d rather just dissipate into nothingness. This kind of existence is so dull… I wish I could die again.”
The moment those words left his mouth, as if he had jinxed himself, their vision suddenly blurred. In the next second, a floating livestream app window popped up right in front of them.
“What is this?” Su Cheng looked on in disbelief. “An underworld livestream app?”
The surrounding ghosts were just as bewildered, their expressions serious. “I see it too… What is this? Did the Underworld finally roll out a new feature?”
Su Laijin, the boldest of the group, tapped into the app without hesitation. The screen was completely black, but he could see bullet comments from other ghosts scrolling across. Everyone was guessing what this new feature was for.
Suddenly, the screen moved.
All the ghosts held their breath as a bright study appeared on the screen. The decor was elegant and pleasing to the eye, followed by a string of aquamarine riverstone beads on the desk, glowing with a soft blue light.
“Eh? This bracelet looks kind of familiar,” Su Laijin said.
Old Jiang, standing beside him, scoffed. “What doesn’t look familiar to you? This live stream room must have been set up by some bigshot in the underworld to give lectures. You think you’d recognize someone of that level?”
Meanwhile, the chat was buzzing with comments.
[What is this? How is it even writing?]
[Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Is this a live stream? Mom! I’ve been bored out of my mind in the underworld for over ten years. I finally got a new event!!]
[Ooh—those hands on screen look kinda nice. Move the camera a bit, let me see what the streamer looks like!]
[What’s the host playing with? A phone? There are phones in the underworld? Why didn’t I know about this?!]
[Is this all there is to the stream? Just this? Just this? Just this? This boring scene isn’t gonna keep me entertained.]
[Exactly, exactly! I’ve been stuck in the underworld for 180 years. If they don’t give us something fresh to keep us occupied, I’m gonna start a □□!]
Just then, something new happened.
The pair of slender, beautiful hands tapped a few times on four different phones. In an instant, the loud, resonant sound of a wooden fish drum echoed from all directions, accompanied by the Great Compassion Mantra, exploding right in the ears of all the ghosts!
Holy sh*t—!!!
Within seconds, agonized screams filled the air.
[Who the hell is so wicked as to play the Great Compassion Mantra in a livestream? This is just evil—HELP—!!! I think I’m going deaf!!]
[WTF?! Has the underworld gone mad? Is this their way of dealing with the lack of reincarnation slots? Just forcibly chanting sutras and knocking wooden fish drums to exorcise us?! Whose messed-up idea was this? I swear, I can feel my soul drifting away…]
[Help… how do you close this stream…? I’m dying all over again…]
[I was wrong, I was wrong! I’ll never complain about boring live stream content again! Almighty one, please withdraw your divine power!!!]
They were all ghosts waiting for reincarnation—who the hell could withstand the Great Compassion Mantra?!
Su Laijin hadn’t even figured out why that bracelet looked familiar before he was sent flying by the terrifying bombardment of wooden fish beats and chanting. A sickly sweetness welled up in his throat—he wanted to spit blood, but nothing came out. His brain buzzed as if it had been struck by a gong, and he started wobbling uncontrollably.
“Help…” Old Jiang wailed beside him. “Where the hell is the exit button for this stream?! I swear I’ll never complain about the underworld’s lazy governance again! Lord of the Underworld, have mercy on me… Someone, close the damn livestream—AAAHHHH!!!”
Su Cheng, his breath as weak as a thread, gasped, “I’m not even saying I want to die anymore… D-Dad, save me! Save me! I feel like this Great Compassion Mantra is about to transcend my soul away completely!”
Su Yinian had no time to care about his son. His constitution was weak, and at this moment, his soul was already starting to turn transparent. He could only clutch desperately at Su Laijin’s sleeve, struggling to plead, “Dad… Dad, save us…”
The Su family tradition: when in trouble, call Dad; when not in trouble, scam Dad.
Su Laijin covered one ear with one hand while struggling to type in the livestream chat with the other: [Dad… Dad, have mercy… Please, real Dad, take back your divine power…]
Old Jiang, clutching his splitting headache, still found the strength to scold him, “Have you been transcended into insanity? Why the hell are you calling someone ‘Dad’ in a livestream?!”
Su Laijin choked out, “L-live…stream… I recognized it… The one playing the Great Compassion Mantra is… my… dad… my… real… dad…”
The other ghosts: “…What the fuck?”
All the Su family ghosts whipped their heads toward the livestream. On screen, the ruthless “streamer” sat at a table, his devastatingly beautiful face reflected in the camera—none other than the Su family’s High Priest, Su Tiao, courtesy name Weisheng.
Su Yinian, ignoring his headache, frantically smashed at the keyboard: [Grandpa! Grandpa! Grandfather! Dear Grandfather! Please take back your divine power! Grandpa, have mercy, Grandpa!]
Su Cheng wailed as he typed: [Great-Grandpa! Great-Grandpa, please take back your divine power! Great-Grandpa, have mercy! If you have an issue, hit my son, Su Ran! Don’t torture me!!!]
When the live stream started, a bunch of old malicious ghosts were still teasing the streamer, urging him to show his face. But the moment Su Weisheng’s face appeared on the screen, sheer terror erupted, followed by ghostly wails and howls.
[Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit! I’ve been dead for 180 years. Seeing this face still makes me feel like I’m about to piss myself…]
[Mom, save me! That insane High Priest is back!]
[Playing the Great Compassion Mantra in the underworld? No wonder this wicked, heartless act felt familiar—it’s you… High Priest…]
[The fear of being dominated by the High Priest has returned.]
Su Weisheng: “……”
One familiar name after another popped up in the chat—his sons, grandsons, and countless descendants; elders of the Su clan whom he had tricked; rebels he had personally wiped out; subordinates who had once been under his rule—so many acquaintances, all gathered in one place.
And yet, their reactions were strikingly similar, all circling around one desperate plea: [High Priest, please, for heaven’s sake, stop casting your powers! If you knock that wooden fish and play the Great Compassion Mantra again, we’re all gonna perish!!!]
Damn. He had only meant to perform a simple ritual to help Yuan Le pass on, but who would’ve thought this app would suddenly start broadcasting the whole thing live? The damage spread instantly, mercilessly sweeping across the entire underworld in an indiscriminate AOE attack.
At that thought, he couldn’t help but sigh, “Two hundred years, and you guys still haven’t reincarnated? Perfect. Since you’re dead anyway, I might as well recycle you for something useful—I have a job for you all…”
The ghosts were in utter disbelief: “……?”
[Is that even human speech?]
[Good grief, we were tormented by you when we were alive, and now, even in death, we still can’t escape your grasp?! Su Tiao, what kind of top-tier capitalist are you?!!!]
Moonlit: HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!!!!!!!!!
![I’m Flirting with a Man in the Supernatural World [Unlimited]](https://www.freenovels.net/wp-content/uploads/2021/07/276753189-512-k798005.jpg "I’m Flirting with a Man in the Supernatural World [Unlimited]")
I completely forgot about that app 😂
Welp