The case was dropped.
Chen Qing signed a mediation agreement.
Chenxi's eyes were swollen red, her makeup smeared like ditchwater.
Yu Jinxiu's eyes were bloodshot too, her cheeks flushed and puffy.
Not a flicker of pity stirred in Chen Qing's heart.
Set against his life and Chen Man's, what was this?
It didn't even cover the interest!
But that didn't stop today's little show from feeling damned good.
He went back to the hotel humming a tune.
Tomorrow was July 24—the talent test. He needed an early night.
The 24th...
Chen Qing couldn't shake the feeling he'd overlooked something.
He couldn't place it, so he let it go.
After dinner, he took Chen Man out to stroll the streets.
Bustling crowds, warm lantern glow.
Shops ablaze with light, neon everywhere, the ceaseless cries of street vendors.
Such an ordinary scene. Yet in a month, scenes like this would vanish from the face of this land entirely.
An orange rotting in a trash can, the kind no one would touch now—people would soon fight to the death over it.
The crisp banknotes, the elegant clothes in the display windows—would anyone even want them then?
He looked at the chubby little boy beside him. He truly hadn't had one single day of comfort.
Slow, and so well-behaved.
He tried so hard, always so hard—his mind was just slow, and there was so much he couldn't do well.
When life got too hard, Chen Qing would sometimes curse Chen Shan and Chen Kuan for abandoning them.
But Chen Man had never blamed anyone.
He didn't blame Chen Shan when he was picking up bottles.
When there was no one to cook, he'd go and cook, good as gold.
When the house ran out of food, he'd find things to scavenge and sell.
Then buy steamed buns. If there was enough money, one for him, one for Chen Qing.
If there wasn't enough, half for him, half for Chen Qing.
Even in the last life, when Chen Qing pressed him down onto the knife to die alongside him, he hadn't uttered one word of complaint.
He'd only held Chen Qing tight.
Now that both super-relics were in hand, a weight had lifted from Chen Qing's chest, and he meant to give the boy a good time in these last days of the golden age.
He crouched and pulled Chen Man into a hug.
"Xiao Man, what do you want? What do you want to eat? What do you want to play with? Tell me everything."
"Jianbing. With an extra egg."
"We can eat something much better. You like KFC? Ice cream?"
"Too expensive."
"Did you forget again that I've got super, super lots of money now?"
"Okay, then!"
Chen Qing didn't mention steak or the like.
He knew Chen Man wouldn't care for it.
That night, Chen Qing was at ease.
At the priciest mall, he picked out several outfits for Chen Man.
Soft fabric, no chemical smell.
He bought Chen Man the most expensive kids' smartwatch.
It could make calls, it could play games.
He bought Chen Man a little bicycle.
Even if it still needed training wheels to stay upright.
He bought Chen Man the softest, whitest socks.
He bought the brightest shoes, the biggest balloon.
Looking at the clean, bright-faced little boy, a smile touched Chen Qing's face too.
He should have been living like this a long, long time ago...
How was a child this age supposed to live?
Chen Man had never had a reference answer, so he'd never once corrected the trajectory of his life.
And so his tiny world had always been empty bottles, always cooking rice, with the occasional cartoon or nature documentary.
Hit, and he wouldn't make a sound; cursed, and he wouldn't hit back. He only worked hard at his homework.
Loaded down with bags large and small, all of them stuffed with things for Chen Man, Chen Qing felt utterly content in that moment.
Passing a lottery shop, Chen Qing suddenly froze!
He'd remembered what he'd overlooked!
The lottery!
The lottery draw on the 24th!
24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 33!
Except for the last one, the first six numbers ran in sequence!
At the time he'd even scoffed that numbers this neat had to be rigged.
Which was why he remembered them so clearly.
He bought five tickets. He didn't get greedy.
"Tsk tsk—25 million, just like that?"
What a bizarre world this was.
He sighed, and took Chen Man back to the hotel.
Chen Man's little belly was stuffed round.
For the first time in his life he'd eaten this well, eaten this much.
"So full..."
"Chen Qing, I'm sleepy..."
"Good night, Chen Qing."
"Good night, Xiao Man."
Taking out the Demon-Suppressing Pagoda, Chen Qing began to experiment.
That the pagoda had a storage function was beyond doubt.
What he wanted to confirm was the rate at which time flowed inside it.
He took a mechanical timer, set its hand to zero, grabbed a cup of boiling water, and stored them both in the pagoda.
He waited ten minutes, then took the things back out.
No change at all!
No, wait...
There was!
The hand seemed to have moved just a hair?
He thought a moment, reset the timer to zero, and put it back in the space.
He'd check again tomorrow.
If time inside the pagoda stood still, that was ideal.
He could book a few grand hotels, order a hundred-odd tables' worth, and he and Chen Man could eat piping-hot chef-crafted meals for decades.
If time wasn't frozen, then he'd have to think about canned goods, seeds, and the like.
It would all come clear tomorrow.
The next day.
The moment Chen Qing woke, he opened the necklace and took the timer out of the pagoda.
The hand pointed to roughly the four-second mark.
Subtract the time it took to put in and take out, and the real elapsed time was probably under two seconds.
He'd slept over eight hours. Reckoning by two seconds, that was nearly a 15,000-to-1 time differential!
Which meant a hot dish put inside would stay warm for about 300 days.
Going by "won't spoil," even 30 years and it would still be fresh. By the internal flow rate, 40 years was barely a single day passing inside.
Very comfortable!
He'd have to lay in plenty of the jianbing and Western fast food Chen Man loved.
With the pagoda's function confirmed, the next step was stocking up.
He still had 7.7 million on hand; he had to convert as much of it into goods as possible.
Pig feed, for instance...
But first, this morning, he had to get his talent tested.
He had to learn the Ghost-Pact Art, no matter what.
Today was Sunday.
But the school was buzzing.
With spiritual-power talent, you could enter the Ghost-Control Army, the Ghost-Slaying Squad, or the Martial School.
Whichever one, it was a leap straight to the heavens.
Last life, Chen Qing had given up the test. For one, he'd worried that if he left, there'd be no one to care for Chen Man.
For another, out of an inferiority complex—an orphan with no parents hides a broken heart inside even the toughest shell.
In truth, Chen Qing's confidence had been built by the apocalypse.
It was through countless life-or-death fights that he'd found his footing, step by step, and found his confidence too.
"Chen Qing! I thought something had happened to you, man!"
A wiry, sturdy young man walked over.
Hou Tianyi. Monkey. His brother.
"Monkey?" Chen Qing froze.
His closest friend since childhood.
That day, when those people had swarmed in, they'd already been splattered with blood, holding Monkey's blade.
Monkey had most likely died at their hands.
Chen Qing hugged Monkey tight. "My brother!"
"Holy shit, gross!"
"Damn it, let go! My orientation is perfectly normal!"
"Ours is a strictly no-homo bromance!!"
"Let go of me!"
After a while, Monkey said, "Or, you know—wanna actually give it a try?"
Chen Qing gave a shudder, and finally let go.
Just then, the person on the flag-raising platform began to speak.
"Testing your talent for you today is the captain of the Ghost-Control Army's Fifth Squad, Han Yuan!"
A burly man with heavy brows and large eyes stood on the platform.
Chen Qing started!
A captain, no less?!
Last life, Chen Qing had been one of Han Yuan's men.
Chen Qing had survived to the third Blood Moon Ghost Tide, but Han Yuan had died in the second.
Because his ghost had turned on him.
That terrifying Evil Spirit-rank existence!
And that ghost had come from the Demon-Suppressing Pagoda.
Han Yuan was the pagoda's owner in the last life.