Daoist Shuangjiang stood beside Wu Zhen with mixed emotions, watching over her as instructed by his junior uncle. In reality, there wasn’t much to watch over, as since his junior uncle had taken action, the plague god that Wu Zhen had half-swallowed was firmly controlled on the outskirts by his junior uncle. Not even a tiny tentacle could reach their side, so they were quite safe and could only stand by and observe quietly.
Hu Zhu had also retreated, standing to the side, clutching her slightly aching chest. She gazed at Mei Zhuyu with an odd expression. As Wu Zhen’s deputy, she naturally recognized this ‘Cat Lord’s man,’ who had nearly sent her to the ward guarded by patrol soldiers earlier.
She could never have imagined that the Mei family’s eldest son, who seemed no different from an ordinary person, was such a formidable Daoist. Observing the brilliant spiritual light bursting from his body, Hu Zhu realized she had misjudged him. This man had returned to simplicity, completely concealing his aura, making it impossible to detect.
Hu Zhu couldn’t help but glance at her own Cat Lord. It was one thing for her not to notice, but for the Cat Lord, who spent day and night with him and even shared a bed, to not notice – it truly showed how love could blind one’s eyes. Such a clever Cat Lord had become a foolish cat.
As for Wu Zhen, seeing her husband’s pure and righteous spiritual energy, she relaxed from her previously tense state. No longer thinking of going to help, she sat cross-legged on the rooftop, taking out a handkerchief to wipe the blood from the corner of her mouth.
She had used too much crimson thunder earlier, causing her internal organs to be impacted, which led to the blood-spitting. However, this problem wasn’t as serious as the half of the residual plague energy she had swallowed.
While wiping her mouth, she watched Mei Zhuyu flying on his sword. She was still a bit dazed. How had her husband suddenly transformed from an ordinary person into a Daoist? And such a powerful one at that. Looking at his skillful use of spiritual talismans, their power far exceeded that of other Daoists she had seen.
She had seen Shuangjiang use such talismans before, but it took him quite some time to draw one, and he could only use three before exhausting his spiritual power. In contrast, her husband had already used sixteen, with half the sky covered in overlapping talismans, and he showed no signs of spiritual power depletion.
While drawing talismans, he could also wield his sword. Wu Zhen had only seen people in the Dao school summon white lightning with their swords, but her husband summoned purple lightning. Wu Zhen had only heard of this but never seen it with her own eyes. This purple lightning was more powerful than ordinary white lightning and was the most potent method for subduing evil spirits and demons.
Seeing the plague god, which she had struggled to eliminate half of earlier, now bound by her husband’s talismans and struck by purple lightning, disappearing by more than half in no time, Wu Zhen couldn’t help but marvel. She thought to herself that if she had known her husband was so powerful, she wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of swallowing the plague god’s miasma earlier. That thing tasted strange and unpleasant, and she would have to suffer a bit to expel it later.
While the three observers on this side were lost in their thoughts, Mei Zhuyu’s approach was much simpler. When encountering evil spirits, he never wasted time with words; his actions were to eliminate them, always choosing the most concise and quick methods. Moreover, because of Wu Zhen’s blood earlier, he could still feel that scorching heat on his hand, which made him furious and caused him to strike even harder.
After all, the plague god was nothing more than a mixture of filth and evil. Although Wu Zhen, being a non-human entity herself, was exceptionally capable, she was ultimately not as adept at dealing with such things as Mei Zhuyu. The Daoist methods Mei Zhuyu practiced were positive, yang, and fierce, perfectly countering these entities. Thus, the already severely injured plague god continued to shrink under his fury, finally melting like thin ice under sunlight, turning into a puddle of turbid evil water.
Although this evil water was not as harmful as the plague god, if it were to merge with the clouds, the next rain would cause many people and animals to contract diseases.
Mei Zhuyu cut his palm with the peach wood sword, mixing his fresh blood with Wu Zhen’s blood that she had smeared on his hand earlier. He wrote a blood talisman to temporarily suppress the flowing evil water.
After completing these tasks, he swept his sleeve and descended onto the top of the city gate tower, walking towards Wu Zhen.
As he passed by Hu Zhu, she instinctively stepped back, as if afraid of being cut by the spiritual energy and residual purple lightning power that he had not yet fully concealed. Mei Zhuyu noticed this and slowed his pace, while also trying to suppress the overflowing spiritual energy from his body. By the time he reached Wu Zhen’s side, he had reverted to the ordinary Mei Zhuyu with no discernible aura.
If not for the blood-stained peach wood sword still in his hand, Wu Zhen would have thought she had just been dreaming.
With her husband suddenly changing identities, Wu Zhen wasn’t sure how to face him when he approached. However, her husband seemed to have adapted quite well, his attitude no different from before. He knelt beside her, asking with some concern, “Are you alright? Where are you hurt?”
Daoist Shuangjiang, who had just managed to stabilize his emotions, witnessed this scene and seemed unable to look directly at it as if he couldn’t accept it. He turned his face away, forcefully controlling his expression.
Wu Zhen, her hand held by her husband, met his eyes full of worry and concern and suddenly laughed.
She coughed once and asked, “Are you Daoist Shuangjiang’s junior uncle? A disciple of Changxi Temple?”
Mei Zhuyu glanced at Shuangjiang nearby and nodded, “Yes, but I am no longer a disciple of Changxi Temple.”
He spoke calmly, as if unconcerned, but Wu Zhen could see that his mood was not as calm as it appeared on the surface. So she didn’t ask further and instead spoke about herself, “Do you know my identity?”
This time, Mei Zhuyu was silent for a moment before saying, “I just learned of it.”
Wu Zhen: “I am the Cat Lord of the demon market. What do you think about this identity?” Although she was in charge of the demons in Chang’an and different from ordinary demons, some people in the Dao school still disdained to associate with them.
Mei Zhuyu lowered his eyes and leaned down to embrace her: “I have no thoughts on it. Let’s go back first and take a look at your injuries. We can’t delay any longer.”
He picked Wu Zhen up in one motion, and as he jumped down from the city gate tower, Wu Zhen heard him say: “Your identity, in my heart, has always been only one. The rest… doesn’t matter.”
Wu Zhen could feel the broad and steady hands holding her, and his voice was soft and gentle, as if afraid of startling her. It was a stark contrast to the solemn appearance of the man who had just killed the plague god with talismans and a sword. Wu Zhen didn’t know why, but her heart stirred, and she suddenly remembered the characters her husband had written earlier. Only now did she understand the killing intent within them.
“Husband.”
“Hmm?”
“You were impressive just now.” Wu Zhen smiled and reached out to scratch her husband’s chin.
Mei Zhuyu quickly glanced down at her, then increased his speed, appearing less composed than before. “Not at all, I was just finishing up for you.”
“Why so modest? When I say you’re amazing, you are. If it weren’t for you, I would have been half dead from the plague god today. As expected of my husband, you always manage to surprise me.”
Daoist Shuangjiang, who had been silently following like an invisible person: …Why is my hearing so good!
Suddenly realizing that his junior uncle was blushing, Daoist Shuangjiang: …Why is my eyesight so good too!
He quietly slowed his pace, distancing himself from his junior uncle and the Cat Lord in front. He had already sorted out this complex situation: his stern and hard junior uncle had taken a wife, the wife was the Cat Lord, and they had been unaware of each other’s identities before. Now they knew, and both seemed to have accepted it well, even starting to flirt.
Moreover, his junior uncle was at a disadvantage, in all aspects. For the first time in his life, Daoist Shuangjiang experienced the feeling his junior uncle used to have towards them – anger at their incompetence.
Junior Uncle! Weren’t you supposed to be very tough? When have you ever shown weakness to anyone? Why are you so soft in front of a woman? Are you my junior uncle or an impostor?
“Shuangjiang, keep up.”
Suddenly hearing his junior uncle’s voice from the front, the inwardly grumbling Daoist Shuangjiang instantly transformed into an obedient junior nephew, honestly responding, “Yes, Junior Uncle.”
—
On their way back to Chang’an City with Ling Xiao, Liu Taizhen thought she would see a miserable friend waiting for her to rescue. Unexpectedly, when they arrived at the city gate, everyone had dispersed, leaving only Hu Zhu guarding a puddle of evil water suppressed by talismans, using a small mirror to apply rouge to her face.
She sat with her legs crossed, her embroidered shoes stained with blood, touching her face and muttering, “My face has turned so pale from the injury, it doesn’t look good anymore. Even rouge can’t bring out that natural rosy complexion.”
Ling Xiao: What’s going on?
Liu Taizhen was also confused about the situation and stepped forward to inquire.
Hu Zhu: “The Cat Lord’s husband arrived in the nick of time to play the hero, and they joined forces to defeat the plague god. The couple has returned home together, and they might be pouring their hearts out to each other right now.”
Liu Taizhen raised an eyebrow: “The Mei family’s son? He’s not an ordinary person?”
Hu Zhu sighed: “He’s a Daoist, a very powerful one from Changxi Temple.”
Liu Taizhen: “I remember Changxi Temple Daoists can’t marry.”
Hu Zhu shrugged, “Who knows? But that’s not important now. What’s most important is for you, Snake Lord, to quickly clean up this puddle of stuff, and then go check on the Cat Lord. She swallowed half of the plague energy.”
Upon hearing this, Liu Taizhen immediately showed an exasperated expression, “I’ve told her many times not to swallow things recklessly.”
Hu Zhu chuckled, “Is the Cat Lord the type to listen to what others say?”
Liu Taizhen sneered: “Then let her learn a lesson. It’ll prevent her from ignoring others’ advice in the future.” With that, she began to deal with the puddle of evil water on the ground. Her original form was a snake, associated with water, making her most suitable for handling this.
Hu Zhu didn’t expect her to not care, and asked in disbelief, “Snake Lord, are you not going to help this time?”
Liu Taizhen didn’t look up, only pausing her hand for a moment, her voice cool and clear, “She has someone to take care of her now.”
She no longer needed to worry about her or tidy up after her in everything.
Hu Zhu suddenly patted her shoulder, then turned and left without saying anything more.
Meanwhile, in the Mei family residence, Mei Zhuyu stared at the familiar mackerel tabby cat on the bed, his expression dazed, even more so than when he had discovered Wu Zhen was the Cat Lord.
“Why are you looking at me so stupidly? I swallowed too much plague energy, so turning into this form will make me feel a bit better.” The mackerel tabby cat lay listlessly on Mei Zhuyu’s usual pillow, speaking in human language.
Mei Zhuyu: “…So many times before, the cats I encountered were you?”
“Ah, isn’t it obvious?” Wu Zhen said matter-of-factly.
Mei Zhuyu: “…”