“It looks like… there’s something there!” she said in alarm.

“You’re hearing things,” Gong Yin said dismissively.

With another soft “whoosh,” Jing Hengbo felt what seemed like a breeze sweep past her. She reached out to grab it and vaguely touched something furry. Just as she was about to pull it toward her, a cluster of branches suddenly sprang up in front of her face. Palm-sized leaves slapped against her face, striking her eyes painfully.

Jing Hengbo angrily pulled the leaves away from her eyes. “There’s something here!”

The sky was gradually darkening. Twilight filtered through the leaves, falling on the ground and faces as nothing more than dim spots of light. Countless black shadows seemed to flash before Jing Hengbo’s eyes, making her shiver.

“We can’t stay in this forest! There’s something here! There are ghosts!” Her voice grew shrill. “Let’s get out!”

Gong Yin’s response was to pat the back of her head, like patting a foolish little dog.

Strange giggling laughter seemed to echo through the dim forest.

“Let’s leave, okay?” Jing Hengbo couldn’t be bothered to argue with Gong Yin’s nasty behavior, grabbing his dangling high heels and acting coquettish. “This forest really has ghosts!”

Gong Yin pointed the heel of the high heel directly at her mouth.

“This heel is really sharp,” he said.

Jing Hengbo regretted giving him her shoes to carry—at least if they were in her hands, they’d be weapons!

Without weapons, she still had her abilities. She sniffled and focused on a piece of broken stone not far ahead.

The size was right. Given her currently mostly recovered state, she should be able to…

“Fine, let’s go. If something happens, you have to protect me. Otherwise, if I die, you’ll be tied in a net with a corpse.” Jing Hengbo’s gaze fell on that stone. “I’m so tired. Can we stop and rest for a bit?”

Gong Yin said nothing. Jing Hengbo decided for herself to stop, leaning against a tree in a position that blocked Gong Yin’s view of the stone. Of course, if he moved his head, he could still see it.

To prevent him from moving his head, Jing Hengbo had to move her mouth to distract him.

“Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, there was a monkey who had three junior brothers—one called Bull Demon King, one called Red Boy, and one called Violet Fairy…”

Her gaze fell on the stone, and it slowly floated up. Good, step one!

“The monkey accidentally obtained a Moonlight Box…” Jing Hengbo stared at the stone. “This box could let people return to the past and see those with whom they shared three lifetimes of karmic bonds…”

The stone moved sideways. Good, step two!

“The monkey used the Moonlight Box to return to the past and discovered he and Bull Demon King were roommates for three lifetimes…”

“What does ‘roommate’ mean?”

“People who sleep together,” Jing Hengbo answered casually. Oh my, the stone had already moved half a meter!

Gong Yin seemed to make an “mm” sound, his voice quite meaningful, though Jing Hengbo wasn’t paying attention at this moment.

“The first lifetime roommate was called Jun Ke, an honest child. The second lifetime roommate was called Taishi Lan, a tomboy. The third lifetime roommate was called Wen Zhen, a culinary expert whose motto was: A good partner is like good ingredients—too much seasoning wastes effort. Focus on natural flavors, eat clean and move on to salvation early.”

“What does ‘good partner’ mean?”

“The one you want to sleep with… Don’t make noise, don’t disturb my train of thought.” Jing Hengbo directed the stone around a bend, flanking them from behind.

“Mm.”

“After the monkey finished seeing Bull Demon King’s three lives, they got separated. Just as the monkey wanted to see Red Boy’s three lives, he met a woman called Zhen Huan. Zhen Huan told him that Red Boy was his past-life nemesis An Lingrong, who liked wearing white and using pearls, was cruel-hearted with boundless magical power, had hidden her identity to lurk by his side just to eat his flesh one day. To defeat Red Boy, he needed to unite with Violet Fairy…”

Jing Hengbo concentrated on talking nonsense while that stone was already approaching them!

Gong Yin listened quite seriously, commenting, “Your story seems a bit chaotic.”

“What do you know? The story’s climax is coming up.” Jing Hengbo’s gaze turned a corner—good, the stone flipped over, point downward.

“Violet Fairy then reincarnated back five hundred years. The monkey used the Moonlight Box to return five hundred years and drew Violet Fairy’s treasured Purple-Green Sword. Violet Fairy agreed to marry the monkey and return together to eliminate Red Boy…”

“You just said Violet Fairy was the monkey’s junior brother,” Gong Yin caught the plot hole and reminded her.

“Did I say the monkey was male? Besides, even if he was male, can’t they be gay?”

Jing Hengbo took the opportunity to turn and glare at him. With a glance, she saw the stone had moved to her right rear.

To prevent Gong Yin from noticing, she immediately turned back.

“You don’t know what being gay means, do you?” To distract him, she volunteered an answer. “It’s when two beautiful men fight like fairies together—like you and Yelu Qi…”

Thinking of Gong Yin and Yelu Qi fighting like fairies, the modern world’s super fujoshi Jing Hengbo grinned lecherously, nearly forgetting about the stone.

The stone had reached her side rear. Jing Hengbo could no longer look at it directly, but mental control would work. She closed her eyes, controlling the stone bit by bit toward Gong Yin.

“…Halfway through, Violet Fairy got lost in the desert and was captured by An Lingrong, who liked wearing white and using pearls, forcing her into marriage. The monkey came riding colorful auspicious clouds to rescue Violet. At the crucial moment…”

The stone whooshed past her head, about to reach above Gong Yin’s head, then knock him unconscious so she could escape this haunted forest. Once away from here, what could he say? Mission accomplished!

“Monkey!” At the crucial moment, Gong Yin suddenly shouted.

“Huh?” Jing Hengbo instinctively turned her head, breaking her mental focus.

She immediately knew something was wrong, but it was too late.

“Smack.”

A dark object, point downward, fell from the sky and struck her forehead cleanly and crisply.

Colorful auspicious clouds flew with the stars…

Thud.

…

Gong Yin looked down at Jing Hengbo, who had been knocked down by the stone he controlled.

“What happened to the monkey? Your story is really terrible.”

After a while, he thought about it and nudged Jing Hengbo with his toe.

“Also, I don’t like the name An Lingrong.”

…

“…Ow, my mother! Which idiot hit me!”

The first moment Jing Hengbo woke up, she felt pain in her forehead and cursed without thinking. After cursing, her thoughts cleared and she remembered what had happened before.

She quickly shut her mouth and opened her eyes.

A voice asked her quietly and indifferently, “What does ‘idiot’ mean?”

“It means smart and perfect,” she reacted quickly.

Gong Yin said nothing more. Jing Hengbo looked around and her eyes widened in shock.

The net seemed to be gone. She somehow found herself in a small room, only about two or three square meters, lying on thick fallen leaves with dark walls on four sides marked with gray-white lines.

What was this place?

She felt she hadn’t been unconscious long. In such a short time, with Gong Yin still injured, how did he bring her out of the forest and find such a room?

And what about that net that supposedly couldn’t be untied quickly?

How did Gong Yin manage it? Did he have a cosmic bag? Great Teleportation? Shrinking Earth technique? Space bag? Magic storage ring?

Gong Yin sat with his back to her, meditating. Jing Hengbo suddenly felt something strange beneath her. She moved slightly and immediately sensed something pulling. Looking down—hey, net ropes?

The net was still there?

Then why weren’t their bodies bound together?

Moreover, as she moved, the room’s shape seemed to change too. The four sides rustled, and a rich, fresh scent of vegetation wafted over.

“Idiot, don’t move around.”

Jing Hengbo: “…”

After three deep breaths, she resisted the urge to use telekinesis to hit someone again. Looking up and around once more, she finally realized the four sides weren’t walls but net—the net stretched into a square shape. Those dark green walls were leaves, leaves twisted around the net ropes, densely blocking wind, light, and even sight.

Overhead seemed to be the thick branches of a thousand-year-old tree serving as a roof. Her high heels were nailed diagonally at the top, stretching two corners of the net, while the other two corners were held by two sturdy sharpened branches.

She blinked, never imagining high heels could be put to such use.

The four bottom corners were weighed down by four sizable stones. This way, the entire net became a leaf-camouflaged net house, positioned probably under some ancient tree.

Below, she could hear the murmur of water—there seemed to be a small stream very close by. What an excellent location.

It had to be said that while Gong Yin seemed high and mighty, when he actually got to work, he was very efficient and wise. Heaven knew how he thought of this net house. It blocked wind, freed them from the net’s constraints, and was very well concealed, hard for forest beasts to discover.

Jing Hengbo tested the net ropes. The net had good elasticity, but it was now stretched to its limit. The holes could at most fit a fist through—escape was impossible.

Even so, compared to the difficult trek half an hour ago, Jing Hengbo suddenly felt like she was in heaven.

The only pity was that the net house was too low to stand upright. She needed to be free and standing to teleport—otherwise she could be free immediately.

Her stomach was growling. Jing Hengbo felt a bit worried. Though the net house was good, it still restricted movement. How could they hunt or gather edible wild fruits? She should have picked some earlier.

“Hey,” she poked Gong Yin’s back with her toe, “is there a way to find some food?”

Gong Yin turned slightly, his eyes glancing downward to see her taut instep—snow-white and lustrous, with bright red painted toenails faintly visible through her stockings, vivid as polished red shells. The dim light and stockings blocked the view yet made it more alluring.

Such attire and movements could probably warrant a charge of “lewd and disrespectful” in Dahuang.

Without speaking, he flicked something round from his hand.

“Ow!” Jing Hengbo’s instep was hit and she hastily pulled back her foot, only then noticing a fruit rolling on the ground. She picked it up, wiped the skin, took a bite, and said “Ow!” again.

So astringent!

Jing Hengbo wrinkled her face. She was reluctant to spit it out but hesitant to throw it away. Seeing no other fruit in Gong Yin’s hands, surely this wasn’t their only food?

“Idiot, eat it or don’t.” He maintained that infuriating disdainful tone.

“You’re the idiot! Your whole family are idiots!” Jing Hengbo couldn’t bear it anymore and bit hard into the fruit as if biting Gong Yin’s face. “I’m called Jing Hengbo! Heng as in ‘looks like ridges from the side, peaks from the front,’ Bo as in ‘rolling waves’!”

As she spoke, she turned sideways and thrust out her chest, using actual measurements to demonstrate the reality of those so-called waves and peaks.

Unfortunately, her seductive glances were wasted on the blind—Gong Yin didn’t even glance over. He was eating fruit.

Sweet fragrance spread, the air seeming full of honey scent and a unique fresh aroma. Jing Hengbo suspiciously looked at the purple, plump, round fruit in his hands, then at the green, thin fruit in hers. She brought her nose close to sniff—damn, no fragrance, just a faint astringent smell.

The fruit he was eating with that aroma was definitely very sweet!

This guy gave her the astringent fruit while eating the sweet one himself?

Also, she hadn’t seen him move—where did the fruit come from?

Jing Hengbo stared at him suspiciously and saw Gong Yin finish his fruit, casually flicking the pit through a gap. A black shadow flashed through the gap, and when Gong Yin withdrew his hand, his palm held several more fruits—purple ones, yellow ones, and green ones.

Leaves rustled outside, as if something flew overhead…

Jing Hengbo’s hair stood on end, and “There’s a ghost!” was about to burst from her lips.

Gong Yin tossed over a yellow fruit, blocking her exclamation.

This fruit wasn’t much better either. Jing Hengbo stared at his sweet-smelling fruit with drooling envy, but unfortunately, subtle hints had no effect on Master Gong. Jing Hengbo could only smell that intoxicating fragrance while silently gnawing her astringent fruit in secret indignation.

However, she didn’t give up.

Among the research institute’s four-person group, Jing Hengbo was acknowledged as having the strangest personality. She was more cunning than Jun Ke, not as rigid as Taishi Lan, and lacked Wen Zhen’s cute sweetness. She was lustful but not promiscuous, lazy and trouble-avoiding but not truly lazy, carefree yet careful in thought, seemingly indulgent yet good at reading situations, not impulsive but never lacking courage when needed… In Taishi Lan’s words: “A colorful kaleidoscope, moldable plasticine.”

Simply put: unpredictable.

Because she was unpredictable, she was flexible. She wouldn’t charge ahead fearlessly like Taishi Lan, nor be cautious and careful like Jun Ke. She would test others’ boundaries, doing whatever she wanted before reaching those boundaries, then immediately retreat when she hit them.

She wanted to feel out Gong Yin’s boundaries.

“Ah! There’s a ghost!” She suddenly jumped up and threw herself into Gong Yin’s arms.