Guardian: Zhen Hun (Novel) Vol. 3

I hold all the world’s famous mountains and rivers in my hand, but what of it? They’re nothing but a bunch of rocks and wild waters. Of all that I am, the only part worth anything may be my heart. If you want it, it’s yours.

Look, I’m a chain-smoking drunk. I’m annoying. I talk too much. I have a shitty temper. At best, I can pretend to be tender and considerate for about three days before I blow my cover. I’m great at wasting money, and I’m no help at all on the everyday-life front, but I’m great at causing trouble. My own mother stopped being able to cope with me and kicked me out ages ago.

There’s an ancient saying that humans and ghosts belong on separate paths, but in all my years, I’ve never seen two people so truly desperate to be together despite being separated by yin and yang.

But in the fake worlds, Shen Wei was always right there at his side, playing different roles in his life.

Whenever Shen San went out to hunt or had to travel long distances to buy things, he always thought of the person waiting for him at home, which made his heart glow with warmth, like there was a little furnace inside. That warmth took the edge off the chill of the cruel world.

Sometimes, relationships had the fragility of glass. Whatever kind it was, once it shattered, it could never be put back together—not even if one forgot…or even forgave.

Life at 9 University Road settled back into a routine: eating, sleeping, and beating up Lin Jing.

Daqing screamed into his ear. “I’ve been looking for you all over the world! You heartless dick! I almost turned the entire Netherworld upside down trying to find you! What just happened? Was there a gas explosion at the Yanluo Courts?! Me-fucking-ow, I was scared to death!

Zhao Yunlan reached out and gently stroked Shen Wei’s hair. “Such a heavy heart, full of such heavy calculations…” He sighed. “You sure are hard to take care of. Come on, we’re going home.

Nothing that comes from your lips, whatever it might be, could ever make me hate you.

Thousands of years of wind, frost, rain, and snow passed in the blink of an eye. Everything was the same, but the people were gone.

Even if we can’t be together, you have to at least be somewhere I can see you every day, so I can rest easy…

But the greatest kindness is to do no evil, and that alone is enough to save the world.

Afternoon sunlight slanted into the office. A humidifier pumped out soft white mist. The couch for visitors was occupied by a coat that had been flung there haphazardly and was now wrinkled—not that its owner cared.

In the end, he himself pushed away the one he had struggled so hard to hold; it was he who broke their oath to die together, after all his meticulous scheming to extract that promise.

I originally wanted to come and go quietly, but because of a simple coincidence—because of you—it was all for naught. From that night when you truly belonged to me… No, from that day when you told me, for the second time, that you wanted to give your heart to me, I… I could never let you go again.

Your soul bears my mark. Given enough time, I can always find you.

You’ve never asked me for anything; I don’t even know how to suck up to you. But the truth is, if there’s anything you really want, you could just tell me, and as long as I have it… So why lie to me?

Slowly, a sort of mutually reliant affection took shape there at the maw of hell.

Wishes tend to come true for people like you.

True story: I’m too lazy to even wash my socks. I buy seven or eight pairs and wear them all once, and then I shake them out, sort them by how bad they smell, and wear them again. Then I finally stuff them into the laundry bag and send them off to be washed. Rinse and repeat, ad nauseam. Every so often a sock goes missing, so its partner ends up among the mismatched. I didn’t start wearing them in pairs until after Shen Wei moved in.

He’s mine. If the two of us have a problem, it’s between us, no matter who’s in the wrong. An outsider criticizing him in front of me is no different from slapping me in the face.

You can’t judge the dead the same way you judge the living.

You're a good person - she said in her ethereal voice. The Gods are benevolent. May they forgive you and protect you.” ”You were a good person when you were alive too. Did the Gods forgive and protect you?

Zhao Yunlan came to the annoying realization that his Special Investigations Department was basically a summer camp for nepotism babies.

Yeah,” Zhao Yunlan said. “His name is Daqing. Pet name: Fatty. Nickname: Big Dumb Fatty.

As soon as he even thought about having to call someone, he felt so stressed that he couldn’t sleep for nights on end.

Some people believe reincarnation is an endless cycle of killing, the old replaced by the new. What’s lost will be lost forever, and what has passed will never return. With a turn of the clock, one can look back, but not go back. With a turn of the reincarnation cycle, though, even if one tried to look back, they wouldn’t know which way to look.

His own expressions and mannerisms were akin to a sad, worried little wife who had accidentally set the kitchen on fire.

My master has tremendous sympathy for your deep feelings, my lord, and went to the effort of having him brought before you. He wished to see if you are truly without desire, without—

My lord, you need to look beyond the surface." Zhao Yunlan looked up. "What constitutes fairness or equality? The reality is that what's fair for one person is always built upon someone else being treated unfairly. When someone is struggling to survive, 'equal' means being well fed and warmly dressed, like everyone else. Once they have a full belly and warm clothes, 'equal' means having dignity as everyone else. And once they have dignity, a sense of superiority kicks in and they won't be satisfied until they have more than other people. Nothing breaks the cycle but a coffin. Equality is in the eye of the beholder, isn't it?

Some lies are told deliberately, Tongxue, while some are not. The former serve to deceive others, while the latter deceived oneself.

More than ever, he felt that working just sucked.

Instantly, the Hunger Ghost’s large, bald head contorted into Munch’s painting The Scream.

He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry,

The two of them simultaneously looked toward the flattened Hunger Ghost in shock, only to find that it no longer resembled a dumpling wrapper slapped onto the wall. It had reinflated itself!

How?” He began to list off what they had to work with. “A mortal; useless trash; someone sedated to the gills; and me, a mascot. Even if the four of us offered ourselves up in a steamer basket, do you think we’d be more than an appetizer for the Hunger Ghost?

Out of nowhere, Is he an instructor or the school hottie? flashed across Zhao Yunlan’s mind.