Chapter 38: Old Song, You’re Not Being Honest  

Facing Xia Shiyao’s excessive zeal, even a seasoned old man like Song Wuli felt fear.  

“No thanks, I’ll take a cab,” he declined quickly.  

He’d considered bumming a ride, but that lick triggered his danger senses.  

This woman had a real yandere vibe.  

“I have things to discuss—about the mid-level demon last time and the cadre-level demon,” Xia Shiyao said, turning serious.  

“What mid-level demon? Wrong person,” Song Wuli yanked his hand free and walked off.  

Watching his back, Xia Shiyao was momentarily confused.  

Song Wuli seemed genuinely unconcerned about mid-level or cadre-level demons.  

Had she really mistaken him?  

Xia Shiyao licked her lips, savoring the taste.  

No, she wasn’t wrong. Eyes could deceive, but nose and tongue couldn’t.  

It was the scent of a sweet little sister!  

After Song Wuli left by cab, Huang Yijun walked off, his suspicions heavier.  

He hadn’t heard their talk, or he wouldn’t have left so easily.  

Xia Shiyao got into a black Bentley and drove off.  

No tailing this time.  

Song Wuli reached home near midnight. Halfway, he got out, flew near his place, reverted, and bought three portions of fried dumplings.  

He returned exhausted.  

“Welcome back,” Diamond said, opening the door, eyeing the food expectantly.  

Song Wuli set the dumplings on the table; Diamond dug in.  

He collapsed on the sofa, resting.  

“Diamond, got any fatigue-curing magic?”  

Diamond: “You mean healing magic?”  

Song Wuli: “Can it cure fatigue?”  

Diamond: “Dunno, but everyone healed looks super happy, so probably?”  

Song Wuli: “Teach me.”  

Ten minutes later, he gave up—couldn’t learn it.  

He lay there like a dead fish.  

Watching Diamond happily munch dumplings, he called out: “Diamond, hit me with a hot take to cheer me up. I’m beat and need to unwind.”  

Diamond chewed, swallowed: “What’s a hot take?”  

Song Wuli: “Like saying the contract goddess is a green tea b*tch.”  

Diamond: “What’s a green tea b*tch?”  

Song Wuli fumbled, rephrasing: “Like saying the contract goddess is my grandson.”  

Diamond: “So a hot take is just wild nonsense?”  

Song Wuli: “Think exaggerated nonsense. Come on, Diamond, give me something spicy.”  

Diamond thought hard, then said solemnly: “I’m your dad.”  

Song Wuli cracked up, not just from Diamond’s serious tone but the sheer absurdity.  

After laughing, he asked: “Where’d you learn that?”  

Diamond: “Sunba. You mentioned ‘grandson,’ so I thought of Sunba.”  

Song Wuli: “Stay off that stuff. One more, hit me.”  

Diamond racked its brain, then said gravely: “One Jinluan can take ten Yinlins.”  

That didn’t feel like a hot take—Song Wuli couldn’t laugh.  

Too heavy.  

He wasn’t happy about it; he felt a bit countered.  

Song Wuli’s combat style was a magic shield and a mana cannon.  

Jinluan’s single-target damage was high, easily breaking his shield.  

Simply put, Jinluan was like hitting a training dummy, testing DPS.  

Song Wuli’s slow movement and weak melee made him a pushover.  

Jinluan had a perfect damage environment, like beating a defenseless dummy.  

But the dummy had a five-minute timer—fail the DPS check, and you’re dead.  

Diamond’s “1 Jinluan = 10 Yinlins” didn’t feel like a hot take; it felt true.  

“Diamond, you’ve got no talent for comedy,” Song Wuli judged.  

He sat up, eating dumplings with Diamond.  

Full, he asked: “Diamond, wanna hang out tomorrow?”  

Diamond: “Hang out?”  

Song Wuli: “Just to chill. No work, no ‘sacred duties.’ Half a day of fun.”  

Diamond didn’t object, agreeing.  

Shower, sleep, up in the morning.  

Off to work as usual.  

He was wary of Huang Yijun, who was at the entrance, glued to his phone. Seeing Song Wuli, he stared silently, saying nothing.  

“What? Something up?” Song Wuli took the initiative.  

Huang Yijun: “Old Song, you haven’t cleared up yesterday.”  

Song Wuli: “Water pipe burst, so I left. Told you already.”  

Huang Yijun: “Not the pipe—the heels. I checked: before you drew those heels, Yinlin never showed them publicly. No news, no leaks.”  

He leaned in, arm around Song Wuli’s shoulder, eyes full of suspicion.  

“Old Song, explain that. Hmm?” Practically an interrogation.  

Song Wuli used the same excuse as with Xia Shiyao: Huang didn’t dig deep enough; Yinlin’s shoes were out there early, but the videos got scrubbed.  

Why were they scrubbed? No idea.  

Maybe officials tried to hush Yinlin’s debut, but when it couldn’t be contained, they let it go, and early videos were deleted.  

Reasonable? Barely. Unreasonable? Sounded like BS.  

The excuse was slightly insulting—Huang, a decade-long fan, missed the heels, but Song Wuli, a casual, knew first?  

“Old Song, you’re not honest,” Huang Yijun pointed at his chest. “Not treating me like a brother. That hurts.”  

Song Wuli: “What now? I’m not lying.”  

Huang Yijun: “You’ve been following Yinlin from day one and didn’t tell me. Treating me like an outsider—that stings.”  

Song Wuli exhaled, relieved. He’d dodged Huang’s suspicions.  

Huang Yijun added: “Tonight, you’re coming to the milk tea shop. That girl is stunning, like Yinlin in person. I almost mistook her.”  

Song Wuli relaxed again—Huang hadn’t confirmed “Yao Ruoning” was Yinlin. Suspicion cleared, for now.  

“Tonight? I’m busy, got plans,” Song Wuli declined.  

“With who? What plans? More important than brothers and Yinlin?” Huang Yijun teased.  

“A friend, staying here a month before leaving. Gonna hang out with them,” Song Wuli said, half-truthfully.  

Huang Yijun let it slide, not pushing.  

At lunch, Song Wuli skipped rest, grinding work.  

He left early to make time, transforming into a magical girl to fly home.  

But getting home wasn’t easy.  

A massive magical surge hit from the ground, the strongest Yinlin had ever sensed.  

In a split second, she raised her magic shield.  

The reflex was spot-on—a sharp purple beam struck, less bulky than Yinlin’s cannon but faster, more piercing.  

It slammed into her, the impact overwhelming.  

A calculated ambush! She realized it too late.  

The beam shredded her shield, sending her flying kilometers away in a parabolic arc, crashing hard.