Yueying, as expected, went off with Gu Ruoyan.
You could distrust anyone in the world, but not Gu Ruoyan's department.
Chu Ge's door stood open. The "little couple" watched the two women go, and before she left, Yueying even gave Qiu Wuji a little bow, apology in her eyes.
As if to say she was sorry for not keeping her promise to let Qiu Wuji study her shadow power.
Qiu Wuji smiled to show it didn't matter.
The elevator arrived, and as its doors shut Gu Ruoyan and Yueying away, it was as though this whole episode that had tangled everyone up for a while was receding into the distance — and life could go back to being the quiet world of just the two of them.
The thought put Qiu Wuji in a good mood; even her regret over losing the chance to study the shadow power had mostly evaporated.
It was the girl's innate gift, anyway — nothing worth forcing. Didn't she already have a whole pile of immortal arts of her own that she hadn't finished cultivating? Worst case, she'd have a certain Creator God add a setting: some place or other has seen the appearance of another world-shaking secret manual, and powerhouses from every faction fight over it. She'd even come up with a whole major plotline for him.
Wait — hold on... Qiu Wuji suddenly asked Chu Ge, "Could you just write a shadow-technique cultivation method into existence?"
Chu Ge thought about it, and he too went a little blank. "Seems... dead simple. Just write that some random background character cultivates that method and be done with it. I have to design different abilities for different bit players anyway — this actually saves me the trouble..."
The two of them stared at each other, faces blank. Something that simple, and they'd seriously considered taking a person into their home over it. What had been going on in their heads lately?
On closer thought, Chu Ge was cheating among cheaters. Whatever ability he wanted, he could just write it in; at Qiu Wuji's level she could learn anything, and in the end she could even bring it back out and teach it to him.
What talent did other people even have to speak of — special abilities especially, which were supposed to be one of a kind. He just had to write a line.
"If that were your power," Qiu Wuji couldn't help saying, "it would be the most shameless power in the world."
"I couldn't be that shameless all on my own. The main thing is having a heroine to work with me. So the two of us are what you'd call a wicked husband and his wanton—"
Before he could finish, Qiu Wuji kicked him over. "Get lost."
Actually Chu Ge had been ready for it — he'd already vaulted onto the sofa and was watching her with a sly, rolling-eyed look.
Qiu Wuji bit her lower lip and glared.
Ever since he put his arm around my waist yesterday, something's started tasting off — even if he played it perfectly casual and cut my rambling short for me. The mood looks like it's back to normal, but we both know something's different.
Whether I was willing to have my waist held is beside the point. Why was I willing to play along while he called me his girlfriend? Why did it feel so right to put on that show for his blind date?
Qiu Wuji couldn't work it out herself.
She was dying of regret over how she'd acted yesterday. She hadn't focused properly all night while meditating, and now she had to sit here and be teased on top of it.
"No breakfast today! Go out and eat!" Qiu Wuji launched her rebellion.
"Sorry, sorry," Chu Ge said with an apologetic grin. "I'll go out and buy you some soy milk."
Against her will, the books he'd written came floating up in her mind, and even soy milk seemed to carry a double meaning.
I've become impure.
How does someone like this even exist? Honestly.
Though it's actually pretty good. Qiu Wuji watched Chu Ge leave, then pulled out the app again and kept reading.
With no chaotic espers around to disturb things, life really is comfortable. No wonder Chu Ge brought up Lord Ye, who professed to love dragons until one appeared — having a peaceful life turned upside down really does feel awful.
But your own ability is beyond extraordinary, and my existence is just as singular. Can some things really be avoided?
Meanwhile, Chu Ge went out for soy milk and steamed buns, and someone @-mentioned him on WeChat.
He picked up his phone and looked: the college class group chat...
Old Hong: "Reunion this weekend, everyone. It's graduation season again, and it's our five-year anniversary — we've got to do something, right?"
Old Hong had been the class monitor back then. Nobody ever thought a college class monitor amounted to much, but the poor guy had to shoulder every group activity, like it or not. Chu Ge himself had been the "organization committee member," an even more mystical post. To this day he had no idea what that job was for. It sounded like it was for organizing activities, but apparently it corresponded to personnel — like, which classmate were you planning to promote?
So apart from the line on his résumé saying he'd been a class officer, Chu Ge himself didn't know he'd been a class officer.
When Old Hong @-mentioned the whole group, the response was sparse. Ages passed before a few people replied: "Yeah, we should get together."
Someone else answered: "No time this week — I'll still be away on business over the weekend."
"My wife's due date is this weekend."
Whatever the replies, they trickled in thinly. Old Hong didn't mind. He just said: "No problem, come if you want to come. I'll count heads so I can book a table."
Chu Ge had always been one of the lurkers who played dead. This time he thought it over, and finally said: "Count me in. Five years — that's worth marking."
Yang Dingtian: "Ha, I said Chu Ge would show. Seems he's changed his nature a bit."
"Hey, mind your wording? 'Turned a new leaf' is a bit less ambiguous than just 'changed' — one character off and it sounds like a sex change." Chu Ge joked, while inwardly thinking, I could say I'm coming specifically for you. He figured that, the way things stood, more contact with Yang Dingtian couldn't hurt.
No denying it, there's an agenda to this socializing now. I'm turning into the kind of person I used to hate.
The group chat was cracking up: "A great author speaks, all right — even careful about ambiguous wording."
Chu Ge sent back an emoji of someone standing with hands on their hips.
The truth was, Chu Ge didn't like seeing people call him "great author," because every time he saw it, it felt like a jab in disguise.
Whether the same word is a jab or a compliment comes down to one dividing line: are you actually a great author or not?
He wasn't.
Qiu Wuji had it right — bestselling authors do command respect, don't they? But a web novelist's "bestselling" is a different animal, and plenty of bestselling big shots have never crossed that gulf. Only a scant handful have truly ascended to the heavens; in most people's minds they're still nothing like traditional authors.
Which was why Chu Ge loathed Writers' Association meetings. He'd attended one once: some bigwig on the podium made a snide remark, and the row of web writers got up and walked out en masse, leaving the room in excruciating embarrassment. Then there was the "Online Literature Symposium" with not a single web novelist in attendance — that one was a joke people told for a good while.
People said his reputation had suffered because of the smut he used to write, but Chu Ge didn't accept that. His driving-with-the-lights-off was a drop in the bucket next to plenty of published books that drove wide open in broad daylight. Who was calling out whom?
But at the end of the day, results come first. Your classmates having heard of your masterpiece and nobody having the faintest idea what you write are two entirely different worlds.
What is a person even living a whole life for...
"I'm back." Still half-heartedly shooting the breeze in the group chat, Chu Ge carried the soy milk and steamed buns into the apartment.
The moment he looked up he saw Qiu Wuji on the balcony, stuffing yesterday's clothes into the washing machine. He froze for a moment, and something spread through his chest again — just like the first time she'd cooked.
I think... I have a home now.
Even if it doesn't seem to be real.
"You..." he began, a little hoarse. "You have a cleansing spell — why do you still need a washing machine?"
"Oh." Qiu Wuji studied the washing machine. "To understand everything in this world. How would I experience it if I just used immortal arts for everything?"
"Mm..." Chu Ge said nothing more. He set the soy milk and buns on the table. "Come eat first."
His voice sounded very gentle to her, and Qiu Wuji turned and glanced at him strangely.
Chu Ge bit into a steamed bun and headed into the room, muttering, "I'm going to write. And I'll check whether the featured recommendation has blown up yet."
His tone still struck Qiu Wuji as odd. "It's not that you're still brooding over being looked down on by your blind date?"
Chu Ge smiled. "A blind date is just a microcosm of society. In a few days I'm going to a class reunion — think of it as disciples who left the same sect: the ones who've done well and the ones who haven't feel very differently about it."
"You... you really are one of the vulgar masses."
"I really am one of the vulgar masses... People are social animals — until I become an immortal, anyway."
Qiu Wuji started the washing machine and watched it spin. Then she turned her head and smiled at him. "Your books are... very that, I know. But I think they're really well written."
As if feeling that hadn't come out quite right, she hastily added, "It can manifest this Sect Master, after all — of course it's well written."
Chu Ge paid no attention to the addition. Staring blankly at her smiling face, he felt as if something inside his chest was melting.