Fox ... in striped socks.

Warning(s): single use of a slur, lots of Buddhism, novel ending spoilers / explanation
[TN: the other extras are here, you may want to check out #4 for notes on names.]
Original Chinese character count: 3068
English Translation word count: 3058
Much thanks to @lady-eden for the final once-over.

A comparatively serious demon-raising incident affecting a certain city in the southern part of the country needed the attention of Chu Shuzhi. He takes Guo Changcheng with him. They spend nearly a whole month there before the incident can be considered perfectly resolved, and the two return to 4 Bright Road.

Guo Changcheng is still as unskilled as he ever was. There are times when everyone feels that Guo Changcheng and their office’s newest member, Xiao Mi, cannot be any more alike.

Oh right, forgot to mention: Xiao Mi is a one year and some old Samoyed dog with an outsized appetite and an undersized intelligence.

It started with a lost dog delivered to the neighbourhood police station, living there for over a month. Though the owner never came back to claim him, it did manage to eat everyone poor. After a few more twists and turns, Zhao Yunlan manages to gain possession of the dog and to keep it at 4 Bright Road in an attempt to divert Daqing’s gloominess on seeing Lao Li.

The whole day through Xiao Mi eats when it should eat, drinks when it should drink, doesn’t ever take anything to heart. Before Chu Shizhi left for the assignment, he spent more than a month with much effort teaching this dog the two tricks of ‘sit’ and ‘shake,’ only to discover it had discarded the only two skills it possessed on Java Island by the time he gets back. Other than to stare blankly with two giant innocent eyes and run around humping legs, its brain seems entirely empty and devoid of dog tricks.

[TN: “Java Island” is a way to say “not even on the map anymore” or “gone”]

In the way that so many skills seem unteachable to the both of them, it does look very much like Guo Changcheng and Xiao Mi belonged to the same family eight hundred years ago.

[TN: There’s a saying that people with the same last names are “五百年前是一家” / belonged to the same family 500 years ago. The number varies.]

But none of it takes away from how he’s in possession of a holy artefact.

The catastrophic rupturing of chaos decimated Difu, and Shen Wei near single-handedly sets up the new order. The sheep skin he wears covers him quite well and he rarely makes an appearance, nor does he meddle in the new administration’s affairs, but the new Difu, given a new lease on life by the wolf that is Shen Wei, dares not treat him with less than the respect he’s due. The Zhanhun-shi that all three realms yielded to now yields more power than ever, so naturally his habit of collecting the remnants of lone souls and wild ghosts passes without the merest notice, all to the advantage of Guo Changcheng’s little stun baton.

If one takes some time and considers that Guo Chancheng tends to turn into a trembling bald chicken whenever he runs into danger, how he always manages to turn fear into sheer power feels rather miraculous.

When Chu Shizhi returns to the office, he ignores all of his paperwork in favour of watching the stock market and studying the candlestick chart while wearing a grave expression, leaving Guo Changcheng to patiently post invoices and fill in expense reports. He goes to find Zhao Yunlan so he can sign the paperwork, but unexpectedly finds the opposite office door locked — Zhao Yunlan isn’t here.

Guo Changcheng scratches his head. He asks innocently, “Zhao Chu isn’t here?”

Zhu Hong doesn’t bother looking up from her computer. “Officially, our new office lease is finalized today and he’s gone to do final inspection and put his signature on things. He thought he may as well move today too — dammit, why is everything so slow? I sincerely hope the net is faster where we’re moving.”

Poor Xiao Mi’s being chased by a little cat all over the room, but Daqing brakes to a stop from his bullying when he hears this. The black cat raises his head to speak, “What about unofficially?”

With an odd tone carrying both longing and a distant ache, Zhu Hong says, “His man fucked him so hard he can’t get out of bed obviously.”

Not about to disappoint, Guo Changcheng is so shocked by these words he ends up sitting down crookedly, and the chair rolls away from beneath him, leaving him to crash solidly onto the floor.

Zhu Hong glances dismissively at Guo Changcheng, telegraphing what a fuss about nothing, and sucks her teeth at him. “Our leader is a faggot, what are you so surprised about — ai, is everyone’s net slow? This is so infuriating.“

Chu Shuzhi comments, “It’s pretty slow.”

The one taking up all the bandwidth playing an online game is Lin Jing, and he keeps quiet through all of this pretending to be invisible. He doesn’t stay invisible for long though, and as quickly as he’s discovered, Zhu Hong beats him up.

As punishment, they disconnect Lin Jing’s computer from the network and he’s left to waste his time away by playing an offline game called Plant vs. Zombies.

… and that’s why it’s Chu Shuzhi’s turn to beat him up now.

[TN. a reminder: Chu is a Chinese zombie, which I suppose is like both a zombie and a vampire, by western standards.]

Head in his arms, Lin Jing drapes himself over his desk, tearily saying, “These days are so hard to get through.”

Chu Shuzhi orders, “I see you’re so devoid of work you have dan teng. Xiao Guo, don’t bother writing that report. Give it to someone who has nothing to do.”

[TN. 蛋疼 / dan teng, literally ‘egg pain’ is something like a headache, but it’s closer to the saying, ‘that makes my testicles hurt.’ You can use it in place of the word headache about things/people/situations that gives you a headache, BUT the word differs from a headache in that it is also used for boredom. So bored your testicles hurt. I have no idea where this came from but you don’t need to have testicles to say it. It’s also used in sentences like “that has dan teng to do with me” in which case it’s just a mildly crass way of saying ‘nothing.’]

Guo Ghangcheng looks over at Lin Jing, and finds him tearfully taking a selfie to capture his ‘as rain on pear blossoms’ look, and laughs, not unkindly. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll write it.”

Lin Jing, pooled on his desk, steals a glimpse of Guo Changcheng, and after a while, does it again.

Guo Changcheng is sitting there typing quietly, slow and meticulous the way he does everything, not a hair out of place. Lin Jing, watching him, finally can’t suppress his curiosity any longer, and with lightning speed he stands just to pluck a hair off Guo Changcheng’s head over his desk.

Guo Changcheng cries out in pain, looks bewilderingly up at him.

Lin Jin gives off a mischievous laugh. “It’s nothing. Just some research.”

“It’ll just give off the smell of burnt protein if you set it on fire,” Chu Shuzhi scoffs, not bothering to look up. “Hair is just a part of the mortal shell. Every reincarnation one gets a new shell. How could it have anything special to it? Your research is skin-deep.”

Lin Jing asks after a pregnant pause, “How did you know what it’d smell like if you set it on fire? Did you already try to burn it?”

Chu Shuzhi ignores him.

“What I still don’t understand,” Lin Jing says, playing with that one strand of Guo Changcheng’s hair, the humour vanishing from his face . “How could such a perfectly normal looking young man be … ai, Xiao Guo, do you think there is anything special about you? Something that’s different from other people?”

They’re not sure how, but everyone’s come to a tacit agreement to not mention anything regarding the Zhenhun Lamp in front of Guo Changcheng. Guo Changcheng stares back at Lin Jing blankly and doesn’t get what he’s saying at all. He shakes his head. “Oh, maybe I’m a bit dumber?”

Lin Jing says ,“But …” and pauses, his voice stopping suddenly.

Kunlun Jun has confirmed that Guo Changcheng is the Zhenhun Lamp’s wick. He’s lived a hundred lifetimes and underwent a hundred calamities and none of it altered his first intentions. The merit accumulated on his soul is a match to Nuwa who created humans, and yet heaven’s given him no blessings and no favours. He has no luck nor fortune; he toils in obscurity ignorant of what he is. Lin Jing’s words fade to silence as he realises he doesn’t want to tell Guo Changcheng about this at all, even if this young man, who lit the last Zhenhun Lamp, who can be said to have finally ended the war between chaos and order, is so extraordinary.

[TN. Merit = positive karma. Good, virtuous actions; every time you choose not to do harm, you gain merit.]

Without a third eye, yet he can always see the truth.

Great Merit, heaven-sent, and yet he remains a nobody.

“But what?” Guo Changcheng asks, puzzled.

“Nothing … I was just wondering how come the sceptre handed down by Kunlun Jun is called ‘Zhenhun-Ling,’” Lin Jing mutters, and he doesn’t wait for Guo Changcheng to figure out what he’s said before he asks, “Oh yeah, what do you do after work?”

[TN. 鎮魂令 zhen / subdue, hun / soul, ling / command]

Guo Changcheng lists off, “Oh, I have to make a delivery to Nana Li’s house, and the Southern Tibet Educational Support Group is working on their summer plans so I’m going there afterwards. I work on things like posters and brochures for them in the evenings.”

Lin Jing’s fingers count unconsciously through his prayer beads. “Hinayama the Lesser Vehicle said that the only person who can help you cross the great river is yourself, but after, Mahayana the Greater Vehicle spoke of ferrying all living things across to reach the shores of enlightenment — come to think of it, I’ve wondered this whole time: Xiao Guo, you’re so busy running around everyday. What do you do it all for?”

[TN. 度 / du literally means “to cross (a river)” and in Buddhism it means to “cross the river to the shores of enlightenment.” It carries the meaning of ‘saving’ or ‘salvation,’ and leads to an ‘escape’ from the Wheel of Reincarnation. What Lin Jing paraphrased is from the Lotus Sutra. 佛自住大乘，如其所得法，定慧力莊嚴，以此度眾生。]

Guo Changcheng says, “I don’t … don’t do it for anything. It’s not like I have anything else to do.”

“Then how do you decide for yourself what to do, and what not to do?” Zhu Hong cuts into the conversation.

Guo Changchen swallows, stretching out his neck like a goose freshly plucked out of the water; he has no idea why everyone suddenly seems interested in him. Maybe he’s seen too many dramas: being the centre of attention always makes Guo Changcheng feel as though he’s acquired a terminal illness, giving him the misconception that he’s not long for the world.

Subconsciously he begins to stammer.

“I, I just don’t do bad things, and occasionally, if there’s something I can help with then I help out. I don’t know anything about anything.” Guo Changcheng’s voice gets smaller and smaller as he speaks, until it naturally becomes as high and quiet as a mosquito.

“I’m suddenly reminded of a saying,” Chu Shuzhi, who’s kept quiet all this time, cuts in. “I saw it on a mural of an old tomb. Impossible to say which era it’s from, now. It said, ‘Men’s hearts harbour corruption, often suffer from worry, hold grudges from anger, commit countless crimes they ought not. Only the three words ‘do no harm’ is the greatest virtue under heaven, and of those who can benefit mankind and subdue souls, there is none other.’”

[TN. priest made this part up, it’s not in any sutras, The word here for 濟 / benefit also means “ferry,” which ties into the sutra Lin Jing quoted above.]

“Of those who can benefit mankind and subdue souls, there is none other…” These words seem to float halfway across Dragon City, from the elder Zhao … no, from Shennong-bo’s mouth. “Recently, I have been harbouring doubts.”

Zhao Yunlan sits lazily reclining by the window, crossing an ankle over one knee, looking outside. Dragon City University’s head office is within view; he has no idea if it’s because exams are near, but Shen Wei is surrounded by students asking him questions as soon as he’s finished class. Zhao Yunlan follows him with eyes carrying a hint of a smile, and spares very little attention he has left to ask, “Hmm, like what?”

“The divine wood plaque Shansheng left behind — why is it called the Zhenhun-Ling?”

[TN. Shennong-bo always uses the more polite form of ‘you’ when addressing Kunlun. 您/nin instead of 你/ni. He also refers to Kunlun as 山聖/Shansheng, which in this configuration means ‘sacred mountain,’ btw, this is not a real world title, no god is referred to by it, priest made it up afaik. From Shennong-bo’s mouth, it’s just another way to say ‘you.’ I’ll use the pinyin when it’s a name/title, and a translation when it’s a common noun.]

Zhao Yunlan sweeps over a glance. “What do you think?”

Shennong-bo stops to think, then carefully choosing his words, says, “I have heard that there are only two kinds of people who are unafraid of death. One who is carrying out the true wish of his heart, blames on one, has no regrets. The other, one who knows exactly what is on the other side of death. In these five thousand years, the Zhenhun Lamp continued to burn. All of this happening now: the shattering of the Lesser Wheel of Reincarnation, the creation of the Greater Wheel of Reincarnation using the Ghost King’s soul as a medium and borrowing Great Merit from the Zhenhun Lamp to join them together — is it all just a gambit by the Old Gods?”

The corner of Zhao Yunlan’s mouth rises, revealing a dimple on his cheek. “If we’re so clever, then how come we all died off one by one? Shennong asked you to keep an eye on Zhanhun-shi. Did five thousand years of watching him turn you into a conspiracy theorist?”

Shennong-bo just looks more and more suspicious. “Then why did Shansheng leave behind the Zhenhun Lamp and the Zhenhun-Ling? Why did my founding teacher just happen to let out your memories and powers at that exact, crucial moment?”

“When Shen Wei decided to wipe my memories, he’d already fulfilled everything he agreed to in his contract,” Zhao Yunlan pours himself a cup of tea, “The contract is concluded, and the influence Shennong had on both of us dissipated entirely, and that’s why I was able to ‘wake up.’”

Shennong-bo says, “Then you’re saying … it’s a coincidence?”

“That’s not it, either,” Zhao Yunlan murmurs after a little thinking.

Shennong-Bo is even more confused.

Zhao Yunlan looks at him, but not in the way a son looks up at his father. His gaze passes through their two mortal shells, falling onto the medicine pot itself.

At this moment, he seems to have become an elder.

“Wait some more,” he says. “Maybe give it another thousand, another two thousand years, you’ll get it. Some things must be learned through your own experience; it won’t do you any good for someone else to just tell you. When you want to sacrifice your life for a just cause, you’ll be able to grasp truths that no one else could understand. Whether it’s about the Zhenhun Lamp or Shennong’s contract, when we made those decisions at the time, we were only able to grasp a shadow of the future. It could move in a good direction, or maybe …”

Shennong-bo asks, “And if it didn’t move in a good direction?”

“The world will naturally gain new gods after we die. They’ll learn from our mistakes. It’s not in vain.” Zhao Yunlan hears Shen Wei’s familiar footsteps coming upstairs, and he gets up, takes the windbreaker he’s hung on the back of his chair and throws it over an arm. He turns his head to Shennong-bo, “Aren’t you one of the ‘new’ gods?”

Shen Wei arrives as Shennong-bo is still mulling over that, and with an indifferent air gives him a courteous, perfunctory nod. When his gaze lands on Zhao Yunlan, it softens in an instant. He asks, “Are you leaving now? Have you finished with your conversation?”

Zhao Yunlan makes a sound of agreement, and says to Shennong-bo, “Drive carefully on the way back, don’t let my dad notice anything. Take good care of his body.”

Shennong-bo stands, saying deferentially, “I must thank Shansheng for the guidance. In truth, I came today to beg my leave. It can be said that I have accomplished my task and it would be unseemly to hang onto a mortal’s body any longer.”

Zhao Yunlan seems taken aback, but only for a second. “When are you leaving?”

“Today,” Shennong-bo says, “I’ll return elder Zhao home right away.”

[TN. 趙先生 could be translated to Mr. Zhao, but Shennong-bo is old and formal, so I went with what 先生 would have been translated to according to Mencius. 先生，父兄也。And older man in a family, a father or an older brother.]

“That’s good.” Zhao Yunlan thinks for a second, and without a care, waves his goodbyes. “Take care. Don’t hesitate to come to me if you need anything.”

The couple leaves for downstairs together. Shennong-bo stands silently by the window, and watches the two of them move unhurriedly toward a residential neighbourhood across from campus full of European style houses with gardens, walking at an leisurely speed like they’re taking an afternoon walk. He’s reminded of what Zhao Yunlan said, that he’s been waiting for Shen Wei so they can move house together.

Farther ahead, from the neighbourhood greenbelt to the immense balconies of the buildings, clusters of flowers of every colour blossom soundlessly where they pass. Only now does Shennong-bo realises that spring is already in the air.

[TN. 春意 means both ‘the start of spring’ and ‘thoughts of love.’]