Ye Yang was woken by the harsh morning sunlight.
Opening his eyes, he hugged the unfamiliar garment draped over him and felt disoriented for a moment. Then, all of a sudden, his whole body jolted as if struck by lightning—the sense he had possessed for hundreds of years had vanished. Just like that!
Gone, just like that?? Ye Yang was completely dumbfounded. He sprang to his feet.
But before he could figure out what was happening, a voice beside him made him jump: “Little one, what kind of demon are you? I can’t tell.”
Ye Yang instinctively clutched the clothes in his hand and nearly leapt into the air. “How do you know I’m a demon?!” Only after speaking did he get a clear look at the person standing next to him. She was an older human woman, her hair full of small curls piled on top of her head. She was slightly plump, but the flesh on her arms was firm—she looked like an ordinary retired auntie you’d see at a public square.
But she was no ordinary person. She had seen right through him at a single glance!
Ye Yang was terrified, every muscle in his body tensed. “Th-that’s not right… How come I can understand what you’re saying?”
“Don’t be scared, little one. I know you haven’t done anything wrong, so I’m not going to catch you. I’m here to help you.” Tu Manli smoothed her hair and tried to soften her tone.
She had been out buying groceries in the morning when she smelled the overwhelming demonic aura from several hundred meters away. Which backwater ravine had this little wild demon crawled out of? It didn’t even know how to conceal its demonic energy.
As the director of the Dongzhou branch of the YCG Human Security Department, and as the YCG’s Model Worker for three consecutive terms, she couldn’t just ignore this when she came across it.
“You’re here to help me? That’s wonderful!” Ye Yang believed her immediately.
This was the first person he’d met in the human world who could actually communicate with him properly. Ye Yang was so emotional he nearly burst into tears. He poured out everything he could think of—how he had accidentally cultivated into human form, how he had hitched a ride on someone’s ship, even how he didn’t know how to read traffic lights and nearly got hit by a car. He left nothing out.
Director Tu Manli could only resist the urge to wipe her brow.
What kind of backwoods—no, deep-sea no-man’s-land—had this little demon crawled out of? How could it have zero wariness? It just met a stranger and spilled everything?
It even casually revealed such private matters as its true demon form and its cultivation roots. And that “mysterious liquid” it mentioned—that clearly sounded like something extraordinary. Though she didn’t know exactly what it was, Tu Manli instinctively felt that there were deep, complex secrets behind it.
She couldn’t help but interrupt Ye Yang: “Have you told anyone else about these things?”
Ye Yang shook his head honestly. “No one else. I can’t understand what other people are saying.”
Then, somewhat curious, he asked, “What kind of demon are you?”
Tu Manli felt another bead of sweat forming on her forehead. To be safe, she had been using a “telepathic communication” spell from the start—it wasn’t that she could truly communicate with Ye Yang seamlessly. Thank goodness for her foresight.
“Do you have any elders, or do you know any other demons?”
Ye Yang shook his head again, being perfectly honest. “You’re the only one I know.” He didn’t even know his own parents. Besides, hundreds of years had passed—his species had probably reproduced countless times by now.
Auntie Tu held her forehead. “I’m not a demon. I’m human.” This kid couldn’t even tell the difference between demons and humans.
“You’re human?!” Ye Yang took a huge step backward, shot Tu Manli a terrified look, and bolted.
Tu Manli was stunned for a moment, but she reacted quickly. Just before Ye Yang could disappear from her sight completely, she hurriedly cast a binding spell to pull him back and casually set up an illusion to keep others from seeing.
The captured Ye Yang grew even more frightened. The fear in his eyes was practically spilling over. Tears pooled in his eyes as if they might fall at any second.
Combined with what Ye Yang had told her earlier, Tu Manli immediately understood what this little creature was thinking.
What kind of luck was this? She had just stepped out to buy groceries, and she happened upon a being who was completely detached from both human and non-human society.
The last time the YCG had encountered someone like this was forty years ago. Back then, she hadn’t even started working yet!
After a moment’s thought, she said, “I’m from the Huaxia Anomaly Management Bureau. We usually call it the YCG for short. In short, little demons like you fall under our jurisdiction. Don’t worry, we won’t harm you.”
She kept reassuring Ye Yang, promising that they wouldn’t randomly hurt harmless little demons like him who had never done anything wrong. Finally, she managed to calm him down a bit.
After releasing the binding spell and confirming that Ye Yang no longer intended to run, Tu Manli breathed a sigh of relief.
“Anyway, the situation now is very different from what’s in your memories. Little demons like you usually need to come to us for study and registration. You have to learn the basics of human society and the non-human world before you can live normally.”
“After that, whether you want to live in human society or in a non-human settlement, you’re free to choose once you’ve passed the various assessments. There’s only one rule: you cannot disrupt the balance between humans and non-humans.”
Ye Yang listened in a daze but roughly understood what Tu Manli meant. Even so, he didn’t want to go. “I have to find my benefactor. I can’t sense him anymore. If I don’t go now, I’m afraid I’ll never find him!”
His earlier perception had told him that his benefactor was very close by—he just couldn’t pinpoint the exact location. Now even that vague sense had disappeared. But Ye Yang believed that if he just kept searching, he would find him eventually.
Tu Manli thought for a moment, then asked, “Do you know how to find him?”
Ye Yang shook his head dejectedly. If he had a way, he wouldn’t still be wandering in circles here.
“See? You have all that inherited memory, you know all those powerful spells that even I don’t know, but without systematic guidance, you can’t even do something as simple as concealing your demonic aura. You definitely don’t know any tracking spells either.”
Ye Yang shook his head again.
Tu Manli clapped her hands and tempted him: “We can teach you at the YCG. Then, no matter where your benefactor is, you’ll definitely be able to find him.”
Ye Yang was intrigued.
Auntie Tu fanned herself and pressed her advantage. “And have you thought about it—once you find your benefactor, how are you going to repay him?”
Ye Yang was dumbfounded. “No… I haven’t.” All he’d thought about was finding his benefactor. What to do after that? He hadn’t given it any thought at all.
“See? That’s the problem,” Tu Manli said, slapping her thigh. “Listen to Auntie—you’re not wrong. Right now, you don’t know anything. You can’t find him, and even if you did, it wouldn’t do any good. Come with Auntie first, learn some useful things, and then you’ll be better equipped to find him. And when you do find him, you’ll know how to repay him!”
Ye Yang grew even more tempted. In the end, Tu Manli added one more thing that completely convinced him.
She said that since Ye Yang had inherited memories, in theory he should have learned a lot of knowledge and many spells. But because his original form was unique, he couldn’t decode that inherited knowledge—which was why his cultivation was still so weak. If his benefactor knew that he had squandered such a great gift and accomplished nothing, that wouldn’t reflect well on him.
But after studying at the YCG, Ye Yang would be able to better absorb that knowledge and become much more powerful. Then, if his benefactor ever needed help with anything, he would be in the perfect position to repay the favor.
After a mix of coaxing and persuasion, Tu Manli successfully brought Ye Yang to the YCG’s Dongzhou headquarters.
·
The YCG headquarters was hidden within the Dongzhou City government building complex.
Dongzhou was a highly developed coastal city. The government buildings were quite impressive, occupying a large area with no enclosing walls—several structures surrounded by natural gardens.
These gardens were open to the public for free. Citizens often camped, picnicked, and strolled through the parks around the government complex, which had become something of a local feature in Dongzhou.
And the entrance to the YCG headquarters was located in an unassuming little door on the side of the main central building.
This spot was far from the parking lots and office areas, right next to the river. Even people who worked here every day probably didn’t know this door existed—and certainly wouldn’t come here.
Director Tu led Ye Yang through this unmarked door using her key card. After a few turns, the space suddenly opened up before them. In the center lay a massive traditional Chinese garden. Sunlight poured down unobstructed, yet it wasn’t as hot as outside. A gentle breeze brushed their faces—it was very pleasant.
The architectural style here finally resembled what Ye Yang had seen in his inherited memories. A sense of familiarity rose from the depths of his heart, and the tension in his body eased considerably.
From the entrance to this point, they had walked at least seven or eight hundred meters.
Ye Yang had no common knowledge of modern society, but he wasn’t stupid. The building outside was only so big—there was no way it could contain a space this vast. And the exterior building was tall, yet inside this space, it felt wide open and even open-air. Clearly, some kind of spatial spell had been used to connect a separate space to the city government building.
Ye Yang’s trust in the YCG grew a little more. This place was truly extraordinary, just as Director Tu had said.
They crossed the garden and entered a long corridor. After winding through several turns, Tu Manli finally stopped in front of an antique-style room. She waved to Ye Yang, who had been obediently following behind her. “Come on, let’s get you registered here.”
Ye Yang blinked. For some reason, he felt that Director Tu’s way of speaking had changed. But he didn’t yet understand the difference between the warm approachability of a local dialect and the formality of standard Mandarin.
Stepping into the room, the decor was consistent with the style outside. A folding screen stood in the center as a partition. Past the screen, the inner area held a row of rosewood tables and chairs, potted plants on side tables, and in the back, a very large desk. The surrounding three walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling cabinets filled with neat rows of files.
As soon as Tu Manli finished speaking, a deep, resonant voice suddenly rang out in the room that had been empty just a moment ago: “Director Tu truly lives up to being a model worker—still working even on a day off.”
Ye Yang was startled. He looked up and scanned the room, but saw nothing at all. Tu Manli, unfazed, walked straight to the desk. “It was quite a coincidence, actually. I came across this child. He’s a good prospect, but he doesn’t know anything, so I brought him over right away—better than having him get accidentally hurt later during patrols.”
The deep voice spoke again: “I see. Bring the newcomer over so I can take a look.”
Tu Manli gave Ye Yang a gentle push. As Ye Yang approached the desk, his body suddenly stiffened. A sharp sting pricked his fingertip, and a drop of translucent, pale green blood was drawn out. It flew up into the air above the desk, split into two droplets, and fell into two small jade plaques.
At the same time, a writing brush on the desk began moving on its own, swiftly filling out a registration form.
Tu Manli pointed to the right of the brush and said to Ye Yang, “This is Director Bai from Registration. Don’t let his unassuming appearance fool you—he organizes and archives every single file in the entire YCG. He’s incredibly skilled.”
“Hehe, Director Tu flatters me. I’ve only done a bit of trivial work. Director Tu, who balances the four realms as a mortal, is the one who has truly achieved great merit.”
It was only then that Ye Yang could see clearly—there was a brownish-cloud agate snail, also known as a white jade snail, resting on the desk. The voice he’d been hearing belonged to this snail.
The snail’s brown body lay against the corner of the desk, blending almost perfectly with the wood. No wonder he hadn’t noticed it earlier.
Suddenly, Director Bai said, “Young friend, place your hand here.”
Ye Yang looked around in confusion, not sure what Director Bai meant. Just as he was about to speak, something suddenly materialized in front of him. Its dazzling light was a bit blinding, and he instinctively stepped back, nearly falling flat on the floor.
“Hahaha,” Director Bai let out a deep, rumbling laugh. “Don’t be afraid. This is a dharma artifact for testing strength. Just put your hand on it.”
Ye Yang looked up and saw that it was a floating glazed lantern, radiant and shimmering, looking quite extraordinary. He instinctively turned to look at Tu Manli. Only when he saw her nod did he dare to reach out.
The light of the glazed lantern gradually shifted, soon stabilizing at a faint green glow.
Director Bai nodded, and the brush began moving rapidly. “Mm, ninth rank. That’s already very good for someone like us—aquatic beings who cultivate on our own.”
Tu Manli took the opportunity to explain the basics to Ye Yang. The ranking system for demonkind was the same as for human cultivators. For humans, the progression started from “unranked” up to the Qi Condensation stage—the key step being drawing qi into the body, transcending ordinary human limits. For demons, being able to take human form was ninth rank, equivalent to a human cultivator’s Qi Condensation stage.
From there, as cultivation advanced, there were eighth rank, seventh rank, all the way to first rank. Above that was achieving demon immortalhood. Some demons were born as demon immortals, but most of those resided in the upper realm—it was very rare to see such powerful beings in the mortal world.
Ye Yang listened, stunned. He actually knew all of this—the inherited knowledge had been stirred up by these basic facts, bringing more to mind.
In addition to humans and demons, the mortal realm also had spirit beings and ghosts. They were few in number, did not need to cultivate, and were not evaluated under the same ranking system as humans and demons. Suddenly, Ye Yang felt a bit worried. What if his benefactor were a spirit being—like a thousand-year spirit stone or a ten-thousand-year spirit fungus…?
Since they were easily caught and used as medicine, spirit beings were especially good at hiding, and they liked to hide—maybe staying hidden for thousands of years without venturing out. They were very hard to find. Ye Yang started worrying to himself: what if his benefactor really was like that? What would he do?
Before he could brood for long, Director Bai asked a few more basic questions. Through this back-and-forth, Ye Yang’s registration was completed. One of the jade plaques infused with his blood went into the archives. The other flew into Ye Yang’s palm, then sank into his wrist, leaving an invisible mark on his skin.
“This is your pass to enter and exit the YCG. It can also identify you when you’re outside.”
Despite his small size, Director Bai was very efficient and quickly handled everything. Upon learning that Ye Yang’s original form was a leaf sheep sea slug—another rare aquatic creature among demons—Director Bai felt a sense of kinship with him. After completing the registration, he even specially fetched all the necessary items for Ye Yang so he wouldn’t have to make another trip.
After filling out the forms for Ye Yang, who couldn’t write, and taking him to his assigned quarters, Tu Manli suddenly remembered: “Oh right! I’m off today, you know. I need to log this overtime—and my groceries! My groceries!”
Before leaving, she carefully reminded Ye Yang once more: even within the YCG, it was best to always keep his demonic aura concealed, so others wouldn’t mistake it for a provocation. And he absolutely shouldn’t casually disclose his origin or background.
Ye Yang nodded repeatedly, looking very obedient.
She had barely made it out the door when Tu Manli came right back.
She strode over, looking uneasy, grabbed Ye Yang by the shoulders, and—yet again—said with utmost gravity: “If you accidentally let slip other things, that might not matter too much. But this is absolutely critical—about that golden droplet, you must not tell anyone. No one at all!”
“Not a single word!”
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