Chapter 25: Reality: The Magazine

Chapter 25: Reality: A Magazine

Hangzhou's summer was affectionate and bright, with young men standing in the light, forming their own picturesque scenes.

It wasn't until Ming Yiyang had to scan the QR code for the driver that he casually glanced at the deposit amount.

Fifty thousand yuan.

After deleting the transfer message, he arrived at a trendy coffee shop based on the address provided.

It was not a place he would typically have any interest in entering.

Despite it being a weekday, the café was filled with fashionable young men and women.

As soon as he pushed the door open, most of the patrons' attention was drawn to him.

Ming Yiyang was already accustomed to various gazes from the outside world.

With sharp eyes, he scanned his surroundings but didn't spot anyone familiar. Thus, he chose a small private booth and sat down.

The waiter approached him proactively and softly asked what he would like to drink.

The young man habitually took out a pack of soft cigarettes from his pocket:

"I'm waiting for someone. I'll order when they arrive."

The waiter nodded and said warmly,

"Feel free to call me if you need anything... Oh, and by the way, smoking is prohibited indoors here. If you do need to smoke, we have an outdoor smoking area..."

The waiter's reminder dwindled in volume. Ming Yiyang couldn't help but recall Yan Qiling's crisp request:

"Give me the cigarette."

With a sudden grip on the pack, the young man nonchalantly slipped it back into his pocket:

"Understood."

The waiter quietly retreated.

Ming Yiyang took out his phone to send a few messages before placing it face down on the table, idly observing his surroundings with a keen eye for safety that had become an ingrained instinct within him.

Even after several days since escaping the unforgiving world, his guard never once wavered.

He had encountered veterans fresh from battlefields; for some of them, such constant vigilance was a telltale sign of overwhelming mental strain.

Yet, he felt no such pressure.

Perhaps by the time he became aware of it, this stress had already become an integral part of what sustained him.

Suddenly, a splash of vivid color caught his peripheral vision.

His gaze lingered on a sliding bookshelf in the lounge area.

It held promotional posters for the shop's events and fashionable magazines for customers to peruse during their leisure time.

Initially, he furrowed his brow, then skeptically double-checked what he was seeing.

A couple happened to stroll by the bookshelf, selecting books and completely blocking his view.

When the couple left with their posters in hand, the octagonal shelf had turned to another side, and the content that had caught his attention was nowhere to be seen.

Without hesitation, Ming Yiyang approached and swiftly located the magazine he had glimpsed earlier.

It was a fashion magazine, the title insignificant; what mattered was the person on the cover, dressed in traditional Chinese attire.

With slender fingers, he gently pulled the magazine from the rack.

The cover gradually unfolded before Ming Yiyang's eyes.

A snowy white collar peeked out from beneath a dark round-neck robe, a light celadon hair band raised high. Silver bamboo-leaf embroidery shimmered under the light.

The shangdang belt accentuated the model's slender waist.

The figure reached out to open a white paper fan, with a smoking pipe and an embroidered sachet hanging from the waist.

Against a solid crimson background, the model stood out prominently. He faced a stone bench upon which sat an orange cat, its tiny paw reaching out playfully.

The model slightly lowered his head, without a noticeable smile on his face.

Yet, from this angle, one could naturally perceive the affection he had for the little orange cat through his gaze.

This scene was incredibly soothing. There seemed to be an intimate bond transcending their different status and species between the model and the kitten, captured forever in that frozen moment.

Ming Yiyang returned to his seat with the magazine in hand.

He didn't immediately open it but gently pressed the cover with the crook of his wrist, intentionally blocking the man's face.

He believed he shouldn't out of curiosity flip through such material, after all, he wasn't genuinely interested in Yan Qiling.

Moreover, even if he were interested, getting to know someone through this manner... was very peculiar.

But.

He genuinely had nothing else to do at the moment.

Supposing he knew nothing about the person, in reality... casually flipping through the magazine due to boredom wouldn't be a big deal.

With this thought, he turned to the first page.

Pages filled with watch and gem advertisements greeted him, but Ming Yiyang had no interest in them. He swiftly flipped through, skipping over sections with lengthy text.

Before long, a large spread of photos featuring Tang-style clothing captured his attention.

He finally allowed himself to study them more closely.

It was the same photo, except this time the model sat on a stone bench, facing the camera directly.

The little orange cat was crouched beside his feet, its paw raised as if washing its face.

Eyes...

His thumb unconsciously brushed across the figure's eyes in the picture.

The signature red and blue heterochromia was gone, replaced by ordinary black eyes like any other person.

The man's handsome face appeared less devilish, now imbued with a refined elegance reminiscent of clear winds and bright moons.

The former allure was transformed into a refreshing glass of lemon soda in the summer, with the tinkling sound of ice cubes colliding in the cup. A mere glance was enough to cool and quench one's thirst.

This was a different aesthetic from the realm of Wujian.

It was as if this guy was an ordinary person you could find anywhere.

Ming Yiyang continued flipping through the pages.

He soon realized that although the article featured a Tang Dynasty-inspired model, its main focus was on how vintage styles could infuse new vitality into contemporary fashion.

The images of the man and the cat served as mere illustrations, appearing only in sections of explanation and description.

The sole piece of valuable information lay in an inconspicuous watermark tucked away in the bottom right corner of the photos.

Photographer: Wang Zhishu.

Model: Yan Qiling.

It was his real name, unbelievably.

Flipping through the pages back and forth, he hadn't deciphered anything when he sensed a familiar presence drawing near.

Decisively closing the magazine, he nonchalantly used his arm to conceal the cover while casting a sidelong glance at the newcomer.

"Latecomers treat," he stated casually.

The arrival lounged into a seat, flashing a row of pearly whites with a playful grin.

"I just sent you an advance payment, so I'm broke now," he quipped.

This person was tall and slender, with a flowing, sky-blue daoist robe that left ample room for movement.

His skin had a slight yellowish hue, but his broad brows and large eyes gave him a handsome, intelligent appearance.

Loosely tied behind his head with a wooden hairpin was a small bun, leaving a few wayward strands to frame his forehead, imparting a charming air of untamed freedom.

What set him apart from ordinary daoists was the lapis lazuli bead earring adorning his left ear. Hanging from the gemstone was a long, deep blue tassel that draped all the way down to his shoulder.

Ming Yiyang was anything but courteous.

"You started a company with just fifty thousand? Hurry up, I'm thirsty."

The man, dressed like a Taoist priest, casually grabbed two tissues to wipe his sweat and scanned the table for drink options. "I give up with you. You really don't treat yourself as an outsider... Ah, it's so hot, my back is drenched."

"Is it that hot?"

While engaging in small talk, the young man subtly moved the magazines from the table to the chair as the other went to find the air conditioning vent by the seat. "I didn't even break a sweat when I arrived. Seems like age does make a difference."

Of course, he didn't mention that he'd taken a taxi.

The other person didn't inquire further, instead rolling up his sleeves to catch the breeze. "Get lost! You have no idea, that damn kid said he found me an interview room. Hey, turns out it was an old factory without any air conditioning! Whoever dares to apply for a job at a factory in this season must be a god."

"Aren't these just what you wanted, affordable and spacious?"

Ming Yiyang smiled, but the schadenfreude in his grin was too obvious.

"Didn't they call the police on you for being frauds?"

"No, not that extreme. Not many people showed up."

"Did you find anything interesting?"

"Nope! I'm the one who got scammed here!"

The blue-clothed Taoist complained bitterly.

"The few who came talked big, but they didn't know anything when I asked. When I inquired about the transportation fees, they said 'train tickets or bus tickets?' Hey, how dare they apply without knowing such basics? They must be in a hurry to be reincarnated."

With the arrival of cold beverages, their conversation took a brief pause.

In addition to regular drinks, they unexpectedly received two small desserts.

The server's face was tinged with a delicate flush, and they couldn't resist stealing another surreptitious glance at the silver-haired young man before addressing him in a sweet tone:

"This is a small gift from our establishment, I hope you both enjoy your dining experience."

The two thanked the waiter, and as soon as he left, the blue-robed Taoist clicked his tongue.

"Look at you, just because you're good-looking, you can get away with anything! It's to the point where I get complimentary items every time we dine out together."

Ming Yiyang picked up the fork and swiftly finished the small dessert, giving him a cold glare.

"Well, then don't eat it."

"What kind of temper is that? You get angry at the slightest provocation."

The Daoist chuckled and, without any hesitation, stuffed the dessert into his mouth with his fork. He mumbled through the sweetness,

"Hmm, after all, it was exchanged for your good looks. I suppose I have to give you that honor."

Ming Yiyang remained unperturbed.

"You're here sipping afternoon tea without finding anyone? Where's that bastard, is he still helping you with the search?"

"He got heatstroke and had to go home. He said he'll try again next week."

"Heatstroke?"

The turn of events pushed Ming Yiyang's threshold for their absurdity to new depths.

He was unusually speechless, yet at the same time, it seemed like something those two would do, which made him instinctively wary.

"The more I listen, the more off it sounds. Don't you remember why you called me out – to talk about Si Shuhao?"

"Of course, of course."

The blue-clothed Daoist took two large sips of his iced drink, visibly rejuvenating himself.

"Rest assured, I wouldn't dare drag you along to witness such an event. Under those terrible conditions, you'd surely curse my ancestors for eighty generations, and in your anger, you might just send the interviewee away."

"At least you have some self-awareness. Alright, tell me, what issue did you divine regarding the third station?"

The young man took out another cigarette and placed it between his lips. The blue-robed Daoist cast him a sidelong glance.

"Young man, smoke less. You don't want to ruin your lungs."

"Mind your own business."

With a snap, he lit the cigarette. His lips applied slight pressure as he exhaled, enveloping himself in a veil of smoke.

"I'm telling you, Hangzhou has banned smoking in indoor public areas. Someone might report you, and you'll end up with a fine."

"Fine then."

He seemed unconcerned, apparently having forgotten the discreet reminder from the server earlier.

"Anyway, the maximum penalty is just two hundred yuan, no detention. If they made me sit here for half an hour without a puff, I'd go crazy."

"Never mind, even a deity couldn't control you," Chi Zihe mused, stroking his chin.

"You know, Station 3 is known as the 'Slaughterhouse.' Even veterans who've been in there a dozen times could meet their end."

"Mr. Si only has one daughter, and he values her greatly. That's why he asked me to use the astrolabe for a reading."

"Well, I predicted that... in Si Shuhao's next encounter with the Slaughterhouse, there might be a 'Heaven' Rank Underworld Lord involved."