Love Travels through Time (My father who traveled through time and space to cultivate immortality came back to pick me up) - Chapter 101

Chapter 101: Side Story—Modern Chapter (Part 1)

[Modern Chapter Side Story]

A certain city in the North.

On a stiflingly hot summer afternoon where not even a breeze could be hoped for, the Meteorological Bureau issued a notice stating that a rainstorm would arrive shortly, hoping citizens would remain indoors as much as possible.

Many citizens felt astonished upon receiving the text message.

With clear skies for ten thousand miles, where was there any sign of rain?

Unexpectedly, ten minutes later, thick layers of clouds accumulated in the sky, and the color of the day turned dark at an extremely rapid speed.

A torrential rainstorm plunged down abruptly, thunder rolling.

The instant purple lightning tore through the cloud layer, looking from afar, it appeared as though a terrifying claw reached down toward the earth from the clouds.

Only to have its “hand” poked by the lightning rod atop a tall building, after which it yanked back.

In truth, this rainstorm belonged to “artificial” rainfall—intended to conceal the anomalous phenomena caused when the Huaxia Special Affairs Handling Department (shortened to the “Special Department”) activated the array to connect with the alternate world.

The lightning resembled an aircraft, while the lightning rod served as the entry gate.

The instant the lightning made contact with the lightning rod, two figures descended alongside the lightning—none other than Xiang Haikui and Yin Changli.

Spiritual energy erupted from their bodies, bouncing the torrential downpour away.

“Sure enough, just as that Minister Qu Song said, my spiritual energy is being suppressed terribly.”

Xiang Haikui hadn’t even opened her eyes yet, but she had already discovered this issue.

Her spiritual energy had lost at least seven-tenths, leaving only thirty percent.

This was caused by the difference in spiritual energy attributes between the two worlds.

It would take time to adapt.

“I’m alright,” Yin Changli said after examining himself.

“Nonsense.”

Just as Xiang Haikui opened her eyes, she gave him a white-eyed glare first.

Having lost his demon core, he was currently re-cultivating and hadn’t recovered much magic power at the moment, so the difference in spiritual energy didn’t affect him much. “How is your body?”

Traversing through worlds severely consumed physical strength; even the full-of-vigor Xiang Haikui could barely handle it, let alone him.

Yin Changli smiled gently.

“Alright.”

“Really.”

“Mm.”

Xiang Haikui knew it was false but didn’t expose him.

“Leaving just like this, is it really fine?”

Before leaving, Bai Xingxian had already begun taking steps to release those Shanhai prisoners.

Yet Yin Changli had played the hands-off boss, following her back to Earth.

“With you absent, aren’t you afraid those powerhouses will break their agreement with you and refuse to obey Little Bai’s orders?”

“Since they accepted, whether I live or die, they will not go back on their word.”

Yin Changli possessed confidence.

“Aren’t you afraid some among them agreed out of expediency—accepting first, then reneging after escaping?”

The moment Xiang Haikui asked this, she immediately shook her head.

This question of hers lacked quality; if the Shanhai powerhouses were this smart, they wouldn’t have been captured in the first place.

Yin Changli answered nonetheless, “Setting aside those who disdain lying, there are two who simply cannot lie. One is Diting; he is naturally incapable of lying. The other is Frog Dragon; the surface of his body changes color—happy turns red, sad turns yellow, and lying turns green. I don’t need to distinguish it at all.”

Xiang Haikui nodded, unruffled.

The spiritual energy storm caused by the array connection gradually subsided.

Yin Changli smiled faintly, raising a hand to smooth a strand of hair by his temple that had been ruffled by the gale.

“This hairstyle suits you quite well.”

Only now did Xiang Haikui notice that his head of ink-black long hair was no longer draped loosely over his shoulders; it was tied up high into a ponytail.

“Accompanying me back to my parents’ home, you even specially changed your hairstyle—you’re placing quite a lot of importance on it, huh.”

It looked good.

Xiang Haikui smacked her lips.

In the past, she had always felt this dog was suited for a noble and icy style.

Unexpectedly, once tied into a ponytail, he became a handsome young guy—vibrant with vitality, filled with youthful air.

Sure enough, when a person looks good, they can easily master any style.

“Naturally I must place importance on it; it wouldn’t do to lose face for you.”

No matter what Yin Changli thought in his heart, he certainly had to go along with her words.

Xiang Haikui raised her eyebrows.

Today could be called returning home in glory and wealth; she had dressed up meticulously as well.

After a peal of thunder passed, Xiang Haikui heard a deep male voice say, “Miss Xiang, you and I meet again. As for this gentleman, he must be Yin Changli, Senior Yin, correct?”

It was Qu Song.

Xiang Haikui didn’t distinguish him by his voice, but by his exceptionally distinctive cadence.

Just listening to his voice alone gave off the impression of someone who was completely frigid and detached.

Tracing the sound with her eyes, she saw Qu Song walking toward her from a distance.

With short hair, he wore a dark blue Chinese tunic suit, a vintage fountain pen tucked into his breast pocket.

Behind him stood a row of subordinates dressed in suits and leather shoes, one of whom held an umbrella over his head.

Exuding grand style.

She had heard he was a person from the Song Dynasty.

Coming before them, Qu Song cupped his hands to Yin Changli.

“Senior Yin.”

Yin Changli politely returned the courtesy.

“Alliance minister… Qu.”

Qu Song then extended a hand to Xiang Haikui.

“Miss Xiang, welcome home.”

Xiang Haikui hurriedly shook it.

“Thank you, Minister Qu.”

She and Yin Changli were standing atop a building over forty stories high, surrounded by a forest of skyscrapers flashing with neon lights.

“Is this the headquarters of the Special Department?”

“Yes.”

Qu Song nodded.

“Looks like it’s right inside the city center?”

In Xiang Haikui’s mind, a cultivation alliance’s headquarters ought to be located on some mountain.

A Daoist temple or something of the sort.

Never in her wildest dreams did she expect it to be an office building.

Could this be the legendary “great hermit hiding in the bustling city”?

“Indeed.”

“Opening an array on the roof in the middle of the city center—aren’t you afraid of being discovered by mortals?”

“With the rainstorm covering for us, even if there are strange phenomena in the sky, nothing can be seen.”

Qu Song looked up at the sky.

“As for the rooftop, there is an isolation array.”

“Technological means can’t crack it?”

“Our arrays have been modified using technological means.”

Xiang Haikui was filled with endless emotions.

The departmental staff behind Qu Song were all fully aware that activating an array capable of stirring up weather phenomena should, according to standard procedures, be docked using a “lightning rod” near the northwestern desert, minimizing trouble for mortals as much as possible.

However, this Miss Xiang—who had already cultivated to the Ninth Grade at such a young age—was a talent the Minister was desperately eager to recruit. Although she had agreed to join the Special Department, she hadn’t formally signed the contract yet and could be poached at any moment.

If Miss Xiang had landed in the desert, it would take time for the Minister to rush over, and bringing her back to headquarters would take time as well—making it very easy for other factions in Huaxia to steal a march on them and poach her from under their noses.

The contract was already prepared, ready to be handed over at a moment’s notice.

Yet Qu Song made no mention of this matter, turning his gaze toward Yin Changli instead.

“Senior Yin, taking a person from my realm without permission violates the laws of our realm. Although it caused no severe consequences, it still requires accepting punishment. My younger sister Qu Yue should have informed you of this point, correct?”

Yin Changli nodded.

“My arrival this time is precisely to stand trial.”

“Standing trial is too grave a term.”

Qu Song cupped his hands.

“My sister should have told you—according to the laws, you have two choices: one is to stay in prison for six months to a year, and the other is to make up for your misdeeds through service.”

“He chooses to make up for his misdeeds through service,” Xiang Haikui said straight to the point.

“However, he is currently unwell in body. Whatever task there is, I will do it in his place.”

She was going to join the Special Department anyway; handling public business alongside personal affairs was a guaranteed win without a loss.

Qu Song said solemnly, however, “Miss Xiang, that won’t do.”

Xiang Haikui knit her brows.

“Won’t do? Didn’t your sister say a family member could do it on his behalf?”

The word “family” flowed out from her throat like fine wine, intoxicating Yin Changli until he grew dizzy with joy.

With the corners of his lips curling up slightly, his mind drifted into a daze for a moment, unaware of what the two were arguing about.

Qu Song pointed out.

“A family member can do it on his behalf. What I meant by ‘won’t do’ is that the task you ‘do on his behalf’ must be uncompensated and free of charge. You cannot be credited with pay; this is the rule.”

Xiang Haikui let out an “Ah.”

The corners of the mouths of the crowd behind Qu Song twitched violently, especially the one holding the contract, whose wrist was trembling.

Yes, this approach was very “Minister,” but the contract hadn’t been signed yet! At least wait until after coaxing her into signing the contract before exposing his true nature!

“Minister, it’s not much money anyway. Don’t leave Miss Xiang with a bad impression so she refuses to join us,” the secretary transmitted via voice.

“It’s not a matter of money; it’s that there is no such rule,” Qu Song refused to budge an inch.

“Activating the teleportation array at headquarters today also violated standard procedures, didn’t it?”

“Above standard procedures, there are special procedures. But regarding the pay issue, there is no basis whatsoever.”

“…”

Forget it; the secretary stopped arguing with him, unable to win anyway.

“Alright, I accept!” Xiang Haikui thought about it and found it quite reasonable.

“What needs to be done? Do we do it right now?”

She didn’t like being in debt.

Qu Song quite appreciated her straightforward nature.

“Actually, there is no need for you to do it on his behalf. I have a question here—if Senior Yin can help answer a thing or two, it will count as making up for his misdeeds through service.”

Coming back to his senses, Yin Changli said, “Oh?”

Qu Song retrieved a jade slip and handed it over.

Yin Changli took it.

At the same time, Qu Song gave Xiang Haikui a folder as well.

Xiang Haikui flipped it open—there were text, photos, and videos.

Not long ago, in a certain coastal city, several bizarre death cases had occurred.

The deceased had all died while swimming at the beach, their manner of death horrifying—appearing to have been bitten to death by an animal, yet the bite marks made it impossible to identify the species.

The video only showed the victims thrashing in the water before their deaths, followed promptly by blood dyeing the waters red.

It was suspected to be an unknown marine species.

That area of sea had been locked down.

Afterward, similar cases occurred in another city.

Not by the seaside—the deceased had all died in their homes, likewise dying of being gnawed on, their species still unidentifiable.

One of the victims had a camera installed at home, which captured the scene of his death.

In the camera lens, apart from the victim, there was nothing at all.

Yet the victim seemed to see something terrifying, their pupils shrinking in horror as they screamed, tumbling and rolling on the ground while flesh and blood were torn apart by a monstrous force.

“Cases like this belong to special affairs and fall under our domain to investigate,” Qu Song explained to Xiang Haikui.

“Our personnel rushed over immediately but failed to capture even a trace of demon aura at the scene.”

Yin Changli had his interest piqued. After studying it closely for a long time, he shook his head.

“I am not sure.”

Everyone was deeply disappointed.

If even a powerhouse from the Classic of Shanhai didn’t know what these monsters were, how could they investigate?

Feeling a slight chill run down her spine, Xiang Haikui tugged at his sleeve.

“Could they be ghosts?”

Yin Changli was caught between tears and laughter.

“Don’t forget, I used to work in the Underworld; I am far better at distinguishing ghostly entities than demon beasts.”

“Minister!”

At this moment, a crisp female voice sounded out.

Xiang Haikui watched her approach holding an umbrella, dressed in a jade-green outfit, looking refined and delicate, her eyes bright and animated like dew drops on a lotus leaf.

“Qu Yue?” Xiang Haikui asked.

“Mm.”

Yin Changli cupped his hands, showing even more politeness toward her than toward Qu Song.

“Miss Qu, I trust you have been well since we last met.”

Qu Yue returned the courtesy with a smile.

“Senior Yin, I trust you have been well.”

Xiang Haikui observed her carefully. Her cultivation level wasn’t high, appearing to be shy of the Sixth Grade—a considerable distance away from her own Ninth Grade.

Yet she had been capable of capturing Yin Changli all the way into the Nightmare Ruins and even enabling him to break free ahead of time; it truly made one curious.

Seeing Xiang Haikui staring at her intently, Qu Yue was about to speak when Qu Song said with a stern face.

“Down to business.”

Qu Yue’s expression instantly tightened, and she snapped to attention, standing like a soldier before a superior.

“Minister, we just received news that three more cities have simultaneously experienced occurrences of ‘Shadowless Beasts,’ namely…”

Shadowless Beast was the codename they had assigned to these monsters that left no trace and whose aura could not be captured.

“Jiangbei City?”

Xiang Haikui’s brows knit tightly upon hearing the name of the city where she grew up.

Nudging Yin Changli with her elbow, she said, “I only came back today and something like this happens—could it be… targeted at me?”

“How could that be? The Shadowless Beasts appeared two to three months ago already.”

Yin Changli gave her hand a squeeze, thinking to himself how this bad habit of taking responsibility onto herself was something she just couldn’t change.

“Two to three months isn’t long, but there is a time difference between our two worlds. For us, it’s roughly four or five years ago.”

Xiang Haikui let out a sigh of relief.

Over on Qu Song’s side.

“To work.”

Everyone: “Yes!”

“Minister Qu, I’ll head to Jiangbei as well,” Xiang Haikui stepped forward to say.

“Taking Yin Changli along, maybe if he takes a walk around the scene, he might recognize it.”

It was everything Qu Song could ask for. Watching his subordinate hand over another folder, he suggested, “Why not sign the contract first to become one of us? It will make acting much more convenient.”

Without even looking, Xiang Haikui flipped open the final page, preparing to press her thumbprint at the signature line.

Yin Changli pressed down on her arm.

“Little Kui.”

Xiang Haikui looked up.

Yin Changli gazed into her eyes, transmitting via voice: “Have you thought it through clearly?”

Xiang Haikui was puzzled: “Huh?”

Yin Changli knew she was choosing to join the Special Department without hesitation because they had crossed countless worlds to search for her, and she wanted to repay this favor: “There is no need to force yourself. I am willing to take half the treasures from my mobile palace…”

“You might be willing to part with them, but I’m not.”

Xiang Haikui brushed his hand aside.

“This is just an employment contract, not a deed of indenture—is it really necessary for you to go that far?”

Yin Changli wished for her to live freely and untethered from then on, unwilling for her to live merely to repay anyone’s kindness, so he negotiated: “Giving all of it to them is fine as well. Can that buy you a clear conscience?”

“You’re overthinking it. I’m not doing this to repay any favor; I genuinely want to go see what’s going on.”

Xiang Haikui felt a terrible headache coming on. “In your world, everything I did was out of a forced struggle for survival. Now it’s different—I am doing this voluntarily…”

Saying she had a “sense of responsibility” sounded too pretentiously grand.

Yet the Special Department had expended massive human and financial resources because of her disappearance, crossing countless worlds to bring her home—a perfect interpretation of those two words, giving her a profound “patriotic education.”

Unable to explain it clearly, Xiang Haikui pressed her thumbprint down and handed the contract over.

From this day forth, the Special Department was the place where she would settle down and make her living.

“Qu Yue,” Qu Song instructed.

“Escort Miss Xiang and Senior Yin to Jiangbei as a guide, allowing her to quickly understand how the department operates.”

Qu Yue: “Yes!”

Qu Song: “Senior Yin, I have urgent matters to attend to. Please excuse me.”

Yin Changli: “Please, go ahead.”

A moment later, only three people remained on the rooftop.

Qu Yue asked: “Senior Yin, do you currently have the capability to activate your ‘spherical aircraft’?”

Yin Changli nodded: “I can.”

“That’s great.”

Feeling much relieved, Qu Yue said to Xiang Haikui, “Sister Xiang, within the territory of Huaxia, we cannot fly around as we please. Going out, it is best to use mortal modes of transportation.”

“I understand that.” Xiang Haikui made an “OK” gesture. Pretending to be a mortal, blending in with the mortal population to live, and avoiding using spiritual energy as much as possible.

“However, if there is an exceptionally fast aircraft—such as that black orb in Senior Yin’s hand—so fast that it cannot be captured, it can be used.”

As Qu Yue explained, she leaped onto the edge, imitating a bird call from high above.

A moment later, a streak of light and shadow landed on the rooftop.

It was a man carrying a coffin on his back, with a head of ash-gray long hair covering half of his expressionless face.

Xiang Haikui was startled—what kind of speed was this?!

Yin Changli cleared her confusion.

“This gentleman is Miss Qu’s husband, Jiu Huang. The coffin behind him is a flying magic treasure, much like my little black orb.”

As he spoke, he also summoned the little black orb.

“Then let us set off. You two need only fly in our direction.”

Qu Yue leaped into the coffin and pulled the coffin lid shut.

Jiu Huang slung the coffin onto his back once more, tapped his foot, and flew out of the building’s barrier—resembling a single drop of rain, merging into the curtain of downpour and vanishing without a trace.

Xiang Haikui watched blankly, letting out a long sigh.

“Is this truly the world I lived in for twenty years since childhood?”

Urging her to get inside the little black orb quickly, Yin Changli chuckled.

“Although ours was merely a small world, it could still be said to have everything one could ask for, and you’ve seen most of it. Why do you still look like someone who hasn’t seen the world?”

Xiang Haikui waved her hand.

“You don’t get it; this is different.”

Going to an alternate world was already entering an unfamiliar world to begin with—no matter how rare or bizarre, one could easily accept the premise.

Yet the world she had lived in since childhood actually had hidden attributes; this feeling was just too strange.

“And besides,” Xiang Haikui crossed her arms, looking at the round, chubby little black orb before her, then thinking back to Qu Yue tucked inside the small coffin on Jiu Huang’s back, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“How come I suddenly feel that this mobile palace of yours, filled with countless treasures… isn’t quite as cool anymore?”