Chapter Sixty-Nine: The Demon Cultivator
“Come, let me show you our new home!” Song Yue stood up and said to Qian Qianxue.
Inside the café, all those who had been stealing glances at them now pricked up their ears, and upon hearing this, each one of them looked utterly stunned.
A new home?
Had things really come this far?
Qian Qianxue blushed, helplessly following behind Song Yue. In the eyes of the onlookers, this was clearly a shy yet tacit sign of agreement.
The goddess Qian had really been won over by that shameless rascal!
Many of the young men felt their faith collapse.
What was so great about a brute who only knew how to bully others? Was it just that he had a passably handsome face?
But when they saw Song Yue and Qian Qianxue get into the mysterious eighth-generation Shenlong parked outside, silence fell upon them all.
It seemed... he had more than just a good-looking face.
Driving, Song Yue took Qian Qianxue all the way to the Hangzhou branch of the Administration Bureau. Just as they were about to enter, his wristwatch suddenly vibrated with an incoming message.
Song Yue paused in surprise. Apart from the logistics staff in this building, he was the only one left at the branch—so who could be contacting him?
Upon checking, he realized it was an official message from the Hangzhou authorities.
So, the watch could also be used by the authorities to get in touch.
Reading the message, Song Yue frowned and said to Qian Qianxue, “Let’s go, there’s a mission.”
The two got back in the car. Song Yue set the auto-navigation and the vehicle gently lifted off, soaring away in an instant.
A hundred and thirty miles from Hangzhou, a terrifying murder had taken place in a village—a family of five slaughtered in their own home.
If it had been a normal homicide, it wouldn’t have needed the Administration Bureau; the local authorities would have handled it. But this was no ordinary case.
Song Yue and Qian Qianxue quickly arrived at the scene. It was midday, the sun blazing overhead, and a crowd had gathered outside a three-story house, their faces filled with fear and anxious whispers.
Local law enforcement had already cordoned off the area and stood guard, tense and watchful.
Seeing the hovering car arrive, the officers breathed a sigh of relief, though their expressions remained grave.
After getting out of the car, Song Yue and Qian Qianxue made their way through the crowd and entered.
“You... are you from the Administration Bureau?” asked the local official in charge—a square-faced man in his forties, exuding a faint aura of bloodshed.
He was a martial master.
Song Yue nodded. “Take us inside.”
“You two...” The man wanted to ask for their credentials. They were so young, and strikingly attractive—a pair that would draw eyes anywhere. They hardly looked like agents of the Bureau.
Song Yue met his gaze and silently showed the special-issue watch unique to the Bureau.
Fortunately, the man had dealt with the Bureau before and recognized it.
Though still doubtful—wondering if people this young could handle it—he no longer blocked their way.
Inside, a chilling coldness swept over them. Song Yue was unfazed, but Qian Qianxue instinctively hugged her arms.
“Wait outside,” Song Yue suggested.
Qian Qianxue shook her head. She’d chosen to join the Bureau; such things were inevitable and had to be faced sooner or later.
The older man explained, “The air conditioning was blasting when we arrived. That’s why it’s so cold.”
He led them to the second floor, pointing out three bedrooms. “The farthest is the elderly couple’s room—they were found dead there. Next door is their son, his wife, and their young grandson—all killed.”
From the description, it was a classic case of family extermination—typically either for revenge or money.
But for the local authorities to call in the Bureau, it was clearly not so simple.
Song Yue went first to the room where three members had died. Upon entering, he was startled.
Three desiccated corpses lay on the bed, skin clinging to bone—at first glance, they looked like skeletons.
Qian Qianxue was also taken aback, but quickly composed herself.
They then visited the elderly couple’s room. The old man’s legs dangled off the bed, his body sprawled, sunken, shriveled eyes open. The old woman lay with her mouth slightly agape.
Their deaths mirrored those of the other three—bodies completely drained, skin shrunken over bones, a ghastly sight.
“We’ve seen many homicide scenes, and our nerves are stronger than most, but even my colleagues couldn’t bear this—no one dared come back in,” the older man sighed. “It’s too tragic. Five people, not a single survivor. And the manner of death is so bizarre, we had no choice but to call for your Bureau.”
Song Yue returned to the other room, examining the three corpses closely.
Gruesome as they appeared, their deaths were due to exsanguination.
Reconstructing their appearance in life, Song Yue concluded they likely felt nothing at the moment of death.
Since mastering the Supreme Spirit Technique, Song Yue’s mental acuity and powers of deduction had advanced tremendously.
Just then, Qian Qianxue said, “They must have died without knowing a thing.”
Song Yue looked at her in surprise. Qian Qianxue explained, “I’ve studied this.”
The older man added, “The state of the corpses is so strange. For bodies to become like this under normal circumstances would require very unusual conditions, yet just last night, villagers saw this family out and about.”
“The old man had arranged to go fishing early with a friend. When he hadn’t shown up by eight, his friend dropped by and discovered the bodies.”
“So, the time of death could only have been last night.”
Song Yue asked, “Have there been any suspicious strangers in the village recently? What information can you share?”
The man was somewhat unconvinced—he hadn’t expected the Bureau to send two such young people, thinking it would be some seasoned veteran.
Even so, he acted professionally and shared their analysis.
“The bizarre manner of death—three people turned to husks overnight—couldn’t have been done by an ordinary person. Only a demon or a practitioner of dark arts. Before you arrived, we checked—no strangers have been in the village recently.”
“In small villages, everyone knows everyone. Even a new face would be noticed.”
Song Yue employed his Supreme Spirit Technique, searching the rooms for traces, and asked, “Could it have been someone familiar to the villagers? Has anyone returned recently after years away?”
“Impossible!” the older man scoffed, thinking Song Yue was too inexperienced.
He’d already said: such deaths could only be caused by supernatural beings, hence the call to the Bureau. Their goal wasn’t just to solve the case, but to capture the perpetrator.
Otherwise, after such a tragedy, no one in the region would dare sleep at night, fearing they might wake as a dried corpse.
And the longer such a case dragged on, the more the rumors would spread, increasing the pressure on the authorities.
“Have you investigated?” Song Yue sensed the man’s lack of trust. At first, he hadn’t minded—he was only eighteen, possibly younger than the man’s own children. But the man’s stubborn insistence irked him.
Solving a case relied on logic and evidence. Until there was proof these five were killed by supernatural means, anyone with access was a suspect.
“Well... not yet.” The man realized his attitude was amiss, having been too obvious in his doubts.
“Sorry, my attitude was off.” He corrected himself, pulled out his phone, and ordered colleagues to check for villagers who’d returned after a long absence, adding, “And see if this family had any disputes in the village.”
If not for the assumption that supernatural forces were at work, this line of investigation would have come first.
Qian Qianxue glanced at Song Yue, curious if he’d discovered something.
Song Yue waved her off. “Let’s wait for their findings.”
He had indeed found something.
The three in one room had been killed while asleep, unaware of their fate.
But the elderly couple—it was different.
Replaying the scene in his mind, Song Yue deduced the old man had gotten up and was speaking to someone who had entered. The old woman, still in bed, mouth open, was likely saying something as well.
Then the visitor attacked, killing them so swiftly that they had no chance to cry out, nor did they disturb the sleeping family next door.
Usually, an experienced officer would have noticed such details, but the horror of the deaths must have rattled them. Their first thought was supernatural involvement and they called in the Bureau.
The older man seemed to realize something, glanced into the other room, and drew the same conclusion as Song Yue.
“The old man probably knew the visitor. When we arrived, there were no fingerprints—we assumed it was a demon or fiend. But we overlooked that the light was on...”
“That means the old man let the person in and exchanged a few words before being killed...”
He sighed, shaking his head wryly.
“Young man, you’re sharp! We’d never seen such deaths—we panicked and lost our heads.”
He apologized to Song Yue, no longer daring to underestimate this young Bureau agent.
Indeed, those who serve in the Bureau are never ordinary.
“No worries. It’s my first time seeing something like this too. These deaths are chilling,” Song Yue replied.
In the past, he might have mocked them, but recent experiences had matured him.
Soon, an officer reported their findings.
“Chief, we found something. At the east end of the village lives a family—the father died young, leaving only the old mother and a son. Over a decade ago, the mother argued with the victim’s father and died of a heart attack.”
“The son left to work elsewhere, only returning for memorials, never otherwise. But a few days ago, he came back and stayed at home for several nights, leaving early this morning.”
The young officer reporting this looked admiringly at the chief. “Chief, you were right—he’s a major suspect. We’ve set up surveillance and are tracking him.”
The chief forced a smile. “It wasn’t my doing...”
Suddenly, Song Yue spoke up. “You’ve set up surveillance? Don’t detain him, just find out where he is and report to me immediately. He’s not someone you can handle!”
The young man faltered, then, understanding, hurried off to make the call.
Soon after, a villager arrived, exclaiming, “Are you looking for Li Dong? He must be the killer! His mother died after arguing with Old Zhang. It has to be him!”
No one except the fisherman had seen the crime scene, and the authorities had sealed off the area, so villagers assumed it was an ordinary murder.
“I know where he is—he went to his mother’s grave!” the villager announced.
The chief glanced at Song Yue, who nodded. “Let’s go!”
Led by the bold villager, the group hurried up the mountain west of the village.
In the cemetery, they reached a grave where no one was present, but burnt offerings still smoldered.
On the grave were offerings and three incense sticks, only half burned.
Song Yue surveyed the area, then turned to Qian Qianxue with a grave expression. “Take them back and protect them. I’ll be back soon!”
Before she could respond, he leaped dozens of meters into the air and disappeared from view.
The local officers all stared in shock, especially the chief, whose mouth twitched.
That young man... was he a martial artist?
So young, yet so powerful—it seemed almost unreal.
Qian Qianxue understood that Song Yue had found the suspect’s trail. Though confident in him, she couldn’t help but worry a little.
Nevertheless, she quickly collected herself and urged the others, “Let’s head back.”
...
In the forest, Song Yue sprinted at full speed.
As they’d approached earlier, he had sensed someone watching from the woods.
An ordinary martial artist, even a grandmaster, could hardly possess such keen senses.
The suspect, realizing he’d been discovered, bolted deeper into the mountains.
Through the towering forest, they raced—one fleeing, one in pursuit—covering miles in the blink of an eye.
As Song Yue gained on him, he caught a glimpse of the fugitive’s back through the dense trees—a tall young man, unfamiliar, but almost certainly the suspect with a grudge against the victims.
The man sensed Song Yue closing in and, realizing escape was impossible, stopped and faced him coldly.
Song Yue observed him—early thirties, dark-skinned, cold eyes, dressed in ordinary sportswear.
“You killed them, didn’t you?” Song Yue asked.
The man clenched his fists and snarled, “So what if I did? They killed my mother—they deserved to die!”
Reading the twisted expression, Song Yue’s heightened senses detected something more.
Though the man looked human, he was anything but.
His body was filled with demonic energy, and a powerful, pitch-black core—a bottomless abyss—lurked within, impenetrable to Song Yue’s mind.
This was someone who had cultivated demonic arts to a high level.
Facing such an opponent, Song Yue was cautious, gripping tightly the small bell Qian Qianxue had loaned him.
“You’re not from around here?” he asked.
The man glared, showing no sign of underestimating Song Yue for his youth.
“I’m from the Bureau of Anomalous Affairs,” Song Yue replied.
“Ha! Who are you trying to fool? All your Bureau’s people died ages ago for meddling where they shouldn’t!” the man spat.
Song Yue was taken aback.
He’d planned to strike suddenly, but now he wanted answers.
“Who told you that?” Song Yue sneered, “I am the acting head of the Hangzhou branch of the Bureau!”
He hoped to draw out more information.
“Heh... trying to trick me? Go to hell!” the man snarled, his body erupting in black mist that formed a massive demonic figure, claws outstretched toward Song Yue.
Song Yue unleashed his own powerful energy, raising the bell and infusing it with his spirit before ringing it forcefully.
Bang!
The man’s body exploded on the spot!
The black mist reformed into a towering shadow, roaring, “You dare destroy my body? Die!”
Song Yue winced. Damn, that was too much—who knew the bell was so powerful?
He rang it again, the clear sound shattering the black shadow into fragments.
With an anguished howl, the shadow vanished completely.
Song Yue retrieved the bell, stunned.
This wasn’t just a magical tool—it was a true artifact!
He hadn’t used it before and never imagined its power.
He even regretted using so much force; had he known, he would have spared the man’s life.
The incident at the Hangzhou branch wasn’t exactly classified, but it wasn’t widely known—this chief, for instance, had no idea.
Yet this man could state outright that the Bureau’s people had all died, and specifically for “meddling where they shouldn’t.”
Clearly, he knew something.
Song Yue sighed, frustrated.
This was his first real mission with the Bureau. He’d completed it, but it was far from perfect.
Still, it wasn’t entirely fruitless. At least he’d linked “demonic cultivators” and “practitioners” as groups that shouldn’t have intersected.
He was reminded of something else—
During a drunken outburst at the Jade Void Stele, he’d learned part of the truth about the Sage’s suppression, and someone had mentioned the Tri-Pine Ancient Sect collaborating with demons...
It seemed the enmity between humans and demons wasn’t as absolute as he’d once believed.
Back at the village, Song Yue pulled the chief aside and told him the suspect was dead—though there was no body.
The chief was speechless, but when Song Yue mentioned that the man was a demonic cultivator, he understood.
“As long as he’s really dead, that’s all that matters. Otherwise, if this happened again, no one would dare sleep.”
Song Yue and Qian Qianxue then took their leave, leaving the aftermath to the local authorities.
Over the next few days, Song Yue split his time between cultivation and working with Qian Qianxue to sort out matters at the Hangzhou branch.
A large department, and apart from the cafeteria and janitorial staff, only the two of them were left.
Wenrou had agreed to join, but still had affairs to settle at school, so it would be a few days.
Xiao Qi had left for home, having found clues to a grand tomb. He told Song Yue he’d arrange a time to meet once he’d investigated further.
Xiao Meng was busy taking over management of the Elite Martial Arts Gym, ready to make sweeping changes.
Lin Huan and Xiao Mo were still in Hangzhou, waiting for Song Yue to find time to return to Tianyue Star with them.
These busy days left Song Yue little time for them, and Lin Huan called to ask about it.
“I know you’re not feeling great lately, but surely the branch can function without you?” As her family’s representative on Earth, Lin Huan had a broad network.
The Lin family’s connections in the East were extensive and high-level.
So she had sources beyond Hangzhou, but knew only that something had happened at the branch—not the extent of it, let alone that Song Yue was now in charge.
“Actually, without me... it really can’t run,” Song Yue sighed.
“Yeah, right!” Lin Huan didn’t believe him.
Song Yue sighed again.
He and Qian Qianxue were overwhelmed. With Zhao gone, many affairs that once ran smoothly now left them scrambling.
Even if Zhu Jia and the others had been promoted, they’d be just as lost.
After a few interactions, Song Yue felt Lin Huan was pretty decent. Xiao Mo, though shy like Wenrou, was certainly not as weak as she seemed—anyone sent to Earth from her family had to have strengths.
So, after some thought, and reasoning that free labor shouldn’t go to waste, Song Yue invited Lin Huan, who had called to complain—
“Sister Lin, since you don’t believe me, why not come and see for yourself?”
“Is that a real invitation?”
“It is! Absolutely! If you don’t believe me, look at my face!”
“Bah! It’s a voice call—how am I supposed to see your face?” Lin Huan scoffed. “Isn’t the Bureau off-limits to outsiders?”
“What are you saying? We’re friends—how can you be an outsider?” Song Yue replied sincerely. “I’ll send you the location, come over, and I’ll bring you in.”
The Bureau’s reputation for secrecy came from its dealings with supernatural threats, rarely appearing before ordinary people, which made it seem mysterious. But in truth, it wasn’t some shadowy agency—just a special one.
Soon, Lin Huan and Xiao Mo arrived, and Song Yue welcomed them inside, where they saw Qian Qianxue, busy amid stacks of files.
They nodded in greeting.
Qian Qianxue continued sorting documents—they needed to be thoroughly familiar with the Bureau, so they had to review all recent files and cases.
Lin Huan looked around in disbelief. “This is the Bureau of Anomalous Affairs? I expected something much more mysterious. It’s just like any other office.”
“There are differences,” Song Yue said. “For one, it’s old and outdated, unlike other office buildings.”
Lin Huan was speechless. She asked, “I heard there was an incident here. The others…”
Song Yue sighed, “Most are gone. The few survivors couldn’t bear to stay and have transferred out.”
Lin Huan murmured, “Sorry for your loss.”
She regarded Song Yue. “So you’re really running this place now?”
She couldn’t quite believe it—was the Bureau really so careless as to put someone under twenty in charge of a branch?
She wasn’t looking down on him; anyone would think the same.
“That’s right. Interested in joining as an auxiliary? See what another world is like?” Song Yue slipped into recruitment mode.
Auxiliary staff—temporary workers! Work when needed, scapegoat when things go wrong.
Qian Qianxue raised her head from the mountain of files to give him a sidelong glance—he was at it again!
“Auxiliary staff? Me?” Lin Huan seemed unexpectedly keen.
She was naturally lively and outgoing, always up for fun and excitement. Since coming to Earth, her life had become much duller.
At first, it was tolerable with Zhang Zixing showing her around, but after his death, she and Xiao Mo had cut ties with the Zhang family, and life grew tedious.
Xiao Mo liked peace and could happily spend days in a hotel on her phone. Lin Huan couldn’t stand it, but had to wait for Song Yue before returning home.
So, the prospect of experiencing the Bureau’s work thrilled her.
“It’s settled, then!” Song Yue tossed her a standard-issue watch and sent her an encrypted document—the rules and procedures he and Qian Qianxue had compiled.
“I’m really a Bureau member now?” Lin Huan was incredulous—it all seemed so hasty, with no sense of ceremony.
“What else did you want? Oh, right—welcome to the Hangzhou Branch of the Bureau of Anomalous Affairs, auxiliary staff!” Song Yue declared.
He needed help, and procedure could wait.
Headquarters wouldn’t care; if they did, he’d quit on the spot.
If recruiting a foreigner as auxiliary was hasty, how much more so was making him, still a teenager, branch chief?
Special times called for special measures.
He then turned to Xiao Mo. “Momo, want to experience the joy of work?”
Xiao Mo replied softly, “Can I?”
Song Yue beamed. “Of course! Outstanding friends from afar are perfect for this work!”
Lin Huan shot him a look. “Now she’s not a foreigner?”
Song Yue replied earnestly, “Who would be so rude?”
He handed Xiao Mo a watch and showed them how to use it, thinking of round-faced Zhu Jia and wondering how she was faring in her new post.
They hadn’t been in touch, but perhaps it was for the best. Survivors should go their separate ways, lest memories of the tragedy bring only sorrow.
As Song Yue had guessed, those sent to Earth by their families had flaws, but their strengths were clear.
Lin Huan and Xiao Mo quickly acclimated, throwing themselves into work. Neither even asked about pay—true rich girls working for fun.
Song Yue loved it.
That afternoon, Song Yue’s watch buzzed again—a message from the same village: another murder!
He could hardly believe his eyes.
He’d killed the demonic practitioner with the bell, and his spiritual scan had found no trace left behind.
How could the same horror strike again just days later?
Before he could unravel the mystery, his watch chimed again and again—five or six remote villages had all suffered identical cases.
Entire families dead, drained of blood, skin stretched over bone—a ghastly, chilling sight.
He read these notices in front of the other three, so all saw and were shocked.
Lin Huan couldn’t help but ask, “Hey? Why does only your watch get these alerts? Why not ours?”
Song Yue replied, “I’m the branch chief—different permissions…”
Halfway through, he froze, then turned to Qian Qianxue. “Qian, call the Hangzhou authorities on our secure line—ask if there have been similar cases recently! Do it now!”
He had a suspicion—
He might have found the cause of Chief Zhao and his colleagues’ deaths!