Chapter 6 

It was a bright Saturday morning in one of China’s provinces. On Weibo, trolls were busy littering the platform with nonsense. 

Chen Linyao, tucked into a corner, was typing away, sowing chaos online. Whether it was top students receiving awards, couples announcing their engagements, or celebrities making headlines, all except the elderly fell victim to her trashy comments. 

Because, you see, Chen Linyao was a troll with principles. 

Even as a troll, she respected her elders. 

This small act of self-control gave her some satisfaction—though, of course, it would have been better not to troll at all. 

“Where’s breakfast?” 

Xie Zhengjie’s irritated voice broke through her focus. Outside, the sun was already high in the sky, yet this woman was still sitting cross-legged, glued to her little rectangular device. 

Without looking up from her phone, Chen Linyao responded, “Go find something to eat yourself.” 

“Do you want me to return to where I was staying?” 

Upon hearing this, the young woman finally looked up, clearly annoyed. “This is too much! Are you expecting me to take care of everything for you?” 

“If you send me back, you won’t have to take care of me anymore.” 

But sending him back would mean dealing with 2,000 yuan per day in hospital bills. 

Reluctantly, Chen Linyao stood up and pulled out a makeup kit from a cardboard box, prompting the young man to ask,

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m putting on makeup. I’m not going out to buy food looking like this.” 

Xie Zhengjie’s expression turned perplexed as he seemed to mull something over for a while. Narrowing his eyes, he asked cautiously,

“You… don’t know how to make anything other than those instant noodles, do you?” 

The pity on his face was enough to irritate Chen Linyao, but she forced herself to remain calm and replied. 

“Just because there aren’t any ingredients here doesn’t mean I can’t cook. I live alone—it’s more convenient to buy food than cook.” 

“You’re not married?” Xie Zhengjie asked with a strange tone. 

“No, I’m not.” 

“How old are you?” 

“Twenty-four.” 

After answering, Chen Linyao noticed he had fallen silent.

Then, she turned to see him looking at her with an even deeper sense of pity and sympathy. 

“These days, women getting married at thirty isn’t unusual. I still have plenty of time.” 

Raising an eyebrow, Xie Zhengjie looked mildly impressed, then asked,

“So you’re planning to wait until middle age to marry? Or are you practicing some kind of immortal cultivation technique?” 

Middle age, my foot! Thirty wasn’t even out of a woman’s prime! 

If anything, you don’t leave your prime until at least thirty-five. No, scratch that—modern technology has advanced so much that forty-five is the new standard. 

“What immortal cultivation technique are you talking about? There’s no such thing here.”

By now, Chen Linyao was certain there was something wrong with his brain. It was one thing to accept that he thought he was a prince with an emperor father and empress mother, living in an imperial palace. 

But this talk of immortal cultivation techniques was just a step too far. 

I believe you love acting, but don’t go overboard. 

“They don’t exist here, then?” Xie Zhengjie mused for a moment before nodding in agreement. “I suspected as much. You people are far too weak—look at me, severely injured, yet it took that many of you to restrain me. So it’s true, there really are no cultivators of immortality here.” 

Chen Linyao looked at the young man up and down, from head to toe. His face was pale yet vibrant with a healthy flush, his hair was glossy and jet-black, and there wasn’t a single bruise on his body. 

It had taken five or six strong men at the hospital just to hold him down. 

Severely injured, my foot! 

“And where exactly are you injured? I don’t see anything wrong.” 

“My spiritual foundation has deteriorated significantly. You wouldn’t be able to tell since you haven’t trained in the ways of immortality.” 

Ah, so it’s an immortal cultivation drama! Chen Linyao resolved to look up filming details for such productions after breakfast. 

The idea amused her. How many thousands of years would he claim to have lived? Had he once resided near a peach blossom forest? Did he have any junior disciples or female apprentices who disguised themselves as men to join his sect? 

“Xie Zhengjie, how old are you?” 

Since he had introduced himself, it was only polite to address him by name. Later, when speaking to the female officer, she could ask if there were any records of someone by that name. 

“Twenty-two.” 

Chen Linyao turned her head sharply, her face lighting up with joy. Without missing a beat, she declared,

“So, you’re younger than me. From now on, call me big sister.” 

“Are you a princess? Do you have an imperial father as the emperor and an imperial mother as the empress? If you said such presumptuous words in my kingdom, you’d have been dragged off for execution immediately.” 

“But here, everyone calls older women ‘big sister,’” Chen Linyao countered, trying to persuade him. “Go on, call me Big Sister Linyao.” 

Xie Zhengjie glanced at her briefly, then said dismissively,

“Xiao Chen (Little Chen, the word 'xiao' is used to refer to someone younger).” 

Xiao Chen, your sister! 

Chen Linyao’s face darkened. Not only did he refuse to call her “big sister,” but he had also demoted her to “little sister.” 

I’m older, right? 

I’m older—so why am I the little sister? 

“In the palace, there are many eunuchs who serve me. Some of them are five or even ten years older than me, yet I address them as ‘Xiao’—and they’re delighted by it.” Xie Zhengjie thought for a moment before saying. “I remember one eunuch surnamed Mu who was already fifty years old. Whenever I called him ‘Xiao Mu,’ he’d smile ear to ear.” 

Chen Linyao imagined herself coughing up blood. 

Eunuchs? You’re a eunuch in the morning, a eunuch in the afternoon, and by evening—guess what? You’re still a eunuch. 

At least I’m a woman. Why don’t you compare me to a maid instead? 

Chen Linyao felt a sense of impending defeat, then realized that the young man had been boasting about his spiritual cultivation, so she planned to put an end to his bragging.

“You said you were severely injured and that your cultivation level has dropped significantly. What exactly can your cultivation level do?” 

Xie Zhengjie’s tone carried a trace of superiority as he began to explain,

“The higher one’s cultivation level, the greater the power they can wield. Previously, I trained in refining elixirs, converting cultivation energy into intense flames. If my cultivation level hadn’t dropped, I could have healed my internal injuries on my own. Unfortunately, my current level is too low—I can no longer generate such powerful flames.” 

Toward the end, his voice carried a tinge of regret. But Chen Linyao, who felt she’d been bullied by him multiple times, couldn’t care less. Instead, she found herself quietly delighted. 

“If you can’t create intense flames, surely you can manage a small, simple flame?”

Chen Linyao challenged with a slight taunt. Xe Zhengjie paid her no mind and simply nodded in response.

"What's the difficulty?"

He set down the remote and water bottle, then raised both hands, weaving a series of intricate gestures. Chen Linyao, ready to mock him mercilessly, watched with anticipation. 

It was a bright and breezy morning in her city. Just opening the balcony door allowed a refreshing breeze to blow in.

But as Xie Zhengjie completed a few more gestures, a wave of heat emanated from his hands. Chen Linyao, who had been mentally preparing her snarky remarks, found herself frozen in disbelief. 

Because right there, in Xie Zhengjie’s palm, a flame had actually appeared.