Logan Sullivan frowned. “Let go. Don’t get all worked up, I’m warning you.”

William Sherman didn’t say a word.

Logan Sullivan reached out and immediately touched William Sherman, then turned sideways to push him aside. But William Sherman let out a low groan of pain, and Logan Sullivan felt him tremble slightly. He instantly eased his strength, and slowly groped his way to William Sherman’s chest, where he felt the dried bloodstains on his clothes.

After a while, Logan Sullivan withdrew his hand and said in a neutral tone, “So what do you plan to do next?”

William Sherman was silent for a moment, then spoke with a hint of desolation: “Not much, just sit back and watch the tigers fight— I… I suppose I was born this despicable, unwilling to let these people keep scheming and hiding, always waiting for someone else’s protection.”

William Sherman sensed Logan Sullivan’s resistance, so he finally let go of him and stepped half a pace back: “Though 鬼面 has always seen me as his nemesis, he’s not my enemy. I only agreed to guard the Great Seal for Shennong.”

William Sherman’s words were subtle, but it wasn’t hard to catch his real meaning—he didn’t take 鬼面, who’d been chasing after him all this time, seriously at all.

The two of them suddenly fell silent. Logan Sullivan glanced back at the lifeless Soulbound Lamp floating on the water’s surface, fished around in his pocket, pulled out a cigarette and lit it. His brows were still tightly furrowed as he said to Julian West and Holly Harlow, “We’re done here. Let’s go, time to work overtime and rush the report.”

Julian West rubbed his nose, forced to listen to his boss and the boss’s family member giving each other the cold shoulder, and felt awkward. He could only try his best to lighten the mood: “First day back at work and we’re already working overtime, huh? Dragon Head-raising Day is almost here, shouldn’t we get some kind of bonus?”

“Sure.” Logan Sullivan didn’t even lift his eyelids. “Twenty jin of monk meat for each person.”

Julian West: “……”

Then Julian West raised his hand and slapped himself on the face, put his palms together: “Amitabha, serves me right for running my mouth.”

Holly Harlow suddenly spoke up: “Chief Zhao, I need to stay a while.”

Logan Sullivan turned to glance at her.

“My fourth uncle is still here. It wouldn’t be right for me to leave with you…” Holly Harlow said.

“Mm,” Logan Sullivan thought for a moment. That did make sense, so he nodded. “Alright, just keep your distance and be careful.”

With that, he led Julian West away along the edge, quietly dealing with any reckless ghosts that lunged at them.

Holly Harlow watched their backs until they disappeared, seeing how smoothly the two worked together, slipping along the edge without drawing any attention. Only then did she feel a bit more at ease. She tentatively called out, “Soulwarden sir?”

A man’s voice answered from the void: “What is it?”

Holly Harlow: “……”

Then she jumped up. “What the hell, you’re still here?”

William Sherman was silent for a moment, then asked quietly, “Where should I go?”

Holly Harlow said incredulously, “Why aren’t you going with them?”

This time, William Sherman was silent for even longer.

Holly Harlow: “Soulwarden? Mr. Sherman? Hey, hey, can you hear me? Are you still there?”

“He probably… doesn’t want me to follow him?” William Sherman’s voice came from beneath the Soulbound Lamp. Holly Harlow couldn’t help but take a couple of steps closer, hearing him say, “He said, if I lied to him again, he’d turn against me.”

Holly Harlow was dumbfounded.

“You lied to him?” she asked, but before William Sherman could answer, Holly Harlow went on, “No, that’s not the point—the point is, you just believe whatever he says?”

William Sherman, hiding behind the Soulbound Lamp and not worried about being seen, let a faint silhouette show, looking at Holly Harlow in confusion.

Holly Harlow unceremoniously braced one hand against the stone wall and let out a heavy sigh: “To quote Chief Zhao, I’m not that smart anyway, I don’t get what you’re all up to, all these schemes and plots seem impressive— but are you sure someone as gullible as you could ever fool him? If you could, then he must really love you.”

William Sherman: “……”

“Logan Sullivan has said he’ll stew Darrin Grant a hundred times if not ninety-nine, but that dumb cat is still living the good life, getting fatter every day, isn’t he?” Holly Harlow had never imagined she’d one day be lecturing the Soulwarden like this, especially when the Soulwarden was her unbeatable love rival. Just thinking about it made her feel both sour and delighted, her feelings impossible to put into words.

“When I arrived, I saw you being taken away by 鬼面. The way he looked then, he really wanted to tear 鬼面 to pieces— I’ve followed him for so many years, I can always tell if he’s really angry or just pretending. Do you think I felt good about it?” Holly Harlow didn’t even know what she was thinking, she just blurted out her feelings, “Why is he mad at you, just because you lied to him? William Sherman, I really want to… never mind, I’d better not— it’s like, if you ran away from home and drove your mom crazy with worry, and when she found you, she gave you a couple of slaps. Would you really feel wronged?”

William Sherman looked at her with an indescribable expression.

Holly Harlow and he stared at each other for a moment, then she suddenly turned away and said woodenly, “Sorry, I forgot you don’t have a mom.”

William Sherman: “…It’s alright.”

Holly Harlow didn’t know how to respond to that. The two of them were instantly awkward. After a long while, William Sherman suddenly asked, “Do you… like him a lot?”

The question made Holly Harlow feel a lump in her chest. She answered gloomily, “Yeah.”

William Sherman thought for a moment. “Then why are you telling me all this?”

Holly Harlow rolled her eyes at him. “I just want you to stop making him unhappy.”

A fleeting look of confusion crossed William Sherman’s face. He seemed a little lost, his brows gently furrowed, the rippling light from the pool beneath the Soulbound Lamp reflected in his eyes. After who knows how long, Holly Harlow almost thought his soul had drifted away, when William Sherman suddenly snapped back and nodded to her.

“You’re right,” he said sincerely. “Thank you.”

With that, William Sherman stood up and faded from view. Holly Harlow heard his footsteps come to her side: “Miss Zhu, please hold out your hand.”

Holly Harlow, not knowing why, held out her hand. William Sherman placed a small twig, not even as long as her palm, in her palm. There were two tiny, tender green buds on it. Of course, it wasn’t heavy, but Holly Harlow inexplicably felt that this unremarkable twig was unusually weighty.

“This is…”

“This is a branch from the Highspire's Elderwood,” William Sherman said. “Since the beginning of the world, only Nüwa has ever cut a branch from the Primewood, planting it a thousand zhang beneath the Yellow Springs, where it became the present-day Virtue Tree. This is the second branch. Keep it safe.”

Holly Harlow staggered, almost dropping it, and hurriedly cupped it in both hands, holding it up before her face in awe, as if she wanted to enshrine it.

“When a branch from the Primewood reaches the gate of the Blighted Grounds, it becomes a dead tree, probably because our kind is naturally incompatible with it. I’ve been in charge of Highspire all these years, put in a lot of effort, but still couldn’t take good care of it. After thousands of years, it’s only grown these two buds. I’ve always felt a bit guilty.” William Sherman said, “Your fourth uncle might not be able to look after you. Stay away from them here, and if you run into danger, these two buds can save your life twice…”

William Sherman paused here. “If you don’t use them, when everything is finally settled, please help me find a beautiful mountain or river and plant it there.”

For some reason, Holly Harlow felt like he was making final arrangements, and couldn’t help but ask, “Where are you going?”

William Sherman: “I’m going after him.”

“Does he even need chasing?” Holly Harlow immediately set aside her own doubts, curled her lip, and said sourly, “Don’t be fooled by how smug he looked leaving. Now that he’s calmed down, he’s probably regretting it like crazy, definitely waiting for you. Don’t worry.”

The invisible William Sherman didn’t reply. Maybe he’d already left.

Holly Harlow was exactly right—Logan Sullivan hadn’t gone far at all. He’d just found a hidden spot below the entrance to the Yellow Springs and was pacing back and forth, littering the ground with cigarette butts.

This obvious sign of a midlife crisis made the ever-cautious Julian West keep his distance, squatting quietly to the side, peering through a telescope he’d somehow acquired to watch the battle raging in the distance.

When Logan Sullivan lit his twelfth cigarette of the day, a hand suddenly appeared out of nowhere, snatched the cigarette from his mouth, and stubbed it out.

Logan Sullivan was stunned for a moment. He turned his head and saw William Sherman standing there hesitantly, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start. After a while, William Sherman avoided his gaze and slowly lowered his head. He was covered in blood and filth, looking utterly miserable. His glasses were long gone, his hair a bit long in front, almost covering his eyes, making him look pitiful and aggrieved.

Logan Sullivan was silent for a long time, then finally let out a weary sigh and reached out his hand to him. “Come here.”

William Sherman pulled him into his arms.