Moonlit Reunion

Taoist Priest Shuangjiang stood beside Wu Zhen with mixed emotions, following his junior uncle's instructions to watch over her. However, there was actually nothing to watch over. Ever since his junior uncle had taken action, the half-swallowed Pestilence God had been firmly restrained at the periphery by him, unable to extend even the slightest tendril toward them. Thus, they were perfectly safe, left to quietly observe from the sidelines.

Huzhu had also retreated, standing to the side with a hand pressed against her slightly aching chest, her gaze fixed strangely on Mei Zhuyu in the distance. As Wu Zhen's deputy, she naturally knew Mei Zhuyu—the "Cat Official's man"—and had nearly been sent by him to the wardens under the patrol soldiers' watch before.

She never would have imagined that Mei Jia Dalang, who seemed no different from an ordinary man, was actually such a formidable Taoist. The brilliant spiritual light radiating from him made it clear that she had misjudged him—this was the epitome of returning to simplicity, his aura so perfectly concealed that it was undetectable.

Huzhu couldn't help but glance at her own Cat Official. If she hadn’t noticed, that was one thing, but the Cat Official, who had spent days and nights with him and even shared a bed, hadn’t noticed either. Truly, love blinds the eyes—even a clever Cat Official could turn into a foolish cat.

As for Wu Zhen, seeing her husband enveloped in pure spiritual energy, she relaxed from her earlier tension and no longer thought of going to assist. Instead, she sat cross-legged on the rooftop, calmly taking out a handkerchief to wipe the blood from the corner of her mouth.

She had used too much Crimson Lightning earlier, causing internal injuries that led to the bleeding, but the issue wasn’t too serious—at least not as severe as the residual Pestilence Qi she had swallowed.

As she wiped her mouth, her gaze lingered on Mei Zhuyu, who was wielding his sword midair. Truthfully, she was still somewhat stunned. How had her husband suddenly transformed from an ordinary man into a Taoist? And such a powerful one at that. His mastery of spiritual talismans far surpassed any other Taoist she had encountered.

She had seen Shuangjiang use similar talismans before, but the priest had taken considerable time to draw just one and could only manage three before exhausting his strength. Yet her husband had already conjured sixteen, layering them across half the sky without showing the slightest sign of spiritual depletion.

While drawing talismans, he also wielded his sword. Wu Zhen had only ever seen others summon White Lightning through Taoist sword techniques, but her husband summoned Violet Lightning—something she had only heard of but never witnessed. This Violet Lightning was far more potent than ordinary White Lightning, the most effective method for vanquishing evil.

Watching as the Pestilence God, which she had painstakingly weakened by half, was now bound by Mei Zhuyu’s talismans and struck by Violet Lightning, disappearing bit by bit, Wu Zhen clicked her tongue in amazement. Had she known her husband was this formidable, she wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of swallowing the Pestilence Qi—that foul-tasting substance would still require some suffering to expel later.

While the three spectators each had their own thoughts, Mei Zhuyu was far simpler in his approach. When dealing with evil, he never wasted words or hesitated—his strikes were decisive, opting for the most direct and swift methods. And because of the blood Wu Zhen had coughed up earlier, the lingering heat on his hand burned fiercely, fueling his fury and making his attacks even more ruthless.The Plague God, in essence, was nothing more than a chaotic amalgamation of filth and malevolence. Wu Zhen, being one of the non-human entities, though exceptionally capable, was not as adept at handling such things as Mei Zhuyu. The Daoist arts Mei Zhuyu practiced were righteous, yang, and fiercely potent—perfect for suppressing such evils. Thus, the already severely wounded Plague God shrank further under his wrath, eventually melting like thin ice under sunlight into a pool of murky, foul water.

Though this foul water was not as harmful as the Plague God itself, if it were to merge with the clouds and fall as rain, it could still spread disease among many humans and animals.

Mei Zhuyu used his Peach Wood Sword to cut his palm. Mixing his own blood with the blood Wu Zhen had earlier smeared on his hand, he inscribed a blood talisman to temporarily seal the pool of vile liquid.

Having done this, he flicked his sleeve and descended back to the top of the city gate tower, walking toward Wu Zhen.

As he passed Huzhu, she instinctively shrank back, as if afraid of being injured by the lingering spiritual energy and remnants of purple lightning still radiating from him. Noticing this, Mei Zhuyu slowed his steps and made an effort to rein in the excess spiritual energy. By the time he reached Wu Zhen, he had returned to his usual, unremarkable self.

Were it not for the bloodstained Peach Wood Sword still in his hand, Wu Zhen might have thought she had dreamed it all.

Her husband had suddenly revealed a new identity. As he approached, Wu Zhen hadn’t yet figured out how to face him. Yet he seemed to have adjusted just fine, his demeanor no different from before as he knelt before her with slight concern and asked, "Are you alright? Where are you hurt?"

Shuangjiang, who had just barely regained his composure, turned his face away at this sight, as if unable to bear it, struggling to control his expression.

Wu Zhen, her hand held by her husband, met his dark eyes brimming with worry and care—and suddenly laughed.

She coughed lightly and asked, "You’re Shuangjiang’s martial uncle? A disciple of Changxi Temple?"

Mei Zhuyu glanced at Shuangjiang and nodded. "Yes, though I am no longer a disciple of Changxi Temple."

He spoke calmly, as if it didn’t matter, but Wu Zhen could tell his emotions weren’t as placid as they seemed. So she didn’t press further. Instead, she turned the conversation back to herself. "Do you know my identity?"

This time, Mei Zhuyu paused before answering. "I just learned of it."

Wu Zhen: "I’m the Cat Official of the Demon Market. What do you think about that?" Though she governed the demons of Chang’an and was different from ordinary monsters, some Daoist practitioners still disdained dealing with her kind.

Mei Zhuyu lowered his gaze and leaned in to pick her up. "I have no thoughts on it. Let’s go back first and tend to your injuries. Delaying any longer won’t do."

As he lifted her into his arms and leaped off the city gate tower, Wu Zhen heard him say softly, "To me, you’ve only ever had one identity. The rest… doesn’t matter."

The hands holding her were broad and steady, his voice light and gentle, as if afraid of startling her—a stark contrast to the ruthless figure who had just slaughtered the Plague God with talismans and sword in hand. For some reason, Wu Zhen’s heart stirred, and she suddenly recalled the calligraphy she had seen earlier, its fierce, unyielding aura. Only now did she truly understand it.

"Husband."

"Hmm?"

"You were so dashing just now." Wu Zhen grinned and playfully scratched his chin.Mei Zhuyu quickly glanced down at her, then picked up his pace, appearing less composed than before. "No, I was just cleaning up after you."

"No need to be modest. If I say you're amazing, then you are. If it weren't for you, I’d have been half-dead from dealing with the Plague God today. As expected of my husband—you never fail to surprise me."

Taoist Shuangjiang, who had silently followed like an invisible bystander: ...Why must my hearing be so sharp?!

And then, noticing his little martial uncle blushing: ...And why must my eyesight be so sharp too?!

He quietly slowed his steps, putting more distance between himself and the pair ahead. He had pieced together the complicated situation: his stern and unyielding little martial uncle was married, his wife was the Cat Official, neither had known the other’s identity until now, and they were taking it remarkably well—even flirting.

Moreover, his little martial uncle was at a disadvantage—in every possible way. For the first time in his life, Shuangjiang experienced the same frustration his little martial uncle had often directed at them—disappointment at his lack of backbone.

Little Martial Uncle! Weren’t you supposed to be tough?! When have you ever shown weakness to anyone? Why are you so soft in front of a woman?! Are you even the real Little Martial Uncle?!

"Shuangjiang, keep up."

Hearing his little martial uncle’s voice ahead, Shuangjiang—who had been silently ranting—instantly transformed into an obedient junior. "Yes, Little Martial Uncle."

——

On her way back to Chang’an with Lingxiao, Liu Taizhen had expected to find her pitiful friend waiting to be rescued. To her surprise, by the time they reached the city gates, the crowd had already dispersed. Only Huzhu remained, guarding a pool of foul water suppressed by spirit talismans while applying makeup with a small mirror.

She sat with one leg crossed, her embroidered shoes stained with blood, muttering to herself as she touched up her face. "With injuries making me this pale, I don’t look good at all. No amount of powder can replicate that natural rosy glow."

Lingxiao: What’s going on?

Liu Taizhen was equally confused and stepped forward to ask.

Huzhu: "The Cat Official’s husband arrived just in time to save the day. The two of them took down the Plague God together and went home arm in arm—probably whispering sweet nothings to each other right now."

Liu Taizhen raised an eyebrow. "The Mei family’s son? He’s not an ordinary man?"

Huzhu sighed. "A Taoist, and from that formidable Changxi Temple no less."

Liu Taizhen: "I thought Taoists from Changxi Temple weren’t allowed to marry."

Huzhu shrugged. "Who knows? But that’s not important. Right now, the urgent matter is for you, Snake Lord, to clean up this mess and then check on the Cat Official—she swallowed half of the Pestilence Qi."

Liu Taizhen immediately looked exasperated. "I’ve told her countless times not to go around swallowing things."

Huzhu chuckled. "Since when has the Cat Official ever listened to anyone?"

Liu Taizhen scoffed. "Then let her learn her lesson. Maybe next time she’ll think twice before ignoring warnings." With that, she began purifying the foul water on the ground. As a snake by nature, she was perfectly suited for the task.

Huzhu hadn’t expected her to actually refuse to help and pressed in disbelief, "Snake Lord, are you really not going to intervene this time?"Liu Taizhen didn't even look up, only pausing briefly in her movements. Her voice was cool and detached, "Now she has someone to look after her."

No longer would she need to worry about her or tidy up after her every affair.

Huzhu suddenly patted her shoulder, then turned and left without another word.

Meanwhile, at the Mei residence, Mei Zhuyu stared blankly at the familiar tabby cat sprawled on the bed, looking even more stunned than when he had first discovered Wu Zhen was the Cat Official.

"Why are you staring at me like I'm an idiot? I swallowed too much Pestilence Qi—this form makes it easier to bear," the tabby cat muttered weakly, lying on Mei Zhuyu's usual pillow while speaking human words.

Mei Zhuyu: "...So all those times before, the cats I ran into were you?"

"Well, wasn't it obvious?" Wu Zhen replied matter-of-factly.

Mei Zhuyu: "..."