Chapter Thirty-Nine: Brother Monkey, Brother Monkey, You’re Truly Remarkable

His wife's hand hovered in the air, somewhat stiff. For at that very moment, Chen Xi's body tensed up and, like a small boat tossed by the waves, she fainted dead away.

Du Fang couldn't help but smile. In truth, he knew quite well—what ill intent could a wife's hand possibly have? All she meant was to pat Chen Xi's shoulder, to give her a bit of encouragement. After all, any young woman brave enough to face her fears deserved to be cheered on.

Du Fang felt a hint of helplessness—he was realizing more and more that Chen Xi was truly prone to fainting. Left with no other choice, he instructed his little assistant to drag the unconscious Chen Xi aside and let her cool off.

The rest of the time, Du Fang turned his eager attention to his latest discovery. He hadn't expected it at all—his wife's hand could actually enhance his martial arts skills. That sensation, as if his hand were held and his spirit was floating away on a cloud, lingered with him long after.

Even when he withdrew from her touch, he found his combat experience continuing to grow, little by little. He glanced at his wife's hand, now resting quietly on his shoulder like a silent spider. Perhaps, he thought, he ought to find a chance to wring every bit of use from her hand.

So, from then on, Du Fang began to practice his martial arts under the guidance of his wife's hand. Martial arts, taught by his wife. The control of forbidden artifacts, instructed by his daughter. Du Fang could feel his strength steadily growing.

This feeling—this happiness—was overwhelming.

In that warm and blissful atmosphere, Du Fang immersed himself in his training. At one point, Chen Xi woke up, gritted her teeth, and insisted on continuing her training to overcome her fears. Du Fang agreed.

And so, she fainted again.

After fainting three or four more times, Chen Xi was ashen-faced and swore off any further training against fear—she needed a break.

The assistant, Su Xiaoyu, was diligent and reliable, staying in the training room throughout. She even ordered a luxurious lunch from a five-star hotel and had it delivered.

Never had Du Fang imagined that the most expensive lunch he would ever have would arrive as takeout.

"This tastes amazing. When I win the prize money from the invitational, I'll take Luoluo out for a meal just like this," Du Fang thought to himself.

…

As evening fell, training ended.

Du Fang politely declined his assistant's invitation to dinner. The assistant was unfazed by his refusal and insisted on driving him home, watching until Du Fang entered his building before speeding off, thoroughly satisfied.

Su Xiaoyu was settling nicely into her role as his assistant.

Du Fang took Luoluo by the hand and entered the elevator.

They soon reached the thirteenth floor. As the doors slid open, Du Fang was immediately greeted by an intoxicating aroma. He looked in the direction of the fragrance—it was coming from the apartment of the new neighbor who had just moved in today.

The new neighbor’s door was ajar.

Perhaps hearing the elevator, the gentle young man, dressed in comfortable homewear, stepped out.

“Back from work?” the young man asked with a smile.

“Thanks again for your help today,” Du Fang replied, unlocking his door. “We’re neighbors now, so it’s no trouble at all.”

Leaning against his doorframe, the young man grinned brightly. “You’re right about that.”

“Let me introduce myself. I’m Chen Hou, and I work as a manager at an amusement park.”

“Du Fang. Sophomore at Jiangling University, and an intern Dream Guide,” Du Fang replied, intending then to head inside.

But Chen Hou stopped him. “I just made some ginger duck—a specialty from back home. Would you like to try some?”

Du Fang hesitated, quickly waving his hands. “No, no, that’s all right.”

But Chen Hou was insistent. “Don’t be shy. Consider it a thank you for your help earlier.”

His enthusiasm made it hard for Du Fang to refuse. After much back and forth, Du Fang finally relented.

Chen Hou hurried back to the kitchen, returning with half a ginger duck in a clay pot.

“This is a regional specialty, slow-cooked for hours—the duck is tender, the skin silky, the aroma rich. You can eat the ginger too—it brings out the flavor and really whets the appetite!”

Du Fang took the pot, while Luoluo was already drooling with anticipation.

Catching Luoluo’s eager look, Du Fang decided not to refuse further. “Thanks, Brother Hou. Next time, dinner’s on me.”

Chen Hou waved him off, smiling as he returned to his apartment.

Holding the clay pot of ginger duck, Du Fang couldn’t help but feel a twinge of emotion.

“People say that neighbors in modern apartment buildings are cold and distant, but look at Brother Chen—so warm, so full of kindness!”

“Indeed, there is still true compassion in the world,” Du Fang thought, smiling as he led Luoluo inside.

…

Back in his apartment, Chen Hou's sincere, radiant smile vanished in an instant.

He turned, pressed himself to the door, and peered through the peephole, watching Du Fang carry the clay pot inside.

A slow, sly smile curled on his lips.

He unclipped a monkey mask from his belt and placed it over his face.

“What a naïve ‘Fallen One’s Envoy’… Looks like this credit will be all mine,” Chen Hou chuckled softly.

“There’s Dreamlock Serum, refined by the organization, inside that ginger duck. Even if you’re a Fallen One’s Envoy, as long as you eat a single bite of meat, you’re bound to fall into a deep sleep!”

“Then, I’ll just bring you back to the organization and the mission will be complete.”

“What a simple task—yet that woman, Vermilion Bird, keeps dragging her feet. Who knows what she’s up to.”

Chen Hou scoffed.

He would never try to enter another’s dreams—not when it came to a Fallen One’s Envoy. He knew well that their dreams were as dangerous as a grade-seven Calamity of Nightmares, perhaps worse depending on their level of awakening. If their awakening was high enough, their dreams could reach grade nine… or even the level of a City-Wiping Calamity.

So to be safe, he’d used Dreamlock Serum to seal Du Fang’s consciousness, preventing him from dreaming and ensuring the Fallen One’s Envoy’s dreamworld wouldn’t envelop him.

All he had to do was take the sleeping Du Fang away. What happened next would be the organization’s concern, not his.

This was what Chen Hou could never understand about Lin Liuli. She always had to complicate things that could be solved with ease.

Now that it was confirmed Du Fang was a Fallen One’s Envoy and that he harbored a “Fallen One” in his dreams, they should have acted immediately and taken him to the organization. Whether the organization chose to recruit or extract the Fallen One was irrelevant.

“Indecisive women… never accomplish anything!” he muttered. “If not for her physique, what right would Lin Liuli have to merge with a minor divine core or to hold her current position?”

Chen Hou scoffed, clearly unimpressed by Lin Liuli.

He glanced at his watch and began to count down the minutes.

…

Inside his apartment, Du Fang placed the steaming, fragrant half duck on the table.

Luoluo had already perched herself on a chair, her pink pig plushie, Qiqi, tossed aside on the sofa. Qiqi tried to waddle over for a taste, but one look from Luoluo sent him slumping sadly back onto the couch, drooling in despair.

The aroma of the ginger duck was truly mouthwatering.

Du Fang’s appetite was thoroughly awakened. Already a little hungry, he didn’t stand on ceremony. He tore off a drumstick—the skin smooth and tender, coming away at the gentlest pull, the meat meltingly soft.

Luoluo chomped on the drumstick, delighted. Du Fang twisted off a wing, savoring the way the skin slid into his mouth, the rich flavor blossoming on his tongue.

“Delicious!” Du Fang’s eyes lit up.

Just one bite, and he felt as if his soul had been soothed. This duck was divine.

“The ginger duck I usually eat can’t compare—is this the real, authentic version?” he wondered.

“I’ll have to ask Brother Hou where to buy it and order a few more. This duck is perfect with rice,” he muttered to himself.

But as he ate, Du Fang suddenly felt his eyelids grow heavy. Under Luoluo’s startled gaze, his head dropped forward onto the table like a felled tree.

His wife’s hand, which had been quietly resting on his shoulder, darted out, catching his head and gently laying it on the table.

At that moment, a low chuckle sounded from outside the door, followed by an exuberant, theatrical singing voice:

“Monkey King, oh Monkey King, you’re truly something, not even the Five Elements Mountain can hold you down…”

Click.

There was a crisp sound as the door was pushed open.

Chen Hou, half-masked as the Monkey King, humming his tune, strode into Du Fang’s apartment.

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