Only I Cultivate

Feng Fan stood inside his apartment. It wasn't big or cozy, but it was enough. There was a bathroom, a bedroom, and a small kitchen directly connected to the bedroom.

"This brings back memories," he muttered, looking around his room.

In his past life, his parents had died when he was fourteen, and from then on, he had lived alone. This life seemed just as lonely, but now he was back in his seventeen-year-old body instead of being a middle-aged wizard.

Knowing there was no food waiting for him, he didn't bother checking. The old Feng Fan had planned to eat the food provided by the school, but thanks to Ma Chen, that was no longer an option.

For the poor, sleep was dinner.

With his body aching, he collapsed onto the bed and slept like a log.

Against his wishes, a certain silver-haired beauty appeared in his dreams tonight.

👻👻👻👻👻

A loud car horn woke up Feng Fan from his perverted dreams. A thin line of drool trailed from his mouth onto the bed, forming a small puddle.

"Damn it, who dares wake me up this early?" he muttered, reaching for the alarm clock beside his bed.

To his surprise, it was exactly 10 a.m., not a minute later.

The car horn blared again, making him even more annoyed. "I'm coming, hold on!"

He quickly stripped off his clothes, took a quick shower, and threw on a fresh set. After yesterday's events, his old clothes were drenched in sweat and torn.

When he stepped out of the house, he realized he had forgotten his straw hat. But just as he was about to turn back, his hand instinctively went to the top of his head—only to find the hat already there, resting snugly in place.

"Damn it," he muttered. "This thing is stuck to me."

Fifteen minutes after waking up, Feng Fan stepped out of his building. A black sedan was parked in front of the gate, and Mao Jiang stood beside it, arms crossed, his expression stern.

"Sir Feng, being late isn't the best way to start an amicable relationship. Weren't you the one who asked me to pick you up?"

Feng Fan walked straight to the car and got in without waiting for permission. "Sorry. As an apology, I'll let you treat me to breakfast. Let's go!"

Mao Jiang nearly rolled his eyes but held back his comment. 'This guy is barely a Hunter and already acting so eccentric.'

Feng Fan's stomach let out a loud grumble, making it clear he needed to eat. Before Mao Jiang could say anything, Feng Fan spoke up.

"Got anything to eat? That ghost yesterday stole my dinner."

Mao Jiang let out a wry smile. "There's a box of donuts next to you. Help yourself."

Spotting the box, Feng Fan grabbed a donut and took a bite. "Too much sugar. No wonder you've got such a big belly. But I guess it's better than nothing."

A vein twitched on Mao Jiang's forehead. 'Calm down, Mao Jiang. You've dealt with worse Hunters. You're a damn director… hold it together!'

"After the hospital, I'll get you a proper meal," Mao Jiang said, forcing a smile.

Feng Fan nodded, chewing. "You better. That's the least the government can do."

Mao Jiang decided not to entertain Feng Fan any further and remained silent until they arrived at the hospital.

At the hospital's front desk, he flashed his badge to the receptionist. "Excuse me, I'm with the Special Cases Unit. I'm here to see a patient from my department."

The receptionist gave him a polite smile. "Good morning, sir. She's in room F-104. Do you know the way?"

Mao Jiang nodded. "Yes, thank you."

With Feng Fan following beside him, they walked through the hospital corridors. At one point, they passed a section guarded by two security officers, who immediately saluted Mao Jiang.

"Director Mao!"

Mao Jiang gave them a brief nod and continued forward.

Feng Fan's curiosity got the better of him. "Why the heavy security?"

"This hospital wing is reserved for people contaminated by ghosts. Their wounds aren't like normal injuries and need special treatment."

Feng Fan raised an eyebrow. "I'm impressed you guys manage to sweep things under the rug so easily. As expected of the government."

Mao Jiang scoffed at the obvious jab. "You sure have a sharp mouth. Do you know why we don't let the general public know about ghosts?"

Feng Fan's interest was piqued. "Why?"

"There are many types of ghosts. Some grow stronger by feeding on fear and negative emotions. Imagine the kind of panic that would spread if everyone knew. We'd be handing them more power on a silver platter."

Feng Fan frowned, realizing the weight of the issue. "That… actually makes sense."

Before long, they reached room F-104. Mao Jiang knocked but got no response. After a brief pause, he pushed the door open.

Inside, a beautiful woman with long silver hair stood by the window, watching a small bird chirping on a tree branch.

She wore a black mask that covered her mouth and cheeks, concealing the ghost tattoo—her cursed mark.

Wanting to break the ice, Feng Fan blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Luo Li, do you enjoy watching birds trying to mate? Or… are you at that time of the month when you feel like mating?"

The temperature in the room dropped instantly.

Mao Jiang turned to Feng Fan, his expression frozen in shock. 'What kind of idiot says something like that?!'

Luo Li slowly turned to face him, her silver eyes colder than ice.

"Good morning, Director Mao." She completely ignored Feng Fan. "What is he doing here?"

Mao Jiang gave her a wry smile. "I'm wondering the same thing."

He turned to Feng Fan. "Care to clear up our confusion?"

Feng Fan met Luo Li's gaze, completely unfazed by his earlier remark. "I just felt like stopping by to see you and say thanks."

Luo Li blinked, caught off guard. "Thanks?"

"Yeah. If it weren't for you and the late Gao Shan—may Hades have his soul and keep him from coming back to haunt me—I'd be dead."

Luo Li stared at him, momentarily speechless. "You came all this way… just to thank me?"

Feng Fan nodded. "What else?"

Her eyes widened slightly, and for a brief moment, a faint blush dusted her cheeks—so subtle that neither Feng Fan nor Mao Jiang noticed.