“Heading back already?” Outside Gusu, Tang Buqi accompanied Zhao Changhe all the way to the docks. Watching him board the ship, he asked, “I heard that you can teleport and appear anywhere at will. If you’re returning to the capital, why bother with a ferry?”0

The vessel belonged to the Demon Suppression Bureau’s fleet—a convoy of massive ships transporting scores of apprehended demonic cultists back to the capital. Cui Yuanyang and Ling Ruoyu were already aboard.0

It made sense for the Demon Suppression Bureau to ferry prisoners this way. What Tang Buqi found puzzling was that Zhao Changhe, Lady Three, and Huangfu Qing were hitching a ride with them. If it had been the Zhao Changhe from before, feigning weakness while sending a disciple south under the guise of needing a ferry, perhaps it would be understandable. But now that his identity was out in the open, did they really need to travel this way?0

Zhao Changhe cast a furtive glance at Lady Three and Huangfu Qing sharing drinks at the prow, then cleared his throat awkwardly. “After a thirty-year dream, I’ve realized one truth: everything...0