After the ghost-hunting master descended the mountain, his fame spread throughout the capital.

The moment the words fell, a flash of blood and a faint golden light appeared simultaneously at the point where their palms were clasped together, as if some invisible bond had been deeply imprinted into their souls.

The tiny wound on his palm healed rapidly under the influence of spiritual energy, leaving only a faint, almost invisible mark.

Jiang Dusheng clearly felt Xie Jinchen's body sway again.

She quickly steadied him more firmly. "Now, can we go and rest?"

Xie Jinchen leaned most of his weight against her, his forehead lightly touching her temple, his voice carrying a triumphant smile:

"Since our lives are tied together, then... can I share a room with you tonight?"

"Can't!"

Huiming's voice, like a muffled thunderclap from nowhere, came abruptly from behind the shadows of the pillars.

He strolled out slowly, his hands behind his back, his usual playful expression gone, replaced by the air of a strict teacher.

His sharp gaze swept over the two people who were almost glued together, and he gave Xie Jinchen a particularly glare.

His eyes seemed to say, "You little brat, you dare to kidnap my disciple right after waking up from serious injuries!"

"Hmph!" Huiming snorted heavily, his white beard bristling with anger. "No betrothal gifts, no parental consent, not even a formal respectful greeting or permission from me as your master, and you want to live in the same house?"

"What do you take my disciple for? What do you take this Nanchan Temple for?"

Upon hearing this, Xie Jinchen did not back down. Instead, he slowly straightened up and looked at Huiming.

The faint smile on his face vanished, replaced by utmost respect and sincerity, his tone earnest:

"Master is right. I was inconsiderate and presumptuous."

He looked at Huiming, then glanced at Jiang Dusheng, who was slightly stunned, and slowly said:

"Once my injuries have healed and I can move freely again, I will do everything myself."

Upon hearing this, both Jiang Dusheng and Huiming's eyes widened.

Jiang Dusheng was surprised that they were suddenly talking about marriage.

Huiming was shocked by Xie Jinchen's shamelessness.

He nearly jumped up, pointing at Xie Jinchen, his finger trembling with anger, "Who's your master?! Don't call me that! When did this old monk ever take a cunning brat like you as a disciple?!"

He was furious, but his attention was diverted by Xie Jinchen's next words, "The betrothal gifts... are the betrothal gifts sent to the temple?! That's..."

He was speechless for a moment, feeling that something was wrong, but he couldn't lose his momentum.

Seeing this, Xie Jinchen immediately turned his head and leaned against Jiang Dusheng's shoulder, his voice growing weaker and more feeble:

"Jiang Dusheng, Master's voice is so loud, it's making my chest hurt and my head spin..."

Jiang Dusheng felt his body weight increase, as if he might really slip off at any moment.

Her heart tightened, and she looked at Huiming with a hint of reproach, her tone unconsciously carrying a protective undertone:

"Master, he just woke up. The evil aura has only just subsided, and his vital energy is severely depleted; he hasn't recovered yet. Why are you yelling at him?"

Huiming was practically fuming with rage. He tapped Jiang Dusheng's forehead with his finger, looking utterly heartbroken.

"Foolish disciple! You've read so many Buddhist scriptures and cultivated your mind for so many years, but where has it all gone?"

"That brat's current fragile, easily blown-away look is nine times out of ten an act! He's cunning! Can't you tell?! He's using all his tricks on you!"

As if to confirm Huiming's words, or as if to deliberately add fuel to the fire, Xie Jinchen turned his head away again and coughed more violently a few times.

He even raised his hand to cover his chest, his brows furrowed, looking as if he might collapse at any moment.

Seeing this, Jiang Dusheng no longer cared about distinguishing between truth and falsehood. He quickly patted the man's back gently while carefully supporting him, slowly moving towards his meditation room in the temple. He couldn't help but mutter under his breath, a hint of helplessness in his voice:

"Master, really... why are you taking this so seriously with a patient who just barely escaped death... it's already difficult enough for him to stand and talk right now..."

"you…!"

Huiming looked at his little apprentice, who was clearly bewitched by beauty, and felt a surge of disappointment and frustration. He felt a lump in his throat, unable to get up or down.

He took a few deep breaths to calm the urge to grab Xie Jinchen by the collar and shake him, and could only raise his voice to shout at their backs:

"Sheng'er, listen to me carefully! Move him to that empty meditation room next to yours. He's not allowed to share a room with you! Do you hear me?!"

Jiang Dusheng supported the weakened Xie Jinchen, his steps unwavering, his head never turning back, his voice carried on the wind:

"understood."

The last syllable was drawn out, making it unclear whether it was a genuine agreement or just a perfunctory response.

Huiming stood there, watching the two figures, supporting each other, disappear around the corner of the meditation room corridor. He was so angry that he puffed out his beard and glared, but in the end, he could only shake his head helplessly and mutter:

"Enough, enough. Children and grandchildren have their own blessings... no, it's more like disciples have their own debts! Out of sight, out of mind!"

Having said that, he flicked his sleeves and strode toward his meditation room, though his steps seemed rather huffy.

Jiang Dusheng ultimately didn't dare to actually help Xie Jinchen into his meditation room.

Instead, they settled the person in the empty meditation room next door.

Only a small oil lamp was lit inside, casting a dim, yellowish light.

Xie Jinchen lay on that simple bed, the bedding was a plain gray.

He still held Jiang Dusheng's wrist, his fingertips slightly cool.

"Jiang Dusheng," his voice was low and clear in the quiet room, sounding weak, "I have a headache."

Jiang Dusheng frowned, raised his hand and gently touched his forehead. It was slightly warm to the touch, and there was no abnormal high fever.

"You don't have a fever..." she said with some concern. "Could it be that there's still some lingering evil energy? Should I go and ask a master to come and take a look at you?"

Xie Jinchen slowly shook his head, his dark hair spread out on the pillow, making his face appear even paler.

He looked at Jiang Dusheng, "No need... just lie down with me for a while. Just for a little while."

Jiang Dusheng: "..."

She knew that this person was most likely using this as an excuse to play the victim and gain sympathy.

But when her gaze fell on his bloodless lips and saw the faint bluish shadows under his eyes, she couldn't bring herself to harden her heart.

She sighed silently and finally gave in.

Jiang Dusheng took off his shoes and socks and carefully lay down on the outside of the bed, deliberately leaving a gap in the middle.

"Then let me tell you a story," she said, turning to face him and speaking softly, "I'll leave once you fall asleep."

Xie Jinchen didn't respond, and turned to the side.

Under the dim light, the two lay face to face, their breathing audible.

He suddenly reached out, slipped his arm under her neck, and gently pulled her into his embrace.

Jiang Dusheng's body stiffened slightly, but he did not break free.

He rested his chin on the top of her head, remained silent for a moment, and then spoke softly, his voice exceptionally clear and earnest in the quiet night:

"Jiang Dusheng," he paused, as if choosing the most suitable words, "I forgot to ask just now, would you... marry me?"