Dr. Sun is in her late thirties, with fine lines around her eyes that blend the steady demeanor of both a doctor and an academic. Her smile is warm and approachable.
Seeing Zhang Yuanqing’s wide-eyed surprise, she smiled and said:
“Preferences are the most revealing of one's mental state—how someone's personality often shows up in their habits. As for sexual orientation and personal values, they carry more weight than mere hobbies.
You don’t need to feel embarrassed. Physicians have hearts like parents; I’ve asked patients about deeply shameful matters, even heard them share things they find hard to confess. In our eyes, all beings are equal.”
In your eyes, people are just piles of meaningless flesh and blood… Zhang Yuanqing silently grumbled, recalling how his aunt had enthusiastically described the process of dissecting cadavers when she was studying medicine.
He almost choked on the vivid details, while his aunt remained calm as a seasoned dog.
If this were due to the influence of props or skills, Zhang Yuanqing could easily transfer it onto Xiao Doushi—yet a scout who can see through people’s souls fundamentally possesses lie-detection ability rather than applying any force toward them.
Therefore, the Spirit Servant is powerless.
Zhang Yuanqing patiently answered: “I do watch action films regularly—after all, every adult has seen some. But now it's harder to find films. To broaden my viewing channels, I’ve joined many gaming groups.”
Dr. Sun crossed her arms and nodded: “That’s completely normal—I was very enthusiastic about these things when I was younger.”
“Oh? So now it’s because of your age?” Zhang Yuanqing smiled.
“No,” Dr. Sun replied with a smile. “Now I’m married to someone beautiful, well-built—someone I truly love.”
…Zhang Yuanqing felt he had been gently mocked back.
He continued answering the follow-up questions:
“I usually don’t watch romantic dramas—the kind that pair up couples—but rather prefer films from 'The Korean Country' and those made by people with a good standard of living. Compared to traditional romances, these directors genuinely understand what resonates with viewers—just by seeing the film title, you can feel it hit your spot. As for actresses’ age, there’s no strict requirement beyond being adults.”
Dr. Sun nodded slowly: “All stages of women appreciate this—it makes sense.”
“Exactly,” Zhang Yuanqing said confidently, regaining his outgoing nature. “I always fast-forward through films—how could someone be a person if they don’t? During movie screenings, I generally don’t reach out to my girlfriends; it’s usually the films that initiate contact. In fact, I’m often resistant.”
Dr. Sun was surprised: “The ones you mean?”
“Well,” Zhang Yuanqing raised his hand and said honestly, “I actually don’t have any girlfriends.”
Dr. Sun's eyes lit up with sudden interest—she immediately asked: “Why aren’t you in a relationship? You seem quite reserved.”
Zhang Yuanqing rubbed his temples: “In the past, I always found girls to be bothersome—they didn’t deserve my time or effort.”
“And now?”
“Now I’ve met several who were worth investing in—but that feeling has faded over time.”
"Why?"
"...”
"Just a moment ago," Zhang Yuanqing said, "I mentioned that all beings are equal. Not only am I a steward, but also a trained psychologist—every answer I give doesn’t stir any unusual emotions in me, nor do I look at you differently."
“I’ve come to realize perhaps even pigs might be better than these women.”
"...” Dr. Sun was completely stunned by this response.
How could the esteemed Yuan Shi Tian Zun, a top-tier talent, have such a fundamentally distorted sexual preference? Was it childhood experiences of sexual trauma? The betrayal of his first love? Or some eccentric habits from either parent?
At once, Dr. Sun’s eyes expressed both compassion and caution.
This was undoubtedly a psychological anomaly—something that posed a significant risk.
Over years of practice, such a truly unusual patient was indeed rare.
“Hmm!” Zhang Yuanqing exclaimed with growing frustration: “You still say you won’t look at me differently.”
Dr. Sun felt slightly embarrassed.
Zhang Yuanqing shrugged: “This is actually the cost of using props—since I stopped relying on that particular one, my orientation has gradually returned. And lately, I’ve been actively flirting with women in my team, trying to reignite my own sense of masculine energy.”
Dr. Sun sighed and said: “Good. Let’s move on to your family situation—no need to mention names or addresses, nor even your profession—just a brief overview will suffice.”
“I live with my grandfather and grandmother. I also have an aunt. My uncle, his wife, and my cousin live across the way. My father passed away early. Since then, my mother has stayed single because she didn’t want to change her lifestyle after remarriage, or worry about how a new stepfather might treat me. So she’s raised me on her own—by sending me off to live with my grandparents and focusing on earning money elsewhere. When I needed to meet with her for parent-teacher conferences, she often said, ‘Go see Uncle instead’—she was busy working and needed income…”
Dr. Sun listened carefully before suddenly asking: “Do you resent her?”
“No,” Zhang Yuanqing replied.
“You’re lying.”
“…Actually, I don’t resent her at all—but I do have some resentment.”
Only then did Dr. Sun nod and ask the next question: “Did you ever engage in behaviors that involved harming animals when you were a child?”
“Yes," he said. "I often stand by the alley entrance, leave a piece of meat I no longer like, and watch ants gather in groups to carry it—then, just before they succeed, I flush them all away with urine. I’ve also done this for grasshoppers, frogs, and dragonflies.”
“And what about cats and dogs?”
“None of those.”
Dr. Sun studied him for a few seconds, then moved into the final segment:
“When I finish these questions, our conversation ends. Yuan Shi Tian Zun—how do you view the evil organizations?”
Zhang Yuanqing paused before responding: “I harbor both disdain and compassion.”
Dr. Sun’s eyebrows lifted sharply: “Compassion?”
Zhang Yuanqing nodded:
“I am a Night Wandering Deity, having witnessed many of their pasts. Most of them have developed distorted personalities during childhood—some later became disillusioned with society due to widespread injustice, eventually falling into crime. A philosopher once said that for every demon born in humanity, there are countless others surrounding him.
These evil organizations represent the individuals who were born as demons—while the people who pressured them into this path are themselves hidden demons. I believe every sin is fueled by human karma itself. With today’s advanced networks, perhaps the emergence of these demons isn’t just due to pressure from immediate surroundings—but also stems from demons across the nation and beyond.
Therefore, I feel compassion for them—yet that doesn't stop me from cleansing their sins whenever I encounter them.”
Dr. Sun sat in thoughtful silence.
After a while, he said:
“You’re clearly someone who thinks deeply—I’ve met many newcomers to the Spirit Realm, whose views on evil organizations are simple and consistent—they see them as criminals, reflections of human decay, sources of danger that must be eradicated.
Of course, this is accurate—but few people take time to reflect on the origins of such organizations, and draw meaningful insights from it.”
Zhang Yuanqing smiled: “Perhaps they aren’t incapable of thinking—just unwilling to do so.”
He began thinking about these issues because he had personally encountered an evil organization that struggled with being a devoted father. Additionally, as a Night Wandering Deity, after conducting spiritual inquiries and absorbing the memories of spirits, he felt deeply immersed in their experiences.
After all, human joys and sorrows are not always shared—what may seem like comedy to others becomes meaningful only when one truly shares in it.
It is precisely this role—as a Night Wandering Deity—that has given Zhang Yuanqing the opportunity to think deeply about such matters.
“My questions are now complete!” Dr. Sun smiled warmly and said, “Thank you for your cooperation—you may now leave.”
After Zhang Yuanqing exited and closed the door of the consultation room, Dr. Sun moved her chair using the wheels beneath it, then positioned herself in front of the computer screen. First, she checked off the relevant options under Yuan Shi Tian Zun’s mental evaluation:
“Mental state is normal—strong sense of justice. Likely influenced by family dynamics; habitually masks inner solitude and depth with an outwardly open and enthusiastic presence. A true idealist—currently not recommended for any particularly significant positions.”
Idealists tend to uphold internal justice rather than formal systems.
In simpler terms, when faced with procedural versus result-based justice, such individuals lean toward the latter.
Result-based justice is easier to resonate with most people—but for enforcers, procedural fairness remains paramount.
…
Zhang Yuanqing returned to the second-floor waiting area. By then, most of the participants in the large health check-up had already left.
Only a few late arrivals from Team Two remained standing in line.
Li Dongze sat on a public bench, holding his walking stick and said with a smile:
“I can see from your expression that Dr. Sun’s questions were quite unrefined.”
Zhang Yuanqing shrugged and smiled slightly:
“He actually asked about how often I watch action films and which female actors I prefer—why didn’t you tell me earlier that psychologists would raise such pointed questions?”
After speaking, he noticed the team members from Team Two all turning to him with focused attention.
His heart skipped a beat: “Are these not standard questions?”
“Not at all!” they confirmed.
“Heaven help me! Can I retract what I just said?” Zhang Yuanqing thought as he suddenly realized: “It must be that they saw my youthful appearance and commanding presence—so they wanted to test me with more pointed questions. Oh, well—I’m glad I wasn’t embarrassed. Laughter follows!”
“True to your character,” the Team Two members thought proudly.
Guan Ya eagerly asked: “So what did you say?”
Zhang Yuanqing looked at her and replied: “I said I don’t watch films much—my favorite role is Guan Gong.”
Guan Ya nodded slowly: “….”
Zhang Yuanqing sat beside the elderly steward, quietly waiting.
He leaned against the chair back, closed his eyes, and reflected deeply.
The Tiger Emblem is a prop of high rank—a crucial one. It’s practically impossible to feign authenticity before it; otherwise, Master Wuhen wouldn’t have responded as he did.
This large health check-up has specifically summoned the Tiger Emblem with the aim of identifying officials from the Songhai Division who have been bought over or controlled by the Night Rose and Evil Organizations.
Therefore, the questions that will come up next are undoubtedly centered on these two groups.
Yet I am not connected to either one—only having brief interactions with figures like Xiao Yuan and Wuhen, who are outliers within their evil organizations. And even those were accidental—Shi Lingxi can vouch for me as a witness.
As an A-Level Honoree, such minor associations would result in at most accountability or warnings—not any serious issues—at all, given that Fu Qingyang is my superior.
Regarding the matter of the heir to the King of the Tiger Deities—the investigation primarily lies with the Department of the First Gate—while the Five Elements Alliance shows little interest and likely won’t bring it up.
After quietly reviewing everything, Zhang Yuanqing concluded that there was no serious concern.
About thirty minutes later, Team Two members completed their tests one after another. When Wang Tai finished, Zhang Yuanqing walked confidently toward the end of the corridor to the consultation room.
The consultation room is spacious in size yet simple in layout—by a window stands an office desk where sits Fu Qingyang, dressed in white formal wear with a stylish ponytail.
A triangular camera is mounted, its lens focused on the desk.
“Please take a seat—you’re the last one,” Fu Qingyang said with a gesture.
Zhang Yuanqing nodded and sat down.
Fu Qingyang reached out toward empty space, then grasped a bronze tiger figure—about palm-sized—and held it high so that its head, back, and tail formed a smooth, flowing curve. It roared powerfully.
“Ah!” Zhang Yuanqing heard the deep, cleansing roar echoing through his mind. His pupils widened as he saw within his inner awareness—a long-bodied, majestic white tiger lying gracefully on its side—majestic in presence, eyes sternly watchful.
An unprecedented sense of pressure and fear washed over him.
His face grew pale; his hands trembled; his body shook uncontrollably.
Was this truly a high-level rule prop? He now felt his very soul trembling—as if standing at the edge of a deep chasm.
Fu Qingyang held the tiger emblem with steady authority—his presence radiating like that of a general commanding an army—and slowly said:
“Yuan Shi, are you perhaps someone in the hidden network behind the Night Rose?”
As soon as he finished speaking, Zhang Yuanqing “saw” the white tiger in his inner world scrutinizing him—so intense was its gaze that it seemed ready to leap forth and tear him into fragments if only he lied.
His lips trembled softly: “No…”
Fu Qingyang waited a few seconds, noting no signs of disturbance. Then nodded gently and asked his second question:
“Have you ever had private interactions with members of the evil organizations?”
…Upon hearing the question, Zhang Yuanqing wanted to curse under his breath; reason told him he should conceal the truth, but instinct surged ahead, and under the steady gaze of the Leopard Tiger, he revealed it plainly:
“Yes.”
Fu Qingyang’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“But—though—I think I ought to explain,” said Zhang Yuanqing, his voice trembling as though a traveler trudging through a wind-blown wilderness.
Fu Qingyang nodded gently.
At once, he recounted the gradual development of their relationship—the meeting with the person who had become not only a father figure but also entrusted with delivering messages—though he deliberately omitted the address of Wuhu Hotel.
“The circumstances are as follows: Xie Lingxi can vouch for this. Moreover, I have had limited interaction with them.”
All this was true, though he gently reframed their lack of subsequent contact as merely “limited engagement.”
Under the weight of the item’s pressure, Zhang Yuanqing could barely speak; yet, precision in wording—something beyond the scope of a Prop’s capabilities—was not an issue so long as Fu Qingyang didn’t press too hard. With just a little grace, he believed this matter would pass without significant repercussions.
Fu Qingyang offered a cold, measured assessment:
“This matter will be relayed to the person named Person; as for his response, you must simply wait and see.”
The tone was not entirely kind, yet it was concise and dismissive.
“Now, my final question—it was entrusted to me by Taiyi Gate.” Fu Qingyang adjusted his seat posture and said, “Are you a descendant of the Demon King?”
Zhang Yuanqing’s face turned as pale as paper.
…