It is easy to meet the King of Hell, but hard to deal with his little devils; three or five strokes on the inkstone.

"Name?"

"Hun Lan!"

"Age?"

"Thirty-six million, five hundred fourteen thousand, two hundred eighty-eight years old!"

"Good, this year you're eight."

"The hell I'm eight?!"

"Shut your mouth! First warning—do you want a taste of the shock baton or not?"

"You son of a—OW OW OW~"

"Why make things hard for yourself? Next question—cultivation realm?"

"...I’m at the Third Layer of the Taiyi Realm!"

"What?"

Chen Huaigeng froze for a moment, then pulled out an advanced realm reference chart with some uncertainty.

Third Layer of Taiyi—six thousand divine kingdoms, a supreme-grade talent!

Damn… As expected of the Venerable One, recruiting an immortal heavyweight like this to suppress variables!

"Alright, Hun Lan, listen carefully. You’re eight years old, born in Tiedan Village, Yusui Town, Seven Star Pass by the East Sea. Died young, but your soul didn’t return to the underworld, your spirit didn’t enter reincarnation—temporarily stored in the Treasury Department’s Treasure Vault."

Chen Huaigeng quickly made arrangements. A supreme-grade talent was far too precious; he couldn’t decide Hun Lan’s fate, nor could the entire Bureau of Reincarnation and Fate handle such a big shot. The only option was to dump him in the Treasury Department’s vault—anyone who wanted to use him would have to file a request.

"Next!"

"Wait, wait!" Hun Lan still had something to say. "Hey, boss, can I ask a question?"

Hearing this, Chen Huaigeng’s lips twitched as he struggled to suppress a smirk, but he still replied humbly, "I’m just a lowly intern, not any kind of boss. What’s your question?"

"Pfft, acting all high and mighty—thought you were some bigshot. Turns out you’re just a measly intern? Then why the hell should I bother asking? Later!" Hun Lan scoffed, shooting him a disdainful side-eye before strutting off to his assigned spot.

Chen Huaigeng’s eye twitched, but his expression remained blank. He quietly added a line to Hun Lan’s pre-edited virtual fate profile:

[This supreme-grade talent exhibits questionable conduct and poor virtue. Recommended for deployment to the Bureau of Marriage and Fate.]

Ever heard the saying, "The King of Hell is easy to meet, but his underlings are the real trouble"?

If Hun Lan had yapped like this in front of Chen Yi, he’d have just gotten slapped twice and been done with it. But offending a mere intern? Oh, he was in for a world of suffering!

Sure, the Bureau of Marriage and Fate had lost its biggest troublemaker, Bai Yujing, but old habits die hard. They’d toned it down, sure, but their essence remained unchanged—still packed with talent and still experts at twisting variables with the most brutal efficiency, ensuring potential disasters withered before they could bloom.

Take one infamous case: A monstrously gifted prodigy, scarred by childhood tragedy, had sunk into darkness—until a single ray of warmth saved him at his lowest point.

But fate decreed that light would die young. Just as the prodigy opened his heart, turned from evil, and purified his dao heart—on the verge of forming his nascent soul—that very light perished before his eyes, struck down by karmic backlash after an act of kindness.

And just like that, everything shattered.

When a celestial inspector discovered this variable, he knew: The disaster had begun. A Demon Sovereign would rise, and no force could suppress it. Blood would pave his path to power.

This was a calamity that could only be quelled with lives.

But the Bureau of Marriage and Fate? They had other ideas.

"If love rises with the wind, then let the gale blow—scatter the chaos, scatter the restless hearts!"

Back then, no celestial official believed in them. Yet somehow, they pulled it off.

Those bastards drew lots, picked a scapegoat to bear the karma, then forcibly tied a "quality expendable" from the Divine Land to the prodigy with a red string of fate.

A sin. An absolute sin.

Just thinking about it feels blasphemous.

Since no woman could replace the prodigy’s lost love, the Bureau took a different approach—they made him fall for a man instead.

And just like that, the variable twisted, the calamity dissolved.

The only victim? That corrupt official from the Divine Land, nearly reformed, now forced onto a shameful path of "compensatory affection" by the Bureau’s meddling.

So don’t underestimate Chen Huaigeng’s little footnote—Hun Lan would soon learn what "good fruits" really tasted like.

"Next!"

Meanwhile.

Chen Yi couldn’t help but reassess the intern.

Bold. Very bold.

Youthful ambition thirsting for merit—no opportunity left unseized.

But he wasn’t wrong.

Deploying celestial talents required discretion. A boulder dropped into a lake would cause chaos; slow digestion was the wiser path.

That’s why Chen Yi had secretly funneled these talents to the Bureau of Reincarnation and Fate.

Chen Huaigeng just happened to be in the right place. Had he followed protocol and reported the anomaly, his superiors would’ve grasped Chen Yi’s intent—after all, those who kept their seats in this bureaucracy weren’t fools.

But Chen Huaigeng wasn’t one for rules. When Lady Fate passed by, his eyes gleamed—he seized her fluttering hem without hesitation.

The man craved advancement too much.

"Fine. The outcome’s correct, but the method’s flawed. No punishment would set a bad precedent—imagine if everyone acted this recklessly."

"Perfect timing—the Western Expedition of the Heavenly Mandate Calamity Squad still lacks a scribe. Demote him there, then let the old man give him a nudge later."

Chen Yi’s gaze deepened as a script took shape in his mind.

"Yi-ge, you good? I’m… not feeling great."

The Little Golden Dragon shuffled over, body swollen, eyes brimming with resentment.

No one knew what he’d endured.

Every crevice pried open, his sea of consciousness flooded with pure primordial lightning—who could understand his pain?

He was seething.

Chen Yi glanced sideways. "Want an official post?"

"Uh… Can I say no?" The Little Golden Dragon waffled, too cowardly to outright refuse.

"Really don’t want it?" Chen Yi’s voice was calm. "You can refuse. But let me clarify—this job’s light work. Basically a vacation: tour the myriad realms, reconnect severed immortal paths, and guide those stuck at bottlenecks to the Violet Heaven."

"You won’t even lift a finger—just maintain stable teleportation channels. The Ascension Bureau’s professionals handle the rest."

"Moreover, business trips come with allowances. Though the Ziwei Immortal Realm isn't particularly wealthy right now, we can still offer you a base salary of one million Immortal Yuan Stones per month, plus generous bonuses in the form of Law Origin Essence and Natural Spiritual Resonance..."

"Are you really not interested?"

Before the words even finished—

"Hiss~"

The Little Golden Dragon scratched its horn. That actually sounded... pretty good?

Wait, seriously?

Could it really be that much freedom with such generous rewards?

Or is this just another trick to fool me?

...........

(Internal monologue): Drifting through life in a daze, just lazing around all day...