He went back to pack his luggage, and under the landlady auntie's death stare, dragged a suitcase out the door.

Out with the old, in with the new.

He decided to change his environment.

While packing, Chubby sorted out his thoughts and set out to pursue a dream.

There was a place he had long wanted to live in.

That place was called Xiuxian Bieyuan, a famous high-end cultivation community in Rong City, providing cultivators with a comfortable environment for sparring and communication, and was said to be full of beautiful women and handsome men everywhere.

To live in such a desirable place, there was a prerequisite: whether you were a homeowner or a tenant going through the move-in process, you had to be a cultivator.

Chubby had been around the block for many years and had old acquaintances in all walks of life. He called a well-connected rental agent: “Old Thompson, I want to move. Do you have any listings in Xiuxian Bieyuan?”

“Xiao Pei—no, can I call you benefactor? After you saved my life, helping you find a place is no problem. I can run errands for you and won’t even charge the usual commission. The problem is, Xiuxian Bieyuan only rents to cultivators. You have to handle the paperwork in person—there’s no way to fake it.” The middle-aged uncle on the phone sounded like he was about to cry.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make things hard for you. I’ve awakened.” Chubby said.

“Really?” Old Thompson was delighted, but then suddenly changed the subject: “Then I suggest you look elsewhere. Xiuxian Bieyuan hasn’t been peaceful this year—there have been several haunted houses.”

“What’s going on?” Chubby asked.

“Since the New Year, three homeowners and four tenants have died—all cultivators.” Old Thompson said.

“How did they die?” Chubby asked again.

“I don’t know the details. I heard there’s some investigation team, but after a month they still haven’t found the culprit. All the agents in that area are saying that something dirty has appeared in Xiuxian Bieyuan.” Old Thompson said.

“Xiuxian Bieyuan is full of hidden dragons and crouching tigers, experts everywhere. How would anything dirty dare to act up?” Chubby was a bit surprised.

“How would I know? Anyway, Xiuxian Bieyuan isn’t what it used to be. Some tenants are banding together, demanding refunds every day. There are also some fearless ones, shouting that they want to have a go with the dirty thing.” Old Thompson said.

“That’s great!”

Chubby wasn’t scared at all—on the contrary, he was excited: “Hurry up and get me a place. I want to have a go too.”

“You’re still as crazy as ever. Take my advice, that place isn’t worth it. Xiuxian Bieyuan requires at least a one-year lease. If someone dies again, you won’t even be able to get your money back.” Old Thompson advised.

“Brother Thompson, have a little faith in me. You know what I do.” Chubby said confidently.

“Let me be upfront with you: all the available units in Xiuxian Bieyuan are haunted. If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t even mention it. But with you, kid, I won’t pretend. Think it over.” Old Thompson showed a rare bit of conscience.

“No need to think it over. I’ll live in Xiuxian Bieyuan. Recommend me a haunted house.” Chubby was resolute.

“Then I suggest you rent a two-bedroom single apartment. The two-bedroom units in Xiuxian Bieyuan are ingeniously designed—one is a bedroom, the other a training room. The decor is luxurious yet elegant, and the soundproofing is excellent.” Old Thompson got down to business.

“How much is the rent?” Chubby asked.

“In the past, a cultivation apartment of that level would cost two hundred thousand a year, plus a hundred thousand deposit. Ever since the big incident last month, prices have dropped. Those haunted units are now a hundred thousand a year, fifty thousand deposit.” Old Thompson said.

“Say no more, let’s go see the place right now.” Chubby never minded spending money when chasing his dreams.

“Alright, let’s meet at the main gate of Xiuxian Bieyuan.” Old Thompson didn’t try to persuade him anymore. With his understanding of crazy beauties, once that fat guy made up his mind, not even nine oxen could drag him back.

Chubby hailed a cab and headed to Xiuxian Bieyuan.

All the way there, his mind was restless.

Henry Parker had saved many people in his life. Two years ago, he saved a female cultivator who had been beaten into a mess by a monster. Out of gratitude, she treated him to a meal.

Just when Chubby thought he had found love again, that beautiful, sweet-voiced female cultivator drew a line in a subtle way: “My ideal boyfriend has to live in Xiuxian Bieyuan.”

That subtlety hit Chubby like a critical blow.

The act he didn’t get to put on back then, he finally had a chance to pull off now.

Even if it meant moving into a haunted house, he wouldn’t hesitate.

The “dirty thing” Old Thompson mentioned was, nine times out of ten, a monster.

A man who walks alone in the world cannot coexist with monsters.

When he arrived at the gate of Xiuxian Bieyuan, Chubby was dazzled.

Waves of handsome men and beautiful women strolled along the street outside the main gate.

Xiuxian Bieyuan was known as a paradise for romantic encounters, and it truly lived up to its reputation.

There were always some mortal women dressed to the nines, waiting for passing male cultivators.

There were also plenty of good-looking guys in their flashiest outfits, hoping to bump into female cultivators.

This was the reality of the new era—real life everywhere you looked.

As soon as Chubby got out of the car, he saw an auntie radiating magical energy, carrying a bag of spirit apples, sweeping her scrutinizing gaze over a dozen or so handsome guys loitering outside the gate.

In the end, the auntie picked a strapping, athletic-looking hunk.

The auntie’s eye was as sharp as a ruler.