A few days later, the Bureau released a list of personnel involved in the Mirror Flower Water Moon Butterfly incident, and honestly explained the full story: those who had been parasitized by the butterfly had been quietly handled as natural deaths after the incident.

The Bureau's intention was to tell everyone that there were no more "fake people" parasitized by the butterfly, and to reassure everyone.

However, their poor public relations skills sparked another wave of ethical debates on life and death.

From the initial concealment to the quiet handling of the death, the angry families and friends of the deceased refused to accept it.

The newly established media relations department of the Bureau of Paranormal Control collectively pulled their hair out for three days, issuing a sincere apology, plans for handling those involved, and compensation... but it was all useless, and they were cursed to the depths of hell.

Some people criticized them for being cold and others for being overly emotional. Many more wrote scathing articles condemning the Bureau of Paranormal Control's system and demanding that the government dissolve this rotten organization. Some even expressed their despair and desire to commit suicide, saying that if the police didn't arrest and execute all the special ability users, they would livestream their own wrist-slitting.

Articles like "A Life is Only Worth XXX, and They Say They're Deceiving You for Your Own Good" were flying all over the place.

In short, nobody was right and chaos triumphed.

For a moment, the entire human race, whose beliefs had been overturned, was like a pot of boiling water, with both sides of the special abilities and anti-special abilities being like "hot oil" - whoever splashed would get it in the face.

However, those with special abilities and those affected by special ability events were always a minority.

Most people, after the pot had exploded, still had to do what they had to do.

After all, "how special ability people and ordinary people should get along" was a big problem that needed long-term discussion.

In the short term, they still had to make way for "urgent matters" - such as the start of the school year, new KPIs, stupid bosses wanting to do stupid team building activities, and graduate entrance exam results being released.

Furthermore, the central bank announced an interest rate hike, and rent inexplicably followed suit, causing office workers to cry and calculate the increase in their mortgage payments.

And so, with hearts full of anxiety, spring began.

The world, like its own metabolism, gradually returned to its natural growth patterns under the influence of abnormal energy, and the gossip of celebrities and the news broadcast quietly returned to the trending topics for fifty minutes today.

As for Xuan Ji--

"35.9 degrees." Xuan Ji recorded Sheng Lingyuan's latest temperature, which was 0.3 higher than yesterday.

During this period, Sheng Lingyuan's heartbeat slowly recovered from barely moving every ten minutes to around forty beats per minute, and his body temperature gradually rose like a thawing person.

After recording, Xuan Ji stared at Sheng Lingyuan for a while, then suddenly sighed, leaned down, and touched noses to feel Sheng Lingyuan's long breath.

His breathing had only returned last weekend, at first intermittent, like the shyest wind in the world that could be scattered by a speck of dust.

Although he knew that as long as Chiyuan wasn't sealed, the Heavenly Demon's body could recover on its own, Xuan Ji still anxiously guarded that faint breath, watching over it for three whole days until it finally stabilized.

That gentle breath seemed to have a gravitational pull, drawing Xuan Ji closer and closer until he couldn't resist any longer and lowered his head to capture Sheng Lingyuan's lips.

His lips were cold and soft, almost surprising Xuan Ji.

How could someone as carefree as him have such a tender side?

As soon as Xuan Ji's lips touched his, memories flooded his mind like a revolving lantern. He realized that nothing in his past had been perfect, and he was left with a lingering sense of frustration.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, and he squeezed his pillow until it was misshapen.

He even considered biting down hard, but ultimately couldn't bring himself to do it.

"His lips are too soft..." he muttered to himself.

Determined to take out his anger on something, Xuan Ji began to explore Sheng Lingyuan's body, searching for a spot that wouldn't hurt too much.

He settled on the outer side of his upper arm, which he had heard was less sensitive.

Rolling up Sheng Lingyuan's sleeve, Xuan Ji sank his teeth into the flesh, intending to draw blood and vent his frustration.

But as soon as his teeth made contact, they rebelled against him, refusing to sink any further.

"It's like I'm a rebel commander, and my teeth won't obey orders," Xuan Ji grumbled.

Xuan Ji couldn't help but loosen his grip, and the powerful recovery ability of the demon had already filled in the shallow tooth marks, leaving no trace except for saliva.

This only made Xuan Ji even more angry.

At that moment, his phone vibrated and Xuan Ji picked it up to see a message from Xiao Zheng: "Are you free now? I'm bringing some people to see you."

Ten minutes later, when the Nanming Vermilion Bird clan chief greeted his guests in the living room, he was already quite flustered.

He didn't bring Sheng Lingyuan back to his small apartment in Yong'an temporarily because there were too many people coming to see him, and it would be too disruptive to live in a residential area.

At this moment, they were staying in a sanatorium on the outskirts of Yong'an.

It was backed by the Western Mountains, covering an area of over a thousand acres, with an artificial lake and only the two of them and a circle of guards who kept their distance.

The reception room was spacious and bright, as large as a conference room - in fact, in the ten years that Xuan Ji had lived among mortals, he had never seen a living room this big, even if he added up all the houses he had lived in.

But when his "guests" crowded in, it still felt cramped.

Except for the translators, all the accompanying personnel had to wait at the door, and even Chief Huang had no seat. Xiao Zheng could only stand in the corner, giving him a distant look.

Xuan Ji sighed, "Don't panic, everyone. Let's move to a more spacious place."

As he spoke, he raised his hand and slowed down his movements, allowing everyone to see clearly.

Then, fine threads of flame color spread out from his fingers, weaving a spell between the walls and the floor.

Immediately, the four walls of the reception room expanded by more than three times.

Amidst a low murmur of amazement, Xuan Ji flicked his finger and several long feathers from the vase beside him flew out, transforming into human figures that swiftly darted around the entire reception room, leaving a steaming cup of tea in front of each person.

The guests exchanged glances, marveling at the revival of the divine bird in the Biquan Mountains and the fiery ascent of the Vermilion Bird.

Just a few photos were enough to send shivers down their spines.

After all, even the most extraordinary humans were still just "human," with their own immature management systems developed over the years.

But what was Xuan Ji?

A rare prehistoric creature?

A Godzilla of the human world?

A spokesperson for some natural law?

Or... a god?