She's a Passerby, But Can See the Protagonist's Halo-Chapter 76

Yan and Jue Jue were walking hand in hand through the hutong, their hearts light with joy.

Though the sky had darkened, the area was well-lit with specially installed street lamps, a testament to the neighborhood’s affluence.

“Finally got rid of that hassle,” Yan said with a grin.

Today had been a fruitful day—she’d passed the Xie family’s affairs to Ding Ling, handed over two valuable bells, enjoyed two free meals, and even toured a grand four-courtyard residence she’d never stepped foot in before.

Counting her blessings, Yan concluded that today had been nothing short of a windfall.

“I’m going to buy a candied strawberry,” she declared.

Right now, one word summed up her mood: ecstatic!

After all, the two individuals entangled in the soul-swapping mess were now Ding Ling’s problem. Whatever came next had nothing to do with them.

“Should we buy it here or back home?” Zhu Jue asked.

Yan hummed in thought. “Let’s see. The ones here might be pricier, but if we wait till we get to the subway station near home, the stalls might already be closed.”

In summer, vendors selling honeydew skewers and old-fashioned popsicles dotted the streets, while winter brought out the sugar-coated hawthorn carts—always appearing like guerrilla fighters, there one moment and gone the next.

From the Shichahai area to the more touristy hutongs, there were plenty of sugar-coated hawthorn sellers, though Yan found their syrup coating inferior to the ones from the humble street stalls.

“I saw online that there’s a new version now—flattened hawthorns coated in chocolate and sprinkled with sesame seeds. Let’s see if we can find some,” Yan said, her mouth already watering at the thought.

“That combination sounds delicious,” Zhu Jue agreed.

“Then let’s get a strawberry first, and if we find the chocolate-covered ones, we’ll take some home. If there’s a stall near our place, we’ll grab more—hawthorns, yam beans, tangerines, and grapes—to enjoy together.”

Yan quickly mapped out their snack itinerary.

The winter night was bitterly cold, and the hutong was nearly deserted, but the bright streetlights cast a warm glow as the two strolled leisurely, unbothered by the eerie quiet.

“Huh? Someone’s there.”

Yan squeezed Zhu Jue’s hand, tucked snugly in their down jacket pockets.

At this hour, in this place—why would another halo bearer appear?

A sudden tension gripped Yan. Could something big be about to happen?

As they drew closer, the full title of the halo became clear, and Yan was momentarily stunned. She’d never seen one displayed like this before.

**[I Am Justice]**

Huh? What?

This was more like a statement. The other halos Yan had encountered—Da Bao and Xiao Bao’s *“Peerless Genius Little Treasures”*, Xu Jiaojiao’s *“Rebirth Crematorium”*, or even the ghost kings and apocalypse-powered individuals—were usually simple, noun-based titles.

This **[I Am Justice]**, however, reminded her of Chu Bingbing’s **[If I Don’t Spend Money, I’ll Die]**.

But this one felt more like a line straight out of an anime—a classic declaration.

What kind of archetype did this halo bearer embody?

Yan’s mind raced as she dissected the words *“I”* and *“Justice.”*

*“I”* was a term often found in historical or wuxia settings, something she’d heard in period dramas or martial arts novels.

*“Justice”*, when paired with professions, conjured images of modern law enforcers—judges, police officers—or ancient vigilante swordsmen who upheld righteousness.

By now, Yan and Zhu Jue had come face-to-face with the bearer of **[I Am Justice]**.

Under the streetlight, Yan got a clear look.

The woman wore only a windbreaker despite the subzero temperatures, her hair cut in a sharp bob. She stood at an average height—around 175 cm—between Yan and Zhu Jue.

Her loose windbreaker made her appear lean rather than bulky, paired with sweatpants and outdoor shoes. A mask covered her face, leaving only her unremarkable eyes visible.

She walked with her hands in her pockets, ambling through the hutong as if it were her own backyard.

Was she a local halo bearer out for a casual stroll? Maybe she had a down vest underneath!

Yet her eyes, seemingly fixed ahead, subtly scanned her surroundings.

As they passed each other, Yan couldn’t resist glancing back.

Her mind whirred with possibilities. That brief encounter revealed something unusual about the woman’s gait.

By the time they turned, the distance between them had grown, leaving only the faint glow of the halo visible in the darkness.

Yan tugged Zhu Jue along, quickening their pace without another word.

The hutong was lined with imposing mansions, and the streetlights likely hid surveillance cameras—not the place for sensitive discussions.

Keeping her tone casual, Yan resumed their earlier conversation. “We’re running low on ice pops at home. Let’s grab some Snowmen, square cakes, and old-fashioned popsicles near our place. I wonder if the vendor stocked the rum-flavored ones yet.”

“Da Bao and Xiao Bao love those. He’ll have them,” Zhu Jue assured.

Only once they boarded the subway home did Yan whisper the halo’s name into Zhu Jue’s ear.

They exchanged glances. “It can’t be related to the Xie family, right?”

But Yan couldn’t shake the feeling that this woman’s sudden appearance foretold new drama.

After all, wherever halo bearers went, chaos followed.

“Maybe she just lives there and has nothing to do with them,” Zhu Jue offered.

Yan nodded vigorously. “We’re just passersby. Total strangers. No connection at all.”

“Could be like that ‘Beast Whisperer’ Yi Lude,” Zhu Jue added.

Since their encounter with Yi Lude on the high-speed train back from Bincheng, he’d remained nothing more than a name in their contacts—utterly uneventful.

“Exactly. None of our business.”

“Who knows? Maybe people like this exist in every field,” Yan mused.

Geniuses who popped up in headlines or niche industries might well be hidden halo bearers—ones Yan simply hadn’t crossed paths with yet.

By now, Yan had made peace with her uncanny ability to spot them.

There was no escaping it. At the end of the day, they were just people—two eyes, one nose, one mouth—albeit with a knack for stirring up trouble. As long as she and Zhu Jue stayed cautious, they’d be fine.

Besides, in Yan’s experience, most halo bearers—aside from the scoundrels around Xu Jiaojiao or that bizarre *“transmigrated novel heroine”* from high school—were actually high-caliber individuals, like her college roommate’s circle.

The two of them carried a bag of candied haws and another of ice cream back home, where Tan Dabao and Tan Xiaobao sat on the floor, hugging their knees in anticipation.

"Brother, sister, you're back."

"Quick, pass out the candied haws before they melt," Yan said, handing over the bag, which Tan Dabao immediately took.

Each candied haw was wrapped in a layer of wax paper and placed in a paper bag. Though it was just a few subway stops away, Yan was worried the heat in the train might cause them to melt.

"I don’t want strawberry—I want black date," Xiao Bao declared, rummaging for the black date candied haws.

"And there’s chocolate? That’s new," Father Yan remarked, clicking his tongue in amazement at the selection.

"You’re not allowed to have the chocolate ones," Madam Yu Feiwan ordered.

Nine people from three households divided the treats, and in the blink of an eye, they were gone.

A single strawberry skewer had four or five berries, so Yan could share with Jue Jue, Da Bao, and Xiao Bao, allowing everyone to taste each flavor—from grape to black date, yam bean, and chocolate.

"Sweetheart, how much were the black date and yam bean ones?" Madam Yu asked.

Yan made an "OK" gesture with her fingers, to which Madam Yu shook her head. "Three yuan? When you were little, they were just one yuan. The strawberry ones must be fifteen, right?"

Yan nodded. "Strawberry is fifteen, chocolate is ten, and plain hawthorn is five."

The adults sighed at how prices had changed over time. Yan and the others ate from bowls to "catch" their treats—once, while biting into a strawberry skewer, she’d accidentally dropped half a strawberry, and what a waste that had been!

Fifteen yuan for five strawberries—losing half meant wasting one and a half yuan.

"After the candied haws, no more ice cream," Madam Yu reminded them, munching on a hawthorn skewer.

The room was warm, heated comfortably. Yan bit into the crispy sugar shell, the icy strawberry bursting with sweet and tangy coolness in her mouth—it was pure bliss!

Winter was meant for sitting in a toasty room eating something ice-cold. Now that was comfort!

Yan took a bite of a candied grape, her eyes lighting up. "It’s like grape shaved ice—so good!"

After the candied haws, the four of them played online mahjong on their phones. They avoided card games because Yan had had enough of the twins’ uncanny ability to memorize cards—playing with them was practically asking for trouble.

While Yan, Jue Jue, and the twins enjoyed their candied haws, mahjong, and later an online murder mystery game, a certain courtyard house in Shichahai finally reached its destined hour.

Under the cover of night, the brightly lit main courtyard of the quadrangle was tense. Xie Zhen and Lan Ruo, freshly bathed and dressed in new clothes, were nervous.

"Miss Ding, is there anything else we need to do? Should we try to fall asleep ourselves?" Lan Ruo asked.

"Just lie down and relax. Don’t think about anything—pretend it’s a normal night’s sleep," Ding Ling instructed.

Beside her, two special ceremonial boxes held a pair of similar yet distinct bronze bells, their covering cloths now removed.

The room was utterly silent. Ding Ling lowered her gaze to the bells.

The Heart-Asking Bell and the Heart-Bewitching Bell—now purified and renamed the Serene Bell and the Clear-Mind Bell—still retained their original functions.

In the hands of someone who could control them, a mere shake would ring the bells, freezing people in place, their minds blank, turning them into puppets.

In anyone else’s hands, these could become tools of calamity.

But now, entrusted to Yan, Ding Ling could rest easy.

In Yan’s possession, they were instruments of tranquility, helping people enter a state of emptiness and peace. But in the hands of someone with even a hint of desire, the consequences would be unimaginable.

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Given the chance to briefly control others—like this wealthy couple before her—how many could resist the temptation to exploit it for money?

Even as a ghost, Ding Ling knew the human heart was unfathomable—impossible to predict or judge.

"Close your eyes," she said, shaking the bells at the same time.

Lan Ruo shut her eyes, the ancient chime resonating in her ears.

"So this is a spiritual artifact…" The thought barely crossed her mind before she slipped into a void.

When she opened her eyes again, she instinctively shielded them from the light.

Then, she saw hands entirely different from the ones she’d had for the past month.

Her own hands—neglected under Xie Zhen’s indifferent care—had lost their manicured elegance.

Lan Ruo turned her wrists, reacquainting herself with her body.

She was back. She was certain—back in her own, female body.

Her head still felt a little dizzy.

But she spotted the watch on her right wrist—Xie Zhen was left-handed, so for the past month, he’d worn watches on her right.

Thanks to his expensive tastes, he’d bought two more luxury women’s watches during that time, now adorning her wrist.

The time had just passed midnight.

Lan Ruo’s pupils dilated. In the span of a single minute—the transition between yin and yang—this mysterious Miss Ding had resolved their problem.

Compared to all the rituals and prayers before, a true master worked with effortless ease.

No wonder she’d called it a "trivial matter," solved with a wave of her hand.

Though they hadn’t gone through the immense effort Miss Ding assumed to seek Yan’s help, the fact that even Ding Ling spoke of them with such caution… Just what level of experts were that seemingly ordinary couple?

Meanwhile, Xie Zhen, lying on the other side of the bed, stared at his own hands and abruptly sat up.

The sudden movement made his head spin.

"Your souls have just returned to your bodies after a month apart. You need time to readjust. Stay still for an hour or two—sleeping is best," Ding Ling advised from beside the bed.

"Understood, Master!" Xie Zhen immediately complied, carefully lying back down.

"Thank you, Miss Ding. We’ve troubled you so much," Lan Ruo said, still lying down, feeling guilty that Ding Ling seemed intent on staying with them.

"To help someone is to see it through. I’ve already been here this long—what’s a little longer to ensure everything’s settled properly?" Ding Ling replied.

"Sleep. ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‍It’s the fastest way to restore your spirits."

She closed her eyes and meditated. The courtyard, arranged according to feng shui, lacked strong yin energy but held traces of natural qi. Clutching the warm jade at her neck, she entered a state of deep focus.

Once this matter was concluded, she could return to her group. The team leader had already messaged her, asking if she’d like to set a test for the younger generation in the mystical arts.

Though she was in Ningcheng, Yan had her own life—Ding Ling didn’t want to disturb her cultivation.

6:00 a.m., the 21st day of the twelfth lunar month.

Ding Ling roused Xie Zhen and Lan Ruo, now fully returned to their own bodies.

The two of them woke up still somewhat bleary-eyed, but the sight of Ding Ling immediately snapped them to attention.

"Miss Ding, our apologies—did we sleep too long?"

Lan Ruo felt as though she had slept deeply, more soundly than she had in years—a night without dreams, utterly peaceful.

"It's fine. I just need to leave soon, so I woke you," Ding Ling shook her head.

"I'll stay for another hour. You two can move around and stretch." She spoke concisely before leaving the room.

Though their clothes had already been freshly changed, now that they were back in their own bodies, Xie Zhen and Lan Ruo each retreated to separate bathrooms to inspect themselves and change into new outfits.

Strangely, after more than a month in this ordeal, the couple had not developed any camaraderie—instead, their mutual disgust had reached new heights.

At seven in the morning, a completely refreshed Xie Zhen and Lan Ruo politely saw Ding Ling off.

"Miss Ding, where are you headed? We can arrange a car for you."

"Master Ding, when would it be convenient for us to visit you?"

Ding Ling raised a hand to stop them.

"I was merely fulfilling a request. There’s no need for thanks. If you really want to express gratitude, thank the ones who deserve it."

She pointed to the two bells inside the designer handbag worth hundreds of thousands.

The day before, Yan and Zhu Jue had carried the bronze bells in a backpack before taking Ding Ling’s bag with them, leaving her without one. That morning, Lan Ruo had rummaged through the walk-in closet and given her the largest H-brand bag she could find.

The ones to thank, clearly, were Yan and Zhu Jue.

Xie Zhen couldn’t hold back. "Master Ding, we didn’t actually request help from anyone. The two friends you mentioned—we met them before at Fayun Temple in Bincheng."

Ding Ling perked up, listening as Xie Zhen recounted their first encounter with Yan and Zhu Jue, as well as their brief second meeting at a church.

Her eyes flickered with realization. So, when Yan had been gossiping last month, she had already met these two.

But then, why had Yan waited all this time before acting today?

Ding Ling sensed there must be some hidden reason she hadn’t grasped—perhaps Yan had been quietly observing them?

Lan Ruo added the detail about the forgotten coat, and Ding Ling nodded. "I see."

She mused, "In that case, the two of you do have some luck."

"That coat was picked up by Yan, and then Lan Ruo proactively connected with them—that created a direct link, the cause."

"And where there is cause, there is today’s effect."

Xie Zhen had hoped to subtly probe Ding Ling about why the couple hadn’t intervened earlier, but instead, he received this answer.

Cause and effect. Fate.

These mystifying concepts left him somewhat bewildered.

But Ding Ling’s meaning was clear—the couple must have had their reasons!

"Then, Miss Ding, how should we thank them?"

"We’re just ordinary people. I’m afraid we won’t know what they’d appreciate."

Lan Ruo posed the question.

Whether it was Ding Ling or Yan and her partner, such a tremendous favor demanded proper gratitude.

But simply offering money felt too simplistic, lacking sincerity.

Moreover, given the status Yan and Zhu Jue seemed to hold in Ding Ling’s words, money was likely the last thing they needed.

Or perhaps, in their eyes, money was no different from dirt, stones, or leaves by the roadside.

For people like them, expressing gratitude and repayment would be incredibly difficult!

Ding Ling thought for a moment before shaking her head. "I can’t help you with that."

"Just follow your heart."

In the six months she had known Yan, Ding Ling had learned many of her preferences.

Yan lived like any ordinary modern young person—she loved good food, beautiful scenery, and traveling.

But in other ways, she often revealed an un-"ordinary" side.

For instance, the couple possessed a wide array of skills, mastering multiple musical instruments, and their knowledge spanned poetry, literature, astronomy, geography, chess, calligraphy, and painting—far beyond mere erudition or wisdom.

Their hobbies were endless. Ding Ling had seen them buy traditional pigments, priceless tea sets… yet to them, these were just passing amusements.

To people of their stature, even the most precious objects were merely mundane trinkets—value was something mortals assigned.

"I should get going." Ding Ling hefted the large bag. Carrying two bells would make the subway inconvenient, so she decided to hail a cab. This was private work, after all, and she couldn’t justify using the Ningcheng team’s official vehicles.

"Oh, about your home study—someone will investigate it. When are you returning to Bincheng?" Ding Ling added.

Though the cause of their body-swapping remained unclear, such an anomaly required examination.

"We’ve already restricted access to the third floor of the villa. At the latest, we’ll return tonight." Xie Zhen responded promptly.

If the study truly housed the culprit behind their ordeal, it was beyond their ability to handle. They had to seal it off and wait for the "professionals."

During his time as "Lan Ruo," though he had gone to the company, most of the actual work had been handled by Lan Ruo playing "Xie Zhen."

Ding Ling hummed in thought. "Then someone will come tomorrow. I’ll pass your contact details along."

"Of course, Master!" Xie Zhen wished he could fly back immediately to eliminate the threat forever—this was an experience he never wanted to repeat.

And the divorce… perhaps it was time to bring it up.

But today, he and Lan Ruo needed to figure out how to thank their "saviors."

Xie Zhen and Lan Ruo escorted Ding Ling to the gate, even walking with her partway down the alley.

Only after Ding Ling insisted did they stop, watching as she disappeared into the distance.

Ding Ling turned a corner in the alley. The liaison from her team leader’s acquaintance had also left the day before. Carrying the heavy bag, she strode forward.

She brushed past a short-haired woman in a windbreaker and froze.

Ding Ling didn’t know this passerby, but… the aura of golden virtue around her was overwhelming.

Her presence carried a righteous clarity, tinged with a faint edge of lethality.

Who was she?

...

Zheng Yi finally spotted the people she had come to find.

The couple, whose appearances matched perfectly but whose hearts were miles apart—or more accurately, the flamboyant young man in the fur-trimmed coat.

She glanced at the long-stalled progress bar of the case above her, which had just inched forward.

Within the five-hundred-meter scan range of her morality radar, the young woman who had just passed by and this "Lan Ruo" registered as gray-white.

But Xie Zhen—was black.