"The Son of God is a picky eater too?"
Jiang Qiao found it both amusing and absurd.
He asked again,
"Is the Son of God human or a ghost?"
Cui Hao fell silent for a moment, as though choosing his words carefully.
But as he looked at the Thunder Centipede coiled in the courtyard, he finally answered cautiously, "I don't know."
"What do you mean, you don't know?"
"The Son of God is the Son of God."
Cui Hao lowered his voice. "I truly don't know whether the Son of God is human or a ghost. The Holy Society's internal descriptions of him are vague as well. They only say that he is the savior prophesied to descend, the king of the Holy Society."
"Have you ever seen the Son of God?"
"No."
"Then where is the Holy Disciples Society's headquarters?"
"I don't know." Cui Hao shook his head. Afraid Jiang Qiao might think he was brushing him off, he spoke with some urgency. "I'm not lying to you. I've truly never been to the headquarters."
"Because I joined midway through, and it hasn't even been five years."
"I only just gained the Holy Society's trust."
"Perhaps before long, I'll be permitted to go to the headquarters on pilgrimage, but at present, I haven't received the Holy Society's permission."
"The Holy Society's internal communications are extremely tight. Every time, the higher-ups send someone to contact me."
"I've never had a way to contact them proactively."
"One-way message delivery?" Jiang Qiao was somewhat surprised. "What if you had something urgent to report?"
"If it was truly urgent, I could only wait."
Cui Hao said helplessly, "They always came to me, conveyed the Holy Society's instructions, and then I carried them out. If I needed to report something, I'd have to wait