After Becoming a High-Risk Master, I Flipped the Script Chapter 121

When Junhua arrived, Mo Xuanli was deep in meditation inside, while Gu Baiqing was outside teaching the young merfolk basic spells. After spending a few days together, the little merfolk had all grown attached to Gu Baiqing. Even though his face was naturally cold and distant, they still found him easier to approach than Mo Xuanli and clung to him constantly.

Some adult merfolk who had never learned spells also gathered to watch. Though adult merfolk tended to be wary of humans, their nature was pure and kind; after some time together, they became friendly. Some who had once been rescued by them even came to offer seafood and pearls in gratitude. Seeing their sincere smiles, Gu Baiqing could only sigh helplessly—no wonder they’d become a protected species; they had no sense of caution at all.

When they heard that the Second Princess wanted to take them to the sacred land, everyone excitedly told Gu Baiqing,

“That’s a wonderful place—it’s great for people learning magic.” 

“Merfolk who went there before said their cultivation improved by leaps and bounds.”

“But you can’t stay too long—it harms the body.”

“It’s a pity you two are brothers and not Dao partners. If you were, entering together would be even better.”

At that, Gu Baiqing raised an eyebrow. In the original story, it was the master and disciple who entered together.

That thought made him uneasy. In the original text, only Mo Xuanli helped Junhua—he was the one who provided the formation, so only he received the credit. The other disciples of Zixiao Sect didn’t get the same opportunity and even envied him for it. Naturally, as the master was secretly in disguise, he shouldn’t have had that chance either. So why could the master enter too?

It felt like something had been forcibly added in—just to push the emotional development between master and disciple. It didn’t make sense.

This time, though, Junhua had suggested that both of them go in to train, saying that even without advancing, it would still benefit them.

But for Gu Baiqing’s current condition, no place would help much, so he refused.

After all, in the original story, it was inside that their spirits and souls became intertwined. When Mo Xuanli succeeded in his advancement, he came out holding Gu Baiqing—and they disappeared together for a full day and night.

That time, there had been no excuse like poison—it was simply that both had fallen for each other.

Such a dangerous setup, the classic “plot device,” was better avoided. Junhua, of course, just found Gu Baiqing unappreciative.

When Mo Xuanli finally emerged from meditation, Junhua led them both, accompanied by a squad of merfolk guards, toward the sacred land of the merfolk tribe.

It was far from the coral reefs, in a place that looked like an underwater volcano, still within the protection of Weak Water. Mo Xuanli had passed by while setting up formations before and noticed the tight defenses. Even from the perimeter, he could sense the dense spiritual energy—it was like countless pearls being crushed and releasing their power.

This time, as the group approached, they climbed up the spiral paths to the top and looked down through the huge volcanic opening. It resembled a vast lake-like barrier, the entire surface shimmering with a soft bluish-green glow—like liquid mercury. The immense spiritual energy it radiated was breathtaking, as if within that membrane, countless pearls were constantly shattering, or innumerable spirit stones were releasing their essence. Unlike the natural spiritual energy of the world, this was utterly pure—devoid of any impurities.

Suddenly, both Mo Xuanli and Gu Baiqing felt something strange.

They exchanged glances. The difference between this place’s energy and that of a spiritual vein was obvious—but the energy from Beast-Taming Manor was somewhere in between. In density and purity, it sat halfway between this sacred land and an ordinary spiritual vein. Of course, in scale, the Manor couldn’t compare—this sacred place rivaled a massive spiritual vein, a highly concentrated one at that.

Mo Xuanli had mentioned before that there shouldn’t be a spiritual vein beneath Beast-Taming Manor, nor had there been natural disasters in the area to generate one, unlike in Star-Stepping City. Could it be… related to the secret of this place?

“What’s inside?” Mo Xuanli asked.

“This is the sacred land. Naturally, it’s a secret. You can enjoy it—why ask so much?” Junhua replied.

“Don’t you think the spiritual energy at Beast-Taming Manor feels similar to this?” Gu Baiqing asked.

“Spiritual energy… isn’t it all the same? Besides, a place like this sacred land can’t be replicated,” Junhua said dismissively. As a merfolk who had lived all his life in the sea, he’d never seen a spiritual vein and thought all energy was the same.

A secret that can’t be replicated… Could it be related to the merfolk’s pearls again? If it required such harsh conditions, then yes—reproduction would be impossible.

“This place—about a hundred years ago, a human cultivator who had married into the merfolk tribe once entered,” Junhua said. “In a single leap, he went from the late Nascent Soul stage straight to the Tribulation stage.”

Mo Xuanli was stunned. “Who? That strong? He actually skipped the entire Great Ascension stage?”

Junhua paused. “There’s no record of who he was, because something went wrong. Though he reached the Tribulation stage, he was left with lasting damage. His spiritual power was crippled, and he could no longer advance. The spiritual energy here can be absorbed without limit—but he took in too much, and when he couldn’t digest it, his body broke down. Even his merfolk partner couldn’t save him. Eventually, they both faded away. So although we don’t mind how much you absorb, you should still know your limits.”

“How could that happen?” Mo Xuanli frowned. “What should I watch out for when entering?”

“I think you’ll be fine,” Junhua said. “For us merfolk, it’s the same—as long as we don’t let greed take hold. Once you enter, your perception dulls, and your inner desires grow stronger. Those with firm willpower aren’t affected, but that man… he wanted power too badly. He couldn’t stop himself from absorbing more, and with dulled senses, he didn’t even realize his body was collapsing. Just remember this—once you’ve advanced, come out immediately.”

Merfolk were more adapted to this place—probably because they were simple by nature, without much desire.

Humans, though… that was another story.

Mo Xuanli couldn’t help but feel uneasy about himself. He carried too many secrets, too many desires. He turned to look at Gu Baiqing.

Gu Baiqing said, “Don’t worry. I’ll be watching from above.”

No one could better gauge Mo Xuanli’s cultivation progress than he could. He could monitor things safely.

Junhua snorted coldly. “I told you, it’d be better if you both went down together.”

Gu Baiqing gave Junhua a puzzled look—why was she suddenly speaking to them in that tone?

Besides, he’d heard from the other merfolk that only Dao partners entering together could reap greater benefits—it wasn’t something just any two people could do.

But seeing Junhua’s eye roll, Gu Baiqing couldn’t be bothered to argue. He simply said to Mo Xuanli, “Go ahead. I’ll wait up here.”

“Yes, Elder Brother.” Mo Xuanli immediately felt more at ease and turned to leap into the sacred pool.

Yet as he descended, he couldn’t help thinking—if his master’s body were well enough, entering here would surely benefit him too. When would he ever find a way to heal his master?

In truth, it was something that had always weighed on Mo Xuanli’s mind. Wherever they went, he would find excuses to secretly consult the best healer-cultivators, but there was never any progress.

Even after his master agreed to accompany him in searching for the shards of the God-Slaying Sword, Mo Xuanli was still determined to also seek a way to heal him.

He always thought—maybe he wasn’t strong enough. If he reached the Tribulation stage too, or even surpassed his master, perhaps then he could help him.

He needed to grow stronger—fast. In a world this dangerous, seeing what had happened to the merfolk, how else could he protect himself—or his master—if not by becoming powerful?

Above, Gu Baiqing sat down casually on the ground, Junhua sitting beside him.

“Has his spiritual imbalance been stabilized?” Junhua asked.

“It has,” Gu Baiqing replied. He couldn’t help but admire Mo Xuanli for that—he had truly caught up. Mo Xuanli hadn’t rested at all, using every spare moment for cultivation instead of romance, as if making up for the protagonist’s “plot-boosted” pace from the original story.

“By the way, what illness does your master have that requires the God-Slaying Sword to cure it?” Junhua asked curiously.

“It’s… sort of a hereditary illness,” Gu Baiqing said, unsure how else to explain.

“Then he…”

Gu Baiqing quickly cut her off, worried she’d dig too deeply. “Has Fu Ye been found yet?” he asked, steering the topic away.

Junhua quieted. “No. I suspect he’s still on land. If he were in the sea, he could easily send out a distress signal—but there’s been none. The ocean is vast; there’s nowhere to start looking.”

Gu Baiqing looked at her and patted her shoulder gently. “Sometimes it’s necessary to consider the worst-case scenario—especially for those in power. That way, no matter how bad things get, you can make the right decision in time.”

“I know what you mean,” Junhua said. “My little brother may seem timid and frail, but he’s more determined than anyone. When our eldest sister got into trouble, I was trapped and couldn’t go to her, but he found a way to escape to the shore. Yet at that age, we hadn’t even learned to walk on land—going ashore was nearly impossible. He was captured and almost taken away; if not for a kind stranger, he’d have died. I thought that experience would scare him from ever going ashore again, but instead…” She clenched her fist. “Once I catch him, I’ll lock him up in the merfolk palace myself.”

Gu Baiqing’s gaze flickered. He and Mo Xuanli had both tried to change Fu Ye’s fate, but failed every time. In the original story… Fu Ye had died by association. The only way to save him now was if Yu Yingwan didn’t die. That would depend on whether Mo Xuanli followed the original plot and slaughtered Beast-Taming Manor.

Realizing that, Gu Baiqing suddenly felt a bit more hopeful.

Just as he was thinking this, a beam of light flashed across the surface of the pool.

“So fast?” Junhua said. “Is that the light of advancement?”

Gu Baiqing checked and nodded. “Yes. He’s succeeded.”

The Golden Core stage—sixty-six percent into the late phase.

Mo Xuanli didn’t emerge immediately, and the two waited above.

“He hasn’t forgotten my warning, has he?” Junhua frowned slightly. “It’s fine to stay a bit longer, but if he pushes himself too far, I’m not taking responsibility.”

“Maybe he can handle a little more,” Gu Baiqing said.

In meditation, it was best to come out naturally—and Gu Baiqing’s standard was that it shouldn’t exceed perfection.

They watched as the progress slowly, steadily climbed.

At first, the two of them weren’t in a hurry and started chatting about other things.

Junhua brought up the matter of finding backing. “Those old sects definitely have their own balance and standards. Even if I wanted to rely on one, they might not accept me. And the smaller sects wouldn’t be able to protect me anyway—not to mention I can’t even tell who among them covets the merfolk. So what am I supposed to do…”

Gu Baiqing’s eyes flashed. “Find the Black Dragon, of course.”

Junhua rolled her eyes. “Didn’t I say the marriage alliance was off?”

“The marriage may be off, but that doesn’t mean you can’t sign an alliance. Just give it a try,” Gu Baiqing said. As long as Mo Xuanli was the Black Dragon’s master by then, the mission would still be complete. In any case, he couldn’t let Junhua turn her attention toward the demon clan.

Junhua fell silent, thoughtful.

Meanwhile, the light from the pool below continued to shine steadily. When Gu Baiqing checked the progress again, it had already reached 80% of the late Golden Core stage.

His expression changed slightly—that fast? He immediately stood up, worried.

Junhua stood as well. “If you’re not cultivating yourself, there’s no need for you to go down. We can send someone else. The merfolk won’t be as easily affected in there.”

That made sense to Gu Baiqing—after all, this was the sacred land of the merfolk.

Junhua was about to summon two male merfolk when suddenly the light from the pool shifted in color—from gold to a deep red.

The aura changed so abruptly that both their faces paled.

“Heavens—how can there be demonic energy? Did something go wrong—has he gone astray?” Junhua’s voice trembled in disbelief. The Mo Xuanli she knew wasn’t the type to lose control during cultivation. He didn’t seem to harbor any dangerous obsessions.

Gu Baiqing froze, unable to understand how this could happen. Could it be because I wasn’t there with him?

But in the original story, the master and disciple hadn’t cultivated together either—it was just a joint session. There shouldn’t have been such a big difference. Is the system messing with me?

“I’ll send someone right away—” Junhua began, but Gu Baiqing stopped her. “I’ll go.” He couldn’t let anyone else see Mo Xuanli like this. If Mo Xuanli started showing signs of demonic transformation, it wouldn’t be as simple as a deviation in cultivation.

He was just about to jump when Junhua stopped him. “Wait. Take this. Swallow it—it’ll let you keep the same heightened senses as the merfolk.”

Gu Baiqing didn’t hesitate. He swallowed the pearl she handed him and leapt into the glowing pool.

A few merfolk swam closer, concerned, while Junhua could only stay behind and wait. Then she suddenly froze. “Ah—I forgot to tell him. The pearl will help him stay attuned like a merfolk, but if it’s with a Dao partner, it might…”

“Huh? Princess, aren’t they brothers?”

“They’re Dao partners too.”

“Oh… humans really are different from us. Then there’s no need to worry, Princess. Call it… a bit of fun. It’s a good thing.”

Junhua thought about it. When spiritual energies merge during cultivation, their minds and souls intertwine. After all, this sacred place was formed from merfolk pearls—the very symbols of love and new life among their kind. Using such pearls to ascend naturally carried those effects. It was said that Dao partners were best suited for this process, since their amplified desire would only stem from love for one another—making it the safest way. And sometimes, it even deepened that love.

A hundred years ago, that man had also gone in with his Dao partner, but his desire for power outweighed his love. In the end, he fell into his own greed and lost control—his partner couldn’t save him.

As for these two… Junhua clicked her tongue. “How annoying.”

Meanwhile, the moment Gu Baiqing dove in, he felt as if his legs had turned into a fishtail. Startled, he looked down—nothing had changed. Probably just an illusion, allowing his spirit to better attune to the merfolk environment.

The surroundings felt soothing—like his entire body and mind were being gently massaged.

Looking around, it wasn’t quite what he had imagined. It seemed like an independent pocket space, its walls lined with countless turquoise pearls glowing softly. Because the space was small, he could clearly see Mo Xuanli sitting not far away, cross-legged, surrounded by swirling energies.

As expected, spiritual and demonic energy were clashing violently within him. Each time he broke through a stage, he risked demonic transformation—likely because the seal inside him weakened as his cultivation grew. Yet Mo Xuanli had never cultivated the demonic path before; that energy was useless to him.

Normally, given time, he could stabilize on his own—but not now. If he kept absorbing spiritual energy in this frenzied state, he’d end up just like the person Junhua mentioned earlier. What’s worse, the strange energy around them must have dulled his senses, magnifying his inner desire—another possible trigger for demonic corruption.

As Gu Baiqing observed, the progress had reached 85% of the late Golden Core stage—and his demonic energy value had risen.

He couldn’t wait any longer. He rushed forward, channeling his spiritual power to guide Mo Xuanli. But the moment their energies touched, Gu Baiqing shuddered violently. The sensation was eerily familiar—like their spiritual consciousnesses were fusing again, minds pressed close.

He could feel everything Mo Xuanli felt—his joy, sorrow, pain, struggle, and burning desire to become stronger.

“Impatience leads to failure, Xuanli! Wake up! Wake up!” Gu Baiqing called out.

Suddenly, a wave of demonic energy burst forth, throwing Gu Baiqing back.

Mo Xuanli trembled, as though enduring unbearable pain. Then, an external force of spiritual energy struck him, breaking his meditative state. He snapped his eyes open. The world seemed hazy—except for one clear figure before him, a figure that seemed to be slipping away.

A surge of panic struck his heart. That’s mine. I can’t let it go. 

He shot forward, grabbing hold of that figure in a tight embrace. The familiar scent enveloped him, calming his turbulent mind.

Mo Xuanli trembled. In that instant, all his thoughts shifted—What’s the point of growing stronger… if the person before me isn’t here?

When Gu Baiqing looked up, he was met with a pair of familiar dark-red eyes—eyes devoid of reason, filled only with primal, unrestrained desire.

He had seen it, in his sea of ​​consciousness… 

Gu Baiqing was startled and just as he was about to struggle, Mo Xuanli lowered his head and kissed him. Like a wolf, Gu Baiqing was instantly deprived of the right to speak or even breathe, leaving only whimpering sounds.