Option 1: Absorb the nascent soul and transfer it to Mo Xuanli through dual cultivation.
Wait, what kind of ridiculous idea was that?!
Oh, but of course—the system even provided the method for him! How else could it justify charging a hundred points? “Excellent quality, fair price, satisfaction guaranteed.”
But still—dual cultivation?! Absolutely not!!
Gu Baiqing could only fume silently. Who came up with such forced, awkward, and cheap plot setups?!
Option 2: Leave the nascent soul alone, seal yourself away so it can’t see or sense you. Once it can’t feel your presence, it will naturally return to where it feels safe—its body. But you must not use spiritual power to push it away, or it will harm the main body’s cultivation.
Finally—a somewhat decent idea. But the phrasing made it sound as though he was the one who’d misled the poor thing, causing it not to return home. What did this have to do with him?!
Still, it was the only normal option. The problem was, the nascent soul was already practically fused to his skin.
He tugged open his collar, trying to pull the thing off, but it wouldn’t budge. Instead, the little thing kicked its tiny legs in protest, clinging like someone grabbing their only lifeline.
Gu Baiqing feared he’d hurt it if he pulled any harder—so he had to give up.
Option 3: The same “let it be” routine as always.
Keep the nascent soul close to Mo Xuanli’s dantian until it senses something familiar and naturally merges back into his body. It might just take… a while.
Gu Baiqing sighed—he’d have to pick this one. But just as he was about to carry it out, he realized the trap beneath the trap.
To place the nascent soul by Mo Xuanli’s dantian while it clung to him, he’d have to stay on the bed too.
Face to face sitting? Legs got in the way—too far. Standing? Mo Xuanli was unconscious—he’d have to hold him. That was even worse.
So… the only option left—was to lie down together, face to face.
Now it really did look like a parent sleeping with a baby in their arms. Just thinking of the image made his skin crawl.
By the time Gu Baiqing eased Mo Xuanli into his arms and lay down facing him, his mind was completely blank from exhaustion. Everything lately seemed to come down to this man, forcing him into one trap after another. If Mo Xuanli woke up now, how the h*ll was he supposed to explain this? There was no theory, no logic—just a “method” the d*mn system told him to follow. Would Mo Xuanli ever believe that?
The atmosphere between them was already strange after the last demonic incident, and Gu Baiqing felt he was barely holding things together. With a soft sigh, he mourned his own miserable fate—cursed with a system that kept trying to “bend” him.
Still, once they were lying there together, holding the nascent soul between them, Mo Xuanli’s corruption value finally stopped rising. That was at least one comfort.
Bored, Gu Baiqing glanced down and observed the little nascent soul—it seemed perfectly at peace now, even playing with the God Nine Transformations bracelet around Mo Xuanli’s wrist.
The bracelet played back, wriggling with it happily, until the red cord slithered up toward Gu Baiqing’s chest, making him uncomfortable.
He tugged on it, and the bracelet obediently retracted—but still looped around his waist, while the little nascent soul boldly rubbed against the skin of his chest.
And then, somehow, its faintly outlined features rubbed against a place they definitely shouldn’t. At first, Gu Baiqing didn’t notice—but when a strange sensation followed, as if the thing had even sucked twice, he gasped and quickly pushed its tiny head away.
But the little soul wouldn’t cooperate—if he pushed one way, it wriggled to the other.
Gu Baiqing was exasperated beyond words.
Was this really a baby? Hungry and looking for food?
Then go find the one who made you, not me!
He figured the nascent soul probably fed on spiritual energy—but he couldn’t use his own, or he’d risk hurting it.
Maybe if it got hungry enough, it would return to Mo Xuanli’s body on its own.
Still, before that could happen, could it please stop using him as a snack?
With no other choice, Gu Baiqing finally stuck out a finger and let it latch onto that instead—soothing the tiny creature and saving what was left of his dignity.
He was completely speechless at this point.
How could something that belonged to Mo Xuanli—a man so cold and proper—turn out to be this unruly?
Thinking so, Gu Baiqing glared resentfully at the unconscious Mo Xuanli on the bed.
Might as well wait until he wakes up, find some excuse to “test” him, and give him a good beating—just to soothe the injury to his heart.
But then he thought about how that would cost spiritual energy and… wait a second—
Gu Baiqing suddenly realized that even though he hadn’t directly touched Mo Xuanli, merely staying close to the little nascent soul was causing his own energy to replenish.
This… well, of course. The little nascent soul was Mo Xuanli, after all.
Gu Baiqing sighed again. Mo Xuanli lay there fast asleep, face peaceful and beautiful, as if the little nascent soul nearby made him feel especially at ease.
A feeling of quiet satisfaction welled up in Gu Baiqing’s heart—almost like a father watching his son finally grow up. After all, in the original text, by this point Mo Xuanli had already set foot on the road of no return, his temperament becoming darker and more violent. What happened at Taixu Hall had only laid everything bare. Without that interference, Mo Xuanli might still have gone down that same path.
But now, everything was fine. Though there remained the risk of demonic corruption, he hadn’t turned to demonic cultivation—only the demonic blood in his veins was stirring.
And that was easy enough to explain away. Ordinary cultivators sometimes suffered deviations or inner demons during training or breakthroughs, and such incidents could resemble demonic transformation. The outward signs—demonic energy lingering, red eyes—were often the same. People couldn’t tell whether that demonic aura came from within or from outside, so as long as it dispersed and the eyes turned normal again, it proved the person hadn’t truly become a demon, or wasn’t one to begin with.
Unless one examined the body for a demon root—or belonged to special sects like Wuxiang Temple that had ways to tell—most wouldn’t notice. In the original text, Taixu Hall only grew suspicious because Mo Xuanli had accidentally released an unusually strong demonic aura; they didn’t believe it was just an unstable cultivation state or residue from a demonic injury, so they brought out special methods to test him. But that kind of thing was rare.
Usually, Mo Xuanli’s demonic flare-ups passed quickly. Even if someone saw it, they would only assume he’d lost control for a moment due to an unsteady mindset—nothing more than a brush with inner demons. It might cause gossip, but no one would accuse him outright of being a demon.
So even though his master had seen his red eyes a few times, Mo Xuanli never worried about being exposed—he always recovered quickly afterward.
And now, he hadn’t shown any sign suspicious enough for Taixu Hall to doubt him, nor had he practiced demonic arts, so no huge burst of demonic energy would appear. No suspicion, no investigation—he would safely pass the Taixu Hall ordeal.
Then, during the Immortal Sect Tournament, Mo Xuanli wouldn’t be cast into the abyss just before victory. Instead, he’d stand proudly in the spotlight, earning applause and admiration through his own talent and effort.
That would be the good disciple he’d raised himself.
Though the plot had now veered completely away from the original, Gu Baiqing couldn’t help feeling happy. With Mo Xuanli’s current self-discipline, his mission would surely be completed on time. Once they found all the fragments and changed his constitution, his future would be perfectly secure.
The more Gu Baiqing thought about it, the more content he felt—until, little by little, he drifted off to sleep.
In a daze, he dreamed again—of that illusion he’d once fallen into, living with Mo Xuanli in the modern world.
They were brothers. Roommates. Living together day and night, sharing an easy, joyful life—complaining to each other about work, traveling together, trying new things. When it rained, they’d curl up on the couch, play games, watch movies, never go out.
Those were things he used to do alone—but with Mo Xuanli there, he wasn’t alone anymore.
Until one night… Mo Xuanli held him down, pressed him beneath, and kissed him. His hoarse voice whispered with hidden affection, and his hands began to wander, trying to take control.
Gu Baiqing wanted to resist, but his body felt languid, his mind sinking deeper, his will dissolving in waves of pleasure.
So what if I’ve lost my dignity… he thought vaguely. It feels good right now. I’ll clear things up afterward. This can’t continue.
But the sensations only grew more real. When Gu Baiqing finally woke—panting, heart racing—he was already trapped under a powerful, oppressive weight.
His eyes flew open—meeting a pair of scarlet ones staring intently at him, gaze fixed like a predator upon its prey.
Gu Baiqing tried to speak—but his mouth was already sealed.
Just like in the dream—their clothes scattered aside, Mo Xuanli kissing him deeply and fervently. Gu Baiqing couldn’t even lift a hand to push him away—it was already too late for that.
The pleasure Mo Xuanli brought him was exactly the same as in that illusion. Gu Baiqing gave in, eyes shimmering, like a drowning man grasping at drifting wood.
Perhaps it had happened too many times before—his straight-man instincts had dulled. He simply let Mo Xuanli pull his hand along and do as he pleased. Amid the chaos, a fleeting thought crossed Gu Baiqing’s mind—Wait, this… doesn’t even feel like my own hand.
As expected—after each breakthrough, the demonic side took over, and once demonic, he always lost his mind.
Once this is over, Gu Baiqing decided weakly, I’m going to knock him out cold.
But that thought didn’t hold for long—once, twice, until the third time, when Mo Xuanli, no longer satisfied, finally decided to go further.
Just as their position shifted—Gu Baiqing suddenly snapped awake.
Outside, the dragon Ao Hang had already curled up around the kitten Three Bean and fallen asleep.
Beside them, Qian Yue sat quietly in meditation, and Junhua had just returned from the coral reef.
Then—a flash of lightning burst through the palace roof, startling everyone.
Ao Hang looked up. “Wasn’t the heavenly tribulation over?”
“That’s not heavenly thunder—it’s master’s lightning! Something’s wrong!” cried Three Bean, dashing out immediately.
The others followed. Just as Ao Hang reached the door to push it open, a voice shouted from inside—
“Don’t come in!”
It was Gu Baiqing’s voice—shaky, uneven.
“Master, what happened?”
“It’s fine. Mo Xuanli’s fine. He’ll wake up soon. Wait in the hall—I’ll be out right away.”
Everyone looked at one another, puzzled, while Junhua rubbed her chin and said, “Why does this scene feel… strangely familiar?”
Before long, Gu Baiqing came out but his expression didn’t look good.
Everyone present knew Mo Xuanli’s physical condition, but they all assumed Gu Baiqing didn’t. And since Qian Yue was also there, no one dared to speak rashly.
Gu Baiqing merely said, “His nascent soul has returned.”
“Returned after being struck by lightning? But…” Qian Yue frowned.
“It wasn’t forced back. He went back on his own. Just now… his state of mind was unstable, so I helped him calm down.” Gu Baiqing nearly ground his teeth saying this. The demonized Mo Xuanli was truly outrageous and he was furious at himself too, for somehow giving in to that point. He must have been brainwashed. It was terrifying, utterly terrifying.
Before they could talk much more, a shadow darted over at incredible speed and stopped right in front of Gu Baiqing.
“Master, are you alright? Your wound, your hand, let me see…”
It was Mo Xuanli. This time, since Gu Baiqing hadn’t struck him as harshly as before and Mo Xuanli had already advanced to the Nascent Soul stage, his endurance was far greater, so he woke up quickly.
However, his memory seemed to have stopped at the moment he’d tried to quell the beast riot and fainted. Back then, he had been holding his master, who was coughing blood and unconscious, and had seen the cracks on Gu Baiqing’s palm.
When he awoke, he could still feel faint electric currents lingering in his body, familiar, unmistakably his master’s. He didn’t even realize he’d been struck; he only knew that his master must have awakened and was nearby.
So he rushed over at once, reaching to grab Gu Baiqing’s hand to check.
But Gu Baiqing quickly pulled his hand back in alarm.
Mo Xuanli looked up, confused, only to see his master’s eyes averted, one hand hidden firmly behind his back.
How could Gu Baiqing possibly let him touch that hand? Not long ago, this brat had held that very hand while doing those things! Just thinking about it made him want to scrub his palm raw with cleansing spells a few hundred times. Shameless creature, touching everything he shouldn’t. Should’ve chopped that hand off! The memory of that sensation… he needed to erase it, immediately. Terrifying.
“Master is fine. You, on the other hand, how do you feel at the Nascent Soul stage?” Gu Baiqing asked with a straight face.
Mo Xuanli blinked, then finally realized that he must have advanced while unconscious. No wonder it had felt as if he’d endured purgatory, only to reach divine bliss and then insatiable craving, wanting more.
The power of the Nascent Soul stage was incomparable to the Golden Core. With a mere lift of his hand, the gathered spiritual energy rippled through the surrounding waters.
The feeling lit his face with joy. He’d grown stronger, one step closer to his master at last.
But then his expression shifted slightly. He remembered that his advancement could easily trigger demonization especially since it had happened while he was unconscious. Nervously, he asked, “Did… anything strange happen during the process?”
