After Becoming a High-Risk Master, I Flipped the Script Chapter 4

Even after waking up, Gu Baiqing stared at the antique, elegant room around him in a daze, still struggling to adjust. Everything felt so unreal, like he was stuck between two lifetimes. He got up and stood before the spiritual mirror, staring blankly at the reflection.

The face staring back at him was still familiar, but far more exquisite than his original one. The brows were sharp like blades, phoenix eyes long and bright like stars, with a tall nose and pale, thin lips tinged in an aloof pink. The overall effect was one of cold, unreachable beauty—elevated and ethereal, unlike his former self.

The most distinct feature was a cluster of fine, pale blue lines on his forehead—cracks like tiny forks of lightning, marking him as someone with a rare thunder spiritual root.

Paired with long, silky black hair that shimmered like ink, he looked like something out of a tranquil moonlit painting.

As he stared absentmindedly, Mo Xuanli suddenly appeared behind him and startled him into one of the most embarrassing scenes possible: stepping on his robe, tripping, falling face-first into a magic mirror…

Gu Baiqing absolutely refused to admit this was his own carelessness. This had to be some kind of trap. This world was full of plot traps!

To make things worse, the system joyfully broadcasted the spiritual power increase!

Increase your *ss!

Was the system trying to imply intimacy? Intimacy, intimacy, intimacy?! How the h*ll was any of this intimate?!

And yet, the moment Gu Baiqing felt their current position, then looked up again… that one scene he had been forced to imagine from reading the original text replayed in his mind—only now, with real people and real contact. It burned the image deeper into his psyche.

….

Gu Baiqing’s hands trembled as they pressed against the glowing spiritual stone. His eyes lifted, misted with confusion and humiliation, as he stared at the mirrored scene before him.

“Master, if it hurts… just say it… this disciple can endure…”

The expression on the disciple’s face behind him was something Gu Baiqing had never seen before—strange and intense, like something was spiraling out of control. It made Gu Baiqing tremble even harder inside.

“No need… it’s just something that has to be done… Don’t drag it out. You… hurry up.”

“Master, I’m sorry, I…”

“Shut up. Be quiet…”

….

AHHHHHHHHH! Begone, evil spirits!!

It’s not like he wanted to remember! It’s just that his brain processed information too fast—he didn’t even have time to stop it! Back then, Mo Xuanli had just begun to discover the “joys” of manipulation, playing the innocent while secretly extracting benefits…

Now it all felt like that terrible scene was about to become real, and Gu Baiqing completely lost his cool. Without thinking, he slapped out a palm filled with spiritual energy.

Mo Xuanli was thrown straight into the doorframe, let out a muffled groan, then collapsed onto the floor, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Only then did Gu Baiqing realize he’d overreacted.

Before he could apologize, Mo Xuanli dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead to the ground and said in a panicked voice, “This disciple offended Master. I deserve death. Please punish me.”

Gu Baiqing froze, his conscience stung. He couldn’t exactly say, “Sorry, I hit you because I got flashbacks from the original story involving you.” So he could only force himself to respond, “You’re not at fault. It was my mistake.”

Mo Xuanli flinched slightly, lifting his head nervously to look at Gu Baiqing.

He was wearing the Zixiao Sect’s purple-gray disciple robes. A dark purple forehead ribbon, meant to protect spiritual awareness, crisscrossed neatly on his forehead and tied into a high ponytail at the back. Now, freshly washed and groomed, this sixteen or seventeen-year-old youth looked utterly refined—his features clear and radiant, with a kind of outstanding, otherworldly charm.

Yesterday, the blood had concealed the small black mole above his nose, but now that it was visible, it lent Mo Xuanli an added air of purity.

However, his pale face and light lips clearly showed that his body hadn’t recovered well yet. Coupled with the smear of blood at the corner of his mouth, he evoked a natural sense of pity.

Gu Baiqing found it hard to meet Mo Xuanli’s clear gaze. After all, according to the original text, if he hadn’t taken that punishment in Mo Xuanli’s place, the romantic plotline wouldn’t have even begun. At this point, Mo Xuanli shouldn’t be harboring any such thoughts. That slap he just received was, in all honesty, unjustified.

Gu Baiqing coughed awkwardly, “I… I’m not used to being touched. It was a reflex. You… you may rise.”

“Yes, Master.” Mo Xuanli stood up, still unsteady on his feet, staggering a little before managing to hold a respectful bowing posture. “It was this disciple’s fault for not knowing Master’s taboos. I will remember it in the future.”

“Mn, just remember.” Gu Baiqing couldn’t help but complain internally: Yes, remember to stay away from me so we can both be safe. “That slap earlier probably injured you further. And the wounds from the Spirit-Flaying Whip haven’t healed either. Didn’t I tell you to recover fully before returning?”

“This disciple… wanted to begin learning from Master as soon as possible.”

What a diligent attitude, Gu Baiqing thought. Not bad. A student like this will make future ‘tiger parenting’ a breeze—shouldn’t hear any complaints.

“You can go to the next room and pick some healing herbs yourself. Since you study medical cultivation, you should know how to treat yourself.”

Mo Xuanli’s pupils shrank. He instinctively looked up, voice tight: “Master, how can a minor injury like this be worth using your herbs? Besides, it was this disciple’s own mistake—breaking into the forbidden ground and bringing shame to Master, I…”

Gu Baiqing felt a pang of sympathy for him. Mo Xuanli’s overly cautious nature made it seem like he couldn’t even accept a small act of kindness without fear.

It was hard to imagine that the future powerful protagonist was currently like this.

Mo Xuanli had all the hallmarks of a classic xianxia tragic genius male lead. His father was a cultivator; his mother a demon cultivator. They had fallen in love against the odds and lived a peaceful, secluded life. But twelve years ago, the great war between cultivators and demons broke out. His father died in battle, and his mother was treated as a traitor and executed. Even though Mo Xuanli had done nothing wrong, he, as a half-demon hybrid, was hunted relentlessly.

Because the war had caused immense casualties, the human cultivation world harbored deep hatred and prejudice against demons and hybrids. Thus, Mo Xuanli lived a tragic, precarious life from a young age. His greatest wish every day was probably just to survive and see the next sunrise.

Eventually, a powerful figure helped him seal his demonic nature so he could pose as a regular human and enter Zixiao Sect. But even then, the demon blood in his veins hindered his ability to draw spiritual energy into his body. Despite having immense latent power, he couldn’t access it easily, which made him appear talentless. He had to start out as an outer sect disciple.

Being an orphan only made things worse—he was constantly bullied and looked down on. Only through great effort did he manage to advance to the inner sect at age fifteen or sixteen.

At that time, Gu Baiqing’s original self had hit a bottleneck in cultivation. The Sect Master forced him to take on a disciple, hoping it would spark some new insight. That was when he encountered Mo Xuanli. As the strongest in the sect, Gu Baiqing was the only one able to see through Mo Xuanli’s dual-natured potential—he could cultivate both righteous and demonic paths, and his future was limitless.

The orthodox path abhorred the demonic path, so Gu Baiqing hesitated. But after observing him and confirming that Mo Xuanli had a kind heart and aspired sincerely toward the path of righteousness, he finally accepted him as a disciple.

Possibly because he wanted to keep a close eye on him, but sword cultivation was too domineering and risky. Fearing that Mo Xuanli’s demonic nature might erupt under such intense methods, Gu Baiqing used “lack of talent” as an excuse to forbid him from practicing swordsmanship and instead handed him off to Elder Flying Crane, assigning him to the medical path—a more peaceful way to cultivate.

Only after this recent incident did Gu Baiqing start to change his mind. Perhaps he realized his cold treatment had driven Mo Xuanli to take such a desperate risk—seeking medicine to curry favor. Yet his demon blood had provoked a fellow imprisoned demon, causing a mess. Only after all that did the original Gu Baiqing begin to genuinely guide him, inadvertently opening a whole new door.

But now, Gu Baiqing had personally slammed that door shut.

Thinking about all this, Gu Baiqing’s sympathy got the better of him. He looked at that still-humble young face and couldn’t help saying, “You are my personal disciple. The things in that room—you have every right to use them.”

As soon as he said that, Gu Baiqing instantly regretted it. Mo Xuanli was now staring at him with a look of disbelief, as if he was about to be moved to tears.

Gu Baiqing shivered. No! I can’t let him think I’m being nice to him! That would trigger the “caring master” plot trope!

Gu Baiqing had never been in a relationship and wasn’t good at interpreting people’s looks. He didn’t want to be that narcissistic kind of guy who thinks someone’s in love just because they look at him twice. But this was Mo Xuanli from the original novel. Just to be safe, he had to snuff out any possibility.

“What?” he snapped. “You don’t know the rules? That room is assigned to personal disciples by default. I’m not making an exception for you.”

“And since I’ve already said I’ll be teaching you personally, are you really planning to drag your half-dead body into class and waste my time?”

Mo Xuanli quickly nodded, face full of shame. “It’s this disciple’s fault. I understand.”

“I’m giving you five days to recover. After that, come find me again.” The system had, quite humanely, left these next few days free of daily tasks due to Mo Xuanli’s injuries, so Gu Baiqing didn’t mind.

“I will follow Master’s orders.” Mo Xuanli bowed in obedience. In truth, he really wanted to ask—why had Master changed his mind and agreed to teach him?

But faced with Gu Baiqing, Mo Xuanli dared not speak, afraid that one wrong word would make his Master retract his decision. After all, the image of Gu Baiqing holding the Spirit-Flaying Whip was still fresh and terrifying in his mind.

Still, a flicker of hope lit in Mo Xuanli’s eyes as he cautiously asked, “Master, what will you be teaching? This disciple wishes to prepare the appropriate materials in advance.” Could it be swordsmanship? He could hardly believe it. In his Master’s eyes, he had always been talentless.

“Swordsmanship,” Gu Baiqing replied. “I will begin teaching you the core mental technique and sword forms.”

Mo Xuanli stood stunned for several moments before finally responding, “But this disciple’s spiritual roots are weak, and my spiritual power is low…” This was what he truly believed. He had thought it was simply the price of sealing his demonic nature.

Gu Baiqing said lightly, “Oh really?”

Mo Xuanli was just about to respond when Gu Baiqing suddenly launched an attack straight at him. Gu Baiqing said, “Draw your sword!”

Mo Xuanli instinctively drew the plain wooden sword at his waist—the kind everyone carried, even those who weren’t sword cultivators, since it was still needed for things like flying.

Being shouted at like that, and clearly seeing the movements coming at him, his body reacted almost purely on instinct and struck back.

This time, Gu Baiqing’s attack carried no spiritual energy—it was just a normal physical move. He even used a plum blossom branch taken from a vase nearby, treating it as a sword and stabbing forward.

After a few moves, Gu Baiqing stopped. Mo Xuanli’s face had turned even paler, his entire body trembling—not just from his injuries, but from…

“Not a bad counter. Looks like you’ve actually been studying swordsmanship,” Gu Baiqing commented.

Mo Xuanli immediately dropped to his knees. “Master, please forgive me! This disciple absolutely didn’t secretly practice swordsmanship, I… I only…”

His swordplay had been sharp, fluid—far more skilled than most sword cultivators of his age.

“I know. You just have a photographic memory—see it once, and you remember,” Gu Baiqing said calmly.

What an enviable talent, he thought. Even better than the original master’s.

Mo Xuanli looked at Gu Baiqing in shock. He hadn’t expected someone who usually wouldn’t even glance at him to have been paying such close attention. Having never been truly noticed before, Mo Xuanli found himself momentarily at a loss.

“Master… can I truly become a sword cultivator?”

Gu Baiqing assumed the full posture of a dignified elder, hands clasped behind his back, and solemnly bluffed, “I had you learn other disciplines first not because I rejected your path as a sword cultivator, but because your spiritual roots are naturally unusual. You needed to stabilize yourself through gentler means before taking the path of the sword. Now that you are stable, sword cultivation can become your main goal.”

Of course, Gu Baiqing was completely making this up.

He simply knew the plot—that once Mo Xuanli formed his foundation, his spiritual roots would suppress his demonic bloodline, and his cultivation would take off like a rocket. If he remembered correctly, Mo Xuanli was only one step away from reaching Foundation Establishment.

And this now explained why he hadn’t taught him earlier, but was willing to now. What a noble and far-sighted master, right?

But when he looked over at Mo Xuanli, he froze.

Why the h*ll is this kid giving me those moved, puppy-dog eyes again?!

What is going on in that head of his?

Mo Xuanli blinked, shocked. His eyes stung with a wave of sourness. For the first time—for the first time—someone had considered his situation in such detail.

So that’s why… That’s why Master is willing to teach me now. I misunderstood him. He wasn’t ignoring me—he was thinking carefully about what cultivation path would suit me best.

Things… don’t stay bad forever after all.

Mo Xuanli was suddenly filled with guilt. What those senior brothers had said was wrong. Master… Master was actually a good person.

But just as Mo Xuanli was getting excited, an uneasy thought surfaced: Master said his spiritual roots were unusual—did that mean he’d seen something? What if Master realized he had a hidden demonic nature? Would he treat him like the others—kill him without hesitation?

Mo Xuanli suppressed the unease in his eyes. Don’t scare yourself. If Master really saw something, he wouldn’t keep teaching me. He would already hate me—maybe even want to kill me.

Gu Baiqing didn’t notice Mo Xuanli’s inner thoughts. He was too busy trying to fix his earlier blunder. “That… if you hadn’t stabilized, I was planning to give up on you and let you stay in Flying Crane Pavilion. You improved on your own—had nothing to do with me.”

Cold words, yes—but compared to what Mo Xuanli had feared, they were nothing. The teenager even smiled like sunshine breaking through the clouds.

Gu Baiqing: …so tired.

“Alright, you may leave now,” he said with a wave of his hand.

Mo Xuanli was just about to bow and exit when the sound of a crane’s call came from outside. A celestial crane had circled around from the back and was now drinking from the stream. But Luofeng Pavilion had never kept celestial cranes before.

Mo Xuanli asked curiously, “Master… are you keeping a celestial crane?”

“No. It’s my travel mount,” Gu Baiqing replied. That was what he had ridden back on yesterday—and it had been kind of fun, actually.

Mo Xuanli’s face showed some confusion, his gaze drifting to look for Morning Snow, Gu Baiqing’s usual hairpin, but noticed it wasn’t in his hair today.

Then something flickered in Mo Xuanli’s eyes, and he suddenly realized: today’s Master was different. Not the usual stern, upright figure, but wearing loose robes, long hair down, a languid and at-ease look. After their earlier sparring, his clothes were even slightly disheveled, and his collar had come open to reveal a sliver of pale skin—like cold jade, dazzling to the eyes.

His expression was still stern… but something about him felt different.

Mo Xuanli quickly looked away, feeling that his gaze had been inappropriate, and hurriedly excused himself in a fluster.

Once the male lead left, Gu Baiqing finally let out a breath of relief. So far, it seemed Mo Xuanli hadn’t developed any “feelings” toward him. Still, better to be cautious and plan ahead.

While mentally reviewing the “caring master” tropes, he turned around to find some clothes to wear—only to discover that all of them were made of things like cloud brocade, snow silk, and sheer gauze. So much ethereal white it made his eyes hurt.

He finally managed to get dressed and lifted part of his hair to tie up with a ribbon. Just as he was about to look for Morning Snow to use as a hairpin, a flash of blue light appeared, and Morning Snow flew up and inserted itself into his hair.

Gu Baiqing was startled.

Last night, Morning Snow had dislodged itself when he lay down to sleep. Though it couldn’t yet transform, it was a spirit artifact with an artifact spirit, so it could move around a little on its own. He’d heard artifact spirits had their own personalities, and since he couldn’t sense anything without spiritual energy right now, he was honestly worried this one might have a bad temper—and stab him in the skull if it got pissed off.

He patted Morning Snow cautiously and coaxingly. “Good Morning Snow, don’t stab me.”

After spending a few days adapting to life at Luofeng Pavilion and reviewing all the techniques he could still use without spiritual energy, Gu Baiqing was feeling ready. The day of lessons was drawing near.

Time to go find Second Senior Brother.

He needed money!

Originally, since he’d dumped the disciple off to Flying Crane Pavilion and had no daily expenses himself, it didn’t matter whether he had money. But now that he had to personally teach his disciple, there were going to be a lot of expenses—expenses that, naturally, a master should cover.

But Gu Baiqing wasn’t fazed. According to the original memory, the previous host had basically never spent money, nor had a disciple to support. All the monthly allocations over the years had been taken by the sect to invest—and the returns had been substantial. Since the original didn’t care about money, he didn’t know exactly how much he had either—it had all been handed over to Second Senior Brother to manage.

So now, he was going to see just how much he had saved up.

After stating his purpose, his Second Senior Brother—who was busy managing sect affairs—casually summoned a ledger from thin air and tossed it to him, letting him look for himself.

Gu Baiqing flipped through it and saw that the last page was filled with writing, nearly spilling off the edges.

“Uh… it looks like a lot?” He had no real concept of it, and neither had the original host.

“A lot?” Fu Zhiyi chuckled. “You should know, all of us senior brothers—including the Sect Leader—combined don’t have assets equal to yours. In terms of personal wealth, you’re in the top three of the entire cultivation world.”

Top three… in the entire cultivation world?!!

Gu Baiqing felt like a giant pie had just fallen from the heavens and smacked him on the head. His mind buzzed as he struggled to keep the corners of his lips from turning upward. He knew he was rich—but not this rich.

Cr*p. I can’t stop smiling.

“Junior Brother? What’s wrong?” Fu Zhiyi looked at his awkward expression in confusion.

“I… nothing. I was just thinking, aside from teaching my disciple, I might need to buy a few more things.”

Fu Zhiyi was a bit surprised. This junior brother had always been the aloof, indifferent type. He smiled and said, “Well, it’s rare to hear you make a request. Whatever you need, I’ll have someone take care of it. You just give the order and pay.”

Although Fu Zhiyi often complained about being the sect’s “housekeeper,” Gu Baiqing figured it was probably just his nature. If someone else tried to help him, he’d probably just think they did a bad job.

“First, we need to order a new batch of clothes—all in pure black,” Gu Baiqing said, his first thought.

“…Huh?”

“During training, a spiritual fluctuation tore up all my old ones,” Gu Baiqing lied smoothly.

Apparently, the original host had never lied before, so when Gu Baiqing said that, Fu Zhiyi didn’t suspect a thing. Instead, he asked, “How’s your body feeling?”

“Uh… just unstable spiritual fluctuations.”

“Then that’s fine. Go to the best tailor at Immortal Garment Pavilion. But… why black? Haven’t you always liked white? Said it looked clean and pure?”

Excellent question—he had a full answer ready.

In master-disciple webnovels, the master typically wore three colors: white, blue, and green—all flowy and elegant. Meanwhile, the troublesome disciple usually wore black—stoic, intense, alpha. Black screamed top, white screamed bottom. So naturally, Gu Baiqing was going to flip the trope and go full black.

Black—what’s not to love? Absorbs heat, hides stains, looks powerful and grounded. The very image of a strong, manly man.

With a perfectly straight face, Gu Baiqing said, “Change of color, change of mood.”

Fu Zhiyi didn’t press further. Back in the day, Fourth Junior Brother had been a fearsome presence on the battlefield, and even in white, he gave off a “death shroud” kind of aura. Now, without his spiritual energy, maybe he was just seeking some psychological comfort. Perhaps Fourth Junior Brother’s icy exterior hid a childish heart after all.

Fu Zhiyi nodded kindly, with the air of a doting parent.

“Oh, and I want to replace all the furniture in Luofeng Pavilion.”

Fu Zhiyi: ???

Why does this feel like a sudden bout of revenge spending after striking it rich?

“What’s… wrong with the furniture?”

Excellent question. Every single piece of furniture had been described and used in the audio drama—the bed, the tea table, the chaise, the chairs, the bookshelf, the desk, the doorframe, the window frame, the pillars, the mirror… absolute madness!

Now he had to face these props every day while Mo Xuanli came around to greet him, and all it took was a glance to trigger those scenes. It was like trying to live surrounded by your ex’s belongings—you either toss them or you go crazy. How was he supposed to teach a disciple in that environment and maintain a normal state of mind? He’d have a full-blown breakdown.

If it wouldn’t be too obvious, he’d raze the entire place and rebuild from scratch—even the maple forest outside… okay, the maple forest was too much. But the rest of it? Wipe it clean.

“They’ve just gotten too old and worn.”

Fu Zhiyi: …okay, that’s reasonable, he guessed. All the other pavilions had swapped theirs out multiple times. But hadn’t this junior brother once been fine living in a cave? Why was he suddenly into refined living?

Maybe it’s because he’s raising a disciple now. Rumor had it he was personally teaching the kid now—probably wanted the place to feel comfortable. Looks like Senior Sister’s plan worked. Fourth Junior Brother was finally acting human.

Fu Zhiyi nodded, pleased. “Alright, leave it to me. I’ll get you the best. After all, you’ve got money—splurge all you like.”

“Right, Senior Brother—can a personal disciple live in another disciple’s courtyard?”

Fu Zhiyi: ???

“…I mean, technically, yes…”

“Good. Then I’ll ask Little Junior Brother later to have Mo Xuanli transferred to their Chunyang Pavilion. He’ll live there from now on. His living expenses can be drawn directly from my account and sent to Chunyang Pavilion.”

“Wait—what? Didn’t you just say you were going to teach your little disciple? You’re even redecorating Luofeng Pavilion. Why are you suddenly sending him away?”

What did redecorating have to do with teaching Mo Xuanli?

But that question—was the best one of all.

Luofeng Pavilion. One mountain. One lonely master. One lonely disciple. Living together. Day and night. Teaching hand-in-hand.

Recognize the setup? It was practically begging for a romantic subplot! These past few days, he’d already been walking on eggshells. Love grows with time? Keep dreaming!

“Daily lessons won’t take long. Sword cultivation requires more than theory and forms—it needs actual combat. But Luofeng Pavilion has no other disciples. I’ve lost my spiritual energy and can’t spar with him. Chunyang Pavilion is focused on sword cultivation. It’s the best place for him.”

In fact, when he thought about it, Mo Xuanli’s personality already had some issues—he really ought to interact more with his peers. Moving to the disciples’ courtyard to live alongside others and make some friends would surely be livelier. There was no need for him to stay in the cold and desolate Luofeng Pavilion.

Fu Zhiyi thought it over and realized it made sense. “Alright then, let Mo Xuanli move to Chunyang Pavilion. But I think it’s best if you personally explain your condition to your disciple. Even if your situation must be kept from outsiders, he’s your only personal disciple—he has a right to know.”

Gu Baiqing nodded. Once formal lessons started, he wouldn’t be able to hide it anyway. Better to let the boy know upfront, so he understands he’ll have to rely on himself. After all, his master was already half-crippled, so he’d better study hard and level up quickly.

Meanwhile, Mo Xuanli—who had taken his medicine and was quickly recovering, full of hopeful anticipation for bonding with his master—had no idea that during the short time he stepped out to eat, everything had changed. Just as he was about to argue with some new peers over how great his master was, Tang Yu slung an arm over his shoulders and said cheerfully:

“Bro! I heard! Your master’s letting you move into our Chunyang Pavilion—awesome! From now on, we’ll be living together!”

Mo Xuanli’s expression changed drastically. His once-warm heart instantly turned to ice.

“…What?”

Master… wants to send me away?