Gu Baiqing: “System, help.”
System: [“After detection, no danger found, no resources available for exchange. Host must handle independently.”]
This—this is still called ‘no crisis’?
Gu Baiqing looked at the bed. Mo Xuanli, who could only calm down while holding Three Bean, now had his head in his hands, utterly troubled.
According to Three Bean’s memories, it had been separated from Mo Xuanli during the Celestial-Demon War, but at that time it had not yet evolved to the point of speaking human language.
“So Xuanli is effectively six years old now?” Jingzhan tilted his head, curiously studying Mo Xuanli. Though sympathetic, he couldn’t help finding it oddly amusing. “Qingrong, is there any way to heal him?”
“No. We just have to wait. He’ll recover soon. Aside from some inconvenience during this period, there’s no other issue. I thought it would be memory confusion, but it’s full amnesia,” Xie Qingrong said after examining him.
Jingzhan couldn’t help asking, “When he recovers, will he remember losing his memory and turning into a child?”
Xie Qingrong looked at Jingzhan. “Why do you ask?”
His tone suggested he already guessed Jingzhan’s intention—to tease little Xuanli.
“Whatever you’re planning, let’s see if his brother agrees too.”
Jingzhan paused, then glanced at Gu Baiqing with a sheepish smile.
Only then did Xie Qingrong speak: “Because this is a period of consciousness disorder, when he recovers, he won’t remember what happened. I’ve read about cases like this—it’s rare. The only example I know involved a demon who fell into a Soul-Seizing Array. Back then, I thought cultivators and demons reacted differently, but apparently it’s random.”
“Why can he accept you, this strange jade doll, but not me and Brother Mo?” Jingzhan said with frustration. Even more frustrating was that Mo Xuanli seemed most afraid of him.
“Perhaps he was persecuted by cultivators before?” Xie Qingrong analyzed from Mo Xuanli’s fragmented words.
Upon hearing this, little Xuanli looked up. His eyes were pure like a child’s, yet filled with deep unease and wariness.
Earlier, hearing Three Bean speak had already startled him. Then realizing the cat he raised was actually a demon beast terrified him even more, and discovering his body had changed made him panic.
Three Bean told him he was eighteen, and that those people were his companions. He refused to believe it—he was a human-demon hybrid, how could he have companions? Unless they didn’t know about his hybrid nature. But cultivators should be able to tell. So he suspected everything before him might be an illusion crafted to torment him.
One thing he was certain of: whatever the reason, these people in front of him would not kill him for now.
The six-year-old Xuanli considered everything in his mind, listening silently to their conversation.
Suddenly he heard the one with the red flame mark, called Jingzhan, speak: “Older Brother Mo, aren’t you his real elder brother? Why is he so wary of you, doesn’t remember you?”
Little Xuanli’s heart tightened. Older Brother Mo? Impossible—he had no brother. That black-robed cultivator was lying. But why? What did he want from him?
Gu Baiqing felt awkward at the question. Revealing his identity now would be even more awkward. Moreover, it reminded Gu Baiqing that he could not let Xie Qingrong and Jingzhan spend too long with Mo Xuanli. A six-year-old Xuanli wasn’t clever enough to hide everything—he might reveal too much in front of them.
“He was adopted later, not a real brother,” Gu Baiqing casually replied.
Jingzhan suddenly realized Mo Xuanli and Gu Baiqing’s relationship was suspicious. Since they didn’t want to explain, Jingzhan didn’t press it, simply nodding. “Oh, I see.” But inwardly he was filled with curiosity about this inexplicable intimacy between them, imagining all sorts of possibilities.
“Since things have come to this, I’ll watch over Xuanli. You take care of outside matters,” Gu Baiqing said.
Thus, the tasks were divided: Gu Baiqing stayed with Mo Xuanli at the Wen estate, while Jingzhan and Xie Qingrong went to handle matters with the Immortal Statue.
Jingzhan laughed, teasingly lifting Xie Qingrong: “Older Brother Mo, we’re both unfortunate—one takes care of a child, the other a doll. Let’s support each other.”
After Jingzhan left with Xie Qingrong, Gu Baiqing exhaled, then looked worriedly at Mo Xuanli on the bed.
“Xuanli, you…”
“Are you my older brother?” little Xuanli asked directly, his black eyes deep yet filled with childlike clarity.
Gu Baiqing fell silent. Since Mo Xuanli would forget later anyway, he decided to coax him: “Maybe you don’t believe me now, but I really am your adopted elder brother. We are close. If you don’t believe me, ask Three Bean. Three Bean was your gift to me as a contracted beast.”
Gu Baiqing spoke nonsense but tried to make it sound plausible. Three Bean nodded, confused.
But little Xuanli’s expression remained unchanged. Instead, he asked: “Brother, can I be alone for a while?”
Gu Baiqing knew Xuanli didn’t believe him and decided to comply, not wanting to frighten him. But before leaving, he gave Three Bean a look—call for help if anything happened.
Gu Baiqing never expected that, noticing their exchange, Xuanli would stop trusting Three Bean. After all, a cat turning into a demon beast was suspicious. He wouldn’t forget that demon beasts could devour him. Thoughtful little Xuanli, once Gu Baiqing left, lulled Three Bean to sleep.
After Three Bean fell asleep and Xuanli adapted to his new body—long arms, long legs, broad shoulders, slim waist—he climbed out the window and escaped.
By the time Three Bean awoke to call for help, Xuanli had already been gone for unknown hours.
Now, little Xuanli gripped his dagger tightly, running alone into the street. He treated everything before him as an illusion. He knew illusions always had flaws—finding one meant escape. He could not be deceived by false kindness. They must want something from him. He would never again be whipped, tortured, or face death. He had to survive.
His face hardened. He remained wary of everyone on the street, skulking along walls like a little thief, tense and alert to his surroundings.
Suddenly, he passed a bun stall where customers were quarreling. A bitten bun fell to the ground, attracting the attention of a big yellow dog. Xuanli instinctively fixed his gaze on the bun. He swallowed hard. Before the dog could pounce, he lunged forward with wild speed, snatching the dusty bun. Like a feral dog, he darted into an alley, giving neither the dog nor the stall owner a chance to catch him.
When he came to his senses, he found himself dazed, staring at the bun in an adult’s hand that now seemed several sizes too small. Only then did he realize it might not be real—grabbing it wouldn’t help.
But if yesterday’s memory was correct, he hadn’t eaten in three days while fleeing for his life. He was very hungry…
Naturally, such strange behavior would quickly attract attention.
Some street thugs, seeing someone acting oddly and fighting a dog for food, but dressed well—as if he were wealthy—thought he must be a fool, and stepped forward to test him.
Little Xuanli often encountered such people while fleeing. He took it as part of the illusion tormenting him. But he wasn’t afraid of being bullied—after all, they couldn’t kill him. Moreover, his body was now larger; maybe he could resist. Instinctively, he pressed the bun into his chest to protect it.
When someone approached, he tried to throw a punch. It landed hard, sending the man crashing into the wall and spewing blood. That scene startled little Xuanli. Taking advantage of the crowd’s shock, he fled quickly.
The illusion baffled him more and more, and panic grew in his heart.
At that moment, he suddenly froze—his limbs as if being pulled into a deeper alley.
Looking up, he saw a figure cloaked entirely in black, with only a pair of red eyes visible.
Red eyes… Demon clan!
A terrible memory surged within him. Instinctively, he raised his dagger and charged.
The figure hesitated slightly, then kicked him, sending little Xuanli sprawling. The dagger flew into the air, caught by the figure’s hand.
“Caught in a Soul-Seizing Array? Are you stupid?” the figure said, puzzled, then laughed. “So be it. Your luck’s run out. Let’s turn you into a puppet. Living control or dead control? Dead control’s easier.”
He flicked his hand. The dagger transformed into a killing blade and flew toward little Xuanli’s heart. Xuanli retreated desperately, but a wall loomed behind him—there was nowhere to escape.
Clenching his fists, pupils narrowing, Xuanli suddenly heard a bang. God Nine Transformations transformed into an umbrella-like shield, soaring up to block the blade and counterattack the demon clan member.
But without a master’s spiritual power to support it, even a celestial-grade God Nine Transformations Transformation had its limits. It was soon struck aside.
Before Xuanli could recover from the blow, the demon clan member grabbed his neck, hoisting him up like a helpless child.
At such moments, a surge of power should have burst from within him—he could never control it, but it could save him. Yet now, nearly suffocating, he felt nothing. It was as if something blocked that power.
He thought: it must be an illusion. Was he to experience the pain of being strangled within the illusion? That would be childish—he was used to such torment, and could even recall the exact sequence of pain from near death by strangulation.
But as the choking intensified, his neck cracking painfully as if cut by a blade, even illusions terrified him.
Still, even if it were an illusion, he did not want to die—not want to die! So he struggled desperately, though suffocation sapped his strength almost entirely.
Father… Mother… Who will save me… No, no one can… Everyone wants me dead.
Yes, no one wants him to live. His existence was forbidden. So why did he stubbornly want to live? What was he trying to prove? What was he struggling for? Was he hoping for a miracle?
Yet his world would never get better. Perhaps it was better to die—death would end the pain.
The choking darkened his vision. A sense of grievance rose in his heart. Tears blurred his eyes. His soul felt barren and exhausted.
But he did not know that the hand around his neck was losing strength—because black mist was wrapping around it.
The demon clan member looked confused. Suddenly, there was a crackle in the air.
The one he held seemed to tremble instinctively.
Then a streak of blue cold light, crackling with arcs of electricity, flashed past. The demon clan member instinctively withdrew, but too late—his arm was slashed, blood spraying instantly.
Fixing his gaze, he saw a blue celestial-grade flying sword.
The demon clan member leapt back.
A dark figure descended before them.
Little Xuanli felt his neck loosen. He gasped deeply for air, falling from the wall—yet he did not crash heavily to the ground. Instead, he landed in a warm embrace.
The sensation was so real that little Xuanli felt dazed.
Every time he escaped death, it had been through pain, either desperate flight or a scene of corpses and blood.
This was the first time he felt something utterly different.
Warmth… and the scent of cold plum blossoms.
What was this? It was… Little Xuanli coughed, opening his eyes, seeing clearly through tears. As if his heart already knew the answer.
It was the one who claimed to be his brother.
He had saved him?
Not only had he saved him, but held him tightly. Who would embrace a filthy human-demon hybrid? Shouldn’t they kick or stab him—at worst crush him with a stone? How could they just hold him?
Little Xuanli stared blankly at Gu Baiqing, feeling everything was unreal.
At that moment, Gu Baiqing was furious, holding Morning Snow toward the figure. But the other lowered his head, completely cloaked in black, identity concealed.
“Who are you?”
No answer. It seemed the figure sensed Gu Baiqing’s hesitation, unwilling to unleash a heavy attack to avoid harming nearby civilians.
Gu Baiqing saw the figure raise both hands. They bore bracelets identical to Hua En’s. Gu Baiqing shouted, “Hua En!”
The figure moved its fingers, as if controlling something—but no puppet strings were visible. In the next moment, behind them came a rumbling. Gu Baiqing realized with shock that the wall behind had been completely pulled down by the figure.
By the time he reacted, Gu Baiqing could only scoop Mo Xuanli into his arms, dart out from the jumble of rocks, and leap up onto a rooftop. Looking down again, the alley was already empty.
Gu Baiqing cursed inwardly. This was his first time watching over the child, and he’d failed. Covered in dust and disheveled, he hurried out to search for him. Thankfully, with their master-disciple bond, finding Mo Xuanli wasn’t difficult. But he hadn’t expected the “Hua En” from the original text to be so ruthless—halfway through his search he’d been alerted that Mo Xuanli was in danger. Clearly, the other side had meant to kill.
What shocked Gu Baiqing even more was that Mo Xuanli hadn’t been able to fight back at all. Could it be that his consciousness had really reverted to six years old, along with all his skills?
It seemed from now on he couldn’t let this kid out of his sight.
“How is it? Are you hurt anywhere?” After landing with Mo Xuanli, Gu Baiqing immediately examined him anxiously.
Three Bean retrieved the God Nine Transformations and scolded Mo Xuanli furiously: “Xuanli, you’ve gone too far. I’m your Three Bean! You didn’t even trust me—you sneaked off all on your own. What on earth were you thinking?!”
At this moment, little Xuanli only stared blankly at Gu Baiqing.
He saw the ash from the wall tangled in his black hair, the red scratch left by a pebble on his cheek, and on his raised wrist, the wound from the dagger earlier still faintly visible.
It had been this person who risked himself to save him, who hadn’t let go even as the wall collapsed, but instead shielded him in his arms and carried him away from danger.
Was this person really something created by an illusion?
Why?
Why trick him like this, making him believe that in this world someone would truly be willing to treat him well—to protect him?
In an instant, Mo Xuanli’s tears spilled over, startling Gu Baiqing. He hastily sent his spiritual sense to check him.
Impossible… it must be fake. It had to be fake.
“Xuanli! Speak—did your throat get crushed?” Gu Baiqing, panicked, reached out toward the boy’s neck.
At that instant, the just-strangled little Xuanli went cold down his spine, body stiff, instinctively wanting to flee. But when the cool fingertips brushed the burning pain at his throat, he felt as if frozen—snapped into clarity for a moment.
Such a gentle touch, as if afraid of hurting him.
How could anyone treat him like this? So carefully, so tenderly.
Even if it was an illusion, it shouldn’t be possible.
But what if it was real?
What if everything they said was real—he really had grown up, really had met someone willing to stand at his side, really had… an elder brother.
If it was real… Mo Xuanli’s pupils trembled violently. When he blinked, the pitch-black eyes reflected only a clear, concerned face.
“Brother?” he whispered suddenly, as if afraid of waking something.
Gu Baiqing froze. Because of the choking, the boy’s voice was hoarse, but it carried deep unease and probing.
“You really are my brother?” Little Xuanli fixed his black-and-white eyes on Gu Baiqing, as if the answer he was about to get was a matter of life and death.
Gu Baiqing could see the child wanting to believe him. He nodded. “Mm. I am. So don’t be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you.”
“Then will you protect me?” Xuanli asked urgently. “Will you stay with me forever?”
Gu Baiqing hadn’t expected the child-version of Mo Xuanli to be so direct. Looking at the grown man’s body showing a six-year-old’s innocent expression, asking such simple questions, Gu Baiqing almost wanted to make a joke, but found him heartbreakingly endearing instead.
He took a deep breath and nodded. “Mm.”
“Even if lots of people want to kill me, even if everyone wants me dead, even if you know that I… I… I shouldn’t even be alive, you still…” Xuanli’s voice choked off.
Originally only intending to placate a child, Gu Baiqing was suddenly swept up by his mood. His emotions surged. “Who said you shouldn’t live? You can live. You must live. I’m your brother. I’ll protect you. I’ll stay with you.”
“Really? Pinky swear!” Little Xuanli jumped up, holding his hand out stubbornly in front of Gu Baiqing. “You can’t lie to me. You absolutely can’t lie to me.”
Though Gu Baiqing was looking up at Mo Xuanli, it felt like he was looking down at a six-year-old desperately clutching at his last lifeline.
His heart felt as if an invisible hand had seized it hard.
No matter how childish the act, at this moment Gu Baiqing sincerely played along. Under little Xuanli’s expectant gaze, he reached out and hooked his pinky around the boy’s.
Though his own fingers were longer and stronger, right now they felt fragile and helpless.
This really was the six-year-old Mo Xuanli.
As soon as Gu Baiqing hooked his finger, Mo Xuanli clung tightly, as if afraid the “brother” in front of him would run away, refusing to let go. Only after confirming the pinky swear did he tremble and release him.
Gu Baiqing came back to himself, a little awkward, about to speak—when Mo Xuanli suddenly threw himself at him, wrapping him in a hug.
“Brother… why did you come only now? Why didn’t you show up earlier?”
Gu Baiqing was stunned. He didn’t know what Mo Xuanli was asking. Was it about just now—or something far longer ago?
“No… it doesn’t matter… you’re here now. Just don’t leave me alone again.”
Gu Baiqing drew a deep breath. He heard Mo Xuanli crying—crying simply, like a child. Wronged, so he cried; sad, so he cried; crying out loud and free as if he’d never done so before, as if now he knew the person he’d just made a promise with could hold his grief and his hurt.
He didn’t have to hide and cry alone in a dark corner anymore. He didn’t have to hold his sobs in. He didn’t have to think no one would pity him, that crying was useless.
Now he had someone—someone he could cling to and cry with.
He no longer cared if this was real or fake.
Even if it was all fake, he had already all but given up resisting. As long as in this moment it felt real, that was enough.
But Gu Baiqing’s mood gradually sank under the weight of the boy’s tears. He couldn’t help but feel as if the tears of a six-year-old Mo Xuanli were about to drown him.
At seven, eight, ten years old… until he came under his tutelage, until now—how many tears had Mo Xuanli accumulated over all those years? Where had he released them?
Gu Baiqing had never thought to pity Mo Xuanli. In the past, he thought it unnecessary. Later, he didn’t dare. He didn’t want to dwell too deeply on Mo Xuanli’s life.
Yet as little Xuanli cried, Gu Baiqing’s heartbeat quickened. Slowly, he raised his arms and pulled Mo Xuanli into an embrace—as though through time itself, he was holding the six-year-old boy who had been buffeted by storms and suffering since childhood.
If only he had… come earlier.
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