After Becoming a High-Risk Master, I Flipped the Script Chapter 83

Wu Hongxi carried Lu Sulan out on her back. Seeing the two “brothers” standing together, she asked, puzzled, “So we’ll just leave those people? Anyway, tonight’s bound to erupt into chaos. I’ll take Sister Lan back first. You coming?”

Gu Baiqing was about to speak when he felt his sleeve tugged. That heavy pull was just like the weight in his heart.

“You go on ahead,” Gu Baiqing said after a moment of silence, his voice low. Sure enough, as soon as he spoke, the grip on his sleeve loosened, as if someone had just breathed out in relief.

Wu Hongxi didn’t press further. She only nodded and left.

Gu Baiqing turned back to see Mo Xuanli’s head lowered once again. With a trace of helplessness he asked, “What is it you want to do?”

“Brother, shall we go release river lanterns?” Little Xuanli’s voice was soft as the wind. “We don’t have to write names.”

He wasn’t stupid. He had seen that Gu Baiqing had wanted to refuse earlier, understood that brother didn’t want to be his dao-companion. He had begged, he had tried, but brother wouldn’t agree. He didn’t want to make him uncomfortable anymore. But still, he wanted to set lanterns with him.

Gu Baiqing let out a silent sigh. In the end, his heart softened to compromise. Just treat it as humoring a child. Anyway… anyway, he wouldn’t remember later. It didn’t count as being tricked. He could only comfort himself this way.

“Write it, if it makes you happy.”

“No. I want you to be happy too. If it makes you unhappy, I won’t write.” Little Xuanli drooped in dismay.

Seeing the child’s dejection, Gu Baiqing couldn’t bear it. After all, the one before him was not Mo Xuanli, but Little Xuanli. “I… am happy. If someone is willing to stay by me for life, how could I not be happy?”

Little Xuanli’s eyes lit up instantly. “Really?”

Gu Baiqing breathed out slowly. Yes, this bright, lively expression was the one that suited Little Xuanli’s face. The older Mo Xuanli, though always kind, rarely showed such unrestrained joy or sorrow. Everything was always hidden, restrained, suppressed.

Let it be like a dream.

“Mm. Come on.” Gu Baiqing took Little Xuanli back to the riverbank. Xuanli pulled a river lantern from his storage pouch and borrowed brush and ink from nearby.

When Gu Baiqing saw him write down “Mo Bai,” he froze for a moment, but didn’t correct him. Perhaps this was best. Even if the lantern had spirit, a false name would be useless.

Still, when he saw Little Xuanli place the lantern down with such devotion, he felt a strange tug at his heart.

The two of them walked along the riverbank, following the drifting lantern. By now, the crowd had thinned; most had already followed the parade to the Immortal Temple. But along the river, plenty of lanterns still floated.

Those river lanterns hadn’t made it past the stone shoals. Sure enough, whether they could reach the center of the lake really depended on fate.

Seeing Little Xuanli frowning beside him, fists clenched, nerves taut, Gu Baiqing, to make up for the matter of the false name, exchanged points, lifted his hand, and let a surge of spiritual power fall into the river. At once, their lanterns advanced as if guided by an invisible helmsman, cutting straight through the double obstruction of shoals and other lanterns, without slowing in the least, until they passed the barrier and drifted toward the center of the lake.

The whole time, Little Xuanli kept his eyes wide, hardly daring to breathe. In the end, when he saw his lantern reach the heart of the lake and merge with the others, brightening the water’s surface, the sight was nothing short of miraculous.

Overcome with excitement, his face flushed, Little Xuanli spun around and flung himself into Gu Baiqing’s arms. “Brother! It’s heaven’s will! We’ll be together forever!”

Glancing around and seeing no one nearby, Gu Baiqing allowed him his outburst of childish affection, patting his back. “Alright? Happy now?”

Xuanli’s eyes were red from emotion. He let go, staring at Gu Baiqing deeply. All at once something stirred in his chest, some force compelling him to speak.

But then, from the middle of the lake, came a bubbling sound.

Both turned to look. Their lantern, just as it was about to join the main cluster, suddenly toppled with a splash—and not just theirs. An entire row nearby flipped and sank, clearly swept under by an unseen current from the lakebed.

Gu Baiqing hadn’t expected such ill fortune. His expression darkened imperceptibly. Perhaps he had withdrawn his power too soon. He was just about to comfort Little Xuanli—

When, in a flash of white, the boy leapt straight into the water with a splash.

“Xuanli!” Gu Baiqing shouted. But by the time he reacted, it was too late to catch him.

The child broke the surface, turned back once with steady gaze, then without a word swam toward where the lantern had vanished. His intent was all too clear.

Seeing how easily he moved in the water, unaffected by his young body or mind, Gu Baiqing exhaled in relief.

Yet the next moment, watching what he did, Gu Baiqing’s chest tightened as though a stone were pressing down on it.

Xuanli dove among the scattered lanterns. Soon he surfaced, holding one aloft. Gu Baiqing thought he’d found it and breathed easier—only to see him glance once, then release it and plunge again.

Indeed, there were many that had sunk. To think he would be lucky enough to grasp the right one at once was impossible.

Again and again, two, three, five, eight times—he dove in the freezing winter waters, shivering violently. Only then did Gu Baiqing realize: though the dharma robes could ward off harm, they didn’t keep out cold or wet. And Xuanli didn’t know yet how to use spiritual power to warm himself. This was no different from torture in ice water.

Alarmed, Gu Baiqing shouted, “Xuanli, come back! Stop searching!”

“No! Brother, wait a little longer—I’ll definitely find it!” Xuanli gulped a breath and dived again, stubbornly refusing to give up.

Seeing him so determined made Gu Baiqing’s heart ache. As soon as he surfaced, Gu Baiqing urged anxiously, “We can buy another lantern. Come back up.”

But for once, Xuanli refused to listen. “No. It has to be that one.” And down he went again.

It had to be that lantern—the one with both their names. The one that had drifted safely here, symbolizing they could always be together. If it sank, then the prayer would lose its power.

The obstinacy of a child was beyond what adults could imagine.

The lanterns above barely lit the water. From below, one could only faintly glimpse those that had sunk, never make out the writing. So all he could do was keep trying.

Suddenly Xuanli spotted one tangled in weeds. Beneath it yawned a dark hole, ceaselessly swallowing lake water. If not for the weeds holding it, the lantern would already be gone. The characters on it seemed familiar—the “Mo” full of strokes, the “Bai” simple and spare. Together, the contrast was clear.

That one gave him the greatest hope. He swam toward it at once.

But it was far. As he neared, his breath was almost gone. Only a little more—he stretched out desperately. The weeds looked ready to snap, the lantern could be swept away any moment. He couldn’t let it slip past.

Yet just as he was within reach, he could endure no longer. Bubbles spilled from his mouth, his body’s instinctive terror of death forcing him upward. Still, his gaze locked on that lantern—so close, yet about to vanish forever.

Through blurred vision, he watched his hand fail to grasp it, despair flooding in.

At that instant, another hand darted past his arm, reaching for the lantern.

Stunned, he turned his head—Gu Baiqing was there, sweeping by, seizing the lantern in one hand and hauling him swiftly back up to the surface.

The instant they broke into air, Xuanli coughed violently, choking up lake water. At last he opened his eyes. “Brother…”

“You really are a disobedient child.” Gu Baiqing held him close, floating on the water. Both were drenched, but Xuanli was pale and haggard, and under his rebuke hung his head like a soaked little dog just pulled out and scolded by its master.

Then Gu Baiqing looked at the lantern in his hand. On the side facing him were the three characters “Mo Xuanli.” With a faint blink, the sodden lantern dried at once, its flame rekindling.

The sudden glow lit Xuanli’s face, and he lifted his head in astonishment.

But Gu Baiqing didn’t hand it over. Instead, he pushed it along, sending it drifting back toward where it belonged. This time it merged smoothly with the others, no longer straggling behind.

“See? It’s done,” Gu Baiqing murmured.

Xuanli stared blankly, then choked up. First joy, then fright, then desperate searching—so close, yet unreachable. It felt like heaven itself was playing tricks on him, toying with his heart.

It had taken so much effort for his brother to finally agree to write their names and set the lantern afloat together. If it failed, such an ending would be unbearably cruel, as if Heaven itself were declaring that no matter how good a brother he had, he would never be worthy of someone to accompany him for a lifetime. One day, his brother would abandon him too, leaving him all alone.

But then his brother appeared again—he retrieved the lantern, changed everything, and made his wish come true.

With such a good brother, how could he ever make sure to keep him forever?

“What are you crying for? Didn’t it succeed? It was you who found it,” Gu Baiqing said softly to comfort him. “Come on, let’s get back to shore.”

“Brother…” Little Xuanli lifted his head to look at Gu Baiqing, his voice low. “Brother, do I like you?”

Gu Baiqing, just about to take him back to shore, froze. “What?”

“I… the real me, when I’m eighteen—do I have someone I like? Is it you I like?” Little Xuanli asked seriously.

Gu Baiqing’s heart gave a jolt of panic. “No… impossible.”

But Little Xuanli shook his head. “I think if it were me, I’d definitely like you even more than now. More than all other likes added together.”

Gu Baiqing’s chest gave a sudden thump. He stared blankly at Little Xuanli’s tear-drenched eyes—so dark they seemed to hold no light—and at his unwavering tone, as if he had already determined what his heart would be in the future. For a moment, Gu Baiqing almost believed him.

But how could a child’s feelings be equated with an adult’s?

Just as Gu Baiqing was about to speak, Little Xuanli suddenly leaned in, arms wrapped around his neck. Caught off guard, Gu Baiqing’s pupils contracted as he felt a soft, cool touch on his lips.

Watching his spiritual power gauge flicker, Gu Baiqing found himself utterly unable to react—his mind went blank.

“Brother, I like you. I don’t know what I’ll be like once I recover, but I still want to be your dao-companion. Brother, you don’t have anyone you like, right? Then like me. Let’s get married, alright?”

Gu Baiqing stared dumbly at the boy before him. Little Xuanli, after speaking, broke into a dazzling smile, as though trying to show off all the best of himself.

“Brother, please, promise me. Really… please.”

Word by word, his desperate wish turned hoarse, tugging at Gu Baiqing’s very soul. In that radiant yet gradually fragile expression, Gu Baiqing seemed to lose himself, and with a daze, he nodded.

Little Xuanli was instantly overjoyed, hugging Gu Baiqing tightly, as if no matter how he held him, it was never enough.

“Thank you, Brother. I’ll remember it. I’ll remember. You’re not allowed to forget either. In the future, we will get married.”

Little Xuanli had no idea that once he recovered, he would forget all of this. He only thought that since Brother had agreed, perhaps they could start preparing for the wedding as early as tomorrow—like those newlyweds he had seen, bowing before the hall and becoming husband and wife. Thinking about it, his vision darkened; suddenly he felt so sleepy. But he couldn’t bear to leave Brother—he wanted to look at him a little longer.

A cool kiss fell upon his forehead.

His brother’s voice came.

“Sleep now. Good night.”

Finally, Little Xuanli stopped resisting and sank into slumber.

Gu Baiqing knew—this was the sign that the aftereffects of the Spirit-Seizing Array were about to end.

The icy water snapped Gu Baiqing awake, making everything just now feel like a dream. He didn’t even know why things had turned out this way.

All he could say was that everything had been to coax a child. Could it even be called lying when an adult deceived a child? It was just not wanting to see the child upset, noisy, and hurt.

Anyway, a child’s memory was limited. He wouldn’t remember.

Gu Baiqing glanced at the lantern, then withdrew his gaze, clutching the unconscious Mo Xuanli tighter. Like a thief, he looked around; seeing that indeed there was no one else by the lakeshore, he leapt swiftly out of the water. Using qinggong, he landed on shore.

By the time he set him down, the water on both of them had already been evaporated by Gu Baiqing’s spiritual power. He never thought that the spiritual energy he usually hoarded so stingily would be squandered on coaxing a child like this. He could only be speechless at himself.

From the direction of the Immortal Temple came a great commotion—Jingzhan and the others had already begun their move. The night would be a long one, but there was no need for them to do anything more. It was time to go back.

When Mo Xuanli awoke, it was already dawn. Dazed, he pressed his forehead, his head unbearably heavy. Looking carefully, he saw this was a place he didn’t recognize at all. His guard instantly shot up, and instinctively he reached for the master-disciple bond to sense his master’s presence.

As soon as he confirmed that his master was in the next room, not far away, he immediately rose to go find him.

But his movement woke Three Bean, who had been sleeping at the foot of the bed.

“Xuanli, you’re awake?”

Mo Xuanli turned and looked at Three Bean, frowning slightly. Shouldn’t Three Bean be with his master?

Three Bean trotted over to nuzzle him, looking up. “Recovered? So now you’re the eighteen-year-old Xuanli again?”

Mo Xuanli’s brows knitted tighter. Hearing the question, he knew at once that something must have happened. He quickly asked, “What happened to me? Did I do something? What is Master doing now?”