It was summer and heat radiated from the ground in waves.
Summertime in the north was normally bearable, especially compared to the south, but this year, Gui Yin felt as if his skin would melt from his body every time he stepped outside. The sun seemed to be targeting him. Even in the shade, he was unable to escape. As he was slowly fried in the crippling heat, he thought longingly about the cool creak, not too far away. He longed to remain there all day long, even if it meant his skin pruned and that he would succumb to his eventual death.
Kui Wanming rolled his eyes, slapped a wide-brimmed straw hat onto his disciple’s head after listening to his poetic prose.
“So dramatic.”
“I’m not being dramatic, Shizun!” Gui Yin whined. He pulled back the collar of his robes. “Look! I’m sweating. Sweating! I’ve cultivated for eight years and this is the first time I’ve seen sweat.”
“Now, you’re just lying.”
“It’s true! I’m dying. Shizun, have pity on your dearest disciple—”
“Who said you’re my dearest?”
“—don’t make me train today, alright?”
“So, this was your goal?” Kui Wanming stared at Gui Yin.
The teenager looked at him hopefully, with those beautiful watery eyes. Such lovely looks were wasted on this youth, who had such a cunning personality.
But who could Kui Wanming blame but himself? When he first found Gui Yin, the child was as clear as the stream. He didn’t tell lies, was contentious in his actions, and was overly caring about most people. These were all qualities that reminded Kui Wanming of his old lover—which was why he was determined to make sure Gui Yin was not like him at all. He was determined to make this sweet child stronger so that he wouldn’t succumb to the world’s darkness.
And he succeeded. But at the price of his sweet little disciple.
“Even if you’re disappointed in me, I still don’t want to train,” Gui Yin said, completely seeing through the dull look in Kui Wanming’s eyes.
“I brought you all the way to Fuyun Manor because you said you’d have an easier time cultivating here and now you’re telling me you don’t even want to train?”
“Shizun, you said yourself that I can’t form a Golden Core too early. This disciple is already in late-stage Core Formation. What if I get stuck this young? Won’t I get bullied?” Gui Yin pointed out.
“…I’m sure you’re my karmic debt from another life.”
“Did Shizun offend someone in a past life?” Gui Yin innocently asked.
Kui Wanming slowly closed his eyes. He pushed down his irritation and slowly sighed. “Forget it. You go off and have fun. I’m going to spend the day with your Shimu.”
Gui Yin’s eyes lit up. “Then, tell him I said hi!”
Kui Wanming shook his head, watching as Gui Yin shot off. Karma. Really, he was his life’s karmic debt.
Gui Yin ran down the stairs faster than when he had to run laps. A light giggle left his lips as he headed for the river that was closer towards the entrance of the mountain.
Zhaolu Mountain was one of Gui Yin’s favorite places to be. The skies seemed to always be clear and the maple trees were always red. It was like Shuangye Peak but a million times more magnificent and a thousand times quieter. Here, he would have just his shizun to himself. He didn’t have to take care of any of his younger martial siblings and he wasn’t bothered by that Ye Liuxing to explain certain concepts or sword forms.
Here, on Zhaolu Mountain, he was free.
Gui Yin abandoned the path and headed for the river. He was ready to swim for the entire day, but Heavens always had other plans for him.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
Without a second thought, he abandoned his sword by the riverbank and jumped into the water. He managed to grab a hold of the small, floating body and pull him back to shore.
He irritably pushed his wet hair from his face and turned the boy over.
The boy was riddled with wounds all over. His small face had been beaten into an unrecognizable state. Even from a stranger’s standpoint, Gui Yin found this unnecessarily cruel. As he carried the boy and rushed back to Fuyun Manor, the scene of the red maple leaves made him pause. The body in his arms felt a little less realistic. His steps slowed when he was halfway up the steps and he came to a complete stop.
Why was he at Fuyun Manor? Where was he going? Was he going to find his shizun?
But Kui Wanming was already dead.
And he was no longer sixteen.
He had just wandered into Ghost Valley.
Wasn’t he dead?
Was Lin Cangyuan okay?
Where was he now?
This had to be a dream, right?
In front of him, two figures floated into his field of vision. He could just barely make out their worried expressions. His lips moved—probably to comfort them—but he couldn’t even hear himself clearly. All he could think about was the boy in his arms now. Was the boy okay? Did he end up getting back to Fuyun Manor with him? This was the little boy he had abandoned, right? The boy whose name was…was…
“A-Xia!”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
Gui Yin sat up abruptly. His long hair cascaded down his back as he tried to catch his breath. He felt as if he had been forced to run until his lungs collapsed in. For a moment, the chill in his body refused to subside. Only a while later could he gather his thoughts, but then a familiar feeling of disconnect dawned on him.
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Pc ojma, ab mjii la j gbbw kjr atf ugfjafra ecvfgrajafwfca. Pa kjr ijguf—wjsyf aklmf atf rlhf bo Xel Tlc’r bkc yfvgbbw yjmx bc Vtejcusf Ufjx. Ktf yfv mbeiv qgbyjyis ola afc qfbqif jcv atf megajlcr atja vgjqf vbkc kfgf olcjiis kbnfc klat mgjoarwjcrtlq atja bcis rqlvfg rqlglar mbeiv jmtlfnf. Caajmtfv ab atf gbbw kjr j gbecvfv yjimbcs atja fzafcvfv bea, rlwlijg ab atf bcf lc Itfcusjcu Vtjc Vfma’r yelivlcu. Ktfgf kjr j mtfrr rfa rlaalcu bc atf yjimbcs, jr kfii jr j mbwobgajyif ibbxlcu vlnjc.
Opulent was one way to describe this room. It was definitely fit for a king.
His gaze finally drifted down to the man who had been silently watching him this entire time. Recognition flashed through his eyes as a sense of annoyance bubbled up in him.
Gui Yin raised a brow as he observed Erlang’s sprawled out form. “What are you looking?”
“The morning scenery,” the man smoothly replied.
Gui Yin scoffed. He recounted the time they had spent together and couldn’t help but venomously ask, “Was it fun?
Erlang’s lips slowly lifted. “Mn. It was very fun.”
“How did you know where I was?” Gui Yin asked.
Erlang grinned. He sat up on his knees and leaned forward on the bed. Gui Yin glanced at the arms that practically caged him in and leaned back to put some distance between the two of them.
“The stars told me.”
“What a fancy way to describe stalking,” Gui Yin said.
Erlang chuckled. “I merely kept an eye on you. Besides, shouldn’t you be happy? I ended up saving you.”
Gui Yin harrumphed, neither denying nor accepting his words. He looked down at his own body and pulled back the robe slightly. His skin was smooth, without any sign of the previous wounds he received. Even his abdomen was fine. He flexed his arms, moved his legs, and then checked the flow of his spiritual energy.
He frowned slightly and looked to Erlang suspiciously. “Are you this miraculous? How come I don’t feel injured at all?”
Erlang smiled mysteriously. “Because you’ve been asleep for a very long time.”
“…A long time? How long? Several months?”
Erlang shook his head.
“…A year?”
Erlang shook his head again.
“Two years?”
Erlang sucked in a cold breath through his teeth. “Not quite. About five.”
“Five years?!”
Erlang nodded.
“You’re lying. You’re lying right now,” Gui Yin accused.
Erlang relaxed himself and sat back down. He leaned his chin against his palm and raised a brow. “Qinle, could you please have a bit of conscience? I spent five years looking for your primordial spirit and you have the guts to tell me I’m lying to you?”
“My…my what?”
“Your primordial spirit,” Erlang said, his finger poking the spot just below Gui Yin’s rib cage. He smiled. “I didn’t know you had such a nifty gadget. Still, when I found the plane of existence you were hiding in, I really couldn’t understand—why would you torture yourself and go to that…trashy, no-good place? If you want to have a banal life, just break your own meridians and live in the countryside. You don’t have to go through such theatrics. Broken meridians would have been more fun than that place.”
“I…I went back?” Gui Yin mumbled.
“Ah, your memories must be jumbled,” Erlang said. He stood and sat down on the bedside. When he saw Gui Yin shift back, he raised brow. “Where are you going to go? This is my bed.”
“You—”
Gui Yin felt a cool sensation pour in through the crown of his head. Erlang’s eyes were closed as he gently allowed his spiritual energy to pour into Gui Yin. Bit by bit, Gui Yin’s memories realigned with each other. When Erlang let go, Gui Yin was staring at him in shock.
“You…you’re crazy.”
“I’m glad your evaluation of me is so consistent,” Erlang said.
“Then,” Gui Yin held a hand over his mouth. His head throbbed as he slowly pieced together the story. “So…my desperation for survival activated the device I put in my own soul and it sent me back to the twenty-first century. You spent five years scouring the various dimensions just to pull me back?”
“That’s the broad summary of it,” Erlang said.
“Because…?”
“Our fates are intertwined,” Erlang said. He smiled as he leaned towards Gui Yin. “I was serious when I said this. You don’t know how long I had waited for our paths to become close enough for me to reach you. I wasn’t about to wait another thousand years.”
Gui Yin held Erlang’s gaze. “So, what do you plan to do now?”
Erlang hummed for a moment. “Keep you by my side. Or, rather, stay by your side. Either way, we shouldn’t leave each other.”
“Why is that?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Erlang said. He stood and flicked his sleeve.
The room, which had previously been brightly lit by sunlight, suddenly fell dark. On the ceiling above, a map of stars unfolded, but they weren’t regular stars. Gui Yin frowned and was unable to find the patterns of the night sky. Everything before him was nonsensical but, in a different way, there were obvious patterns.
“There,” Erlang sat back down beside Gui Yin and pointed above them. “Do you see those two stars?”
Gui Yin frowned slightly but looked at where Erlang was pointing.
“Each person has a star that represents their path,” Erlang said. “Ours was far apart, but look at how they slowly gathered together. And now—”
Gui Yin watched as the two stars collided. Without much fanfare, the two stars merged into one and began traveling down one path. He frowned and looked at Erlang.
“All I know is that we,” Erlang waved a finger between them, “Are stuck together now.”
“Is there a future where we’re apart?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“Nope,” Erlang shook his head. “For all my brilliance, of course, I would be given a flaw. I can’t see where my own star goes.”
Gui Yin’s brows furrowed tightly.
“So, we could part ways tomorrow or maybe even in a million years,” Erlang said. “I would never know. Just like how I can’t see why we’re stuck together, nor can I see when you’ll next be in danger anymore. In the stars, we are one entity. Inseparable and forever intertwined.”
Gui Yin looked back up at the stars absentmindedly.
It was a beautiful map, but the more he looked, the more he realized how artificial it was. He hesitated for a moment and then looked at Erlang. “May I ask a question?”
“You may ask any questions.”
“These aren’t really stars, are they?”
Erlang hummed. “They’re not.”
“What are they then?”
“That’s a bit difficult to explain,” Erlang said with a frown.
He waved his hand vaguely and the room returned to normal.
“I would have to explain my entire life story to you in order for you to understand,” Erlang said.
“Go ahead.”
“Aren’t you busy?”
Gui Yin frowned.
“I’m not trying to hide it from you. I mean it sincerely.”
“I think this is my most pressing matter at the moment,” Gui Yin said, his eyes narrowing.
“Okay,” Erlang nodded. “Hm…Well, my mother was an ethnic person from the desert and my father was a regular man from the upper realm. It’s said my mother inherited a special bloodline.”
“The Ruby-Eyed Serpent?”
“You remembered,” Erlang grinned. “But not exactly. In a sense, I could be considered their cousin. Anyway, I won’t go into my mother’s tragic story, but this bloodline manifests itself in a variety of different ways. For my mother, it was her undeniable beauty.”
“But you have that as well.”
Erlang paused for a moment. He looked at Gui Yin in silence and lightly cleared his throat. “No, it’s different. What I mean is, when others look at her, they’ll feel pity. They’ll want to protect her and give her everything they have. But it’s a double-edged sword. If one cannot obtain her, then they’ll want to cage her.”
“And…for you?”
“For me, it was the power of foresight and prophecy.”
The moment those words were spoken, Erlang’s dark brown eyes changed. Rather than red, perhaps it would be more apt to describe them as rubies. The two gems glimmered in the morning light. Gui Yin felt his heart pound heavily against his chest. He wanted to escape, but he couldn’t look away. Slowly, the ruby eyes dulled and were replaced by a shade of gold.
Gui Yin leaned in closer. “Why are they suddenly gold now?”
Erlang’s gaze flickered away. “That’s the color they remain temporarily. They’ll go back to brown soon.”
Gui Yin hummed in understanding and moved back. “So, foresight is what immediately happens. Prophecy is far into the future?”
“In the basest sense,” Erlang nodded.
“Then how did you manage to track down the thief in that labyrinth?” Gui Yin asked curiously.
“Depending on the time frame, if I touch an object and activate my foresight, I can see a glimpse of the past,” Erlang said. He watched Gui Yin nod. A smile unconsciously appeared on his lips. “Any more questions?”
“These gifts seem to come with a price,” Gui Yin muttered. He glanced at Erlang. “You’re not going to…go blind or anything like that, right?”
Erlang burst out laughing. He fell back against his bed and even rolled a few times. Gui Yin rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. Erlang landed right beside his hip and continued to shake in laughter. He pressed his forehead against Gui Yin’s side and let out a deep breath.
“No, no,” Erlang giggled. “Nothing like that. I…I already paid my price.”
Gui Yin glanced down. “Oh…”
“But my life wasn’t as hard as my mother’s,” Erlang said, propping himself up. He smiled. “I mean, look at me now. Aren’t I living my life in luxury?”
“Speaking of which,” Gui Yin looked around. “Are we at Huigu Palace?”
“We are,” Erlang sat up.
“So, we’re at Devil’s Desert?” Gui Yin asked.
“Nope.”
Gui Yin looked at him with a raised brow.
Erlang stood. He retied his robes and held out his hand. “Would you like to take a look at the balcony?”
Gui Yin let Erlang pull him up, but he released his hand as soon as he stood. He followed Erlang to the balcony with little expectation, but the moment he saw the view, he ran to the railing and leaned out.
“Wait—wait! This—isn’t this Kunlun?!” Gui Yin exclaimed. “We’re in the sky! Is this castle flying!? Is this the structure that floats above the clouds, near the seventh level of Heaven?”
Erlang’s smile grew wider at Gui Yin’s enthusiasm. He nodded. “This is the real Huigu Palace. The one in the desert was just another base of operations.”
“This…how did you get into Kunlun?” Gui Yin asked, wide-eyed.
“Have you forgotten that I’m a descendent of the southern dragon of the legends?” Erlang said. “My spirit inheritance happened to be stronger than others in my family.”
“So, you’re a spirit?”
“Maybe half?” Erlang nodded.
“And this castle—how is it flying?” Gui Yin asked, patting the railing like an excited child. He turned to Erlang expectantly.
“It’s powered by something called Jade Meteorite.”
“That can only be found in the Demon Realm though,” Gui Yin said. He let out a wistful sigh as he ran his hands over the railing of the balcony. “Jade Meteorite. I’ve always wanted to at least see it. If only the Demon Realm wasn’t so convoluted.”
“We have some left over from this build,” Erlang said. “Do you want some? Though, I doubt it would be enough to make something on a large scale.”
Gui Yin whipped his head towards Erlang. “I’ll take it. Even if it’s just the size of my finger I’ll take it.”
“Well, it isn’t that small,” Erlang chuckled. “I’ll have it packed for you then.”
“Did you design this?” Gui Yin asked, still not over the floating structure.
“I designed the palace,” Erlang said. “The mechanics were done by spirit cultivators in Kunlun.”
Gui Yin nodded. “That makes sense. The cultivators of Kunlun must have inherited more knowledge from the Celestials than anyone else in the upper realm.”
Erlang remained silent as he observed Gui Yin. A moment later he cleared his throat. “Then, shall we go?”
“Go?” Gui Yin looked at Erlang in confusion.
Erlang fell silent for a moment before bursting into laughter again. “My dear, have you forgotten who you are? War God, don’t you want to go home?”
Gui Yin’s eyes widened.
In his excitement, he had forgotten his current predicament. He let out a sigh and shook his head. “My apologies, I…I got too excited.”
“No worries. After you check on everything, we can come back and you can examine this place thoroughly. I’ll even give you the floorplans.”
Gui Yin’s eyes sparkled. He lightly cleared his throat. “I suppose being stuck with you isn’t so bad.”
A/N: Welcome home, Yinyin °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°
Gui Yin is so cute ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ i love his enthusiasm!
also, his memory of the time when he rescued A-Xia is what got him back!! poor kid…
thanks for the chapter!
Thanks for reaaadds
Home sweet home! Thanks for the update 🤣❤️🤣❤️🏠
Thanks for reading!!!
Hehe baby is back🫶🏽