“⸺you?!”
“⸺won’t stand⸺!”
“⸺For the last time⸺!”
“⸺Are you even listening⸺?!”
“⸺me, Bingleng?!”
Listening to his mother with only half an ear, he steps onto the platform. The next train is due to arrive any minute now, and as ever, the platform is getting crowded. Things are getting louder, and so is the voice in his ear. It does little to alleviate his resurfacing migraine.
Ah, why had he even picked up the phone?
Why had he bothered taking the call after spotting the caller ID?
Why had he allowed his folks to convince him to enter medical school?
Get into medical school, they’d said.
Go make your family proud, they’d said.
Go make your family some money, they had not said but that hadn’t made it any less true.
Ah, what a drag. Some days, he wishes it would all just... end.
And today, with a firm push from behind, he finally gets his⸺
Wait, he thinks, the screeching of emergency brakes and the roar of the crowd filling his ears right before impact.
He’s lucky to be alive, they’d said, and his parents had cried and cried and cried and thanked the heavens above right up until the doctor’s final verdict had arrived. Because according to that, he’d never again be an asset, only a burden.
So, when he opens his eyes one night to the sight of a glowing orb hovering above him, he isn’t really thinking anything. He is startled when it speaks to him though.
[Will you form a contract with me, You Bingleng?]
Why not, he thinks. It isn’t as though this world has anything left for him to⸺
There’s little left for him in that world. He might’ve thought there’d been something, but with greater distance, there’s both greater clarity and distraction.
“Say, System...”
[Yes, Host?]
“What are the qualifications for someone to become a transmigrator?”
[This System wants to inquire why this information is of any relevance to the Mission.]
Huh. “Nothing much, honestly. I just thought – how come so many transmigrators are like doctors, plastic surgeons, secret spies, office workers are game designers? Why no dentists? Why no salesclerks?”
[System ---, responding to Host: This System has not been made privy to such data. However, this System would like to present a heightened risk of dying from overwork as a potential factor.]
Hah. “Why no nurses or social workers then? Taxi drivers? Cleaning personnel?”
[System ---, responding to Host: This System believes that Host asks too many irrelevant questions and ought to focus on the Mission.]
Ah, right.
There are always new worlds, always new missions, always new tasks.
There are always new roles to play, more points to be earned, and new penalties to avoid.
This recent cultivation world isn’t all that different from others, and yet⸺
“Hey, hey you! Frosty! Guess what! I’ve taught myself another song! Recognise this one?”
The fool proceeds to release an absolutely jarring rendition of some pop song, looking immensely proud of himself.
Wishing intensely that he’d been allowed to kill the bastard, he instead redirects his qi to make the sound less aggravating to his ears. Because this sort of thing could’ve definitely been utilised as a weapon or torture implement, but he’s obviously not about to call any attention to that as it would undoubtedly give the bastard ideas.
And if the fool’s playing does eventually send someone into a state of qi deviation, then perhaps someone else would do him the favour of destroying the fool’s instrument; he himself would’ve done it, but alas, he’s not allowed to interfere unless it’s explicitly approved by the System, who in turn can only do with permission from the fool’s own System.
This is most likely for the best though, because if not, then his hand might’ve just slipped.
The guy is aggravating on normal days, and absolutely infuriating on others.
The fact that they, very occasionally, have to cooperate is an awful inconvenience, because while the guy possesses quite impressive qi reserves, he hasn’t been endowed with the sense to use them properly. And yet, the guy keeps accusing him of being OP!
And yes, perhaps he is, but it isn’t as though that power comes without its drawbacks. He’s making good progress on his mission, but he’s also on a strict deadline – unlike the fool, who has time to dawdle.
There’s no more time to waste – enough time has been wasted already.
He’s obtained his position, and he’s obtained the materials necessary for the sword, and he’s managed to keep himself from killing the fool.
Now he only needs one more thing.
“So... new disciple, huh? Where did you find that one?”
Tch. “Irrelevant.”
“Is it really though?” The fool leans in. “There are already stories in certain areas that cultivators like to go around stealing children. At least tell me you properly informed that boy’s guardians before you took him away.”
“No need.”
“Why not?”
“Orphan.”
The bastard has the audacity to smile. “Before or after he’d caught your eye?”
Tch. “Do I seem like I would kill in order to secure a disciple?”
“To be perfectly honest? Yes.”
Well, the fool might not have been endowed with much intelligence, but he isn’t exactly wrong about this one.
His new disciple – a tiny, scrawny little thing – is outside doing light exercises, earnestly going through the forms demonstrated to him earlier this morning.
This is the first time he’s let the boy step more than ten yards away in the week he’s had him. He’s keeping watch though, and banned any outsiders from entering his peak, something that the fool has obviously opted to disregard.
Honestly, if he didn’t already know the futility of throwing the other off of high cliffs, then he would’ve given him another taste of it.
“So,” the fool finally says. “Does the kid have a name?”
Ah. He’d been wondering whether or not he’d been forgetting something.
A name, huh? Apparently, his new disciple lacks a proper one. As such, he’d obviously have to pick a good one; something suitable.
“Yōu (幽)… Míng (明)… Yuè (月)?”
Youming Yue? You Mingyue?
Well, it isn’t as though he needs to decide now, is it?
It can wait. It can wait for a while yet.
Upon closer consideration, neither name will do. The Yue or Mingyue portion is fine, but anything beyond that leaves a bad aftertaste in his mouth.
“Say, have you heard the rumours?”
Who hasn’t heard the rumours? Who hasn’t heard?
“The Yōumíng clan, huh?”
An unmistakable red haunts his dreams.
Mingyue is making decent progress. He’s still small and weak though – still small and weak and vulnerable. He still needs protection, and time is running out.
“Little Yue,” he says. “Come here.”
He motions for his disciple to join him up on the tree branch and he does; he’s a very quiet and obedient child – a bit too much so, as a matter of fact.
“Little Yue,” he tells him, pulling the boy to sit close to his side. “You’re still young, but there are plenty of things I feel obligated to teach you.”
So many things to teach, yet so little time. He will have to stick to the essentials: “Stranger Danger.”
The boy scrunches up his nose, eyebrows knitting together. It shouldn’t be cute, but somehow, it is. He doesn’t even like children – he might even go as far as to say that he dislikes them.
That in itself is not to say that he hates them, but he also cannot say with confidence that he doesn’t.
Then again, what does it matter? This is all temporary after all, and soon, their time together will come to an end.
“We’ve already covered this lesson, Master Bai.”
Hah. “I know. This is part two. But first, repeat to me what this master has already taught you.”
There’s a sigh of obvious exasperation, but then⸺ “Don’t trust strangers. Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t go anywhere with strangers. Don’t accept anything from strangers – no gifts, no food, no drinks, no sweets.”
Hm... “Adequate. Now what do you do if a stranger lays a hand on you?”
“Aim for the groin?”
Hah. “Good initiative, but you’re still too small and weak to make much impact in that area.”
Too small and too weak, and Jixue won’t be around for when he grows much taller. Given his own circumstances, they’ll eventually stand at the same height, and soon, the other will outgrow him. But that’s fine, honestly – and it’s especially fine, given that Jixue won’t be around to see it.
Because while Mingyue is generally a good child now, there’s still adolescence – and Jixue has heard plenty of things about teenage rebellion despite never actually experiencing it for himself.
It doesn’t matter though. Jixue’s task is almost complete.
“Use this,” he says, handing over the blade – finally completed at long last.
“But that’s⸺”
It’s his, technically speaking. He will likely never use it however. Instead, he presses it into Little Yue’s hands and looks him in the eye and tells him not to hesitate.
The boy nods. “Yes, Master Bai.”
That’s good. That’s good enough, at least for now.
“I’ll teach you how to use it.” Eventually. “Now, the lesson.”
“Yes, Master.”
“The lessons of Stranger Danger extend to people who are not strangers, like the members of the Windward Sect,” Jixue explains. “Some of them are harmless, others are not. In any case, you’re under no obligation to blindly trust their word. You’re under no obligation to talk to any of them. You’re under no obligation to go anywhere with them, unless this master directly says so. They might want to offer you sweets or trinkets, but you shouldn’t accept them. If they want to give you anything, then they must submit it to me first.”
“...Does this rule apply to everyone at the Sect?”
“Yes.”
“...Even to Ziyu?”
Ah yes, the fool’s latest pet project.
“Little Yue is allowed to choose his own company. However, if this master learns that that Zilei’s brat has taken any sort of liberties with you, then I will turn him into a human stick.”
“...What does it mean, to take liberties?”
Ugh. “It means to act disrespectfully or inappropriately. Then again, considering that he is the disciple of that fool, one can hardly expect too much from him.”
One could hardly expect too much – neither bad nor good. Besides, Jixue’s primary concerns lie elsewhere.
He sighs. “Little Yue, the world is full of trash. This master won’t always be around to protect you, and once I’m gone, I trust you to protect yourself.”
“To protect myself... from trash?”
“Yes.” He strokes the boy’s head, smoothing down his hair, as is his privilege. “They might try to bribe you or sweet-talk you, or try to make you feel obligated to accept whatever they offer you.”
He’s seen it all before; he’s lived it too at one point – albeit only briefly.
“They might talk about helping you build your foundation, or they might start waxing poetry about Chrysanthemums. But that only means that they want to take advantage of you; that they want to use you. They might even claim that they’ll die otherwise. Let them.”
“...I should let them die?”
Yes. “If they’re weak enough to perish from such poisons, they deserve it. Tch, dual cultivation? Ridiculous.”
“Dual cultivation?”
The curiosity is faint, yet at the same time impossible to miss.
“Don’t even think about it,” he says, withdrawing his hand. “That Ziyu brat is too young, you’re way too young, and there’ll be no dual cultivation until you’re at least thirty – or once I’m gone, whichever comes first.”
“You’re leaving?”
There’s a small hand gripping his lapels, and a surprisingly discourteous brat seated upon his lap, staring him down.
Honestly⸺ “Insolent.”
The Mission is almost complete. The Mission is⸺
“Fucking seriously?”
About a dozen disciples are laid up with various degrees of exposure to Butterfly Demon Dust. It was supposed to have been simple mission, and yet⸺
“I’ve talked to Little Ziyu,” says the fool, appearing unusually grim. “His memory’s been tampered with.”
His and everyone else’s most likely, given how they’d suddenly forgotten all about one particular member in their group. Granted, Butterfly Demon Dust could cause similar effects, but⸺ “This wasn’t just some random event.”
“Yeah, doesn’t seem like it,” Zilei says. “I checked with my contacts. Does the Hua clan mean anything to you?”
Ugh. “Yes. I might’ve killed a few of its members.”
A few, yes, and maimed a few more.
“Think maybe that’s why?” says the fool. “They wanted revenge on you, so they took your kid.”
It’s not out of the question. However, Jixue still doubts it. Besides⸺ “They had it coming, and clearly, once wasn’t enough. I’m not making the same mistake twice.”
“Oh?” The fool looks positively intrigued. “You’re planning on taking on the forces of the Demon Realm?”
“Yes.”
“Can I come?”
The question makes him pause. Because, while he would generally rather deal with things himself – fewer complications that way – bringing along that fool might not actually be such a bad idea. So⸺ “Whatever. Just don’t get in my way.”
The fool actually salutes him. “Sir, yessir!”
Well, that settles that. Now, only one problem remains.
[System 225 notifying Host: No further interference is permitted. Failure to comply will result in a 100.000 Penalty and immediate expulsion.]
A 100.000 penalty? That’d wipe out just about all of his assembled points. But⸺ “Host, notifying System 225: Get fucked.”
Under normal circumstances, no Host could ever win against a System. The power balance was simply too great. However⸺
[System 225 notifying Host: This System is required to download and install necessary updates. During this period, this System will be unavailable to award, deduct or redeem any Points.]
This seems to be System speech for “I’m going to turn a blind eye to this and take action later”, which demonstrated precisely what separates a veteran System from a newly minted one; adaptability.
“Thanks,” Jixue says. “I appreciate it.”
The System offers up an actual scoff at that. Then its presence grows muted, like it typically did when installing updates.
“So?” Jixue turns to the fool. “Any problems on your end?”
“Nope!” Zilei salutes him once more. "We’re completely set.”
“Then we’re leaving now.”
“Oh yeah," Zilei says, stopping him in his tracks. "Just one more thing though?”
“What?”
“Mind making just a tiny bit of a detour? I think might know a shortcut?”
A shortcut?
In hindsight, Jixue really ought to have known better – ought to have known better than to trust Jiao Zilei.
“Really. This is your plan?”
“Yes.”
“You do realise who that is, right?”
“Hm? Our makeshift taxi?”
At this the Demon Bastard looks up as if only just then noticing them, and greets them with a smile.
Jixue instinctively takes a step backwards.
“I should’ve known better than to trust you.”
“Hey, Frosty!" says the fool. "I resent that! It’s this way, the long way, or heading down into the Abyssal Shaft!”
Given the other alternatives, Jixue would much rather try his luck with the Abyssal Shaft. Because at least that would’ve⸺
“Frosty?”
The Demon Bastard smiles, and the sight makes Jixue’s skin crawl.
“You’re still so small,” says the nuisance – the Eyesore, Àiyǎn – who in spite of already having fulfilled his end of the bargain seems to have invited himself along for the rest.
“Pint-sized,” he says. “Don’t they feed you properly over there, Little Xue?”
Ah, that damned name, and ah, that damned fool Zilei actually has the audacity to chuckle. Jixue will remember this.
“When one’s cultivation level reaches a certain threshold, physical aging slows or halts almost entirely,” Zilei explains, as if the head of the Youming clan wouldn’t already know such fundamental things.
“Perhaps,” says the nuisance in question, not looking away. “Still looks malnourished to me though.”
Again, the fool has the audacity to laugh. “Dude, that’s rude! Frosty just peaked early! He made it to Peak Lord years before I did! Granted, he eats like a bird, but⸺ ah!”
The half-wit stumbles, only just managing to keep himself from falling over. Clearly, Jixue hadn’t kicked him quite hard enough.
“Hoh?” The Demon Bastard whistles. “You really made it to Peak Lord. I thought the rumours might’ve been exaggerating.”
Jixue feels his face heat up, murderous urges resurfacing. Honestly, this bastard⸺
Unfortunately, Jixue has far more pressing matters to deal with. He lifts his gaze towards the treetops – towards those gratingly pink cherry blossoms – and readies himself to make the jump. But right as he’s about to move, an arm catches him by the waist, pulling him firmly up against another’s chest.
To be subject to such manhandling leaves him momentarily bewildered. Then he starts kicking.
“Feisty!” the Demon Bastard laughs. “A bit light though!”
A quiet but nonetheless enraged squawk escapes him, which only adds to the bastard’s amusement, and Zilei is also amused, right up until he isn’t, because just as abruptly, Jixue finds himself plucked out of the bastard’s hands and brought into the arms of the half-wit. He finds himself being held – which is undignified – like a child – which is humiliating – and he actually finds himself clinging – which is absolutely mortifying.
“Dude,” Zilei says. “Lay off. I know he looks very huggable, but he’s going through some shit right now and is under a lot of stress.”
Ah, Jixue would never be hearing the end of this, would he? Even if he killed everyone involved, he would never be hearing the end of this. Also, the fool really had no business smelling as good as he did, or being so comfy in general.
Jixue finds himself burrowing closer, pressing his aching forehead against the side of Zilei’s throat.
What’s wrong with him? Everything is too hot.
“What’s the situation?” the Demon Bastard finally asks, all traces of humour gone.
“Those Hua people took his kid,” Zilei dutifully reports. “They actually attacked a bunch of our disciples, but they took only him. We’re here to take him back.”
“Ah,” the demon takes a step back. “All right then. I’m familiar with the layout of that place, so I can get you right in.”
Hah. Jixue finally manages to let go, and Zilei for once has enough sense to let him back down.
And once back on his feet, Jixue turns around to stare at the now potentially quite useful nuisance. “And what do you want in exchange for that?”
The other stares right back at him and smiles.
“You know," the Demon Bastard says. "I would’ve settled for a front-row seat to Old Lady Hua and her lot getting what’s coming for them, but now that you mention it...”
He trails off, practically leering. Frankly, it makes Jixue’s skin crawl.
“Well,” the other says at last, nodding to himself. “Let’s settle for you two not causing extensive property damage outside of the palace itself. This place might be Hua territory, but I do enjoy coming here from time to time. Many good memories.”
Hah. Jixue wishes he could’ve said the same.
Thanks to a certain someone’s highly useful dimensional abilities, getting in and to Little Yue proves a quick and relatively easy affair.
However, dealing with what comes after is another matter altogether.
The Demon Bastard straightens, retracting his claws to leave bloodied, humanoid fingers in their wake. That’s just a small portion of it though, because there’s a lot of blood.
Old Lady Hua lies at his feet, and certain other members of the Hua clan’s leadership lie nearby, quite a few of them in pieces.
The Demon Bastard – Youming Hongyan – is smiling. It isn’t a very nice smile, and his eyes – slit pupils and all – glimmer as he looks up towards his audience.
Even that fool Zilei seems nervous. It’s a bit late for the other to realise the danger the Demon Bastard poses. Still, the fool’s first action is to step in-between them and the latter to block them from his immediate line of sight.
“So,” Zilei says, moving into a defensive position, blade and all. “I must admit, you’re pretty skilled for a taxi driver.”
“I’m afraid I’m quite unfamiliar with that particular turn of phrase,” says the demon, leaning over just enough to lock eyes with Jixue before dropping his gaze. “Cute kid. I can clearly see the family resemblance.”
“Mister,” says Little Yue, speaking out of turn. “Master and I aren’t related by blood. And we look almost nothing alike.”
The demon smiles, and his eyes flicker back towards Jixue.
The look in them makes him bristle, and he opens his mouth to speak. However, before he can do so, he suddenly feels it; the jarring sensation of the System suddenly coming back online.
Instinctively, he shoves Little Yue away, towards the demon. Because while he certainly wouldn’t trust the other farther than he could throw him, right now, he trusts himself even less.
And it feels like the correct decision. It feels like the correct decision, because right thereafter, his limbs contort as a massive wave of agony washes over him. And as it does, the System’s voice rings out inside his head.
[System 225 notifying Host: As per the previous notice, 100.000 Points will be deducted, effective now.]
Ah. That⸺
It hurts.
Blood wells up in his mouth, and his head feels like it’s going to burst.
No, it feels as though it has already cracked open, like an egg dropped from above, and his insides feel crushed, his meridians just moments away from shattering.
But he’s still alive, still conscious enough to perceive the world around him.
There’s cold tile beneath him and people all around him. There are voices as well – raised yet simultaneously muffled – and the qi surrounding them fluctuates wildly.
With a great deal of effort, Jixue pries his eyes open, taking them all in; their blurred outlines. Even so, he can see them – see the hints of their twisted expressions.
Little Yue’s is the worst though. Little Yue is⸺
Jixue lifts his hand towards the boy but drops it midway through; he has no energy left and it hurts – it hurts too much.
Instead, he turns his head towards the other, towards the Demon Bastard, Youming Hongyan – Àiyǎn.
“Do whatever you want with this body,” he tells him. “But... get them both back safely... to the Green Jade⸺”
It doesn’t matter what happens to him, to this body. He would be ejected from it anyways, and the less that remained of it afterwards, the better. Still⸺ “Little Yue...”
“Little Yue.”
“Little Yue.”
“Come back to me.”
Everything ends, and then it starts over, and then⸺
With the taste of blood in his mouth, Yue wakes up.
