Early evening, approaching twilight.

At the side of an old city road next to a dimly-lit alley, two figures stood staring each other down. One was a small boy around eleven, dressed in threadbare rags stained with filth and dried mud. He looked bruised but wasn’t bleeding—the blood on his clothes belonged to the bullies who’d tried to pick on him five minutes prior.

Across from him stood a vision in blue and white, a tall boy of around 16 with noble features and long flowing hair. He had a sword strapped to his waist while his hands hung listlessly at his sides. What would have been an attractive, striking face if he smiled was currently wearing a blank and listless expression as he stared down at the shorter figure.

The duo couldn’t be more of a contrast if they tried. Abruptly, an unwelcome voice sounded in the taller boy’s head.

『 Host, please make contact with the protagonist.』

...give me a second.

『 Host, you have 38 seconds before the protagonist gives up and leaves!』

That’s plenty of time.

He ignored the voice’s griping to quickly scan the boy again. Short, gaunt, and with a wary look in his pupils, this was the titular protagonist Long Tingyu of the novel Answering the Heavens. Was he grateful that the timely arrival of a stranger had cut his beating short? Was he wondering why an obvious disciple of a celestial sect would bother getting involved with the affairs of a dirty street urchin? Was he simply dazed from being scared senseless?

The taller boy saw none of that in his eyes, only a cool and calculated distance. When he tried to look deeper, the boy suddenly averted his gaze.

“Then, I’m going...” his childish voice trailed off.

『 Host, 5 seconds left!』

“Wait.”

The smaller boy stopped mid-stride to look back. “Ah?”

Slowly, the taller figure knelt down until he was eye-level with the boy and took something out of his sleeves. It glimmered in the light: a small, white jade ruyi scepter carved with an intricate design of flowing clouds.

“This is the Cloud Jade Ruyi of the Star Pavilion Sect. Only one is given out every ten years.”

He waited to see if the boy understood, but when Long Tingyu only gave him an uncertain look, he sighed and kept talking.

“If you pawn it, it’ll probably feed you for a year. The jade is rare, but not very useful to non-cultivators beyond being a pretty ornament. However, if you bring this to the disciple selection ceremony at South Star Peak, then it’ll feed you for a lifetime. The choice is yours.”

He didn’t dawdle but straightened up after that. Yet Long Tingyu quickly grabbed him by the sleeve.

“Wh—why are you giving me this?” he stammered.

The taller boy thought for a beat before murmuring back. “Fate works in funny ways.”

“Um, big brother, I don’t understand…” the boy looked helpless, but the other just gently brushed him off.

“The deadline is three weeks from now at the base of South Star Peak, a week’s travel east of here,” he continued. After another look at the boy’s tattered rags, he dug out a pouch of money and pushed that into his hands too. “You can find the answer to your questions then.”

“Who are you?” the boy asked, even as his eyes widened at the weighty bag of coins.

Again, the taller figure paused. Finally he exhaled and said simply, “Your future martial uncle.”

Then he shook his sleeves and took off into the sky on his flying sword, fading into the distance until Long Tingyu was left alone. As the little boy watched the teen disappear, his perplexed look soon softened into one of consideration.

How interesting. 

Long Tingyu (龍庭宇) tightened his grip on the items in his hands as he quickly ran through his memories.

A future martial uncle of mine? I don’t recall one this young from that godforsaken sect. Did he die before my time?

But only the strongest are chosen to give the Cloud Jade Ruyi to disciple candidates. Then again, why did he pick me of all people? This body doesn’t show any remarkable traits.

I’ll have to remember his face...

That impassive mien and measured gaze was aloof but not arrogant. The teen had given instructions without demanding cooperation and possessed a voice that resembled the wind glancing past the openings of a bamboo flute, playing notes but never a song, utterly free of intention. 

Long Tingyu felt that he didn’t dislike such a voice. Yet before he could think any further, a hand clapped him on the shoulder.

“Oi brat, hand it over.”

The young boy smelled rather than saw the hulking, half drunk man leering over his shoulder. He quickly adopted a frightened expression as he stuffed the scepter and money bag into his robes.

“H-hand what over?” Long Tingyu stammered.

“Don’t play dumb with me, pipsqueak,” the man swayed on his feet, words slurring as he leaned forward to grope at the boy’s arms. 

Long Tingyu instantly tensed.

“Give—gimme the goods—” the man’s swarthy arms made a swipe at the little boy’s head.

Splat.

Five minutes later, Long Tingyu walked out of the alleyway unharmed, wiping his hands incessantly against his robes. The footsteps he left behind were tinged with red.

—

High up in the skies, a certain celestially attired youth was currently flying back east. The peaceful trip to sect grounds was marred by the incessant voice chirping in his head.

『Host, why did you leave so soon?』

You never said I had to stay.

『You could have used the time to increase affection points with the protagonist!』

I gave him a free pass to join the sect and covered his travel expenses, Qiu Jinrong reasoned back. That’s more than enough attention from a stranger.

『Then, at least a goodbye hug? Or a headpat, even—』

No. Qiu Jinrong narrowed his eyes. Long Tingyu was flinching when I put the scepter in his hands. He doesn’t like skin contact.

『But the child Long Tingyu—』

Has no relation to this character and indirectly caused his death. Qiu Jinrong narrowed his eyes before increasing his flying speed. If you don’t like what I’m doing, then find someone else.

『Host!』the system wailed. 『Please don’t be so hasty!』

…I’m tired, let’s just go back.

As Qiu Jinrong (邱錦容) actively ignored the system, it made a tiny whirr of protest before obediently falling silent. The threat was real—Qiu Jinrong had actively attempted to destroy himself before the system talked him down. Even now, those actions had repercussions.

—

“Sect leader, he’s returned!”

“Does he look any better? Is he smiling or putting on airs?”

“I…” with a harrumph, the man with the angry brows cleared his throat gruffly. “It was too far for me to see from here, so I didn’t catch any details.”

“I’ll go see him myself!”

“Wait!” The first man grabbed the sleeve of the second. “Have some dignity, the disciples are still finishing up morning exercises outside!”

“Since when has the respect of those whippersnappers outweighed that of my own junior brother?”

“Since you assumed the mantle of sect leader!” 

Bai Yihan (百亦涵) eyes narrowed at the man gripping his sleeve. “Feng Chenye, are you questioning my authority?”

“I’m reminding you not to forget your duties to the sect!”

“Bastard, let me see my junior brother!”

“You want to embarrass our Master in his grave? I’ll take you to apologize to his memorial tablet right now!” Feng Chenye (封塵夜) didn’t budge beyond tightening his grip on the older man’s wrist. As the Star General of the Left, he had strength to rival the strongest members of the sect—even on par with its most venerated elders.

Bai Yihan was furious. “Enough already! I—”

“Sect leader, senior brother. Junior brother already went back.”

Both Bai Yihan and Feng Chenye looked up at the same time to see a female cultivator step into the hall with arms crossed, looking at them unimpressed.

“Back where?” “He didn’t come to report?” The two men chorused, before exchanging glares.

“Back to his quarters,” the woman replied. “Without disturbing a soul.”

Bai Yihan looked visibly distressed, while Feng Chenye only snorted. “He’s been dragging on this act for an awful long time.”

“No no, Rongrong wouldn’t do that!” Bai Yihan protested. “Something must have happened to him—something terrible that he refuses to say…don’t you think so, Yingzi?”

Ji Yingwu (姬影舞) only sighed and shook her head. “It’s been years since I’ve been able to understand how Ah-Rong thinks. But,” she cast Feng Chenye a glance, “At the end of it, he’s still our junior brother and any aberrations will affect the sect. We’ll have to find out what’s going on.”

Without a word, the trio exchanged looks. Seconds later, they vanished from the hall.

—

Qiu Jinrong avoided most of the disciples at Star Pavilion Sect to slip into his rooms and shut the doors behind him. It was quiet here, and empty—the original owner of this body hadn’t liked servants and obsessed over his privacy, which suited him just fine.

His eyes skimmed over the contents of the fine and unfamiliar room outfitted with tasteful, delicate objects and beautiful decorations. It was a place more befitting of a museum than a resident, the shelves stocked with either books, porcelain, or other rare goods. Qiu Jinrong vaguely remembered that the original host of this body had come from an extremely poor background and was starving in the streets before the sect took him in. Memories of the experience must have left a deep impression on the original, who made it a point to obsessively collect and display expensive things as a way to soothe his own anxiety and fear of being so powerless ever again.

Two weeks ago, he had transmigrated into this body—that of a no-name cannon fodder cultivator—in a xianxia novel. Long Tingyu, the boy he’d found and given the scepter to, was the protagonist of the story and never crossed paths with this body in the book. Originally, Long Tingyu had struggled to Star Pavilion Peak one year later to barely qualify for the disciple selections, then unlocked his talent in a show-stopping display that made him a core disciple to Peak Lord Lin Feng (林枫), a minor villain who acted as a stepping stone on the protagonist’s path to power.

It was only unfortunate that during the struggles between disciple and master, the nameless cannon fodder had become a victim and died under mysterious circumstances orchestrated by Peak Lord Lin. He pinned the crime on Long Tingyu and managed to report it to the sect head Bai Yihan before he was expelled from the sect through Long Tingyu’s machinations. Afterwards, Long Tingyu was personally taken under Bai Yihan’s wing, but their relations remained cool and distant. 

For one thing, Peak Lord Lin had so tarnished Long Tingyu’s reputation that it was impossible to see him as a faultless, innocent disciple. For another, Long Tingyu had indeed pulled strings and manipulated events to get rid of his former master. His hands were far from clean. For a third, the matter of Nameless Cannon Fodder’s death was never cleared up, nor did Bai Yihan trust Long Tingyu enough to share the details with him. The sect leader always held a secret suspicion that his latest disciple had been somehow implicit in the death of his beloved junior brother, resulting in strained relations. In the end, Long Tingyu discovered his secret bloodline inheritance and left Star Pavilion Sect for good, embarking on his path of harem collecting and revenge.

He didn’t hold any outward grudges against Star Pavilion Sect, but he didn’t move to save it from destruction years later when demonic cultivators swarmed from their nests to attack the righteous cultivation circles. His master Bai Yihan died cursing his name while defending the sect to the very last moment.

The no-name cannon fodder never changed the plot during his life, but his death set the hearts of his closest people against the all-mighty halo of the main character, so it was no surprise that they’d fall.

That was Qiu Jinrong’s assessment when he first read the story summary provided to him by the System. Now he was stuck in this body and bound to see the original host have a happy ending.

—

Qiu Jinrong strode to his desk and poured himself a fresh cup of tea. He’d hardly sipped, however, before a gust of wind sent the doors blasting open.

“Rongrong, how was your trip?”

Qiu Jinrong took a long sip of his tea before setting the cup down. “Successful, sect leader.”

Bai Yihan seemed to frown at that, but he quickly put on a smile. “So you’ve found a carrier for the scepter? That’s wonderful news!”

Behind him, Feng Chenye gave a soft snort. “Someone always gets it once a decade.” He gave Qiu Jinrong a meaningful look. “We’ll just have to hope our tender-hearted junior brother didn’t toss it to the first pretty girl he saw.”

“You gave Jinrong the Cloud Jade Ruyi for the disciple selections?” Ji Yingwu exclaimed in surprise. “Wasn’t it supposed to go to Peak Lord L—”

“Peak Lord Qiu has been with us since Master headed the sect,” Bai Yihan said briskly as he adopted a formal tone. “He has full right to hand out the scepter.”

『Antagonism with Peak Lord Lin rises 2%!』

At the alert in his head, Qiu Jinrong only arched a brow.

『Host, it’s always risky to deviate from the plot.』

I don’t see you stopping me.

『If Host would agree to cooperate...』

At this, Qiu Jinrong picked up a fruit knife nearby and casually nicked his fingers across the blade, drawing a neat line of blood.

『Host! Please refrain from hurting yourself!』

I told you before, I don’t care what you want, but don’t force me to follow your orders.

As the anxious system started whirring in his head, Qiu Jinrong casually flipped the tip of the blade towards his chest and stabbed—

“What are you doing?!” Feng Chenye was the first to act, rushing in to knock the blade out of Qiu Jinrong’s hands before grabbing him by the wrist. 

“Rongrong, behave yourself!” Bai Yihan hissed, while Ji Yingwu simply looked upon them, startled.

“You’re bleeding…” she trailed off, staring at his red fingertips.

“They’ll heal,” Qiu Jinrong said simply and watched as his wounds closed up before their eyes. 

“Jinrong, your cultivation...has advanced,” Ji Yingwu murmured in shock at the sight.

“He’s certainly on par with Peak Lord Lin now. I’ll have no more objections from you, Yingzi,” Bai Yihan babbled in a rush. “Rongrong, does it hurt?”

『Antagonism with Peak Lord Lin rises 2%!』

While Bai Yihan was expecting a reassuring smile or a nod, all he got was Qiu Jinrong wresting himself free and giving them all a cool look.

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t be like that,” Bai Yihan coaxed with infinite patience. “If there’s something bothering you, just tell us! Before sect leader or peak lords, we’re still your senior brothers and sister first!”

“There’s nothing wrong,” Qiu Jinrong replied. “Sect leader, you should clarify my qualifications to Peak Lord Lin before there are any more misunderstandings. Peak Lord Feng—” he nodded towards the irritable man who looked ready to speak up, “I’ve reviewed my past actions and found them to be both trivial and disrespectful. I’ll reflect on my words and deeds and give you a proper apology in the future, but for now I can offer you half the treasures in my possession.”

Peak Lord Feng’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he muttered, “Hmph! As if I need those things! I’m not poor, you little scamp!”

“Please grant me the favor of accepting some, if only to give me face,” Qiu Jinrong went on, then turned to Ji Yingwu. “Senior sister, thank you for taking care of me when I fell ill.”

“It is only to be expected,” Ji Yingwu replied simply, but her gaze had softened at his tone.

“Are you sure you’re not feeling unwell right now, Rongrong?” Bai Yihan had been taken aback, but finally recovered enough to ask. “Shall we have Yingzi take a look at you again?”

“I’m fine,” Qiu Jinrong repeated. “Sect leader, I plan to enter closed door cultivation for the next three weeks.”

“Rongrong,” Bai Yihan began fretfully, but Feng Chenye cut him off.

“That’s a better use of your time than chasing after female disciples and more worthy than any treasure from your stash!” he said brusquely. “Tell you what, senior brother here will reward you with a cultivation treasure if you can break through Nascent Soul before the disciple selection ceremony!”

There were five tiers of cultivation between Qi Condensation, Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul, and Immortal Ascension, with each tier divided into nine levels. Currently, Qiu Jinrong’s cultivation was the lowest among his martial siblings as a 6th rank Core Formation disciple. It was enough to cow most of the students at the sect, but dwarfed by some of his brother and sister’s own core disciples. Because of this, he couldn’t assume the title of peak lord like the rest of them or take disciples of his own.

However, no one had pushed him to try harder. They even indulged him—sometimes to excess—simply because he was the youngest and son to their late master’s first love. Qiu Jinrong had once wondered if the nameless cannon fodder was actually the late sect master’s biological child, but of course the novel had never gone into his origins before he died.

“Why are you pressuring him?!” Bai Yihan huffed. “Rongrong, don’t listen to what he says. If you don’t want to—”

“All right,” Qiu Jinrong nodded simply. “It’s a deal.”

Bai Yihan seemed to suffer a mortal blow as Ji Yingwu moved to pat him on the back. “They all grow up one day...sect leader.”

Feng Chenye couldn’t be more delighted. “For once you’re showing some initiative, brat! Maybe I’ll finally stop being embarrassed to acknowledge you in public as my junior brother, eh?” 

“Chenye!” Bai Yihan roared, but Feng Chenye only gave Qiu Jinrong a nod before making a quick exit.

After more inquiries by Bai Yihan and firm answers from Qiu Jinrong, the sect leader was finally dragged away by Ji Yingwu to give him time alone. Instantly, Qiu Jinrong sank back in his seat and shut his eyes in fatigue. 

Cultivation? Living for hundreds or thousands of years? What a joke.

The whole thing sounded exhausting. His senior “brothers” and “sister” were nearly a couple centuries old, but still retained their youthful looks. As sect leader, Bai Yihan looked no different than a man in his mid-twenties, while Feng Chengye and Ji Yingwu could pass for new college graduates. He himself resembled a teenager, but was actually closer to 129 in this world and 25 in his last.

A timid beep sounded in his head. 『Host…?』

What do you want.

『All the things you said just then...』

Qiu Jinrong rested an arm over his forehead while stifling a yawn. Peak Lord Lin caused the cannon fodder’s death, so I might as well get him on Bai Yihan’s radar. If I was on better terms with Feng Chenye, he would’ve defended his junior brother before the scheme dug deeper. And Ji Yingwu...she’s a formidable healer, so showing proper courtesy is only a matter of course.

『But the script says—』

The script that killed me off?

『.....』It couldn’t refute that point.

Don’t worry. Since I agreed to bind with you, I’ll save his life.

The System trembled in a rare moment of touched feelings that made its circuits spark and shine.

And when that’s done, I’ll take my own.

『H-host! That’s not how this works!』

But Qiu Jinrong just yawned again and shrugged against his chair. We’ll talk later, I’m taking a nap.

Against the System’s incoherent beeps and babblings, he easily fell asleep.

~ mini-theater ~

System: o(TヘTo) くぅ What do I do if my Host doesn’t love me?

Qiu Jinrong: Fire him and get a new one.

System: B-but H-host, you’ll die if I do that!

Qiu Jinrong: Don’t care.

System: How do I teach my Host to love life? ??

Qiu Jinrong: It’s a lost cause, I’m already dead.

System: You don’t have to stay dead!

Qiu Jinrong: Not interested. Later.

System: (ಥ﹏ಥ) Uwahhh, my Host abandoned me…!