Blooming Dais

Song Qing had slept soundly, waking up to find it was already midnight. Realizing he was resting his head on Mr. Yue's lap—the very man who claimed to know him—he felt slightly awkward. Noticing his lips were slightly swollen, he hurriedly wiped the corners of his mouth, checking for any drool.

Fortunately, no such embarrassment had occurred…

Thanks to the potent effects of the Ten-Turn Golden Marrow Elixir, most of his injuries had healed significantly. As he tried to rise, he found that his medicinal ointments had been upgraded to more effective spirit medicines, complete with pain-relieving properties. The intense pain had vanished, leaving only a faint tingling sensation.

Mr. Yue opened his eyes from his feigned slumber as Song Qing awoke.

Song Qing gave him a grateful smile, only to find Song Jincheng kneeling in a corner, facing the wall in reflection. Even though it wasn't his place to intervene in another sect's disciplinary actions, he felt a connection with the young man and couldn't ignore him.

As he pondered this, Mr. Yue reached for his mustard seed bag, pouring an astonishing number of spirit stones into it. Startled, Song Qing hurriedly intervened: "I've already accepted valuable elixirs, I can't take these as well."

After all, the man wasn't his biological or even adoptive father—how could he accept so many spirit stones?

"These were always yours," Mr. Yue handed him a token exquisitely carved with a phoenix motif, explaining, "You had stored some spirit stones with me. I've managed them for a while now and have yielded substantial returns. You can use this token at any establishment bearing this emblem in Medicine King Valley; there is no spending limit."

Overjoyed, Song Qing asked, "How much money do I have?"

Mr. Yue pondered for a moment. He had eradicated several corrupt factions on the Peak of Immortality and confiscated their wealth and properties. Left unattended, it would lead to chaos and the proliferation of dark elements, so he'd enacted a host of new rules and restructured the industries.

For instance, auction houses were prohibited from trafficking humans or stolen goods. The social status of artisans, especially medical practitioners, had been elevated. Slave trade was banned, employment contracts enacted, and penalties for murdering and looting were increased. Several strict regulations were also in place, like the prohibition of littering in public areas.

While cultivators initially resisted these rules, rebellions quieted down as the heads of dissenters were displayed as grim lanterns. With each new generation of cultivators, these rules became ingrained habits.

Even though the darkness couldn't be entirely eradicated, it now dared not thrive in the open, and no one brazenly defied the terrifying existence at the Peak of Immortality.

Nowadays, businesses affiliated with the Peak of Immortality were spread all over the world. Every year, different sects and towns even paid tributes of rare treasures and local specialties to the Divine Lord—it had become a custom.

Mr. Yue hadn't kept track of his riches or the contents of his treasure vault in a long time. However, he knew Song Qing was proud and disliked being a burden; hence, he needed to find an appropriate reason to gradually offer him these resources.

He carefully stated, "You had invested over two million spirit stones during the most challenging period for Medicine King Valley. Now it's grown to several tens of millions. I've also invested in other businesses for you, which are continually growing. I'll provide you with the ledgers later."

Mr. Yue planned to have his subordinates fabricate some ledgers to conveniently add tens of millions of spirit stones creatively.

In his previous life, Song Qing was the heir to a wealthy family and had some knowledge of business dealings. But he had never encountered anyone going to great lengths to doctor accounts just to offer him money. What was the catch?

So, was all of this true?

He had made a highly successful venture investment during his amnesia?

Research funding would no longer be a concern in this lifetime?

Overwhelmed with joy, Song Qing felt like spinning around on the ground and letting out excited howls. A laundry list of previously unaffordable medicinal ingredients flashed through his mind. He was tempted to embrace his benefactor, Mr. Yue, and plant a couple of grateful kisses on him.

Grabbing Mr. Yue's arm, he asked, "What else did I do while I was amnesiac?"

Mr. Yue smiled, "You taught me how to raise lab mice. They've flourished under my care. I've bred several unique strains. When you come back to Medicine King Valley, I'll gift them to you as...presents."

He mumbled two words in the middle.

Although Song Qing couldn't make out the mumbled words, he noticed a discrepancy: "Special strains of mice would require a long period of cultivation. How long have we known each other?"

He felt that the memories he had lost were more extensive than he had initially thought.

Mr. Yue chuckled, "We've known each other for just over a decade, but we've been apart for millennia. I've been confined to a limited world and have no knowledge of what you've experienced..."

Song Qing was stunned. The length of his memory loss far exceeded his initial estimates. Could it be that his original body in this world had failed in closed-door cultivation, leading to a soul-transference from another world?

Pondering this, he became even more bewildered. Why was he able to seamlessly merge memories from two bodies into a new, singular identity, without feeling any dissonance? Was it because the two looked too similar?

His system had crashed; he couldn't find any answers.

Song Jincheng couldn't help but intervene, "Great Ancestor, you're joking. Who takes so long just to reach the Foundation Establishment stage?" With the laughter hiding in his voice, he continued, "I managed to reach it at 18, and one can only live up to 300 years at that stage. Even Lady Qingluan, who extended her life with rare elixirs, passed away at 500."

Mr. Yue felt he hadn't been punitive enough. With a gentle smile, he said, "Qing's cultivation was hampered due to injuries. Your medical texts have plenty of such examples, yet you seem to have forgotten them all. You'll be confined to the rear mountain tomorrow. You may only leave after reciting all 180 scrolls of basic medical texts left by Qingluan."

The color drained from Song Jincheng's face. He wanted to visit his friends at the Tianwu Sect, and thus crawled to Mr. Yue, tears in his eyes, to negotiate: "Great Ancestor, allow me a quick trip to Tianwu Sect before I begin my confinement."

The smile on Mr. Yue's face softened even more.

Song Qing looked at Mr. Yue and had an inexplicable feeling that the boy was in peril. He braved himself to intervene: "Do you have a compelling reason to visit Tianwu Sect?"

Sobbing, Song Jincheng replied, "I suspect something's happened to Ayu. I want to check on him."

Ayu, or Yuwen Yu, was the son of a Tianwu Sect elder. As a frail child, he had spent several years in Medicine King Valley to recuperate. During that period, he and Song Jincheng had become fast friends, sharing countless adventures.

After regaining his health, Yuwen Yu left Medicine King Valley but kept in touch through letters. However, for the past three months, no letters had arrived, which had left Song Jincheng anxious. Seizing the opportunity of failing his exams, he had decided to run away to Tianwu Sect but got sidetracked upon meeting Song Qing.

"He might be in closed-door cultivation," Song Qing rubbed his temples. He wanted to point out that cultivators often became incommunicado for years when busy, but hesitated, feeling as if he had failed in the realm of friendship himself, "Have you tried asking his elders?"

Song Jincheng delicately confessed, "His father despises me and forbids me from getting close to Ayu. We've been seeing each other in secret."

Mr. Yue began, "Tianwumen recently had its disciple examination, so he must've gone to the Yuanming Secret Realm..." He suddenly halted, recalling the unusual disturbances at Tianwumen lately—demons appearing more frequently. "Perhaps we should send someone to investigate."

"He might be injured and didn't want you to worry," Song Qingshi suggested a solution that would serve both ends. "I'll go to Tianwumen to check for you." He recalled reading about a certain gold-attributed grass in the Yuanming Secret Realm, its leaves as sharp as a knife's edge. While not particularly useful, its unique attribute intrigued him for research purposes.

Song Jincheng was deeply touched, "Bro, you're really loyal. I didn't save you in vain."

Mr. Yue crushed the corner of the table.

"I apologize, I forgot about the age factor," Song Jincheng quickly admitted his mistake, ingratiatingly adding, "Qingshi, you're actually my elder brother."

Mr. Yue pointed out, "Qingshi is much older than you in terms of generation."

Song Jincheng furrowed his brows, reconsidering how to address him.

Seeing his expression, Song Qingshi had a bad feeling. He quickly stopped him, "Don't you dare call me Grandpa!"

Half of his soul was still that of a youthful college student; he couldn't bear to be called 'Grandpa' by someone who looked his age.

"I'm not from the Medicine King Valley. Even if I were to re-enter, we would just be classmates. We can't take the generational hierarchy so seriously," Song Qingshi thoughtfully pondered the future. "I think the ranking should be based on cultivation levels, not age."

Song Jincheng turned to Mr. Yue with a pitiful look, "Great-Granduncle..."

Hearing this title, Mr. Yue felt a renewed sense of discomfort in his chest.

He decided that once he returned, he would retreat and change to an avatar of similar age to accompany Song Qingshi in his growth, to avoid being treated like an ancient elder and having his hands tied.

Song Qingshi cheerfully planned his journey to Tianwumen, discussing with Song Jincheng how to meet Yuwen Yu and investigate the situation.

The entrance exams for the Medicine King Valley wouldn't start for another three years. To prepare for special admissions now would still take months.

Song Qingshi was not willing to take shortcuts for admission.

Knowing that once Song Qingshi made up his mind he wouldn't waver, Mr. Yue realized now wasn't the time to forcibly bring him back. However, creating a new avatar would take some preparation time. After some hesitation, he decided to go along with Song Qingshi's wishes, allowing Song Jincheng to accompany him to Tianwumen and take good care of him along the way so that the elder would not be wronged.

While Song Jincheng wasn't particularly skilled at academics or serving his masters, he was diligent in discerning people's wishes. He began to suspect that Song Qingshi was not Mr. Yue's adopted son, but rather a secret illegitimate child. So, he vowed to treat Song Qingshi with the utmost reverence.

He happily blessed, "Brother Qingshi, you're really awesome. I'm not jealous that you have a goddess anymore."

Song Qingshi smiled and said, "I hope I encounter her on the road."

Mr. Yue inquired cautiously, "A goddess?"

"Qingshi is looking for a girl. Unfortunately, he's lost his memory and can't remember her name or face," Song Jincheng came to life upon receiving permission, seeing that his great-granduncle was interested in his future daughter-in-law. He quickly heaped praises on the woman who had captured Song Qingshi's heart, to ensure she would pass the elder's scrutiny. "She's gentle and virtuous, pretty and charming, vivacious and optimistic, kindly and innocent, considerate and dutiful, and even skilled at cooking."

Song Qingshi bashfully added, "Her constitution is rather frail; she needs some care..."

Mr. Yue suppressed the jealousy bubbling up inside him and asked, "So, you're fond of this kind of girl?"

He knew many cultivators were indifferent to gender, but he never thought...

Song Qingshi pondered the flutter in his heart he felt for the woman, confirming, "Yes, I like her. I will find her."

Mr. Yue gently questioned, "What if she doesn't like you? Will you still treat her well?"

"It doesn't matter," Song Qingshi's eyes were filled with resolve, vowing, "As long as I find her, I will give her all the best things and strive to win her affection."

He would pour out all he had, earnestly pursuing the one he loved.

Mr. Yue read his intentions and smiled in blessing, "You will certainly find her."

Though this task was significantly beyond what he had anticipated.

But, it wouldn't be difficult...

Imagining the prospect of shamelessly reducing Song Qingshi to tears in bed, Mr. Yue found the thought... quite intriguing...

Mr. Yue greedily observed the innocent beauty before him; his wild desires caused his lips to dry up slightly...

Patience; now was not the time to reveal himself.

He would execute his plan diligently.

He would regain everything he once had.

How should a cute girl act?

The God-King of the Unending Summit was faced with an unprecedentedly thorny issue. After much contemplation, he summoned Kong Muhua for an audience.

Kong Muhua was an oddity within the Unending Summit. Despite being a male peacock demon and a formidable general on the battlefield wielding two giant axes, he would dress as a dainty lady once transformed into human form. With a strikingly beautiful face and grace in every step, he was the epitome of soft elegance. He loved beauty contests and was proficient at coquetry, to the point where few knew he was actually male.

He consistently topped the list of dream lovers among male cultivators and was the fox demon most wanted dead by female cultivators.

Now, being suddenly summoned by the God-King, Kong Muhua was somewhat nervous, wondering if he had done something wrong.

The Divine Lord dismissed everyone else and approached him. From his hair ornaments to his clothing, from his posture to his gestures, he scrutinized every detail. He even examined the way he styled his hair, the arch of his eyebrows, and listened to the timbre of his voice. He commanded him to walk a few steps and to smile... Lastly, he inquired about the things that women are fond of.

Kong Muhua was entirely taken aback, as if the entire peacock in him was stunned.

He felt that the peak of immortality was about to welcome its mistress.

The Divine Lord possesses impeccable taste, and his discerning eyes are hard to please. How perfect must a beauty be to capture his attention?

Kong Muhua felt the urge to cry. He knew he couldn't match the Divine Lord's beauty. That's why he had dressed as a woman, to take an unconventional approach to win. Now, even this beauty seemed destined to be outshone by the Divine Queen. He felt his life as a peacock was bleak and even unfurling his feathers seemed pointless. He desperately needed the comforting embrace of a gentle and handsome man—someone like Bai Xianzun—to tumble with him in bed, and perhaps even coerce him into marriage.

Any fantasies people had about the Divine Lord should be laid to rest.

Perhaps Bai Xianzun might agree to become his Daoist companion?

Having thought this far, Kong Muhua put aside his sorrow and happily ran off to spread the news.

　...

Inside the Wutong Pavilion, behind the heavy beaded curtains.

The Divine Lord removed his snow-feathered cloak, took a meticulous bath, and stood in front of the mirror, critically examining his own features. As a cultivator in the Divided Spirit stage, it's easy for him to alter his appearance and physique. The challenge lies in how to change it in a way that would win another's heart.

After some thought, he changed himself back to how he looked at fourteen. At that age, his height was just right and his features were androgynous. With a waist so slim it was barely graspable, all he needed to do was to thin his shoulders and slightly reduce the structure of his hands and feet. Suppressing his cultivation to the Foundation Building stage would perfect the delicate image of a frail beauty.

He pondered the common features of those in Zhao Ye's memories, along with Kong Muhua's flawless cross-dressing skills. He refined the details, hiding his Adam's apple, and softening the sharp angles around his eyes. He transformed his vibrant and fiery aura into one of gentle warmth, but the teardrop mole at the corner of his eye couldn't be hidden, nor could his worldly sensuality.

After much deliberation, he gave up on altering the teardrop mole.

Although most mission targets had been pure beauties, he knew that Song Qingshi liked those with vibrant, passionate qualities. So, he couldn't entirely discard the traits of Yue Wuhuan... He smiled at his reflection, allowing a glint of desire to flow through his dignified eyes, blooming solely for one person.

The subtle allure within the pure aura, a momentary lapse into indulgence amidst sanctity and austerity—that's what pulls men into the abyss. Just as what Song Qingshi had done to him in bed—absolute delight.

Even with the cycle of lost memories, promises must be kept.

Song Qingshi proposed, and he agreed; they were committed Daoist companions, with no room for second thoughts.

While he would not force anything upon an amnesiac, he had no intention of playing the gentleman either; he would employ whatever means necessary.

He refrained from pondering whether such means were madness or perversion, for his feelings had long been uncontrollable.

As Song Qingshi once said during a treatment, desire is not something to be ashamed of; not to suppress one's natural instincts and to release them freely could aid in recovery.

He hoped that Song Qingshi could practice what he preached, making every effort to properly treat himself.

　...

Mr. Yue attentively cared for Song Qingshi without sparing a moment, keeping close to him at all times and administering countless elixirs and remedies.

Song Qingshi's wounds healed quickly, but his sleep was restless. Each morning he found himself lying on Mr. Yue's legs, his mouth swollen and even torn at places. Despite drinking herbal teas to reduce inflammation, there was no noticeable improvement. He suspected it was due to the dry climate and his weakened constitution.

Mr. Yue found the herbal teas too bitter and suggested he try honey as a more palatable alternative.

Song Qingshi was immensely grateful, praising Mr. Yue daily for his kindness.

Watching from the sidelines, Song Jincheng became increasingly convinced that their relationship was more than just a simple friendship. His own father had never cared for him with such tenderness, much less offer him unrestricted spending money. Therefore, he suspected that Song Qingshi must be Mr. Yue's illegitimate son, a fact carefully concealed for some reason.

Recalling how he had struggled to fulfill Mr. Yue's last request, Song Jincheng regretted his lack of diligence as he had been reprimanded and sent to reflect on his shortcomings.

This time, he was determined to seize the opportunity to gain Mr. Yue's favor, lest he suffer the same fate as his older peers—though their hair had regrown thanks to hair-restoring medicines, they became laughingstocks and remained single to this day.

Filled with ambition, Song Jincheng ran errands to procure all sorts of travel essentials for Song Qingshi.

At last, everything was in its place.

Mr. Yue announced that he had matters to attend to and would have to leave. Before his departure, he produced a snow-white robe with wide sleeves, explaining that it was a parting gift specially tailored for him at Skillful Cloth Workshop a few days earlier.

Song Qing's robe had long since worn out, so he was thrilled to see this new one that he immediately took a liking to. He put it on right there and then, expressing his thanks over and over.

Mr. Yue smiled as he tidied up Song Qing's disheveled strands of hair, then took his leave.

As Song Qing began to pack his bags, preparing to set off, it suddenly occurred to him that he had forgotten to arrange for transportation. Song Jincheng had skipped school without permission and dared not use any flying ships from Medicine King Valley, and the remote town where they were now staying had few cultivators passing through. There was neither a Beast Gate nor any high-grade flying ships available.

Standing on the main street, both men looked at each other for a long while before finally purchasing two swift spirit horses. They calculated their route on the map and planned to ride for three days to reach Ruinan City, where they would rent a flying ship from the Beast Gate.

The two men mounted their horses and rode off, stirring up a cloud of dust.

From the moment he left the city, Song Qing felt he was being watched. He looked back and saw the beautiful red celestial bird he had encountered days earlier following him once more.

He waved his hand.

The celestial bird flew down and affectionately perched on his shoulder, pecking gently at his ear as if to be playful.

"What a beautiful bird," Song Jincheng said, amused by the interaction. He took out some seeds to tease it, "Come on, let big brother touch your tail."

The red celestial bird turned its neck slowly and stared coldly at him. Suddenly, it spat out a burst of flame, setting both Song Jincheng's clothes and hair alight. Panicked, Song Jincheng flailed about, scattering sparks everywhere. Even the spirit horse's tail caught fire, causing it to leap up and bolt forward, carrying a screaming Song Jincheng.

Song Qing was stunned. He turned back slowly to look at the mysterious red celestial bird on his shoulder, realizing this was not a creature to be trifled with.

The celestial bird once again nuzzled his cheek, then lowered its head to preen its feathers, pretending as if nothing untoward had happened.

The wails of Song Jincheng grew louder, "Qing, come quick!"

His tone shifted with each word, and the last two words even cracked.

Sensing that something was off, Song Qing quickly rode over, only to find an injured, unconscious young woman in red lying near a cliff. She appeared to have suffered an accident up in the mountains and had rolled down, her head wounded and bleeding, multiple abrasions on her hands and feet, and what seemed to be a sprained ankle.

The young woman was extraordinarily delicate, her complexion a light honey hue. Her features were like artwork, perfectly beautiful in every respect. Long eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings. A tiny red teardrop-shaped mark below her left eye added an indescribable allure. She was dressed in a red ice-silk gown that had been torn in several places while running, revealing her slender neck and a hint of collarbone. Her hairpins were askew, and her black hair spread out like silk upon the green grass...

Song Qing felt slightly confused, "I feel like I've seen this young lady somewhere before."

Song Jincheng agreed, "I get that feeling every time I see a beautiful girl."

Song Qing found himself choked up, belatedly realizing the inappropriateness of his words. Shaking off the jumble of emotions in his head, he crouched down to assess the young woman's injuries.

"The head wound looks serious; she might have a minor concussion. Immediate treatment is required to prevent any deterioration." Skillfully, Song Qing inserted acupuncture needles, channeling his spiritual energy to dissipate the internal bleeding. He then prepared a diluted Clarity Pill for her to swallow.

"Are you sure about this?" Song Jincheng looked worried. He had never seen this kind of acupuncture technique and was concerned that Song Qing was posing as an expert, risking the well-being of the beautiful young woman. "Maybe we should take her to a medical clinic for professional treatment."

Having finished the acupuncture and bandaged the wounds, Song Qing looked bewildered, "Why would we need another doctor? I am a physician."

Song Jincheng pointed out sternly, "You don't seem particularly reliable."

Feeling his credentials were again in question, Song Qing seemed rather vexed, "I am very skilled in medicine."

Song Jincheng pressed, "Do you know Huangque Suture Technique? Dongniang's Eighteen Needles? Huang's Bone-Setting Method? These techniques have been handed down for almost a thousand years. Every physician knows them."

Song Qing continued to look puzzled...

Song Jincheng sighed and shook his head.

Song Qing, realizing his reputation was about to be smeared, quickly retorted, "I know the Ghostly Divine Eighty-Eight Needles."

"The Ghostly Divine Eighty-Eight Needles? The enigmatic, so-called 'world's best needle technique'?" Song Jincheng almost laughed, "Even Medicine King Valley doesn't have any records of it. Where did you learn that?"

"I can't remember," Song Qing massaged his forehead, feeling the technique imprinted in his mind, easily accessible and effective as if he used it regularly, "but I really do know it."

He just couldn't remember how he had learned it...

After some contemplation and convinced of his own proficiency, Song Qing saw that Song Jincheng had no better treatment plan. He crouched down and continued with the acupuncture to align her meridians, facilitating her recovery.

As the internal bleeding dissipated, the young woman in red began to regain consciousness. With dazed phoenix-like eyes, she gently rearranged her disheveled collar, modestly covering the torn parts of her dress. Then, casting her eyes on both men, she finally fixed her gaze on Song Qing for a long time, softly asking, "Were you the one who saved me?"

"We were just passing by," Song Qing, not wanting to be misunderstood, quickly introduced himself and Song Jincheng as apothecaries, finally asking, "What's your name? Where's your home? We'll take you back."

The young woman in red thought for a while and shook her head, mournfully saying, "I don't know."

Song Jincheng expressed his surprise, "You've lost your memory too?"

He looked at Song Qing accusingly, as if suggesting that it was the acupuncture that had messed up her brain.

"Transient memory loss due to concussion isn't uncommon. Her condition seems more serious than we initially thought; she should be under medical observation," Song Qing felt increasingly awkward under the scrutiny, resolute to admit her for medical care to prove his competency. He pulled out a notebook to jot down her condition, then hesitated, not knowing her name, "Let's call her Little..."

Sensing something amiss, the young woman in red swiftly intervened, "I think my name might be Feng Jun."

Song Qing hesitated for a moment, crossing out the name he had scribbled in the medical record. He had initially thought of naming her "Little Red."

Song Qing Shi curiously asked: "Does 'Feng Jun' feel like a nickname to you?"

"It is a nickname," replied the red-dressed young lady who called herself Feng Jun, gently tugging at his sleeve. "I vaguely remember my mother calling me that, but my head hurts so much, I can't remember anything else…"

Song Qing Shi doubted Feng Jun's head injury was severe enough to cause memory loss, but then thought of his own unexplained amnesia and hesitated. Perhaps partial memory loss is a common occurrence in this world of cultivation?

Feng Jun's mysterious origins, combined with his appealing appearance and demeanor, inexplicably drew Song Qing Shi in. His sweet scent even elicited an urge to take him home and pamper him.

Song Qing Shi thought hard; his memories consisted solely of medical studies and research, and he had never had such odd feelings for a girl before, no matter how beautiful. Could it be that in the memories he lost, his personality had drastically changed, leading him to commit despicable acts?

A vague fragment suddenly flashed through his mind.

It seemed he had once pinned down some beauty in the dead of night, forcefully kissing them despite their resistance. The beauty had almost burst into tears…

That's the behavior of a scoundrel, isn't it?

Song Qing Shi began to feel somewhat anxious...

Feng Jun kept his head lowered, occasionally stealing glances at Song Qing Shi's expression as if he were silently contemplating something. Meanwhile, Song Jin Cheng had long since been enthralled by Feng Jun's allure, rambling endlessly while pledging that both of them were good people.

Song "Questionable Intentions" Qing Shi felt increasingly guilty as he listened. Straightening his posture, he attempted to feign the demeanor of an upright gentleman.

The red phoenix bird that had been perched on his shoulder had flown away unnoticed.

Suddenly, the sound of snapping tree branches and soft, raspy breaths echoed through the woods.

Feng Jun's face turned pale in an instant. Gripping Song Qing Shi, he shouted, "Run!"

Song Qing Shi, too, picked up on the unusual noises and inquired, "What is that?"

"It's a snake, a snake demon," Feng Jun said, trembling with fear. "I remember now, I was being pursued by this snake demon when I fell off the cliff. You should both run…"

The Valley of the Medicine King harbored numerous venomous snakes for the extraction of medicinal ingredients, so the apprentices were skilled at catching snakes.

Song Jin Cheng, unafraid, drew his sword from his mustard seed bag and positioned himself in front of Feng Jun, declaring, "Fear not! A mere snake demon stands no chance against me!"

A colossal white snake emerged from the woods, its silvery scales tinged with moss, its eyes glowing like red lanterns. It flicked its forked tongue, several meters in length, while intently sniffing the air and growing increasingly agitated.

Song Qing Shi was not afraid of snakes, but he had never encountered one so terrifying. Gazing at the snake's gaping maw large enough to swallow an elephant, he felt apprehensive. "Jin Cheng, are you sure you can handle it?"

Song Jin Cheng's sword trembled uncontrollably in his hand, his legs also shaking, and tears unwillingly spilled from his eyes.

Feng Jun cautiously gauged both their expressions and suggested, "Shall we run instead?"

"Run!" Song Qing Shi made a snap decision, issuing the command to retreat. Casting aside any other considerations, he swiftly hoisted Feng Jun onto the spirit horse, then leapt on himself. With one arm tightly holding Feng Jun to prevent him from falling, and the other hand wielding the whip, he spurred the horse to flee from the snake demon's hunting ground at the greatest speed.

Feng Jun wrapped his arms around Song Qing Shi's waist, burying his face deep into his chest and inhaling the fragrance of medicinal herbs, trembling with excitement. He was enamored with Song Qing Shi's reaction, relishing the sensation of being treasured and protected.

Observing Feng Jun's tremors, Song Qing Shi comforted, "Don't worry, I will definitely save you."

Feng Jun took a deep breath to calm himself and softly said, "Okay."

Song Jin Cheng also leapt onto the horse, galloping away as though wishing the horse had eight legs.

Three thousand years ago, after An Long succumbed to demonic influence, he severed his spiritual contract with Hao Long and abandoned it in the wilderness. After Yue Wu Huan's rebirth and ascension to godhood, considering Hao Long as Song Qing Shi's favorite, he not only spared its life but also nurtured it. Forcing it into combat against various advanced beasts on the battlefields of the world, Hao Long became a renowned demon in the realm of cultivation.

Hao Long, lacking in intelligence, failed to comprehend Yue Wu Huan's motives. Tormented endlessly, it yearned for hibernation.

Yue Wu Huan would always deceive it, saying, "If you behave, Qing Shi will return and make you his pet."

Hao Long believed in this promise, enduring the hellish training while exerting its utmost effort as Yue Wu Huan's laborer.

It harbored the dream of becoming the world's best pet snake.

Yesterday, Yue Wu Huan had requested that Hao Long use its divine power to inflict some wounds upon him, to which Hao Long obediently complied. Upon reflection, it sensed something amiss. If Yue Wu Huan could self-inflict the injuries, why involve it? Was it because the wounds would be discovered if they were self-inflicted?

Hao Long felt more astute than it ever had, cautiously sniffing the air and shadowing Yue Wu Huan to Hei Yan Mountain.

As expected, Song Qing Shi had returned!

Hao Long detected the scent and was elated, yearning to leap forth and act affectionately. Yet Song Qing Shi, under Yue Wu Huan's instigation, fled without even a reunion hug. Hao Long had no concept of human genders and saw nothing strange in Yue Wu Huan's cross-dressing.

This guise of Yue Wu Huan's was clearly that of a seductive villainess from literature, intent on driving a wedge between Hao Long and Song Qing Shi's favorite-pet relationship!

Distraught, Hao Long gave chase in a frenzy.

Song Jin Cheng was in tears, terrified that he would end up as snake feed. He wailed, "I am an unfilial son, causing my parents the grief of burying their child!"

Feng Jun commented dryly, "They could always have another one…"

Back then, he had promised to take care of Qing Luan's descendants. Unfortunately, Qing Luan's lineage had thinned, leaving only the foolish Song Jin Cheng. Killing him would spell the end of Qing Luan's line, leaving no replacements.

He was immensely hesitant…

Now that this fool had become the savior of Song Qing Shi, killing him was even less an option. Perhaps once they returned to the Valley of the Medicine King, he could confine Song Jin Cheng to the back mountains until he purged himself of his foolishness.

Feng Jun, lying against Song Qing Shi, grew irritated by the shrieks beside him and began plotting in earnest.

Song Qing Shi suddenly noticed that the girl's chest was as flat as his own. When lifting her earlier, he'd estimated her weight to be around a hundred pounds, and couldn't help wondering where all the 'mass' had gone.

He was somewhat curious but dared not ask or ponder further. His sister had warned him that such matters were a woman's private domain; asking would be considered harassment, punishable by death.

The more Song Qing thought about it, the less confident he became about his own moral character.

Two spirited horses fled frantically ahead, with a massive serpent in hot pursuit behind them. They sprinted across three mountains before a red phoenix finally appeared, clawing at the foolish snake and beating it relentlessly, thus putting an end to this high-stakes chase.

The spirited horses were so exhausted they were frothing at the mouth, nearly collapsing.

A small town emerged in their sight. Observing the darkening sky, Song Qing led the group to an inn for some rest. Although small, the town was a bustling hub due to its strategic location. Song Qing handed the spirited horses over to the inn's attendant and, not lacking in funds, instructed him to buy some restorative herbs from the apothecary to feed the horses.

The innkeeper greeted them warmly, saying, "We have two rooms available."

Seizing the opportunity to display gentlemanly conduct, Song Qing said, "Two men and one woman—two rooms will suffice. Jin Cheng and I can share one."

Song Jin Cheng patted his chest in assurance that he would not take advantage of the girl.

Upon hearing the arrangements, Feng Jun paused for a moment and then smiled gently. He expressed a desire to find some food from the kitchen for everyone. Donning his silk gloves, he gracefully walked away. Roughly a quarter of an hour later, several cultivators rushed downstairs, their faces drained of color, stammering about going off to engage in intense spiritual cultivation. They insisted on checking out immediately, even forgoing the room fees.

Seeing their expressions, the innkeeper almost thought his establishment was haunted.

Song Jin Cheng announced that money was not an issue and didn't want to share a room with another man. Seizing the opportunity, Song Qing upgraded to three adjoining upper-level rooms. Feng Jun returned, elegantly carrying a bowl of sweet soup and handed it to Song Qing, saying, "The kitchen was somewhat understocked, so I made something simple. I hope you won't mind my rusty culinary skills."

As Song Qing looked into Feng Jun's deep golden eyes, which seemed to contain entire galaxies, he found them more enchanting than the food. Before he could hesitate, Feng Jun lifted a spoonful of the sweet soup, gently blew on it, and fed it directly into Song Qing's mouth—a sequence executed with practiced grace.

The taste of the sweet soup, carrying a subtle hint of honey, ignited a sensory memory etched deep into his bones, further muddling Song Qing's thoughts. His ears tinged red as he was caught off guard by Feng Jun's glowing smile; feeling cornered yet unable to resist, his foot was softly hooked under the table by Feng Jun.

"Don't reject me," Feng Jun whispered, smiling.

His voice was sumptuous, laden with a tone that brooked no argument.

Song Qing found himself unable to deny any of Feng Jun's requests and obediently withdrew his hand.

Once again, Feng Jun scooped up a spoonful of sweet soup, smiling as he instructed, "Sit properly."

Like a conditioned reflex, Song Qing promptly sat up and obediently opened his mouth.

"What about my portion?" Song Jin Cheng grumbled.

Feng Jun gave him a cursory glance and averted his eyes, stating nonchalantly, "Ask the kitchen staff to prepare something for you."

He continued to feed Song Qing the sweet soup, as if Song Qing were the only person in his world.

Song Jin Cheng glanced from the goddess with love-filled, shimmering eyes to Song Qing, who was blushing and focused intently on his soup. How could he not understand the goddess's feelings? Jealousy welled up in him to the point of tears. Was he not handsome enough? Was his personality lacking? Why did every goddess prefer delicate, meek-faced men over sunny and dashing young men like himself? Was it too late to change his image? The next time he saw Yuwen Yu, he planned to invite his friend for drinks and pour out his heart. Together, they would navigate the lonely, agonizing path of singledom.

Transmuting his sadness and frustration into appetite, he ordered the innkeeper to serve eight lavish dishes. He ate voraciously, as if eating could fill the void in his heart.

　...

Hao Long was deep in contemplation.

Though both his former master and Yue Wu Huan had criticized him for having brawn at the expense of brains, years had passed and Hao Long's intelligence had slowly increased. At least he had realized that sticking with his useless former master led nowhere; he needed to emulate Yue Wu Huan to win any favor.

So, when he had the ability to transform into a human, he decisively blended the appearances of Yue Wu Huan and Song Qing, turning into an irresistibly adorable young boy—around three years old—with long black hair, golden phoenix eyes, and a porcelain-white face.

Then, he referred to human social dynamics to find a way to make Song Qing adopt him.

Seeing that the bird had flown far away, Hao Long covertly emerged from his hiding place, transformed into human form, concealed his demonic aura, and entered the inn. Following the scent, he found Song Qing and the others dining. Undeterred by the intimidating aura that Yue Wu Huan exuded, he ran up and hugged Song Qing's thigh, crying out:

"Daddy!"

Song Qing was so startled that he dropped his chopsticks.

Feng Jun put down his bowl heavily, walked over with a stern face, and scolded Hao Long while tugging on his ear, "What sort of language is that?"

Tears brimmed in Hao Long's eyes. Contemplating human relational dynamics, he modified his call:

"Mommy…"

The attention of everyone in the inn converged on them.

Song Qingshi instinctively wanted to deny having a child, but the resemblance was uncanny—the skin tone, facial features, hair, and nose mirrored his own, while the eyes and mouth resembled Feng Jun's. From a genetic standpoint, no one would believe him if he claimed the child wasn't his.

Feng Jun sighed. He had declared war on the whole cultivation world with the Undying Summit as his base, purging corruption and venting his hatred through slaughter. He couldn't guarantee success, but the chances of Song Qingshi returning to this realm were high. Recognizing individuals through scent and soul, Haolong, the spirit snake, was raised into a formidable demon to serve as Song Qingshi's protective talisman.

Haolong was undyingly loyal and pure of thought toward Song Qingshi; there seemed to be no major issues initially...

Feng Jun had intended for this snake to stay peacefully at the Undying Summit, planning to gift it later to Song Qingshi as a demon pet. But the foolishly unpredictable creature, akin to Song Jincheng, often took unexpected courses of action.

The audacious snake even dared to call him "Mom"?

He was somewhat inclined to establish their Dao companionship officially, sealing it with a Dao companion mark and whisking his partner away.

Yet, how could he explain to Song Qingshi who bore their "son" after revealing his male identity in bed?

Feng Jun put on his thin veiled gloves, intending to have a heart-to-heart with the foolish snake.

Sensing danger, Haolong clung tightly to Song Qingshi's leg and wailed for his life. It was cursed, preventing it from uttering "Yue Wuhuan" and ignorant of this transformed being's name. It could only repeatedly cry out, "Daddy, save me!"

The onlookers began to gossip, condemning the irresponsibility of the parents.

Song Qingshi sank into deep thought...

Treading carefully, Song Jincheng asked, "Could it be that Feng Jun is the one you've been looking for? You even have a child together?"

Feng Jun paused and looked at Song Qingshi.

Song Qingshi composed himself and scrutinized Feng Jun's face and physique. He then reached out to gently touch his striking features, including the teardrop mole below his left eye. His reflection was mirrored in those dark-gold irises, tinged with indescribable complex emotions. He felt a headache coming on, as if something was obstructing his thoughts.

This selective amnesia was rather intriguing.

Wasn't the resistance of his memory an indication that such a thing once existed in his recollections?

Was this an attempt to cover up the truth?

After contemplating for a long while, Song Qingshi finally smiled. He picked up Haolong, played with him on his lap, and said, "I can't recall the past, but perhaps he truly is my son. If no one claims him, let's keep him. Maybe he can help me gradually recover my memory. What's your name, kid?"

Haolong successfully recognized his master and was so thrilled that he couldn't contain himself, chirping, "Xiaobai!"

Feng Jun was stunned.

Song Qingshi pressed on: "Is Feng Jun really your mom?"

Haolong declared emphatically: "Yes!"

The snake couldn't care less whether Yue Wuhuan's incarnation was male or female—all were "mom" to him! Besides, with "dad" around, even if he misbehaved, he was safe from fatal punishment.

Feng Jun glanced at Haolong, took a deep breath, and reined in his emotions. Over the years, he had tolerated this foolish snake primarily because it had a lovable face and a clean disposition that somewhat resembled a young Song Qingshi—offering him a modicum of comfort.

When Song Qingshi left without notice, Feng Jun had so little to hold onto. He had privately drawn countless portraits and created magical illusions that moved. Yet, these lifeless creations never felt right. He felt that they somehow defiled Song Qingshi's existence and eventually destroyed them, not wanting to rely on counterfeits for reminiscence.

He forced himself to preserve all the things Song Qingshi loved—the Medicinal King Valley, the peach grove, the lab, the library, and creatures like Qingluan, Minghong, and Haolong.

Eventually, all these things changed.

Buildings weathered and decayed with time; traces were erased through repeated restorations. The peach grove was burnt down during an attack on the Medicinal King Valley. The people he and Song Qingshi once knew passed away one by one. Only a few remained now that his cultivation had reached new heights.

Song Qingshi had once said that life itself is hope and implored him not to destroy the world.

He had complied with it all.

Yet, Song Qingshi had returned on a mission, bound to save others.

He had to force himself to accept it.

How detestable—detesting fate, detesting the system, detesting everything in this world.

He stared at Song Qingshi, his fingers bitten fiercely, suppressing all his desires—he wanted to lose control but couldn't.

Song Qingshi gently pulled his finger from his mouth: "Don't bite; you'll get hurt."

"I lost my composure," Feng Jun smiled and played with Haolong, "I may not remember, but this child is truly adorable."

He felt his overthinking had led him down a rabbit hole created by these fools. For now, he'd let them create chaos and see what Song Qingshi's true intentions were. If the desired answer was not reached, he would enact his final plan—obliterate this detestable world, exterminate all beings, eliminate all right and wrong answers, and lock Song Qingshi's soul in a realm untouchable by the system, leaving him with only one choice: Feng Jun.

So, he would not fail.

Amid his increasingly tender smile, Haolong sensed danger and stiffened.

Feng Jun leaned into its ear and whispered softly, "Do you want to eat a mouse or some rotten flesh?"

"A mouse," Haolong responded, only to realize something was amiss. Quickly, it corrected itself, "No, Xiaobai wants meat…"

Picking up some greens from the table, Feng Jun spoon-fed them into Haolong's mouth with an expression of utter tenderness but an uncompromising forcefulness. "Children should not be picky eaters."

Song Qingshi nodded in agreement, "True."

Haolong dared not resist, nearly choked with emotion as it swallowed.

　...

Night was falling. Song Jincheng said he was worn out from being chased by the snake and retired early.

"Children always sleep with their 'mom'," Feng Jun stated, disregarding Haolong's protest as he dragged it back to his room. Haolong attempted to plead for help, but Song Qingshi, engrossed in a book, reassured it: "In this world, no father dares to disobey the mother. You'll be fine."

Two resounding thumps emanated from Feng Jun's room, then a soundproof barrier descended, and all fell quiet.

Song Qingshi reclined in a reclining chair, a booklet in hand, but his mind was pondering the content on its pages rather than turning them.

Feng Jun entered carrying a dish of ice cream, setting it on the low table. Seeing that Song Qingshi was engrossed in his book and oblivious to his surroundings, he took the opportunity to unabashedly study him. After all these years, his affection remained undiminished—loving his eyes, his nose, his mouth, his body, his skin, even his personality and each strand of his hair…

A mischievous smile crept onto his lips. Quietly he removed his wooden clogs, extending his bare feet from beneath his red gauze skirt. Stealthily, his toes ascended along Song Qingshi's leg, as light as a butterfly landing. Reaching the thigh and still undetected, he nipped slightly in annoyance, then withdrew, resuming a dignified posture.

The sudden pinch startled Song Qingshi back to reality. He noticed Feng Jun, who was now sitting opposite him, his freshly washed hair still damp and cascading over his shoulders, flowing nearly to his ankles. His frail physique was cloaked in an oversized red robe, its broad sleeves and ample material tied haphazardly with a sash, outlining long legs and a slender waist. Despite this, his expression remained dignified, his eyes imbued with an inviolable majesty—as if he had never misbehaved.

The air grew chilly, and it would be uncomfortable to be so scantily clad.

Decisively, Song Qingshi draped a white robe over him, tucking it tightly so as not to expose anything. Then he grabbed the ice cream, took a bite, and paused to marvel at the familiar taste before praising, "This is delicious."

Feng Jun, who hadn't expected Song Qingshi to catch his subtle cues, leaned on the table and inquired with a playful smile, "So, a father should listen to the mother? Will you listen to me?"

Waves of autumnal sentiment stirred their hearts.

Song Qingshi felt flustered under his gaze and found himself replying, "I will…"

Feng Jun drew closer, the robe that had just been tightly wrapped mysteriously falling open again. He whispered hotly into his ear, "How will you listen?"

Song Qingshi found his scent sweetly familiar, intoxicating him slightly, "How would you like me to listen?"

Before he could even finish, the tip of Feng Jun's tongue lightly brushed against his earlobe.

Song Qingshi couldn't help but let out a soft moan of pleasure. He was unaware of how sensitive his ears were, and the sensation seemed to trigger a strange response throughout his entire body.

He was somewhat fearful of this sensation and tried to pull back, but his hands were held fast.

Lord Feng, with his immense strength, drew him closer into his embrace, immobilizing him.

Immediately thereafter, his entire earlobe was enveloped by warm lips and playfully teased. The ticklish sensation was almost unbearable...

Song Qingshi was nearly reduced to tears by his touch. Tears swirled in his eyes, but he restrained himself from begging for mercy.

Finally, Lord Feng released his earlobe, took Song Qingshi's hand—the one he had used to grab the popsicle—and admired it for a moment. He sniffed the pleasant medicinal scent, then inspected each finger before softly asking, "Why didn't you use your mystic fire on me?"

Relieved, Song Qingshi exhaled, "It would have burned you, and I didn't want to hurt you."

Lord Feng smiled softly and whispered, "You have popsicle crumbs on your fingers; allow me to take care of that for you."

Song Qingshi assumed he would use a handkerchief to wipe them clean and obediently extended his hand. To his surprise, Lord Feng took his fingertips into his mouth, sweeping over each inch of skin with a moist breath, savoring the lingering sweetness. Yet, his phoenix eyes were filled with an indescribable desire, as if he was tasting something far more intriguing. It led to thoughts most provocative. Song Qingshi was stunned and tried to pull his hand away, but his modest Foundation Building level cultivation and lack of body refinement offered him no real resistance, especially when he was unwilling to unleash his internal twin fires. His feeble resistance only seemed to whet the appetite of a savage predator.

Their fingers interlocked, pressed against the back of the chair. There was no refusal.

Lord Feng leaned close to his face, his breath nearly touching his lips, mere inches away, and concluded, "You are quite delectable."

After a moment of thought, Song Qingshi asked, "Lord Feng, when is your birthday?"

Caught off guard, Lord Feng answered, puzzled, "February 14th."

A greedy kiss descended, forcefully prying open the space between his teeth, in search of more delectable tastes.

Song Qingshi ceased his struggle, endeavoring to endure all that was happening. As familiarity settled in, he gradually relaxed, becoming compliant and beginning to revel in the sweetness of the kiss.

A torrential kiss slammed against his heart, its tide rising and falling, generating ripples that seemed unending…

Overwhelmed, Song Qing choked out, "Stop, stop…"

Finally, Feng Jun released his lips, moved down to his Adam's apple, and branded a love bite there with a teasing flick of his tongue, then relaxed his grip.

"Ah," Song Qing involuntarily arched his back and let out a soft moan. Quickly, he pushed Feng Jun away, "I'm not prepared."

"Why?" Feng Jun stared intently at him, his reddened eyes tinged with a horrifying hue; his rationality was stretched to its limit, teetering on the brink of chaotic madness.

Song Qing readjusted Feng Jun's robe and tidied his own clothes, smoothing his disheveled hair. He sighed, "This is a serious matter that involves forming a spiritual partnership. Although I feel affection for you, my memories are in disarray. I need to clarify many things before getting intimate."

What if during his amnesiac period, he had unknowingly wronged someone, committed a crime, or amassed debts? How could he be worthy of forming a spiritual partnership with Feng Jun then?

Besides, he felt that he should consult Mr. Yue on such a crucial matter. Mr. Yue had been so kind to him and felt like the closest person in his life. Song Qing had a strong sense of trust and intimacy towards Mr. Yue.

The anger that had flared up in Feng Jun from his interrupted desires receded. He asked, baffled, "Even with your amnesia, you still feel affection for me?"

Why? He had changed his appearance, even dressed as a woman.

"I don't know, but I feel something for you," said Song Qing, planting a kiss on Feng Jun's cheek. Recalling the emotions described in that notebook, he smiled, "Perhaps... no matter how many times I lose my memory, or whatever you become, I will fall for you at first sight." He felt inescapably drawn to Feng Jun, irresistibly so.

Feng Jun pondered for a long moment, then touched the love bite on Song Qing's throat, apologizing, "I was too rough. I... I don't know why I acted so impulsively." He had planned to take things slow, but the moment presented itself, and he went too far, almost consuming all that stood before him.

"It's okay, I liked it," Song Qing assured him.

Feng Jun knew Song Qing had a knack for unconsciously uttering tantalizing words. Suppressing his resurgent desires, he wanted to tell him that they had done all this before and that it was okay to forget. They could simply acknowledge their past, form a spiritual bond, and then explore other aspects of their relationship.

But how should he account for everything?

He hesitated...

Cutting straight to the point, Song Qing asked, "Who exactly are you, Feng Jun? I sense you have another name. What was our past like? How did we meet and why did we part?"

Meeting Song Qing's clear gaze, Feng Jun felt a familiar suffocation.

How could he possibly say, "I am Yue Wu Huan, the disgraced one who has been wronged by the world? We met in Jin Feng Mountain Villa, a demonic lair where I was a serving slave and you saved me during my moment of desperation. I am an obsessively infatuated admirer with psychological issues, and my love destroyed your spiritual cultivation, resulting in our separation after you chose the wrong answer in the system and lost your memories."

He didn't want to be Yue Wu Huan, didn't want to face the past or make the same mistakes. He yearned for a fresh start...

"I don't know," Feng Jun gripped Song Qing's sleeve tightly, head bowed, pleading in agony, "Please, don't ask anymore. I truly love you. You said I could be willful..."

When had he become so insatiable? His desires were growing, almost uncontrollably. He wanted everything—a clean slate, a pure relationship, even if it meant acquiring it through deceit.

He responded with a smile that was almost cruel, "I have forgotten everything about the past, not a single memory remains."

Anyone could tell it was a lie, but he wanted to force Song Qing to accept it.

"Don't be sad. You can be willful," Song Qing understood his intentions and ceased his inquiries, comforting him softly, "If my memories bring you pain, then let's... let's do away with them."

"Start anew?" Feng Jun asked quietly.

"Start anew," Song Qing confirmed.

If the other wished to start anew, then he would earnestly pursue him all over again, engage in a sincere relationship, and when the lingering shadows of insecurity had finally dispersed, he would buy a ring, propose earnestly, and strive to be the perfect spiritual partner.

Experiencing the pinnacle of pleasure once more, Feng Jun inhaled the scent at the nape of Song Qing's neck and steadied his breath, "I can still hold back."

Floating on cloud nine, he set aside thoughts of the ultimate contingency plan for the moment. Those two troublesome fools could be dealt with in a gentler fashion.

Song Qing took out pen and paper, and began to write a letter.

Feng Jun glanced at it and realized it was addressed to Mr. Yue. He asked, surprised, "Why are you writing to him?"

"He's been close to me, a reliable elder whom I greatly admire," Song Qing replied, biting the end of his pen as he concentrated on his letter. "I've found someone I want to seriously be with, and I want to inform him. We'll need a witness when we form our spiritual partnership, won't we?"

Suddenly, Feng Jun felt as if he had plummeted from heavenly heights...

He sensed that if the truth ever emerged, he might be doomed.

Could he preemptively "eliminate" Mr. Yue and keep this a secret?

But how?

And what would happen to the heartbroken Song Qing?

　...

Song Jin Cheng lay shivering in his bed, hugging his quilt tightly.

Despite being a general underachiever, he possessed an unusually keen vision and observational skills—and an extraordinarily unlucky streak. When he got out of bed to go to the bathroom, he saw a strange shadow cast upon the window across from him.

It appeared as if Miss Feng Jun had entered the room, leading a child named Xiao Bai. A moment later, the window shook, and the shadow of an immense serpent filled almost the entire room. For a moment, he thought to scream, fearing that Miss Feng Jun had been devoured. However, her shadow reappeared next to that of the serpent, and not just that; her shadow seemed to elongate, resembling a man. Terrifying shadows of tendrils sprouted and tightly coiled around the serpent's vital area...

Both shadows vanished in an instant.

He hid behind the window's slit, rubbing his eyes for a while, questioning if what he had seen was an illusion.

After what felt like an eternity, the door opened, and Miss Feng Jun gracefully exited the room. Just as Song Jin Cheng was about to breathe a sigh of relief, he noticed what seemed like a large white snake tail swaying inside the room as she closed the door—identical to the serpent they had encountered during the day.

There was no snake shadow on the window anymore.

Had a protective barrier been cast?

Who, exactly, was Miss Feng Jun?

Terrified beyond measure, Song Jin Cheng watched with wide eyes as Miss Feng Jun carried an ice cream into Song Qing's room. He was at a loss as to how to rescue his brother from the clutches of what seemed like a supernatural being.

Steeling his resolve, he feigned nonchalance as he walked past Song Qingshi's window. Peering through a slight gap in the carelessly closed window, he was stunned to see Miss Feng Jun passionately kissing Song Qingshi. The fool, Song Qingshi, was so enthralled he didn't realize he was entranced by a seductive serpent.

"Wake up, brother! That's a demon disguised as a beauty! A male demon, taller than you by half a head, capable of easily summoning giant snakes! You can't consume him; you'll be consumed! According to the records from senior sister, this demon will likely throw you on the bed, forcefully dominate you, and commit indescribable atrocities—perhaps even consume you afterward! It's a human tragedy!"

Song Jincheng felt faint...

Don't blame him for lacking the courage to rush in and save the day. Even if he had it, it would be a futile, two-for-one deal.

All he could do was silently pray that the demon was interested only in lust, not in taking a life. If Song Qingshi was still breathing come morning, he'd attempt a rescue.

"Ah, why is Brother Qingshi so ill-fated? Losing his memory and abilities was bad enough, even forgetting the name of his goddess, and now he's involved with such a terrifying creature. His luck is even worse than mine."

Song Jincheng tossed and turned, eyes fixed on Song Qingshi's door, waiting for the dawn. When he saw no sign of Feng Jun, he grew increasingly distressed, fearing that Song Qingshi couldn't have made it through the night.

After some thought, he decided to write a letter to Mr. Yue, detailing what he had witnessed. If this turned out to be his last testament, he implored Mr. Yue to inform his parents not to grieve and to exact revenge on the demon for both of them.

Song Jincheng discreetly sent the letter through a messenger bird, then hid under the covers, awaiting his tragic fate.

As the sun rose high, Feng Jun finally emerged from the room, satiated, and headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

Seizing the opportunity, Song Jincheng snuck in to find Song Qingshi lying on the bed, weary, wrapped in a quilt, his long hair disheveled, eyes red and dazed, and a deep kiss mark on his neck. He looked as if he hadn't slept all night. Empathizing, Song Jincheng hurriedly said, "Brother Qingshi, keep your chin up. Every cloud has a silver lining."

Song Qingshi turned, forcing a bitter smile, "It's not that bad, just a little difficult..."

Seeing him put on a brave face, Song Jincheng felt his eyes well up: "You've suffered."

Song Qingshi comforted, "It's fine, I can gradually adapt."

"Don't adapt," Song Jincheng grabbed his hand urgently, "I've already packed our bags and readied the spirit horses. Let's escape before that thing returns!"

Song Qingshi was bewildered. Last night, after sharing their thoughts, Feng Jun had given him various latest research in pharmacology and interesting spell formation diagrams. They had spent the entire night happily engrossed in study. Pharmacology was easy for him, but the spell formations seemed increasingly challenging. He felt outdated, struggling to catch up and realized he needed time to adapt and relearn.

Song Jincheng urged, "Hurry, or we'll be too late."

Sensing Song Jincheng's urgency, Song Qingshi also felt alarmed, "Alright, I'll go get Feng Jun and Xiaobai."

Song Jincheng nearly fainted, wanting to explain.

Suddenly, the window swung open.

Feng Jun cast a terrifying gaze upon him.

Mistakenly Saving the Villain

Chapter 88

by

Song Jincheng wanted to scream for help, but Feng Jun cast a spell, silencing his vocal cords.

He realized Feng Jun hadn't laid a hand on Song Qingshi yet, and made frantic gestures, trying to convey the grim reality of the monster's cannibalistic tendencies before his death.

After pondering for a while, Song Qingshi understood, "You're hungry? You want me to dine with you?"

Song Jincheng was so angry that he felt tears coming to his eyes. He wanted to throttle this fool.

"Qingshi, you didn't rest well last night. Sleep a little longer," Feng Jun walked in leisurely, wearing thin silk gloves and smiling. "Coincidentally, Xiao Bai is also hungry. I'll take them outside to find something to eat."

The White Dragon next to him heard this and immediately darted over to grab Song Jincheng's arm, sticking its tongue out and whining, "I'm hungry."

What does a giant serpent eat when it's hungry?

Song Jincheng looked at those innocently golden vertical pupils and forked tongue, feeling dizzy. Unable to resist the terrifying strength gripping his arm, he was forcibly dragged out the door amidst Song Qingshi's wishes of "eat well, be full," and thrown into the woodshed. Then, he watched Feng Jun cast a barrier, isolating him from the world.

He remembered the teachings of the Medicine King Valley and decided to meet his end with heroism.

Feng Jun lit a strange kind of incense.

Upon smelling the odd aroma, Song Jincheng's eyes went dark, and he passed out. When he awoke, he found himself confined to a dungeon, filled only with piles of books and scrolls. Mr. Yue appeared before him, stating that he had committed too many mistakes and was sent back to the Medicine King Valley for reflection. He would be released only upon completing all the medical texts.

He spent a full decade memorizing texts and completing scrolls, losing all his hair in the process, yet still couldn't finish...

Song Jincheng grabbed his head, collapsing into sobs that shattered the dream.

When he woke up, Feng Jun was standing in front of him, the colossal serpent coiling beside him, filling up the entire woodshed. Its lantern-like eyes fixated on him, a gaping mouth revealing two sharp fangs, its long tongue almost sweeping across Song Jincheng's face.

Song Jincheng first touched his head to make sure his hair was still there.

Feng Jun picked up a second stick of dream-weaving incense, ready to light it...

Without hesitation, Song Jincheng fell to his knees, "I was wrong! You can have me do anything as long as it doesn't involve studying!"

Even if it meant being devoured by the giant serpent, he couldn't bear the thought of returning to that dungeon to study.

Having toyed with dream-weaving incense for so long, Feng Jun had never seen such a useless fellow. The original three-year nightmare stretched to ten years, and he still forcibly woke up. Intrigued, Feng Jun considered whether he should try a ten-year or even a hundred-year nightmare on this rare subject.

Finding the woodshed too cramped, the giant serpent transformed back into a human shape, obediently squatting beside Feng Jun.

Song Jincheng suddenly recalled a book he had secretly read behind his parents' backs: the immortal lord of the Summit of Immortality had a serpent familiar... It had cultivated for thousands of years, was enormous in size, violent in temperament, and had an impressive list of battle accomplishments. It could transform into a child to deceive enemies. The description closely matched the creature before him.

The terrifying serpent was utterly submissive and obedient to Feng Jun.

Then what could Feng Jun's true identity be?

Rumor had it that the Divine Lord of the Indomitable Peak had thousands of incarnations in the world.

An uncontrollable thought gripped Song Jincheng, weakening his knees. Sects that had offended the Indomitable Peak were annihilated over the millennia. A single foolish word or deed could lead to the downfall of his own Yao Wang Valley. Thinking of his family, masters, and friends, he was so frightened that he was rendered tearless. Why had he cared about Song Qingshi attracting the attention of a male demon?

After all, it was just a temporary plight!

Men could endure it; close your eyes and it will be over. What was there to fear?

He promptly advised Song Qingshi to accept his fate.

Song Jincheng ingratiatingly said, "I noticed that Qingshi seems to have taken a liking to you, Lord Feng. You must be the one he cherishes in his heart."

Lord Feng slightly raised his eyebrows.

"When I found Qingshi, he had lost some of his memories but he remembered having someone he dearly loved. He even wrote about her in his notebook, holding it as a treasured item. He's eager to find her," Song Jincheng spilled all the details from the notebook, strongly hinting that Lord Feng should impersonate this mystery woman, making Song Qingshi's end more blissful. "This person likes red and white, enjoys sword training, potion-making, and reading. She collects beautiful rocks and gems, and her birthday seems to be sometime in February…"

Lord Feng paused: "February 14th?"

Song Jincheng: "Exactly!"

Lord Feng remained silent for a long while, signaling Haolong to educate this fool and teach him to be more understanding and obedient. Then, he lifted the barrier and left the woodshed.

　...

Having stayed up for most of the night, Song Qingshi was drowsy when he felt something warm and fragrant crawl into his blanket. Instinctively, he embraced it, burrowing into its warmth, holding it tightly as if afraid it would slip away.

It turns out that the one he was searching for was not the mission's target, but himself...

Lord Feng stared intently at the person cradled in his arms.

Each time he accessed Zhao Ye's memories, it was a painful experience. In those so-called "rescue the tragic protagonist" missions, Zhao Ye always went to great lengths to be loyal, gentle, powerful, and attentive to the protagonists, uttering sweet words and making great sacrifices, even to the point of getting injured or near-death for them. Each protagonist would fall head over heels in love with Zhao Ye, pledging both body and soul. However, once he switched worlds, Zhao Ye would wipe his emotional slate clean and repeat the same redemption story with a new protagonist.

Was this salvation, or mere manipulation?

He felt an uncontrollable surge of anger and fear.

Stealthily, Lord Feng placed his hand on Song Qingshi's chest, feeling the heartbeat within. At his angriest, he had thought more than once about ripping out Song Qingshi's heart if he ever behaved towards a new target the way he had towards him. He considered turning his body into a puppet and hiding away his soul so that he would never have to hear him whisper sweet nothings to anyone else or witness his tenderness directed towards another.

Such thoughts were deeply pathological, capable of harming the one he loved...

He struggled to maintain control. There were lines that even death should not allow him to cross.

Fortunately, Song Qing Shi has never let him down.

Lingering resentment and entangled grievances dissipated like morning fog cleared by a gentle breeze, revealing a clear sky.

Feng Jun couldn't help but laugh. Vines called "Blood Kings" stretched out from all directions, wrapping Song Qing Shi in an embrace and landing him a kiss. As Song Qing Shi opened his eyes and saw Feng Jun's radiant smile, he felt utterly enchanted. He finally understood the meaning behind historical phrases like "strategies distract the warlords" and literary ones like "from then on, the king no longer attends morning court."

Although these red vines were peculiar and bound his limbs tightly, making him immobile, some even snaked into his clothes and coiled around his waist, making him feel ticklish.

As long as Feng Jun is happy, that's all that matters!

Feng Jun nibbled on his earlobe and asked, "May I take a look at your bag of mustard seeds?"

Song Qing Shi obediently handed over the bag: "It's all yours."

Finances should be handed over to the one you love; pocket money is enough for him.

Feng Jun rummaged through his bag of mustard seeds for a while, finally pulling out a notebook buried beneath the spirit stones. After flipping through a few pages, he smiled and asked, "Jin Cheng said that this notebook mentions who you like. Tell me, who is it?"

Song Qing Shi startled awake, wanting to retrieve the notebook but found himself unable to move.

He's faced with a life-or-death question! Answer incorrectly, and he risks anything from a beating to a breakup!

Song Qing Shi decisively said, "It's you!"

Feng Jun waved the notebook and continued asking, "Since you know it's me, do you know if I'm male or female?"

Song Qing Shi smartly replied, "Male."

Feng Jun tilted up his chin, feigning anger, "How did you know?"

"By observing the pelvic bone," Song Qing Shi quickly explained. "I've dissected many cadavers and studied the skeletal structures of men and women. Men have narrow, tall pelvic bones, while women have wider, shorter ones. This affects the way they walk. Men's pelvic bones move less, while women's move more."

Initially, he was distracted by Feng Jun's beauty and then distracted by a giant snake, so he didn't think much of it. Once he got to the inn and felt that something was off, he figured it out. After all, crossdressing is not uncommon in modern society.

Feng Jun was taken aback for a moment. A medical student's perspective was quite novel, touching upon points he had never considered. After a while, he asked, "Why didn't you expose me?"

Song Qing Shi felt aggrieved, "That's your hobby, exposing it wouldn't be right."

Even though it may seem odd, everyone has their own interests and hobbies. Just as he enjoys studying corpses and organs, which might seem strange to others, there's no reason to expose Feng Jun if he enjoys crossdressing—especially when he looks so beautiful doing it.

Song Qing Shi patted his chest to reassure: "I'm totally fine with you crossdressing! You look beautiful! I love it! Feel free to wear whatever you like!"

Feng Jun looked at him, feeling a pang in his heart.

Song Qing Shi continued to praise: "Although I was surprised to find out I'm attracted to a man, Feng Jun's physique is petite, so I find it less intimidating and easier to adapt to."

Feng Jun felt even more distressed: "So, you don't like taller guys?"

Although his original body was quite perfect, it was taller and more robust than Yue Wu Huan from back in the day...

Song Qing Shi, always self-conscious about his slender build, sought to reassure his partner: "Don't worry, I'm not into tall and muscular men. I prefer your gentle and adorable physique."

Feng Jun pondered for a while, then cautiously asked: "Are you afraid you won't be able to handle someone taller?"

Song Qing Shi affirmed: "Yes, I couldn't handle it."

His youthful face made him look like a child next to a tall, mature man, which would hurt his pride.

Feng Jun's heart felt increasingly heavy. For now, he decided to maintain his youthful appearance until further adjustments could be made. Confident in his attractiveness, he was fine in either male or female attire, so long as Song Qing Shi approved.

Song Qing Shi committed to the journey to Tian Wu Gate; there was no backing out until everything was accomplished.

"I'm already before you, so there's no need to keep that notebook," Feng Jun considered, taking away the notebook filled with references to Yue Wu Huan. He initially wanted to tear it up, but seeing Song Qing Shi's reluctant expression, he tucked it into his own bag of mustard seeds. He then handed Song Qing Shi a blank new notebook, smiling, "Since we're no longer bound by the past, why not start anew?"

Although touched by the sentiment, he wanted to thoroughly deal with any memories related to Yue Wu Huan before he could feel at ease...

Song Qing Shi thought about it and agreed.

He earnestly wrote in the notebook: Likes Crossdressing.

Feng Jun: "…"