Xue Tuzi awoke to a sharp, stinging pain burrowing into his chest. His breath hitched, a soft groan escaping his lips as his eyes fluttered open. There, nestled against his skin, was Jiao Jiao, his tiny, glistening body wriggling with satisfaction as he fed. The Gu worm's bulbous black eyes shimmered, a single teardrop trembling at the corner as his small, jagged teeth sank deeper into Xue Tuzi's flesh.
Jiao Jiao had stirred hours ago, his belly twisting with hunger, but no matter how insistently he nudged, clawed, or prodded, Xue Tuzi had remained motionless, lost in peaceful slumber. Frustration built until, in a fit of desperation, Jiao Jiao shrieked into his ear, yanked at his hair with all his might—but not even that earned him a groggy protest. He huffed, defeated. His stomach let out an angry growl, reverberating through his small frame, and at last, he resorted to the one source of sustenance that never failed him—Xue Tuzi's energy. Dark and abundant, it seeped through his skin like a rich nectar, filling the little Gu worm's belly when there was no real food to eat.
Xue Tuzi's fingers drifted to his chest, absently patting Jiao Jiao's round head. The Gu worm let out a muffled sniffle, his mouth still latched onto the skin, suckling harshly. Xue Tuzi sighed. "Xiao Jiao, gentle," he murmured, cradling the stubborn creature. His voice was warm, coaxing, but when he tilted his head down, a silent command laced his gaze. It was time to stop.
Jiao Jiao puffed his cheeks in defiance. He refused to stop. In protest, he bit down sharply, his tiny fangs piercing deeper in a bold act of rebellion.
Xue Tuzi inhaled sharply, his muscles tensing as a sharp pang lanced through him. A bead of blood welled at the wound. "Xiao Jiao!" His voice turned sharp, his brows drawing together as he glared down at the insolent little creature. But Jiao Jiao, unbothered, continued to feed, his tiny body trembling with obstinate determination.
"That's enough." Xue Tuzi pried the Gu worm away from his chest, his grip firm but not unkind, and placed him on the bed. Jiao Jiao squirmed in protest, his stubby limbs flailing before he resigned himself to sulking, his tiny nubs crossed, soft cries escaping in pitiful whimpers.
He rose to his feet, running a comb through his tousled hair. He smoothed down the unruly strands, tying a few with a ribbon that sat neatly fastened at the crown of his head. Reaching for a small vial of fragrance, he poured the oil into his palms, rubbing it into his skin, letting the rich, herbal scent cleanse the remnants of sleep from his body. With one swift motion, he scooped up the sulking Jiao Jiao, tucking him against his qiankun pouch before striding out of the bedroom.
The courtyard was already bathed in golden light. Xue Laohu stood waiting, his posture crisp, a single hand clasped behind his back while the other flicked a folding fan open and shut with a rhythmic snap. His sharp eyes flickered over Xue Tuzi as he approached.
"I thought if I waited any longer, I'd turn to stone," Xue Laohu muttered, irritation lining his voice.
Xue Tuzi bowed low, his tone steady despite the lingering ache in his chest. "This disciple has been defiant. He begs Shizun for punishment."
Xue Laohu exhaled through his nose, snapping his fan shut before turning to address his disciples. His gaze swept over them, lingering briefly on Li Zhameng before settling back on Xue Tuzi. "Sect Leader Mao has given us an assignment. We are to travel west to Mimi Valley and meet with the Grandmaster of that region. She has been guarding the Celestial Compass, but now, it is our duty to retrieve it and seal it at the heart of Mount Dingbu."
Both Xue Tuzi and Li Zhameng bowed in unison, their movements fluid and precise. Overhead, the branches rustled as Shudu, perched lazily on a high limb, let out a long sigh before spitting out the stalk of straw he had been chewing. He landed effortlessly beside them, stretching his arms with a yawn as if he had just woken from a deep slumber.
Xue Laohu, ever composed, turned sharply on his heel, his robes billowing slightly with the motion. Without hesitation, he strode forward, his steps brisk and purposeful—until a voice interrupted him.
"Shizun… that's east. West is over there."
Xue Tuzi's words came hesitantly, but there was no taking them back. A deep flush crept up Xue Laohu's neck, the heat of embarrassment searing through him. Dammit. I can't tell east from west. Ugh, why didn't I use GPS? His thoughts spiraled into frustrated self-reproach.
Hey, yo, system. He pressed two fingers to his temple as if invoking divine intervention, all while his feet instinctively carried him down the mountain—still heading east.
The system sputtered to life, its usual chronic cough hacking into his mind before finally clearing its throat.
WELCOME, USER, TO—
None of that. GPS, now.
Xue Loahu, ever impatient, materialized within the interface of his mind, swiping away the overly dramatic title screen of the novel with a flick of his fingers. Without pause, he tapped on the GPS function, quickly inputting their destination: Mimi Village.
The system chimed in smoothly, its voice neutral and vaguely smug.
50 LI ARRIVAL EXPECTED BEFORE SUNDOWN. YOU ARE ON THE FASTEST ROUTE DESPITE USUAL TRAFFIC.
Traffic? Xue Loahu scoffed internally. What traffic? But before he could finish the thought, a deafening roar shattered the quiet, and a horde of demons burst from the shadows, their grotesque forms writhing with hunger and malice.
Xue Loahu clenched his jaw. That's right… He muttered under his breath, recalling the reports—the barrier on the western slope of Mount Dingbu was weakening. With each passing day, more demons found their way through, drawn by the scent of human energy like moths to flame.
Most of them gravitated toward Xue Tuzi, their beady eyes glistening with a sickening hunger, saliva dripping from their gaping maws. Lust, greed, hunger—all their desires fused into one singular craving as they lunged. But before they could reach him, his ribbon lashed out like a living serpent, striking them down with ruthless precision. Limbs severed, bodies sliced clean in half—his merciless technique left nothing but twitching carcasses in its wake.
Shudu, standing untouched amidst the carnage, remained utterly unbothered. No demon dared to approach him. Instead, those brave—or foolish—enough to speak glared at him in outrage.
"Has Lord Shudu lost his way?" a wasp-like demon hissed, its wings vibrating with barely contained fury. "Why do you consort with demon hunters?"
Shudu threw his head back and let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Lost my way?" He smirked, his tone dripping with condescension. "Please, don't flatter yourselves. You lot are beneath me."
The wasp demon's fury ignited into reckless rage, and it lunged, its stinger poised to strike—only to be unceremoniously sliced in half mid-air.
Shudu arched a brow, his lips curving into a soft, amused smile. He let out a low whistle. "Many thanks."
Xue Tuzi, who had been the one to strike, rolled his eyes, flipping his hair back with a haughty flick of his wrist. "Hmph. Don't get ahead of yourself." His voice carried a lazy drawl. "I just hate bugs."
More demons surged toward him, their movements frenzied, their grotesque hands clawing through the air. Xue Tuzi fought relentlessly, his strikes as fluid as they were brutal.
A sudden burst of blue fire engulfed the demons atop him, reducing them to charred husks within seconds. The air crackled with residual energy, the lingering flames licking at the ground before fading into nothing.
Li Zhameng lowered his hand, the fox fire pendant hanging from his neck still glowing with residual energy.
Xue Tuzi staggered to his feet, dusting off his robes. His breath came in short gasps as he turned to his savior. "Thank you, Meng Meng. I owe you one."
They pressed westward, weaving through the dense undergrowth as Li Zhameng took the lead, his every step fluid and assured. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a swirl of blue flames from the pendant around his neck, the mystical fox fire licking hungrily at the air.
"Fox fire." He murmured the command effortlessly, unleashing a blaze that swallowed the demons in their path. Their shrieks rang through the forest as their twisted forms disintegrated into smoldering ash, leaving only the scent of burnt flesh lingering in the wind.
Trailing behind, Xue Laohu's lips thinned into a tight line. Each time that accursed blue flame illuminated the path, his irritation bubbled hotter, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. His grip tightened around his ivory fan, and he finally snapped.
"Meng Meng." His voice was deceptively calm as he flicked his fan open, sending a gust of force strong enough to hurl a few lesser demons into the trees. "I haven't seen you use your spiritual weapon."
Li Zhameng barely glanced back, his focus still on incinerating the next wave of demons. "Oh, fox fire is just easier and faster to use." He reasoned, summoning another brilliant blaze that flared in its full glory, painting the treetops in an eerie blue glow.
Xue Laohu's nose twitched. If that sly old fox were here, he'd be rejoicing. The thought sent his mood into a nosedive, his cheeks puffing slightly as jealousy gnawed at him. That damn Yin Huli…
His patience snapped like a brittle twig.
"You prefer Yin Huli's fox fire over the spiritual weapon your Shizun so carefully crafted for you?" He accused, voice sharp with barely restrained frustration. To punctuate his anger, he slammed his foot into the back of an already defeated demon, grinding it into the dirt out of sheer pettiness.
Li Zhameng stiffened. "Eh… no, that's not—"
"Fine! Use his stupid fox fire! I don't care!" Xue Laohu cut him off, his tone the embodiment of wounded pride. Without another word, he stormed ahead, his robe billowing behind him as he muttered furiously under his breath.
How is fox fire better than a gun?
An actual gun! And I spent weeks—weeks!—designing that thing, only for it to get discarded like last season's fashion!
His fists clenched as he glared at the ground, his pace quickening. Ugh! See if I care.
Behind him, Li Zhameng let out a quiet sigh.
"Shizun…" He called gently, jogging to catch up.
"I'm a little bit hurt right now. Don't talk to me." Xue Laohu barked, cheeks still puffed in irritation. At that moment, he looked less like a revered grandmaster and more like an insecure boyfriend sulking after a lovers' quarrel.
Li Zhameng's fingers curled around his Shizun's wrist, drawing him closer until the heat of their bodies nearly touched. The movement was deliberate—slow enough to resist, firm enough to feel intentional.
"Shizun need not worry," he murmured, his breath skating along Xue Laohu's ear. "This disciple's reverence has never wavered."
The words, velvet-soft sent a visible tremor through Xue Laohu. His knees buckled, the sudden weakness betraying him—only for Li Zhameng's arm to snap around his waist, holding him upright with effortless strength.
For a heartbeat, they lingered there, Li Zhameng's gaze darkening as it traced Xue Laohu's flustered expression. Then—
"Disregard—!" Xue Laohu stammered, shoving against Li Zhameng's chest. He stumbled back, throat bobbing as he straightened his robes with jerky motions, rearranging his composure quickly. With another sigh, Li Zhameng let him go walking just a few paces behind him.
A piercing scream shattered the forest's uneasy quiet.
A woman burst through the trees, her robes torn, her face twisted in terror as she fled blindly. Behind her, a massive demonic beast gave chase, its elongated tongue slithering across the forest floor like a grotesque serpent. The moment it caught her ankle, it jerked her off her feet with sickening force, dragging her toward its gaping maw.
She shrieked, thrashing desperately, her kicks landing uselessly against its leathery skin.
Before the beast could clamp its jaws shut, a sharp blur of motion cut through the air.
Shudu.
With a single effortless stroke, his nails sliced through the demon's tongue, severing it in half.
The creature howled in agony, its body convulsing as it recoiled. In one swift movement, Shudu caught the woman, scooping her into his arms as she let out another strangled scream.
She clung to his shirt, trembling violently, her nails digging into the fabric. Her eyes remained squeezed shut, too paralyzed with fear to look.
Shudu barely spared her a glance as he turned, fending off several more demons who dared to lunge at him. His hands moved like water, each strike precise, almost lazy, as though these creatures were hardly worth the effort.
Then, in a voice surprisingly soft, he murmured, "Hey, are you alright?"
The woman hesitated. Slowly, she cracked one eye open—then the other.
The moment she saw his face, her fear melted into astonishment. Then, pure joy.
"Lord Shudu!" She gasped, her voice breaking as she threw her arms around his neck.
From a distance, Xue Laohu watched.
His sharp phoenix eyes narrowed slightly, brows knitting together. He said nothing, but his grip tightened around his ivory fan.
Who is she?
The familiarity, the ease with which she clung to Shudu—just who was this woman to him?