Jiao Jiao had been drawn to the strange mushroom as if compelled by some unseen force. It stood apart from the others, nestled among the tangled roots and whispering grasses of the moonlit glade, its cap a deep, velvety violet speckled with shifting black spots that seemed to swirl like ink when glimpsed from the corner of the eye. A faint, pulsing aura radiated from its surface, casting an eerie indigo glow onto the damp earth and the curling vines that surrounded it. The air hummed with an invisible energy, charged with something ancient, something waiting. The scent of damp moss lingered in the breeze, and for a fleeting moment, Jiao Jiao felt as though the entire forest had gone still, watching, waiting—reverent before this otherworldly relic.
Unlike the other fungi in the glade, this one pulsed, its surface shimmering like liquid light. Something in its presence made his tiny Gu worm body tremble—not with fear, but with anticipation. His instincts, honed by something far older than thought, told him to eat it. He crawled closer, drawn by the irresistible scent. With an eager chirp, Jiao Jiao opened his little mouth, sharp needle-like teeth sinking into the thick flesh of the mushroom. A burst of flavor flooded his senses, rich and earthy, laced with something electric.
The moment he swallowed, a warm glow enveloped him. It pulsed, deepening in color, shifting through shades of violet and crimson as his small worm-like form began to convulse. Something was happening—something beyond his comprehension. His body stretched, his many tiny limbs retracting, his slick carapace softening, reshaping. The glow grew, swallowing him whole. The forest air crackled as the demonic energy within him merged with the ancient magic of the mushroom. The process was unsettling, his very being unraveling and reforming, limbs sprouting where none had been, flesh weaving itself into something new.
And then, silence.
On the damp grass lay the body of a small child, no older than three, curled in on himself as though he had simply been placed there by gentle hands. His delicate features were as pale as moonlight, framed by ink-dark hair. His long lashes quivered against his round cheeks, his breaths soft and steady.
Xue Tuzi was frantic. His heart pounded as he searched, calling Jiao Jiao's name into the night. His mind raced with horrible possibilities—had the little Gu worm fallen into danger? Had something devoured him? "Xiao Jiao!" he shouted again, weaving through the underbrush, his breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps.
Then he saw him.
At first, his mind refused to accept what his eyes beheld—a child, curled in fetal position on the forest floor, completely bare, his small frame trembling against the cold breeze. Xue Tuzi skidded to a stop, his throat tightening. Where was Jiao Jiao? What was this child doing here, alone?
Then, the boy stirred.
Heavy lashes fluttered open, revealing eyes of a deep, unnatural crimson. He locked onto Xue Tuzi at once, filled with recognition, and then—
"Mama!"
The word was high and sweet, innocent. Xue Tuzi barely had time to react before the child lifted his tiny arms toward him, seeking warmth, seeking him.
His breath hitched. "…Xiao Jiao?"
He hesitated, hands hovering, but the moment stretched too long, and instinct took over. He scooped the child into his arms, pressing the small body close against his chest. The warmth of the boy's skin seeped through his robes, real and solid. His heart hammered as he pulled back just enough to look at the child's face.
Round. Soft. Familiar.
The boy blinked up at him, unguarded, trusting. And Xue Tuzi nearly choked.
Shudu.
The resemblance was undeniable. The jet-black hair with wispy bangs that framed his round face, the striking red eyes. But unlike Shudu's sun-kissed skin, this child was pale—unnervingly so. The realization sent a tremor down Xue Tuzi's spine.
He pulled his outer robe from his shoulders, hastily wrapping Jiao Jiao in the thick fabric to shield him from the cold. His mind swirled with questions, but his voice barely worked.
"How… how did this happen?" he murmured, staring down at the child in his arms.
"A-Tuzi! Did you find him?"
Xue Laohu's voice cut through the night, followed by the rustling of approaching footsteps. Xue Tuzi turned, Jiao Jiao nestled securely against his chest, his arms instinctively tightening around the boy.
He jogged toward Xue Laohu and Li Zhameng, who stood nearby, a torch of foxfire igniting the darkness with flickering blue light. Xue Laohu's sharp eyes locked onto the child in Xue Tuzi's grasp, his mouth opening to speak—
Then the sound of loud, grating trumpets shattered the night, echoing through the trees like an unholy noise.
CONGRATULATIONS USER!
GU WORM HAS EVOLVED!
+300 LIFE POINTS
The system's chime rang out cheerfully in his mind, accompanied by a burst of floating emojis: a worm morphing into a small child, followed by a triumphant thumbs-up. The notification flickered in the corner of his vision, bright and obnoxious. He scowled, swiping it away with a flick of his fingers.
Annoying.
Xue Laohu exhaled sharply and turned his attention back to the child in Xue Tuzi's arms—the spitting image of Shudu, but smaller, softer. Jiao Jiao clung to Xue Tuzi's robes, his tiny fingers curled tightly into the fabric, his crimson eyes wide with quiet curiosity and unease.
"Shizun, you won't believe—" Xue Tuzi started, only to be cut off as Li Zhameng stepped closer, eyes narrowing.
"Who's that?" Li Zhameng asked, leaning in, gaze sharp as he scrutinized the little boy. Jiao Jiao shrank back instantly, letting out a tiny squeak before ducking beneath Xue Tuzi's robes, hiding in the folds like a frightened kitten.
Xue Tuzi chuckled, his lips curling into a soft smile. "It's Xiao Jiao."
Li Zhameng arched a skeptical brow. "Are you sure?"
Before he could examine the child any further, a familiar voice interrupted.
"There's no denying it," Shudu said lazily, his tone as casual as if they were discussing the weather. He stood nearby, casually snacking on a cluster of mushrooms, his sharp teeth sinking into the thick, fleshy caps with an audible crunch. He chewed thoughtfully, his crimson gaze flicking to Jiao Jiao, who immediately shuddered and buried himself deeper into Xue Tuzi's robes.
"These mushrooms only ripen once every millennia," Shudu mused, plucking another from the ground and inspecting it between his fingers. "He's lucky to have eaten one." Without missing a beat, he popped the mushroom into his mouth, chewing loudly.
Xiao Zongzi, perched on his shoulder, wrinkled her nose in disgust as he nonchalantly waved another mushroom in her face. She twisted her little body away, clicking her tongue in disapproval.
Xue Laohu, crouched nearby, stared at the plump little mushrooms with newfound fascination. He reached out and poked one experimentally with his index finger. "Ehhh… so these are like the mushrooms," he muttered under his breath.
"This venerable one does not advise Grandmaster Xue to consume these mushrooms. They are poisonous to humans."
Xue Laohu immediately pulled his hand back, wiping his fingers off on his robes with an exaggerated grimace. "Noted. Pluck a few for the Great Sage we'll have someone deliver them to him tomorrow."
They continued their trek up the mountain. Xue Tuzi trudged along the narrow path, his arms aching as he cradled Jiao Jiao against his chest. The child was no longer a tiny Gu worm—he had weight now, warm and solid. Though small, he was no feather-light creature, and Xue Tuzi could feel the burn in his muscles with every step.
Jiao Jiao, however, seemed completely unbothered by the journey. His bare feet dangled carelessly in the air, toes wiggling idly in the cool mountain breeze. Occasionally, he would shift, curling closer into Xue Tuzi's warmth, his tiny hands gripping the fabric of his robes with sleepy contentment.
Xue Tuzi exhaled, adjusting his hold on the boy, hoisting him higher to ease the strain in his arms. His breath came in steady, measured puffs, but the exertion was beginning to weigh on him.
Shudu, walking beside them, shot an irritated glance at Jiao Jiao. His voice cut through the quiet, sharp and impatient. "He's old enough to walk. Let him walk."
Jiao Jiao, either oblivious or simply uncaring, continued to dangle his feet, wiggling his tiny toes in the cool mountain air. Xue Tuzi let out a weary sigh, shifting the child higher against his chest. His arms ached, but he tightened his grip, pressing onward without complaint.
Shudu scoffed, his patience snapping like a taut thread. In one swift motion, he stomped toward Xue Tuzi, reaching out to snatch Jiao Jiao by the arm and yank him down. "Walk!" he barked.
The sudden force sent Jiao Jiao into a fit of loud, startled cries. Xue Tuzi nearly stumbled, struggling to maintain his balance as he instinctively pulled the child closer. His reaction was immediate—fierce and protective. With a sharp smack, he struck Shudu's hand away, his eyes burning with unrestrained fury.
"Don't you ever lay a finger on him!" Xue Tuzi spat, his voice trembling with rage. His face was flushed, his body tense as he shielded the sobbing child.
"Mama!" Jiao Jiao wailed, his small hands clutching desperately at Xue Tuzi's robes, his little body trembling with fear.
Xue Tuzi shushed him gently, bouncing him in his arms, his fingers stroking through the boy's inky hair in soothing motions. He pressed a soft kiss to Jiao Jiao's forehead, murmuring reassurances while his glare remained locked onto Shudu.
Shudu folded his arms, unimpressed. "He's a demon child now. Stop coddling him and make him walk." His brows furrowed as he watched Xue Tuzi continue to comfort the child, his tenderness unwavering. "You can't even carry him anymore. You're tired."
Xue Tuzi ignored him, holding Jiao Jiao even tighter. "Xiao Jiao is not going to be walking barefoot on this terrain," he snapped, his voice laced with finality.
"Tch." Shudu clicked his tongue in exasperation. "He's a demon. He doesn't need shoes to walk."
Xue Tuzi's gaze flicked downward, narrowing at Shudu's feet. "You say that, yet you're wearing boots."
For once, Shudu had no retort. His lips parted, then shut just as quickly.
Xue Tuzi turned back to Jiao Jiao, who hiccupped softly, his small hands wiping at his tear-streaked cheeks. Gently, Xue Tuzi brushed away the lingering tears, his fingers warm against the child's cool skin.
Then, his eyes drifted down to Jiao Jiao's feet—small, bare, and curling slightly against the wind's cold touch.
A memory surfaced, unbidden and vivid.
"Xiao Tuzi…"
A soft voice called his name. He was small, barely more than a child himself, peeking shyly from behind a door frame. A young man sat at a low table, placing his ink-stained brush down with careful precision. He blew gently over the drying ink on the scroll before tilting his head, his phoenix eyes meeting Xue Tuzi's with warmth.
"Xiao Tuzi, where are your shoes?"
Xue Tuzi glanced down, fumbling his dirty toes against the floorboards in shame. "They stole them, Gege," he admitted, his lips quivering into a pout, the small mole at the corner of his mouth dipping downward.
The young man sighed, standing and making his way over. He crouched to Xue Tuzi's level, placing a gentle hand atop his unkempt hair.
"I'll get you a new pair… but first, we must clean those feet."
Without hesitation, he lifted Xue Tuzi into his arms. His small, grimy feet dangled carelessly, rubbing against the pristine fabric of the man's robes. But the young man didn't flinch.
As they walked down the corridor, whispers followed them like shadows.
"Is he not disgusted, carrying that filthy mongrel?"
"I heard the orphans have lice. How can he touch that little pest?"
Xue Tuzi shrank in his arms, curling in on himself. He stared at his own hands—small, dirty, unworthy—and felt the burn of unshed tears prick his eyes.
But before they could spill, a warmth pressed against his forehead.
The young man had kissed him.
"Do not listen to them," he murmured softly.
After that, Xue Tuzi had never taken his shoes off. He slept in them. He cherished them. He cherished his Gege—wanted to be the center of his world.
But that memory bled into another. Bloodied limbs. Half-eaten children.
His breath hitched.
The illusion shattered, and he was back in the present, gripping Jiao Jiao tighter in his arms. His cold gaze met Shudu's with unwavering resolve.
"He will never walk barefoot."