Back in Xue Tuzi's room, the air was thick with frustration. He slammed his fist against the bed, the sharp impact startling Jiao Jiao, who had been nestled peacefully in his arms. The child let out a soft whimper, his little hands clenching at Xue Tuzi's chest. Immediately, Xue Tuzi's anger faltered, and he began rocking the child gently, his fingers running through the boy's silky black hair as he tried to soothe him. His face remained tense, his brows drawn low in a deep frown.
Shudu was gone.
Xue Laohu's words echoed in his mind, but he refused to accept them. He ground his teeth together, his heart pounding with fury and something he refused to name.
Meanwhile, outside the room, Xue Laohu strode down the corridor, his thoughts spiraling. Shit. Shit. Shit. What do I do now? He pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. There was no easy fix for this. Xue Tuzi's hatred ran deep, and no amount of reasoning would undo what had already been done.
Just then, a soft, familiar voice called out to him from the courtyard.
"Shizun,"
Xue Laohu stiffened immediately, every muscle in his body locking in place. From a distance, Li Zhameng strolled taking slow measured steps, his lips curled mischievously a brow arching.
Ugh. Not right now, Xue Laohu groaned internally.
Lately, being anywhere near Li Zhameng had become… a problem. A big problem. Every time the young man so much as brushed against him, his body reacted in ways that left him burning, flustered, and irrationally desperate.
He had tried everything to suppress the urges.
He tried tying Mini Ming down. Didn't work.
He tried dipping Mini Ming into a bucket of icy water. Didn't work.
He tried deep, meditative breathing, focusing on clearing his mind—only for Li Zhameng to suddenly lean in and murmur, Shizun… and Mini Ming would immediately jolt awake, harder than ever, ready to accomplish his long-awaited mission.
Mini Ming was obsessed. The sound of Li Zhameng's voice, the scent of his hair, the way his robes shifted over his slender frame—it was all too much. Xue Laohu was the bee to Li Zhameng's flower, the arrow to his target, the sword to his sheath.
And right now, that sword was dangerously unsheathed.
He needed to escape.
"Meng Meng, not now!" Xue Laohu barked hastily, spinning on his heel to put as much distance between them as possible.
Li Zhameng cocked an eyebrow ever since the incident at the lake, his Shizun had been acting strangely—avoiding him, brushing him off, refusing to meet his gaze for more than a few seconds. His brows furrowed in determination.
Enough was enough.
With a swift step forward, Li Zhameng caught up to Xue Laohu, grasping his wrist before he could escape.
"Why is Shizun avoiding me?" he asked, his voice firm and commanding. His emerald eyes, flecked with gold, burned fiercely under the sunlight, locking onto Xue Laohu's with unwavering intensity.
Xue Laohu swallowed thickly.
Ah! Too close! His mind screamed as a fiery heat bloomed in his groin, crawling up his spine, setting his entire body ablaze. His throat went dry. His hands trembled. The scent of Li Zhameng's skin—warm, sweet, intoxicating—filled his lungs, making his head spin.
Then, the worst possible thing happened.
Li Zhameng shifted closer, pressing slightly against him, and—
JOLT.
Something hard prodded Li Zhameng's thigh.
He froze.
Xue Laohu's entire soul left his body.
Mini Ming was fully aroused. Worse, he had dreams. Fantasies of pinning Li Zhameng down, tying him up, throwing him into a dark, secluded place, and ravishing him thoroughly until he was gasping and begging—
Xue Laohu's face burned so hot, he was sure steam was about to burst from his ears. His breath came out in strangled gasps, his mind spinning wildly as he fought for control.
But it was too late.
A mortifying wet sensation spread across his pants, staining the fabric in a humiliating display of Mini Ming's excitement.
"Shizun…" Li Zhameng murmured his gaze dropping to the unmistakable evidence of Xue Laohu's predicament.
Xue Laohu wanted to die.
"I—I—" He choked on his own words, his voice cracking in horror,. "I wanted to use the toilet and now—now—" He looked down at the large, glaring wet patch on his robes, utterly mortified.
Without another word, he turned on his heel and bolted down the corridor, fleeing into his room and slamming the door shut behind him.
Inside, he collapsed against the door, burying his face in his hands.
"Are you insane?" Xue Laohu hissed, glaring down at Mini Ming as he yanked off his soiled pants. His face was still burning with humiliation, but the little troublemaker seemed utterly unbothered.
Xue Laohu's eye twitched.
"I told you already—that is my disciple!" He seethed through clenched teeth, his anger flaring as he jabbed a finger at the offending shaft. "You absolute pervert!"
Mini Ming remained unmoved, puffing up indignantly, as if he were the one being wronged.
Xue Laohu ran a frustrated hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "Why him of all people?" His voice dropped into a whisper, almost as if he were afraid of the answer. "Why are you obsessed with him, huh?"
Mini Ming refused to answer, his silence making Xue Laohu's blood boil.
"I should just strangle you," Xue Laohu muttered darkly, wrapping his fingers around Mini Ming's head and squeezing—not enough to hurt, but just enough to make a point. The stubborn little thing immediately turned cherry red in protest, throbbing furiously.
Xue Laohu panted, his chest heaving.
"Do I…?" His voice trailed off, the question forming before he could stop it.
A vivid image of Li Zhameng flickered through his mind—those bright, mischievous emerald eyes, the teasing lilt in his voice, the way his robes clung to his frame when he moved just right—
Mini Ming nodded furiously, confirming what Xue Laohu had been too afraid to admit.
But Xue Laohu refused.
Grinding his teeth, he growled, "No. That's impossible. I don't like men."
Mini Ming jerked upright, unconvinced.
"You—" Xue Laohu jabbed a finger at the defiant little thing. "You're just a pervert! That's all this is! Some sick obsession of yours! Shame on you!"
Mini Ming twitched in annoyance.
"I am a Grandmaster!" Xue Laohu declared, voice rising as he tried to drown out the traitorous thoughts clawing at the back of his mind. "A dignified man who does not want to have sexual relations with his disciple!"
The moment the words left his mouth, a sharp knock echoed from the door.
Xue Laohu froze.
A deep, familiar voice cleared its throat.
"Grandmaster Xue."
Shit.
His heart nearly stopped. Sect Leader Mao.
Panic shot through him like lightning. He coughed violently, trying to mask the absolute nonsense he had just been yelling at his own… self. He scrambled for a fresh pair of trousers, shoving his legs into them so fast he nearly tripped. A set of robes followed, his fingers fumbling as he hastily adjusted his sleeves.
By the time Mini Ming had finally settled down, Xue Laohu took one last deep breath, straightened his posture, and schooled his expression into one of calm authority.
"Come in," he said smoothly, as if he hadn't just been shouting at his own erection moments ago.
"Ahem…" Sect Leader Mao cleared his throat, his sharp gaze scanning the room as if expecting someone else to be present. His thick fingers stroked his beard in contemplation before he finally spoke.
"Grandmaster Xue, I have just received a letter from one of our disciples…" His eyes flickered with something unreadable, his expression grave as he continued. "They reported seeing a man in possession of The Scroll of Recurring Nightmares near the village of Qingyu Cun."
At the mention of the scroll, Xue Laohu felt a pulse of unease settle in his gut. That wasn't just any cursed artifact—the Scroll of Recurring Nightmares was infamous, said to twist the minds of those who gazed upon it, trapping them in an endless cycle of their worst fears. He tensed, but Sect Leader Mao wasn't finished.
"When the man was approached, he was questioned on how he came into possession of such a thing," Sect Leader Mao continued, his tone dropping lower, weighted with something ominous. "He dispatched our disciples effortlessly. With a single hand."
A heavy silence fell between them.
Xue Laohu exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around the edge of his sleeve as the weight of the situation sank in. A man who could wipe out trained disciples so easily…
"This man is well-versed in martial arts," Sect Leader Mao said grimly, clasping his hands behind his back. His sharp, phoenix-like eyes locked onto Xue Laohu's, unwavering. "I require your assistance yet again, Grandmaster Xue."
A shrill, blazing alarm rang in Xue Laohu's ears.
The system.
It had to be a new mission. He resisted the urge to groan. First, Xue Tuzi's drama, then Mini Ming's perverted antics, and now this? He was barely keeping his head above water.
But there was no room for hesitation. This was a matter of the sect's safety, and more importantly, a chance to regain some actual life points.
With a practiced ease, Xue Laohu schooled his features into something composed and unreadable. He bowed his head slightly, adjusting the folds of his robe with precision.
"Rest assured," he said smoothly, lifting his gaze. "My disciples and I will recover the scroll and return it to Sect Mount Dingbu."
With that, Sect Leader Mao departed, his robes billowing as he strode out of the room, leaving Xue Laohu standing in silence. He exhaled sharply before turning his attention to the system, pulling out the flickering neon screen that hovered before him with its usual over-the-top flourish.
WELCOME, USER, TO
BOUND BY DARKNESS, YET DRAWN BY LOVE: THE DEMON'S ETERNAL CURSE AND THE MORTAL'S UNBREAKABLE HEART IN A WORLD THAT SHOULDN'T LET THEM BE TOGETHER BUT SOMEHOW, AGAINST ALL ODDS, THEY COPULATE.
Xue Laohu groaned so loudly it echoed off the walls. He rolled his eyes so far back he thought he might lose them in his skull.
Who wrote this title? More importantly, why?
His thoughts wandered bitterly to the day everything went wrong—the day he picked up that godforsaken book, unknowingly binding himself to this absurd system. It was as if he had been cursed from the moment he touched it. Why did his sister even enjoy reading this kind of deranged garbage?
How was this even published work?
Who approved this nonsense?
And where was the government to put a halt to these filthy, corrupting texts?!
He had so many questions and absolutely no answers.
Resigned, he clicked on the blinking notification that screamed for his attention.
NEW MISSION: THE RAINS OF QINGYU NIGHTMARES.
HEAL SHOU MC'S AND GONG ML'S WOUNDED HEARTS.
REWARD: 1000 POINTS.
BONUS: ACQUIRE THE ARTIFACT FOR AN ADDITIONAL 500 POINTS.
Xue Laohu rubbed his temples. "Hmmm…" he mused aloud, eyeing the mission details. "Is the artifact… The Scroll of Recurring Nightmares?"
THAT IS CORRECT.
Well, that was convenient. At least some things in this ridiculous system aligned with reality.
"Very well." He flicked his wrist, swiping at the glowing screen to accept the mission. The system chimed pleasantly in response, disappearing in a shimmer of light.
With a heavy sigh, he collapsed onto his bed, pressing a hand against his forehead.
One problem at a time.
He still had to figure out how to mend things between Xue Tuzi and Shudu—a nearly impossible task given Xue Tuzi's stubborn nature and deep-seated resentment.
And then… there was Mini Ming.
His eye twitched.
Yes. He needed to somehow keep Mini Ming under control around Li Zhameng before his dignity completely disintegrated.
"Ugh," he groaned, flinging an arm over his face.
Why did his life have to be like this?
Blah Blah Blah:
Mini Ming is definitely my new favorite character he's so much fun.