(Lu Shen's POV)
For the record, I was finally having a good morning.
The sun was out, birds were chirping, and for once, no one had barged into my courtyard screaming about bloodlines, awakenings, or cosmic destiny.
I was sitting under the peach tree, enjoying a rare moment of peace with a cup of tea that didn't taste like regret.
Then the System decided to ruin everything.
> Ding! New Main Mission Unlocked.
Objective: Increase the Protagonist's Affection to 100 within one month.
Failure Consequence: Immediate erasure for plot stabilization.
I choked. Tea went up my nose. I coughed so hard my vision blurred.
"WHAT?!"
> Clarification: Failure will result in Host's consciousness being deleted from current timeline. Your soul will be recycled for background NPC use.
"Recycled?!" I sputtered, slamming the cup down. "I'm not a plastic bottle! What do you mean seduce him?!"
> Correction: Objective is to increase emotional connection, not necessarily physical intimacy. However, flirting has proven to be 67% more effective in affection progression.
My brain short-circuited. "Flirting?! He's barely alive!"
> Affection does not require physical contact. Emotional bonding recommended. Blushing optional.
I dragged a hand down my face, groaning. "You're telling me my entire existence depends on making a half-dead ice prince fall in love with me."
> Affirmative.
I stared at the empty air where the voice always seemed to echo. "You're a sadist."
> Positive reinforcement increases Host motivation. You're doing great, by the way.
"Stop encouraging me!"
I stood up, pacing like a man on death row. The morning breeze couldn't even calm me down.
Affection to 100 in one month? Was the System insane? The guy barely looked at me without suspicion, and now I was supposed to seduce him?
"Okay," I muttered, trying to think. "Step one: don't panic. Step two: figure out how affection even works here. Step three: try not to die before I accidentally flirt someone into enlightenment."
> Encouraging thought detected. Host morale +3.
"Shut up."
---
Later that day, I found myself standing outside Yan Yezhen's room with a food tray.
Why? Because apparently, "acts of care" counted toward affection. And I was desperate.
I stared at the door for a full minute, tray wobbling in my hands.
"Just knock," I whispered to myself. "Normal people knock. You're normal. This is normal."
> Reminder: Staring at the door for too long reduces perceived confidence by 10%.
"Not helping!"
Finally, I knocked. The sound was embarrassingly soft, like a shy squirrel politely requesting entry.
After a pause, a faint voice answered, "Come in."
I slid the door open — and immediately forgot how to breathe.
Yan Yezhen was sitting by the window, pale light washing over his face. His hair, still damp from the morning, clung to his neck in inky strands. A bandage wrapped loosely around his wrist, peeking from under his sleeve.
He looked calm. Distant. Beautiful in that fragile, snow-on-glass kind of way.
I cleared my throat. "Uh. I brought food."
He blinked, surprised. "For me?"
"No, for the table," I deadpanned. "Of course for you. You haven't eaten since dawn."
A faint crease appeared between his brows, like he wasn't used to someone noticing. "You didn't have to."
"I know," I said, setting the tray down beside him. "But apparently, I did."
He glanced up at me. "...Apparently?"
Crap. "I mean—it's what a decent person does. You know. Food. Nutrition. Survival."
Smooth, Lu Shen. Truly the peak of seduction.
He studied me for a moment, then — to my shock — a faint smile curved his lips. It was small, quick, but real.
> Ding! Affection +5. Current total: 70.
"Are you seriously counting in real time?" I muttered.
> Transparency improves Host engagement.
I ignored it, pushing the bowl toward him. "Eat. You need strength."
Yan Yezhen hesitated before picking up the chopsticks. "It smells good."
"Of course it does. I bribed the kitchen with spirit stones."
He paused mid-bite. "You… bribed them?"
"Desperate times," I shrugged. "You have no idea how much paperwork it takes to get the kitchen to make congee for an outer disciple."
That earned me another look — thoughtful, quiet.
Then he asked, softly, "Why are you doing this?"
I blinked. "Doing what?"
"Being kind to me."
There it was — the question that made my stomach twist.
Because the real answer was to survive. Because the System told me to. Because if I didn't, I'd be erased like a typo.
But I couldn't say any of that.
So I smiled instead. "Maybe I'm trying out this thing called empathy. You should try it sometime."
To my surprise, he actually chuckled — a soft sound, short and breathy, like he hadn't laughed in a long time.
> Ding! Affection +10. Current total: 80.
"Stop dinging!" I hissed under my breath.
He tilted his head. "...What?"
"Nothing. Meditation practice. Helps with… inner balance."
He gave me a skeptical look, but didn't press.
---
Over the next few days, I threw myself into "Operation Don't Die via Seduction."
I brought him food. Checked on his wounds. Casually lingered by the training grounds to make sure no one bullied him again.
Was it weirdly domestic? Yes.
Was it working? Also yes — judging by the occasional soft smiles and the way his gaze lingered when he thought I wasn't looking.
Unfortunately, the sect noticed too.
One morning, while I was delivering breakfast again, Sun Yang leaned against the corridor wall with the smuggest grin I'd ever seen.
"Well, well, Young Master Lin," she said sweetly. "Someone's been awfully attentive lately."
I stopped dead. "What?"
She nodded toward the tray in my hands. "You bring him food. You walk him to the infirmary. You even yelled at a disciple for staring too long. Sounds like courtship behavior to me."
I choked. "C-courtship?! I'm not—! This isn't—!"
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Then what do you call it?"
"Pity!" I blurted out. "Pure, unadulterated pity!"
"Mm." She didn't sound convinced. "If you say so, Young Master Lin."
> Host denial detected. Confidence -2.
"Shut up," I hissed.
> Apologies. Encouragement activated: You're doing amazing, sweetie.
"Stop calling me sweetie!"
Sun Yang gave me a confused look. "Who?"
"...No one."
I stomped away before she could say anything else.
---
That evening, I sat in the courtyard again, exhausted.
Yan Yezhen had gone to rest early, his strength still unstable, but his recovery was astonishing. Every day, his aura grew stronger — more refined, more controlled. And every day, I caught myself staring longer than I should.
Which was not part of the mission.
"Focus," I muttered to myself. "This is survival, not attraction. You're just… emotionally investing in your continued existence. Totally normal."
> Reminder: Affection progression increases exponentially when emotional reciprocity develops.
"Are you implying I'm catching feelings?" I snapped.
> No comment.
"Then don't comment!"
> Comment withdrawn.
I groaned, sinking lower in my chair. "I'm talking to an imaginary voice about relationship progress. Fantastic. New low unlocked."
---
The moon had risen by the time I finally went to check on Yan Yezhen again. I found him sitting by the window, just like before, moonlight painting his features silver.
He looked up as I entered. "You're still awake."
"I could say the same." I sat down opposite him, setting another bowl of soup on the table. "You should rest. Overexerting yourself won't make you stronger faster."
He nodded, but his gaze didn't leave my face. "You've been… different lately."
My stomach dropped. "Different how?"
"Before, you never looked at me. Never spoke unless to scold. Now you…" He trailed off, eyes flickering away. "You smile."
I blinked. "Do I?"
He gave a faint nod. "You do."
For a moment, silence stretched between us — comfortable, warm. The kind of silence that didn't need to be filled.
Then I realized I was smiling again.
And that he was watching.
"...What?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
He shook his head slightly, a rare softness in his eyes. "Nothing."
The air felt charged — not with qi, but something else. Something that made my heartbeat stumble.
> Ding! Major Progress Detected. Affection +20. Current total: 100.
My mind went blank. "Wait—what—already?!"
> Congratulations, Host. Mission complete. Reward: Temporary Survival Extension unlocked.
"Temporary?!"
> Next Mission will unlock in three days. Enjoy your peace while it lasts.
I stared at the empty space where the voice had faded, jaw tight. "Peace. Right."
When I glanced back, Yan Yezhen was still watching me, an unreadable expression in those glacial eyes.
"Everything all right?" he asked softly.
I forced a grin. "Yeah. Just… plotting how to survive divine bureaucracy."
He smiled — small, but genuine. "You're strange, Lin Feng."
"You have no idea," I muttered.
Outside, the wind shifted, carrying the scent of rain again. Inside, under the pale glow of moonlight, something delicate began to form — a thread of trust, of warmth, of something that shouldn't have existed between a transmigrator and the world's future Heavenly Lord.
And somehow, against every law of the plot, it felt real.