“The host has acquired the spirit spring healing, HP +10, +10, +10…”
In a daze, Mi Dao felt as if he were soaking in a hot spring, with all his pores opened up.
It was quite comfortable; he even wished he could die in this blissful state and move on to the next script…
“Ding! The host’s HP has risen to 20%, reaching the awakening threshold. Please open your eyes to indicate you are awake.”
Mi Dao: “…”
He stubbornly kept his eyes closed.
The system said, “Current script completion: 85%. Please keep up the effort, victory is just around the corner!”
Mi Dao: “…”
Oh, come on.
Fifteen percent completion! Fifteen! And it was fifteen percent of a cultivation script!
The last time he got this script to 85% was ten years ago. Although time flowed much faster in the game world than in reality and he could skip through some less important segments by entering seclusion, still—
It felt like finishing an exam only to find there’s still one question left… Truly, anyone in this situation would feel the same frustration.
With heartfelt sincerity, Mi Dao asked, “Hey, System, do you have something against me? Why can’t you just let me leave in peace?”
The system replied, “Shouldn’t you be asking your beloved son that?”
Mi Dao: “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
The system: “…”
It felt like something was off.
Mi Dao opened his eyes to see mist swirling and water rippling in front of him.
The smooth stone walls around him looked somewhat familiar, and he found himself soaking in a spirit spring rich in aura, his HP slowly rising.
The game timer in the bottom right corner showed that only three days had passed since he fell off the cliff.
Looking down at his left chest, he noticed the fresh scar where he had been stabbed; now it was just a mark.
He must have been saved by someone.
Mi Dao hung his arms over the edge of the pool, tilted his head up at a 45-degree angle, and sorrowfully gazed at the sky.
“Sigh, hidden plot, why must you be hidden? Why does fate allow our paths to cross?”
The system: “…”
This hidden plot was a storyline randomly generated by the AI system based on the current game progress, drawn from multiple possible endings, with a triggering rate of less than 1%.
Because hidden plots were randomly generated, even Mi Dao, the writer, could not fully predict what would happen next.
It was certainly quite unfortunate.
Based on the current developments in the main character relationships, the trajectory of the protagonist killing friends to save a wife should remain unchanged.
Though Mi Dao had been saved this time, according to the persona of the demon lord Ye Wuchang, he would definitely seek out the protagonist again to offer his own head, and would do so willingly.
Because Ye Wuchang was deeply in love with the protagonist.
Mi Dao: “…”
Cough, this was all his own fault.
Years ago, to get closer to the protagonist, Mi Dao had chosen to embark on the “young demon clan heir saved by the protagonist” friendship route.
But he hadn’t expected that the game was so well-crafted it could automatically detect players’ orientations and make subtle adjustments to character relationships accordingly. Thus—Ye Wuchang became a character with an unrequited love for the protagonist, and there was no turning back.
Yes, Mi Dao was gay and preferred to be the one enjoying the comforts of life (T/N: well… he’s a bottom ☉ ‿ ⚆ ).
However, the protagonist wasn’t Mi Dao’s type; after all, a son was still a son. Faced with the protagonist, Mi Dao’s heart was filled with paternal affection. He only acted deeply in love with the protagonist to maintain his character’s persona.
So, considering the current situation, the remaining plot shouldn’t be too complicated.
He just needed to find out who saved him, express appropriate gratitude, swiftly eliminate the possibility of other plot developments, and then go find his beloved son to deliver the inner core.
Mi Dao was naively thinking this until he heard a male voice behind him.
“Shixiong*, you’re awake.”
*T/N: “Senior Brother”, but I’ll use Shixiong instead since it captures the nuance better :>
Mi Dao’s heart skipped a beat as he turned around.
At the cave entrance stood a tall man, holding a pile of clothes in his hands. The mist obscured his expression, but his deep, abyss-like gaze fixed intently on Mi Dao, leaving him no chance to escape.
Mi Dao felt a shiver run down his spine under that stare and couldn’t help but look away.
“Ah Shuo…”
He thought he would never have the chance to see that face again.
The man’s name was Wei Yaoshuo, Mi Dao’s junior brother, and one of the characters Mi Dao had always favored the most.
The reason Mi Dao liked him was simple: his character was exactly to Mi Dao’s taste, a character he had added to the script to satisfy his own desires.
Wei Yaoshuo had been abandoned by his parents in his infancy and was rescued by the disciples of the Sun Heaven Sect, growing up there.
However, due to his frail childhood and the lack of familial support, he was often bullied by his peers, developing a persona that was superficially affable but deeply dark and obsessive.
Despite this, Wei Yaoshuo was resilient; although he wasn’t as gifted as the protagonist, he eventually became one of the most powerful figures in the cultivation world, second only to the protagonist.
In the original script, Wei Yaoshuo either received the protagonist’s care in his youth and became the greatest support for the protagonist’s ascent to divinity or was ignored by the protagonist but fell in love with the kind and innocent heroine, Sheng Yiling, becoming the final boss of the story.
However, in the current situation, Mi Dao had no way of knowing which path Wei Yaoshuo would take. After all, since revealing his identity as a demon clan member, it had been ten years since they last met.
Looking at Wei Yaoshuo’s face, Mi Dao pressed a hand to his racing heart and thought, “…Wow! He really is the man I have set my eyes on; he looks amazing! I haven’t had a love life in ages!”
The system: “What do those two statements have in common?”
Mi Dao: “Of course, it’s cute, like the sun!”
The system, with a deadpan expression, said, “Didn’t you just take care of that yourself yesterday?”
Mi Dao raised an eyebrow. “Little imp, don’t doubt my ability to do it seven times in one night.”
The system: “…”
It had traveled the world for years and had never seen such a brazen host.
Wei Yaoshuo approached, placing the clothes on a soft couch by the pool, then knelt beside Mi Dao.
His gaze softened as he looked at Mi Dao. “How do you feel, Shixiong? Is the wound still painful?”
Hearing such a familiar and caring tone, Mi Dao momentarily froze.
It felt as if everything had returned to shortly after the beginning of the script.
To boost his son’s favorability, Mi Dao often snuck out with his beloved son, only to be caught by their master and receive a beating.
Whenever Mi Dao cried out in distress, the young Wei Yaoshuo would appear with a medicine box, gently applying ointment to his sore bottom, asking, “How do you feel, Shixiong? Does it still hurt?”
…
In a flash, years had passed, and the person before him was no longer a child.
Yet, that single question made Mi Dao feel as if nothing had ever stood between them, not even “ten years.”
Lowering his gaze, Mi Dao’s expression turned lonely and desolate.
He forced a smile and shook his head. “Ah Shuo, why did you save me? I’m hated deeply by Shixiong, and all the brothers and sisters in the sect are jealous of me. You know very well what my current identity is…”
Wei Yaoshuo merely smiled gently, his features obscured by a veil of mist, making it hard to see clearly.
He said in a warm voice, “Ah Shuo knows. It’s just that Ah Shuo has never cared where Shixiong comes from or what identity he holds—Shixiong is just Shixiong.”
Mi Dao was touched by his words, warmth filling his heart. He furrowed his brows and chuckled softly, “You…”
Internally, he felt quite pleased, boasting to the system, “Hey, System, did you see that? He truly is the man I’ve trained since childhood! Look how he cares for me!”
The system: “Caring, caring, caring enough to give you hidden plots.”
Mi Dao: “…Shut up! Shameless old thief!”
Wei Yaoshuo simply smiled and didn’t say much more, instead taking Mi Dao’s pulse and using his skills to check for internal injuries.
Overwhelmed by the system’s criticisms, Mi Dao lay there with a sense of despair, allowing Wei Yaoshuo to examine him.
The cave grew quiet, filled only with the gentle sound of flowing water and their alternating breaths. Wei Yaoshuo’s fingers pressed against Mi Dao’s wrist, the skin-to-skin contact made the slick Mi Dao feel a bit dry-mouthed.
Clearing his throat, Mi Dao asked, “Where… is this place?”
Wei Yaoshuo replied, “Shixiong forgot? This is Shixiong’s Lingyun Peak.”
Oh no.
No wonder he felt this place looked familiar; it turned out to be his own den.
Mi Dao lowered his gaze and chuckled, “It’s been ten years since I last returned; no wonder it feels strange.”
After a moment, he added, “…Now that I’m here, does my senior brother know?”
The fingers resting on his wrist seemed to stiffen for a moment, and Mi Dao didn’t hear Wei Yaoshuo’s response.
Wha… what’s going on?
Just as Mi Dao was about to turn around to check his expression, Wei Yaoshuo seemed to ignore Mi Dao’s earlier question and said with a smile, “Let me help my senior brother heal.”
With that, Wei Yaoshuo rolled up his sleeves, revealing his firm and attractive forearms.
He cupped some water and splashed it onto Mi Dao’s shoulder, then pressed his palm upward, channeling his spiritual energy into Mi Dao’s body.
When Mi Dao felt the warm palm press against him, he shivered all over.
“Holy crap! System, I’m going to die…”
System: “Wei Yaoshuo has no intention to harm the host.”
Mi Dao: “…I’m going to die from arousal.”
System: “…Just be overwhelmed then.”
