CONGRATULATIONS USER: ROMANTIC ENCOUNTER ACHIEVED +100 POINTS
The system's announcement boomed in Yi Ming's mind, accompanied by a cascade of glittering fireworks exploding in the depths of his consciousness. Each crackle and pop painted vibrant hues across the dark void, a celebration he could almost feel beneath his skin. His gaze shifted to the bright neon screen hovering before him, its glow illuminating his awestruck face.
He blinked in disbelief as the numbers danced before his eyes—300 points, with 200 bonus points gleaming like jewels in the corner of the display. His heart swelled with triumph, though his satisfaction was short-lived.
Despite the fleeting yet undeniable moment—a swift kiss Shudu had planted on Xue Tuzi's lips—he noticed with dismay that no additional bonus points had been awarded. It was a cruel oversight, as if the system mocked his efforts. His eyes darted to the icons above their names: Shudu's hearts, now two brilliant, pulsating pinks, radiated warmth and life, while Xue Tuzi's hearts remained pitch black and unyielding, as cold and distant as a winter's night.
Yi Ming let out a groan, tugging at his hair in exasperation. "What does a man need to do to earn your affection, Xue Tuzi?!" he shouted, shaking his fist at the stubbornly static screen. His voice echoed in the void, tinged with frustration and desperation, while the system remained silent.
Xue Laohu let out a weary sigh as he made his way to Xue Tuzi's quarters. The recent match had ended in victory, but it came at a steep cost. Casualties had piled up, leaving Xue Tuzi, Jiao Jiao, and even Sect Leader Mao nursing injuries. Despite their dazzling energy on the field, the connection between Xue Tuzi and Shudu remained stagnant, devoid of the romantic spark Yi Ming had hoped for. Was the system malfunctioning? The thought nagged at Yi Ming as he stepped into Xue Tuzi's dimly lit room.
Xue Tuzi lay on the bed, his pale chest exposed, rising and falling gently with each breath. Jiao Jiao, the tiny Gu worm, was nestled snugly against him, latched to his chest and feeding contentedly. The delicate gems adorning Xue Tuzi's nipples glimmered faintly in the soft light as he absently patted Jiao Jiao's back, coaxing a satisfied burp from the creature as it fed on his negative energy.
"Shizun," Xue Tuzi murmured, noticing Xue Laohu's presence. He made an effort to sit up, but before he could, Xue Laohu placed a firm hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him back down.
"There's no need," Xue Laohu said, his voice calm yet commanding. He crossed the room, seating himself gracefully in a nearby chair and unfurling his fan with a practiced flick. As he began fanning himself, a faint smile touched his lips. "I was very impressed with your performance."
Xue Tuzi flushed at the compliment, his cheeks tinged with a soft pink. "Shizun is far too generous," he replied, his tone deferential.
"No, I mean it," Xue Laohu insisted, leaning forward slightly. "You were incredible out there. Honestly, I wish you'd been on my team back then…" His voice trailed off, a wistful look crossing his face as he recalled the lackluster team he'd been saddled with in his past life in the modern world.
"Well," Xue Tuzi said, his eyes lifting to meet Xue Laohu's, "This disciple is in Shizun's team now. Is that not enough?"
Xue Laohu's smile brightened, his fan pausing mid-swing. "Of course it's enough," he said cheerfully.
Before he could elaborate, an obnoxious, guttural cough interrupted the moment. It grated in his ears like nails on a chalkboard, relentless and insistent. He scowled, clapping his hands over his ears in frustration, remembering with dismay that only he could hear the system's intrusive noises.
The neon screen materialized in his mind, its vibrant lettering glowing with a maddening urgency.
NEW MISSION: WHISPERS BENEATH THE PEACH BLOSSOM TREE
THIS BUD WILL BLOOM WITH THE TENDER LOVE THAT THE SHOU MC AND GONG ML HAVE FOR EACH OTHER.
BONUS POINTS: SPICY ENCOUNTERS +50
DEDUCTION POINTS: CONFLICT AND MISUNDERSTANDINGS WILL RESULT IN -100
Yi Ming groaned inwardly, the path was never straightforward—especially not when the system was involved.
"NEGATIVE ONE HUNDRED?!" Xue Laohu roared, his voice reverberating through the room. For a moment, he forgot that only he could see the glaring neon screen flickering in front of his face. The system's relentless penalties flashed before his eyes, mocking him with their harsh judgment. He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned, frustration simmering beneath his composed facade.
How does it make sense? Fifty points for spicy moments but negative one hundred for an argument? he fumed internally, massaging his temples as if to soothe the headache the system so often inspired.
"Shizun, is everything alright?" Xue Tuzi's gentle voice broke through his spiraling thoughts. Concern softened his features as he sat up, reaching out instinctively to massage Xue Laohu's head.
"I'm fine, just a little headache," Xue Laohu replied quickly, waving off the gesture. He placed a reassuring hand on Xue Tuzi's shoulder, patting it softly before offering a faint smile. "Rest well. I'll come check on you later."
Xue Tuzi hesitated but eventually nodded, watching as Xue Laohu straightened and clasped his hands behind his back. He turned on his heel, his robes billowing slightly as he strode out into the room, his expression dark with brooding thoughts.
Walking beneath the sunlight, Xue Laohu frowned, muttering to himself. How am I supposed to make this work? He had been somewhat successful so far, but the system's rules were maddeningly skewed. Deep down, he felt overdue for a catastrophic failure.
He sighed heavily, stopping in his tracks. "Hey yo, system!" he called out into the void.
The response came almost immediately: the sound of someone clearing their throat, followed by a wet, guttural spitting noise. Yi Ming's brow twitched violently, his jaw tightening in barely contained disgust. Why does it always have to be this obnoxious?
The neon screen flared back to life with an exaggerated 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."
Yi Ming froze, letting out a long, drawn-out sigh. Every time he heard the overblown title of this so-called "romantic novel," he felt an overwhelming urge to rip his own ears off. What was his sister even reading? He shook his head in disgust.
"How come I've earned 'spicy' points, yet Xue Tuzi's heart is still jet black?" he asked hesitantly, though a part of him regretted speaking up. What if those spicy points were a fluke, and the system was about to correct its mistake?
SPICY POINTS CAN BE EARNED EVEN IF THE CHARACTERS DO NOT HAVE MUTUAL FEELINGS FOR EACH OTHER.
The text glowed smugly on the screen, and Yi Ming's face went completely flat. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks: Shudu had been taking full advantage of Yi Ming's carefully orchestrated setups. His Shou MC had been enduring harassment all this time, trapped in a one-sided dynamic that wasn't even remotely consensual.
Yi Ming groaned, rubbing his temples again. He felt a pang of guilt stabbing at his chest. I can't believe the system endorses Sexual Harassment where is HR? I wish to speak with them, he thought bitterly, shaking his head as he dismissed the screen with a flick of his hand.
As he continued walking, trying to clear his mind, he caught snippets of conversation drifting from a cluster of female disciples nearby. They were whispering excitedly about the blossoming at Lake Tao Hu—a rare and beautiful event that was said to inspire love and renewal.
Xue Laohu paused, a flicker of an idea sparking to life in his mind. Perhaps the lake would be the perfect setting for his next attempt to salvage this romance.
"The peach blossoms are set to be in full bloom this week," one of the girls said, her voice carrying a note of excitement as she bent down to gather the arrows scattered from their practice session.
Her companion, a younger disciple with flushed cheeks, hesitated before whispering shyly, "Do you think he'll confess to me?"
The first girl straightened, brushing dirt from her hands, and offered a knowing smile. "I guess you'll find out if he takes you to Lake Tao Hu."
Her words hung in the air, laden with meaning. Every year, during the blooming of the peach blossoms, it was tradition for the disciples of Sect Mount Dingbu to bring their love interest to Lake Tao Hu to confess their feelings. The ritual was as old as the sect itself, steeped in romance and anticipation.
The lake, surrounded by peach trees in full bloom, was said to embody the spirit of renewal and love. Petals would drift lazily across its shimmering surface, painting it in hues of pink and gold, creating a scene so enchanting it was as if the heavens themselves had blessed the union of two souls.
For the disciples, this tradition was more than just a custom—it was a moment of vulnerability and courage, a chance to bare their hearts under the watchful gaze of nature's fleeting beauty. Whether met with reciprocation or rejection, the confessions made at Lake Tao Hu became stories that echoed through the halls of the sect for generations to come.
It was said—half in awe, half in terror—Madam Mao had taken Sect Leader Mao to Lake Tao Hu when they were both just disciples to profess her love. The tale, passed down through whispered conversations and incredulous chuckles, painted a vivid picture of that fateful evening.
The lake, serene and shimmering beneath the pale moonlight, was a romantic paradise. The delicate petals of peach blossoms floated like confetti on the water, casting a dreamy spell over all who ventured there. But for Sect Leader Mao, the enchantment of the setting was interrupted by a much sharper reality—a dagger, gleaming under the starlight, pressed firmly against his throat.
"Refuse me," Madam Mao had said, her voice as calm and commanding as the still waters of the lake, "and you will become one with the blossoms tonight."
Sect Leader Mao, known across the sect for his unshakable composure and battle-hardened bravery, felt his knees wobble. Yet, as the sharp edge of her blade hovered against his skin, he did not hesitate. Perhaps it was the fire in her eyes, the resolute set of her jaw, or the undeniable fact that no one dared challenge Madam Mao—not even him.
With a bow of his head, he smiled wryly. "Shimei," he said, his tone warm and unwavering, "I would sooner walk into the Eighteen Hells unarmed than refuse you. You have no need for threats. My answer is yes—gladly, willingly, wholeheartedly."
The dagger lowered, and Madam Mao's lips curved into a satisfied smile. She tucked the blade away, as if this were the most natural courtship in the world, and offered him her hand. "Good. I prefer a husband with sense."
The story did not end there, of course. For years afterward, the disciples of Sect Mount Dingbu would marvel at the audacity of Madam Mao's confession and Sect Leader Mao's relieved acceptance.
"It was only a matter of time," they whispered. "Not a single man had the courage to approach Madam Mao, not even Sect Leader Mao himself!"
And when asked, Sect Leader Mao himself would laugh and shrug. "When she asked me out," he admitted with a mischievous glint in his eye, "I was just relieved to be chosen. Imagine courting her and failing—it's a risk no man in his right mind would take."
Madam Mao, overhearing these remarks, would lift a single brow and coolly reply, "Indeed. A little persuasion never hurt anyone."
To this day, their union was remembered as a legend. Perfect. Yi Ming thought to himself, a slow grin spreading across his face. The plan was simple, yet foolproof: he would take his disciples, along with Shudu, to see the peach blossoms under the pretense that it was their reward for winning the match. The timing was ideal—the blossoms would be in full bloom, their delicate fragrance saturating the air, their petals falling like snowflakes. And perhaps, under this magical cascade of pink and white, Shudu could finally confess his love for Xue Tuzi.
Yi Ming closed his eyes, letting the vision unfold in his mind like a scene from a romance drama. He could see it now—Xue Tuzi, ethereal in pristine white robes that seemed to shimmer in the soft moonlight. The fabric would be thin, almost translucent, catching the glow of the lake and clinging faintly to his form. His chestnut brown hair would fall loosely over his shoulders, save for a single pink ribbon neatly fastened at the crown of his head, its soft hue echoing the blossoms around him.
Delicate strands of shimmering thread, painstakingly crafted by none other than Jiao Jiao, would weave through his hair like starlight, catching the faintest glimmer of light. His lips, flushed and soft, would part slightly as he gazed at the scenery, a vision of innocent beauty. In his arms, Jiao Jiao would rest contentedly, the little Gu worm exuding an air of smug satisfaction as if sensing the romance in the air.
And then there would be Shudu—bolder than the boldest blossom, his wolfish grin sharp and knowing. The strength of his presence would command the space around him, his masculine aura almost tangible, like a magnetic force pulling everything into orbit. His hand would rise, holding the most dazzling peach blossom he could find, offering it to Xue Tuzi with a casual grace that belied the depth of his emotions.
Xue Tuzi's heart would race, Yi Ming thought dreamily. The younger disciple would glance away, his pale cheeks dusted with pink, as though the petals themselves had kissed him. Shudu would step closer, his confidence unwavering, and under the moonlit rain of petals, their lips would meet in a perfect, storybook kiss.
Lost in his elaborate daydream, Xue Laohu had forgotten that he was still standing out in the open, puckering his lips like an actor rehearsing a grand romantic gesture. It was an unfortunate moment for Li Zhameng to find him.
"Shizun!" Li Zhameng called out, breathless from his search. Before Xue Laohu could react, his daydream shattered, and Li Zhameng, stepping closer to get his attention, received an unexpected smooch square on his cheek.
The world seemed to pause. Li Zhameng's face flushed a deep, fiery red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he stuttered, "Sh-Shizun!"
Nearby, the female disciples, who had been gathering bows and arrows from their training session, froze in place. They cocked their brows, exchanging sly side-eyes before scurrying off with muffled giggles, murmuring to each other in scandalized tones.
"Eh... it's not what you think!" Xue Laohu yelled after them, waving his hands in protest. His voice carried over the courtyard, but it only seemed to make the situation worse as the disciples' laughter trailed off in the distance.
Li Zhameng, his face still blazing red, attempted to hide his embarrassment behind his hand. His hair fluttered with the sudden gust of wind, further emphasizing his flustered state.
"Hey," Xue Laohu said, his tone softer, reaching out to gently grab Li Zhameng's hand and pull it away from his face. The younger man's skin was hot to the touch, his gaze darting everywhere but at his Shizun. Before Xue Laohu could utter one of his usual remarks, Li Zhameng moved swiftly, placing his own hand over Xue Laohu's mouth.
"There's no need," Li Zhameng murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "This one understands."
Xue Laohu's eyes widened at the unexpected response. He felt the weight of Li Zhameng's words settle over him, their layered meaning left unspoken but obvious. For once, he was at a loss. He took a measured step back, pulling himself from Li Zhameng's grasp. Turning his back to him, he clasped his hands behind him and straightened his posture, his voice regaining its usual sternness.
"Good," he said curtly, as though nothing unusual had just occurred.
Without missing a beat, he continued, his tone more measured. "I've been meaning to reward my disciples for their victory in yesterday's match. You, A-Tuzi, Shudu, Jiao Jiao, and Xiao Zongzi will join me for a viewing of the peach blossoms."
He flicked his fan open with a practiced elegance, the snap of its motion cutting through the charged air. With that, he walked away, fanning himself lightly. The folds of his robes billowed as he moved, catching the golden sunlight, making him appear ethereal, almost otherworldly.
Li Zhameng watched him go, his hand lingering near his face as if still feeling the fleeting touch of his Shizun's hand. His heart raced, his mind spinning, but he said nothing. Li Zhameng's imagination unraveled a scene so vivid it made his heart race. He could see it now-his Shizun standing under a gentle storm of peach blossom petals, each one drifting down like delicate snowflakes, framing his ethereal beauty. The soft light of the late afternoon would catch the faint sheen of his skin, and his elegant robes would ripple with the breeze, lending him an otherworldly grace.
Li Zhameng's gaze would be drawn to the way his Shizun's wispy bangs fluttered against his forehead, the breeze teasing them just enough to make him run a hand through his short, shaggy hair in that effortless, confident manner he always had. A single petal would land softly on his shoulder, and with a faint smile, he'd pluck it off, holding it up to his nose. Li Zhameng imagined himself watching intently as his Shizun sniffed the blossom with an intensity that made even such a small action seem impossibly captivating.
And then it would happen. His Shizun would turn to him, his eyes soft and his expression unreadable, leaning in closer until the warmth of his breath tickled the crook of Li Zhameng's neck. His lips would hover near his ear, and in that velvety voice that always sent shivers down his spine, he would murmur, "Meng Meng."
The sound of his name spoken so intimately would undo him entirely. Unable to restrain the flood of emotions coursing through him, Li Zhameng would reach out, wrapping his arms around his Shizun in one swift, desperate motion. The world would blur as he pulled him closer, tilting his face to meet his Shizun's lips in a kiss that was both fervent and raw, as if pouring every unspoken word into that single moment.
The two of them would tumble together, their bodies sinking into a bed of soft petals that seemed to bloom beneath them. The scent of peach blossoms would swirl around them, heady and intoxicating, as if nature itself conspired to bless their union. Li Zhameng could almost feel the softness of the petals against his skin, the warmth of his Shizun pressed against him, and the undeniable certainty that this moment was meant to be.
He snapped out of his reverie, his heart pounding, his face flushed. The courtyard was quiet save for the distant rustle of the wind through the peach trees, but the vision lingered in his mind, vivid and insistent. With a deep breath, he tried to shake the fantasy away, yet the yearning in his chest remained. Someday, he thought, his fingers clenching into fists. Someday, he'll make it real.
Blah Blah Blah:
Oh, before I forget, the reason she was willing to kill Sect Leader Mao if he rejected her, was quite frankly, because she wouldn't be able to live with herself knowing she got rejected. Dispatching him, although against the Sects rules, would ensure no one would find out about the rejection. She's quite a prideful lady thankfully Sect Leader Mao is a smart man.