Chapter 50: “Without My Protection, You Will Die.” Part 1

In that instant of realization, it was as if a bolt of lightning flashed through, accompanied by a deafening thunderclap, illuminating the surrounding darkness.

The light vanished in a flash, followed by a heavy downpour that washed away the mud that had been hindering his progress.

Then the rain stopped, and the moon emerged.

Meieruita turned his head to look at An Luo.

An Luo was intently studying the witchcraft book in his hands, though he looked like he desperately wanted to doze off. Every time he turned a page, he paused for a rest, briefly escaping, before reluctantly returning his gaze to the book with a helpless expression.

The firelight and the candle by the bed draped a layer of pale gold over his face.

Meieruita had always known that An Luo was very handsome.

Previously, he hadn’t dwelled much on the implications of that, attempting to guess his identity from his appearance but ultimately failing.

But now, his gaze swept over An Luo’s lowered brows, soft contours, and beautifully shaped, slightly moist lips. These pretty, gentle features now seemed to carry a profound meaning, like a riddle hinting at its final answer.

Mother…?

The thought was absurd, groundless—in a sense, a form of self-deception—because An Luo hadn’t changed at all. He was still the Creator. The only thing that had changed was Meieruita’s own perception.

Meieruita knew this full well, but the notion lingered, unshakeable. He wanted An Luo to be his “mother.” This role acted like an anesthetic on a knife’s edge, allowing him to escape the chaos of his emotions.

It was merely an excuse he gave himself to regain control.

Meieruita closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down.

He analyzed his inner turmoil.

The surging tide was already unstoppable. Resisting it would do more harm than good, only causing the waters to build higher and lead to uncontrollable consequences.

If that was the case, it was better to go with the flow.

Meieruita’s rational analysis weighed the lesser of two evils.

Now, only one question remained.

Would An Luo… be a controllable mother?

Would he be tolerant enough? Gentle enough?

Would he vie with Meieruita for control?

Meieruita opened his eyes and gazed deeply at An Luo.

“What’s wrong?”

Noticing his stare, An Luo looked over in confusion.

His slightly widened eyes were a bit round, his long black lashes fluttering, the orange-red firelight reflecting on half his face.

Meieruita didn’t answer. He stood and walked toward An Luo.

An Luo watched as Meieruita drew closer and closer, then sat on the edge of the bed.

Beneath the black wizard robe, his pale, broad hands emerged like some alien creature half-protruding from its cave.

Meieruita stared fixedly at An Luo for a moment. His face, which perfectly matched An Luo’s aesthetic preferences, bore a strange expression, his gray-green eyes harboring a faint bewilderment.

He said nothing, making An Luo increasingly tense. The air around them suddenly grew heavy, weighing down on his shoulders like lead, even lifting a finger feeling laborious.

An Luo blinked rapidly. Meieruita still didn’t speak, but he leaned in closer, his breath washing over An Luo as his face loomed larger in An Luo’s vision, stopping at an invasively close distance—close enough for An Luo to see the subtle tremor of his lashes.

What was going on?

This was a Western fantasy wizard story, not some Eastern cultivation tale. There were no settings like heart demons or qi deviation!

And in An Luo’s original novel, Meieruita had been emotionally stable from start to finish, never losing control, with incredibly strong mental fortitude.

But now…

An Luo felt that Meieruita had entered some strange state—like someone sleepwalking, if he had to compare.

Was this some side effect of witchcraft?

An Luo wasn’t sure if startling Meieruita awake now would cause harm, so he decided to observe quietly first. If Meieruita intended to make a move on him, he could try communicating then.

Meieruita’s pale hand rested on the back of An Luo’s hand.

His hand was large, with long fingers. An Luo had secretly thought before that these hands would be perfect for basketball or piano—gripping a ball or spanning an octave effortlessly.

This pale hand completely covered An Luo’s, then slowly slid upward along the back of his hand, like a spider crawling, the fingertips tapping lightly, creating a faint electric tingling sensation.

Soon, the hand loosely cupped An Luo’s shoulder. An Luo looked into Meieruita’s eyes, which still showed no sign of clarity.

Then, the hand on his shoulder released and instead grasped An Luo’s hand. Like examining a specimen, Meieruita cradled it in his palm, lowering his head to observe it with an oddly focused expression.

If the atmosphere weren’t so off, An Luo might have quipped, “Are you reading my palm?”

Then, Meieruita lifted his head and peered deeply into An Luo’s eyes. An Luo couldn’t discern what lay in them; deep within those gray-green depths lurked something twisted and grotesque.

As he stared into Meieruita’s eyes, he felt himself being stared at in return. He didn’t know what Meieruita saw in his eyes, but the prolonged gaze soon made An Luo uncomfortable. Still, he didn’t speak up, given how bizarre Meieruita’s condition was.

After a while, Meieruita blinked. He withdrew his gaze, as if confirming something. Then he grasped An Luo’s right hand again, his broad, pale hands enveloping it from both sides, wrapping it tightly. An Luo felt the pressure, but it wasn’t painful.

“What’s wrong?”

Finally, the eerie atmosphere became too much for An Luo to bear. He spoke softly, but Meieruita’s pupils contracted sharply, as if startled awake. He glanced at An Luo, then down at his own hands, before slowly withdrawing them from An Luo’s.

It wasn’t a release but a deliberate pull away—his rough palm rubbing slowly against the back of An Luo’s hand before parting, carrying a reluctant linger. An Luo found it too strange and asked again, “Are you feeling okay?”

“I feel fine.”

Meieruita stood up. He smiled, his thin lips curving into a slightly odd arc. He looked down at An Luo. “Don’t worry, I’m okay.”

His tone gradually returned to calm. “I was just confirming something.”

An Luo probed cautiously, “…What?”

“I’ve gotten the result I wanted,” Meieruita replied.

He nodded at An Luo, appearing fully recovered, though a lingering strangeness infused his movements. As he turned to leave, An Luo instinctively grabbed his dangling hand by his side.

Meieruita paused and looked back. “What’s wrong?”

An Luo eyed him suspiciously for a moment. The odd feeling from before had vanished; Meieruita had completely reverted to his usual self.

He let go and shook his head. “Nothing.”

Meieruita chuckled softly and returned to the desk.

Soon, only three days remained until the Apprentice Exam. An Luo felt the timing was right—it was time to tell Meieruita the rest of the plot.

Any longer, and it would be too late.

With that in mind, after Meieruita returned that evening, An Luo detailed the subsequent plot developments as thoroughly as possible:

“These are the major nodes,” An Luo said carefully. “Basically, that’s it. There are some minor details with little impact that I think won’t matter even if I don’t mention them.”

He went on at length, covering all aspects: key antagonists, important treasures, and insights beneficial to Meieruita’s research. Parched, he gulped down some water and asked, “Do you have any questions?”

While An Luo recounted the plot, Meieruita remained silent, his gray-green eyes lowered, lost in thought.

Since that eerie close encounter that night, Meieruita had often fallen into contemplation. An Luo figured he might have found new ideas for improving his witchcraft and didn’t pry.

“Why are you telling me this?” Meieruita lifted his head, his voice flat. “You don’t plan to pass the Apprentice Exam?”

Clearly, though preoccupied, he hadn’t missed a word An Luo said.

“It’s not about whether I plan to or not,” An Luo said. “Mainly, I don’t have the ability.”

Meieruita’s voice was even. “I told you before, you don’t need to worry about it. I’ll handle everything.”

An Luo: “…”

True, Meieruita had mentioned it, but An Luo hadn’t taken it seriously.

Such a perfect chance to shake him off—why would Meieruita pass it up?

It was just polite talk; An Luo hadn’t believed it for a second.

“I’m not questioning your ability,” An Luo said tactfully. “But can you take the exam for me?”

He lied through his teeth: “Of course, I know you care about me, but it’s fine. Even if I stay in the lower layer, I won’t get into trouble.”

“I’ve told you all the plot now,” An Luo said to Meieruita. “Nothing left to say. As for the Chinese runes, I’ll send you some every month once I finish writing them. Um… good luck on your journey ahead.”

He blurted it all out in one breath, his speech quicker than usual from haste and nerves.

“No need for proxy exams,” Meieruita said, lifting his eyelids to glance at An Luo. “This Apprentice Exam will be different from all the previous ones.”

An Luo: “…Huh?”

Different?

An Luo had a vague bad premonition.

“Yes,” Meieruita said. “The exam for junior apprentices advancing to mid-level apprentices won’t follow the old format.”

“Many low-level wizard apprentices in the Wizard Tower have been stuck here for a long time,” Meieruita said offhandedly. “They’ve formed cliques, suppressing talented newcomers, even plotting to murder those likely to advance to mid-level.”