Chapter 51 Part 2

With his face pointed forward.

He didn’t look back again.

The master of this grand residence was exceedingly warm and welcoming. The moment he saw them approaching, he waved a hand, dismissing the attendants at his side.

“How many years has it been?”

“Ah Yan, come on in here.”

It was the main hall, furnished with dark timber pieces. Yellow talisman papers adorned the surroundings, lending the space an intensely uncomfortable air.

Qi Jing had been set down at the entrance, but he resisted going inside. It wasn’t until the master asked in a mild tone, “How old are you?” that he began to relax.

“Nineteen.”

“Ah, so you’ve just started university…”

“Which one?”

Qi Jing’s wariness eased bit by bit. It would be rude not to respond, so he said softly, “Capital University.”

“That’s impressive!”

The boy shook his head at once. “No, no—the admission standards are different. I…”

“Hey now, don’t belittle your own hard work.”

“Just accept the praise.”

After a few casual exchanges like that, Qi Jing found himself drawn unwittingly into the main hall.

It felt profoundly uncomfortable.

Shen Nanzhi hadn’t followed them inside; it seemed she had been led off somewhere else. When Qi Jing glanced back, he didn’t spot her.

996 was peeking around the doorframe.

The boy’s gaze sharpened on it instantly. In his mind, he asked, 【Why aren’t you coming in?】

【Can I even enter a place like this?】

996 tentatively extended a leg, the edge of its gelatinous body just poking forward a tiny bit.

“Ah!”

A young voice cried out. Qi Jing whipped his head around involuntarily and saw a young man in a black T-shirt—not very tall—standing there.

“What’s the big fuss about?”

The master of the house reprimanded him sternly.

Qi Jing felt his finger pinched and snapped back to attention, realizing Bo Chengyan had been watching him the whole time.

His expression remained utterly calm.

Mysticism and science ran like parallel lines that never crossed, but there were moments when a person simply had to believe.

“Come over here so I can take a proper look at you.”

The young man nearby immediately stepped forward to lead the way. Qi Jing was ushered into a small side room. His mind was still on 996, but when he glanced back…

Nothing. Empty space.

It hadn’t come in?

The master of the house asked just a few routine questions—birth date and time, family background.

This information had long since been known.

It was merely an excuse to chat a little longer with the boy before him.

To study his facial features.

“You think I’m possessed or something?”

Qi Jing tilted his chin down and asked quietly.

He wasn’t slow-witted, just a bit delayed in his reactions. In the end, Bo Chengyan simply didn’t believe him…

He tilted his head back to look up.

The corners of his eyes were red.

He was unhappy.

“No, no! Hey, didn’t I explain? It’s just a little chain we’re making.”

The master hurried to reassure him.

“Besides, you haven’t run into anything strange, right?”

“Mm-hm.”

Qi Jing replied in a subdued tone.

Bo Chengyan merely lowered his gaze to regard him.

Ten minutes passed.

The boy was left alone in the room. Beyond the traditional latticed window, two shadows lingered—the master of the residence speaking with Bo Chengyan.

996 clambered up from beneath the desk, its beady eyes blinking rapidly.

【Little Jing?】

Qi Jing glanced down, holding his breath. 【You can come in after all.】

【Of course. Even this world has mysticism dungeons—what’s the big deal?】

The slime struggled to haul itself fully onto the surface, eager to boast a little more, when the sound of the door came.

996 dropped to the floor in an instant.

Qi Jing: “…”

Bo Chengyan cut an imposing figure, tall with perfect proportions. He looked down at the boy.

Qi Jing turned his head away.

Refusing to meet his eyes.

A string deep in Bo Chengyan’s heart was plucked.

The master of the house remained ever mild-mannered. He shook his head and walked over to the young man. “Didn’t he tell you? We’re making you a soul-soothing jewelry set.”

“Nothing serious. Weren’t you lost once? Wearing it afterward… well, it’ll ease your family’s worries, won’t it?”

Qi Jing blinked in confusion. Lost…? When had he ever been lost…

He looked up.

His eyes met a gaze that had grown profoundly heavy.

He had been brought to Harbor City.

Qi Jing’s lips parted slightly as realization dawned. He jerked his head away.

The tips of his ears flushed red, and his fingers twisted together nervously.

“Will you let us or not? Hm?”

The master was over sixty but brimming with vigor. Upon hearing the boy was still in his teens, he treated Qi Jing purely like a child.

The boy bit his lip for several seconds before suddenly remembering he shouldn’t. He released it at once.

Instinctively, his eyes flicked toward Bo Chengyan again.

“Hey, no need to look at him.”

Qi Jing offered no further resistance. After a moment’s thought, he said softly, “All right.”

The tension in the air eased considerably.

The Temple Master figured it wasn’t such a tough sell after all. He rose to his feet, exchanging a glance with the other man to signal all was well.

“Perfect—the setup’s ready. I’ll go inspect it.”

“Mm.”

Suddenly, the room held only the two of them once more.

Qi Jing wasn’t sure if this qualified as a cold war. He had felt completely in the right at first, but that offhand mention of him being “lost” had instantly sapped his resolve.

He felt utterly adrift now, his fingers lying limp against the chair as he secretly gnawed at the soft flesh inside his cheek.

Not making a sound.

Until—

“Turn around.”

Bo Chengyan’s tone was perfectly even.

Qi Jing looked up, his eyes clear and guileless. But before he could speak, the other man bent down toward him.

In an almost reflexive motion, he reached out and clung to those broad shoulders.

A calm voice murmured by his ear.

“No more fussing.”

“You can get as angry as you like once we’re home.”

The boy’s eyelids drooped, his ears still pink. He actually wanted to explain what had happened that day.

But at that moment—

The door sounded.

He never got the chance.

They ended up in a chamber lined with strings, each one bound with indecipherable sutra verses and talisman papers. At the far end sat a cushion.

Terrified, Qi Jing tried to wriggle free at once, but a firm hold kept him securely in place. He couldn’t budge.

He grew angry.

He pushed at the chest in front of him.

But even his wrists were captured.

Bo Chengyan’s gaze lowered slightly. He had anticipated this reluctance, but he absolutely refused to let the events of last time repeat themselves.

“Little Jing, Master Chen has been waiting a long time for you. He’s not a bad person.”

His tone brimmed with patience.

Bo Chengyan never shied away from acknowledging the flawed aspects of his own character—like right now, when he was perfectly willing to invoke another person’s name just to coax compliance from the one in his arms.

A classic case of lousy Chinese parenting.

The boy’s nose had turned red. Realizing his behavior was out of line, he tugged his hand free and rubbed at his eyes.

His slender chest rose and fell as he struggled to compose himself.

Emotionally regulating.

“I understand.”

“Put me down.”

Qi Jing’s eyelashes had grown damp. He pulled his wrist free and turned his head aside.

He was angry now.

Bo Chengyan’s brows knit together as he set the boy down. He had been about to say something more.

But the warmth in his palm faded away.

Because Qi Jing had taken a step back.

To the Temple Master, Qi Jing said, “I’m sorry. I don’t think you’re a bad person. I’m just a little scared.”

He expressed his feelings with utmost sincerity.

“It’s fine. These are soul-pacifying instruments—think of them as pure music.”

“They’ll keep the nightmares at bay.”

“Your health will improve too.”

The Temple Master found the whole thing rather entertaining. He’d never seen anyone stand up to… that guy… quite like this.

Flat-out ignoring him.

“Don’t stay mad. It costs a pretty penny to have me here, you know.”

“Just go in and listen.”

“I guarantee it’ll be quick.”

The Temple Master even raised his hand, as if swearing an oath.

Qi Jing was just stunned for a moment. Very expensive… just how expensive?

In the end, he went into that room, sat down on the prayer mat, and closed his eyes as instructed.

He was still a bit scared, though.

Because after nearly a quarter of an hour, he heard someone enter, seemingly arranging musical instruments.

Then the chanting began.

996 wasn’t sure if it was trying to steer clear of itself or what.

It crouched in a corner of the house, waiting, its beady eyes blinking away—only to lock eyes with that little apprentice once again.

【……】

Yin-Yang Eyes?

996 couldn’t have cared less. It rolled its eyes.

Music rose and fell in waves from the room.

Bo Chengyan frowned at the door and asked calmly, “How much longer?”

The Temple Master narrowed his eyes.

So concerned, he thought.

“It’s not even been five minutes yet.”

“What’s the rush?”

It was as if he’d seen right through him.

The Temple Master lowered his gaze thoughtfully. “You don’t need to worry too much. Everything has its cause and effect. He shares an affinity with you—it’ll come without you seeking it.”

“As for this talk of lost soul fragments, I don’t believe that’s the case. The boy has a solid temperament.”

996 crouched in its corner. Nonsense, it thought. Qi Jing crossed over whole and complete. Sure, there might’ve been some adjustment issues, but that was two years ago.

Who even soul transmigrates these days?

With all that double purity nonsense and original body baggage, the Main System deemed the risk too high.

It was outdated.

But just then—

The Temple Master glanced its way. 996 immediately squeezed its eyes shut and played dead.

“About that… thing.”

“Magical artifacts will suffice.”

The Temple Master seemed to recall something, his tone turning mild. “But that thing isn’t bad, either. It’s often a case of good intentions causing bad outcomes.”

“Most likely, it’s this boy’s own affinity at work.”

Right then, the instruments in the room fell silent.

It was over.

Sounds of commotion stirred from inside. Bo Chengyan hurried over at once. The youth on the prayer mat had slumped sideways.

One of the musicians propping up his shoulder couldn’t help but chuckle.

First time he’d ever seen someone fall asleep to it.

He’d listened to the Soul-Pacifying Melody without a single reaction—no panic, no fear.

Rare indeed.

Bo Chengyan reached out and scooped the young man into his arms. Qi Jing was still groggy. The moment he caught that familiar scent, he reached out to cling, eyes remaining firmly shut as he drifted off to sleep.

He didn’t seem to hold a grudge at all.

—Looks pretty good. Healthy and sound. No need to worry too much.

—But your father…

He vaguely caught those words.

After that, Qi Jing never fully woke. He only dimly felt a cool touch on his ankle, accompanied by the faint, distant chime of bells.

Very pleasant.

~~~

They were back home before noon, around ten o’clock.

Qi Jing woke in the bedroom. He realized he was being dressed—and that he was still clinging to Bo Chengyan.

Ding-a-ling…

An urgent jingle sounded.

The youth pushed at him with one hand, his eyes bright and dewy.

He was on the verge of getting mad.

But then his gaze was drawn to the thing on his wrist. Qi Jing froze. So pretty.

Was that a bracelet? It didn’t sag softly like one, though—almost like fine gold wire held it taut—and it wasn’t heavy at all.

The body gleamed pure gold, inlaid with brilliant emeralds encircled by diamonds that sparkled with fire.

Dazzling under the light.

Without thinking, the youth lifted his wrist to admire it, his expression utterly innocent.

Bo Chengyan lowered his eyes, fastened the youth’s waistband, and asked offhandedly, “Like it?”

Qi Jing was still nestled in his arms, his legs dangling idly across the bed. Only when another chime overlapped did he notice.

His ankle bore one too.

A matching set.

Four pieces in all.

“Good looking.”

It was crafted to the finest jewelry standards—even designed by an expert.

The gems and jade had been shipped in from Yunnan.

No straightforward gift would do; he’d had to coax him roundabout to get him to wear them.

The boy’s temper was growing ever milder.

Bo Chengyan scooped him up by the waist, shifted their position, and settled him onto his lap.

The youth was still admiring the jingly jewelry adorning him.

Curious, he asked, “Is this more expensive than that brooch you gave me?”

“How much did it cost?”

“Not expensive.”