Chapter 12

After “falling asleep” in the RV on the film set, Bai Chen opened his eyes to find himself atop Frost Mountain, gazing at Celestial Master Qiao’s back.

Celestial Master Qiao sat beside a small brazier, where a tiny flame burned steadily. But he wasn’t using it to warm the soup. Instead, a more delicate layer of heat emanated from his palm.

Bai Chen could tell at a glance that he was warming a bowl of Chicken Head Rice. In winter, one couldn’t drink cold soup, but fresh Chicken Head Rice was tender and wouldn’t taste good if overcooked. This was Celestial Master Qiao’s way of keeping it both hot and fresh.

The moment he opened his eyes, he felt the love.

Bai Chen called out happily, “Brother.”

Celestial Master Qiao turned his way at once. The porcelain bowl hovering above his palm settled steadily into his hand as he picked it up. “Slept well? This is Snow Pear Chicken Head Rice Soup from Old Liu. It’s still hot—want some?”

Without waiting for Bai Chen to reach out, Celestial Master Qiao brought a spoonful right to his lips. Bai Chen didn’t drink it. Instead, he pushed his arm aside a little and wrapped his arms around Celestial Master Qiao’s neck, pressing their faces together.

Celestial Master Qiao froze in the position where he’d been pushed back, momentarily stunned. The corners of his mouth twitched upward uncontrollably before he forced them down. “Xiao Li?”

Xiao Li was Bai Chen’s name on Frost Mountain—his full name, Qiao Qingli.

The day he had found Celestial Master Qiao, the man had asked him what his name was.

At the time, his face was bruised and swollen, and he looked utterly pitiful and bedraggled. “I’m Gou Dan,” he had said.

“…”

The next morning, Celestial Master Qiao gave him a name.

“Qiao Qingli,” he said. “Li, as in the dawn.”

Still clinging to his neck, the clingy little one said, “Brother, I missed you so much.”

“What nonsense,” Celestial Master Qiao replied, struggling to keep his voice from sounding too pleased. “You only slept for a bit. We saw each other this morning.”

“Even so, I missed Brother. Missed you so much.” Bai Chen insisted.

The Celestial Master, fierce in person and ruthless in words, couldn’t outtalk his little brother. He patted the boy on the back. “Get up and drink your soup first. It’ll get cold soon.”

Only then did Bai Chen release Celestial Master Qiao’s neck. He sat up on the toasty bed and opened his mouth for the spoonful of sweet soup that Celestial Master Qiao held to his lips.

Half a year ago, after Bai Chen had tracked down Celestial Master Qiao, the man had called in several doctors—not just to treat his external injuries. The doctors told him, “This child might have been born this way, or it could be due to later trauma. He has some intellectual impairments. He’s thirteen, but his mental age is around five or six. He’ll need someone to care for him around the clock.”

The doctors had only said he needed care, but Celestial Master Qiao seemed to interpret it as him being completely incapable of fending for himself. The man dressed him, combed his hair, and even brought soup right to his mouth.

“Is it good?” he asked.

Bai Chen nodded.

It was all right—not something he particularly loved.

Once all his wounds had fully healed, Celestial Master Qiao had taken him to Old Liu Farmhouse Cuisine on Frost Mountain Street for a meal.

For some reason that day, the entire little restaurant seemed wrapped in a joyful, warm atmosphere. The fragrant steam from the food wafted through the air, drifting past smiling faces and gentle eyes.

The owner watched them cheerfully from the register for a bit before heading to the kitchen. Soon, he brought out a bowl of Snow Pear Chicken Head Rice Soup just for Bai Chen.

Celestial Master Qiao was full of contradictions. He was immensely powerful, yet emotionally fragile and prone to breakdowns. He had an air of refined nobility, almost otherworldly, yet he adored meat.

That day’s table had been piled high with meat dishes. Bai Chen didn’t care much for meat—except for the bits Jiang Yuanmu fed him. Compared to the mountain of meat, he preferred sipping what looked like a light soup.

To his pleasant surprise, it was delightful. The owner had hand-peeled each piece of fresh Chicken Head Rice, and every one brimmed with care.

Bai Chen polished off that entire small bowl. The owner was thrilled, Celestial Master Qiao looked pleased—and relieved.

From then on, Old Liu sent over a small pot of Chicken Head Rice every single day without fail. Sometimes with snow pears, other times with white fungus and red dates, always topped with a sprinkle of fine yellow osmanthus.

Occasionally, he’d sneak in a bowl of chicken soup, but Bai Chen didn’t like it, so he gave it to his brother.

Most days, Celestial Master Qiao shared the Chicken Head Rice with him. “Brother, is it good?” he’d ask.

Celestial Master Qiao would gaze down at his little brother, who sat obediently by his side, looking up at him. It was a crisp autumn afternoon, with bright, soft sunlight falling on the boy’s vibrant face—so full of life, and bearing some resemblance to his own. Lowering his head, Celestial Master Qiao replied, “It’s good.”

Even the sweet soup without meat was delicious—the osmanthus was fragrant and sugary.

The little Celestial Masters had been right: sweets made people feel happy and content.

After drinking half a bowl in bed, Bai Chen pushed away the next spoonful Celestial Master Qiao offered and held it up to his brother’s mouth instead.

Once Celestial Master Qiao finished the rest, he said to Bai Chen, “Xiao Li, Brother has to go out for a few days. Do you want to come with me?”

Celestial Master Qiao loved having his little brother by his side—and taking him to Frost Mountain Street. Before, he’d always had meals delivered up the mountain. But ever since getting a little brother, whenever the weather was nice and the boy was in good spirits, he’d take him down for a meal.

A five- or six-year-old loved to play and craved excitement.

Besides, Celestial Master Qiao wanted others to see his little brother. He loved hearing people say how alike they looked, how handsome the boy was.

He hadn’t taken him anywhere farther yet.

One reason he’d accepted the film crew’s invitation this time was so he could take Xiao Li out to see the world.

“Where are we going?” Bai Chen asked.

“To a film set,” Celestial Master Qiao said. “A place where they make movies.”

Bai Chen went quiet for a few seconds. “A movie?”

Celestial Master Qiao fetched a tablet and pulled up promotional material for the Dark Blood crew. As his long fingers slid across the screen, they reached a poster featuring Bai Chen. Bai Chen grabbed his hand.

At that moment, Celestial Master Qiao still hadn’t realized anything was off.

Bai Chen hugged the tablet to his chest and snuggled against Celestial Master Qiao. “Thinking… Xiao Li’s thinking.”

Celestial Master Qiao said okay and asked what he wanted for dinner.

The weather had turned bitterly cold lately, so Celestial Master Qiao hadn’t been taking him to Frost Mountain Street much. All their proper meals, snacks, and toys came delivered from there, with the occasional dish prepared by the other Celestial Masters on the mountain.

Bai Chen listed a few dishes he wanted. Celestial Master Qiao went off to have them prepared.

Bai Chen sat on the bed hugging the tablet, lost in thought. He could tell Celestial Master Qiao wanted to go to the set—the Vascular Strangeness anomaly was no small matter to him. But if he went… and brought Bai Chen along… better not.

After mulling it over, Bai Chen hopped off the bed with the tablet in his arms and ran to the door to call out.

Celestial Master Qiao had always lived alone before and disliked having too many people around. When visitors piled up, he’d get annoyed and tell them to scram. But everything changed once he had a little brother. The shift was dramatic—from an introvert to an extrovert.

Not only were there more people on Frost Mountain now, and he welcomed visitors happily, but his courtyard even housed a few young Celestial Masters for days at a time. They were all relatively young, thoughtful, enthusiastic, and great at playing with kids.

Bai Chen’s shout brought smiles to the faces of the two little Celestial Masters in the courtyard. “Xiao Li’s awake!”

Bai Chen handed them the tablet, open to his own photo.

Lu Dong returned to Old Liu Farmhouse Cuisine with his insulated delivery bucket. “Boss, where to next?”

The owner nodded enthusiastically. “Great job, kid—your first day and you’re already this good. No more deliveries for now. Take a seat and rest. Once dinner’s ready, you can take it up to Celestial Master Qiao and Xiao Li.”

That was perfect.

It gave him another chance to get close to Celestial Master Qiao.

One of the two tasks from the Book Transmigration Bureau was to learn as much as possible about the four Apocalypse Bosses. For Team Three, that meant a deep dive on Celestial Master Qiao.

Today had been exhausting, but he’d discovered an incredible key to world salvation: when Celestial Master Qiao’s emotions grew unstable, just send over his little brother. Stability meant peace for the world.

The brother was the biggest new variable in his life—a pivotal figure.

Seated by the kitchen door, Lu Dong asked with perfectly reasonable curiosity, “Boss, I heard the Celestial Masters mentioning Xiao Li on Frost Mountain today too. That’s the third time I’ve heard the name. Xiao Li’s the Celestial Master’s little brother, right?”

“Yep.” The owner’s face lit up at the mere mention of Xiao Li. Lu Dong noticed the chicken he was stir-frying used only the tenderest leg meat—and he made nearly half a pot of it. “Xiao Li’s too skinny. He needs to eat more.”

Everyone who mentioned Xiao Li adored him. Even that recluse seemed eager for the boy to visit. Clearly, he was the beloved favorite of everyone on Frost Mountain.

It dawned on Lu Dong: he’d delivered the Snow Pear Chicken Head Rice Soup earlier because Xiao Li loved it. Nearly every restaurant and dessert shop on Frost Mountain Street advertised Chicken Head Rice—probably all because it was Xiao Li’s favorite!

“Everyone seems to love him. He must be adorable,” Lu Dong said.

“Adorable doesn’t even begin to cover it.” The owner beamed, pondering how to put it. With a sigh, he said, “It’s happiness. I just hope Xiao Li and Celestial Master Qiao can be that happy every day. If you saw them eating together, you’d feel it too—the pure happiness.”

Lu Dong believed him.

Energized, he grabbed the freshly made four dishes and soup and headed up Frost Mountain.

Of everywhere on Frost Mountain, he loved delivering to Celestial Master Qiao most. Not just because it meant more intel on him, but because the deliveries were so easy.

A wide road ran straight from the mountain’s base to Celestial Master Qiao’s courtyard gate—wide enough for two cars, let alone his little electric scooter. In under five minutes, the steaming meal was on Celestial Master Qiao’s table.

One of the little Celestial Masters told him he didn’t need to wait; he could return the dishes tomorrow with the next delivery. Lu Dong shook his head. “No problem, I can wait.”

At the door, he spotted the Xiao Li everyone talked about—no introduction needed. The boy bore a resemblance to Celestial Master Qiao. At twelve or thirteen, his features weren’t sharply gendered yet, giving him an androgynous beauty that dazzled the eye.

Just as the owner had said, Celestial Master Qiao seemed inexplicably serene when eating with his little brother. No one seeing him like that—seated beside the boy—would imagine a moody, ill-tempered man prone to meltdowns.

Lu Dong buzzed with anticipation for the happiness the owner had described.

When he got back, he’d tell his teammates. He’d tell Du Feili.

The pretty boy said, “Brother, Xiao Li’s not going to the film set.”

Celestial Master Qiao at the table didn’t seem quite so serene anymore, though his voice remained gentle. “All right.”

Then the boy pulled out a few photos and handed them over. They all showed the same strikingly handsome young man.

Celestial Master Qiao recognized him as the second male lead in Dark Blood. Puzzled, he asked, “What do you need his photos for?”

The boy ducked his head shyly, his ears turning bright red. In a small voice, he said, “I like him. Want his autograph. One he signs himself.”

In that instant, Lu Dong felt another layer of frost settle over Frost Mountain. The air grew cold and heavy, on the verge of freezing solid.

He clenched his teeth to stop them from chattering and looked toward Qiao Qingshuang, only to freeze in shock. Where was the aloof Celestial Master whom everyone on Frost Mountain revered with such awe? This was no celestial master at all—this was a vengeful strangeness, the kind teetering on the brink of collapse!

Each motion as he flipped through the photos seemed to etch deep cracks across the very foundation of Frost Mountain. “Hmm… Isn’t this just an ordinary person with two eyes and one nose?”