Chapter 59
Deep down, Gu Wenzhu had already begun to believe Jie Shang. Ever since he laid eyes on him, fragmented images had started to flash through his mind.
In those images, Jie Shang gazed at him with tenderness, and Gu Wenzhu could feel a deep sense of calm and contentment.
And then Jie Shang pointed out the mark behind his ear, calling it the soul-protecting mark.
Gu Wenzhu vaguely remembered falling gravely ill as a child, feverish to the point of unconsciousness.
His father had been in a panic, desperately forcing him to drink herbal medicine from the village healer, wiping his body with a wet cloth.
In his half-conscious state, Gu Wenzhu felt lighter and lighter until his body seemed to float, drifting up into the air.
He had even seen his own body, lying motionless on the bed with his eyes closed.
Meanwhile, his father was frantically wringing out the wet cloth and wiping his back.
Just as he was about to float out of the window, he saw a glowing mark behind his ear, the blue birthmark lighting up with an unfamiliar pattern.
Then, a powerful force pulled him back into his body.
Could this be the soul-protecting mark that Jie Shang mentioned, activating to keep his soul from drifting away?
Gu Wenzhu’s mind was in turmoil, a tangled mess of emotions he couldn’t begin to untangle.
Being told by a stranger that the parents who loved him weren’t his biological parents, and that this stranger was his real father — how could anyone accept such news?
Xia Yi, though equally shocked, maintained a calm outward appearance.
He quietly observed Jie Shang in front of him, gripping Gu Wenzhu’s hand tightly and feeling a cold dampness.
In his mind, the system screamed repeatedly.
“Host, it turns out Gu Wenzhu isn’t from the farming world. He actually has biological parents here. What’s going on with his parents back there?”
“Host, you’re now the crown princess of the demon realm!”
“Host, I have a terrible guess, Cang Yi—”
“Shut up,” Xia Yi cut off 179 viciously. “One more word, and I’ll file a complaint against you.”
Jie Shang gazed at Gu Wenzhu eagerly, anxious to prove that he was Zeyuan. “Back then, I was injured by the Grand Elder of the demon realm and was in seclusion. By the time I heard that you went to Yulu Mountain and rushed there, it was already too late…”
“Zeyuan, you are indeed Jie Shang’s son,” Cang Yi’s voice suddenly sounded from the side.
He took a deep breath, as if making a tough decision.
“I am also your biological father.”
At this, the entire square fell into dead silence.
A sword slipped from a disciple’s hand, clanging as it hit the ground, the metallic sound echoing sharply, yet no one snapped out of it or closed their gaping mouths.
Only 179 was excitedly shouting in Xia Yi’s mind, “I wasn’t wrong, was I? See, I wasn’t wrong! And you told me to shut up!”
Xia Yi held Gu Wenzhu’s hand tightly, though his expression remained calm, his heart was in turmoil.
“For centuries, immortals and demons have always been opposed. It was my adherence to outdated rules that made me abandon you two all these years,” Cang Yi’s voice was slightly hoarse, and everyone in the square heard it clearly.
“And I, myself, have been tormented by longing and guilt, never finding peace for even a single day.”
“These years of seclusion have allowed me to unravel my inner conflicts and understand a few things—”
Xia Yi noticed that while Cang Yi’s lips were still moving and his expression was no longer as calm as before, the sound suddenly stopped reaching his ears, as if Cang Yi was now performing a silent pantomime.
What had he realized? Speak up, don’t just mouth the words without sound.
No, something was wrong—it wasn’t that Cang Yi wasn’t speaking.
They were about to time travel again!
Xia Yi quickly looked around and, sure enough, the air began to ripple, and the surrounding scene wavered like water.
“179, it looks like we’re about to travel again!”
“Yes, host, hurry and wave goodbye to your father- and mother-in-law.”
Gu Wenzhu also noticed something unusual but was unable to speak or move.
He could only watch as the expressions of Jie Shang and Cang Yi grew increasingly shocked, both reaching out to grab him, but their hands grasped nothing.
Even the large Qilin, who had been lying on the ground, leaped up, letting out a long, anxious roar.
Gu Wenzhu calmed himself and tightened his grip on Xia Yi’s hand. A whirlwind of spinning sky and earth enveloped them, sweeping them into a vortex of time.
When the surroundings settled and the spinning ceased, Xia Yi heard a few dog barks, and he slowly opened his eyes.
He saw the red wedding decorations on the windows, the burnt-out dragon and phoenix candles on the table, and the pieces of furniture that Gu Wenzhu had crafted by hand. Xia Yi let out a slow breath.
They were back home.
Qilin had transformed back into its dog form and was now running anxiously in circles around him, seemingly perplexed by the change in the scene and the absence of its father, Dahei.
Gu Wenzhu still stood there, holding Xia Yi’s hand, his expression dazed, clearly not yet recovered from the earlier events.
Xia Yi gently called out, “Brother Zhu?”
Gu Wenzhu finally snapped out of his daze, looked around, and gave Xia Yi a somewhat bewildered look. “We’re back?”
Xia Yi nodded.
Looking around, the house still bore the traces of their wedding night before they had traveled, except now everything was coated in a layer of dust.
“Xiao Yi, those two—” Gu Wenzhu looked at Xia Yi, words faltering, unsure where to begin.
“It’s probably almost evening. I’ll go make us something to eat.” After a moment of confusion, Gu Wenzhu regained his composure and hurried towards the kitchen.
Xia Yi knew Gu Wenzhu needed some time alone to sort out his thoughts, so he didn’t follow.
He watched Gu Wenzhu disappear into the kitchen, then knelt down to stroke Qilin’s large head, softly saying, “Don’t worry, little one. We’ll go back someday, and you’ll see your qilin-dad again.”
“Though I’m just your adoptive father, that was your real dad, wasn’t it?”
Qilin didn’t respond but licked Xia Yi’s hand, calming down and ceasing its anxious pacing.
Not long after, dinner was ready. The two sat across from each other in silence, eating.
Xia Yi kept stealing glances at Gu Wenzhu, who remained calm, as if nothing had happened.
But after too many glances, Gu Wenzhu tapped his bowl with his chopsticks. “Focus on eating.”
Unable to hold back any longer, Xia Yi put down his chopsticks. “Brother Zhu, what are you thinking?”
Gu Wenzhu continued eating in silence.
Just when Xia Yi thought he wouldn’t respond, Gu Wenzhu swallowed his food and suddenly said, “I don’t know them. My parents are Gu Dash and Li Xiu’er.”
Then he placed a piece of tofu in Xia Yi’s bowl. “Eat, don’t overthink.”
Xia Yi nodded and picked up his chopsticks again, eating with gusto.
At that moment, the courtyard door creaked open, and someone stuck their head in.
Seeing the two eating, Qi Zhou entered, visibly relieved. “You’re finally back. Where on earth have you been all this time? Did you go to Qishan?”
“Uncle Wang’s been asking about you every day. I told him you went back to Xia Shidi’s hometown. You were gone so long, I was at a loss for words.”
Qi Zhou complained loudly, “Shifu was just talking to me when he suddenly vanished, leaving me all alone here.” His eyes reddened as he recalled last night’s event. If he had truly been left behind in this farming world, he had no idea what he would have done.
“Elder Meng has returned?” Xia Yi asked.
“Yes, he turned into specks of light and disappeared,” Qi Zhou replied, standing in the courtyard, still looking a bit shaken.
“I saw him disappear and thought you might have come back, so I came over to check. Thankfully, you’re back.”
Seeing his anxious expression, Xia Yi reassured him, “Don’t worry, you’ll return eventually too.”
“Have you eaten?” Xia Yi asked.
Since Meng Wanzi had already returned, this immortal cultivator who didn’t eat mortal food, Qi Zhou, might end up starving. Xia Yi thought he should invite him to eat at their house from now on.
“I’ve eaten,” Qi Zhou absentmindedly replied. “Gu Beicheng cooked for me.”
Xia Yi nodded. As long as he wasn’t starving, it was fine.
That evening, Xia Yi lay quietly beside Gu Wenzhu, his face pressed against Gu’s chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. Neither of them spoke.
After a while, Gu Wenzhu softly began to speak, his voice low and rumbling as if it came from deep within his chest.
“When I was a child, my family was very poor. During the New Year, I saw the village children eating malt sugar, but I didn’t dare ask my father for any. My stepmother was also in poor health, and aside from food, all the money went to buying her medicine.”
“But that day, when I came home, my father pulled out a piece of candy from behind his back and gave it to me.”
“I still remember the taste of that candy. It was incredibly sweet. I offered it to my father, but he didn’t eat it. I gave it to my stepmother, but she also shook her head. The two of them just smiled at me…”
Gu Wenzhu suddenly stopped speaking, taking several deep breaths and turning his head to gaze out the window into the darkness.
A cherished memory from so many years ago, now that he was recounting it, seemed like a poorly told story.
After a long pause, he calmed down and said in a neutral tone, “They would never abandon me—except for death.”
“Gu Dash and Liu Xiu’er are my real parents. I don’t have any others.”
Xia Yi, eyes closed, lay motionless against his chest. After a moment, he reached out in the darkness, gently stroking Gu Wenzhu’s face.
His warm, soft fingers traced the sharp contours of Gu’s face, filled with tenderness and care.
Gu Wenzhu leaned into the touch, pressing tightly against the delicate palm.
His heart was filled with confusion, bitterness, and perhaps a deep fear of something else.
The next day, when Xia Yi woke up, he was surprised to find he had slept until noon.
Gu Wenzhu had already left, but there was still warm porridge and buns waiting for him in the kitchen.
“179, why didn’t you wake me up? I slept until this late,” Xia Yi said, slightly annoyed.
“I tried waking you several times! I even played marching music in your head, but you didn’t react at all. Host, you sleep too soundly,” 179 exclaimed, feeling wronged.
“Really? My bad, I must be physically weak lately. I need to exercise more.”
Xia Yi devoured the porridge and buns as he listened to 179 deliver his next mission.
“Host, your lettuce ripened on your wedding day, and that mission is complete. You’ve been idle for so long; it’s time to take on a new mission and farm properly.”
Slurping a spoonful of porridge, Xia Yi said, “Hurry up and assign it. Don’t delay me from eating. Afterward, I need to harvest that lettuce from the field.”
“Host, please accept your new mission:
[Mission Introduction: Rescue the Qishan Sect leader and all disciples who were kidnapped.]
[Completion: 0/1**]
[Mission reward—]
Suddenly, the system cut off, as if it had malfunctioned.
“179?” Xia Yi asked, confused when the system didn’t continue. “179, are you there?”
After a moment, 179’s robotic voice finally responded, “I’m here.”
“What happened just now? Why did you stop speaking?” Xia Yi asked.
“Nothing,” 179 replied, its voice now hesitant.
“What’s going on? Is there something wrong with the mission reward?” Xia Yi grew suspicious of 179’s tone.
179’s voice wavered, “Nothing, host, don’t overthink it.”
“Then explain clearly: what is the mission reward?”
“The reward is just an ordinary gift box with some pills inside, nothing special. It’s the same as before,” 179 answered, returning to a more normal tone.
“Is that so?” Xia Yi still sounded a bit doubtful.
“Yes,” 179 replied firmly, sounding serious.
Alright, this system may be lousy, but it had never lied before.
Seeing that Xia Yi didn’t press further, 179 sighed in relief.
“By the way, you haven’t told me what to plant for this mission,” Xia Yi asked.
“You can plant whatever you want, it doesn’t matter,” 179 responded carelessly.
“Whatever I want?” Xia Yi was stunned.
It was the first time he had seen 179 being so irresponsible about its core job, not even bothering to assign a proper task.
“179, can I plant cotton candy?” Xia Yi asked, testing him.
“Sure,” 179 answered.
“How about ice cream? Or the sun?” Xia Yi teased again.
“Go ahead.”
“Are you even listening to me?” Xia Yi finally raised his voice at the system.
How could he plant “whatever”? That’s too vague!
“Then just plant carrots,” 179 finally suggested after thinking it over.
“Fine, carrots it is.”
After finishing his meal, Xia Yi grabbed a hoe and headed to the field, greeting villagers along the way.
“Xiao Yi, back from your maternal’s family, eh?”
“We haven’t seen you or Wenzhu these past few days. We knew you’d returned late at night, but for a while, some folks thought you’d been snatched by mountain spirits or wild beasts, haha.”
… ‘Maternal’s family.’
Alright then.
“Alright, maternal’s family it is.”
When Xia Yi reached the edge of the field, he took a deep breath of fresh air.
The smell of moist soil and fresh melon leaves felt so familiar and comforting. He almost wanted to roll up his sleeves and dig for three days straight.
Satisfying.
