The so-called "system" in her mind openly acknowledged its identity. Perhaps now that things had reached their inevitable conclusion, there was no need to hide anything anymore—so it laid all its cards on the table.
Chu'he asked, "Ninth doesn’t know about your existence?"
"He doesn’t. Just like he doesn’t know that the last missing piece of his Seven-Aperture Exquisite Heart was filled in by me."
Chu'he realized, "So it was you who helped him back when he was thrown into the Gu Pool!"
Chi Yan smiled faintly. "You could say that."
A hundred years ago, as the young master of the Witch Sect, Chi Yan was hailed as a rare genius. He possessed an Exquisite Heart, a treasure unseen for centuries—one that allowed him to communicate with all living things. Even a grievously wounded person could be healed by consuming his heart.
Naturally, such a secret wasn’t something to be broadcasted to the world.
Back then, when Chi Yan fell into the Gu Pool, his flesh was devoured entirely by the venomous insects. Only a single fragment of his Exquisite Heart—clear as glass—remained untouched, impervious to the ravenous swarms.
That fragment lay dormant at the bottom of the pool, forgotten by the world, with no hope of ever being awakened again.
No one knew how much time passed before the cries of children disturbed its slumber. He sensed that someone was using these children for some purpose, but he was powerless to intervene.
Most children were too fragile. Thrown into the Gu Pool, they were torn apart before they could even begin to fight back.
The rare few who survived the ordeal and crawled out of the pool still couldn’t form a connection with him—because they lacked an Exquisite Heart.
Then, a hundred years later, another boy was thrown into the pool.
His will to survive was extraordinary. Even when his strength failed, he would bite back at the insects gnawing at his flesh, tearing them apart and swallowing them whole.
He was human, yet more savage than a beast.
The Gu Pool shredded his body, but his crimson eyes burned with defiance, refusing to yield.
Eventually, it became unclear who was consuming whom. Though his body was broken, he used the devoured Gu insects to twist and reform himself, piece by piece.
The child’s small Exquisite Heart remained pristine amidst the blood and filth—radiant and untainted.
The brutal struggle within the Gu Pool had birthed a second Exquisite Heart in this world.
But there was a flaw. He only knew how to consume, not how to master his heart. A piece was missing, and without it, his painstakingly reconstructed body would slowly unravel back into monstrosity.
So, the fragment at the bottom of the pool understood its fate—it became the final piece, completing the Exquisite Heart.
In a way, he had merged with Ninth’s body.
Chu'he’s expression shifted. "Then… everything I’ve said or done with Ninth—you know all of it?"
If Chi Yan confirmed it, he suspected Chu'he would brand him a pervert.
He replied, "You don’t need to worry. My opportunities to emerge are limited, and I have no interest in spying."
"Then who was it that secretly followed a certain girl a hundred years ago, watching her every move?"
Chi Yan: "…"
Chu'he shifted stiffly, pulling a corner of the blanket over herself and the boy beside her.
Ninth’s eyes cracked open slightly, revealing a hazy crimson glow beneath drowsy lashes.
Chu'he kissed the corner of his lips.
Still half-asleep, he instinctively smiled, pulling her tighter against him. He curled around her, resting his chin atop her head, and drifted back into peaceful slumber.
Chi Yan had never understood the concept of a safe harbor. He never sought shelter—he was a solitary fortress, unbreakable on his own.
But after becoming Ninth, something in him changed.
He’d wake up clinging to her sleeve, refusing to let go. On rainy days, he’d silently close the distance between them to share an umbrella. Even after rescuing someone with little enthusiasm, he’d soften, resting his head on her shoulder and murmuring, "I’m tired," just to earn a bit of comfort.
Turns out, he was a "weakling" who needed Chu'he to survive. The dependency he’d suppressed for half a lifetime finally found a place to flourish—with her.
Chi Yan remarked, "I’m still here, you know."
"Since I don’t know how much you’ve already seen, I might as well let you watch."
Chi Yan was speechless again.
Curled in Ninth’s arms, Chu'he toyed with a strand of his white braid and asked silently, "Why did you pretend to be a 'system,' making me complete some world-saving mission?"
Chi Yan chuckled softly. "Long ago, I heard a peculiar story from her. She said my world might have originally been a book."
Chu'he stiffened. "Miss Xue told you about transmigrating into a novel?!"
Chi Yan’s voice was quiet. "Yes."
The night before she leaped into the Gu Pool, she sat with him beneath the stars, talking endlessly. Stories he found bizarre spilled from her lips.
Back then, she’d framed transmigration as just a tale—never admitting it was her own. Only after she entered the Gu Pool without him did he realize the truth.
"Books, worlds, systems… For a hundred years at the bottom of that pool, I pondered her words."
"She said the book’s plot was predetermined—that someone had to be sacrificed to quell the Gu Pool a century later."
"But she also believed the story could be changed."
"Eventually, I understood what she meant."
The book claimed the Miaojiang young master would be the one to jump into the pool. To alter fate, she took his place.
Yet in the end, events unfolded as written.
Chi Yan spoke slowly. "That night, she talked until dawn. When she finally fell asleep in my arms, I carried her back and met Master Su of the Red Pavilion."
The woman stood in the morning mist, her eyes veiled by a white ribbon, her figure frail yet indomitable.
Her silent guardian remained at her side, ever-present.
She said, "A hundred years from now, a girl from the Central Plains will fall into Miaojiang’s Medicine Man Pit. Seize that chance—she is the key to breaking the cycle."
At the time, Chi Yan thought this cryptic woman absurd. A century later, he’d be long dead—how could he seize anything?
