◎Ji Qinghong x Yun Sulü◎
Years later, when Ji Qinghong looked back, he realized how prophetic those words had been.
He had indeed obtained the finest rare flame in the world—so exceptional that even the temptation of the Crow’s Cry Flame couldn’t sway him. But it had come at a cost.
Along with the unending flames of passion came hair turned the color of frost, and a temperament grown increasingly unpredictable after he embraced the Path of Emotionless Ascension.
Ji Qinghong had once believed that the fire born from his heart would burn ceaselessly until his soul was extinguished.
Yet three thousand years passed in the blink of an eye, and now, against all expectations, he had received such astonishingly good news.
...
Since Chang Lili’s "Body Cultivation Project" had yet to be fully realized, the souls residing within the Moonfall Trees still had to temporarily inhabit Worlds United in the form of "players."
After obtaining a pass from Yan Luoyue, Ji Qinghong successfully secured access to Worlds United.
When his spirit traveled through the sprawling branches of the towering emerald tree and he opened his eyes once more, Ji Qinghong raised an eyebrow in mild surprise.
At the beginner’s village spawn point, aside from himself, a few scattered "Level 1 newbies" had just registered.
The female characters fared slightly better, clad in simple tan linen robes. As for the male characters, they were as destitute as slaves, wearing nothing but ragged yellow loincloths for modesty.
Ji Qinghong: "..."
Many times, he had wanted to ask if his disciple had a peculiar fondness for watching people start from nothing.
Compared to these pitiful Level 1 newbies, Ji Qinghong was in an entirely different league. His robes were immaculate, and he had even taken care to dress up before entering. The silver-white cloud embroidery on his lapels and wide sleeves accentuated his extraordinary elegance.
His attire immediately drew gasps from the other players.
"Damn, friend! I’ve been doing quests in this starter village for ages, but this is the first time I’ve seen someone spawn in with outside clothes. How’d you pull that off? Did your mom weld this outfit onto you in the womb?!"
Ji Qinghong: "..."
Ji Qinghong smiled amiably at the bearded player with eyes as wide as brass bells and, with remarkable gentleness, reached out to pat the back of his head.
Hmm, no dents. Perhaps the problem was inside the skull?
Still, this answered a question that had long puzzled Ji Qinghong: So this was the environment in which Yan Luoyue had grown up all these years.
Studying the bearded man with amusement, Ji Qinghong’s smile deepened. No wonder his little disciple had turned out the way she did.
The bearded man didn’t linger on idle chatter—he had his own quests to complete while squatting at the spawn point.
Under his guidance, the freshly spawned Level 1 newbies obediently reported to the tutorial NPCs to take on introductory tasks like "chopping firewood," "fetching water," and "watering crops."
These quests were designed to help them regain control of their limbs. As they completed each task, the disoriented newbies gradually adjusted to their virtual bodies.
Ji Qinghong twirled a branch tucked in his sleeve—he had no need for such rudimentary tasks.
After all, he was a player with connections. Nestled in his sleeve was a branch as dark as ink, adorned with a cluster of jade-green, crystalline leaves.
Casually, Ji Qinghong began gathering intel from the bearded man.
This unique world, built within the Moonfall Trees, had many distinctive features.
However, Ji Qinghong had played games crafted by Yan Luoyue before.
Thus, many mechanics in Worlds United felt familiar, and he quickly adapted with minimal effort.
Whether by coincidence or deliberate favoritism from the system, he had been placed in the nearest beginner’s village. After patiently enduring the bearded man’s rambling, Ji Qinghong soon extracted the information he needed.
"You said Yun Sulü will appear at the Shangyuan Pavilion in the upcoming artifact auction?"
The bearded man shot Ji Qinghong a reproachful look. "How can you call her by name like that? You should address her as Master Yun."
Ji Qinghong’s smile widened. "You’re right. I should be more respectful—Shizun Yun would be more fitting."
The bearded man gaped at him. "Wrong again! Brother, your slip-ups are wilder than a rabbit’s split lip. Master Yun may guide juniors, but she never takes disciples. If you barge in calling her Shizun, it’d be like forcing her to adopt you—how presumptuous!"
This bearded fellow was truly a character, his words flowing as freely as a galloping horse—and eerily prophetic, as if blessed by divine insight.
Unaware that he had inadvertently stumbled upon the truth, and even less aware that he had nearly offended the one rabbit in the cultivation world best left unprovoked, the bearded man chuckled heartily at his own wit.
Amid his booming laughter, Ji Qinghong remained silent, smiling faintly as he raised a hand. In an instant, a blade of wind sliced off a tuft of the man’s fluffy beard.
The bearded man yelped. "Bro, why’d you pluck my beard?"
Ji Qinghong smiled. "Such a peculiar crafting material is hard to come by. Perhaps I can refine it into a ticket to the auction."
Rubbing the bare patch on his chin, the bearded man asked, "My beard can be used for crafting? What are you planning to make?"
Ji Qinghong feigned contemplation before answering leisurely, "Perhaps... a Disaster Born from Loose Lips."
Bearded Man: "???"
...
Ever since hearing that "Master Yun never takes disciples," Ji Qinghong’s mood had visibly improved.
This good cheer wasn’t just reflected in his expression—it even influenced his actions.
Under normal circumstances, encountering a blunt yet cheerful fellow like the bearded man—one who didn’t know his identity—Ji Qinghong would have happily dragged him along for some "fun."
But now, Ji Qinghong’s heart raced with urgency.
Suppressing his usual mischief, he truly used the plucked beard as a base to craft an artifact named Disaster Born from Loose Lips on the spot.
Witnessing Ji Qinghong summon a flame mid-crafting, the bearded man couldn’t help but marvel.
"Damn, you even brought your own fire? I’ve never seen a Level 1 newbie like you. Are you some max-level expert slumming it for laughs?"
Ji Qinghong, still in high spirits, replied mildly, "Oh? Does my flame look like a max-level expert’s to you?"
The bearded man scrutinized the flickering fire and hesitantly shook his head.
"Strange... no offense, brother, but your flame... it’s kinda tiny."
Compared to those renowned exotic flames, or even the mass-produced ordinary flames from "All Realms United," Ji Qinghong's little flame appeared far too insignificant.
Ji Qinghong smiled warmly. "No worries, it’ll grow even smaller."
What had once been a blazing inferno capable of burning for three thousand years without extinguishing—
Until Ji Qinghong received news of that person. Then, three millennia of ruthless cultivation could be allowed to crumble into oblivion, letting this passion-flame transform into gentle rain, seeping back into a heart long shut away.
The artifact "Trouble from the Mouth" took the form of a handheld megaphone.
Around its rim, Ji Qinghong had meticulously crafted a beard, turning the device into something resembling a fuzzy coconut.
Pulling the handle triggered the megaphone to generate bizarre, florid phrases, drawing bewildered stares from onlookers—earning it the title of the cultivation world’s first "nonsense generator."
Upon hearing the line, "Talismans cause premature aging, alchemy makes dogs bald, and squirrels and crickets dancing smell like soybeans," the bearded man burst into raucous laughter.
"This is incredible! How did you even forge this thing?"
Ji Qinghong patiently explained, "Among the base materials, besides your beard, I added a bit of my disciple’s brain."
The tip of a branch hidden in his sleeve bore a jade-green leaf, half of which had been snipped off at some point.
Well, trees generally grow with their crowns upward and roots downward. So, logically, the leaves of a giant tree could be considered part of its brain, right?
The bearded man: "???"
What the—? Is your disciple’s true form a lump of brain matter?!
Amid the nonsensical output, a rare coherent sentence stood out starkly. Soon, the megaphone began broadcasting Ji Qinghong’s whereabouts at a rate of once every three phrases.
"Master Yun Sulü, your disciple is currently over a hundred zhang away from the auction house. Please retrieve them promptly."
"Master Yun Sulü, your disciple is now walking toward you. Please prepare for delivery."
"Master Yun Sulü, your disciple is less than ten zhang from the auction house. Are you feeling pleasantly surprised yet?"
The bearded man paled. "Brother, didn’t I warn you not to provoke Master Yun like this?!"
Ji Qinghong, ever amiable, patiently clarified, "You see, the materials came from you, correct?"
"...Y-yes?"
"Therefore, the one offending Master Yun is you, not me."
The bearded man: "!!!"
Wait—that’s how the logic works?!
And it’s guilt by association too?!
No wonder this thing is called "Trouble from the Mouth"!!!
Under the bearded man’s stunned and horrified gaze, someone finally pushed open the auction house’s loft window, revealing Master Yun’s snow-pure, radiant face.
Her wise, usually serene eyes were anything but calm now.
Those familiar with Master Yun would recognize the expression on her face—a mix of exasperation, amusement, and the quiet joy of long-awaited reunion.
Ji Qinghong laughed heartily.
Had anyone from the cultivation world witnessed this, they’d have been shocked: in three thousand years, no one had ever seen Ji Qinghong wear such a carefree, unguarded smile. It was terrifying!
But neither the smiler nor the one smiled at thought so.
Ji Qinghong pressed the remaining half-leaf into the bearded man’s palm as thanks, then soared into the air, his figure arcing gracefully through the window before shutting the carved lattice behind him.
The "Trouble from the Mouth" megaphone, as if gifted with clairvoyance, blared one last announcement:
"Master Yun Sulü, your disciple has been packaged and delivered to your window. How about giving those soft bunny ears another tug?"
—Discarding the boundaries of passion and detachment, bridging the chasm between life and death, Ji Qinghong had spruced himself up and arrived at her doorstep.
Now, the window framed the silhouettes of two perfectly matched figures, while hushed murmurs slipped through the cracks.
One voice feigned annoyance, though laughter bubbled beneath.
"Have you not heard? I never take disciples."
The other voice was languid, slightly muffled, as if its owner were preoccupied.
"I have—but my master once left me a prophecy."
"She told me to become capable of anything."
Then, all secrets—the fervent, the intimate, the things that would set tongues wagging—were sealed firmly behind the window, not a whisper escaping.
...
Ji Qinghong held Yun Sulü close, lifting a finger.
A wisp of flame flickered weakly on his pale, slender fingertip before the last ember retreated into his meridians, leaving only a wisp of smoke curling in the air.
Thus, the passion-flame was fully reclaimed, the path of detachment shattered.
This flame had once been the finest in the world.
But from this day forth, every shared starlight, every moment woven together, would outshine all exotic flames combined.
Yun Sulü watched the flame’s demise with deep emotion. Though she’d glimpsed but a fragment, it was as if she’d traversed Ji Qinghong’s three-thousand-year journey of solitude in the cracks of time.
A thousand words rose to her throat, yet all condensed into a single radiant smile.
"After we leave," she said softly, "let’s find a better one."
Ji Qinghong pondered briefly, then smirked—an expression eerily reminiscent of his old troublemaking self.
"No need," he said airily. "After we leave, we’ll extort three from our disciple—one for you, one for me, and one to light candles with. We’ll blow it out for fun."
