Little Pink Starfish

Qi Guanrui followed behind Gu Bai with a bright smile, but the strange feeling in his heart grew stronger.

The longer he knew Ziche Shubai, the more he felt that beneath his expressionless face, something unknown was hidden. And if he ever uncovered it, his entire world might be overturned.

He had always been someone with a strong need for control, unwilling to let anything escape his grasp. Yet Ziche Shubai was the one person he refused to use “those methods” on, making life suddenly feel much more interesting.

This feeling… he found it irresistible.

To explore Ziche Shubai, to invade and control him without using external force… if he could succeed, he would feel an immense sense of satisfaction.

Qi Guanrui suppressed his growing urges and licked his lips.

Yes, in every sense of the word.

He would have him, completely.

Gu Bai shivered.

…Is it too cold in this cave? But that shouldn’t affect my martial physique.

He thought for a moment. Could it be that the empty-handed girl is secretly cursing me out of spite?

Feeling a bit awkward, he decided to ignore it.

When they stepped out of the stone door, the girl who had “taken the blame” happened to emerge as well, her delicate face filled with dejection and grievance.

Gu Bai mentally lit a candle for her but, without a hint of guilt, simply said, “Let’s go.”

Qin Jiao glanced at the other two stone doors, hesitated, but quickly realized that these two men had zero sympathy. She swiftly adjusted her expression, returning to her usual pragmatic and resilient self. “Then let’s be on our way.”

The instructions for leaving were carved on the stone monument. Following them precisely, the three were soon swept up by a gust of wind—

And in the next moment, they reappeared on the mountaintop.

After escorting Qin Jiao down to the foot of the mountain, Gu Bai announced, “We’re heading back.”

Qi Guanrui was surprised. “Eh?”

Gu Bai remained expressionless. “We’ll come back another time.”

With this much bad luck, who would want to stay here longer? What if something worse happens? Time to go home!

Qi Guanrui, ever the obedient one, replied, “Okay, gege.”

And so, the two of them departed.

That night, Qi Guanrui exhaled lightly, drugged Gu Bai into a deep sleep, shook out his robes, and quietly slipped back into the mountains.

To be honest, he usually followed orders well—but he also loved working in the shadows.

Gu Bai’s excuse was reasonable enough, but it didn’t align with his interests.

And besides, Qi Guanrui was not the charitable type. ╮(╯▽╰)╭

Following the same path as before, he swiftly returned to the cave.

—At this point, it’s worth mentioning that Qi Guanrui also had a spatial storage item, though its capacity was far smaller than Gu Bai’s storage bracelet.

But right now, it was perfect for stashing away some private wealth.

Upon entering the cave, Qi Guanrui reviewed the inscriptions on the stone monument to ensure he hadn’t missed anything. Then, he pushed open the first stone door.

Who cares about Qian Kun Ren’s tragic, heartbreaking love story? Securing the inheritance is what matters.

It must be said—Qi Guanrui’s protagonist-level luck was still shining bright.

As soon as the door opened, a vast stone chamber came into view. On either side stood long tables, while a dozen large chests were stacked in the corners.

The tables were covered with potted plants—all rare medicinal herbs, carefully cultivated for years. Most were at peak maturity, ready to be harvested and sold for a fortune. If not sold, they could be used to refine medicinal baths for body strengthening.

Qi Guanrui strode forward, swiftly and ruthlessly plundering. He first picked the ripe fruits, then with a grand sweep, stored both the herbs and their pots into his storage ring.

Next, he eagerly flung open the chests—

And was nearly blinded by the sheer brilliance inside.

They were overflowing with gold, precious minerals, and rare materials for crafting weapons, all glimmering dazzlingly.

Without hesitation, Qi Guanrui took everything.

With the major loot gone, previously concealed items in the room became visible—

For instance, behind the long tables stood smaller tables, atop which sat small chests.

Inside these were exquisite women’s hairpins and jewelry crafted from rare gemstones, countless delicate trinkets, and stacks upon stacks of martial arts manuals.

But the most valuable find was the collection of personal notes left by the martial emperor himself.

Naturally, Qi Guanrui took everything.

Once the chamber was stripped bare, he scanned the walls, knocking on them methodically.

This is a martial emperor’s domain—surely there’s a hidden chamber somewhere?

Sure enough, after some probing… a secret chamber opened.

Instantly, a sweet, intoxicating fragrance filled the air.

Qi Guanrui held his breath.

Inside, a massive black tree stretched several meters high, its branches covered in clusters of pink, intertwined spiritual mushrooms—shaped exactly like a pair of entwined mandarin ducks.

These mushrooms had an oddly alluring quality.

Having received a bloodline inheritance, Qi Guanrui quickly recognized them.

Yuan Yang Zhi… this is a rare treasure.

He raised an eyebrow and took them all.

Even if he couldn’t use them now, they would surely come in handy someday.

After thoroughly looting the first chamber, Qi Guanrui finally confirmed that nothing was left. He then exited through the door.

The second chamber—he had already seen it. Aside from the flower field, there was nothing of value. But since Ziche Shubai seemed to like the scenery, it was best to keep others out…

With that in mind, Qi Guanrui decisively exhaled a cloud of toxic mist onto the second door.

Unlike the mist he used to make Gu Bai sleep, this one was deadly. It wouldn’t harm the door itself, but anyone who dared push it open…

Well, they’d soon find themselves melting into a puddle of pus.

It wouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes.

Finally, Qi Guanrui moved to the third door. The chamber was full of traps, but he simply shifted into his serpent form and slithered through, effortlessly dismantling every last one.

In the process, he found a nest of dead eggs.

After inspecting them carefully, he discovered one that was still alive.

Biting his finger, he dripped a drop of blood onto the egg to sustain it, then stored it away, allowing it to hatch on its own.

In summary—after thoroughly looting all three chambers, not even a speck of dust remained.

Tonight’s haul was massive. Qi Guanrui was extremely pleased.

Ziche Shubai’s behavior still perplexed him, but in the end, possession was what truly mattered.

Satisfied with his fortune, Qi Guanrui cheerfully left the cave, eager to return and snuggle up to his gege.

However, before he could take more than a few steps, a shadow streaked across his path with a swift whoosh.

Qi Guanrui sniffed the air.

The scent of blood… human blood…

His hunger stirred.

His interest was piqued.

Shifting into a distorted snake-like form, he swiftly pursued.

Within moments, he had caught up to the fleeing shadow.

It was indeed a person—but a particularly savage-looking one.

An aura of malevolence clung to him, vastly different from that of an ordinary martial artist. Even his eyes glowed an eerie, piercing red.

There was only one kind of person in the world who looked like this.

A demon.

But demons were supposed to reside in the Demon Realm—why was one here in these mountains?

—Especially near Qingtian Academy, the continent’s most prestigious martial school, where only the finest warriors were trained? Martial artists and demons were sworn enemies.

Qi Guanrui’s smile deepened. In a gentle voice, he murmured, “Interesting.”

He trailed the demon for several hundred miles until they reached a faintly glowing campsite.

A hunter’s tent stood there, with an older man keeping watch—clearly not a student of the academy.

The demon’s blood-red eyes gleamed in the dark. He seemed composed, but the slow grinding of his heels against the earth betrayed his struggle to hold himself back. If he didn’t act soon, he wouldn’t be able to resist any longer.

Qi Guanrui studied him carefully, narrowing his eyes.

Even though demons underwent some transformation, their facial structure remained mostly unchanged…

And this one looked familiar.

The demon hesitated for a moment before finally lunging forward.

Like a lone wolf that had been waiting for its chance, he pounced in an instant, grabbing the watchman by the throat.

—Yet he didn’t snap the neck outright. Instead, with a precise amount of pressure, he silenced him instantly, cutting off his breath.

Then, he bit down.

Sinking his teeth into the fresh corpse, he greedily sucked out the warm, crimson blood.

His other hand plunged into the man’s chest, fingers tearing through flesh until he extracted a still-warm, barely-stilled heart.

Without hesitation, he devoured it in just a few bites.

Even after finishing, he seemed unsatisfied. Moving toward the tent, he slipped inside without making a sound.

Moments later, the three sleeping figures inside met the same fate—silently slaughtered, their hearts devoured, their blood drained dry.

Under normal circumstances, he would have feasted on every last piece of flesh. But time was short, and he feared being discovered. He had to be quick.

Still, the heart was the essence of blood, and blood was the foundation of a martial artist’s power. He made do with what he could.

At last, seemingly full, the demon emerged. His appearance had already begun to change.

With swift efficiency, he set the tent and corpses ablaze, ensuring that no trace remained. His methods of covering his tracks were… rather admirable.

If only his eating habits weren’t so unsightly.

After completing his task, the demon turned his head. The flickering fire illuminated his face, exposing it fully.

He was handsome—extremely so. Yet in this setting, there was something undeniably eerie about his features.

And pain.

His expression was one of immense suffering, as if he were repressing something unbearably torturous. His handsome face contorted, nearly twisted in agony.

He clutched his head tightly, tilting his face toward the sky, letting out a silent, voiceless scream.

Qi Guanrui recognized him at once.

His mood immediately brightened.

With a deliberate movement, he made a faint noise.

The demon whipped his head around. “—Who’s there?”

Qi Guanrui stepped out from behind a tree, smiling gently. “Long time no see, Young Master Qiu.”

Indeed, the man before him was none other than Qiu Tu.

The same Qiu Tu who had gone astray in martial arts training, fallen into madness, and ultimately succumbed to his demonic urges—forced to consume human flesh to suppress the violent hunger consuming him.

Qiu Tu’s body tensed, his wariness intensifying.

He remembered this man—clearly.

“…Gu Gongzi?”

He had assumed his name was Gu Shan.

Qi Guanrui chuckled, shaking his head. “No, I am Qi Guanrui.” His gaze locked onto Qiu Tu’s as if admiring a rare and precious work of art.

“…And I am someone who can help you.”

His voice was warm.

So warm it sent a chill down the spine.