Bai Shengsheng was an ambitious man. Though he was a scholar, he wasn’t rigid or pedantic. Especially after the King of the Underworld entrusted all administrative work to him, clearly valuing his talents, it only fueled Bai Shengsheng’s drive. Over the span of a hundred years, he organized the underworld’s staffing and logistics into a well-oiled machine. He was practically the number-one authority in the underworld, and all the little ghost messengers knew that if they wanted anything done, they had to go through Bai Shengsheng. As for the King himself—respect in his heart was enough.
Early Ming Dynasty.
The human realm had just emerged from years of war. The underworld was swamped, working overtime to collect souls. Bai Shengsheng rubbed the bridge of his nose. The emperor of this generation really had caused trouble—during wartime, they’d collected thousands of souls a day, and now, he still had to run inventory checks to avoid mistakes.
The King of the Underworld summoned Bai Shengsheng, smiling slyly, “Your recent work’s been impeccable!”
“Just doing my job,” Bai Shengsheng replied coolly.
“I know you’re tired. I called you here to introduce someone. He’ll be helping you from now on.” He turned and called out, “What, you a shy maiden? Hurry up and get out here.”
A woman ghost, maybe? Bai Shengsheng thought.
He turned and had to look up—this guy was tall, dressed in a black robe, long black hair like ink, with long, deep black pupils. When he looked at Bai Shengsheng, his eyes curved like a smile. Bai Shengsheng blinked—he looked familiar.
“This is my nephew. You’ll be colleagues from now on. He was supposed to come earlier, but had a near-death experience during a tribulation and just recently recovered,” said the King, clapping Bai Shengsheng on the shoulder. Feeling his nephew’s intense gaze, he rolled his eyes and dropped his hand. “He’s intense and good at fighting. If any unruly ghosts cause you trouble, you can ask him for help.”
Bai Shengsheng’s face darkened. “He’s your nephew?”
“Yes! Oh, right—his name’s Heiqian (Black Coin). You’re Bai Shengsheng (White Life), he’s Heiqian—black and white! A perfect work combo!” The King looked pleased with himself.
“King of the Underworld,” Bai Shengsheng said slowly, “you promised fair and transparent employment.”
The King froze. “When did I say that?” Then, seeing Bai Shengsheng’s face darker than ink, he started to sweat. This man was meticulous and picky. If he got annoyed, it’d be endless. How could the King laze around then?
“Cough cough—now that I think of it, technically this wasn’t nepotism. My nephew is really capable. You’ll see.”
Heiqian, who had been staring at Bai Shengsheng the whole time, shifted his gaze to the King and smiled slyly, “Uncle, Aunt said she found a new snack. Aren’t you going to check it out?”
“A new one?!” The King jumped up. “You two get along now—Bai Shengsheng, I believe in you. Good luck!”
And then he was gone.
Heiqian turned his intense gaze back to Bai Shengsheng and said, “Little Bai, I’ll take good care of you.”
“Take care of me?” Bai Shengsheng said icily. “And don’t call me ‘Little Bai.’ We’re not familiar.”
“Then… Shengsheng?”
All he got was Bai Shengsheng’s angry back.
From then on, Bai Shengsheng felt constantly on edge. Heiqian seemed to oppose him in everything—constantly hanging around, always bringing snacks, calling him “Shengsheng” with that annoying smile. Just looking at him was irritating.
Heiqian embodied every trait Bai Shengsheng found annoying.
Day by day, Bai Shengsheng didn’t even realize that his tolerance for Heiqian had been steadily growing. The boundaries he upheld with others slowly dissolved with Heiqian.
Late Ming to early Qing.
Wars were raging. Rumor spread that a powerful demon had appeared in Suzhou—vicious and brutal, leaving death and decay in its wake. Locals prayed at temples, hoping the underworld would send someone to handle it.
Bai Shengsheng, while reviewing reports, saw the wish and frowned. He asked the nearby ghost, “Where’s that Black Freak?”
“You mean Lord Heiqian?” The ghost was new and didn’t understand the long-running love-hate relationship between the two.
Bai Shengsheng’s face darkened further. The little ghost trembled, thinking, He may look young and short, but Lord Bai is even scarier than Lord Hei.
“Summon him.”
The ghost scampered off. A while later, he returned nervously, “Lord Hei is on duty in the human realm today.”
“Alright, go.” Bai Shengsheng waved him off, deciding to go investigate first and let Heiqian know later so he could take care of the demon quickly—for the sake of the people, not to make things easier for that black freak.
He traveled from the underworld to a town in Hangzhou. Once bustling, it now lay eerily quiet.
As he pondered, a sudden sinister wind brushed behind him—in broad daylight.
Bai Shengsheng ducked, but nothing was there. Still, he felt the heavy aura of death surrounding him. Whatever it was, it was bold—clearly capable.
Huff huff huff—
Heavy, greedy breathing, like someone eyeing a feast. Drool dripped. A moment later, its true form appeared—a demon cultivator.
Bai Shengsheng stepped back, eyes guarded. He dodged repeatedly and attacked with precision, but the thing wasn’t afraid at all—it was unusually strong.
BANG!
He was knocked down. Two sharp, smelly fangs came straight at his face. He couldn’t dodge—
THUD!
The demon flew backward.
“My Little Bai.” A tall, dark shadow shielded him—it was Heiqian, grinning like always.
“You should be more careful.”
“Little Bai Bai, were you worried about me?” Heiqian beamed.
Bai Shengsheng snapped, “Worry about your own life!”
The demon pounced again. Heiqian drew a black scythe, and after a few exchanges, he had the upper hand. The blade flew straight at the demon’s head—clean cut. The head rolled.
“Finally dealt with,” Bai Shengsheng said, approaching.
“How will you repay me for saving you, Little Bai?” Heiqian said, tucking his scythe away.
His black pupils were clear again, as if the earlier battle hadn’t happened. Bai Shengsheng thought, Two-faced bastard, and scowled. “What do you want?”
“If I can’t be repaid, then I’ll take—”
“Look out!” Bai Shengsheng’s face changed. He jumped to block an unseen threat.
But Heiqian, who hadn’t even seen it, moved faster, pulling him down and shielding him.
THUMP.
Bai Shengsheng looked up. Heiqian’s face was covered in blood.
His clear, pretty eyes were now mangled flesh.
“HEIQIAN! HEIQIAN!”
The demon had faked death and unleashed one last poison strike. The shock forced it into full form—and real death. Bai Shengsheng didn’t bother dealing with it. He carried Heiqian back to the underworld immediately.
A wandering Taoist saw the scene. Stories spread—how two emissaries of death had slain the demon: one white, one black. Locals came to know them as Heibai Wuchang—the Black and White Impermanence.
Bai Shengsheng cradled Heiqian. It felt like that rainy day long ago when he held a bloodied black puppy.
“Don’t die. Please don’t die,” he whispered, tears unknown to himself.
When the King saw his injured nephew, veins bulging in rage, he disappeared with a group—presumably to find the culprit.
During that time, Bai Shengsheng couldn’t focus on work. For the first time in centuries, he was distracted.
Two weeks later, Heiqian returned—his eyes hidden behind a black mask.
Seeing it, Bai Shengsheng felt a pang. Heiqian smiled, “I got something great from Aunt for this. A blessing in disguise!”
Bai Shengsheng didn’t believe him. If his eyes were fine, why wear the mask?
“Don’t worry, Little Bai. I’m fine.”
Bai Shengsheng didn’t reply, head lowered, thinking Heiqian couldn’t see his tears.
But Heiqian asked, “Are you crying?”
“I’m not! Why would I cry?” Bai Shengsheng startled, wiping at his face.
Heiqian had only meant to tease him. But seeing him cry again—just like the day he’d held that dying puppy—his heart ached. He wanted to bully him all over again.
“My eyes are fine. Don’t be scared.” Heiqian lifted his mask.
A flash of white light. Bai Shengsheng froze, overcome with sorrow and anger. His head throbbed—then he blacked out.
Heiqian caught him, replaced the mask, and gently stroked his face.
“So… what breaks your heart the most is that you couldn’t protect me…”
From then on, life resumed as usual—but different.
Heiqian now loved annoying Bai Shengsheng even more. He moved into the room next door, poking in constantly.
Bai Shengsheng wanted to beat him but would stop short whenever he saw the black mask.
Heiqian had been hurt protecting him.
And so, centuries passed. The underworld got a makeover, work was digitized. Bai Shengsheng worked tirelessly, constantly learning to avoid becoming obsolete. He even made the ghost messengers study, tracked attendance, gave bonuses, organized teambuilding trips, and foreign visits.
Heiqian’s favorite pastimes became:
- Teasing Bai Shengsheng when he was busy.
- Watching him count money.
- Watching drunk Bai Shengsheng.
During a cultural exchange day, Heiqian pulled strings to win both travel spots.
Knowing Bai Shengsheng would be ambitious, he leaked the info. Soon Bai Shengsheng came to him, face grim. “What do I have to do to get a spot?”
“Obey me.”
“In your dreams.”
“Or… ten million.”
Bai Shengsheng gritted his teeth. “Fine. I’ll obey.”
“Such a money ghost,” Heiqian muttered fondly.
Bai Shengsheng stayed stony-faced, but the tips of his ears turned red.
Their trip was to Greece. Bai Shengsheng had never worked with foreign underworlds before. He planned to make connections and maybe earn more bonuses—maybe even outrank that black bastard! he thought gleefully.
But what he saw shocked him. Their underworld was a mess—everyone lazy, no structure.
He fumed. He wanted to roll up his sleeves and organize it himself.
At the farewell banquet, the hosts brought out a hundred-year-old wine—extremely rare.
Bai Shengsheng thought, Hah, we’ve got thousand-year-old vintage in our underworld. I’ve drunk it and never got drunk.
So he drank with everyone. But once outside in the breeze, he started staggering.
“Little Bai, are you drunk?”
“I’m not drunk!” Bai Shengsheng swayed in figure-eights.
Heiqian carried him back to the hotel, tucked him in, and returned to his room—only to find someone wriggling under his covers.
Lifting the blanket—it was Bai Shengsheng!
“So hot… it’s so hot…” he murmured, arms waving, then looked up blearily. “Xiao Hei, you feel cool…”
Then pressed his bare chest against Heiqian and snuggled.
Before this, Heiqian was content just teasing Bai Shengsheng. He had no interest in “physical exchange.”
That all changed the moment Bai Shengsheng’s lips met his.
Without instruction, he deepened the kiss. Bai Shengsheng, still mumbling about heat, stripped off his clothes and tugged at Heiqian’s.
That night, Heiqian finally understood what true happiness felt like.
Only Bai Shengsheng could give it to him.
His mother had been a goddess. His father—a wolf demon. Born of divine and demonic blood, he defied the laws of nature. After a year, he endured triple lightning tribulation, nearly dying. Beneath the willow tree, a scholar in a blue robe had picked him up.
That scholar was gentle, pure-eyed, and patient—no matter how much he misbehaved.
His eyes curved like the moon, full of spring water.
When he cried, it hurt Heiqian’s heart. Even as a child, without knowing what love was, he knew: This person—I must protect. I can’t let him cry again.
He thrust again—Bai Shengsheng clung to him like a little boat in a stormy sea, trembling, softly begging for mercy. Heiqian kissed away his tears, watching those crescent eyes cry again.
“Little Bai, you’re too cute when you cry. Makes me want to break you all over again.”
“You bastard! You bastard!”
Heiqian raised Bai Shengsheng’s arm—there was a small, deep bite mark on the pale wrist. He pressed a hot kiss to it and whispered:
“That year, in the rain, under the willow tree—you saved a little black pup. I couldn’t repay you for saving my life… so I offer myself to you.”
Bai Shengsheng stared, dazed. Then realization dawned.
“Xiao… Hei…”
“That’s me.”
Pinky says: Bahahaha get pranked, you fucked your dead dog.
Little Pink Starfish 
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