A middle-aged man, dressed plainly and holding a stick, with a contorted face, was chasing a boy as slippery as a loach.
Despite his small stature, the boy ran quite fast, but halfway through, he bumped into a man. The man, having a short temper, became enraged by the collision.
With one hand, he lifted the scrawny boy.
The boy's clothes were tattered, his hair a mess, obscuring his face, and his cheeks were smudged with dirt. Yet, his eyes held a darkness that belied his age, like still water that couldn't be stirred, evoking disgust in anyone who saw them.
He was thrown to the ground. People kept kicking and hitting him, cursing him, but the boy, carefully protecting the white buns in his hands, endured it all. Every bone in his body felt broken, yet he didn't utter a sound. Blood blurred his vision, a red stain seeping into his eye.
Perhaps they tired themselves out, and they left, grumbling.
Pain was his only sensation.
But through the pain, he regained some clarity. He propped himself up with his hands, but couldn't get up. After a moment of rest on the ground, he trembled as he pushed himself up with one hand, the other carefully holding the buns.
By the time he staggered home, it was already dark.
This place couldn't be called a home; it was more like a dilapidated temple.
Upon reaching the temple, he felt a sense of safety and began to devour the buns in his hands.
However, the buns didn't sate his hunger or quell the gnawing pain in his stomach, which continued to cramp and twist relentlessly.
He curled up in a dark corner, hugging his knees, burying his head in his arms. His small body trembled slightly.
An eerie silence surrounded him, broken only by the howling wind and the rustling of leaves. The wind carried a bone-chilling cold.
A mass of dark energy silently enveloped the temple, transforming into countless threads that slowly approached the boy.
The boy let out a muffled groan, a searing pain causing him to collapse. His pained moans were faint, as if they originated from his throat.
More and more dark energy coiled around him, entangling his entire body. The boy bit his lip tightly, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. His once dark, lifeless eyes now held a hint of confusion.
Was he... dying?
He wished... he wished he could die...
A strong white light shone in, not dazzling.
But it made the dark energy cower and flee in all directions, yet it was all in vain. The beam of light was like their nemesis; wherever it touched, they slowly dissipated.
Driven by an unknown force, the dark mist in the sky gradually vanished. The moon rose, its light filtering through the leaves, scattering shimmering fragments of jade onto the ground.
The dark mist in the temple also disappeared, restoring it to its original state.
The boy, sprawled on the ground, moved his fingers and slowly opened his eyes. Before he could fully recover, a pair of white boots adorned with golden patterns appeared before him, spotlessly clean.
Was he not dead?
Why! Why!
System: [The great villain is right beneath your feet! What do you intend to do?]
Shen Yue had no intention of toying with the great villain's emotions this time. She only needed to follow the plot, bring the great villain and the heroine together, and make the great villain fall in love with the heroine. This way, the great villain wouldn't need her, the minor villain, to provoke him. When the great villain desired the heroine, he would naturally embark on the path of a great villain.
Shen Yue sensed that no demonic energy had been left behind. As she moved, she felt someone grip her ankle. Her expression froze, then she slowly crouched down.
The boy involuntarily clutched her, and upon looking up, he saw an immortal with her eyes covered by a white cloth, her brows as vibrant as a flower.
In his daze, the boy even thought he had met an immortal. After all, such beauty was like the favor of a divine being.
"You..." The boy uttered a hoarse syllable, completely lacking the childishness expected of his age, his voice rough and unpleasant.
Shen Yue could not see the scene before her, but she could sense that the boy was severely injured. If not treated promptly, he might not survive the night.
A bottle of medicine materialized in her hand. She took out a pill and silently offered it to him.
The boy looked at the immortal's delicately sculpted features and her fair, slender hand, then at his own dirt-covered hand, and for a moment, he dared not reach out to take it.
Sensing the boy's inaction, Shen Yue said coldly, "Eat it."
Her voice was clear and elegant, as unattainable as her appearance.
The boy cautiously took the pill. It dissolved instantly in his mouth, and the pain in his body seemed to vanish. He felt light and comfortable all over.
This immortal... had saved him.
"Even if meeting is fate, are you willing to return with me?" Shen Yue's expression was indifferent.
The boy dared not look at the immortal's face. A glint of light flashed in his dark, lifeless eyes, and he answered with a tremble, "Will... ing."
His voice was strange and hoarse, due to not speaking for a long time, making his pronunciation awkward and his tone dry and unpleasant.
But Shen Yue showed no disgust, her expression remaining detached and cool as she slowly stood up.
The boy also pushed himself up with his hands. He kept his head down. Even though he knew the immortal's eyes were covered and she couldn't see him, he still dared not look up.
Shen Yue extended a hand to him. The boy bit his lip, glanced at his dirty hand, and quickly wiped it twice with his clothes until his hand turned red before grasping the immortal's hand.
The delicate touch and cool temperature in his palm made him feel that holding the immortal's hand was a form of desecration.
When flying on the sword, the boy clung tightly to Shen Yue's hand, his other hand stealthily tugging at her sleeve.
He had finally escaped a life of being as humble as dust, where even animals lived better than him.
The one who had pulled him out of the abyss was the picturesque immortal before him.
"What... is your name?" The boy's words were difficult and slow to articulate.
Shen Yue did not even turn her head, merely stating coolly, "My Daoist title is Xiyu, my name is Shen Yue."
The boy involuntarily tightened his grip on the immortal's sleeve and remained silent throughout the journey.
The main reason was that Shen Yue did not initiate conversation, and the boy was not good at speaking.
Upon reaching Qingxin Hall, the flying sword moved and landed, and the sword subsequently disappeared.
Shen Yue led him by the hand into the hall, immediately sensing a familiar aura.
A woman in a red robe was reclining on a couch, her exquisitely beautiful and enchanting face resembling a demoness more than an immortal.
Every movement she made was full of allure, yet Shen Yue could not see it.
"Xinxi." Although Shen Yue's eyes were covered by a white cloth, she accurately pinpointed the woman's location.
The woman smiled lazily, her red lips like roses, akin to a blooming peony. "Senior Brother, next time you should listen to me and not be so reckless when going out. You are so naive, Senior Brother; be careful not to be deceived by others."