Ch 100: The Cannon Fodder Won’t Play Along Anymore [QT]

Mu Xing finished sorting through everything and had the sudden urge to pat Prince Yu on the head.

Too miserable.

Fallen into the hands of the same scumbag twice.

Xiang Feicheng had never truly intended to love or cherish Prince Yu. To him, Yu was a spirit—an attractive, intelligent spirit he could communicate with. But no matter how beautiful or clever, that was all.

He had approached him with a sense of wonder and novelty. The boy’s innocence and beauty stirred his male desire. But before long, his base nature reared its head—he grew tired.

Or rather, he decided such a relationship wasn’t “healthy.” After enjoying the thrill, he thought he’d rather go back to a “normal” girlfriend.

But it had been he who led Prince Yu into this game, only to walk away without a thought for whether the other could just as easily withdraw.

Prince Yu sat dazed on the rooftop for an entire day. As dawn broke, the warm sunlight fell on him—painful, and yet it brought everything back.

It had all been two thousand years ago.

Everything—his parents, his kin, his love and hate—was buried long ago beneath the sands of time.

Xiang Fangting, so he heard, had returned in glory to his homeland, buried with pomp, revered by the people. Yet decades later, tomb robbers broke in, stripped his coffin of treasure, and tossed his bones aside. Only much later were they discovered by descendants.

Those grave robbers, hateful as they were, had in a way avenged him. For who knew better than he that once a man dies, the light goes out—nothing remains.

Prince Yu no longer knew whom to hate. His clarity returned, and with it, his obsession dispersed.

When the obsession ended, so too should he.

But still, as a youth in his teens, to be betrayed twice by men of the same bloodline—it was galling. Translated on Hololo novels. Though after regaining his memories, Xiang Feicheng no longer truly mattered to him.

Prince Yu went to find him.

At the time, Xiang Feicheng was chatting animatedly with a new girlfriend.

Silently, Yu watched him. Drawing on the power of the residence, he laid a curse.

Curses couldn’t be cast lightly. Without grievance or enmity, to harm another came at great cost. But if enmity existed—it was another matter.

Xiang Feicheng’s ancestor had wronged him. He himself had done so again. For such a curse—not even a particularly vicious one—the heavens turned a blind eye.

That night, when Xiang Feicheng and his beauty of a companion reached their most passionate moment, the lovely woman beneath him instantly turned into a blood-drenched specter, fanged and ghastly.

Those cold, sticky, blood-soaked hands still wrapped around him, cooing his name sweetly.

Xiang Feicheng let out a scream and tumbled from the bed.

Had he not been broad-minded and well-traveled, the fright might have killed him.

His companion shot him a strange look, saw he had gone soft, sneered that he was “all looks, no use,” and coldly dressed to leave.

Xiang Feicheng: “…”

It took him six months to crawl out of the psychological shadow. But he didn’t know—this was only the beginning.

From then on, no matter where or with whom, the moment intimacy began, however beautiful the partner, they would transform into a ghastly ghost in his arms.

No desire could survive that.

After enough times, he developed a full-blown aversion to intimacy. And rumors spread—Xiang Feicheng was “no good.”

For a pleasure-seeking, face-loving second-generation heir like him, such humiliation was worse than death.

---

Mu Xing reflected: Prince Yu was truly a good person. Pity he met a scumbag.

If only he had been reborn in Yu’s own time—perhaps more regrets could have been mended.

“No, I already thank you deeply.”

A clear, refined voice sounded at his side.

Mu Xing turned—and was stunned to see someone sitting beside him.

Clad in long robes, hair loose, skin pale, features exquisite—though seated upon the roof tiles, his composure carried an innate elegance.

Who else but Prince Yu?

“You…” Mu Xing was confused.

Prince Yu smiled. “I am the embodiment of that final wisp of obsession. Soon, I will disperse.”

He rose and bowed deeply. “I know not what manner of immortal you are. These days, watching your conduct, I gained much insight, and freed myself from old grievances. The past is gone. I thank you for helping me avoid one last calamity. Before leaving, I wished to appear and bid you farewell.”

Mu Xing, seeing his form grow translucent, couldn’t help but ask:
“Don’t you want to strike back at Xiang Feicheng? I can help you.”

Prince Yu winked playfully, a glimpse of the carefree boy he once was flashing in his eyes.
“My grievance was with Xiang Fangting. He’s long since turned to dust. Why trouble his descendants? As for Xiang Feicheng—he wronged you. That’s yours to handle.”

He stood on the eaves, facing the moon. His long hair and robes lifted in the night breeze. Bit by bit, his figure faded, as though riding the wind away.

Mu Xing stared up, dazed. Who would know someone had just been here, leaving behind a trace?

As he lingered, lost in thought, a shout rose below.

“Little Master Mu!”

He looked down—it was Elder Yu.

Feeling uncharacteristically willful, Mu Xing pointed a finger. In the stunned eyes of Yu’s assistants, the old man’s body lifted into the air, floated wobblingly, and landed beside Mu Xing on the roof.

The assistant nearly fainted, but Elder Yu—aside from his initial shock—was actually quite intrigued, savoring this rare experience.

He looked at Mu Xing with some excitement.
“You really are different from all the spirits I’ve ever met. You feel more like… one of those immortals from the myths of old. You…”

As if realizing something, he lowered his voice.
“Are you in a bad mood?”

Mu Xing sighed, gazing up at the full moon. His tone was leisurely:
“Not exactly unhappy—just not much in the mood.”

He turned to Elder Yu
“You came rushing to find me. Did you discover something new?”

At that, Elder Yu’s expression immediately became complicated.

Mu Xing frowned.
“What is it?”

Elder Yu cleared his throat, tapped on the virtual holoscreen, and said:
“Indeed, there’s very little information directly about you. But we tried another route—investigating Xiang Fangting instead. From that angle, we uncovered quite a few surviving records from your era: unofficial histories about him, and countless folk tales and storybooks inspired by him.”

His tone and choice of words instantly gave Mu Xing a bad feeling.

“There are… ones involving me?”

Elder Yu hesitated, voice tangled.
“…Yes. And not just a few.”

Mu Xing’s unease deepened, but he had never been one to avoid a problem.
“Show me.”

Elder Yu tapped the screen again. A row of documents appeared—all digitized reproductions.

Mu Xing’s spiritual sense was vast. With a single glance, he swept across the texts. In just a few breaths, every word was etched into his mind.

And after reading—

Mu Xing: I’d pay anything for a pair of eyes that had never read this garbage!

Because Xiang Fangting was historically stamped as “handsome and amorous,” and his life had been legendary, these unofficial histories mostly recorded his romantic escapades.

As for the storybooks? Even wilder.

Every level of obscenity.

If it were just Xiang Fangting alone, Mu Xing could ignore it. But clearly, the ones Elder Yu showed him were all about Xiang Fangting and Prince Yu.

Prince Yu and Xiang Fangting were “bosom friends”—one handsome, the other ethereally beautiful; one a rising noble, the other a royal prince. Add to that the popularity of male love during the Qi Dynasty, and it was inevitable. Writers churned out stories about their supposed romance—the equivalent of modern fanfiction.

Of course, no one back then thought it was true. They had no idea they’d accidentally brushed against reality.

But for Mu Xing, though he wasn’t Prince Yu himself, seeing Yu’s name tied to Xiang Fangting’s in such tales—filled with syrupy intimacy and passion—was unbearable.

He stared at Elder Yu with a blank expression.

Even Elder Yu, usually bold, realized that this good-tempered “living relic” was angry.

He coughed and hurried to shift blame.
“My assistants were reckless. I told them to look for useful materials, but who knew they’d send me this nonsense.”

Mu Xing narrowed his eyes.
“Nonsense? How do you know it’s nonsense? Did you read them?”

Elder Yu: “…” Damn! Slipped up!

He forced a dry laugh.
“No, no, of course not. I only glanced at the names—just the names! They already looked ridiculous.”

Then he looked at Mu Xing with hopeful eyes.
“Little Master, did any of these remind you of something?”

Mu Xing waved his hand, closing the files.
“I’ve remembered everything already.”

Elder Yu froze, then brightened.
“You mean… you remember it all?”

“Mm.” Mu Xing’s face was dark.
“And you’ll destroy those storybooks. The things they wrote—utterly offensive.”

Elder Yu thought to himself: But they’re rare historical texts… what a waste.

One glance from Mu Xing, and he knew exactly what the old man was thinking. Mu Xing snorted.
“I’ve recalled so much, and I realize that many modern explanations of the Qi Dynasty are incomplete—or outright wrong…”

Elder Yu’s eyes lit up.
“Truly? Then please, Little Master, share your knowledge with us.”

Mu Xing continued:
“I also remember playing treasure-hunt games with the palace attendants when I was young. We buried all sorts of things—gold, jade, porcelain, embroidered sachets… even a luminous pearl gifted by the Beifu Kingdom…”

Elder Yu’s eyes gleamed.
“Do you recall where?”

Mu Xing drawled:
“Where, hmm… depends on whether those storybooks—”

Elder Yu cut him off with righteous indignation:
“Such misleading falsehoods obviously don’t deserve to exist!”

As if! Compared to actual relics, those trivial tales were worthless.

Then Elder Yu remembered something else.
“Little Master, our country wishes to produce a program. They hope you’ll appear as a special guest, to educate the public about the origins and meaning of spirits—so people will respect the dead, respect life, and stop using the pain of the departed for entertainment.”

Mu Xing blinked, then nodded.
“All right. But it should be soon.”

Elder Yu was puzzled.
“Why soon?”

Mu Xing pointed to himself.
“Elder Yu, I’ve remembered everything. My obsession has dispersed. You understand what that means, don’t you?”

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