Xue Laohu worked tirelessly in his dimly lit workroom. Papers were scattered across every available surface, some crumpled from previous frustrations, others hastily scribbled with half-formed calculations and sketched blueprints. Around him, heaps of various metals lay in disarray, each piece pulled from scraps or carefully selected to withstand intense heat. In the center of the room stood a kiln, its fiery core blazing with a relentless orange glow that illuminated his focused expression and glinted off his tools. The kiln's heat filled the space, creating a haze that made the shadows dance along the walls.
The strong, earthy scent of tea mingled with the sharp tang of burning metal, a jarring reminder of the long hours he had spent there. He yawned, stretching, and rubbing his bleary eyes, barely taking his gaze off the paper clutched in his hand—a detailed sketch of the gun he aimed to recreate. He could almost feel the weight of it in his hand, a memory from his modern life.
Yi Ming had always been captivated by firearms. In the modern world, he had spent countless hours engrossed in war games with his friends, immersed in the tactical thrill of first-person shooters. He could still picture the adrenaline of battle simulations, playing as soldiers in virtual conflicts that mimicked real-world military scenarios. Some games transported him to futuristic sci-fi battlegrounds, where weaponry and technology were both more advanced and more alien than anything he could craft here. Others dropped him into chaotic battle royale arenas, testing his skill and endurance to outlast everyone else.
He sighed as he glanced at a pile of metal fragments beside him, a depressing graveyard of misshapen prototypes and failed experiments. One particularly bulky, malformed lump of metal vaguely resembling a gun leaned against the table, mocking him with its imperfection. Frustration surged through him as he clutched his head, gritting his teeth. No matter how many hours he poured into this, it felt like he was still so far from holding that gun in his hands.
"Ugh! If only I had a 3D printer!" Xue Laohu groaned, his voice echoing through the dim workroom as he paced toward the molds he'd painstakingly designed for the pistol. Each mold was a trial of precision, yet none gave him the perfect result he craved. He imagined the gun complete in his hands, a powerful gift he wanted to present to Li Zhameng.
Li Zhameng, his little NPC, was endearing but frustratingly lacking. To Xue Laohu, he was mediocre in every way—his qigong was underwhelming, his swordplay sloppy and half-hearted. Average, at best. But despite his shortcomings, Li Zhameng had a fierce determination that Xue Laohu couldn't ignore. He wanted to arm him with something decisive and deadly, a weapon that could take down any opponent in a single blow, erasing any need for prolonged struggle. With a pistol like that, Xue Laohu wouldn't have to worry about him getting hurt.
His gaze shifted to Xue Tuzi's weapon—the ribbon. Not just any ribbon, but the iridescent pink one that Jiao Jiao made which flowed with a potent, unsettling demonic qi. The system had designated the ribbon as Xue Tuzi's weapon in his character description, as if fate had ordained this choice. Its ghostly shimmer hinted at power beyond what it seemed. Yet even as he accepted its potential, he had doubts about whether Xue Tuzi would even accept it. The stubborn streak in Xue Tuzi was well-known, and Xue Laohu could already imagine the resistance.
Exasperated, Xue Laohu raked his hands through his hair, gripping it in frustration as he let out a loud, exasperated scream. "Why is he so damn difficult?"
Upstairs, just a short distance from Xue Laohu's workroom, Li Zhameng slept soundly in his bed, snoring without a care in the world. Drool trickled from the corner of his mouth, glistening on his pillow as he shifted from side to side, half-covered by his blanket, with one leg and foot poking out. His lips twitched into a sleepy smile, and he mumbled, "Shizun, hold still," lost in the warmth of a pleasant dream.
In the adjacent room, however, Xue Tuzi tossed restlessly, trapped in the clutches of a relentless nightmare. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his head turned sharply from side to side, brows furrowing as he whimpered. In his dream, he was running-endlessly running-from an army of monstrous wasps. All around him, dismembered bodies littered the ground, the stench of half-eaten, rotting flesh heavy in the air. Some of the corpses still screamed in agony, their eyes wide with terror as they clawed at the earth.
A faint voice, small and desperate, called out to him. "Help me! Gege, help me!" A bloodied little hand clutched the hem of his sleeve, the fingers trembling. He looked down to see a young child, barely recognizable under layers of blood and dirt, being devoured alive by a relentless wasp. The wasp stung him viciously, its mandibles digging deep into the boy's flesh, drawing another anguished cry. Xue Tuzi's eyes widened in horror as he screamed, but the sound was swallowed by the swarm.
Around him, the wasps gathered, their buzzing thick with menace. They laughed-a twisted, mocking giggle- pointing their venomous stingers at him as they opened their jaws wide, revealing dripping fangs that glistened with bloodthirsty hunger. Just as they closed in, a sudden, scorching heat flared from his chest. A small, fierce ball of fire had ignited there, blazing furiously and expanding the moment the wasps touched him. Their hands burned instantly, reduced to ashes as they yelped in pain, their bulging, bug eyes filled with hatred and fear.
Xue Tuzi glanced down at the fireball in shock, hesitating as he felt its warmth. With a surge of determination, he clutched the flame tightly, running deeper into the shadowy abyss, setting fire to everything in his path. The flames leapt from him, consuming the nightmare around him, casting away the darkness. He dropped to his knees, cradling the fireball in his arms as it transformed into something familiar. Opening his eyes, he found Jiao Jiao nestled against his chest, safe and warm.
A shrill, piercing screech echoed through the residence, reverberating from Xue Tuzi's room. In an instant of horrified reflex, he flung Jiao Jiao across the room, shuddering in disgust as he clutched his robe tightly around himself. A faint red mark stood out on his chest—a reminder of Jiao Jiao's "gentle" suckling, its tiny mouth having left a lingering warmth on his skin.
Xue Laohu bolted down the stairs from his workroom, his heart pounding as he tried to decipher what could have caused the scream. Meanwhile, Li Zhameng stretched lazily, yawning as he rolled out of bed, rubbing one bleary eye in annoyance at the disruption. His discontented grumbling accompanied him down the hall as he shuffled toward the commotion.
Shudu was the first to arrive, his expression unmistakably irritated. Jiao Jiao had disappeared from his crib, and the moment he heard the scream, he knew exactly where that troublesome little Gu worm had wandered. His eyes scanned the room until he found the plump, squishy larva sprawled across the floor, looking thoroughly content and rounder than before. It had clearly been feeding on Xue Tuzi's excess negative energy, engorging itself until its tiny, slick body looked like it could burst.
"Hmmm, you've been quite the glutton, haven't you?" Shudu muttered, bending down to scoop up the wriggling worm. He tapped the back of Jiao Jiao's slinky body, eliciting a soft burp from the Gu worm, which then wobbled slightly, a look of pure satisfaction in its buggy eyes. Jiao Jiao wriggled happily in his hands, its bloated body emitting a faint, unsettling glow from the energy it had absorbed, as Shudu eyed it with exasperation.
Appalled and thoroughly repulsed, Xue Tuzi hissed, "Get that filthy maggot away from me!" He backed up, tugging his robe tighter around himself as though to ward off any lingering traces of Jiao Jiao's touch.
Shudu's face twisted into a frown, his sharp teeth flashing as he shot Xue Tuzi an icy glare. Turning to the little Gu worm in his hand, he scolded, "See? He doesn't appreciate the lengths you go to for him. Stop wasting your time." Shudu lifted his palm, preparing to give Jiao Jiao a small disciplinary smack on its squishy backside. But as he raised his hand, he noticed two glistening tears clinging to Jiao Jiao's big, watery bug eyes, trembling as they threatened to spill over. He let out a weary sigh, his hand falling to his side.
Xue Tuzi crossed his arms tightly, his eyes narrowed in contempt. "What did he do for me, besides latch onto me like some blood-sucking leech?" His gaze was cold, and the small mole beneath his bottom lip seemed to darken as his scowl deepened.
Shudu's expression hardened, his eyes rolling in disdain. "Tch, don't flatter yourself," he scoffed, clutching the sniffling Jiao Jiao against his chest with a protective huff. "Come on, Xiao Jiao." He turned his back on Xue Tuzi and walked away, muttering consolations to the tiny Gu worm as it burrowed into his arms, still sniffling, its antenna drooping. Shudu's footsteps faded down the hall, his anger only slightly softened by the faint shudder of Jiao Jiao's tiny sobs against his chest.
Xue Laohu let out a deep, weary sigh, his gaze drifting to Xue Tuzi, who was glancing down at his chest, gently rubbing the red blemish that marred his pale skin from Jiao Jiao's overzealous feeding. He looked genuinely rattled, his face flushed as he tried to shake off the unsettling encounter. Meanwhile, Li Zhameng yawned loudly, stretching his arms with lazy contentment. "Shizun, can we go back to sleep now?"
Xue Laohu nodded, his voice calm. "You may." He watched as Li Zhameng trudged back down the hallway, oblivious to the turmoil in the room he was leaving behind.
Once Li Zhameng had gone, Xue Laohu's expression shifted, his brows pulling into a tight furrow. Just fucking great, he thought bitterly. After this, Xue Tuzi would probably never accept that ribbon as his spiritual weapon. What the hell am I gonna do now? He cried out internally, his mental fists slamming against the floor of his subconscious in frustration.
"Shizun…" Xue Tuzi's voice was small and hesitant as he looked up, adjusting his robe to hide the faint red mark on his chest. "This disciple caused a commotion and disturbed Shizun. He begs for forgiveness." He dipped his head, clearly embarrassed, his fingers gripping his robe tightly.
Xue Laohu took a deep breath, softening as he reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Xue Tuzi's shoulder. "It's okay. You were startled—it's only natural." A faint, gentle smile crept into his expression as he tried to comfort him. He couldn't stay mad at his Shou MC; after all, Xue Tuzi's fear of insects was deeply rooted, thanks to that awful encounter with the demon wasps. It was only natural he'd have a visceral reaction to anything remotely bug-like.
But as much as he understood, the reality of his predicament loomed large. How in the world was he going to get Xue Tuzi and the Insect Demon Lord to coexist, let alone bond? His thoughts spiraled, an internal scream of frustration echoing through the abyss of his mind.
Outwardly, though, he managed to keep his composure. His eyes softened as he looked at Xue Tuzi, giving him a comforting smile before turning to leave. Inside, however, his mind was a storm, already churning with desperate ideas to repair the fraying threads of their delicate relationship.
Xue Laohu stood in the courtyard, taking a steadying breath as he prepared to call over Li Zhameng and Xue Tuzi. He had gone over this moment a hundred times in his mind, rehearsing exactly how he'd explain the purpose of their spiritual weapons. He felt relatively confident about Li Zhameng's weapon choice—straightforward, practical, no issues there. But the moment he imagined Xue Tuzi's reaction to the ribbon, his heart sank. He'd tried to envision every possible response Xue Tuzi might have, but each scenario ended with him screaming internally, clutching at the walls of his mental abyss.
SCENARIO 1:
Xue Laohu, in his most dignified tone: "Ahem, Xue Tuzi, for you, I would like you to keep this ribbon woven from the silk of the demonic Gu, Jiao Jiao, as your spiritual weapon."
Xue Tuzi, disgusted: "Surely Shizun is joking. I could never accept that thing spat out from an insect demon as my spiritual weapon."
Cue Xue Laohu, screaming inside as his plan crumbles.
SCENARIO 2:
Xue Laohu, more tactfully this time: "Xue Tuzi, I know how you feel about bugs, but this silky ribbon is the perfect spiritual weapon for you. It's versatile, and you could even tie your hair with it if you wanted, see…"
Xue Tuzi, horrified: "Disgusting! Shizun, you didn't even try to forge me a real weapon! Am I a joke to you?"
Xue Laohu's internal anguish mounts as he imagines the scene spiraling out of control.
SCENARIO 3:
Xue Laohu, in a fit of desperation: "Xue Tuzi, this ribbon is your spiritual weapon. Listen, don't blame me—blame the system! It's already been marked as yours, and I've already collected the measly 10 extra life points, so… just take it!"
Xue Tuzi, completely bewildered: "What's a 'system'? And why are you giving me this… abomination?"
Each time, Xue Laohu could picture himself banging his head against the metaphorical walls of his mind in frustration, clawing at his temples as he tried to make sense of his predicament. How was he supposed to get Xue Tuzi to see the worth of this weapon without collapsing into utter defeat?
Summoning all his resolve, Xue Laohu steeled himself, trying to shake off the mental baggage of his imagined disasters. Today was the day. He would face the scene head-on, and with any luck, he'd survive the chaos of convincing Xue Tuzi that a bug-spun ribbon was, indeed, a worthy spiritual weapon.
Xue Laohu let out a guttural scream of desperation, his hands flying to his head as he sank to the ground, overcome by the mounting pressure of his own plan. Li Zhameng and Xue Tuzi sprinted over, their faces contorted with worry, both shouting, "Shizun!" in unison. Their voices were tinged with panic as they hovered by his side.
Xue Laohu took a shaky breath, slowly lifting his head as he composed himself. "I'm okay. I'm fine," he said, forcing a weak smile. With a trembling hand, he unfolded his fan, nervously waving it to calm himself. "What's the worst that can happen?" he muttered, almost to himself. Gradually, his confidence returned. He straightened, snapping his fan shut with a decisive flick, his gaze hardening as he looked at his disciples with renewed determination.
"Li Zhameng, come forth." His voice was steady, as he cast a commanding glance at Li Zhameng, who swallowed nervously before stepping forward and bowing deeply.
Xue Laohu reached into his robe and revealed Li Zhameng's spiritual weapon—a gleaming handgun with a sleek black barrel and a rotating six-chambered cylinder. It looked both foreign and formidable in the serene setting of the courtyard. Li Zhameng's eyes widened in surprise as he cautiously took the weapon, inspecting it with visible confusion. Along with it came a small pouch filled with bullets, which he held up, turning it over curiously. The weapon was unlike anything he had ever seen, and he couldn't fathom how it functioned.
"Allow me to show you how this spiritual weapon is used," Xue Laohu said, taking the gun from Li Zhameng. He loaded six bullets into the cylinder with practiced ease, his movements swift and assured. He then turned, his gaze sharpening as he spotted a small bird perched innocently on a nearby tree, completely oblivious to the chaos unfolding below.
Xue Laohu raised the revolver, locking his eyes on the target. The courtyard seemed to hold its breath as he pulled the trigger. A thunderous bang shattered the morning calm, the single shot ringing out through the air as the bullet flew straight and true, striking the bird and bringing it down in an instant.
The deafening sound echoed through the Emerald Courtyard, sending nearby disciples scrambling in alarm as they rushed toward Xue Laohu's residence, eyes wide with confusion and concern. Li Zhameng's eyes widened as he held his new weapon, his mouth hanging open in awe. "Woah…" he breathed, utterly captivated by the sheer power of his spiritual weapon.
"It'll take some time for you to get used to it," Xue Laohu said, pulling out his fan and fanning himself with vigor as beads of sweat dotted his forehead. His mind drifted briefly to all the hours, days, and months he had dedicated to mastering "Zom-Bam-Bam: Undead Playground 13," perfecting his aim and reflexes in countless online battles. He remembered the way he'd sit glued to the screen, even skipping showers, until his mother would storm into his room and disconnect the WiFi, fuming about his hygiene.
"Thank you, Shizun," Li Zhameng stammered, gripping the gun clumsily. He lifted it to examine the weight, unknowingly pointing it toward his own face in the process. Without missing a beat, Xue Laohu whacked him on the head with his fan, the sharp crack breaking through Li Zhameng's reverie.
"Gun etiquette!" Xue Laohu snapped, his eyes narrowing as he glared. "Before you can even think of wielding it, you must learn to handle it safely. Carelessness will only get you hurt." His gaze was stern, and Li Zhameng quickly lowered the weapon, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish grin, muttering a quiet apology.
As Xue Laohu tucked his fan away, he noticed Xue Tuzi standing a few paces back, watching the exchange in silence. His posture was tense, his full lips pressed tightly together, while the small mole at the corner of his mouth seemed almost to quiver with apprehension. Xue Tuzi's eyes flickered with a mix of curiosity and wariness, and he kept his gaze firmly on the ground, avoiding eye contact with Xue Laohu as he waited for his turn, anxiety practically radiating from him.
"Xue Tuzi, come forth," Xue Laohu called, his voice wavering just slightly as he waved his fan to mask his nervousness. He picked up a small wooden box, flipping it open to reveal a shimmering pink ribbon inside, the faint glow of demonic qi swirling through its silk.
Xue Tuzi's gaze dropped, unable to hide the disappointment that flitted across his face. His shoulders sank, his lips parting as he tried to voice his protest, but before he could utter a word, Xue Laohu pressed his thumb gently against his mouth, silencing him.
"This ribbon," Xue Laohu began, his voice a quiet murmur, "is laced with demonic qi. It's unbreakable and can stretch or sharpen at will—a formidable weapon." Xue Tuzi's brows knitted in defiance, his eyes flashing as he tried to protest, but his Shizun's thumb remained on his lips, rubbing softly until they flushed a warm shade of red.
"I couldn't create a better or more fitting weapon for you. This… this is meant for you," Xue Laohu said, his voice uncharacteristically tender. Slowly, he withdrew his thumb, letting his hand brush along Xue Tuzi's cheek as he reached for a lock of his hair. Carefully, he gathered the strands, slipping the ribbon around them and tying it into a neat, elegant bow.
Xue Laohu turned abruptly, snapping his fan open and fanning himself briskly as he walked away. His fan waved back and forth, hiding his own face as he left Xue Tuzi standing alone, speechless, one hand reaching up to touch the ribbon in his hair, still warm from his Shizun's touch.