But I'm a proper river god, you know! - Chapter 23

Yuan Ji eyed the excited A-Tong suspiciously, hesitated for a moment, then spoke tactfully, “Maybe you should take a break?”

Perhaps the system was just exhausted, leading to hallucinations. She still needed it to recover her lost memories—what use was a malfunctioning system?

The thought sent a chill down Yuan Ji’s spine. She didn’t dare dwell on it.

A-Tong, oblivious to her implied concern, took it as heartfelt care. Happiness radiated from it.

It was the luckiest system ever!

Not only had it chosen a kind, beautiful host who actually cared about it, but the main system had also glitched and gifted it a bonus. A-Tong decided to immortalize this day in its data as a commemorative event.

“I’m fine, Yuan Ji!” A-Tong chirped, swiftly opening the system store interface and diving in. It hugged the golden lighthouse, giggling. “Go ahead with your tasks. I’ll bond with the lighthouse for a bit. Once we’re back, we’ll redeem it!”

As if responding, the lighthouse’s glow intensified. Yuan Ji’s eye twitched. She turned away silently and sighed.

“Alright.”

On the bright side, at least the river god’s temple wouldn’t need lamps anymore.

“Yuan Xiushi, is something wrong?”

Qi Yan, walking ahead, noticed Yuan Ji had stopped, her expression complicated. He quickly ran through his thoughts but found no obvious missteps. Curious, he asked, “Is there an issue?”

Yuan Ji pressed her fingers to her temples, exhaling weakly. “I was just thinking… under such bright light, fireflies would be hard to spot.”

Qi Yan hadn’t expected that answer. After a pause, he chuckled, his voice laced with faint derision. “Fireflies may be small, but if thousands gather, their glow could outshine even the brightest light.”

Yuan Ji’s hand stilled. She looked up, meeting his gaze—and for a moment, she thought she saw something in his eyes. Before she could decipher it, she hurriedly stepped forward.

“Let’s go,” she said flatly, showing no interest in further discussion. Talking to him was exhausting—he was always so cryptic. “It’s getting away.”

As if on cue, the vine let out a whoosh and slipped through a narrow crevice, leaving behind only a dark hole before vanishing.

Qi Yan: “…”

Yuan Ji: “…?”

Her face darkened. Annoyed, she summoned a white glow at her fingertips, ready to blast the hole wider.

But Qi Yan reacted faster. He caught her wrist, his warmth seeping into her skin—only to withdraw just as quickly. Yuan Ji stiffened, unnerved. She pressed the back of her hand against her robe, as if to wipe away the strange sensation.

“My apologies for the impropriety,” Qi Yan said, sounding genuinely regretful. “This boulder may seem sturdy, but it’s layered. If we force it open, the entire cave could collapse.”

Under Yuan Ji’s skeptical gaze, he retrieved a compass from his storage ring. “May I borrow that withered vine? It might help us locate its true hiding spot.”

Yuan Ji handed it over reluctantly. It was meant as a snack for her little fire spirit, and tiny bite marks were still visible on it.

Qi Yan crushed a small section onto the compass and traced a complex sigil with two fingers. Instantly, the compass spun rapidly before its characters lit up, pointing toward a passage in the opposite direction.

“This way. Let’s go.”

Yuan Ji studied the passage intently before following Qi Yan.

Where is he really leading me?

—

The new passage was wider than the last. Withered grass lay flattened, as if something heavy had passed through, and deep drag marks scarred the ground.

“There are people,” Yuan Ji murmured, catching faint breaths.

“It seems we’re on the right track. Who knew the vine would mislead us?” Qi Yan’s tone was amused. He gripped his sword, Zhijie, and stepped slightly ahead of Yuan Ji. “Be careful. It’s captured quite a few.”

Indeed. From the sounds, at least ten people were here.

They moved silently forward.

Amidst the rustling of gravel, muffled groans and whimpers echoed ahead.

Peering around a corner, they froze.

Yuan Ji blinked, baffled.

The vine had carefully wrapped itself around a pale-faced male cultivator, whose cheeks were now flushed red. It even occasionally stroked his face with a tender tendril.

The man’s eyes were clenched shut, his expression a mix of fury and resignation.

In stark contrast, a dozen other male cultivators were unceremoniously piled in a corner like discarded firewood.

Yuan Ji’s gaze flicked between them.

After a long pause, she ventured a guess: “Is it treating him better because he’s… prettier?”

How shallow. Valuing appearance over character.

She shook her head in disapproval.

Qi Yan coughed lightly, his voice slightly hoarse. “Yuan Xiushi, let’s free them.”

“Right.”

As Yuan Ji refocused, Qi Yan exhaled subtly. His fingers twitched, and a wisp of energy flicked toward the pretty cultivator.

The man—Mu Zhao—jolted awake, indignation boiling in his chest. He was ready to fight the vine to the death.

But the moment he opened his eyes, he saw her: a celestial beauty in plain robes, her ink-black hair fluttering like silk.

His heart skipped.

Mu Zhao’s face burned crimson. He gaped, spellbound, not even noticing the vine releasing him.

Only one thought echoed in his mind:

I’ve met a goddess from the legends!

Behind him, Qi Yan’s chest tightened inexplicably. He shot Mu Zhao a dark look before smoothly blocking his view.

When Yuan Ji wasn’t looking, he flicked another spark of energy at Mu Zhao.

“Ow!” Mu Zhao yelped, snapping out of his daze just in time to tumble off the rock pile face-first. “Ack—!”

The vine, sensing the intruders, recoiled. Seizing the chance, the trapped cultivators scrambled toward Mu Zhao.

“Young Master, are you hurt?” A burly servant hauled him up. “If anything happened to you, this lowly one could never atone!”

Mu Zhao shoved him away. “Help the goddess first!”

The servant stared blankly. What goddess?

Yuan Ji ignored them. She’d sensed something familiar in the vine.

Her expression hardened. As the vine tried to flee, she lunged, pinning a thick branch underfoot. Her sword flashed, severing a sneaky tendril.

Thick sap oozed out. The vine, realizing its predicament, retracted and balled up, bowling through the servants to escape.

Just as it reached the exit—

“Bang!”

Zhijie descended from above, slicing it clean in half.

Before anyone could react, a white glow enveloped a broken swastika token hidden within the vine and floated it into Yuan Ji’s palm.

“So it was this.”

She grimaced, stashing it away. She already had one; that’s why she’d recognized its aura.

But where was the other half?

Before she could ponder further, Mu Zhao bounded over, beaming.

“Goddess! I’m Mu Zhao of Flying Cloud City’s Mu Clan. May I ask your name?”

His voice was warm, his bright eyes fixed on her unwaveringly.

It made Yuan Ji’s skin crawl.

She frowned, subtly stepping back.

Undeterred, Mu Zhao grinned wider. Then, as if struck by inspiration, he pulled out a seed and channeled his energy into it.

The seed sprouted, grew leaves, and bloomed—all in seconds.

A stunning crabapple flower rested in his palm. “For you, Goddess.”

Yuan Ji: “?”

Mu Zhao added, “I lost most of my seeds on the way, so this is all I have. But if you like it, I’ll grow you a mountain of flowers next time!”

Yuan Ji: “…?”

As she debated how to refuse, Qi Yan stepped between them. His voice was icy. “Young Master Mu should keep it. Who knows if it’ll mutate too?”

Mu Zhao wilted. Normally, his plant manipulation never failed—why had the vine gone rogue today?

“My apologies,” he mumbled. “Thank you both for saving us. The Mu Clan will repay you generously.” He fiddled with the flower. “So… do you still want it?”

Suddenly, all eyes were on Yuan Ji.

Yuan Ji: “…?” What’s happening?

She glanced at Mu Zhao’s hopeful face, his anxious servants, and Qi Yan’s inexplicably stormy mood. Something felt off.

“You can accelerate plant growth?” she asked. “Did you mutate that vine?”

Mu Zhao nodded sheepishly. “I specialize in plant-based cultivation. Today, the vine just… changed. Maybe because I tripped and damaged the seed?”

As he scratched his head, Yuan Ji spotted a coppery glint in his sleeve.

She accepted the flower. A nearly imperceptible thread of white energy slipped into Mu Zhao’s sleeve, coiling around the other half of the swastika token.

“Thank you,” she said, brushing a petal. “It’s lovely.”

Though she’d praised the flower, Mu Zhao lit up like a lantern, while Qi Yan’s expression darkened further.

Then Yuan Ji added:

“You can make flowers bloom.”

“So the vine wrapped around you because…” She trailed off as everyone’s faces flushed.

Realization dawned. “It wanted you to help it bloom?”

Everyone: “…?”

Yuan Ji nodded sagely. “How vain.”

Everyone: “…?”