Babies, this is a Mary Sue / favorite-of-everyone pet novel, so those who dislike this genre should enter with caution. Please don’t curse our shou-bao (little shou treasure) as a scumbag later, okay? Actually, I wanted to write a polyamory / sandwiching ending, but it depends on you guys. If you want to ship him with a single person, that’s fine too.
Actually, it’s not a sliced gong, it was only labeled as sliced to get past the censors (> <)
Babies, can you please move your little hands to give this book a rating? Thank you, you are all my best reader babies. Another friendly reminder: please don’t curse shou-bao. Shou-bao is so cute, how could anyone bear to curse him?
Babies who like reading essays can go check them out, treat it as easing the withdrawal symptoms of reading a story (ò ó)
The last consciousness Su Yongan had before he died was of being heavily and unreasonably slammed away by an immense, domineering force.
The sound of shattering bones rang out as clearly as firecrackers exploding right beside his ear, and his field of vision was instantly covered by pitch-black ink, followed by an endless, viscous void that dragged him down into sinking.
His consciousness was like a torn rag, rolling and floating in the turbulent chaotic torrent.
I do not know how much time passed perhaps an eternity, perhaps just a single instant when a strange sensation of being wrapped replaced the tearing pain. There was no wind, no light, only a warm, rhythmic liquid gently sloshing all around him.
His body was curled up, tightly wrapped by a layer of flexible and elastic membrane, as if he were inside an absolutely safe fortress.
A slippery “rope,” pulsing with the rhythm of living beats, stubbornly connected somewhere on his abdomen, continuously conveying warm currents and nutrients.
Where is this?
The Yellow Springs? The Bridge of Helplessness? Or a transit station for reincarnation?
Su Yongan’s consciousness struggled to gather amidst the fog-like confusion. He tried to “see,” but before his eyes was only a profound, uniform warm red, as if separated by a thick piece of frosted glass soaked in sunset glow.
He tried to “listen,” but his ears were gently plugged by fluid, and most sounds were muffled and indistinct, like coming from the extremely distant bottom of the water.
However, some extremely special and intense vibrations could pierce through this warm barrier and directly knock upon his ignorant consciousness.
Thump… thump… thump…
Steady and heavy, like drumbeats coming from the depths of the earth, carrying a reassuring power. This is… a heartbeat?
Su Yongan thought vaguely, is this… someone else’s heartbeat?
Before he could figure out whose heartbeat it belonged to, another voice rang out as clearly as if it were pressed against his formless ear, carrying a softness and anticipation that could melt steel:
“Baby, how about we name you Su Yongan?”
That voice was as gentle as a spring breeze brushing against willow tips, yet carrying the crisp, pure quality of early spring stream water.
Every syllable was wrapped in an untangible, overwhelming love, carefully drilling into his chaotic consciousness.
Su Yongan? This name… sounds so familiar… isn’t that my name?
Before he had time to be shocked, a completely different voice followed closely after.
This voice was as clear as jade stones striking each other, yet its tone carried a clumsy gentleness that was deliberately lowered for fear of disturbing something, along with a trace of uncontainable pride belonging to the strong:
“Mhm, Yongan is good. Peace and safety forever. Your father here is the Peak Master of Jade Void Peak, and I’m very powerful!
From now on in this Mingjian Sect, Daddy’s got you covered. If anyone dares to bully you, Daddy will hack them!”
Peak Master? Jade Void Peak? Mingjian Sect?
A string of unfamiliar terms, ones only seen in web novels, smashed into Su Yongan’s consciousness, making stars spin before his eyes.
He… he is… reincarnated?
And he reincarnated into a cultivation world? The crucial part is… it seems… he didn’t drink Meng Po’s soup?!
An absurd feeling assaulted him.
He was a righteous university student from the twenty-first century, freshly graduated from a graduation trip and planning to return to school to start a wonderful life.
Being killed by a car crash was one thing, but now he actually carried his past life’s memories and turned into a… fetus?!
Immediately afterward, an indescribable sensation of “stroking” through a soft barrier arrived.
That feeling was quite wondrous; it wasn’t direct contact with the skin, but rather external pressure acting gently on the membrane wrapping him around.
Passing in was a cautious touch filled with infinite tenderness. Over and over again, gentle as a feather brushing against the tip of his heart.
Was it the owner of the gentle female voice that spoke just now? His… mother? And that man who claimed to be “Daddy” and “Peak Master”?
Intense curiosity sprouted like a freshly unearthed shoot, instantly pushing aside Su Yongan’s lingering bewilderment and absurdity regarding “not drinking Meng Po’s soup.”
What kind of people would his future parents be? They seemed to have very high status, listening in? That “Peak Master”… in cultivation novels, it seemed to be quite a big official role?
He couldn’t help but concentrate all his drifting consciousness, striving to “sense” the owners of those two voices outside.
“A-Lan, lighten up, don’t scare him.” The gentle female voice chided with a smile.
“Ah? Oh, oh!” The clear male voice immediately lowered even further, even carrying a hint of tension.
“Wife, can he… can he feel me? Why isn’t this little fellow moving?”
His tone was filled with the clumsiness and nervousness of a newly minted father.
Su Yongan inwardly uttered a “tsk.” This cheap old father of his sounded a bit… blocky?
It seemed to have some distance from the immortal, otherworldly, majestic “Peak Master” image he had imagined.
He subconsciously wanted to stretch his legs to prove his sense of presence.
However, the moment this thought arose, an irresistible wave of exhaustion washed over him, instantly drowning out his trace of weak curiosity.
The infantile, fragile instinct took absolute the upper hand, and his consciousness sank once more into that warm, safe chaos.
The sounds of the outside world gradually blurred and faded away, leaving only that steady, robust heartbeat thump… thump… thump… becoming the eternal lullaby of this tiny universe.
The passage of time lost its scale inside the warm amniotic fluid.
Su Yongan’s consciousness was like a jellyfish floating and sinking in the warm ocean, sometimes waking up to catch fragmented, blurred sounds from the outside;
Sometimes dragged into dreamless darkness by deep sleep.
Those sounds gradually grew richer.
He heard his mother the woman whose voice was as gentle as water, addressed by his father Su Lan as “Qingzhi” frequently humming a strange, ancient-sounding melody he had never heard before.
That tune was distant and ethereal, seemingly containing a power to pacify the soul. Every time she hummed it, it made his curled-up body feel incomparably comfortable and relaxed.
He heard his father, Su Lan, that Jade Void Peak Master, speaking most of the time with a steady and majestic authority belonging to those in higher positions.
When conversing with subordinates, his words were few and powerful, radiating unquestionable decisiveness.
However, as soon as the topic shifted to him and his mother, that majestic shell of ice instantly melted. His tone would unconsciously soften and rise, even carrying a foolish sort of bubbly excitement.
“Qingzhi, look at this box of South Sea shark pearls sent over today, how is the quality? Shall we grind them into a calming pearl necklace for our Yongan?”
“Qingzhi, I just came back from the Spirit Beast Garden, and picked out the most docile cloud-patterned snow marten cub, all fluffy. When Yongan comes out, it can be a playmate for him to pass the time!”
“Qingzhi, who do you think Yongan will look like more? Best if his eyes are like yours, big and bright, and his nose… well, follows mine is fine too! Tall! Haha!”
Whenever this happened, his mother Wen Qingzhi would always respond softly with a smile, her laughter crisp and pleasant like wind chimes: “Whomever he resembles is fine, as long as he is safe and healthy.”
Su Yongan listened silently in the amniotic fluid, the awkwardness in his heart regarding “transmigration” and “not drinking Meng Po’s soup” quietly melting away under this daily chatter and anticipation.
These parents he had never met seemed… really excited about his arrival. This pure affection quietly wrapped around him through the warm amniotic fluid, filling the void and chill left by his sudden death in the past life.
He even began secretly, clumsily trying to interact with the outside world.
When Su Lan’s large hand reached across his mother’s belly, bringing spiritual energy and careful probing to “poke” gently, Su Yongan would strive to wiggle his tiny arms or legs to “push” back.
Every successful “response” could draw low, surprised chuckles from Su Lan outside and gentle laughter from Wen Qingzhi.
This silent communication became a secret joy within his chaotic consciousness.
However, the peaceful and warm “water world” was not unchanging. Su Yongan soon experienced another kind of “hardship” of being a fetus.
Wen Qingzhi seemed to suffer severely from morning sickness.
Sometimes, without warning, the warm universe wrapping around Su Yongan would shake and bump violently, as if a storm had suddenly risen on a calm sea.
The amniotic fluid surged restlessly, squeezing his tiny body and bringing intense discomfort and dizziness.
The muffled, painful dry retching of his mother outside came through clearly, accompanied by Su Lan’s anxious and heartache-filled comforting: “Qingzhi! Quick, take a Qingxin Pill! It’s all this little brat’s fault, tossing his mother around!”
Su Yongan curled up aggrievedly in the churning amniotic fluid. How could this be his fault!
He didn’t want this either, okay? He hoped for stability more than anyone! This unprovoked disaster made him deeply understand what it meant to “sit in the womb, and the pot falls from the sky.”
What made his heart leap into his throat even more was when Wen Qingzhi once seemed to have agitated her fetus.
A sudden, intense tightening sensation squeezed fiercely from all directions! That power was incomparably domineering, as if it would grind his small body to pieces!
The warm amniotic fluid even took on a hint of chill. Unprecedented panic gripped Su Yongan; he felt as though he were grasped by an invisible giant hand, crushing even his consciousness.
The outside instantly became chaotic; Su Lan’s voice lost its usual composure, rising to a shrill pitch:
“Qingzhi! Hang on! Medicine! Quickly get the fetal-protection Jiuzhuan Ninglu! Quick!”
The hurried footsteps of maids, the clinking of vessels colliding, the warm current brought by Su Lan’s rushed injection of spiritual energy… chaotic and tense.
Su Yongan panted laboriously amidst the intense compression (even though he didn’t need to breathe),
feeling the fragility of life for the very first time whether his own, or his mother’s.
That time, it was the continuous influx of Su Lan’s pure spiritual energy, carrying a mountain-like, steady protective power, that slowly smoothed out that terrifying spasm and pulled him back from the edge of suffocation.
After this storm, Su Yongan became much more “well-behaved,” trying his best not to “stir up trouble.”
He spent more of his time immersed in his own conscious world, sorting through the long-blurred fragments of memory from his past life.
College life, friends’ smiling faces, library sunshine, the screeching brakes the moment he was slammed away… these images were sometimes clear and sometimes blurry, like a faded movie watched through frosted glass.
Occasionally, some bizarre fragments seemingly belonging to a “novel” would flash by without warning:
Ethereal palaces shrouded in immortal mist, figures stepping on flying swords, the brilliant, world-destroying light of spells… and a vague, lofty title sitting high in the clouds, compassionately overlooking all living beings “Immortal Venerable”?
These fragments were scattered and chaotic, unable to grasp any clear context, leaving only an inexplicable sense of familiarity before sinking deep into his consciousness without a trace.
Su Yongan shook his non-existent head, casting away these distracting thoughts.
Immortal Venerable or whatever, right now he was just a baby waiting to emerge from his mother’s womb.
He cared more about the dad outside who called himself “Peak Master” and spoke a bit obtusely, and the mom with the gentle voice who sang to him.
He was curious about what they truly looked like, curious about the place called “Mingjian Sect,” and curious about the outside world… the world of cultivation.
Days quietly slipped by amidst this warm imprisonment, sweet anticipation, and occasional heart-pounding moments.
The change happened without any warning.
It was a moment when Su Yongan’s consciousness was exceptionally clear. He was idly “listening” to the outside.
It seemed Su Lan was reporting sect affairs to Wen Qingzhi. The voice was pressed somewhat low, but keywords still drifted in intermittently:
” Those thorns in the outer sect are acting up again… snatched the monthly spiritual stones of the newly arrived chores disciples… started without knowing their own strength, broke two legs… the Law Enforcement Hall has gone to handle it…”
Wen Qingzhi’s voice carried a hint of worry:
“Outer sect again? A-Lan, the atmosphere in the outer sect of Jade Void Peak these years really needs a thorough rectification. Bullying the weak, what kind of decorum is that? If this continues, the foundations will be hollowed out.”
“What the (wife) says is true.” Su Lan’s voice carried coldness.
“I have already ordered severe punishment, abolishing the cultivation of the ringleaders and expelling them from the sect. Just taking this opportunity to clear things up properly…”
Su Yongan listened with some fright. The cultivation world was indeed ruled by the law of the jungle; even an outer sect was this chaotic?
Abolish cultivation, expel from the sect… this punishment sounded ruthless enough. He unconsciously shrank his non-existent neck.
Right at this moment!
An unprecedented, overwhelmingly mighty force crazily surged in from all directions without warning!
No longer the gentle shaking or occasional spasms from before, but a will carrying the irresistible mandate of the laws of heaven and earth, about to forcefully expel him from this warm fortress!
“Ugh, ah!” Wen Qingzhi’s painful, suppressed moan rang out abruptly, carrying a tearing agony.
“Qingzhi!” Su Lan’s voice changed pitch instantly, filled with unprecedented tension and panic:
“Giving birth?! Why so early! Someone! Come quickly! Midwife! Alchemist! Quick!”
The outside exploded instantly! Sharp cries, messy and hurried footsteps, the crashing sound of shattered vessels…
The buzzing of violent spiritual energy fluctuations… all kinds of sounds rushed in like boiling water, assaulting Su Yongan’s fragile senses.
The warm amniotic fluid wrapping him around, driven by this terrifying force, began to violently and uncontrollably surge and spin!
Compression! Crazy compression!
Su Yongan felt as though he had been thrown into a shrinking stone mill!
The invisible millstones carried destructive power, fiercely grinding his soft skull and tender bones from all directions!
Every inch of flesh and blood, every single nerve was screaming in unbearable overload!
That flexible membrane that had protected him for ten months had now become a noose tightening around his life! The pain of suffocation descended so really for the very first time not the lack of air, but the despair of having space completely stripped away!
“Ugh… gasp…” He wanted to struggle instinctively, wanting to.
“Push! Wife! Push!” A strange, aged, and eager female voice pierced through the chaos.
“Qingzhi! Hang on! Look at me! Spiritual energy! Follow my guidance and circulate!”
Su Lan’s voice was close at hand, carrying a tearing hoarseness and a forcibly suppressed composure.
A stream of spiritual energy, more powerful, purer, and gentler than ever before, surged like a warm flood from beyond that membrane.
Disregarding everything else, it rushed into his tiny body, desperately guarding his heart meridian and fragile spiritual awareness, fighting against that terrifying compressive force.
This spiritual energy was like a beacon in a storm, giving him a trace of meager support.
Yet the pain did not lighten by a single fraction.
That grinding force persisted, pushing him along a narrow, slippery, oppressively dark tunnel, moving downward slowly and painfully.
Time lost all meaning. Every second was stretched into an eternal torture.
Su Yongan felt like an iron ingot thrown into a furnace, struggling to keep his consciousness from scattering amidst the extreme pain and the crack of his father’s desperately maintained protective spiritual energy.
Darkness, compression, suffocation, excruciating pain… Was this the price of descending into the mortal world?
Just as he felt his consciousness about to completely collapse, to be swallowed by this boundless pain and darkness.
Ahead, a trace of faint light!
Extremely faint, like a tiny hole poked by a needle tip in a pitch-black night sky, yet it instantly ignited all his will to survive!
Light!
He exerted the last shred of strength born from life’s instinct, heading toward that tiny gleam of light, struggling… desperately… pushing!
“Waah!!!”
A piercing cry that practically tore through the air abruptly shattered the suffocating tension and anxiety in the Jade Void Peak main hall’s delivery room!
Pain!
This was Su Yongan’s first, most distinct, and most domineering sensation after regaining consciousness.
Not the crushing pain of compression, but… a brand new, unfamiliar, overwhelming storm of pain!
The warm liquid that had wrapped him for ten months vanished abruptly, replaced by a naked, chilly air that unreservedly pressed against his wet, wrinkled skin.
Every pore screamed with cold, forcing his tiny body to shiver violently and involuntarily.
Even with his eyes tightly shut, that omnipresent, excessive light pierced through his thin eyelids, stinging retinas that had never touched brightness before.
Before his eyes was no longer uniform warm red, but large patches of jumping, dazzling light spots that made his consciousness dizzy.
His mouth and nose seemed blocked by something viscous and slippery!
He wanted to breathe instinctively, but only inhaled liquid tainted with a fishy scent, choking him into a flurry of violent coughing and struggling. That resounding cry was thus interrupted, turning into painful whimpers and coughs.
“Out! Out!” The midwife’s voice rang out, trembling with joy.
“Quick! Clear the mouth and nose!” Su Lan’s voice followed closely behind, carrying a post-disaster hoarseness and unquestionable urgency.
Immediately afterward, a rough yet exceptionally dexterous pair of fingers probed over, gently and swiftly sweeping past his mouth and nose to clear away those viscous obstructions.
A gentle breeze carrying the scent of fresh vegetation brushed past his mouth and nose that was the gentle airflow guided by Su Lan’s own pure spiritual energy.
“Gasp cough! Wuuwaah!!!”
Finally able to smoothly inhale the first breath of air belonging to this world!
That air carried a chill, pouring into his lungs and bringing a strange fullness with a slight stinging sensation.
Immediately, a louder, more aggrieved, more accusation-laden cry erupted once more!
As if venting all the pain, fear, and stuffiness he had just endured in the birth canal through this heart-rending cry, pouring it out all at once onto this cold new world that greeted him!
“Yongan! My Yongan!” Wen Qingzhi’s voice, weak to the extreme yet brimming with immense ecstasy and maternal soft radiance, rang out close at hand.
Amidst physiological tears and blurred light and shadow, Su Yongan struggled hard to open his heavy eyelids.
His vision was hazy, like a person with high myopia taking off their glasses. Light and shadow swayed, figures blurred. The first thing that crashed into his blurry field of vision was a face leaned in extremely close.
That was a… remarkably handsome man.
Jet-black long hair was scattered somewhat messily, a few strands soaked in sweat clinging to a smooth, full temple.
His facial contours were deep, like carved jade, his sword-like brows slanted up into his temples, his nose bridge high, while his thin lips were slightly pursed right now, carrying a trace of imperceptible trembling.
What shocked Su Yongan’s mind and soul the most were those eyes.
That was a pair of extremely deep phoenix eyes, the outer corners slightly upturned.
What should have been a sharp curve was instead overflowing with… an emotion Su Yongan had never seen before nor could easily describe with words.
Inside them was wild joy, like a volcano dormant for a millennium erupting with a roar;
There was lingering fear, like drawing rein at the cliff’s edge with lingering palpitations; there was the huge fortune of recovering what was lost;
And there was also a kind of… clumsily pious, cautious cherishing.
Deep pupils clearly reflected his tiny self wrinkled, red, crying at the top of his lungs. That gaze was too focused, too scorching, as if only he existed between heaven and earth.
This was… that dad of his who claimed to be “Peak Master” and spoke a bit obtusely? Su Lan?
Su Yongan forgot to cry, forgot the cold and the stinging pain, and simply stared dazedly at those deep phoenix eyes filled with complex emotions yet devoid of even a shred of disgust.
Immediately following that, another face gently leaned in, carrying sweat, tears, and exhaustion, yet radiating a sacred and gentle brilliance.
Her face was pale, her lips dry, her hair dampened by sweat clinging to her cheeks, yet her gaze was astonishingly bright, filled with endless affection and satisfaction.
She reached out, her fingertips trembling slightly, and touched Su Yongan’s wet, wrinkled little face as gently as touching the most fragile treasure in the world.
“Baby… my Yongan…” Wen Qingzhi’s voice was weak yet full of power, every word soaked in tears, “Mother is here… don’t be afraid, it’s all over…”
The temperature of those fingertips carried the post-disaster warmth, passing through his skin straight to the bottom of Su Yongan’s chaotic heart. Mother…
His body was lifted up carefully by an even steadier pair of large hands carrying thin calluses but matchless gentleness.
Su Lan gently picked him up, his movements as stiff as holding fragile colored glass, every minute movement carrying twelve thousand points of caution.
Then, extremely gently, he placed him into Wen Qingzhi’s weak yet impatiently opened embrace.
Escaping the chilling air, he fell into an embrace that, though weak, was incomparably soft and warm.
The familiar maternal scent carrying a faint, elegant medicinal fragrance instantly surrounded him.
The sense of security of being wrapped inside the amniotic fluid returned in a brand new, even more endearing way.
Coldness, stinging pain, panic, grievances… all intense discomforts miraculously and rapidly settled down within this embrace.
Leaving only an extreme exhaustion and a… indescribable peace of mind, as if having found a true home.
He stopped crying, his tiny body relaxing, leaving only tiny, aggrieved whimpers.
Su Lan sat by the bed, one hand tightly gripping Wen Qingzhi’s hand, while his other calloused, knuckle-defined large hand performed a clumsy gentleness.
Carefully parting the wet fetal hair on Su Yongan’s forehead, he used the pad of his thumb to extremely gently brush his red, wrinkled little forehead.
“Qingzhi, look at him…” Su Lan’s voice was low and hoarse, carrying a soft gentleness bordering on choking, “Like you, his brows and eyes are just like you…”
Wen Qingzhi smiled weakly, lowering her head to gaze at the little life in her arms, her gaze so gentle it could drip water:
“His nose is like yours, tall.”
She paused, watching Su Yongan’s tiredly closed little eyes, his long eyelashes still stained with teardrops, before suddenly saying lowly with a trace of strange premonition:
“A-Lan, this child… when he just landed, his life lamp… seemed to flicker…”
Su Lan froze slightly, then gripped his wife’s hand tighter, his tone decisive and unyielding:
“No matter! With you and me protecting him, whatever twists and turns his destiny holds, I, Su Lan, will surely hack out a smooth immortal path for him! Let him have peace and safety for a lifetime!”
The majesty of a Peak Master was fully displayed at this moment, carrying an unquestionable will to protect.
Su Yongan was extremely tired and just wanted to sleep deeply.
The dialogue outside became blurred and indistinct, as if separated by a thick water curtain.
Su Lan’s firm words and Wen Qingzhi’s warm embrace were the only anchor points he could perceive at this moment.
Just a second before his consciousness completely sank into darkness, his tiny, practically powerless hand whether out of instinct or some inexplicable resonance slightly, gently curled up.
His fingertips seemed to very weakly hook onto a strand of Wen Qingzhi’s soft hair that hung down. That movement was so subtle it was almost imperceptible, yet carried a nest-returning-chick-like attachment.
Wen Qingzhi trembled slightly, lowering her head to look at the infant’s unconscious little movement, her eyes instantly brimming with tears while the smile at the corners of her lips deepened and softened further.
She gently adjusted her posture so that the tiny hand could grasp her hair more comfortably.
Su Lan also saw this scene, and his stern lips couldn’t help curving upward. The warmth in his deep phoenix eyes was almost overflowing.
He leaned down, pressed a treasured kiss to Wen Qingzhi’s sweat-dampened temple, and used his fingertip to extremely gently touch the little fist of Su Yongan gripping his mother’s hair.
“This kid actually has quite a bit of strength,” he chuckled, his tone filled with unprecedented satisfaction and doting,
“So young and he already knows to grab his mother.”
The rich bloody scent and medicinal herb aura in the hall had not yet dissipated, but the tense atmosphere had been completely replaced by an immense post-disaster warmth.
Outside the window, daylight had broken brightly, and golden sunlight slanted in through the carved window lattices.
Casting warm light spots on the clean floor, it also gently enveloped the family of three hugging by the bed.
Su Yongan fell soundly asleep in absolute peace. He didn’t know whether the youth named Yan Xiu had been born yet at this moment.
Nor did he know the “karmic ties” of sheltering and being sheltered, aching waists, and fetal-delivery pills in the future.
He only knew that at this moment, this warm embrace carrying a faint medicinal fragrance was the very first haven he designated after his primordial chaos opened.
The cries of newborn had ceased, and a long and bizarre immortal path quietly unfurled amidst the warm sunlight and tenderness of this room.