Dense spiritual qi transformed into layers upon layers of auspicious clouds, enveloping the majestic and solemn great hall, shimmering with iridescent hues under the morning light.
Among the four major sects, the Tian Zhao Sect’s great hall was the most magnificent, with even the pillars at its entrance crafted from pure, natural white jade.
This was Yu Qianqiu’s masterpiece from three hundred years ago, created shortly after he had just advanced to the seventh level of Spirit Cultivator and taken over the Tian Zhao Sect from the previous sect leader. At the time, he harbored ambitions to expand the sect and establish himself as the leader of the Hundred Immortal Sects—yet time flowed relentlessly, and three centuries later, he remained stuck at the seventh level, neither advancing nor retreating.
It was early morning, and Sect Leader Yu stood with his hands clasped behind his back in the vast, empty hall, allowing the sunlight from the horizon to spill over his gold-trimmed robes. His expression was placid, revealing neither joy nor anger, yet exuding an aura of authority that made others hesitant to meet his gaze.
“Did she really say that?”
“Reporting to the Sect Leader, it is absolutely true,” a white-robed steward replied. “According to the information I have gathered, the young mistress not only defended Xie Rong Jing but also treated his injuries…”
Yu Qianqiu chuckled softly. “Quite the kind heart.”
His laughter left the reporting steward uncertain of the sect leader’s true intentions.
Did he approve of the young mistress’s actions? If so, should the Law Enforcement Hall also reconsider their stance toward that Devil Seed?
Initially, when Xie Rong Jing was personally brought back to the Tian Zhao Sect by Sect Leader Yu, although the disciples harbored resentment, none dared to cause trouble for him.
Gradually, however, everyone realized that even if they targeted Xie Rong Jing, the sect leader would not punish them… leading to the current situation.
“Do not take lives and tarnish the Tian Zhao Sect’s reputation.”
That was all Yu Qianqiu had said in the past.
“Sect Leader, should I assign someone to assist the young mistress?” the white-robed steward tentatively asked.
Yu Qianqiu shook his head with a wry smile, like a father indulging a rebellious daughter. “No need. Keep an eye on Sui Sui and make sure she doesn’t cause trouble.”
This implied disapproval.
The steward felt relieved and respectfully withdrew.
Yu Qianqiu strolled out of the great hall, nodding in acknowledgment to the immortal attendants and maidservants who greeted him along the way.
In truth, the steward who had just reported had misunderstood.
Sect Leader Yu neither opposed nor supported his daughter’s recent unconventional behavior.
Outwardly amiable, Yu Qianqiu was inwardly displeased.
The faint essence of heaven and earth contained in the first rays of morning sunlight was highly beneficial for a Spirit Cultivator’s training.
Yet today, he had wasted half an incense stick’s worth of time listening to an insignificant report.
It was entirely unnecessary.
…
When the first light of dawn touched the earth, Yu Sui Sui was still asleep.
Her bed was large and soft, enveloping her entirely as she lay in it. The room was filled with the fragrance of an unknown spiritual herb, and it was said that beneath the courtyard where she resided, a small calming array was buried. No wonder her sleep quality improved daily, and she awoke each morning feeling refreshed and clear-headed.
After sleeping for another two hours, she rubbed her drowsy eyes and got out of bed.
“Young mistress, it’s time for your medicine.”
Hearing movement, her newly appointed personal maid passed through three curtains and two screens, carrying a bowl of green liquid to her bedside.
Accompanying her were several other maids holding washbasins, towels, clothing, and other essentials. Yu Sui Sui sighed inwardly once more: Being the young mistress was truly delightful.
Her courtyard appeared modest in size, yet the bedroom was several times larger than her entire apartment in the modern world. It was divided into multiple functional areas like a suite: one for sleeping, one for practicing the qin, one for storing clothes, and another for bathing.
The new personal maid, named Bai Shuang, seemed around the same age as the original host and retained a touch of innocent girlish charm. Glancing between the bowl of medicine and Yu Sui Sui, she worriedly said, “Young Miss, this medicine smells bitter just from the scent, so I ordered some sweets prepared for breakfast.”
Absolutely, absolutely.
In truth, even before Bai Shuang spoke, Yu Sui Sui had been wondering the same thing.
Seriously, this thing is supposed to be medicine?
It smelled like hydrogen peroxide mixed with squeezed lemon, spoiled food, and a final bowl of stinky tofu tossed in…
Did she really have to drink this stuff?
Rummaging through her memories, she realized—the original host had indeed drunk it. Not only that, but she drank it monthly, as painfully regular as a menstrual cycle.
Bai Shuang’s anxious expression swayed before Yu Sui Sui’s eyes.
The bowl of visibly bitter medicine also swayed in her vision.
No way.
She absolutely refused.
The Transmigration Bureau couldn’t alter the physical attributes of native inhabitants, but they could modify those of transmigrators like Yu Sui Sui—to make mission execution smoother. Unless it was a specific sickly or weak role-play, they typically enhanced the task performer’s physical condition.
Thus, Yu Sui Sui, who was perfectly healthy and pain-free, began pondering seriously.
How could she tactfully inform these people that she was already a healthy young miss…
Just as she was wrestling with the dilemma, a mechanical voice suddenly echoed in her mind.
【Host No. 720018, greetings.】
She froze for a moment but didn’t forget to first settle the room full of people: “Leave the things and go out for now. I’ll drink the medicine later.”
“Host, you seem to be adapting quite well,” the system praised, sounding somewhat surprised.
“Mhm.”
She nodded. Life here was comfortable, and the mission was progressing relatively smoothly.
Yu Sui Sui thought, a bit uncharitably, that it was at least easier than the system’s job.
There weren’t many systems in the Transmigration Bureau to begin with. These systems not only monitored various small worlds but also had to transmit plot details to transmigrators—so busy they hardly had time to shut down and sleep.
Therefore, they usually transmitted the plot and left immediately without lingering. Only first-time task newcomers warranted a system check-in mid-mission.
“That’s good.” Though it was a mechanical voice, Yu Sui Sui detected a trace of relief in it. “After completing this mission, you’ll be a formal employee of the Transmigration Bureau.”
“Don’t we need to complete three novice tasks before becoming official?”
“They are them, you are you.” The system praised, “No. 720018, you’ve done excellently.”
Yu Sui Sui: …Huh?
So, exactly what had she done so well?
Yu Sui Sui’s intuition told her something was off. Besides having a resilient mindset, she had another strength: her sixth sense was quite accurate.
And usually, it was the bad premonitions that came true, not the good ones.
Under her questioning, the system somewhat sheepishly revealed the truth.
Actually, this mission had been assigned incorrectly—it wasn’t a novice task at all.
Because Xie Rong Jing… he had never previously had a so-called white moonlight.
In every previous worldline, although everyone’s actions followed the same trajectory, this ancestor would undergo Blackening whenever he pleased, completely unpredictably and without any pattern.
Sometimes, he would turn murderous and flee immediately after his Meridians were destroyed, cutting down everything in his path. Even the male lead, who hadn’t yet begun his training and had no means to resist, was casually killed by him several times during their encounters.
Other times, he would remain within the sect in a half-Blackened state, but that didn’t make him any more stable than in other cycles. Lurking there, he would periodically eliminate a few people, much like in a murder game… Even the visiting protagonist team couldn’t escape his blade, nearly all falling victim to his casual strikes. It wasn’t until the mid-to-late stages of the plot that he stepped out from the shadows, swiftly annihilating the sect and declaring himself king in one fluid motion.
This unreasonable behavior filled the entire storyline with immense uncertainty. This was precisely the flaw of small worlds in novels—once the plot deviated, the world became unstable.
Yet, there was nothing they could do about him.
The antagonist was also a crucial character. Without Xie Rong Jing as the villain, this world would still face problems.
Watching this small world crumble a bit more with each cycle’s end, the employees of the Transmigration Bureau were so worried they were going bald.
Unless he could be made to undergo Blackening exactly one year after his Meridians were destroyed, as in the original plot—this version of Xie Rong Jing, having neither killed the male lead nor any other side characters, allowed the plot to develop smoothly and steadily.
To stabilize this world, the Transmigration Bureau decided to fabricate a new plotline, aiming to control the timing of his Blackening as much as possible.
And Yu Sui Sui was now the remote control for that.
The original host had never had any interaction with Xie Rong Jing.
She was merely an ordinary Spirit who happened to die around this time. After making a deal with the Transmigration Bureau, she happily departed to explore another world free from illness and pain, relinquishing her body.
…
“If this works, this small world could become quite stable,” the system’s mechanical voice carried a hint of anticipation. “We’d just need to send someone each cycle to act as Xie Rong Jing’s white moonlight, following your successful experience step by step.”
“What’s your employee number?”
“023, why?” Suddenly asked an unrelated question, the system was puzzled.
Yu Sui Sui: “I want to file a complaint against you.”
023: …
Well, it was indeed his negligence. Who could blame him? That period had been so hectic, his entire system was in a daze.
“Host, you’re so humorous. You haven’t returned to the Transmigration Bureau yet; how can you file a complaint?”
023 laughed it off, deciding never to tell Yu Sui Sui that this task had actually been attempted before by veteran transmigrators—the kind who were hailed as experts when they posted on forums.
It’s just that they… well, without exception, all failed.
Yu Sui Sui responded with an “Oh,” then added, “Then I’ll file the complaint after I return.”
023: “Wait, let’s discuss this properly, QAQ… How about this? Host, if there’s any information you want to know, I can help you look it up once, unconditionally!”
“What can you look up?”
“Basic things are all possible.” 023 paused. “The weather for the past thirty days, the map of this world, your body’s specific stats, or the mission target’s favorability toward you.”
None of that sounded particularly useful.
Only the last one piqued her interest a little.
“Let’s go with favorability then.”
The sheer volume of data required massive computational power. While 023 was busy crunching numbers with audible effort, it still found time to explain the values to this impressive newcomer.
“A favorability rating over 50 falls into the friend category. 50-60 is for casual friends; 60-70 for good friends; 70-80 for soulmates. To become a white moonlight, you’d need at least 70.”
So it was similar to being a soulmate. Now it was Yu Suisui’s turn to be surprised: “Doesn’t it need to reach 100?”
“Even mutually devoted lovers rarely reach 100,” 023 explained knowledgeably. “It’s uncommon for couples to exceed 90.”
Having spoken so much in one breath, 023 felt tired. Since becoming a system, this was the first time it had guided a newcomer so seriously.
Fortunately, the query results were about to appear. Yu Suisui was quite curious – she and Xie Rongjing got along fairly well, and she wondered if she counted as an ordinary friend in his eyes.
Of course, it was quite possible she didn’t. She could accept a rating in the 20s or 30s, since her favorability toward Xie Rongjing was probably around that level too – better than strangers but not quite reaching actual liking. If they were the same, that seemed fair.
Finally, under the anticipatory gazes of both human and system, an LCD-like screen materialized in Yu Suisui’s mind, displaying a number:
【-50】
Yu Suisui: ?
Holy crap, this thing could go negative??