Junior Brother Has No Idea - Chapter 1

The seventh time this month.

Xie Yong was suspended in a mid-air freeze, tilted at an angle just as he was about to tumble into the pond. His fluttering robes and stray hairs were paralyzed in the void. The surrounding clamor had vanished; time and space seemed to have congealed into a solid mass.

His consciousness remained, but he was trapped within his own frame, stripped of all physical sensation.

After a few breaths, the air warped and distorted. Two spheres of light one large, one small materialized out of thin air.

“System, is this the ‘Protagonist Shime’ (Bottom) of this mission world, Xie Yong? Holy… as expected of a protagonist, he’s stunning.”

[Host, please bind with the character immediately. The time-stop item only lasts twenty seconds.]

“Got it. Sorry, Xie Yong I’m borrowing your body for a bit. I’ll leave you a grand parting gift before I go.”

The first voice chuckled lightheartedly. Then, the smaller sphere of light dove straight toward Xie Yong’s body. The larger sphere flickered above, waiting tensely for the result.

Zzzt—!

The moment the light was about to merge with Xie Yong, his body suddenly erupted with a brilliant radiance. Protective rings of light surged outward, accompanied by a harsh, searing sound. The smaller sphere of light was incinerated into nothingness before it could even let out a scream.

Immediately following this, a loud splash echoed as Xie Yong fell into the pond.

The sound of footsteps on the veranda, the shouting of voices, and the suffocating sensation of icy water rushing into his nose and throat all returned at once.

His black hair and robes fanned out in the water. His limbs felt as stiff as stone. Xie Yong’s fingers twitched; he opened his eyes, desperate to call for help. He opened his mouth beneath the surface, but his plea turned into bubbles that drifted upward, contrary to his sinking body.

Hell, Xie Yong cursed inwardly.

Another bubble escaped as the air in his lungs vanished. Trapped at the bottom, piercingly cold water flooded his chest. He felt the despairing onset of death. Just as his consciousness began to slip away, he thought he saw a dark shadow leap into the water, swimming rapidly toward him.

Before Xie Yong could fully lose consciousness, he was dragged from the water and slapped hard across the face.

Choking, he was tossed onto the ground. He curled his body, coughing violently as he spat out mouthfuls of clear water. His black hair clung to his trembling frame like seaweed, and a small puddle quickly formed around him.

“Xie Yong,” the man who had fished him out looked down at him with loathing. “How many times does this make? Did I not warn you? Do not attempt to use these methods to get attention.”

Xie Yong wiped the water from his nose. He was still processing the conversation he had heard before falling. He gave no reaction to the man’s words.

It was strange. This month, he had encountered one bizarre accident after another. He would either fall into water while walking or be struck by a falling roof tile. Every time disaster struck, he would hear a nonsensical conversation just like the one just now about some “Mission World.”

He sat dazed on the ground, trying to untangle his chaotic thoughts.

“Second Brother.”

A pair of boots embroidered with cloud patterns stopped near him, carefully avoiding the puddles. The newcomer leaned down, his handsome face wearing an unmasked malice. “I suggest you give it a rest,” he mocked. “Aside from Mother, no one cares whether you live or die.”

He crouched, grabbing Xie Yong’s chin. As if seeing something hilarious, he ridiculed him: “I wonder why Daoist Master Fuying would take a useless waste like you as a disciple. Could it be he’s taken a liking to that pretty, useless face of yours?”

“Jiusi,” the man standing nearby warned. “Watch your tongue.”

Xie Jiusi pursed his lips and let go, standing up. He flicked a finger toward the older man. A cloud of white mist erupted around the man, and his soaked clothes instantly became dry.

Xie Yong, however, remained sitting on the ground, drenched. A gust of wind blew past, making him sneeze.

After using magic to dry the other man’s clothes, Xie Jiusi turned to leave. At that moment, Xie Yong reached out and grabbed his ankle.

Xie Yong looked up. His face was pale, his features delicate, and his dark eyes were filled with a brooding grievance. A red handprint still stained half of his face. He looked like a male ghost that had just crawled out of the water.

“What about me?”

He gripped Xie Jiusi’s ankle, refusing to let go.

Xie Jiusi instinctively wanted to kick him away, but he remembered that Xie Yong was a “medicine jar”—a fragile person. If he broke him with a kick, it would be a hassle.

But he truly did not want to help this person.

The tension between him and Xie Yong was long-standing. Recently, Daoist Master Fuying of the Qingyun Sect had visited, stating he wanted to choose a disciple from among the Xie family descendants.

The Qingyun Sect sat atop the peak of Mount Qingyun and was famous for its sword cultivators. Xie Jiusi was the cream of the crop among his peers and a practitioner of the sword; everyone assumed Fuying had come for him.

Xie Jiusi was gifted and had made a name for himself young. Though he wasn’t overly mercenary, he possessed a fair amount of arrogance. When the other disciples congratulated him, he had modestly said, “Perhaps it will be my eldest brother,” while secretly feeling certain it would be him.

Unexpectedly, Fuying chose Xie Yong a talentless waste.

Xie Yong was the second son of the main branch. When he was born, the family held high hopes. Their father, the Clan Head, had even invited the Great Ancestor out of seclusion to name him.

The Ancestor had looked at the infant from a distance, sighed, and said: “Yong’er, Yong’er.” (Mediocre child). Then, he vanished in a streak of light.

The Clan Head was deeply embarrassed. However, since the Ancestor had named him, the name “Yong” (Mediocre) had to stay. It was only because their mother threatened to leave the clan that he was eventually given his current name, Xie Yong (meaning “to embrace”).

And Xie Yong had indeed turned out exactly as the Ancestor predicted: a mediocrity.

The Xie clan was a great cultivation family. Their father, Xie Yi, was a genius among geniuses. In a family of overachievers, Xie Yong was a total straw-bag with zero talent. Worse, he was sickly, wasting countless clan treasures over the years just to stay alive.

Now, this “waste” had jumped ahead of Xie Jiusi to become a disciple of the Qingyun Sect.

Xie Jiusi couldn’t swallow his pride.

Xie Yong sat on the ground for a long time until he was nearly frozen, yet Xie Jiusi just stood there with a changing expression, refusing to dry his clothes. Finally, Xie Yong snapped impatiently, “Xie Jiusi, I’m freezing to death.”

Xie Jiusi instinctively retorted, “What does that have to do with me?”

Xie Yong narrowed his eyes. He was the best-looking of the three brothers, resembling their mother the most. Even the handsome Xie Jiusi looked like a dull leaf standing next to him.

Seeing a fight brewing, the eldest brother, Xie Wuyin, frowned. He waved a sleeve toward Xie Yong, and white mist rose from the boy’s body. A moment later, his clothes were dry.

Xie Yong let go of the ankle and climbed up. The various magical talismans and amulets hanging from his belt jingled.

Even though Xie Wuyin had helped him, Xie Yong didn’t say thank you. He pushed past Xie Jiusi and limped toward the corner of the veranda. His leg injury was from the previous “accident” a falling beam and it hadn’t fully healed before he fell into the water today.

Seeing such rudeness, Xie Jiusi wanted to call him back, but Xie Wuyin stopped him. The two brothers stood there, watching Xie Yong limp away with great effort.

After a while, Xie Jiusi muttered venomously, “Always acting like he’s half-dead. I wonder who he’s putting on that show for? Who is he trying to get sympathy from?”

“Jiusi,” Xie Wuyin glanced at him. “Don’t say such things again.”

Xie Yong limped back to his room and collapsed onto his daybed. It took him a long time to catch his breath.

On the side table sat a jade pot filled with nourishing tea. Xie Yong rose to pour a cup, his hands trembling.

The clear tea flowed from the spout, but before it could hit the cup, it froze in mid-air. That sensation of a “static world” swept over him again.

The eighth time this month.

Xie Yong lost control of his body again. His consciousness hammered against his ribs; he wanted to scream: Is there no end to this?!

「Holy crap, where is this? Who is this guy? What’s going on? Help! Help me!」

[Host, hello. This is the Mission World. Please follow the System’s guidance to bind with the ‘Protagonist Shime’ identity and begin the mission.]

「Ah—! Who’s talking?!」

[Host, hello. This is the Mission World. Please follow the System’s guidance…]

「Fuck your ancestors! This is kidnapping! Kidnapping! Send me back right now!」

[Host, hello. This is the Mission World…]

「Begin my ass! Bind my head! This guy is clearly alive; he was just pouring tea! How do I bind? Am I supposed to rob him?」

[Host, please refrain from profanity. You are the soul we selected with the best compatibility for this body. You only need to follow the guidance to occupy the protagonist’s body.]

「And then what? What happens to the original owner?」

[Host, please follow the System’s guidance to bind with the body and begin the mission.]

「I’ll fuck your grandfather! How is this different from murder? Let me go! Let! Me! Go!」

[Host, do not waste time. The time-stop item only lasts twenty—]

Splash!

The twenty seconds were up. Time began to flow again. The tea hit the bottom of the cup, sending up a small spray.

Xie Yong had been too busy listening to the voices to regain control of his muscles immediately. His grip loosened, and the teapot fell, smashing the cup on the table.

The two spheres of light one large, one small instantly scattered in opposite directions. The smaller light flickered excitedly, flying to Xie Yong’s ear and screaming: “Run! This ghost thing is trying to kill you!”

Caught off guard by this turn of events, the air around the larger sphere of light warped; it was clearly trying to flee.

Xie Yong let out a cold sneer. He lightly raised his hand a slender, fair hand with a green jade ring on the thumb. He poured his thin reserve of spiritual energy into the ring. Instantly, the room was flooded with a brilliant green light.

When the light faded, only Xie Yong remained, panting on the floor. Around him, a small sphere of light danced up and down, left and right, circling him joyfully.

“Holy shit! That was so cool, Hubby! What was that move called? Avada Kedavra?”