No One Is Allowed To Lay Eyes On The Evil God’s Precious Beauty - Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Qingqing, I Beg of You

Perhaps it was because the dream was so relaxing that it felt like a voyage into the distant past.

Wuyi’s mind was a bit muddled, but subconsciously, he didn’t want to let go. Although Qing Zhu’s body was still very cold, it gave him more security than all other warm things combined.

Sensing his fear, Qing Zhu eventually seemed to resign himself to fate and gently pulled him into an embrace.

“You almost lost your life just taking a bath.”

Wuyi caught the faint, rasping sarcasm in his voice, but this time he didn’t talk back. Instead, he sniffled and whispered, “It’s only because you weren’t there.”

He had choked on water earlier, and his throat and nasal passages still burned with a stinging pain. His voice was hoarse and small, looking utterly pitiful.

Qing Zhu simply rested his hands on Wuyi’s back and shoulders, making no further movement. He didn’t ask anything, but Wuyi was determined to tell him anyway.

In a listless tone, Wuyi recounted the dream he just had. He got a bit angry in the middle of the story, but by the end, he was full of surprise.

“I almost forgot about that incident. So, were you already by my side back then?”

He didn’t actually know when he had started being able to sense Qing Zhu. It felt as if, through some silent process, Qing Zhu had merged with him and become an indispensable part of his existence.

Qing Zhu gave a light snort. “Think again.”

Even earlier?

Wuyi was shocked, but his mind was a complete blank; he couldn’t remember anything.

His body was still instinctively shivering, yet he refused to let go. Qing Zhu didn’t indulge him for long, soon gripping his waist to lift him up and grabbing a towel from the rack to wipe his eyes.

“Go shower.”

With those words, before Wuyi could get a proper look at his blurred form, the black mist dispersed and darted out through the gap under the bathroom door.

“Stingy.”

After showering and changing into pajamas, Wuyi felt warm and toasty again.

Qing Zhu had transformed back into the little black snake, currently coiled atop a jewelry box on the nightstand. In the dim light, his eyes weren’t visible, but Wuyi felt as though he was scrutinizing the contents inside.

Pouting, Wuyi showed a bit of mercy and walked over to explain, “This is the bracelet Fu Liuye bought for me.”

Even though he knew Qing Zhu had no sense of aesthetics, he couldn’t resist asking: “Is it pretty?”

“…”

Qing Zhu’s voice was icy: “Inferior goods.”

Huh?

Wuyi was instantly incensed. “You’re talking nonsense! This was very expensive.” Fu Liuye wouldn’t buy him second-rate stuff.

Qing Zhu didn’t care about his attitude, lazily coiling himself around the bedside lamp. “As long as you like it.”

When those words came from his mouth, they always sounded strangely sarcastic.

Wuyi sat on the bed with puffed cheeks, unable to stop himself from admiring the gemstone bracelet that shimmered with brilliant colors under the light. Where is it ‘bad’? It’s clearly so beautiful.

After rolling around on the bed a few times, he propped himself back up and stared at Qing Zhu with clear, blinking eyes.

“Qingqing, change back to that form from just now.”

In the quiet room, his voice was soft and elongated, full of coquettishness. Anyone with a heart of stone would have been moved. Unfortunately, the creature before him didn’t even have a heart and didn’t fall for it.

“Dry your hair and go to sleep.” A cold, ruthless voice.

Wuyi flipped over angrily and sprawled out on the bed. The warm air in the room brushed against his fair arms and legs, making them feel a bit itchy. After a while, he was the first to give in, rolling over again while hugging the duvet and whimpering.

“I can’t sleep.”

“…”

Regardless of whether the other spoke, Wuyi pouted and said aggrievedly, “I’m afraid of having nightmares.”

Qing Zhu remained unmoved. “Courage is built through practice.”

“Then when I was little, why didn’t you help me practice it well?” Wuyi glared, his face full of displeasure. Grown-ups even bully their younger selves.

Qing Zhu was speechless. His crimson eyes glanced toward Wuyi; while no emotion could be seen, Wuyi felt as though he had been given a metaphorical eye-roll.

He sat up huffily.

“When you were little, you did nothing but cry and make a fuss. How could I train you?” Qing Zhu sounded quite exasperated. But before Wuyi could retort, Qing Zhu seemed to remember something and suddenly gave a very light chuckle.

That laugh startled Wuyi. Simultaneously, a very faint snort of laughter flashed through his mind—the one from his dream, emitted from above his head just before the tutor was thrown out the window. This sudden memory made it impossible for him to stay mad. After all, Qing Zhu had saved him.

His thick, curled lashes fluttered. Since the “tough” approach didn’t work, he went soft again, starting to whimper. “Qingqing, please. I beg you.”

“I don’t have a human body for the time being.” Qing Zhu let out a long sigh. If he didn’t know Wuyi so well, he might have wondered if the boy was playing dumb. But he knew Wuyi rarely noticed things on his own, so this persistent pestering was actually quite logical.

“Why not?”

“Because I have no physical body,” Qing Zhu said succinctly.

Wuyi blinked, finding this novel. “You need a physical body? Can’t you just transform?” He gestured a certain height, frowning as he prepared to question further, only to realize that Qing Zhu had indeed never transformed into a specific, concrete appearance—he was always a mysterious, hazy black mist with a general shape.

Wait!

A spark of realization hit him; he realized he had been tricked.

“But you said before that you’d have a human body after resting! You lied to me!”

He had played the fool and acted shamelessly at the Fu house for nothing, losing so much face, and in the end, there was nothing!

Seeing him sitting cross-legged on the bed with a face full of bitter resentment, Qing Zhu couldn’t help but laugh.

“Isn’t the ‘human form’ already here?”

As he spoke, his body extended like a sprouting branch. The dense black mist rapidly gathered into a tall, upright human figure. The head, shoulders, waist, and limbs were clearly visible, yet not a single detail within the mist could be discerned.

“How does this count as a person?” Wuyi’s face fell, and he threw a pillow at him.

Qing Zhu reached out to catch it and tossed it back onto the bed. “How does it not count?”

It seemed the items under the Fu family shrine had indeed given him enough power, as he now had the leisure to bicker with Wuyi over such childish topics.

“The ‘person’ I mean is the kind that can go out shopping with me, or help me sign in for classes,” Wuyi said with a face full of resentment. “If this thing goes out, people will definitely think they’ve seen a ghost.”

After his complaint, Qing Zhu remained silent for a long time, resting a hand on his chin as if seriously considering the problem.

Wuyi snorted and hopped off the bed to dry his hair. The figure behind him followed. Standing before the bathroom mirror, Wuyi saw the black mist figure beside him—tall and slender, over a head taller than himself.

The more he looked, the angrier he got. He blasted his hair with the dryer, and with his hair fluffy and frizzed out, he continued to brush his teeth with puffed-out cheeks.

“It’s not impossible to get a body.”

Hearing Qing Zhu speak, Wuyi didn’t react, letting the figure behind him continue.

“I just don’t know where it is right now.”

Realizing he wasn’t joking, Wuyi regained his spirit. He spat out the foam and said hurriedly, “Then how can we find it?”

“Don’t know.”

“…” He’s still teasing me.

After rinsing his mouth, he stomped back to bed. Before lying down, he remembered something. “Then what you said before about not needing to absorb mental energy for a while—that wasn’t a lie, was it?”

“No.”

That’s good.

Wuyi breathed a sigh of relief. “Then we can rest for a while. We can also think about how to find your body. Your body should have a lot of energy too, right?”

“Yes.” Qing Zhu pondered for a moment. “I can’t remember too much. Currently, I only remember the past with Fu An. We can start with him.”

Wuyi suddenly held his breath, his eyes wide. He asked cautiously, “But he’s already passed away. Are you going to… you know, summon his spirit?”

He was a coward; the thought of such a creepy scene made him instinctively afraid, yet his tone couldn’t help but carry a childish hint of expectation.

“…He’s been dead for ten years. How would I summon him?”

“Oh.” Wuyi wilted again.

…

It was nearly ten o’clock when Wuyi woke up. Qing Zhu wasn’t in the room, so he crawled out of bed to change. Raindrops from last night still clung to the windowpane, and the greenery outside emitted a faint fragrance after a night of watering, making him feel inexplicably good.

When he went downstairs, before he could call out a greeting, he heard the faint sound of conversation.

“Old Fu loved to write things down, but since it’s been so long, the records are a bit disorganized. There are quite a few. Let me help you look.”

Recognizing the voice, Wuyi ran down the stairs. “Auntie Cen.”

“Xiao Yi, you’re awake.”

Cen Yue saw him, and her polite smile turned warm. Her voice was no longer as cautious as it had been.

“What are you looking at?” Wuyi saw Qing Zhu’s crude black-mist human form sitting on the single-seat sofa, flipping through an old notebook. On the coffee table were dozens of notebooks in varying states of age.

“These are things Old Fu wrote, essentially diaries,” Cen Yue smiled. “We’re seeing if we can find any helpful information in them.”

Wuyi nodded. He had intended to offer his help, but as soon as his gaze fell upon the densely packed pages, he felt a wave of dizziness.

Qing Zhu glanced at him and knew exactly what he was thinking. He simply said, “Go have breakfast.”

“Right, you have to go to the shop later. I’ll have the driver come early,” Cen Yue remembered.

Wuyi looked at the time and didn’t dare delay, quickly heading to the dining table. The Fu residence’s hall was very spacious, and the dining room was separate from the living room. Consequently, as soon as he left, the living room fell back into its previous quiet, awkward atmosphere.

Cen Yue kept her smile as she took a notebook to scan, but she couldn’t ignore the figure diagonally opposite her. Knowing he was there, she had sent the nanny home to rest early this morning. Even the breakfast was made by her own hand. All morning, the house had been filled with this atmosphere, only becoming lively and relaxed for a moment when Wuyi came down.

Being in the same space as this being, even she felt a palpable pressure. After all, his identity was extraordinary.

“He and I met fourteen years ago,” Qing Zhu suddenly spoke.

Cen Yue looked up. Without needing a moment to process, she knew who “he” was.

“That really was quite early. Xiao Yi is only 19 this year; he hasn’t even had his birthday yet.”

“Yes.” Qing Zhu smiled, seemingly thinking of something. “My surname is Qing, given name Zhu. Wuyi calls me that normally. You are Fu An’s family; you may call me the same.”

Cen Yue understood his meaning, and her heart relaxed slightly. “Alright, Mr. Qing.”

After speaking, Qing Zhu lowered his eyes to continue reading the diaries, indifferent to whether Cen Yue had fully grasped the implications of his hint.

For a while, only the sound of turning pages filled the living room. Shortly after, Wuyi finished his breakfast and ran over. Seeing the quiet atmosphere, he was too embarrassed to interrupt. He was thinking of going upstairs to grab his things when he saw Qing Zhu stop flipping. A slender finger rested on a thin page; he seemed to have found something.