No One Is Allowed To Lay Eyes On The Evil God’s Precious Beauty - Chapter 23

Chapter 23: Qing-qing, I Missed You

It wasn’t until the headlights dimmed that Wu Yi lowered his hand and clearly saw the figure standing before him.

It was a middle-aged woman in a suit. Her short hair was sharp and professional, and her upturned eyes glinted with a keen, piercing light. She radiated a powerful, imposing presence.

Qin Nianyu.

The name immediately flashed in Wu Yi’s mind.

Qin Nianyu walked up to him and stopped. After a cold, sweeping scan, her gaze settled on his face. She repeated the question: “Who are you?”

In that instant, Wu Yi’s heart raced. He finally understood the weight of what Qing Zhu had told him earlier. There was a power emanating from this woman that clearly didn’t belong to her, making him feel uneasy and mentally scattered.

“I’m looking for Qin Yifan,” Wu Yi found an excuse, gradually regaining his nerve. “He owes me money and hasn’t paid me back.”

Qin Nianyu knit her brows, staring at him seriously for several seconds. Once she seemed satisfied he wasn’t lying, she walked past him into the courtyard, leaving behind a few icy words.

“Wait here.”

It wasn’t until her figure vanished from sight that Wu Yi suddenly exhaled in relief. He tucked his hands behind his back, his cold right hand covering the bracelet on his other wrist. Feeling its chill helped calm his nerves.

A moment later, a familiar figure came running out of the courtyard.

Qin Yifan hadn’t even put on a coat. His face was livid; when he saw it was Wu Yi, his expression soured as if he’d swallowed a fly.

“Seriously? Are you mental? You’re stalking me!”

“I am not. I already knew you lived here,” Wu Yi countered, showing no panic. In fact, he felt relieved.

Qin Yifan scratched his head, visibly manic. “When did I ever owe you money? You just got me chewed out!”

Wu Yi felt a bit guilty but didn’t show it. “Emotional distress fees. You didn’t treat me to dinner, so I had to take measures.”

“No, you—”

Qin Yifan was speechless. As he spoke, he kept glancing back toward the house as if fearing something. Wu Yi followed his gaze and caught a glimpse of someone standing by the first-floor living room window, watching them.

Was it Qin Nianyu?

Realizing this, a chill ran down Wu Yi’s spine.

“Look, I really can’t invite you inside for dinner. My family has very strict rules.”

“I can’t tell,” Wu Yi said honestly. Looking at Qin Yifan, one would never guess that “family discipline” was a concept that existed in his household.

Qin Yifan was momentarily choked up by the jab. “Believe what you want. You want emotional distress money? I’ll give it to you at school another day. Don’t just stand here; do you want me to freeze to death?” He rubbed his arms, shivering.

Seeing he couldn’t push further and fearing that lingering would attract more attention from inside, Wu Yi compromised and left. Qin Yifan didn’t look back as he bolted back into the house.

As the night deepened, the wind rustled the trees and bushes with a haunting sound. Wu Yi rubbed the cold bracelet on his wrist, not feeling particularly afraid. Once he was far from the Qin villa, the low pressure and sense of foreboding finally dissipated.

However, even as he found A-Mu waiting for him and sat silently in the car for the return trip, his heart still trembled when he recalled those sharp, piercing eyes.

“You’re home. Go upstairs and get some sleep. Kids need to sleep early,” A-Mu said with a grin as he rolled down the window. As Wu Yi turned to leave, A-Mu added, “And next time, don’t call me ‘Uncle.’ I’m only thirty-three.”

Wu Yi nodded obediently and ran into the building.

Back in the safety of his home, he finally relaxed. He collapsed onto the thick, soft rug for half an hour before regaining enough strength to find clothes and wash up.

Qing Zhu remained silent. Wu Yi didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried. He hadn’t encountered Qin Nianyu while Qing Zhu was “awake,” so it shouldn’t have caused him any harm. After all, Qing Zhu had said that when he isn’t there, the bracelet is just a dead object.

In the bathroom, steam rose as the water washed over his cold body, slowly bringing warmth back to his limbs. Wu Yi washed himself until he smelled sweet, then tucked himself into bed. He buried his face in the soft down pillow and let out a long, muffled sigh.

Turning his head, he saw a small snake radiating black mist coiled around the bedside lamp. He didn’t know how long it had been watching him.

His cheeks were still flushed a faint, ambiguous red from the steam. Startled, Wu Yi’s eyes flickered away. “When did you wake up?”

“A minute ago.”

Those crimson eyes stared at him, then turned away as the snake curled into a ball.

Wu Yi reached out to scoop him onto the bed, placing him next to his pillow, then tucked his cold hands back under the warm covers.

Tonight’s plan hadn’t gone smoothly, but in this rare moment of quiet, he didn’t want to dwell on it. Instead, he grew curious about something else.

“Qing-qing, when you get your body back, will you still be this cold?”

Qing Zhu replied, “How can a human body be cold?”

“So your body will be like mine? Warm? Will it be easy to get hurt? What does your body look like? Does it look like your manifestations? But the mist is always so thick, I can’t see clearly…”

He had far too many questions.

After a long pause, Qing Zhu picked a few to answer. “Like yours. Injuries heal. It’s just like that.”

“Okay. But is your human form your actual appearance? Or is it crafted?” Wu Yi rolled over, hugging the blanket, his cheek pressed into the pillow so his lips looked pouty.

This time, Qing Zhu was silent for a long while. Then he said, “I don’t know what I look like.”

“Eh?”

Wu Yi was getting sleepy, struggling to keep his eyes open. He made a soft, questioning sound.

“I have no body. The human form is shaped by my power; it counts as my original appearance.” Qing Zhu paused. Seeing Wu Yi’s eyes drift open with a questioning look when he stopped, he continued, “When shaping it, I simply follow my heart. I didn’t deliberately change anything.”

Wu Yi understood. “Then you must look like that. I’ll have to see if you’re as good-looking as me.”

He had always been confident—striking features, a beautiful face, and a well-proportioned frame. He had been a “clothes hanger” since he was a child.

Qing Zhu didn’t have much of a grasp on beauty or ugliness, but at that moment, he actually let out a light chuckle.

“Probably not as pretty as you.”

It was a rare compliment. Wu Yi blinked sleepily and hummed. “Of course. I’m the best looking.”

Sensing his exhaustion, Qing Zhu stopped talking. He watched as Wu Yi’s eyes finally closed and his breathing became even and light. The boy was a small huddle under the blanket, looking like he hadn’t grown up at all.

Once the room had been quiet long enough to ensure Wu Yi was fully asleep, the black mist began to elongate and expand, hovering phantom-like over the bed. Two arms slowly formed within the mist, adjusting the person on the bed into a supine position before moving up to rest lightly near his temples.

Qing Zhu closed his eyes and saw everything that had happened that night.

The images shook slightly—that was Wu Yi’s body trembling. He had always been timid; though he had learned to feign courage as he grew up, he couldn’t fool Qing Zhu.

In the vision, the Qin villa seemed even more massive, like a ghostly shadow standing among the midnight trees. That decisive woman stood not far away, her sharp, cold face radiating intense hostility.

Opening his eyes again, Qing Zhu withdrew his hands. He saw the person on the bed look uneasy, turning his head to bury his face in the pillow and curling his body into a defensive posture.

He was scared.

Qing Zhu wanted to laugh, but then he remembered Wu Yi was asleep and wouldn’t open his eyes to argue with him. After hesitating for two seconds, he reached out and gently stroked that fluffy head.

Feeling the chill of his palm, the little guy shrank his neck. But just as Qing Zhu instinctively went to withdraw his hand, Wu Yi rolled over and proactively pressed his face against it, seemingly unafraid of this winter chill.

Really…

Qing Zhu looked at this clingy creature, his heart filled with a myriad of emotions.

…

By the time he woke up, Wu Yi had adjusted himself. He wasn’t one to hold grudges; he forgot both happy and unhappy things quickly. Elders used to call him “heartless,” but he didn’t see it as a bad thing. Perhaps because he had Qing Zhu as a point of comparison, he felt these events were minor—tiny specks in a hundred-year lifespan.

Wu Yi cleaned himself up, put on new clothes, and donned a new watch, regaining his daily drive.

“Since you aren’t in a hurry, Qing-qing, I think we don’t need to go back to the Qin house yet. Let’s look for other suitable targets first. Once we’ve gathered some Mind-Power to make you stronger, we’ll go back for your body.”

Qing Zhu let out a snort but didn’t argue.

In the following days, Wu Yi spent his time sneakily observing the people around him, but he couldn’t find a suitable target. He occasionally had Qing Zhu sense Xie Jingchuan’s Mind-Power, but the result was always the same: it was fading daily, now almost non-existent.

Upon asking, Wu Yi learned that Xie Jingchuan’s scholarship had been disbursed and he’d found a high-paying part-time job. He had paid off the phone in one go, and Qin Yifan had kept his word, loading five thousand yuan onto his meal card. Xie Jingchuan had then sold the phone for a good amount of cash.

It seemed he really didn’t need to change his current situation. Wu Yi wasn’t sure if he was happy about it; honestly, he didn’t enjoy seeing people in a pitiful state.

As they dawdled, the end of the year arrived. School was letting out, and Wu Yi became busy with finals week. Qing Zhu took this opportunity to rest officially, preparing to fully absorb the power he had gathered from the Fu family to prevent future mishaps.

Qing Zhu remained asleep until Wu Yi’s winter break officially began. With the bracelet at home, Wu Yi had nothing to do but keep an eye on the news regarding the Qin family. He had added Qin Yifan on social media recently; the boy had sent him a “Red Packet,” which Wu Yi hadn’t accepted, but he used the connection to “stalk” Qin Yifan’s updates daily.

And he actually found an opportunity.

Before the Lunar New Year, the entire Qin family was flying abroad for a vacation. In other words, there would be no one home. Wu Yi rubbed his hands together, ready to go back to his “old trade.”

During the days of waiting, he spent his free time at the shop. One day, he ran into Cen Yue bringing friends for afternoon tea. Under her warm invitation, he sat down with them, still wearing his apron.

The shop uniforms were custom-made—a brown beret paired with a bear-themed apron. It matched the dessert shop’s warm, healing atmosphere perfectly.

“So this is Xiao Yi! He really is beautiful,” the group of elegant women chatted, naturally veering into gossip. “Does the baby have a partner? You must be very popular at school.”

Wu Yi’s cheeks turned rosy, and he just smiled at them politely.

“Oh, he’s in no rush for that,” Cen Yue smoothed things over. “We’re going to a new restaurant later. Xiao Yi, do you want to come?”

“I still have three cakes to make.” Wu Yi’s skills were excellent. Many people had tried to order “manager-handcrafted” items before, but he’d been too busy. Now that he had taken a few orders, he couldn’t break his word.

“That’s fine. Come stay at the house for a few days before the New Year. Auntie has a little surprise for you.”

“What is it?” Wu Yi loved surprises and cheered up instantly.

“I’ll tell you then,” Cen Yue said, patting his head with a happy smile.

Wu Yi didn’t ask further. He sat for a while before getting up to help out, his mind racing with guesses, though he couldn’t pin anything down. Auntie Cen never considered expensive things “important” gifts—she gave them away casually. So this time…

Before he could figure it out, the group prepared to leave. Wu Yi naturally waived their bill, but Cen Yue waited until her friends had left to tell him one last thing.

“In two days, it’s Lao Fu’s death anniversary. Mr. Qing mentioned before that he wanted to go with us. Remember to tell him the date.” Her voice lost some of its lightness as she spoke.

Wu Yi wanted to say that Qing Zhu had been asleep for over half a month, but seeing Auntie Cen’s melancholy expression, he didn’t want to make her mood worse. He just nodded. “I know.”

Cen Yue smiled and patted his shoulder before leaving.

After she left, Wu Yi went into the kitchen with a heavy heart to start mixing batter. His gaze drifted to the bracelet on his left wrist from time to time, his mood inexplicably somber. He hadn’t figured out how to tell Auntie Cen about Qing Zhu’s slumber, but unexpectedly, when he returned home late that night with an aching back, Qing Zhu was awake.

After showering, Wu Yi came out in cotton long-sleeved pajamas, a cream-yellow towel draped over his head, squinting with exhaustion. He blinked and saw a dense black mist in human form standing by his bed. He nearly jumped out of his skin before realizing it was Qing Zhu.

“You’re awake.” His voice was soft and full of weariness as he instinctively leaned in.

The cool mist enveloped him, spreading slowly as he drew near, looking as if he were being circled in an embrace.

“Qing-qing, you don’t seem as cold anymore.” Wu Yi reached out to touch the chilly mist, moving up until he felt the shape of an arm.

Qing Zhu moved slightly, his large, long-fingered hand catching Wu Yi’s shoulder and pulling him back a bit. “Dry your hair.”

“Oh.”

Wu Yi walked to the bed and found the hairdryer, blowing his hair until it was warm and fluffy. He had worked until ten tonight; the streets had been empty, and he’d felt strangely aggrieved on the way home. Now that he had someone to vent to, he found himself unable to say a word. Normally, he would have thrown a tantrum.

Seeing the dark shadow still standing by the window, he couldn’t help but say, “Qing-qing, come here.”

He saw Qing Zhu turn his head. The long hair at his sides swayed slightly, making Wu Yi vaguely recall the sensation of cool strands falling on his cheeks. When was that?

Before he could figure it out, the shadow reached the bedside.

“Do you want to come in and lie down?” Another thought occurred to him. He proactively lifted a corner of the blanket, inviting Qing Zhu in.

Crimson eyes swept over the bed. “No. You sleep.”

“Oh.” Wu Yi was a bit dejected. He wrapped himself in the blanket and scooted closer to Qing Zhu’s side, pressing against him.

Outside, snow began to fall softly. Inside, it was warm and quiet. Wu Yi hadn’t seen Qing Zhu for over half a month; he didn’t need to say anything. Just being with him like this brought peace to his heart.

But vaguely, he sensed that Qing Zhu was different than before. His frame was taller, the mist was denser and heavier, and he lacked his usual ease, becoming even more taciturn.

Wu Yi curled his body up, his head resting near Qing Zhu, using the blanket to cover the lower half of his face. He said in a muffled voice, “I missed you.”

Qing Zhu seemed moved; he shifted ever so slightly. After a long time, a cold palm rested on the back of Wu Yi’s head, long fingers brushing through his hair as if he were thinking about something.

“Auntie Cen said the day after tomorrow is Uncle Fu’s death anniversary.”

“Mhm. I know.”

Wu Yi pulled the blanket down a bit, looking up at him. “Have you absorbed all that power?”

“Yes.”

“Are you even more powerful than before?” he asked eagerly.

Qing Zhu guessed what he was thinking and said, “Only a little.”

“Okay.” Wu Yi’s eyes drooped again. It took him a while to rally his spirits and tell Qing Zhu his plan. “We’ll go next week. No one will be home; it should be easy to sneak in.”

He had planned this for a long time and was worried about potential issues. He expected Qing Zhu to say something as he usually did, but this time, he only gave a low “Mhm” without offering any opinion.

“Is it because my plan is so thorough?” Wu Yi couldn’t help but fish for a compliment.

Qing Zhu said, “It’s not bad.” Before Wu Yi could be happy for long, his head was given a heavy pat. “Sleep.”

Qing Zhu rose, and his figure vanished, transforming back into the bracelet and dropping gently onto the nightstand. The light from the lamp cast a halo around the black jade. Wu Yi couldn’t stop smiling; he reached out to grab it, slipped it onto his slender wrist, then folded his arms in front of him, curling into a small ball as he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

…

On the day of the anniversary, the sky was gloomy, making one’s skin crawl with a chill. Wu Yi followed the others up to the mountain peak, panting as they reached the designated spot. He watched Auntie Cen and Fu Liuye arrange their offerings, then turned and lightly tapped the bracelet twice.

“Qing-qing, we’re here.”

With no one else around, Qing Zhu manifested into human form, standing before the gravestone. Cen Yue and Fu Liuye had finished what they wanted to say. Looking at the dark shadow, although they couldn’t see any details, they could feel him studying the photo and the inscription on the stone.

“Was the grave moved?”

Hearing Qing Zhu’s question, Cen Yue nodded quickly. “Yes. He was originally buried at home, and then… is this place not suitable?”

“This place is good.”

Cen Yue breathed a sigh of relief.

Wu Yi stood to the side, feeling a bit cold from the wind, and tucked his hands into his pockets. Qing Zhu leaned down, his long hair falling at his sides. A wisp of black mist passed through the name “Fu An” on the stone and shot straight into the ground, re-emerging after a long while.

None of them understood what he was doing until Qing Zhu stood straight again and moved away from the grave, signaling his departure.

“Mr. Qing, did you see something?” Cen Yue asked hurriedly.

Qing Zhu: “Natural causes. No foul play. He passed peacefully.”

Cen Yue froze, her eyes suddenly turning red. “None of us were home then. His health had always been poor; he put too much energy into the family business. Even as he got older, he couldn’t sit still. When we came home and found him motionless on the bed, we truly thought someone had harmed him…”

She knew she shouldn’t say these things to Mr. Qing, but the surge of emotion was hard to suppress. After she uncontrollably recounted everything and was about to apologize, she saw the shadow was still standing there.

“You should have investigated the specific cause of death yourselves, you just didn’t want to believe it,” Qing Zhu’s voice was indifferent. “I came to confirm this. You can be at ease now.”

Cen Yue covered her mouth, her eyes wet and red. She looked heartbroken, yet there was a sense of release and relaxation. “Thank you.”

Fu Liuye supported her, his tense expression softening with a touch of melancholy.

Wu Yi felt a bit lost. “Auntie Cen.”

Cen Yue wiped her tears and gave him a bashful smile. “Auntie is fine. Don’t worry, I’ll be okay in a bit.”

After descending the mountain, Wu Yi’s mood also became heavy. Cen Yue and Fu Liuye still wanted to say a few words to Uncle Fu, so they left first.

On the car ride back, Wu Yi couldn’t help but touch the bracelet, recalling the conversation on the mountain. “Qing-qing, did you go there just to analyze that?” He found it a bit strange.

Qing Zhu hummed. “Fu An did many things for me over those years. If he had died a wrongful death, I would have avenged him.”

Wu Yi was stunned, opening his mouth but not knowing what to say. He habitually wanted to say that Qing Zhu was really good to these people, but Uncle Fu had accompanied Qing Zhu for so many years after all, even spending his entire life protecting the things he left behind. Such a bond was indeed precious.

But thinking of this, a nameless fear rose in his heart.

“Qing-qing, you won’t fall back into a slumber, will you? What if you fall asleep again after we gather all your power?”

There was no one else by Qing Zhu’s side now; surely he wouldn’t be expected to preserve him? He didn’t have that kind of ability, and more importantly… what if Wu Yi was already dead when Qing Zhu woke up again?

Qing Zhu was not human; a hundred years was but a blink of an eye to him, but to Wu Yi, it was his entire existence.

After seeing Fu An’s grave, Wu Yi truly felt the difference between himself and Qing Zhu. This comparison couldn’t help but breed a sense of dread.

Hearing the tremor in his voice, the bracelet tightened slightly. A gentle touch fell on the back of his pale hand, like an invisible comfort.

“Don’t be afraid. You won’t die.”