No One Is Allowed To Lay Eyes On The Evil God’s Precious Beauty - Chapter 29

Chapter 29: Let’s See How Many “Good Brothers” You Have…

Walking downstairs, Wu Yi could still feel the residual embarrassment so intense it made his toes curl.

“Why didn’t you remind me just now!” He vented crossly at Qing Zhu, his heart still burning with shame.

Qing Zhu hadn’t walked on solid ground like this in a long time. Though he found the pace slow, he wasn’t impatient—especially with a “furred animal” bristling and yapping beside him. It was quite amusing.

He chuckled softly. “Now you know how slow your reflexes are.”

Wu Yi glared at him, pouting. “I just woke up! How was I supposed to know?”

He hadn’t been resting well lately. As soon as he leaned against Qing Zhu and relaxed, he couldn’t stop feeling drowsy. That brief nap wasn’t nearly enough. When he woke up, he thought everything was settled and wanted to ask when they could go back to sleep.

Who would have guessed that the moment he turned his head, he’d see the Qin father and daughter staring at him in stunned silence as he knelt on the sofa, arms wrapped around Qing Zhu’s neck.

The memory made him want to go crazy all over again.

Qing Zhu was unfazed. “You’ve lost face plenty of times. Why care about this one?”

“I have not!” Wu Yi was on the verge of exploding again.

He didn’t want to stick to Qing Zhu anymore. He hopped down the stairs and saw that the massive living room looked like it had been bombed. The heavy security door lay overturned on the floor; the room was a total wreck.

Heavens, Qing Zhu did all this.

Qing Zhu, however, remained impassive. “I’ll send compensation another day.”

After the scene upstairs, Qin Donglin was now walking quite steadily, not even needing his cane. He followed behind with a jovial smile. “No matter, no matter. Just small items.”

Since he said so, Qing Zhu didn’t stand on ceremony. He glanced at the broken cabinet beneath the stairs.

Qin Nianyu stepped forward at the right moment. “Rest assured, we will explain things to the police. We won’t let this little friend be involved in any trouble.”

Wu Yi looked up at her, surprised to see a hint of softness on her usually cold, stern face.

“Mhm.” Qing Zhu had nothing left to say. He turned to Wu Yi. “Let’s go.”

“Wait.” Wu Yi remembered something. “Where’s Li Qingquan?”

Hearing the name, Qin Nianyu suddenly remembered and gestured for Qin Yifan to go upstairs. “I invited Master Li to sit in the attic. I almost forgot.”

Wu Yi looked at her gentle smile, feeling a bit skeptical. Li Qingquan wasn’t actually dismembered, was he?

Just as worry gripped him, hurried thumping came from upstairs. Li Qingquan ran down, panting. His eyes lit up when he saw Wu Yi, but when he caught sight of Qing Zhu behind him, his mouth dropped open like an egg.

“I told you not to rush. What are you running for?” Qin Yifan caught up from behind.

Li Qingquan let out a heavy sigh of relief and rolled his eyes at him. “How was I supposed to know if you were telling the truth? You’re the one who tricked me into the attic this morning. You think you have any credibility left?”

“It wasn’t like I wanted to do it,” Qin Yifan grumbled, feeling wronged, but he didn’t dare say more after catching Qin Nianyu’s gaze.

“Are you okay?” Wu Yi asked curiously.

Li Qingquan grinned. “I’m fine. Just felt cooped up all morning and was worried about you.” However… seeing the person behind Wu Yi, he realized his worry had been for nothing.

Seeing him unharmed, Wu Yi relaxed. Having retrieved what they needed from the Qins, they prepared to leave. Just as they sat in the car arranged by Qin Nianyu, Qin Donglin chased them out to the courtyard and called out to Qing Zhu.

“Sir, I have an unearned request.”

Qing Zhu was looking curiously at the car seats and the starlight-patterned ceiling lights. This was his first time sitting in a car in a physical human body. After observing for a while, he looked out the window. “Speak.”

Qin Donglin smiled. Despite being an elderly man in his eighties, he showed a child-like longing and sincerity before Qing Zhu. “My grandson was mischievous when he was young and accidentally touched the contents of that box. Since then, his health has gradually failed. If you have time, could you look at him? To see if there is any way to treat him.”

Qing Zhu glanced at the anxious young man by the gate but didn’t reply. Instead, he turned to Wu Yi. Wu Yi was fiddling with a gold bracelet that had appeared on his wrist at some point. His eyes were bright; he seemed to like it very much. Noticing the silence, he looked up and realized they were all staring at him.

“Ah?” Facing an elder, he always seemed a bit shy.

Qin Donglin gave a kind smile. Wu Yi realized what they were discussing and looked at Qing Zhu hesitantly. He didn’t speak, but his eyes blinked meaningfully—his intention was obvious.

Qing Zhu retracted his gaze. “I’ll visit the hospital when I have time.”

“Good.” Qin Donglin let out a massive sigh of relief, tears welling in his eyes. “Safe travels.”

As the car drove away, the image of the old man’s tearful face lingered in Wu Yi’s mind. “They really treat you well. They’ve really missed you all these years.”

“Will you forget me when you’re old?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Oh.”

“Why the sarcasm? I hate you.”

Soft laughter came from the back seat. Li Qingquan wanted to laugh but didn’t dare. He saw Wu Yi’s puffed-out cheeks in the rearview mirror and found it fascinating. Their usual dynamic was different from what he’d imagined; even Grandpa Qin, who had followed Qing Zhu for so many years, didn’t seem as close to him as Wu Yi was.

From this perspective… the kid really did seem special.

…

It wasn’t until they returned home that Wu Yi felt the reality of Qing Zhu merging with his body. Despite being exhausted after the day’s events, he couldn’t help circling around Qing Zhu. He watched him like a real human, holding a water cup on the sofa and using a small remote to flip through TV channels, a mountain of plushies piled next to him.

“Qing-qing, can you stay like this forever now?” He couldn’t help but squeeze in next to him, just as he used to when Qing Zhu was a black mist. They huddled together in one narrow spot.

Now that he could see Qing Zhu’s expression, he noticed the faint furrow in his brow—a look of utter helplessness. Great, so every time I proactively approached him to talk, he had this expression.

“Mhm.”

“You just ‘Mhm’ me!”

Qing Zhu looked at him, puzzled. “I said I can maintain human form from now on.”

Wu Yi choked, almost thinking he had accidentally spoken his thoughts aloud again. He stopped, but Qing Zhu became interested, leaning in close. “What are you thinking?”

Wu Yi pouted and let out a wronged huff. “Do you… do you find me annoying?”

“…”

Qing Zhu couldn’t figure out what he was upset about now, so he wisely remained silent.

In Wu Yi’s eyes, this silence was a confession. He immediately got flustered. “It’s because you never said anything before! And back then you didn’t have a fixed shape, that’s why I sat so close. If you’re uncomfortable, you have to tell me!” He shifted away slightly, but realizing Qing Zhu’s tall stature, he felt like he was the one in the wrong.

But he didn’t understand why; he just liked sticking to Qing Zhu wherever they went. Perhaps because for the last ten years, they had lived like this—Qing Zhu even wrapped around his wrist while he slept. There was no longer a clear distinction between them.

Qing Zhu didn’t seem to care that much. He casually flipped to the suspense drama Wu Yi had been watching and leaned back. “Watch TV. Don’t talk.”

Wu Yi looked up at his sharp jawline, pouted, and sat still. The show he usually loved had lost its charm. He pretended to watch the screen while secretly observing Qing Zhu out of the corner of his eye.

After a while, the man beside him closed his eyes. His face was devoid of emotion, looking like a regular person catching a nap. Once he had been closed-eyed for a while, Wu Yi grew bold enough to stare properly.

Truthfully, Qing Zhu was incredibly handsome. His features had an aggressive, sharp edge; his narrow eyes looked like long strokes of ink, and his lashes were long and distinct. The shadow cast by his brow bone gave him a mysterious, slightly wicked air when awake. From his straight nose to his thin lips, everything was exquisite.

Except… Wu Yi recalled the physiognomy lessons he’d “borrowed” from Li Qingquan recently. He compared the features in his mind and felt a shock.

Heavens, Qing Zhu has the face of someone ‘lacking in affection.’ No wonder his heart is so hard.

Suddenly, the bathroom door creaked open. Li Qingquan came out after his shower. Qing Zhu, who had been resting with closed eyes, opened them instantly without any transition. He locked eyes with Wu Yi, who was still staring at him with a furrowed, troubled brow.

Wu Yi’s eyes widened. He saw a faint hint of confusion in those unclouded, deep red eyes. Embarrassment flooded his brain. He stiffly retracted his gaze, slipped on his slippers, and ran into his room without looking back.

“I—I need to shower too!”

Qing Zhu: “…”

That night, Li Qingquan still slept on the sofa, but he felt a sense of unease. Watching a man who was nearly taller than the door walking around the house made him feel like he was trespassing.

Wu Yi buried himself in his soft bed after his shower. The stagnant atmosphere in the living room kept replaying in his head. He tossed and turned. When he heard Qing Zhu leave the bathroom, he sat up abruptly.

He stared at his bedroom door, feeling conflicted and too shy to speak. He actually wanted to ask Qing Zhu to sleep with him tonight. But before, it was just a mass of black mist; even when it took human form, it wasn’t quite the same. Now, Qing Zhu was a living, breathing person. Lying together… seemed a bit strange.

And would he fit on the bed? He stood up and measured, then thought of Qing Zhu’s towering height. It seemed like a squeeze. He regretted not buying a bigger bed—but back then, Qing Zhu had been impatient and said one person was enough.

Fine, I’ll pick out a new bed in a couple of days.

Just then, he heard the door to the guest room close. He realized Qing Zhu had gone straight to the other room to rest. He flopped onto the mattress, bouncing like a piece of jelly.

This Qing Zhu… he didn’t even say goodnight?

He grumbled to himself, wrapped himself tightly in the duvet, and counted Qing Zhu’s “crimes” in his head, deciding to punish him another day. Before he knew it, he fell into a deep sleep.

Feeling relaxed for the first time in a long while, he didn’t wake up until nearly afternoon the next day. The house was quiet. He got up, feeling refreshed. When he opened his door, the living room was empty.

“Li Qingquan?” He looked into the guest room, but it was empty too. Even Qing Zhu was gone.

Just as he was wondering, the electronic lock at the entrance beeped. Li Qingquan walked in, followed by Qing Zhu. Qing Zhu was wearing a long black coat; his long hair was tied back, the ends brushing his neck as he leaned over. Underneath, a black turtleneck highlighted his sharp, elegant shoulders. He looked much more modern than in his traditional robes, yet he still carried a sense of mystery.

Wu Yi stared at them. “Where did you go?”

“Ah, Mr. Qing said he wanted to walk around this morning. I was afraid he’d get lost, and I had to go out anyway, so I went with him.” After the outing, Li Qingquan seemed less tense around Qing Zhu. He even smiled and pulled a pair of slippers from a bag. “Please, put these on. See if they fit.”

Qing Zhu changed into the plush slippers and hung his coat on the rack with a domestic air.

Wu Yi: “…” Why does this scene feel so weird?

“Brunch.” Qing Zhu placed a paper bag on the dining table, gesturing for him to eat. Before Wu Yi could respond, he went to the bathroom, pumped some soap, and began washing his hands.

Wu Yi sat down with a complicated expression. Inside the bag was handmade wonton from a shop he loved, topped with seaweed and dried shrimp. It smelled delicious. He was indeed hungry and finished the bowl. Looking up, he saw Li Qingquan pulling various items from bags.

A laptop, a phone, a tablet—electronic gadgets. Dark-toned coats and down jackets in Qing Zhu’s style. A toothbrush, towels. Under a smartwatch box were two antique mechanical watches that were clearly expensive. There were even sets of daily necessities.

Wu Yi picked up an unopened facial cleanser. This was incredibly thoughtful.

Li Qingquan chuckled. “Grandpa Qin prepared all this. So considerate. We just went for a stroll and ran into Qin Nianyu bringing people to deliver things. We spent a long time picking these out.”

Wu Yi put the item back and eventually squeezed in next to Qing Zhu, who was turning on the new phone. Wu Yi felt a sudden spark of pride. “Do you know how to use that?”

The phone was the latest high-end model. In Qing Zhu’s hand, the large screen looked small. He looked down indifferently, skipping through the setup screens. “How many messages have I replied to for you? You tell me if I know how.”

Wu Yi pouted. “I taught you that.” He watched Qing Zhu skillfully download apps—the same ones Wu Yi had on his own phone. “You’re just copying me.”

Qing Zhu ignored him and opened WeChat, where a registration prompt popped up.

“Ha!” Wu Yi laughed. “You’re an undocumented person. You can’t even get a phone number.”

This time, Qing Zhu glanced at him, pulled a few items from his pocket, and waved them in front of Wu Yi. Wu Yi’s eyes widened. He grabbed them and saw an ID card and a SIM card.

“Where did you get an ID?”

He knew Qing Zhu had “identity documentation” as the black mist, but it wasn’t truly his own. Strictly speaking, he had fabricated an existence, and Wu Yi’s expenses over the years came from a mysterious account. Now, Qing Zhu had turned the fake into reality.

He watched Qing Zhu install the SIM card, register his accounts, and even add him as a friend. Then, Qing Zhu opened the laptop and received a file from a friend named [Goodness is Like Water].

Wu Yi leaned over to watch. After a while, he got tired and rested his head on Qing Zhu’s shoulder, feeling drowsy again.

Qin Donglin’s description was much more detailed than Fu An’s diary. It seemed he had recorded everything he could remember. According to his writing, he was the first servant Qing Zhu took in. His experience was similar to Fu An’s; he was starving during a famine when a “celestial” in black appeared, gave him food, and despite his pleas to stay, sent him away to study and learn a trade.

At that time, I only thought of repaying his kindness. If Sir hadn’t ignored my protests and sent me to study, I would likely be an illiterate man today, let alone have the estate I have now…

Wu Yi’s eyes were hazy. Reading this, he felt Grandpa Qin’s nostalgic sentiment. Realizing he was currently in a similar “being cared for” state, he felt a bit guilty.

Further on, Qing Zhu took in a young boy who had been beaten by his family and lived in pigpens and chicken coops.

When I first saw A-Feng, he reeked of filth, his skin covered in scrapes, and his eyes lacked any light. Sir initially didn’t want to deal with him, but A-Feng proactively called out to him. He was smart; after watching us for a while, he seemed to guess Sir’s extraordinary abilities. He said he hadn’t done anything bad in his life, but since birth, his father had named him ‘Mad Dog’ and treated him like livestock. He said a lot then; I don’t know which sentence touched Sir, but in the end, we took him with us.

Reading this, Wu Yi’s brow furrowed. His heart felt tight, and he found it hard to breathe. Qing Zhu looked at him, his hand landing on Wu Yi’s side, tapping gently. “Get off.”

Wu Yi snapped out of it, looking confused. “What?”

“You’re weighing down my shoulder.” Qing Zhu lifted Wu Yi’s head and adjusted his position.

“I’m not that heavy!” Wu Yi’s attention was quickly diverted. He bickered with him for a bit. When he looked back at the document, the tension and unease from before had vanished.

The content was long. It was clear Qin Donglin had been keeping records for a long time and had organized them to hand over. By the time they finished, Wu Yi’s body was stiff. He sat up and stretched, but his mind was still spinning with the content.

After A-Feng, they met a child who had been sold. Qin Donglin called him “Ji Ling” (Clever), writing that he was very good at dealing with people and was kind to everyone. Further on, Qin Donglin met a soulmate named Song Cheng, a simple and honest man who had been bullied in his hometown. After following them, Song Cheng became the one who assisted Qin Donglin in making decisions.

Wu Yi remembered that this should be near the end, as Fu An’s diary only mentioned five people. But Qin Donglin’s record had one more—someone with the same name as him, called “Da Dong,” who was usually quiet but occasionally did petty things that made people dislike him.

[We did whatever Sir ordered, so most of the time we didn’t actually see him. Counting it up, Da Dong was probably the one who troubled Sir the most. He was too greedy and wanted a piece of everything. That’s why when A-Feng suggested parting ways after Sir fell into slumber, a big part of why I agreed was because I didn’t trust Da Dong.]

After finishing the past events, Qin Donglin wrote some personal thoughts about hearing of Fu An’s passing.

[Fu An stayed by Sir’s side for the shortest time, but he was naturally kind and was the most respectful and reverent toward Sir back then…]

These words seemed written for himself, filled with grief and regret over Fu An’s death. He had truly seen Fu An as a younger brother. Their separation had been a forced choice, and now, years later, everything had changed.

Wu Yi had always been easily moved to tears. Reading this made his heart ache. “They were all so good to you.”

The record also detailed many fun stories from the past. Seeing them try various ways to make Qing Zhu happy gave Wu Yi complicated feelings. He scrolled to the bottom of the tens of thousands of words.

He waited for Qing Zhu to say something sentimental, but the man simply closed the document and the laptop, saying calmly: “So, there were six people.”

Wu Yi: “…” He had almost forgotten. This man was “iron-hearted” with the face of someone lacking affection. He only cared about business; why would he care about other people’s feelings?

“Mhm, I saw.” Wu Yi said irritably.

“Fu An’s diary only wrote about five,” Qing Zhu stated.

Wu Yi didn’t want to reply, but hearing this, he paused. “Eh? Did we miss one?”

Qing Zhu gave him a look of calm certainty. The meaning was clear. Wu Yi wanted to snap back but instead said: “Fine, I know you’re amazing and wouldn’t miss it. Then what’s the reason? Did Uncle Fu forget someone? Or was it because… someone was so annoying he didn’t want to write about them?”

Qing Zhu placed the laptop back on the coffee table. “Fu An was not a petty or impulsive person.”

He had been recording these things for fifty years precisely to ensure that when Qing Zhu woke up two centuries later, he could recall the past through these notes. He wouldn’t have let personal emotions interfere.

Wu Yi felt his head throbbing. He rubbed his messy hair and leaned back. Suddenly, he remembered something. “Uncle Fu’s notebooks… they were all loose-leaf, weren’t they?”

Qing Zhu looked at him, silent.

Encouraged, Wu Yi continued: “Not exactly loose-leaf, but they were bound with thread. Did you notice? If you pull hard on both sides, you can actually tear out the middle pages without leaving a trace.”

He had used those notebooks as a child. His greatest joy was tearing a page out from one side and then finding the corresponding page on the other side to pull them both out cleanly. But that was a child’s game; Fu An wouldn’t have done that.

Qing Zhu lowered his gaze. “Fu An was meticulous. He specifically separated each introduction by page count to make it easy to add notes later.”

“That’s it then!” Wu Yi’s eyes lit up. “Do you think someone secretly tore out the middle pages?”

“It’s possible.” Qing Zhu was a bit helpless but couldn’t resist Wu Yi’s expectant expression. He said softly, “Very smart.”

Wu Yi immediately beamed.

Unfortunately, after checking Fu An’s diary again, they found that two pages in the middle had indeed been removed. But because so much time had passed, Cen Yue couldn’t identify a suspect. “We moved many times with those things. Anyway, no one else ever saw them.”

Wu Yi compared the descriptions. The one missing from Fu An’s record was Song Cheng.

“But Grandpa Qin said Song Cheng was honest and upright. Why would he…” Wu Yi’s face was tense. This felt surreal. “Even if we can’t be sure who it was, no one would be bored enough to break into someone’s house just to tear up paper. This person must have a huge connection to Song Cheng.”

After reading Qin Donglin’s notes, Wu Yi sympathized with Song Cheng’s hardships and thought he seemed like a good person based on their shared stories. Why would he deliberately seek an opportunity to tear his own name out of Fu An’s notes?

And how did he know Fu An was “Little Fu”? Did he recognize him before doing this? Could time really change a person so completely, turning a simple, sincere person into someone so calculating? Wu Yi couldn’t understand; it felt terrifying to his core.

…

They had a general grasp of the situation. Years ago, the group had split up in the South. A-Feng and Fu An had said they were heading North, while the others hadn’t specified. Now that Fu An and Qin Donglin were both in Yunling, A-Feng—who always did what he said—was likely in this area as well.

At night, Wu Yi circled areas on a map, but the scope was too large. “Ugh, can’t you just sense where they are? That would be so much easier. We could just fly there and get your powers back in a few days.”

Qing Zhu sat on the sofa after his shower. A pair of thin-framed glasses reflected the glow of his laptop. It was a very handsome sight, but to Wu Yi, it looked incredibly strange.

“No. Before falling asleep, I cut the connection between them to prevent accidents.”

“Why would you do that?” Wu Yi found it odd. “And I forgot to ask—why did you divide your power among them in the first place?”

Qing Zhu looked up, seemingly thinking. Finally, he said: “There was a time when my power went out of control. I couldn’t always restrain myself. I chose to sleep for a while and release the power from my body to avoid causing irreparable harm while I wasn’t rational.”

Wu Yi saw he didn’t want to talk about it, so he just whispered: “A ‘while’ was two hundred years. You’re not allowed to sleep that long again. Otherwise, when you wake up, I’ll be an old man.”

Qing Zhu was silent for two seconds. He looked at Wu Yi lying on the bed, kicking his feet back and forth. The silence he’d planned took a turn. “Mhm. I won’t.”

…

Wu Yi spent the next few days in leisure, acting like the king of the house. He graciously taught Qing Zhu how to use electronic devices—though Qing Zhu mostly figured it out himself while Wu Yi just offered occasional comments. Still, Wu Yi felt he deserved all the credit.

As school approached, his mood dipped, but then he received Shen Yue’s party invitation. He excitedly went to his walk-in closet to find an outfit. Li Qingquan had moved into the Fu house to read palms for Cen Yue’s friends, so Wu Yi had no one to share with. After trying on several outfits, he ran to the living room to show Qing Zhu.

“How’s this? which one is better?”

Qing Zhu was still wearing those wire-framed glasses. He glanced up. “The red one.”

“Really?” Wu Yi ran back to the room and looked in the mirror. The red outfit, once tied with the other one, now seemed to sparkle with extra charm after Qing Zhu’s praise. Okay, red it is.

He got ready to leave but noticed Qing Zhu was still in the same position staring at the screen. “What are you doing all day that keeps you so focused?”

“Studying for my driver’s license.”

“Ah?” Wu Yi thought he misheard. “You’re taking the driving test!”

Qing Zhu was noncommittal. Wu Yi leaned over and saw him actually scrolling through practice questions. A mock test ended, showing a perfect score of 100.

“…”

Wu Yi looked at the screen, then at Qing Zhu’s stern face. He felt a strong sense of incongruity. Seeing Qing Zhu about to start another round, he asked impulsively: “I’m going to dinner. Do you want to come with me?”

Qing Zhu looked at him calmly. “Is it appropriate?”

The answer was unexpected. Wu Yi thought he would just refuse, but this response sounded as if he’d been waiting for the invitation. Without much thought, Wu Yi listed the people attending and decided it was fine. “Shen Yue said I could bring friends. It’s okay to bring you. Otherwise, you’ll be bored at home. After it’s over, we can even walk around a bit. We haven’t gone shopping together yet.”

He had long imagined going out with Qing Zhu. Now he could finally fulfill that wish.

Qing Zhu stood up gracefully and nodded. “Alright. Let’s go see your ‘good brothers’.”

Wu Yi gave him a suspicious look. Those words sounded a bit sarcastic, yet Qing Zhu’s face was expressionless, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking.

However, as they left and he watched the tall man in a long coat duck slightly to walk out the door, Wu Yi felt a premonition. He had a feeling that if Qing Zhu showed up, the atmosphere tonight would become very strange.