No One Is Allowed To Lay Eyes On The Evil God’s Precious Beauty - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Very Ugly Guardian Deity

After leaving the Sunlight Orphanage, Wu Yi spent his free time browsing posts about the Fengyue Company. He learned that the man he saw that day was the CEO, Fu Liuye, and the middle-aged woman was his mother, Cen Yue, the company’s largest shareholder.

During this period, rumors online grew more intense, and Fu Liuye’s Mind-Power gradually strengthened.

Last time Qing Zhu woke up, he mentioned the time would likely come within the next couple of days. Because of the charity work, Wu Yi had a good impression of this man. Calculating the timing, he specifically went to his small warehouse to pick out a curly-haired little sheep plushie he really liked to give to Fu Liuye.

Before heading out, Wu Yi spent ten minutes waking Qing Zhu. Once he was sure he was awake, he drove to Fengyue.

He parked in the underground garage, diagonally opposite Fu Liuye’s car. He cut the engine and began a long wait.

Minutes turned into hours. He was almost falling asleep when Fu Liuye finally appeared.

“Doesn’t he go home? They say the company is about to go bankrupt, why is he still working so hard?” Wu Yi yawned, bracing his legs against the seat. His slender calves were slightly indented by the pressure of his long socks. Bored, he rested his forehead on his knees and toyed with the bracelet on his wrist.

Qing Zhu, with limited energy, ignored his chatter.

Finally, past midnight, there was movement in the elevator lobby.

Watching Fu Liuye drive out of the garage, Wu Yi’s sleepiness vanished. He hurriedly pulled on his boots and started the car to follow.

Sensing his excitement, Qing Zhu couldn’t help but warn: “Drive slower.”

Wu Yi gripped the steering wheel, dissatisfied. “Are you doubting my skills? Didn’t you watch me get my license with a perfect score?”

“You forgot this car was just sent back from the repair shop the day before yesterday.”

“…” Wu Yi shut up.

Before he got his license, he had badgered Qing Zhu into buying him a car. When he finally got on the road, he flipped into a flowerbed within ten minutes. But he couldn’t be blamed—he was just too hyped up after delivering a doll.

Before he could find an excuse, the car ahead turned into a residential complex. Wu Yi wanted to follow, but the gate didn’t allow outside vehicles. He had to park on the roadside and wait for a resident to enter so he could sneak in behind them.

Once inside, Wu Yi stood confused at a fork in the road. Suddenly, a small blue butterfly shimmering with light fluttered its wings and flew in a specific direction.

He jogged after it and soon stopped in front of a small duplex villa.

The yard was pitch black, but a light was on in a second-floor window. It was indeed Fu Liuye’s home.

Waiting for the target to fall asleep, Wu Yi found a gazebo nearby and played mobile games. Every time he looked up impatiently, the window was still lit.

Why isn’t this man sleeping? I’m the one getting tired now.

Stuck on level five, he instinctively wanted to ask Qing Zhu for help, but when he looked up, the light in the window was finally out.

“He’s asleep!”

Qing Zhu moved slightly on his wrist, transforming into a dense cloud of black mist that shifted to his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Wu Yi skillfully fastened his cloak and pulled up the hood. As he stood, the cold autumn night wind blew into his cloak, making him shiver.

Speeding up his pace, Wu Yi’s leather boots and stylish socks flashed beneath the cloak. The hem fluttered, revealing his shallow brown shorts and pale skin that seemed to glow under the moonlight.

Sensing his haste, Qing Zhu said coldly, “I told you not to wear this.” He never understood why Wu Yi insisted on such impractical clothes, choosing to shiver rather than change.

Wu Yi whispered back, “I like this. Besides, I went out to eat with classmates today; I had to look nice.” All his friends said he looked like a little prince, very fashionable. Only an “antique” like Qing Zhu didn’t understand fashion.

Muttering to himself, they reached the back of the house. Wu Yi stepped onto a window ledge and reached up, but the second floor was still too high.

The black mist on his shoulder vanished; an icy touch encircled his wrists and easily pulled him up onto the second-floor balcony.

“Thanks, Qing-qing,” Wu Yi squeezed out a smile, feeling like a very “kind” person for not holding a grudge.

Qing Zhu settled back onto his shoulder, seemingly exhausted. Wu Yi didn’t dare delay; he pushed open the window and climbed in quietly.

The room was dark, save for a sliver of moonlight. Wu Yi was worried about waking Fu Liuye, but he soon realized the bed was empty—the blankets were still neatly folded.

Is he still awake?!

His heart hammered. Just as he was about to hide, he turned and saw a man slumped over a computer desk. The screen emitted a faint glow. The man’s breathing was shallow; he had clearly fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion.

So he’s here.

Wu Yi let out a sigh of relief. He walked to the desk and studied the stranger. Without his glasses, the man looked very young and handsome—easily as attractive as any celebrity.

“Honestly, if the company fails, he should just join the entertainment industry,” Wu Yi whispered.

As soon as he said it, Qing Zhu gave his cheek a small, sharp pinch. It hurt a little.

Snapping back to the task, he pulled the sheep plushie from his cloak and placed it on the desk. Worried it wouldn’t be effective enough, he pushed it closer until it was touching the man’s elbow.

A faint light spread from the sheep to Fu Liuye’s arm. The room took on a warm glow, and Wu Yi felt a sense of peace.

I hope your luck improves, Fu Liuye, you who does good things in secret.

Task finished, Wu Yi happily climbed back out the window. He nearly tripped over his cloak upon landing and ran back to his car. He immediately propped his foot up on the seat and pointed out a dark smudge on his sock to Qing Zhu.

“…” Qing Zhu tried to ignore him, but Wu Yi persisted. “You can just wash it.”

Wu Yi pouted, his blue eyes shimmering with tears.

Qing Zhu: “…I’ll buy you new ones.”

Wu Yi finally gave a satisfied smile. He folded the dirty part of the sock over—out of sight, out of mind—and happily started the car.

“I wonder who will be able to stand you in the future,” Qing Zhu murmured.

Missing the implication, Wu Yi was already mentally clearing out items from his online shopping cart.

…

The next morning, new users flooded a viral internet hashtag.

User @Height180: Is this some kind of cult? Everyone is just typing ‘received’ and ‘praying’.

User @DarkSkinnedAthlete: What ‘Plushie God’? I’ve never seen such a ridiculous cult.

User @WideSeaAndSky: If you don’t know, don’t talk trash. This thing really changes your luck. I was so broke I was going to jump into a river, then I got a major job offer the next day. Two years later, I’m getting promoted. Everything goes smooth now.

User @TwoBabiesAtHome: Non-believers, look at my turtle plushie. This thing is divine.

User @DarkSkinnedAthlete: Ew, wash it, it’s literally greasy now.

User @TwoBabiesAtHome: What do you know? This brings good luck. What if I wash the luck away?

User @HardWorkPaysOff: Makes sense. I’ve never washed mine either.

“…”

Fu Liuye sat at his desk with a splitting headache, scrolling through the viral posts. His gaze occasionally drifted to the smiling sheep plushie on his desk. It felt like a dream.

The item hadn’t been there when he fell asleep. His family hadn’t entered the room, and the security cameras showed no movement all night. Yet, here it was.

Even more bizarrely… a famous overseas company had suddenly messaged him, willing to sign a pre-IPO gambling agreement. While the investment put immense pressure on him, it provided the cash flow Fengyue needed to survive. They finally had a fighting chance.

It was all happening too smoothly. He remembered seeing these stories before but assumed they were marketing hoaxes. Now he realized many others had shared his experience.

Is there really a god in this world?

Fu Liuye’s firm materialism began to waver. He registered a new account and posted a question.

User @GuestFFF: Has anyone seen this Guardian Deity? What do they look like?

Within half a minute, someone replied.

User @TwoBabiesAtHome: Don’t be curious, young man. If the God doesn’t want to be seen, there’s a reason. Be careful not to anger the spirits.

User @LuckComeComeCome: Who knows? We all just wake up with dolls. No one has seen them while awake.

User @.. : I’ve seen them. They look extremely terrifying and ugly.

Fu Liuye’s hand on the mouse paused. A fuzzy memory from the previous night echoed in his mind.

He hadn’t been fully asleep; his mind was racing with anxiety about the company. Even in sleep, his consciousness lingered. He had heard the sound of a window opening.

As a rich fragrance drifted away, he had struggled to open his eyes. In the moonlight, he saw a figure in a black cloak. They were thin, like a young boy who hadn’t fully grown, tip-toeing onto the windowsill to leave.

As boots stepped onto the ledge, the cloak shifted, revealing a glimpse of pale calves squeezed by long socks. The skin was so white it seemed to glow in the moonlight. It was a slender, delicate frame—not scary or “ugly” at all.

Fu Liuye looked at the plushie again. He picked it up and caught a faint scent—the exact scent from his half-dream.

Making up his mind, he called the property management office.

“Hello. I need you to pull the security footage from around midnight last night.”