Ran Away With a Baby After Screwing Up the System Task - Chapter 2

I was a “zero” to begin with, anyway.

“Stop scolding me! Isn’t being a ‘gate-closing’ disciple good?” Cen Moyu had collected his disciple uniform. The colors of the Qingheng Sect followed a “what you see is what you get” system, where one could discern a person’s rank and status within the sect by the depth of the hue. “This way, I am one step closer to completing the mission.”

The System remained silent.

“Jobs are really hard to find nowadays.”

Before transmigrating, Cen Moyu had been scammed out of all his money. It was difficult enough to find work back home even before graduating, so he was actually quite pleased right now. “Little System, you have no idea. Competition for security guard positions is fierce these days. Many university graduates do not even make the cut.”

The System was somewhat at a loss for words: “So, do you want to stay here?”

“Well, no. I still have to go back. There is no internet here.”

The System asked again: “Is your only relative, your father, not planning to send you off for an arranged marriage? What are you going back for?”

“Don’t you want me to go back?” Cen Moyu still remembered how, when he first transmigrated into a bird, he would fluctuate between avian and human forms. If not for the System’s voice echoing in his head, he probably would have needed many more days to adjust.

In a sense, the System’s missions gave him something to do.

“That is your wish,” the System replied.

It would flip between being irritable and cold, but Cen Moyu had grown used to it. “Alright, then. I will finish your mission, you will level up, and I will go home. We both have something to look forward to.”

The Qingheng Sect was the greatest sect in the world. Even the disciples responsible for sweeping had their own dedicated living quarters. Guarding the mountain gate was considered an important task, and Cen Moyu had even been assigned a single room.

He muttered to himself the whole way. Many sect disciples watched him as if he were a fool.

Soon, news spread that this year’s recruitment had yielded a beautiful gate-closing disciple.

Perhaps because the previous gate-closing disciple had left in such a hurry, Cen Moyu received no training and started his post the very next day.

It was the season of spring peaches, and the blossoms were in full bloom. Cen Moyu’s workstation consisted of a long table made of chicken-wing wood, atop which sat a clock-in dharma instrument. Only if the instrument failed to display a disciple’s name would Cen Moyu need to perform a manual check.

The work was light and simple, but the hours were long. Old Master Wang, his shift partner, was always drunk.

Cen Moyu’s working hours were often extended without reason, leaving him constantly drowsy.

He was not particularly fond of this world to begin with. He felt that everyone spoke in a refined, archaic manner that he could only understand through the System’s translation. This often led to jokes due to literal interpretations.

The news that the gate-closing disciple was a “beautiful idiot” soon covered the entire territory of the Qingheng Sect. Many people would wander over to the mountain gate after morning lessons, even if they had no business there, just to catch a glimpse of Cen Moyu forcing himself to stay awake.

Some people played pranks on him, stealing his disciple waist token.

The gate-closing disciple offered no reaction. He looked as if he were sealed to the long bench, too lazy to go looking for it.

Having transmigrated into a bird demon, Cen Moyu found that his sense of hearing had become much sharper.

Within the Qingheng Sect, the mountains stretched on endlessly. Under the Sect Leader, there were six different branches, with elders teaching separate curricula.

The morning bell for lessons was located on the main peak. Every day at the crack of dawn, he would listen to the bell while resting his head on the table. The manual visitor registration log was filled with musical notations that no one else could understand.

Life continued like this for ten years, then fifty. Seeing as it was nearly approaching a hundred years, the System finally could not take it anymore and nagged him: “Are you going to grow old and die here? Did we not agree that you would go home after finishing the mission? Are you not leaving?”

“Oh, I will finish it,” Cen Moyu said as he put down his long flute. “Half a year ago, Senior Brother Lu Jijun went down the mountain to eliminate demons. Calculating the time, he should be back soon.”

“Little System, you cannot blame me. I asked if you could pull the progress bar,” the Fairy Pitta demon said. He had no demonic aura at all, nor did he possess the “bird scent” that usual bird demons could not shake off after taking human form. Even the sparrow who had been hiding in the Qingheng Sect for a hundred years had not realized the gate-closing disciple was a fellow avian. “You said you could not, so the days have to be lived one by one.”

Though Cen Moyu was considered “dumb,” he often said things that were hard to refute, and the System felt the same.

“The progress bar is at zero! How did you manage to have absolutely no progress at all!” The System sighed repeatedly: “You are the worst batch I have ever led!”

It happened to be the rainy season, and the wide-open mountain gate offered no view of the scenery below. Mist swirled, and the sky was filled with heavy clouds that seemed to be forming into lightning clouds.

Cen Moyu had seen many such clouds and had been very afraid at first.

He had transmigrated into a bird demon that had been struck by lightning. The original Fairy Pitta had been killed that way, never even knowing what it looked like after taking human form.

The newly arrived Cen Moyu had been dazed and confused, at times unable to retract his wings, and at others finding his beak would not shrink back.

He would cry loudly, terrified by the shimmering feathers on the back of his hands, thinking that being struck by lightning after death meant he would turn into a “Beggar’s Chicken.”

The System rarely spoke of its past.

Based on Cen Moyu’s experience, anything that called a person “Host” usually had a superior department. The other party was likely just another employee.

If his attempt to collect the “love debt” failed and he could not finish this job, he would implicate the System, causing it to lose its salary.

Pinching his flute, Cen Moyu looked at the pendant made of feathers he had collected from his own molting and curiously asked the System: “Have you led anyone else before?”

“That is not important,” the System replied. “What is important is that your mission progress is zero!”

“Sorry, I was a zero to begin with, anyway,” Cen Moyu said softly.

“Acting cute will not work. I will not indulge you this time,” the System said.

Cen Moyu knew he could not stall any longer. “Fine. When Senior Brother Lu Jijun returns, I will strike up a conversation with him.”

The spiritual energy here was dense. Even ordinary mortals could slow their aging here, let alone cultivation disciples.

There was no sign of Cen Moyu’s cultivation increasing, but he was not sad about it. After all, it was very difficult for a small bird to cultivate into a human.

His self-perception was still that of a human. He did not like turning into a bird at midnight to bypass barriers and spy on the whereabouts of the Gong and Shou. He preferred studying music theory. “Can I finish writing this song first? There is going to be thunder soon, which will make it perfect.”

There was no internet in this world, but the connections between the large and small sects remained tight. Things like trials and secret realms looked like gang fights to Cen Moyu.

They fought over equipment, sects, masters, and lineage.

Of course, fighting hard did not necessarily mean winning. In nearly a hundred years, he had seen Lu Jijun countless times, yet he had not seen the rumored Sect Leader even once.

Even for a protagonist Shou, he was far too mysterious.

The gate-closing disciple had also indirectly asked the protagonist Gong several times about him. Lu Jijun did not seem close to his master, saying that a century of closed-door cultivation was a common occurrence. When he had first entered the sect, Wenren Qi had already been in seclusion for two hundred years.

As for how many years a bird demon could live, Cen Moyu had asked the little sparrow, Mai Li, who had secretly snuck into the Qingheng Sect to find a lover. She said the oldest one currently was probably less than five hundred years old.

The sparrow demon was a hundred years older than Cen Moyu, so her cultivation was naturally higher. Supposedly, she had traded something to suppress her demonic aura and sneak into the world’s number one sect. Even when scanned by the Demon-Reflecting Water Mirror, she could maintain her human form.

However, the gate-closing disciple, backed by the System, had discovered her long ago.

During a certain trial, Mai Li had almost been roasted by fire. Cen Moyu lent a hand, and only then did the two fully reveal their identities to each other.

Once he became close with Mai Li, Cen Moyu learned that there were countless ranks within the inner sect.

The protagonist Gong, Lu Jijun, was by no means Wenren Qi’s only disciple. He had countless registered disciples.

Lu Jijun had become the sect’s most famous Senior Brother not because of his master, but purely through his own cultivation.

Perhaps because Cen Moyu asked so many questions about Lu Jijun, the little sparrow thought this Fairy Pitta had snuck into the sect to guard the gate for a lover as well and advised him to give up.

She said Lu Jijun already had someone in his heart, though who it was exactly remained unclear.

Seeing how diligently he searched secret realms, rumor had it that his lover was a demoness from the Hehuuan Sect.

A demoness paired with a bright and upright Senior Brother was the ancestral way.

The little sparrow said it several times, looking at Cen Moyu with immense pity, telling him to let it go.

Thinking of this, Cen Moyu’s flute playing became a bit more mournful.

Today, the mission organized by various major sects to surround the Demon General of the Abyss came to an end. The elders of the Qingheng Sect had received the news long ago and had gone to the mountain gate to welcome the disciples.

This was not particularly rare. The elders did not cross the gate itself but waited on the aerial corridor just past it.

Perhaps Cen Moyu’s flute playing was truly too plaintive. Elder Jueya, who had recruited him back then, could not take it anymore. “This child! He has guarded the gate for a hundred years, his cultivation has not grown a bit, but his musical skill has exploded. I cannot listen to this anymore.”

Jueya looked ready to go settle the score, but the elder beside him shook her head. “There is no need to say that in person.”

She gestured for Jueya to look at the cultivator sitting in the primary seat, dressed in dark green Taoist robes.

The man had white hair draped over his shoulders, held by a jade hairpin that looked like a bow. This further accentuated his cold, aloof, and unapproachable features.

Jueya was an old man. By seniority, he was considered Wenren Qi’s elder. Ignoring Elder Yin Xuan’s hints, he said to Wenren Qi: “Does the Sect Leader enjoy listening to this?”

Wenren Qi was often nowhere to be found. Most of his disciples were merely registered under his name because the other elders could not take any more.

Even Lu Jijun rarely received his guidance. In this century, Lu Jijun had only seen his master once, and that was because the master could not stand the howling of the apes on the back mountain. Too lazy to deal with it himself, he had ordered his disciple to move the monkeys to another peak.

Outsiders all believed the Sect Leader of the Qingheng Sect was cultivating diligently, waiting to ascend. A few elders who knew Wenren Qi’s background knew better. He simply hated tedious sect duties. Had he not been absent back then, the position of Sect Leader might have gone to someone else.

Being the Sect Leader was like having a pot placed on one’s head; one had to work for the sake of all living beings. As the number one sect, there were always Sect Leader exchange conferences.

As his seniority grew, Wenren Qi had Lu Jijun attend all non-essential events in his stead, completely unaware that his disciple was in close contact with the Hehuuan Sect.

This time, had Elder Jueya not refused to leave his palace entrance, Wenren Qi probably would not have been willing to come out.

Wenren Qi remained silent, which did not bother Elder Jueya at all. “You were more fun when you were little, chirping away, curious about everything, and with a foul mouth. The older you get, the heavier your burdens become.”

The other elders made eyes at each other, fearing Wenren Qi would explode in rage and quit again.

This was the only cultivator in the current world with the potential to ascend. What good would it do to anger him into leaving the sect?

“Are you finished?” Wenren Qi glanced at Jueya. “The smell of alcohol is foul. It is better to keep your mouth shut.”

Elder Yin Xuan tried her best to maintain a dignified image, while the other elders laughed heartily. At this moment, the flute music drifting in the wind did not seem so mournful.

Wenren Qi looked toward the flute player. Even from a distance, the aura made him displeased.

Perhaps because he stared for so long, Elder Jueya followed his gaze. “What is it? Have you thought about the matter of a cultivation partner I mentioned before?”

“Your repeated failures to ascend are likely because you have not faced your tribulation. You are just one short.”

Wenren Qi’s cultivation was unfathomable. With him presiding, the Qingheng Sect’s position as the world’s number one would never fall.

If he ascended and left his Earthly Soul behind, it would ensure the sect’s prosperity for ages. For the sect, facilitating his ascension brought only benefits.

It had been nearly a thousand years. Dynasties had changed several times, yet the strongest cultivator seeking ascension still could not escape his elders’ nagging for him to get married.

“So getting married to a partner counts as facing a tribulation?” Wenren Qi had a high nose and deep-set eyes. His white hair was even more striking under the dim sky. Perhaps because he was surrounded by pure aura, wandering butterflies liked to follow him. Unfortunately, the leader of the sect possessed a profound temperament but thin lips that spoke unkindly: “I am afraid having one’s wife leave and children scatter is what counts as a tribulation.”

“Look at what you are saying. The Heavenly Dao always offers a glimmer of hope. If you gain enlightenment, you will not fear parting.”

“Fallacy.” Wenren Qi reached out. For some reason, the wandering butterfly he brushed away flew toward the flute player. Cen Moyu, who was blowing with passion, looked at the butterfly landing on his feathers. He did not dare continue playing for fear of startling it, watching it with extreme focus.

Elder Jueya hooted for a while. Wenren Qi suspected he was of the same lineage as the apes on the back mountain. He was about to leave when the disciples returning from the mission to surround the demon cultivators arrived. In such a grand procession, he could not leave at this time.

The crowd returning to the sect startled the butterfly. Cen Moyu watched the direction where the butterfly disappeared with disappointment.

“Junior Brother Moyu! My waist token is destroyed. Please record it yourself.”

“Me too!”

“Junior Brother Xiao Cen, my waist token cannot be read!”

Every trial was always Cen Moyu’s busiest time. Fortunately, Old Master Wang was also there today, so he could catch his breath.

“Mine is broken too.” A familiar voice accompanied a waist token that had been split in two. Hearing it, Cen Moyu broke into a smile. “Senior Brother Lu Jijun, congratulations on returning home safely.”

Even though there were scandalous rumors about Lu Jijun and the Hehuuan Sect demoness, many disciples still preferred watching the interaction between the gate-closing disciple and the Sect Leader’s beloved pupil.

There were countless whispers all around. Sitting up high, Elder Jueya tried every way possible to get Wenren Qi to talk. “What do you think?”

Wenren Qi tried to ignore the abnormality in his divine soul. He clearly had not lost anything, yet he sensed an aura similar to his own on that gate-closing disciple whose appearance was excessively dazzling.

Why was this?

His gaze was undisguised. Lu Jijun, knowing that Cen Moyu’s handwriting was both ugly and slow, could not help but look toward the source of the gaze, only to bow his head abruptly the next instant.

Why was Master here today?

Did he not hate these tedious return ceremonies the most?

Did Elder Jueya throw another tantrum?

No matter how low Cen Moyu’s cultivation was, he felt a bit uneasy. He did not quite understand why. The ink for his writing had soaked half a sheet of paper. He said apologetically, “I am sorry, Senior Brother Lu Jijun. You can go in. I will write slowly.”

“It is not your fault. The Sect Leader came out today.”

The Qingheng Sect had the most sword cultivators. The Sect Leader practiced both sword and sound, but he only taught sword techniques.

Rumor had it his musical skill had reached the pinnacle. In his youth, his zither music had killed demons, creating a place where no monsters dared enter for a hundred years. Even the elders who entered the Tao through sound felt inferior to him.

Cen Moyu found it even harder to write. “What! Your old”

He quickly corrected himself: “The Sect Leader, that old gentleman, actually came out of his cave?”

The Fairy Pitta was originally a celestial being among birds, and his appearance was beyond words. Though Cen Moyu was a chatterbox with the System in private, he was naturally silent and found it hard to get close to others. Even the sparrow demon had been difficult to become friends with.

Lu Jijun had a good impression of him. Besides having a beautiful face, the person was honest, did not cause trouble, was innocent, and had self-awareness. His eyes were clear and moving. Anyone who looked at them would be in a good mood.

The gate-closing disciples of other sects were not as good-looking as Cen Moyu. He was considered an indispensable mascot for the sect.

“The Sect Leader is not that old.” Lu Jijun put away his inkstone and cleaned Cen Moyu’s sleeve, which had been dipped in ink. “He was likely pestered by Elder Jueya and came out for some fresh air.”

Cen Moyu had a rare flash of insight and asked in a low voice, “He is not in seclusion. He just does not want to leave the house?”

Lu Jijun neither nodded nor shook his head. He added his own name and took his waist token from the table. “I am off.”

Old Master Wang had left early to go drinking. Cen Moyu leaned on the chicken-wing wood table and chatted with the System.

Outside, it started to rain. The mountain gate of the Qingheng Sect was extremely high, yet one could still see the distant city walls, which were protected by the great sect.

If guarding the gate were not a year-round job, Cen Moyu would have liked to go down the mountain to play.

“Senior Brother Lu Jijun said the Sect Leader does not go into seclusion at all. It seems he is a shut-in.”

The System said nothing.

Cen Moyu also had good eyesight and added: “Did you not see? When Senior Brother Lu Jijun lowered his head just now, his collar was all red. That was definitely a hickey!”

“Could it be that the protagonist Gong and Shou are already together?”

The System replied: “That red mark was sucked out by the Hehuuan Sect demoness.”

The System’s choice of words was crude, and Cen Moyu’s face suddenly flushed. “Then, then what should we do? Could they have already done that! Their sexual orientation does not match the original work. Are we still doing the mission?”

He was incredibly pure-hearted. The System countered: “Do you not have a boyfriend? Have you dated? How can you not understand this at all?”

A hundred years had passed. Cen Moyu had almost forgotten what Fu Zeyu looked like.

At this thought, he thought for a long time and felt a bit sad, saying in a low voice: “I did not sleep with him. We did not even kiss. Back home, being same-sex is illegal. That is why I wanted to immigrate to a country where we could get married, and then after we got married”

The System said coldly: “You wanted a status, but he did not give it to you.”

Cen Moyu was rarely agitated: “That is not true! It was my unrequited love”

He was almost in tears. The System changed the subject: “The plot point from the original work is almost here.”

Cen Moyu sat up abruptly. “Is this lightning tribulation prepared for the protagonist Shou? I was wondering why it has been cloudy for half a month. My bamboo flute is about to grow mold.”

The System replied: “Anyway, just wait for him to be knocked unconscious by the lightning, then drop him at the designated cave dwelling.”

Cen Moyu said “Oh” several times. After a while, he called out the System’s nickname listlessly: “Little System, I, I do not really know how to fly.”

The System’s voice became increasingly deep, like a dean of students: “You have been a bird for a hundred years. Does it make sense that you cannot fly?”

Cen Moyu weakly defended himself: “It has not been a full hundred years yet. And I was not a bird before.”

The System was also helpless: “You are a demon now, a demon cultivator formed from a bird! Do you understand? Who told you to blow that flute and write songs every day? There are no talent shows in the cultivation world!”

Cen Moyu would not resist being scolded, but he asked guiltily: “Then what should I do?”

“There are still a few days,” the System said. “You should practice.”

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