Chapter 1: Transformation

## Chapter 1: Transformation

Dappled light streamed through the floor-to-ceiling window, casting dancing patterns on the solitary plant stand. The incessant, droning cicada buzz accompanied the light, rousing the sleeping Clivia plant.

Its leaves stirred, seemingly without a breeze.

To the rhythm of soft ticking, a vibrant green form swayed joyfully within the porcelain-white flowerpot. In an instant, the leaves unfurled like a stretching human torso.

The room fell silent, save for the faint, distant cicada song. As the last drop of water seeped into the soil, a blurred human figure suddenly materialized on the emerald-green leaves.

With slender, alabaster hands supporting the leaf, the figure, still drowsy, exerted a slight force and alighted gracefully on the pale gray floor.

He was dressed in traditional layered robes, a light green overcoat adorned with burgundy patterns. The striking combination of red and green accentuated his otherworldly beauty.

Eyes half-closed, as if just awakened from a deep slumber, he twitched his nose, seemingly catching a scent, and widened his eyes in disbelief.

In the blink of an eye, he stood before the full-length mirror, leaning forward slightly, studying his reflection intently.

His clenched fingers dug into his palms, and the sharp pain shocked him into full awareness. He let out a soft gasp.

In the 323rd year since gaining sentience, he—Shen Junlan—had finally manifested a human form from a small Clivia that had absorbed the spiritual energy of heaven and earth.

For the first 315 years, he had devoted himself to cultivation on Mount Buzhou. But this Mount Buzhou was not the mythical, legendary one; it borrowed the name but not the vast spiritual energy. Aside from him, there were no other sentient beings in the mountain.

He could understand the communications of mountains, rivers, plants, birds, fish, and insects, but they all faced death one day. As time cycled, he bid farewell to generation after generation of companions.

Loneliness—boundless loneliness.

Since gaining sentience, Shen Junlan had endured countless hardships. The mountain offered neither proper nourishment nor true starvation. With wind, frost, rain, snow, thunderstorms, and scarce spiritual energy, he could barely survive.

It wasn’t until the 300th year of his sentience that he faced tribulation lightning—once a year, for 15 years straight. Shen Junlan felt utterly hopeless; his mind was so dull that it took him 15 years to understand how to overcome tribulation lightning.

The fifteenth time, the lightning crackled relentlessly, one strike after another. It seemed less like a tribulation and more like a deliberate attempt on his life.

Each time the sky flashed, lightning struck him. Shen Junlan, on the verge of death, could only barely shield his head with his leaves, desperately evading.

The lightning grew denser, and in moments, his leaves were shattered. He gasped in agony, certain he would perish under the lightning.

Gritting his teeth, Shen Junlan resisted the tribulation lightning with his remaining spiritual energy. Dragging his pitiful three tender shoots, he rolled faster and faster, his consciousness blurring. He could hear nothing but thunder, and somehow, he rolled into an unfamiliar place.

Though rain poured down, not a drop fell on him. Shen Junlan was astonished. He seemed enveloped by something, and after focusing for a long time, he realized he was cradled in a warm palm.

The figure before him was blurred yet strikingly clear.

Shen Junlan’s tender shoots quivered, and only one thought remained in his mind: this must be… a human.

The humans mentioned by the birds soaring across the sky—the most beautiful beings.

"Are you also unwanted?" A gravelly, low voice sounded beside Shen Junlan’s ear. It was the first time he had heard a human voice, and it was mesmerizing.

More beautiful than the songs of kingfishers on Mount Buzhou.

A thunderous roar.

A massive lightning cloud approached, and Shen Junlan’s heart tightened. He faintly sensed that this would be the final lightning strike, but such a powerful bolt would surely destroy him utterly.

Shen Junlan closed his eyes in despair, his tender shoots drooping lifelessly.

The thunder crashed, but the expected pain never came. Shen Junlan looked up in confusion—the massive lightning struck the person’s back entirely.

Yet, even as blood seeped from the person’s back, they remained unaware, feeling no pain, as if untouched by the lightning.

Shen Junlan instinctively looked up at the sky. The gathered lightning clouds dispersed, and a faint golden light shot into his roots, warm and carrying the scent of sunlight.

The tribulation lightning had dissipated…

The person before him had taken the lightning strike for him.

His heart raced, and Shen Junlan stared at them in a daze, overwhelmed with indescribable emotions.

The first human he encountered in the human world had taken a lightning strike for him. How could he ever repay this profound debt?

Later, Shen Junlan was taken home by this person and raised by them. He learned that his name was Huo Yanchi. According to Xiao Que in the garden, those brought home by humans should call them "master."

At this thought, Shen Junlan grew even more excited. Now that he had taken human form, he must repay Huo Yanchi’s life-saving grace properly.

Back in the mountain, he had occasionally heard the snail brothers say that repaying kindness required wholehearted devotion—doing laundry, cooking, warming the bed, and fulfilling every request of the master. Shen Junlan had always taken this as his creed, and he decided to start repaying the kindness from today onward.

Shen Junlan twirled in his traditional Chinese robes and studied himself in the mirror for a long time before suddenly remembering that his master never dressed like this.

He tilted his head in thought, then gathered a wisp of spiritual energy at his fingertips and pressed it to his head. Instantly, his hair, which had reached past his waist, shortened into a neat crop.

Shen Junlan satisfiedly ruffled his hair, casually styling it into a handsome look. He tugged at his clothes, mustering his spiritual energy only to disperse it again—he could only transform his inner garments, not the outer robes.

He sighed, his round eyes darting around, then quickly slipped into his master’s walk-in closet. He chose an oversized shirt to change into, which just reached mid-thigh. However, the pants he tried on kept slipping off, and after rummaging through, he couldn’t find a suitable pair, so he had to settle for this attire.

Leaving the closet, Shen Junlan floated onto Huo Yanchi’s large bed and rolled around. A crisp, cool scent drifted into his nostrils, and he squinted, inhaling deeply.

It was Huo Yanchi’s unique scent, exactly the same as what he had smelled eight years ago.

Huo Yanchi’s bed wasn’t very soft, but it was far more comfortable than his flowerpot. Shen Junlan rolled from the head to the foot of the bed, wrinkling the sheets, and only when he caught his own scent did he satisfiedly blink.

This was how it should be!

Shen Junlan buried his face in the soft pillow, his fingers tracing the patterns on the headboard, pondering how to go about doing laundry, cooking, and warming the bed.

The only silver lining was that his master had a "mental illness." Though Shen Junlan didn’t understand what that meant, he knew Huo Yanchi’s mental state was poor and likely wouldn’t notice his antics.

"Click."

Shen Junlan stiffened, perking up his ears to listen carefully. The sound grew closer. Based on his hearing, it was coming from the front door. He quickly scrambled off the bed and floated at top speed to the bedroom door.

Next, the sound of high heels clicking followed.

Usually, at this time, Huo Yanchi would already be at work. Why had he returned suddenly?

Shen Junlan peeked out from behind the wall, his fluffy head emerging, his dark eyes wide open. Facing Huo Yanchi was a strange woman.

The living room was eerily quiet. Even from a distance, Shen Junlan could sense the tense energy emanating from Huo Yanchi.

Huo Yanchi was unhappy—very unhappy.

"Xiao Chi, are you... okay?" The woman’s voice trembled slightly, and upon closer look, tears welled in the corners of her eyes.

Hmph. A low, cold laugh escaped Huo Yanchi’s chest. He stared at the woman with a strange, eerie gaze, finally lifting his eyelids after a long moment.

His deep, penetrating eyes fixed on the woman. Huo Yanchi clenched his fingers at his sides. "What does it matter to you how I am? How did you find this place? Get out."

The icy tone froze the woman’s smile on her face. Her gaze shifted backward, and she sidestepped half a step inward, only to be blocked by Huo Yanchi’s tall figure.

"I said, get out." Huo Yanchi's voice grew even colder.

"Xiao Chi, after all... I am your mother. It's only natural for me to care about your life."

Shen Junlan widened his eyes in confusion. Mother? He had been raised by Huo Yanchi for eight years and never knew he had parents or relatives.

Hmph. Concern? Huo Yanchi found it disgusting.

He jerked back, avoiding her outstretched hand, a hint of disgust flashing in his eyes.

"Don’t bother playing the emotional card. That ended eight years ago."

"Xiao Chi..." The woman’s fingers tightened on her bag strap, her lips bitten, her eyes red-rimmed. Her straight posture sagged slightly, her gaze resolute.

"No matter what, we’re still family. Your brother... he’s not well, really not doing well. He needs you. Didn't you always love him? Only you can save him. You have to save him, you must save him."

"Shut up." His voice was tightly controlled, jaw clenched, speaking through gritted teeth. "Whether he lives or dies has nothing to do with me. What, wasn’t the blood stored eight years ago enough? Taking my blood four times a month—wasn’t that enough to last him until he’s 27? How dare you show your face here again? Is it because you have no shame?"

"No, it’s not like that, Xiao Chi. You’ve misunderstood me and your father. We love you. Grandpa loves you too. We all love you, especially your brother. He doesn’t know, he never knew. It was me, it was us—"

Hah.

Huo Yanchi let out a low, cold laugh, as if he’d heard some ridiculous joke. He stared at the woman who was about to kneel begging him, yet felt completely unmoved.

Amusing. Truly amusing.

"Get out! Get out!"

The woman seemed frightened by Huo Yanchi’s current state. Hand over her heart, she stumbled backward, nearly falling. She turned to leave, but then, thinking of her precious son lying in a hospital bed, she halted.

"Xiao... Xiao Chi, Mom is begging you. Please, consider it Mom begging you, alright?"

Huo Yanchi’s last shred of patience vanished. He looked at her coldly. "If you’re not gone in thirty seconds, I’m calling the police."

After a moment of silent confrontation, the woman finally left. She knew Huo Yanchi’s temper—he was capable of anything.

The room fell completely silent. Huo Yanchi’s straight back seemed to sag for a moment before quickly stiffening again. But when he turned around, Shen Junlan saw that his eyes were bloodshot.

Shen Junlan held his breath. Now was definitely not a good time to show himself. He quickly hid behind the door.

Once hidden, it suddenly struck him: he had just taken human form and was still a spirit. Huo Yanchi couldn’t even see him—why bother hiding? With that thought, he walked out casually, watching as Huo Yanchi went upstairs, mechanically poured pills from the bedside bottle into his hand, and swallowed them all at once.

Huo Yanchi sat on the floor, his broad back leaning against the bed, arms hanging limply. His sharp eyes were hidden behind his hair, unusually revealing a sense of defeat and fragility.

Shen Junlan inched closer to Huo Yanchi’s side. Every time after taking the medicine, he would space out for a long, long time. Shen Junlan didn’t speak, just silently kept him company, watching.

Time passed, minute by minute. So long that Shen Junlan, lying on the bed, began to yawn. Only then did Huo Yanchi push himself up on his knees.

Shen Junlan squinted. The short hand on the wall clock pointed to 10. His gaze fell on Huo Yanchi, watching him plunge into his study without eating or drinking, showing no intention of coming out.

Ah, I'm so tired.

Shen Junlan rubbed his sleepy eyes, his slender fingers poking at the study doorframe as he mumbled drowsily.

"Master, I’m so sleepy... I can’t keep you company anymore. I’m going to bed first."

Exhausted, Shen Junlan floated to the bedroom and climbed onto Huo Yanchi’s bed. Considerately, he only took up a corner, curling up and falling into a deep sleep.

The faint click in the room didn’t wake Shen Junlan. He slept soundly, completely unaware that two buttons of his shirt had come undone.

Standing by the bed, Huo Yanchi saw this scene: an extra person on his bed, wearing his shirt, revealing delicate collarbones.

With each shallow breath, the chest rose slightly. The shirt only reached mid-thigh, and fair, slender legs were curled up. In full view was an unnaturally beautiful face, like a captivating mountain spirit.

Huo Yanchi’s breath hitched for a moment. His eyes narrowed sharply, radiating danger.

Who was this? Daring to climb into his bed.

**Author’s Note:**

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Dear readers, updates will be posted according to schedule before monetization, tentatively set for 6 PM. If there’s no update, then there isn’t one! Love you all! [Hahaha][Hahaha][Hahaha]

**Recommending a pre-release:** "My Ex-Husband Who Abandoned Me and Our Child Isn’t Human"

Rainy night.

Qi Jingnian’s ex-husband, who had divorced him and abandoned their child three years ago, returned.

He was still wearing the suit from the day he left, the blood-red patterns on the clothing clearly visible. He held a large black umbrella, shading half of his strikingly handsome face.

His blood-red eyes lifted slightly, thin lips parting: "Long time no see. I’m back."

After a long stare, Qi Jingnian was the first to look away. He bent down, scooped up his meowing son, and slammed the door shut.

A moment later, Qi Jingnian, leaning against the door, let out a frustrated sound, then scowled and opened the door again.

He lowered his slightly reddened eyes, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Long time no see. Please, come in."

Qi Jingnian noticed that since Pei Yuchi’s return, everything at home had started to feel off.

Unexplained thick fog, the red moon occasionally enveloping the villa, a city that appeared and vanished, blood-curdling screams occasionally seeping from the garden. The blurred figure in the bedroom mirror, the vivid blood-red mark on his wrist, and the faintly visible black vortex behind Pei Yuchi.

Oh, and he almost forgot—his cat son had started talking.

Well... it seemed his ex-husband wasn’t quite human!

\*

Everyone in Lincheng knew Qi Jingnian was a madman. In just three years, he had replaced the business empire Pei Yuchi built over seven years. Rumors said he was moody, ruthless, a terrifying figure who could make children cry at night. Those who approached him with ulterior motives never ended well.

Until one day, they found the tycoon openly carrying his cat son into grand banquet halls, always stepping out under a black umbrella with a faint smile, his once murderous eyes now filled only with tenderness and love.

Well, alright then. The tycoon had gone even madder.

**Mini Scene:**

On the two-meter-wide bed, Qi Jingnian looped a red string around Pei Yuchi’s pinky, lifting his chin as he asked, "What are you?"

Pei Yuchi gently caught Qi Jingnian’s wrist, kissing away the blood beads one by one. His crimson lips parted. "Darling, I’m not a 'what.' I’m your husband."

I crossed mountains and rivers to return to your side. How could I ever let go of your hand again?

Obsessive, troubled, ruthless shou (the submissive partner in a danmei relationship) × Deeply loving, powerful, gentle gong (the dominant partner in a danmei relationship).