From that day on, the relationship between the two inexplicably grew closer. Si Ming would occasionally accompany Si Qing while he read, and Si Qing would sometimes ask Si Ming questions.
The once-desolate temple was no longer so cold and empty.
After confirming that the man wouldn’t kill him, Si Qing became much bolder. He now dared to openly sit beside Si Ming while reading, and even dared to ask him to bring back things he wanted whenever Si Ming left the temple.
The man clearly found it annoying, yet he always brought back what Si Qing asked for.
Before anyone realized, the empty temple had changed—filled with Si Qing’s favorite things, adorned with flowers, plants, and trees.
All things Si Qing loved.
Habit was a terrifying thing. Without noticing, Si Ming had gone from fulfilling requests out of obligation to doing so willingly, gradually growing accustomed to bringing back things Si Qing liked every time he returned home.
Without fail.
***
Today was the day Si Ming was supposed to return.
Si Qing had long since lost focus on his book, his gaze drifting repeatedly toward the library’s entrance, waiting to see if the man had come back.
Finally, he returned.
Si Qing’s beautiful eyes brightened as he set down his book and hurried over, eagerly taking what Si Ming had brought.
"Thank you, Teacher."
His words were perfunctory—his gaze never once strayed from the flowers in his hands, nor did he spare Si Ming even a glance.
All his attention was fixed on the blossoms.
A shadow flickered in Si Ming’s eyes. The satisfaction of bringing the flowers faded, replaced by an inexplicable irritation. That bouquet suddenly seemed… unsightly.
This wasn’t the first time. He really did dislike those flowers and plants.
The temperature in the air dropped imperceptibly. Only then did Si Qing notice the man’s displeasure. Clutching the flowers, he looked up at Si Ming with concern.
"Teacher, did something go wrong this time?"
Si Ming didn’t answer. His cold gaze swept over Si Qing before his figure vanished on the spot.
Si Qing was used to it by now. This man was always so unpredictable, always disappearing without warning.
Unbothered by his sudden absence, Si Qing cradled the flowers protectively in his arms. These were the Xiyue blossoms—a rare and precious flower from the three thousand worlds, one he had only ever read about in books.
The petals of the Xiyue flower overlapped in layers, pure white in their entirety—except for the tips, which were stained a vivid red, as if dipped in blood. The stark contrast between red and white created a striking visual impact.
The flower wasn’t just beautiful; its properties were exceptionally rare. It could grant immortality.
For him and his teacher—both eternal deities—immortality meant nothing. But for mortal beings, it was an irresistible temptation.
Si Qing carefully placed the flower on the table and began flipping through books, studying it intently.
The Xiyue flower was incredibly fragile. The slightest touch of external force would cause it to wither instantly, so Si Qing handled it with extreme caution, as though it were a priceless treasure.
His research lasted the entire afternoon. The floor was littered with books he’d referenced, scattered haphazardly.
Time was running out. He hadn’t yet fully come into existence, and each day, he needed to spend at least ten hours nurturing himself within his own world.
Reluctantly, Si Qing closed the book, tidied up the stack, and returned them to the shelf.
Just as he placed the last book back, the shelf groaned under the weight—then collapsed without warning, crushing the flower he’d left beside it.
The petals of the Xiyue flower instantly turned withered and black, the entire plant drooping lifelessly. Even its leaves began to yellow.
Si Qing’s eyes widened. Ignoring the fallen shelf, he immediately channeled his power in a desperate attempt to save the flower.
But the Xiyue flower was too delicate. Despite his efforts, nothing could be done. He could only watch helplessly as its vitality faded away.
Cradling the dead flower, Si Qing brushed a fingertip against its shriveled leaves, lips pressed together in guilt and frustration.
He didn’t dwell on why the bookshelf had collapsed. After burying the flower in the courtyard, he went to bid his teacher goodnight.
***
In a vast, hollow hall, a man sat atop an elevated throne. His features were breathtakingly handsome, his eyes as cold and indifferent as ever, as though nothing in the world could ever hold his gaze.
This was Si Ming. Before him floated an image—a scene from that very study.
More precisely, an image of the young man in the study.
Only when the bookshelf toppled and crushed the flower did the shadow in Si Ming’s eyes finally recede slightly.
As the young man in the vision approached the divine palace, the image vanished instantly. No one could have guessed he’d been watching the boy all along.
That was a gaze named "peeping."
Long ago, Si Ming had already grown accustomed to watching the boy's every move. He saw nothing wrong with it—after all, the entire temple was His. Naturally, He could look at whatever He pleased.
A minute after the scene faded, Si Qing appeared in the grand hall.
His mood was somber. He bowed to Si Ming and said, "Teacher, I’m going back now. Goodnight."
Si Ming, seemingly sensing Si Qing’s unhappiness, spoke indifferently, "What’s wrong?"
Si Qing pressed his lips together, a hint of grievance in his expression, but he shook his head slightly. "It’s nothing."
"Come here," Si Ming said flatly.
Obediently, Si Qing walked over and sat down beside His feet, as he always did. Their posture was neither entirely distant nor entirely intimate—it hovered somewhere in between.
Si Ming looked down at him. "What happened?"
Si Qing raised his eyes, his voice tinged with sadness. "The flowers you brought me… they died."
For a moment, it seemed Si Ming wanted to comfort him. He reached out and stiffly patted Si Qing’s head.
"I’ll bring you more next time."
Such intimate gestures were almost unheard of between them. Si Qing froze for a second before lifting his gaze and offering a faint smile.
"Thank you, Teacher."
***
As time passed, Si Qing grew less and less afraid of Si Ming. Once he realized Si Ming rarely ever got angry with him, he began pushing his luck more and more.
When a child realizes the "adult" in their life loves them, they inevitably grow bold—even spoiled.
It was an instinct all young creatures shared.
But Si Qing’s spoiled phase didn’t last long before he noticed something strange.
The things he cherished always seemed to meet with misfortune. The more he cared about something, the faster it would be destroyed.
Once or twice could be dismissed as coincidence, but when it happened every single time, it could only mean someone was interfering—even if there wasn’t the slightest trace of human intervention.
And in the entire temple, there were only him and his Teacher.
Even a fool could figure out what was really going on.
It was the teacher who did it.
Si Qing couldn’t understand it. The things had clearly been given to him by the teacher, so why wouldn’t the teacher let him interact with them too much?
He flipped through books searching for an answer. The books said some parents didn’t like their children becoming so obsessed with something that they neglected their duties—what was called a parent’s abnormal need for control.
But Si Qing always felt something wasn’t quite right. Reading and research shouldn’t count as neglecting one’s duties, right?
After repeated trials, Si Qing finally figured out the real issue. It wasn’t about neglecting duties—it was about neglecting the teacher.
The moment he became so engrossed in something that he ignored the teacher, the thing he was obsessed with would most likely be destroyed—until nothing remained that could distract him from the teacher.
The books said this was a pathological possessiveness, a kind of twisted behavior.
His teacher seemed… to be a freak.
A freak wasn’t scary. What was scary was a freak with absolute, overwhelming power—so strong that no one could defy them.
At least, Si Qing couldn’t.
So Si Qing had no choice but to obey the teacher even more, becoming increasingly docile and obedient, making sure never to neglect the teacher for anything.
But there were still moments of carelessness, like now.
Si Qing had just gotten something new and was in a state of fascination, studying it so intently that he accidentally ignored the man beside him.
He didn’t even notice when the man had arrived.
It wasn’t until the temperature in the air dropped several degrees that Si Qing finally snapped back to reality.
Feeling the man’s dark gaze on him, his slender body stiffened slightly. Instinctively, he hid the object behind his back.
Only after hiding it did he realize—he was done for.
Si Qing didn’t dare look up to see the man’s expression.
Thanks❤
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