Immortal Paladin

269 Babysitter Gu Jie

[POV: Gu Jie]

Ru Qiu walked ahead, his long strides casual, yet each step left a faint mark in the soil as if the earth itself feared to reject him. Gu Jie followed close behind, her chains long since burned away but her freedom no less compromised. The silence between them stretched uncomfortably, broken only when she cleared her throat and asked, “Why wouldn’t you just fly us there? Wouldn’t it be faster?”

Ru Qiu halted for the briefest second, turning his head slightly as though the question puzzled him. His lips curled into a half-smirk before he tilted his head back, gazing at the sky as though rediscovering something forgotten. “Curious,” he murmured, “I can fly?” Then, almost immediately, his voice dropped into a grave certainty, “Of course, I can fly. But you can’t.”

Gu Jie blinked at him, not sure if he was mocking her or genuinely realizing his own power in fragments. “You could carry me,” she suggested, trying to keep her tone even. But the moment she invoked her Destiny Seeking Eyes, she regretted it. Visions of herself slammed into her mind, bones snapping as his careless grip hurled her through the air, bruises blossoming across her skin from his iron clutch, and her body colliding into a mountainside like discarded baggage. The pain lingered in her chest as if it had already happened.

“No, never mind,” she blurted out, raising her hands as though to ward off the image. “We could move at this pace just fine.”

Ru Qiu stopped again, this time raising his hand as if signaling a threat, though his expression betrayed no hostility. The sudden motion sent a sharp chill down her spine. She froze, watching his long fingers stiffen, his purple eyes narrowing.

“What’s the problem?” Gu Jie asked, cautiously stepping closer.

His gaze shifted upward, his lips twitching into what could almost be mistaken for amusement. His voice came low, deliberate, and bizarrely calm. “A civilian has landed on me.”

Her heart sank. A civilian? How could someone have landed on him without her noticing? She imagined assassins cloaked by arts even her Destiny Seeking Eyes failed to pierce, or perhaps a hidden master stalking them. Her body tensed, every instinct ready to flee.

Ru Qiu turned slowly, his movements deliberate, almost theatrical, until his head came into view. Gu Jie’s jaw dropped. Sitting atop the crown of the Heavenly Demon was neither an assassin nor a hidden cultivator, but a butterfly. Its fragile wings shimmered in hues of blue and violet, opening and closing lazily as though the aura of death surrounding him meant nothing.

“That’s a butterfly,” explained Gu Jie slowly, as though speaking to a child. “An insect.”

Ru Qiu tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “Exactly. A mere graze of my touch would incinerate this trash,” he said with chilling detachment, his voice smooth as silk. “But as per our arrangement, I shall not harm it.”

Her brows furrowed, annoyance prickling at her patience. “A civilian is not an it,” she corrected firmly. Without waiting for his response, she stepped forward and gently waved her hand, shooing the butterfly into the air. Its fragile wings carried it upward, dancing in a brief moment of freedom, until it drifted straight into a spider’s web stretched between two branches.

Gu Jie froze. The creature struggled helplessly, its movements tangling it further while the spider crept toward it with patient hunger. Disbelief struck her. After all that care to save it, only for it to be caught so swiftly.

“See,” Ru Qiu remarked with a faint smile, his tone calm as ever, “the strong devours the weak.”

“But that was a spider and a butterfly. They were not people! Humans were different. They could make choices, rise above hunger and instinct. They could protect, rather than consume. And that difference mattered. Ugh… I hate my life…”

The road stretched onward until the first lights of the city came into view. Lanterns swayed above crooked streets, shadows spilling from taverns where laughter mingled with drunken curses. The smell of wine and sweat thickened the air as they entered. A group of drunkards staggered past them, their eyes lecherously following the curve of Gu Jie’s figure, their whispers crude and unashamed.

Ru Qiu’s steps slowed. His gaze sharpened, the faint glow of his eyes suggesting he considered them prey. “Are they civilians too?” he asked, his voice low, dangerous in its curiosity.

Gu Jie forced her shoulders to stay relaxed, though her heart drummed with unease. She turned to him, her tone patient, deliberate, and edged with warning. “Yes. Do not do anything, please…”

The tavern lights flickered behind them as they moved deeper into the city’s narrow veins. The noise of revelers faded into the low hum of merchants closing shop and the occasional bark of dogs prowling the alleys. Ru Qiu walked with easy strides, his presence drawing wary glances from those who crossed their path, though none dared linger.

“What is the plan?” Ru Qiu finally asked, his tone flat but with a hint of curiosity beneath it. His eyes wandered as though none of this mattered, yet his question carried weight.

Gu Jie drew in a quiet breath, steadying herself. “First, we get involved with the underground element. We investigate, get our bearings, and then begin searching for my master.”

Ru Qiu gave a soft, almost careless chuckle. “This master of yours… who is he, even? For someone to command such loyalty from you, he must be extraordinary. Yet if I recovered my memories, I could teach you a hundred techniques and a thousand ways to grow strong.”

His arrogance grated against her, though she had expected no less. Gu Jie slowed her steps just long enough to glance at him, her eyes holding steady. “He is my father as much as he is my master and savior. He is the world to me. The bond we share is not one of technique or power, but of trust and faith. It is something you and I could never hope to reciprocate.”

For once, Ru Qiu had no reply. He merely regarded her in silence, and though his lips curved faintly, there was no mockery behind his gaze. There was only an unreadable quiet.

Gu Jie exhaled softly, pressing forward. The scent of broth and sizzling oil soon drifted through the cool night air, leading them toward a modest eatery tucked against the sidewalk. Its lantern cast a warm glow over a few wooden stools and low tables, and the chatter of tired workers slurping noodles spilled into the street. She stopped, turning toward it.

“Here,” she said, her tone lightening just a fraction. “We could use a break.”

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The warmth of the eatery seeped into Gu Jie’s bones as they sat on a pair of stools by a low wooden table. The faint chatter of tired workers filled the air, mingling with the clatter of bowls and the fragrance of simmering broth. She leaned forward slightly, glancing at Ru Qiu, who seemed more interested in scanning the lantern-lit room than in the menu etched crudely on the wall.

“Do you want anything?” she asked, tone casual.

Ru Qiu blinked, tilting his head as though the question was foreign. “Want?” he repeated, as if testing the word on his tongue. His confusion made it clear that he had no frame of reference for something as simple as choosing a meal.

Gu Jie sighed and raised her hand to the passing attendant. “Two bowls of noodles with braised pork,” she ordered, not waiting for Ru Qiu to decide. The man nodded briskly and shuffled toward the steaming pots in the back.

They sat in silence for a moment, the muted crackle of oil and the soft scrape of chopsticks filling the gap between them. Finally, Gu Jie broke the quiet. “So, what do you want to learn about yourself?”

For the first time since she had met him, Ru Qiu hesitated. His expression shifted from idle detachment to something heavier, almost troubled. He lowered his gaze, fingers tapping once against the table as though weighing countless unspoken thoughts. “Where to begin…” His voice trailed before he finally looked at her, his violet eyes narrowing with a rare seriousness. “What is our relationship? Why was it you I first met when I woke up?”

Gu Jie met his gaze without flinching. “Our relationship is nothing more than temporary allies,” she answered evenly. “We happened to fight together against a powerful being that, to its perspective, you would only amount to nothing more than the limb of an ant.”

Ru Qiu’s lips curled into a sharp grin, though his laughter carried a trace of offense. “A good joke.”

“I am not joking,” Gu Jie said firmly, her tone flat with certainty. “As for why I was the first person you saw when you woke up, it is either the work of destiny… or simply my bad luck.”

The tension between them lingered for a breath before the clatter of dishes broke it. Their bowls arrived, steaming hot and rich with the scent of braised pork and fresh scallions.

“Let’s eat,” Gu Jie said, setting her chopsticks neatly on the rim of the bowl. “As for the rest of your questions, ask them anytime you want… except when we are eating.”

“Fine,” Ru Qiu muttered, his tone begrudging. Still, he picked up the chopsticks, clumsy at first, watching the way she held them before attempting to mimic her movements. It was almost comical, this demon of overwhelming power fumbling like a child learning table manners.

He managed to lift a bundle of noodles into his mouth, and the moment the broth touched his tongue his eyes widened, glimmering with surprise. “What in heaven’s name is this?” he asked, almost breathless.

Gu Jie did not look impressed. “Mortal food,” she replied flatly, sipping from her own bowl.

Ru Qiu slurped noisily, broth dripping down his chin. Between mouthfuls, he laughed. “So there is something good that could come out of mortals too. Impressive!”

Gu Jie winced, not from his words but from the rush of memory that struck her. She remembered the day her adoptive father had first brought her to a noodle stall. She had been filthy then, a lowly, stinking bandit with no future beyond crime and survival. That single bowl had been more than food. It had been a symbol of a different life, and a promise of something worth striving toward. And now here she was, sharing a table with a man so dangerous he could shatter entire sects, watching him marvel over something as simple as noodles. The irony was not lost on her. In some twisted way, it had come to a full circle.

Before she could lose herself further in thought, laughter echoed from the sidewalk outside. A group approached, a young master flanked by arrogant youths and adorned by several finely dressed women. Their mocking voices carried clearly through the open window.

“How obscene,” one of the youths sneered, gesturing at the two eating. “To go at mortal food like common beggars.”

“Indeed,” another added, “a true cultivator avoids such impurities. Eating like that only pollutes the body.”

Gu Jie felt her temper flare at their jeering. She knew well enough that the claim of “mortal food causing impurity” was nothing but an old myth, one repeated by arrogant fools who mistook ignorance for wisdom. Yes, mortal food could give someone cholesterol, or a bad stomach, or perhaps shorten a weakling’s lifespan, but impurity of the body? That was laughable. Yet it still irritated her when someone paraded such nonsense as if it were gospel.

She slammed her chopsticks onto the table and spat out, her voice sharp, “A cultivator is nothing more than a superhuman. But at the end of the day, a human still, a mortal, an evolved life form, yes, but not something beyond the laws of nature. If you truly believe you are better than me simply because you deny yourself good food, then you are nothing but a fool.”

The young master blinked, then his lips curved into a smug smile. “How dare this wench speak against me? Do you know who I am?”

One of his lackeys puffed up his chest and barked, “This is Young Master Da, you fool!”

The name hit Gu Jie like a stone to the chest. Da. She winced despite herself. The surname was her adoptive father’s, and for that brief moment her mind tangled with unwelcome memory. But the young master misread her silence and expression, mistaking it for weakness. His smirk widened as he stepped forward, flaring his meager cultivation.

“I will accept your apology,” Young Master Da announced proudly, “if you join my harem. Just so you know, my Spirit Mystery ability allows me to make a woman feel the highest pleasure. That makes me a genius at dual cultivation! Moreover, my father serves the highest courts of the Heavenly Temple!”

“Genius at dual cultivation?” Gu Jie nearly gagged. “That doesn’t make you a genius… It makes you a pervert dressed in silk.” Her mind recoiled. By realm alone, she stood at the Fifth, Soul Recognition, leagues beyond him. And Ru Qiu… well, Ru Qiu’s presence was that of an Immortal in slumber, a storm contained within fragile skin. This arrogant child, standing so tall in the Fourth Realm of Spirit Mystery, was less than an ant to them both.

But Young Master Da seemed blind to the reality before him. He drew his sword with a flourish, slashing down toward their table in petty spite.

The strike never landed.

Without even lifting a finger, Ru Qiu’s black flames surged out like the breath of some ancient abyss. In an instant, the sword, the lackeys, and the young master himself all ignited and crumbled into ash, erased with casual cruelty. Screams erupted across the street as hysteria spread, the passersby scattering like startled birds.

“You should apologize,” said Ru Qiu softly, “for insulting such good food. The mortals who made these noodles have more worth than you ever did.”

But the one being scolded, the young master, was already dead.

Gu Jie blinked and the vision dissolved like smoke in the wind. The burning young master, his jeering lackeys, the arrogant laughter and flames. None of it had come to pass. It had only played out within her eyes, threads of possibility unraveling before her. She exhaled slowly, letting the tension bleed out of her shoulders.

“Another vision,” she muttered beneath her breath.

She rose from her seat, sliding the wooden window shut as if to cut herself off from the street outside. On the other side, the same young master and his entourage passed by without incident, their laughter shallow and harmless, their gazes never once turning her way.

Ru Qiu tilted his head, his sharp gaze following her movements. “What troubles you?”

“Nothing,” Gu Jie answered evenly, returning to her seat. Her tone was flat, and her was face unreadable.

He studied her for a moment longer, but when she gave him nothing, he let the silence return, his attention drifting back to the bowl before him.

Gu Jie lowered her eyes to her own noodles, but her mind did not rest. Quietly, she summoned the power within her sight. The world shimmered and fractured, with reality bending into a hundred different strands, each leading to its own future. She saw herself rise from the table again, walking with Ru Qiu at her side.

In one thread, she entered the city hall, poring over records with a careful eye. In another, she stepped through the public library’s worn doors, chasing knowledge left behind in mortal ink. In yet another, she traced the veins of the underground, shadowing smugglers and whispers, following trails that might lead her closer to her master and adoptive father.

The versions of her multiplied, fanning across the city, each acting with purpose, each unraveling secrets in their own path.

Yet in the only true reality, she remained seated, chopsticks in hand, eating noodles across from Ru Qiu.

"This is good food,” cried Ru Qiu. “Hmmm… Should we bring along the person who made them?”

“No.”

“We can give them a good salary.”

“No.”

“...”