Qizi Ch8

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 8

Ying Feng’s voice successfully stopped Ling Xiao’s struggles. Seeing that the person in his arms had become quiet, Ying Feng finally slowly lowered his hand.

Ling Xiao was held in an incredibly intimate posture, half-embraced by Ying Feng. Their bodies were pressed together without any gap. The breath exhaled by Ying Feng hit the nape of Ling Xiao’s neck, like invisible pigments mixed in, successfully turning that spot red.

Someone entered, and rustling sounds resonated throughout the lab. The two of them hid in a corner behind a cabinet, unsure of what was happening, and didn’t dare to peek out.

The door was opened again. The person who had come in earlier was evidently surprised by the newcomer, expressing his emotions with his voice. “Why are you here?”

It was a familiar male voice they had heard not long ago, gentle and refined.

“Don’t forget, I used to work here. I know very well what you’re up to.”

The second voice was even more familiar. Ling Xiao and Ying Feng exchanged glances knowingly. It was Dr. Yao. If they hadn’t reviewed the lab’s data earlier, they would have been very surprised by that statement.

Zhi Shang managed a forced smile. “I can’t hide anything from you. The situation is urgent now.” There was another round of clattering, and this time Ling Xiao heard the sound of glass clinking. Zhi Shang’s speech became much faster. “Driving an aircraft to the lighthouse is impossible, but luckily, we still have the ‘Embers II’ left by our mentor.”

“But the second generation of Embers wasn’t fully developed back then. Teacher said it’s only a prototype with severe side effects.”

“We can’t be picky now.”

Unable to suppress their curiosity, Ling Xiao and Ying Feng risked peeking out. Fortunately, the two inside were focused on their task and didn’t notice the unusual movement.

Dr. Yao saw Zhi Shang deftly extracting chemicals from a bottle into a syringe. She stopped him. “Let me do it. Don’t forget, I’m your Qizhu. My abilities surpass yours.”

Zhi Shang smiled and patted her head. “Your duty is to protect the fledglings. Mine is to protect this place. I don’t have much time. I need to go.”

After speaking, he lifted the syringe without hesitation, but his action paused in that instant.

Incredulity filled his eyes. “You…”

The two onlookers, Ling Xiao and Ying Feng, could see that Zhi Shang’s action wasn’t voluntary. His hand trembled, struggling to voice a single word.

Dr. Yao effortlessly took the syringe from him, placing a soft kiss on his lips and whispering in his ear, “A Qizhu’s command must be obeyed.”

Frozen, Zhi Shang watched as Dr. Yao injected the orange liquid into her body. She gave him a light smile and vanished in the blink of an eye.

The base alarm sounded again, and the danger level rose. The largest meteorite resulting from a planetary explosion was approaching rapidly, and the lighthouse was right in its path.

“Report: The meteorite will hit the lighthouse in one minute!”

“Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven…” The system started the countdown.

“Prepare the photon cannons,” the deputy researcher ordered.

“The firing angle isn’t ideal. The meteorite is too close to the lighthouse, and there’s a risk of collateral damage,” a staff member reported.

The deputy researcher slammed the control panel in frustration. Where on earth had the chief gone at this critical moment?

“Will the lighthouse be destroyed?” The students covered their mouths anxiously, some already on the verge of tears.

The staff looked deeply troubled. Despite working here for so long, this was the first time they had faced such a dire situation.

The system diligently counted down, “Ten, nine, eight…”

Just as everyone in the command center was at a loss, someone suddenly pointed at the monitor screen. “Look!”

A flash of light streaked by, and an almost transparent protective shield enveloped the lighthouse.

“Someone activated the emergency shield!”

Almost simultaneously, a massive meteorite with a trail of fire and thick smoke came from the horizon, directly hitting the lighthouse. A massive impact sound echoed, and the flying dust and smoke ruthlessly engulfed the lighthouse.

People stared anxiously at the monitor screen. After a while, the smoke dissipated, and the lighthouse stood intact.

Cheers and sighs of relief erupted in the hall. Some clutched their chests, some hugged passionately. For the students, it was their first time experiencing such a tense moment, feeling as if a century had passed.

Ling Xiao and Ying Feng hid in the shadows, oblivious to the events outside apart from a distant muffled sound. They could only watch as Zhi Shang remained frozen in place, as if under a spell, until the noise subsided, and the spell was lifted.

“A’Yao!” As soon as Zhi Shang could move, he rushed out.

Now was their chance. Ying Feng pushed Ling Xiao. “Go quickly!”

Ling Xiao dashed from their hiding spot towards the door. But after just a couple of steps, he doubled back. Ying Feng, who was already outside the laboratory’s main door, frowned. Before he could scold, Ling Xiao appeared again.

“This.” Ling Xiao opened his hand, revealing the unlocking device Ying Feng had forgotten.

Ying Feng held back his words, took the unlocking device, but felt that something was off about Ling Xiao.

“What are you holding?” He stared at Ling Xiao’s other hand, which Ling Xiao guiltily hid behind his back.

“Nothing. Let’s go before someone comes.”

Ying Feng didn’t have time to argue. They quickly returned to Zone G. Sure enough, staff were looking for the missing students. Seeing them, one approached. “Are you alright?”

“When the alarm sounded, we panicked and got lost,” Ying Feng calmly explained.

Ling Xiao feigned confusion. “What happened earlier?”

Ying Feng shot him a glance. Noticing his hands were empty, he wondered what he had taken from the lab and where he’d hidden it.

“There was a nearby asteroid disintegration, but the alarm has been cleared,” the staff explained. “It’s good you’re safe. I’ll take you back.”

“An asteroid disintegration? Is Dr. Yao and the other students okay?” Ling Xiao’s primary concern was the former, but to avoid suspicion, he pretended to know nothing about the earlier events in the lab.

“The students are in the main hall. No one was injured. Assistant Yao left a while ago, but she should be fine.”

“You just called her Assistant Yao?” Ling Xiao quickly picked up on the slip.

“Oh, no, Dr. Yao,” the staff corrected hastily. “I misspoke.”

Recalling the documents he’d seen earlier, Ling Xiao probed, “Actually, Dr. Yao mentioned she worked here before and was under a renowned mentor, something like Tai…”

This was a risky move by Ling Xiao, one that even made Ying Feng silently nervous.

The staff looked surprised. “You mean the former Chief Researcher Tai Yin? She told you about him? You two must be close.”

“Well, kind of.” Ling Xiao sighed in relief. “Dr. Yao often takes care of us and shares personal stories.”

“Dr. Yao… I mean, Assistant Yao, indeed worked as an assistant researcher here, but that was over thirty years ago,” the staff member shared.

“Not only that, she was a direct apprentice of the former Chief. The previous Chief rarely took apprentices, and in recent decades has only taken three. One of them is the current Chief you just met, Dr. Zhi Shang.”

“Why did Dr. Yao not continue working here but instead became a school doctor at our academy?”

The staff hesitated, then said, “It’s because of an incident over thirty years ago. The former Chief made an irreparable mistake. Assistant Yao and her junior chose to support their mentor.”

“After the former Chief left, the righteous Dr. Zhi Shang was promoted as the new Chief Researcher. Assistant Yao, who was about to become a formal researcher, was stripped of her qualifications due to the incident.”

Ling Xiao connected the dots. “What about Dr. Yao’s junior? Where is he now?”

“You mean Yu Quan? After realizing his mistake, he repented, reported his mentor to the military department, and made amends. He was allowed to stay, but given his qualifications, he should have been promoted a long time ago. However, he remains an assistant, a consequence of the past.”

Ling Xiao pondered. “What kind of person was the former Chief Tai Yin?”

The staff member thought for a moment. “Describing him as a genius is an understatement. He was upright, mature, and respected by all who worked with him. He was extremely intelligent and persistent, sticking to what he believed in. Perhaps it was this persistence that led him down a tragic path.”

He remembered the grief and regret from years ago. Every word he said came from the bottom of his heart. He once held profound admiration for Tai Yin, treating him like a guiding light. Tai Yin’s betrayal must have shattered the adoration of many people like him.

What surprised Ling Xiao more was that Dr. Yao was also involved in the event from those years. He wondered what role she played, torn between gratitude towards her mentor and justice. No doubt, Dr. Yao must have felt torn inside.

Walking and lost in thought, Ling Xiao suddenly saw the figures in his mind materialize in front of him. Dr. Zhi Shang was supporting a weak Yao Tai as they approached. Yao Tai’s face was flushed, and her breathing was rapid. She was clearly suffering from the side effects of some medication.

Upon seeing them, Ling Xiao immediately approached with concern. “Dr. Yao, are you okay?”

Yao Tai weakly shook her head. Zhi Shang spoke on her behalf. “A’Yao isn’t feeling well at the moment and won’t be able to take you back.”

Ling Xiao knew it wasn’t as simple as just feeling unwell, but he pretended to be ignorant. “Alright, Dr. Yao, please take care.”

Yao Tai managed a faint nod. Following them, Ying Feng gave her a slight nod, and they passed each other.

“Someone from the base will escort you back to the academy. We apologize for the unexpected turn during your field trip,” a staff member said.

“Don’t mention it. It was just an accident,” Ling Xiao thought to himself. If not for this accident, they wouldn’t have easily entered the lab. “Will you be the one escorting us back?”

“No, the base has strict regulations. Someone from the outside team will take care of that.”

“By the way, after all this talk, I still don’t know your name.”

The staff member smiled. “My name is He Gui. If you ever come back, feel free to reach out.”

Ling Xiao and Ying Feng followed He Gui back to the main hall. Three people rushed over upon their return. Ping Zong and Lan Sheng bombarded Ling Xiao with questions, while Zhu Yue naturally stood by Ying Feng.

Ling Xiao brushed off their inquiries with the excuse of getting lost, all the while stealing glances at Ying Feng. Ying Feng, on the other hand, seemed indifferent to Zhu Yue’s concerns and eventually started ignoring him.

Ling Xiao thought to himself, ‘If our blood were to mix, I wonder if you’d still act so indifferent towards him.’ But just entertaining this thought made him feel uneasy, a sense of suppression settling in his chest.

On the other side, Zhu Yue was quite unhappy. “Where did you go? Why were you with Ling Xiao?”

Ying Feng’s indifference wasn’t just toward Ling Xiao. He was equally cold to Zhu Yue, who was always chasing after him. “That’s none of your business.”

Zhu Yue had just made a significant decision, but Ying Feng’s continued indifference made his resolve waver. “I’m just worried about you.”

“I don’t need your concern.”

Ying Feng turned and walked away, leaving a hurt Zhu Yue biting his lip.

“The alarm has been lifted. The protective shield can be deactivated,” a voice from the command center announced.

Following the command, a staff member pressed the deactivation button. The protective shield that had been enveloping the base slowly descended. The unfiltered sunlight once again poured in, but to the naked eye, there was no discernible difference.

Deep within the base, on a windowsill, two drops of dark red liquid were present. One of the droplets quivered slightly, rolling to the side and merging intimately with the other.


The author has something to say:

In the Tianxiu galaxy, the star corresponding to the Sun is called Zhiyang1 and the planet corresponding to the Moon is called Haoyue2. Hence, the light they emit/reflect is called sunlight and moonlight. The reason for this setting is not due to the author’s laziness but to make it easier for you Earthlings to understand. It’s hard for the author to spread our star culture.

1Scorching sun.
2Bright Moon


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Qizi Ch7

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 7

Ling Xiao darted through the energy storages so fast that even if someone stared at the monitor without blinking, they could barely catch a fleeting shadow on the screen.

Ling Xiao sprinted from one end of the hall to the other, finally spotting the similarly swift Ying Feng around a corner.

“Don’t think of losing me.” Ling Xiao sped up to get in front of him. Ying Feng just glanced at him lightly, not surprised by his appearance. “Don’t forget, I’m also one of the shareholders.”

Ying Feng neither welcomed nor rejected him. He threw the chip he got from Zhen He into the air, then made a magnifying gesture. A transparent map opened up, showing detailed routes drawn in white lines. As they moved, the map moved with them, even rotating based on their orientation. Even the locations of the cameras along the way were meticulously marked.

Guided by it, they avoided surveillance and went straight to a secluded laboratory. A warning sign on the door read: Critical Research Area — Unauthorized Personnel Not Allowed.

Presumably, no one was expected to visit, so the door wasn’t locked. Ying Feng stowed away the map, and the two pushed the door open and entered.

The so-called critical research area was much more rudimentary than Ling Xiao expected—a few unidentified instruments, some differently colored potions, shelves piled with old archives, and an ordinary-looking old computer in the corner. Its model was so outdated that many now wouldn’t deign to use it.

“It seems that this Master Tai Yin really values old things,” be it people or objects.

Without a word, Ying Feng pressed the power button. The aged machine, not used for a long time, buzzed impatiently. Ling Xiao blew on the dusty keyboard, and a cloud of dust made him cough.

Before Ling Xiao blew the dust off, Ying Feng had already covered his nose and mouth. When the dust settled, Ling Xiao’s eyes, tearful from coughing, were revealed. He was still waving his hand in front of him, with visible dust particles dancing around.

“Idiot,” Ying Feng muttered under his breath.

Ling Xiao, with teary eyes, looked at him resentfully. He had blown the dust off, fearing his hands would get dirty while typing, but now he was too choked up to speak.

Not wanting to waste time, Ying Feng connected the unlocker given by Zhen He to the computer. A loading bar immediately appeared on the screen.

In a short while, the password was cracked, revealing an ancient operating system. Ling Xiao had only seen such an interface in history books about computers.

Ying Feng was rapidly typing on the keyboard. Not knowing where Ying Feng had learned how to operate such an antique machine, Ling Xiao was amazed. “How do you know how to use this?”

Knowing that Ling Xiao wouldn’t let it go if he didn’t reply, Ying Feng said, “There’s a place called the library.”

“You specifically borrowed books to learn an outdated operating system?” Ling Xiao couldn’t understand. “You really go all out searching for the lover of your past life.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Ying Feng was already browsing Tai Yin’s research logs, efficiently searching for keywords.

“This is it,” Hearing Ying Feng say this, Ling Xiao immediately leaned in to look. It was the first time their heads were this close.

—X Year, X Month, X Day. Today, Shang Yang tried to commit suicide. He stole my dagger and slit his wrist.

“So Tai Yin’s Qizi is called Shang Yang,” Ling Xiao commented upon reading. “I wonder if this name is from his past life or this one.”

“It’s definitely from a past life.”

“How do you know?”

“Because the journal is written by Tai Yin. No matter what his reincarnated form is named in this life, in his eyes, he’s always the past life’s Shang Yang.”

Ling Xiao couldn’t retort. He pursed his lips and continued reading.

—After I noticed his actions, I rushed to snatch the dagger from him. During the struggle, he also cut me. Our blood spilled to the ground at the same time. Then, something unbelievable happened.

—The blood from him, as if having a life of its own, flowed towards mine. It’s as if there was a magnetic pull between our blood. Both of us were stunned by this sight, and his suicidal act halted because of this.

—Eventually, our blood pooled together, with elements of me in him and him in me, becoming indistinguishable. I suspect that his blood in this life hasn’t been tainted and still carries the memories of the past life.

—If this hypothesis is true, then every fledgling who hasn’t undergone the coming-of-age ceremony can use this method to find their soulmate from a past life. Sadly, I can’t obtain more blood samples to prove this.

The research log ended here. The identification method described was much simpler than Ling Xiao had anticipated, but even Tai Yin himself couldn’t confirm its authenticity.

“Do you think what he wrote is credible?” After a long silence, Ling Xiao was the first to ask.

Ying Feng seemed to be pondering as well but didn’t respond.

After a brief moment, Ling Xiao asked, “Should we try it?”

Ying Feng frowned. “Try what?”

Ling Xiao turned his head to the computer beside them. This hint was clear enough for Ying Feng.

“There’s no need.” Ying Feng remained unmoved.

“Why not?” Ling Xiao stopped him as he was about to turn off the computer. “Do you think it’s impossible that we were connected in a past life? I also think it’s unlikely, but what if in our past lives, you were my Qizi…”

“It’s impossible,” Ying Feng coldly interrupted him. “Even if it’s from a past life, I couldn’t possibly be anyone’s Qizi.”

“How would you know without trying?” Ling Xiao provoked him without any emotion. “Or are you scared?”

Ying Feng swiftly drew his dagger. “Who goes first?”

All of Ling Xiao’s previous calm was just a facade. Seeing the dagger, he snatched it quickly. “Me first!”

Ying Feng looked displeased that his dagger had been taken. “Why don’t you use your own?”

“I didn’t bring it. Too much hassle.”

Ying Feng was speechless. A dagger was an essential weapon for every Tianxiu person, as crucial as a terminal or a card, yet Ling Xiao didn’t even carry one.

While Ying Feng silently judged him, Ling Xiao unhesitatingly pricked his fingertip. He looked around for a suitable place and finally chose a spacious windowsill. A drop of dark red liquid dripped onto the snow-white surface.

“It’s your turn.” He returned the dagger to Ying Feng, watching him do the same.

“It’s too far.” Ling Xiao quickly adjusted Ying Feng’s hand. “If it’s that far apart, the blood won’t flow together.”

“Are you done?” Ying Feng whispered angrily. “Just drip it together!”

Even though he said this, under Ling Xiao’s guidance, Ying Feng moved his fingertip and dripped his blood onto the windowsill, a finger’s breadth away from Ling Xiao’s blood.

Ling Xiao intently watched the two drops of blood on the windowsill, incredibly tense.

“Enough!” Upon hearing Ying Feng’s low shout, Ling Xiao realized he was still holding onto Ying Feng’s hand.

He immediately let go, rubbing his burning palm on his clothes. Ying Feng looked even more displeased.

Suddenly, one of the blood droplets quivered. The two men, filled with tension, turned their heads unbelievably to look at the windowsill, their shocked gazes almost piercing through it.

Far away, in an abandoned laboratory, no one knew that these two were conducting such a “ceremony”. Both were captivated by the images on a huge surveillance screen. Meteorites that survived the atmosphere, surrounded by roaring flames, whistled down from the sky. The 3D visual effect made people feel as if they were about to crash into the roof of the hall the next second.

It was the students’ first time witnessing this astronomical phenomenon so vividly. The brave ones watched intently, while the timid ones gasped. Seeing this rare educational opportunity, the instructor delegated tasks and started explaining the event to the students on the spot.

“Due to the presence of a nebula vortex around Tianxiu, asteroid disintegration events occur from time to time. To deal with such accidents, the base is equipped with a protective shield more advanced than that of the military. It not only prevents physical collisions but also resists high temperatures, radiation, magnetism, and toxins. Even the ultraviolet rays from the scorching sun are purified.”

For a better demonstration to the students and also for safety reasons, Zhi Shang ordered the staff to activate the base’s protective shield. A huge semi-circular transparent shield slowly rose from the ground, enveloping the entire base. The visibility of the shield was very low. If one didn’t look closely, they wouldn’t even notice it was there.

“Alright, now we are absolutely safe. Even if an asteroid falls directly on us, there’s nothing to worry about.”

This assurance calmed some, but a few students still looked anxious.

“Has our classmate been found?” This was asked by Ping Zong, who was worried about Ling Xiao.

“Ying Feng hasn’t returned either. Has anyone seen him?” Zhu Yue seemed to be the first to notice Ying Feng’s absence.

“Everyone, please stay calm. Our colleagues are already checking the relevant areas. Other students, please stay here and don’t act on your own.” A staff member stopped Zhu Yue, who looked eager to move.

Meanwhile, the person Zhu Yue had in mind, contrary to his usual calm, was staring intently at the two drops of blood on the windowsill. They sat still, making one wonder if the previous vibration was just their imagination.

A minute passed, and the blood remained unchanged. Ying Feng was the first to snap out of it, thinking he was foolish to have participated in this experiment with Ling Xiao. Even more foolish was that, for a moment, he felt nervous.

“Now are you satisfied?” His voice was back to its usual cold tone.

Ling Xiao’s face went through several expressions in a split second, which even he couldn’t interpret, let alone Ying Feng.

Activating the base’s protective shield was indeed an overreaction. Most of the falling meteorites were burned up mid-air, leaving only thick smoke. A few survivors crashed into the sea, creating huge waves.

“Isn’t the lighthouse by the sea?” Lan Sheng asked after watching for a while.

“Yes,” Zhi Shang replied.

“Then, isn’t the lighthouse in the most dangerous position?”

As if to prove his bad luck, a staff member urgently reported, “Chief, we’ve spotted a large meteorite. Based on its trajectory, it’s heading straight for the lighthouse!”

“Activate the lighthouse’s protective shield,” Zhi Shang ordered calmly.

“Yes!”

A moment of silence.

“Report! There’s a malfunction in the remote control of the lighthouse’s protective shield. It’s not activating!”

“What?”

Zhi Shang rushed to the controls, trying the activation multiple times, but there was no response from the lighthouse’s direction.

“Don’t we have daily routine checks? Who was in charge of security today?”

“Report, it was me!” A man stepped forward. Upon seeing him, Zhi Shang frowned. This assistant researcher named Yu Quan was introverted and rarely communicated with others.

Zhi Shang, in his official capacity, was his current superior and, privately, his former senior brother*. But even with this dual relationship, the two seldom communicated beyond necessary work discussions.

*[Shixiong] (师兄) Term used to refer to a male person respectfully who is more senior or older. In this context, it’s similar to senpai.

“Did you check the activation device today?”

“Yes, everything was fine at the time.”

“Then why the sudden malfunction?”

Yu Quan’s poker face remained unchanged. “I don’t know.”

“Calculate the remaining time before the meteorite might hit the lighthouse.”

The answer came almost immediately. “Two minutes thirty seconds, twenty-nine, twenty-eight…”

Zhi Shang handed over the on-site command to his deputy and entered the teleportation device inside the hall.

“Chief, where are you going?”

“There’s a backup manual activation button on the lighthouse.”

“But you can’t possibly make it there in such a short time…” Before the deputy could finish his sentence, Zhi Shang had already disappeared into the teleporter.

“Hey, come take a look at this.” Ling Xiao randomly flipped through files in Tai Yin’s lab and found something intriguing on one of the pages.

He pointed at a photo in the file. “Isn’t this Dr. Yao’s Qizi, Dr. Zhi Shang?”

Ling Xiao flipped back to the cover of the file to double-check. “So, Tai Yin used to be Dr. Zhi Shang’s mentor.”

Ying Feng turned off the computer and chimed in, “They were successive chief researchers of the base. It’s not surprising they have a teacher-student relationship.”

Ling Xiao turned to the next page and exclaimed, “So, Dr. Yao was also a student of Tai Yin? She was a researcher at the base too?”

This news piqued Ying Feng’s interest, and he came over to browse the file with Ling Xiao. Tai Yin had very few students, and the list ended on the next page.

“So, the three last apprentices the genius Chief Researcher took before defecting are Dr. Zhi Shang, Dr. Yao, and this… Assistant Researcher named Yu Quan. Zhen He said Tai Yin was exposed because of the betrayal of one of his students. Could it be one of these three?”

Ling Xiao mused, “Now one of them is the chief, one went to a primary academy as a health doctor, and the third’s whereabouts are unknown. Who knows what they were doing when their teacher caused such a huge commotion back then.”

Ling Xiao casually placed the file back where he found it. His attention was then drawn to the brightly colored potions on the experiment table.

“What are these…”

Before he could finish, a powerful force dragged him to the corner of the lab. Instinctively, he tried to scream, but his mouth was covered.

“Somebody’s here!”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Qizi Ch6

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 6

The moment this was mentioned, everyone was tense. The word ‘death’ was too distant for the children, let alone the scattering of their souls.

“In the early stages of life, any species is at its most vulnerable. This is especially true for us, the Tianxiu people.”

“Because our souls are reincarnated, the loss of any soul is an irreversible loss for the entire tribe. To maintain our population, every adult Tianxiu will spare no effort to protect the lives of the young. As fledglings, you must always remember that nothing is more precious than your life. Always prioritize self-protection. When in danger, the primary choice is to flee. Never be reckless or try to show off your strength. Do you understand?” Zhi Shang advised solemnly.

A sense of purpose filled the hearts of every student present. For the first time, they realized how important it was to protect themselves.

“So, what are the lives of people from other planets like, those who don’t have souls and reincarnation?”

“That’s a good question,” praised Zhi Shang. “Every species has its unique way of reproducing. Take, for example, the beings from the nearby planet Wolfsbane.” He adjusted a projection device, and a three-dimensional image of a Wolfsbane inhabitant appeared.

“The children of the Wolfsbane people are entirely beastly. Compared to other species’ young, Wolfsbane children born in a wild state have stronger survival abilities, but their period of higher intelligence comes a bit later. Over their childhood, they gradually master the ability to transform. By adolescence, they can effortlessly switch between their two forms. Their average lifespan is between two to three hundred years, with their prime lasting about 97% of their life. Just like their prepubescent stage, during their brief old age, they can exist only in their beast form, and then they die.”

“When a Wolfsbane dies, others will return their bodies to the earth. Interestingly, even though they are carnivores, they have a stronger belief in the earth than any other race. The food they rely on comes from the planet, and in death, they become nutrients to nourish the soil in return. This is a tribe filled with wild instincts, who love nature, value freedom, and now, they are our vassals.”

“What does ‘vassal’ mean?”

“It means a tribe that has been defeated in war and has chosen to surrender. Every year they present tribute to signify their subjugation. There are six such nations in this galaxy.”

The students exclaimed in surprise. “Are we really that strong?”

Zhi Shang smiled. “You’ll find out when you become adults and get the opportunity to travel to other planets. The differences between us and other species are not just in the way we reproduce.”

The students listened with rapt attention. “Are there other ways of reproducing?”

“Yes, there are.” Zhi Shang clicked the remote, and the holographic projection changed. “This is a human from Earth, quite far from us. They are born in this small baby form.”

An image of a human baby crawling in mid-air was shown, occasionally trying to stand, falling, and trying again.

“Wow, that’s so cute!” many female students couldn’t help but exclaim.

“Human babies are born with no memory or survival skills, which means they have to learn as much as they can in the shortest amount of time. From basic walking, eating, speaking to self-protection, all these skills must be acquired.”

“Isn’t that exhausting?”

“It is, but it’s also fulfilling. We Tianxiu might never truly understand the joy they call ‘childhood’.”

The baby eventually stood up after multiple attempts and started walking, running, jumping without any assistance, transitioning into a form resembling a young Tianxiu.

“What you’re seeing now is a human teenager, about fifteen or sixteen years old. They have a standardized age of adulthood, typically eighteen, though it may vary. Crossing this age indicates that one is an adult, regardless of their mental maturity.”

“Upon reaching adulthood, humans can legally mate and reproduce. Most countries practice monogamy, but their marital systems are not as steadfast as the Tianxiu’s and can be dissolved anytime.”

The projection continued, quickly showing the students the cycle of a human’s life: adulthood, partnership, reproduction, aging, and finally death, ending in ashes.

“It’s truly incredible.” They were shocked upon learning for the first time that in the vast universe, there existed species that lived in such a form.

“Earthlings have a much shorter lifespan compared to us. Because they reproduce sexually, everyone has a family. In the language of Earth, these family members are called father, mother, brother, sister…”

The students also unconsciously murmured these unfamiliar words, finding them surprisingly easy to pronounce.

“The people of Tianxiu don’t have such a large family system as Earthlings, and there’s no blood relation. However, we can also have family,” he said with a smile, looking at Yao Tai. “A’Yao is my family. In the future, you too will have families of your own.”

“But we don’t have brothers or sisters…”

Zhi Shang thought for a moment. “Has anyone ever wondered, since we are transformed from souls, where our names come from?”

Everyone realized they had never thought about this question and were completely clueless.

“The answer lies in the energy chambers. After each soul returns, we place them in sequence. Each chamber has its surname, and there’s a fixed order for given names. By combining the two, we get everyone’s current names.”

Realization dawned on everyone.

“So… I’ve secretly thought this way. Those who slumber and awaken in the same energy chamber as us, sharing the same surname, aren’t they our siblings?”

“Ah,” many had a sudden epiphany, “Without even realizing, we have so many family members. Doctor, may I take a look at the energy chamber where I was placed?”

“Of course.” Zhi Shang smiled. “You can search for your surnames on the panel to my right and find your respective chambers there.”

Excited, the students rushed to the panel. Ling Xiao, with his sharp eyes, quickly found his family’s section. Following the signs, he realized the hall was even more vast than he had imagined. All the staff members he encountered were using small vehicles to move around, indicating the vast expanse of the place.

“Ling, Ling, Ling…” He searched among the chambers until he found his family’s chamber.

“This is where I woke up…” He touched the chamber’s seal, feeling a deep sense of connection.

Names of those who had awakened from this chamber were densely recorded on its side. Ling Xiao’s name was clearly at the end. Those before him were his ancestors.

“Ling Yang, Ling Lang, Ling Daoxi… I wonder if they’re still alive,” Ling Xiao muttered.

The names of souls currently in stasis stood out. Ling Xiao couldn’t help but read one out loud. “Ling, Xiao, Lu. You must be my younger brother…”

He found the word, which required the tip of his tongue to come in contact with his teeth twice to pronounce, very endearing. He repeated it clearly, “Brother, brother, I too now have a family.”

He carefully leaned onto the sealed chamber, pressing his ear against it, hoping to hear a heartbeat inside. “I hope you wake up soon…”

Everything around him became quiet, leaving only the rhythmic sound of heartbeats. Ling Xiao closed his eyes, looking so peaceful, as if asleep.

After what felt like a long time, Ling Xiao slowly opened his eyes to see a complicated character in his vision. It took a moment for the image to become clear, revealing the character ‘Ying’.

In his groggy state, Ling Xiao felt that the character looked familiar. He seemed to have seen it somewhere before.

Glancing at his chamber’s “Ling” and then at the neighboring “Ying”, he jumped back half a meter when he caught sight of Ying Feng standing there. How long had he been there? Out of the corner of his eye, he then noticed Ying Feng. He wasn’t sure when Ying Feng had started standing there. Could it be…?

Thinking of his childish behavior just now, Ling Xiao wished he could scoop a ladle of water from the purification pool and pour it over himself, hoping to erase the other’s memory of the incident.

“Why are you here?” Ling Xiao asked, defensively.

Ying Feng gave him a look as if he were crazy, walked straight to the neighboring chamber, which had a soul sleeping inside named Ying Zheng.

Ling Xiao quickly put two and two together, realizing why the character looked familiar. The chamber next to his belonged to Ying Feng’s family. Looking at the distance between the two chambers, not even a meter apart, it was almost like sharing a bed. Had he and Ying Feng been neighbors for the past decade or two during their slumber?

Ying Feng ignored Ling Xiao, who was glaring at him from the side, and mimicked his previous action by raising his right hand, letting it hover in the air. Ling Xiao, for some inexplicable reason, began to feel nervous, swallowing unconsciously. Could he also sense that peculiar feeling?

Neither of them made a sound, and the atmosphere felt as if it had frozen over.

A voice broke the silence. “Huh? You two are here too?”

Ling Xiao, as if suddenly awakened, turned his head to look. “Why are you here?”

The newcomer was Ping Zong. “I’m in this section too.” He pointed to a big character “Ping” next to him, which was just across the aisle from Ling Xiao. “Seems like we were staying close by all along.”

“Yes.” Ling Xiao glanced at Ying Feng, who was still in the same position, motionless. “I wonder what criteria they used to assign these spots.”

“It must be based on pronunciation. Haven’t you noticed? ‘Ling’, ‘Ying’, and ‘Ping’—their pronunciations are all quite similar?”

After some contemplation, Ling Xiao realized it was true. He quickly looked to his left. “It seems so. On my side, it’s ‘Ming’.”

“My neighbor’s is ‘Jing’…and then there’s ‘Bing’.”

The two of them found a new point of interest. They went from one compartment to another, calling out surnames. The previously quiet hall was suddenly filled with their cheerful shouts.

“It’s too noisy,” Ling Xiao heard Ying Feng mutter as he returned to where he started.

Just as Ling Xiao was about to retort, a piercing alarm sounded overhead, one sharp siren after another.

“What’s happening?” Ling Xiao became alert.

“Let’s gather first and then discuss!” Ping Zong was already sprinting toward the control center. Ling Xiao followed closely, but halfway there, he glanced back and noticed that Ying Feng wasn’t following.

He hesitated, slowing down unconsciously. Ping Zong noticed his hesitation. “What’s wrong?”

Ling Xiao clenched his fist. “You go on ahead; I’ll catch up soon!”

“Hey!” Ping Zong tried to call him back, but Ling Xiao had already turned and was sprinting back the way they came, leaving only a blurry silhouette for Ping Zong to see.

With no other option, Ping Zong hurried to the main control area, finally finding relief upon locating Lan Sheng.

“What’s going on?”

Lan Sheng, who had arrived earlier and had some information, replied, “Astronomical warning. A nearby asteroid has unexpectedly disintegrated. It’s predicted that meteors might fall in this vicinity.”

While asteroid disintegration was a common event here, Ping Zong noticed that despite the continuous alarms, all staff were working in an orderly manner with no sign of panic.

The energy storage management panel was quickly switched to a large astronomical monitoring screen. Complex numbers and symbols flickered rapidly on the projection. Lan Sheng and the others didn’t understand it, but they knew the most important structure of Tianxiu displayed at the center of the screen was the Soul Lighthouse.

Security staff began directing students to safe areas, and everyone was anxious, asking the adults questions.

“What exactly is happening?”

“Is this place going to be hit by a meteor?”

“Are we in danger?”

Staff tried to calm the students while maintaining order. “Don’t worry; it’s just a minor incident. The base can ensure everyone’s safety.”

Ping Zong struggled to get to the front of the crowd.

We have one… no, two students who haven’t returned.”

His words caught the attention of the staff. “Where are they?”

“They were last seen in Section G3.”

The staff member quickly relayed this information to a colleague over a communicator. After a brief conversation, he reassured Ping Zong, “Don’t worry, we’ve dispatched staff to that area to search for them. We’ll ensure the safety of every student!”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Qizi Ch5

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 5

The chilling term “execution” successfully intimidated the young students.

“If someone commits a grave crime, severe enough to irreversibly harm the entire race, the military tribunal has the right to sentence them to death. This is the highest punishment under our country’s law. But because the conditions for the sentence are stringent, no one has been sentenced to death for many years. The intention of the military is to completely abolish the death penalty in the foreseeable future.”

“Then won’t this building become obsolete?”

“Not necessarily…” Yao Tai hesitated, which was rare. “There is another purpose for it—euthanasia. Perhaps because the Tianxiu people do not truly die, they do not cherish their lives as other species do. Every year, some choose to come here voluntarily to end their lives early.”

The students looked at each other. “Why?”

“Because of the death of their other half, many bereaved Tianxiu people don’t want to live alone.” Yao Tai looked at the execution room with complex emotions. “They superstitiously believe that if they die around the same time, they will enter the cycle of reincarnation together, wake up together, meet, and fall in love again…”

Ling Xiao was engrossed. “Is that true?”

“The truth is, after souls pass through the purification pool, all memories from their past lives vanish. The appearance and character of their next incarnation are generated randomly. They become an entirely new life, having nothing to do with their past life. Not to mention that each soul slumbers for different durations. Even if they die at the same time, they might not awaken simultaneously. Finding a forgotten person to fall in love again in the vast sea of people, while seemingly a beautiful wish, is as unrealistic as a dream.”

“That’s why scientists are the least romantic beings in the world.” Lan Sheng sighed. “They don’t even leave people with the slightest beautiful hope.”

“I’m curious about who Dr. Yao’s other half is. If they’re also a rigid scientist like her, it must be so boring for them to be together all the time,” Ling Xiao whispered mischievously.

“You guys,” Ping Zong said, half-amused and half-exasperated, “Do you really believe that if you die together in this life, you’ll meet again in the next?”

“I don’t,” Lan Sheng replied earnestly. “A lifetime is just that—one lifetime. I know what you look like in this life, your character, how you are. All of this is what I like in this life. But in the next life, what you’ll look like, who you’ll be, who you’ll be with—all that is unimaginable to me. So, I won’t pin my hopes on an uncertain next life. If you unfortunately leave me in this life, I’ll live on cherishing the memories of you.”

The two gazed deeply into each other’s eyes, rendering everything else as mere background.

“You two, can’t you go a day without being so lovey-dovey?” Ling Xiao exaggeratedly rubbed his arms. “If you don’t both go die for love soon, I might just die from the cringe.”

“Fuck off,” Lan Sheng cursed with a smile, pulling himself and Ping Zong out of their romantic daze. They passed the execution room and continued through a series of buildings, including a medical examination center, security check center, finally arriving at the core of their tour—the Hall of Reincarnation.

Ling Xiao had thought a place named as such would be a religious temple, but he was surprised to find a modern, state-of-the-art facility filled with high-tech equipment. The white-themed interior resembled both a hospital and a research institute so vast that one couldn’t see its boundaries at a glance.

The institute’s manager was already waiting for them at the entrance. He was refined and elegant, wearing gold-rimmed glasses. Underneath the lenses were light-colored eyes that seemed to smile all the time.

Yao Tai took the lead and walked over. Under the watchful eyes of everyone, she exchanged a light kiss with the other party. The students were so shocked that they widened their eyes in disbelief. ‘What kind of strange etiquette is this?’

“Let me introduce everyone. This is my spouse, and also the chief researcher here. You can call him Dr. Zhi Shang.”

The students were left with their mouths hanging open, especially Ling Xiao and Lan Sheng. They had just been gossiping about said person, and suddenly, the very person appeared in front of them, looking nothing like the stereotypical “rigid scientist” they had imagined.

Zhi Shang was almost the same height as Yao Tai in high heels, and he had contrasting eye colors that were easily identified.

“Hello, students,” Zhi Shang greeted politely with a nod. “Welcome to the base. I’m honored to be your guide today, and I will be explaining everything in the main hall to you.”

At this moment, the students seemed more curious about the gossip than anything else, and the friendly-looking Dr. Zhi Shang was soon surrounded by them.

“Doctor, so you’re Dr. Yao’s Qizi. It’s the first time I’ve heard that Dr. Yao’s Qizi is such an impressive researcher!”

“You both look so perfect together. I’ve always been curious about who a beauty like Dr. Yao would choose, and seeing you in person, I’m not disappointed.”

Zhi Shang always had a smile on his face, patiently answering any questions the students had. If he couldn’t answer, he just smiled, showing no signs of impatience.

In contrast, Yao Tai wasn’t as patient. “Hey, this is a visit for the physiological class. Can’t you ask questions related to the course?”

“We are asking relevant questions. Understanding the work and life of a Qizi is related to physiological health, isn’t it?”

“That’s right,” someone immediately chimed in. “I always thought a Qizi would have a lower status in their jobs. I was shocked to hear that the doctor is the chief researcher here!”

Everyone agreed with her.

Zhi Shang chuckled. “Did A’Yao* scare you with talks of hierarchy in spousal relationships? While there might be imbalances between a Qizhu and a Qizi, everyone is equal in society. There are many Qizhu researchers under me, and they all listen to me just the same.”

*() When used as an address, it signifies a close or intimate relationship.

“Oh, I see,” a student exclaimed, patting his chest. “I was so scared. I thought becoming a Qizi would affect my future career.”

“Your concerns aren’t entirely baseless. A Qizhu usually has stronger combat abilities than a Qizi, so they dominate in some combat fields. But in other aspects, everyone competes equally. Isn’t your principal a good example?”

Upon his mention, everyone realized that their principal was a Qizi. They recalled how the principal once demolished half a building with a single punch to catch some rule-breaking senior students. With such power, they never linked him with the term Qizi. It was as deceptive as his youthful face.

“My God, I can’t imagine who defeated the principal during the coming-of-age ceremony.”

Hearing this, everyone nodded vigorously.

“That’s not something you kids should worry about,” Yao Tai dismissively said.

“Dr. Yao is so fierce. Does she always bully you, Doctor?” a student whispered.

“That’s right. At home, Dr. Yao makes all the decisions, right? After all, the Qizhu’s word is the law.”

“You’re a boy, and she’s a girl. How could you not defeat her?”

Zhi Shang smiled before answering. “I didn’t lose to her. I willingly gave her my heart’s blood and happily became her Qizi.”

Many students looked confused. “Why?”

“Because I love her. As long as I can be with her, I don’t care in what capacity,” he answered simply.

“But, it’s said that there’s a great difference in status between the Qizhu and the Qizi. Even if one loves someone dearly, how could they willingly let themselves be manipulated for a lifetime?”

Zhi Shang lowered his eyes in thought. “I didn’t feel a great difference in our statuses after we became spouses. A’Yao and I were childhood friends. We fell in love when we were in our fledgling phase for three years and got together when we were eleven. The relationship was the same before and after. I’ve always respected her, and of course she has always respected me. The kind of hierarchy difference you imagine… might exist, but at least not between us.”

“How romantic.” A girl in the crowd looked dreamy hearing this. “So it can be like this.”

“The relationship between a Qizhu and a Qizi is actually like this. There might be brutal influences, but it could also be nominal. As long as the hearts of the two people are equal, their status is equal, regardless of their relationship.”

“Wow,” the crowd exclaimed in unison. “No wonder. Dr. Yao has said exactly the same thing.”

Zhi Shang and Yao Tai exchanged a smile, as if they had expected this outcome.

“Doctor,” Zhi Yue, who had been standing outside the crowd with Ying Feng, suddenly spoke up. “Do you regret offering your heart’s blood willingly?”

Zhi Shang shook his head firmly. “Not for a moment.”

“Even if it meant sacrificing your own development?” he pressed.

Zhi Shang looked at himself, puzzled. “I am quite satisfied with my own development. Besides,” he glanced at Yao Tai with a sly smile, “someone now has more alluring curves, which is a feast for my eyes, isn’t it?”

Upon hearing his words, Zhi Yue clenched his fist as if making a certain decision. The crowd of kids began to holler and whistle, while Yao Tai glared at Zhi Shang. Despite the seemingly disdainful look in her eyes, the slight upturn of her lips revealed a hidden smile.

“Alright.” Zhi Shang cleared his throat exaggeratedly. “Let’s get back to the point. If we keep going off-topic, your Dr. Yao will be unhappy, and occasionally I should pretend to fear my Qizhu, shouldn’t I?”

The students were quickly won over by Zhi Shang’s charm and listened attentively to everything he said next.

“I presume A’Yao already explained to you all outside. After a Tianxiu dies, their souls return here, guided by the lighthouse, undergo the baptism of the purification pool, and reach here.”

Zhi Shang led the group towards the operating station, pressed a control button, and a sealed chamber of one of the devices opened, revealing a glass cover. Inside, a young boy was sleeping. Unlike the others, his body was semi-transparent.

“What you see now is what we call an energy chamber. We place the returned souls in the energy chamber, and after some time of cultivation, the souls form a humanoid shape. Initially, the transparency is very high, but it will gradually settle down. When it becomes a solid entity like us, it’s the day the soul awakens. This period varies from person to person, usually requiring ten to twenty years.”

“So long?”

“Compared to the lifespan of the Tianxiu people, it’s already very short. The average fledgling phase of a Tianxiu person is ten years. The lifespan of an adult varies greatly. Some people can only live for one to two hundred years; some can live up to three to four hundred years. According to current research, the better the relationship between spouses, the longer their lifespan.”

“Spousal relationships are very important for every Tianxiu person. Only with a close partner can one develop fully. If you separate from your spouse before you are fully developed, whether you are a Qizhu or a Qizi, although technically an adult, you will still retain the appearance and physique of a fledgling.”

“Adult development is not infinite; everyone has a peak. Once this peak is reached, the body will stop developing and maintain this state—also known as the optimal state—until nominal death. There will be no regression, no aging.”

“But no matter how long a Tianxiu’s life is, as long as it’s a normal death, they will have a premonition before the end. Because we are a ‘non-dying’ race, we don’t fear death, even consider it a ceremony worth celebrating. Everyone will gather friends for a last reunion before their end, sometimes even escort the dying person here, waiting for the end.”

“Does everyone return here after death?”

Zhi Shang shook his head regretfully. “That’s not the case. There’s a type of people whose death is considered unfit for society and should be eliminated by the survival of the fittest mechanism. Once such people die, their souls scatter, never to exist in this world again.”

The crowd asked anxiously, “Who are these people?”

Zhi Shang looked at the students with eyes full of concern. “It’s you—all fledglings who haven’t undergone the coming-of-age ceremony.”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Qizi Ch4

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 4

Ling Xiao wasn’t truly fixated on his partner from a previous life. However, Zhen He’s words undoubtedly caught Ying Feng’s attention. Seeing the other party hesitate and then decide to return, Ling Xiao pretended to be interested and stayed as well.

“The base hold the secret to finding a partner in a previous life? Are you sure about this?” Ying Feng asked.

“No, I’m not,” Zhen He replied confidently. “I only heard about this rumor. I can’t guarantee it’s true.”

“If even the intel is uncertain, aren’t you just a scammer?” Ling Xiao interjected.

“Whether I’m a scammer or not depends on the needs of the buyer. Some might think this information isn’t worth a dime, while others might be willing to pay a hefty price, even if it’s just for the slightest chance.”

“I don’t believe it. Who would buy intel that might not even be true? That person must be crazy.”

“Name your price,” Ying Feng straightforwardly declared.

Ling Xiao couldn’t believe his ears. “You want to buy it?”

Zhen He, even more straightforwardly, simply raised five fingers to signify the price.

“That expensive?” Ling Xiao felt that calling Zhen He merely a scammer was an understatement. The price was equivalent to their two months’ living expenses.

“That’s a friendly price considering you’re fledglings and alumni. If it were someone from outside, the price would be much higher.”

Ling Xiao wanted to argue further, but before he could, he saw Ying Feng already taking out his card.

“I like doing business with decisive people like you,” Zhen He remarked, reaching out for the card, only to be stopped by Ling Xiao.

“Hold on!” Ling Xiao interjected, halting the two in the midst of their transaction. Both turned their attention to him.

“You really want to buy this?” Ling Xiao asked Ying Feng.

“What’s it to you?” Ying Feng shot back.

After a quick thought about the balance on his card, Ling Xiao said, “I want to pitch in and buy it with you.”

However, Ying Feng was unmoved by the suggestion. “If you want to know, buy it yourself.” He once again tried to hand over his card.

This time, Ling Xiao grabbed Ying Feng’s wrist. “Isn’t my proposal beneficial for you too? You could save half the money.”

Ying Feng glanced at Ling Xiao, then at Zhen He, who simply shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me. Whether one or two people hear the information, it’s the same.”

Given Zhen He’s indifference, Ying Feng eventually agreed. “Fine.”

When the card was swiped, Ling Xiao sneaked a peek at Ying Feng’s account. He was shocked by the amount Ying Feng had saved, which explained why Ying Feng didn’t hesitate earlier. In comparison, Ling Xiao, who had nearly no savings, wondered how he would manage the upcoming days without money due to this impulsive decision.

“You can tell us now,” Ling Xiao said, grimacing at his nearly depleted account balance. He vowed that if the information turned out to be false, he’d come back and wreck the shop.

“Of course,” Zhen He said, twirling a ring on his finger. “It all began with the former chief researcher of the base, Tai Yin. As a top executive of the base, it would’ve been easy to discover a reincarnated soul’s identity, but doing so was strictly forbidden by law.”

“Why?” Ling Xiao curiously interrupted.

“It’s to maintain the stability of the Tianxiu partner system. As you listen, you’ll understand.”

Zhen He sorted out the topics before he was interrupted and continued, “Tai Yin was a genius in the scientific world. His most renowned invention was a chemical drug that greatly enhances combat capabilities in a short period. The military named it ‘Embers’.”

“That restricted drug only for the military?” Ling Xiao had heard of Embers.

“Exactly. Tai Yin had numerous significant inventions throughout his life. ‘Embers’ was just one of his well-known works. His extraordinary accomplishments were due not only to his exceptional abilities but also his longevity. The last time he appeared in public, he was 436 years old—a truly venerable age even among the people of Tianxiu.”

“More than four hundred years…” Ling Xiao mused, wondering what it felt like to live for so long.

“But longevity has its drawbacks. The longer one lives, the more farewells one must face. In the latter half of Tai Yin’s life, he witnessed the departure of many close friends. Although the people of Tianxiu generally accept death, after his beloved Qizi passed away, he inevitably went astray.”

“Going astray?”

“He used his position to track his Qizi’s soul. When the other party was reincarnated and awakened, he kidnapped the unaware young reincarnation and secretly imprisoned them.”

Ling Xiao was shocked. “But Dr. Yao said that each soul only has one chance for the coming-of-age ceremony in each lifetime. Even if one’s partner passes away, they can’t form a bond with someone else.”

“What you said is absolutely right. That’s why Tai Yin and his reincarnated Qizi found themselves in a stalemate—he couldn’t have them, and he wouldn’t allow anyone else to either. The young reincarnation was forced to remain youthful, unable to mature or grow. Now you see why the law strictly prohibits tracking the whereabouts of reincarnated souls.”

Ling Xiao frowned deeply.

“Of course, Tai Yin cared about this issue more than you do. So, before his actions were exposed, he had been secretly researching ways to dissolve the original partner bond. Unfortunately, his research was halted when he was betrayed by his own student. The young reincarnation managed to escape with the student’s help and reported Tai Yin’s deeds to the military, revealing the truth.”

“And then?” Ling Xiao, engrossed in the story, eagerly asked.

“When the military publicly arrested him, he injected himself with an enhanced version of ‘Ember’, twenty times more potent than the original, single-handedly broke through the military’s siege, and once again abducted the innocent young reincarnation. The two have been missing ever since, still on the run.”

With just a few sentences, Zhen He vividly painted a dramatic picture in Ling Xiao’s mind. He only wished he had been awake earlier to witness these events.

While Ling Xiao was lost in thought, he heard Ying Feng ask, “So Tai Yin found his past life’s Qizi using his position. This information is useless to me.”

With an expression showing “I knew you would say that”, Zhen He said, “It’s true that Tai Yin used his position to find his past life’s Qizi, but during his research, he accidentally discovered a method to identify if two people were connected in their past lives. This method is said to be recorded on his personal computer.”

“How can I find that computer?”

“That computer is still in his lab, which is located somewhere within the base.”

“Somewhere?” Ling Xiao thought the description was too vague.

Zhen He conjured a small chip and threw it in the air. It expanded into a map with a pinch of his fingers.

“This is the complete floor plan of the base. I’m sure you’ll find it useful. The value of this map alone exceeds the cost of the information you’ve paid for. Additionally, I’m lending you this as a favor.”

“What is this?” Ling Xiao looked at the USB-like device handed to Ying Feng.

“Even if you find Tai Yin’s computer, you won’t be able to access his personal system. This is a universal unlocking device that can automatically crack his password. Remember, this is just a loan. Once you return from the base, please make sure to return it.”

……

The long-awaited second physiology class finally arrived. The tenth-grade students of Bikong Academy arrived at the base’s main entrance via aircraft and were immediately awed by the majestic sculpture of the word “Zero” at the entrance. This simple word “Zero” was the true name of the base, while the term “base” was just its colloquial name.

“Zero,” Ling Xiao pronounced the word as if reciting, and just when Lan Sheng and others thought he was about to express some profound sentiment, he continued, “Xiao was here*.”

*Clarity: Zero is [ling] () which is a homonym for his surname [Ling] (), so he’s basically cracking a joke since his surname is pronounced the same as the base’s name.

“Idiot!” Lan Sheng promptly kicked his ass.

“What was that for?” Ling Xiao exclaimed, rubbing the sore spot. “Don’t you think this word and I have a connection?”

“All I think is that you’re being stupid,” Lan Sheng remarked, feigning disgust. “Don’t disgrace that surname.”

The group continued to marvel at the sculpture, with many students taking photos. Once they had their fill, the guide, Yao Tai, began her inquiry.

“Does anyone know why this place is named ‘Zero’?”

The students looked at each other, shaking their heads in unison, clueless.

Yao Tai solemnly explained, “Zero is the starting point of positive numbers and the endpoint of negative numbers. On the infinite number line, it always occupies the central position. For the Tianxiu people, this place is the beginning of our awakening, the end of our silence, and the midpoint of our souls.”

“After living our lives, no matter where we are, our souls return here for a brief rest and purification until they find a new body and enter a new life in slumber. Look over there.” Yao Tai pointed to the tallest building in the north. “That is the Soul Lighthouse, a beacon for departed Tianxiu souls. If it falls, our souls would be lost. Hence, every generation of Tianxiu people must shoulder the responsibility of guarding this lighthouse, and you will too in the future.”

Gazing at the towering lighthouse, the students felt a profound sense of belonging.

“I feel like there’s a voice calling out to me,” Ling Xiao murmured.

“Me too,” Lan Sheng added, looking distant. “As if something is pulling me towards it.”

Ling Xiao glanced over and noticed Ying Feng, who was away from the crowd, gazing in the same direction. His expression was as aloof as always, but there was a rare hint of gentleness in his eyes.

Ying Feng, sensing someone’s gaze, looked directly into Ling Xiao’s eyes. The brief tenderness vanished, replaced by his usual sharpness.

Caught off guard, like a child caught doing something wrong, Ling Xiao quickly turned away, feeling flustered. His heart was pounding.

After calming himself, he wondered why he had felt so guilty.

He defiantly looked back, only to find Ying Feng’s attention had shifted elsewhere, leaving him feeling a bit deflated.

“What are you daydreaming about? Let’s go,” Lan Sheng nudged Ling Xiao, who realized the group had moved on. They quickly caught up.

As they walked, Yao Tai pointed out various facilities. “This is the purification pool. Every returning soul rests here for a while. Religious people say it’s to wash away past life sins. But for scientists, it’s more of a memory cleansing place.”

The purification pool was covered with a transparent layer. Through it, they could see the clear blue water inside.

“I personally believe that, apart from memories, it also cleanses impurities in the soul. After existing for so many years, souls inevitably accumulate negative emotions. In the purification pool, these impurities are completely removed, reverting it to a pure soul form.”

“So, if we don’t go into the purification pool, will our past memories be retained?” A girl asked.

“That’s not a possibility. This place is essential for souls returning to the cycle. Without purification, souls cannot enter the Reincarnation Hall.”

The students nodded in understanding.

“And here, is the Tree of Souls, from which every soul is born.” Yao Tai pointed to a towering tree in the distance. “Each soul fruit requires the essence of heaven and earth, absorbing the spiritual energy of all things. After a full hundred years of nurturing, it matures. This shows how precious souls are to us.”

Everyone gazed intently. On the expansive canopy of the tree, there was just one fruit-sized sphere of light the size of a fist. If you didn’t look closely, you wouldn’t even notice it.

“Why is there only one soul growing?”

“It wasn’t like this a long time ago. Perhaps the Tree of Souls felt that the planet was already saturated with souls,” Yao Tai explained ambiguously. “For nearly a thousand years, new souls have grown at such a slow rate. Regardless of how hard researchers tried, they couldn’t stimulate its growth. Fortunately, existing souls don’t easily perish, so we haven’t faced a population crisis.”

As they walked, they passed by a building. The structure wasn’t eye-catching. Its pitch-black exterior lacked decoration, giving no one the desire to enter. The oppressive architectural style only made people want to flee.

However, Ling Xiao felt strangely drawn to the building, glancing at it several times unconsciously.

“Dr. Yao, what is that place?” Noting that Yao Tai didn’t introduce it, he took the initiative to ask.

Yao Tai sighed, realizing she couldn’t dodge the question, and decided to tell the truth.

“That place is the Nightmare Hall. Originally, it was where executions took place.”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Qizi Ch3

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 3

Yao Tai’s statement ignited a romance fever within Bikong Academy. Every fledgling about to enter their awakening phase started actively looking for their future spouse. Couples started sprouting everywhere on campus.

This was the most beautiful romantic season of the year on the Tianxiu planet. Witnessing fledglings in the early throes of love, shyly whispering sweet nothings to each other, even the adults working within the academy couldn’t help but be drawn back to their own naive memories of the past.

However, not every memory was so pleasant. For example, the principal was one of those.

“Every year at this time, your mental state becomes a cause for concern.” Yao Tai worriedly looked at the report in her hand. It was the result of the principal’s visit to the infirmary to get medicine, only to be forced by her to have a health check.

The principal, somewhat helplessly, pulled out the wire attached to his temple. “I just came for some medicine. Those test results were expected. There wouldn’t be any improvement either way, so why bother?”

“I’m the health physician here. I have the duty to understand the mental condition of everyone in the academy,” Yao Tai firmly said, not backing down even though he was the principal. “Your current mental assessment has reached a dangerous level…”

“And it’s been dangerously high for over a hundred years. I could feel the urge to end my life every second,” the principal said, cutting her off. “But after all, I’m still alive, and never thought of giving up.”

“You…”

The principal gave a wry smile. “Since medicine can’t cure me, at least give me some relief medication.”

Yao Tai was frustrated for a while, but eventually sighed and took out the principal’s usual medication from the cabinet—most of it being sedatives to alleviate insomnia. For thirty years, he had taken countless bottles of such medicine from her. This man, with a high-risk mental assessment, had lived beyond anyone’s expectations for over a century. Only Yao Tai knew what he had relied upon to barely survive.

“Your recent medication dosage seems to have decreased?” Yao Tai noticed, comparing past records, her tone hinting at some relief.

“Yes, that’s because I need less sleep now,” the principal honestly replied.

The fleeting relief she felt was instantly extinguished. Yao Tai handed him several bottles of medication with a stern face. “Take as little as possible. You know the mental harm these medicines can cause.”

Regarding her warning, the principal seemed relaxed. “Of course, I’ve been very restrained.”

“Your mental report is dangerous. I have the duty to report to the Disease Control Center.”

“Sure, but don’t forget to mention my excellent self-control.” The principal smiled, albeit a bit bitterly. “I never want to go back to a place like the Disease Control Center in my life.”

Yao Tai sat down to record the examination results and medication dosage for the principal. The principal casually picked up a tablet on her desk to pass the time.

“That’s a file for the tenth-grade students,” Yao Tai said without lifting her head. “Part of it contains students I’ve flagged for special attention this year.”

The principal scrolled through the tablet until he paused at one particular profile, gazing intently at the photograph.

“His name is Ying Feng, the most significant concern for this year’s batch,” Yao Tai said, standing beside the principal, also looking at the profile. “Just looking at his eyes. He won’t settle for being second best. If he becomes a Qizi, the consequences are unimaginable.”

The principal silently turned to the next page. In the photo, a young man was smiling at the camera, exuding youthful vitality. Even in a static image, his confidence and flamboyance couldn’t be concealed.

“That’s Ling Xiao, not exactly a simple character*. He has too much pride and competitiveness in his nature. It’s hard for someone like him to accept the fate of failure. Fortunately, both he and Ying Feng are quite strong. They are the cream of the crop in their generation. It would be difficult for most people to surpass them in the coming-of-age ceremony, unless…”

*Not a fuel-efficient lamp (不是省油的灯) Metaphor referring to someone who’s not easy to deal with.

Yao Tai didn’t continue, and the principal didn’t ask. He put the tablet back in its place. “It’s going to be a tough year for you again.”

Yao Tai shook her head, about to say it wasn’t a big deal, but then thought of something else. “For the next physiology class, I want to take the students to visit the base.”

“Oh?” The principal was surprised. “Why?”

“I think it’s important for the students to understand their origins. It’ll help them improve their self-awareness.”

The principal pondered for a moment. “That’s a good suggestion. I know you have contacts at the base, so I’ll leave the arrangements to you.”

Yao Tai nodded in agreement.

……

“Hey! Did you hear? Rumors say that for our next physiology class, the academy will arrange for us to visit the base…”

Ling Xiao, without even knocking, barged into the other’s dormitory. His sentence gradually became stiffer, and it seemed he was finishing it out of sheer momentum.

Within his line of sight, his best friend No. 1, Lan Sheng, and his best friend No. 2, Ping Zong, were sitting on the bed, intimately embracing and…kissing.

“Sorry,” a shocked Ling Xiao mumbled, took a step back, closed the door, and tried to process the overwhelming information.

“Darn it!” Recovering from his shock, Ling Xiao kicked the door open again. “What the hell is going on?!”

The two had separated. Lan Sheng sat comfortably, while Ping Zong blushed and avoided his gaze.

“It’s exactly what you saw.” Lan Sheng openly embraced Ping Zong. “We’re dating.”

“You, you…” Ling Xiao was flabbergasted. “Since when?”

To his surprise, Lan Sheng began to count on his fingers. “Let me think… One, two, three… About three years ago.”

Three years ago…

Feeling awkward, Ling Xiao went to sulk in a corner. Lan Sheng gave him a disdainful look, and Ping Zong, finding it funny, disregarded his embarrassment and went over to comfort him.

“Stop it. I feel so betrayed. You two went from gay friends* to actual gay friends and kept it from me for three whole years. I’ve been the third wheel without even knowing it! Have you guys even considered my feelings…”

*Clarity: The term he’s using is (好基友) which refers to good gay friends, but nowadays widely used as just good (male) friends.

Ling Xiao continued to grumble, while Lan Sheng dug in his ear with his pinky. “It’s only because Ping Zong was considerate about your feelings that we didn’t tell you. He’s just afraid of shattering your fragile heart.”

“Enough,” Ping Zong complained. “He’s already like this, don’t provoke him further.”

He forcibly pulled Ling Xiao up from the ground. “This is mainly my fault. I felt embarrassed to mention it to you and didn’t want you to feel awkward in front of us, so I asked Lan Sheng to keep it a secret and not bring it up.”

Even after hearing that, Ling Xiao couldn’t bring himself to cheer up, looking dejected.

“See, I knew you’d have this ghostly expression. How could we dare to tell you?” Lan Sheng sarcastically remarked.

“You should’ve told me earlier!” Ling Xiao retorted.

“Would you have believed us?”

“You’re not a good friend!”

“You’re slow-witted!”

Traitors*!”

*Seeing colors and forgetting the meaning (见色忘义) Idiom referring to giving up one’s morality once you meet someone (beautiful) that you like.

Cuck*!”

*Big Tortoise (乌龟).

Ping Zong, seeing the two bickering energetically, was relieved. This was the Ling Xiao he knew.

“Alright, enough messing around.” Ling Xiao patted his face as if trying to wake himself up. “Even though I’m still trying to accept this… What are your plans for the future?”

Lan Sheng, who was usually playful, turned serious. “You heard what Dr. Yao said. After our awakening, Ping Zong and I have decided to hold the coming-of-age ceremony and become partners.”

When he said this, his attitude was serious and solemn, mature beyond his fledgling state.

Ping Zong quietly extended his hand to him, and their fingers intertwined tightly. All of this was witnessed by Ling Xiao.

“Then, I must congratulate you in advance…” Ling Xiao sounded a bit desolate. “But between the two of you, who will be the Qizhu?”

Lan Sheng gripped the other’s hand tighter. “That will depend on our capabilities.”

Ping Zong gave a slight smile, offering no opinion.

“After the coming-of-age ceremony, won’t you both be going on to further studies? Leaving me all alone…”

“Speaking of which,” Ping Zong said with concern, “Ling Xiao, you should also think about your lifelong matters. Ever since Dr. Yao began mobilizing preparations, many in our class have settled into romantic relationships. The number of singles is decreasing.”

“I know.” Ling Xiao scratched his head in frustration. “But it’s not something you can find just by saying so. There has to be someone you like first, right?”

“What about Ying Feng? Didn’t you say last time you wanted to take him as your Qizi?” Lan Sheng interjected.

“That’s a joke.” Ping Zong nudged him. “He said it out of frustration.”

“Really? I thought you had feelings for him.” Lan Sheng shrugged. “Recently, Zhu Yue has been pursuing Ying Feng quite actively. It’s as if he’s afraid people wouldn’t know.”

“Zhu Yue?” Ling Xiao paused. “The one who’s not very good at fighting?”

“That’s the one. I truly wonder how there can be such a weak exception among the Tianxiu people. He’s a disgrace to our kind. With his capabilities, he’s destined to be someone’s Qizi.”

“Being Ying Feng’s Qizi isn’t bad. He’s so strong. Looking across our entire grade, there aren’t many who could surpass him during the coming-of-age ceremony,” Ping Zong said.

“Maybe not. Older students might have their sights on him. Remember, Dr. Yao mentioned that the Qizhu will gain the powers of their Qizi. Just for that, it’s enough for some fearless ones to get ideas.”

Their discussion reached Ling Xiao’s ears, and a feeling of annoyance surged in his heart. He wished he hadn’t heard any of it. But having heard it, he couldn’t help but care.

“By the way,” Lan Sheng recalled, “What did you say when you came in? Visiting the base? Is that true?”

……

The term “base” became the most frequently mentioned word among the tenth graders in the following days. For these fledglings, the base was both familiar and filled with mystery. It was where they slept and awakened; the first thing every person of Tianxiu saw upon waking up in this life was the energy tank ceiling of the base.

However, after brief medical examinations and registrations, these newly awakened individuals were randomly allocated to various primary academies, embarking on a fresh start in life. The base, in their memories, was but a fleeting moment.

The news of the chance to revisit the base thrilled every tenth grader, and they all eagerly anticipated the next physical health class.

Ling Xiao input commands into his personal terminal, connecting to the Tianyuan Network.

The Tianyuan Network was the public network of Tianxiu. Its original designer proposed the feasibility of a 3D network and successfully built the first 3D virtual community, pioneering the prototype of realistic networking. This happened more than five hundred years ago.

Regrettably, he passed away before his grand vision was fully realized. Decades later, successors inherited his aspirations, refining the 3D network further and successfully popularizing it.

The third successor achieved a miracle in the history of networking. He developed an interdimensional transmission device that allowed physical objects to switch between virtual and reality, ushering in the golden era of 3D networking.

Today, with the original community at its heart, the Tianyuan Network had expanded its domain endlessly. Every industry found its place within, essentially creating a bustling space parallel to the real world and fully realizing the dream of the first generation when it was named—Tianyuan, the new era of Tianxiu.

Ling Xiao’s fledgling status meant his activities on the Tianyuan Network were restricted by its hierarchy, barring him from entering over 80% of the adult-only zones. Fortunately, the few zones that fledglings were allowed into were prosperous, catering to the needs of these minors.

Besides personal terminals, every awakened Tianxiu person also received a real-name card after awakening. This card served various purposes, one of which was for making purchases.

Every fledgling received a monthly stipend, sufficient for their expenses. This amount would increase when they undergo the coming-of-age ceremony and enter advanced institutes for further studies, and it would continue until they graduate and have their own income. Only then would they start paying education tax, nurturing the next generation of Tianxiu just as they were nurtured.

After shopping in the supermarket, Ling Xiao strolled along the commercial street, his attention caught by a shop named “Everything Sold Here”.

“What do you sell here?” He walked in, only to find no goods but a fledgling inside.

The fledgling pointed at the sign above with a cheeky grin. “Everything.”

Skeptical, Ling Xiao looked him up and down. “Are you a student working here?”

“No, I’m the owner.”

“Owner?” Ling Xiao exclaimed. “But you look just like me—a minor fledgling.”

“It’s true, but I’ve been one for twenty-two years.”

Just as Ling Xiao’s jaw was dropping, another person entered the shop.

“Hello there, what can I help you with?” The owner greeted warmly.

Upon entering, Ying Feng spotted someone he’d rather not see. As he was about to leave, Ling Xiao noticed him due to the owner’s greeting.

“What are you doing here?” Ling Xiao asked curtly.

Perhaps because it was online, Ying Feng wasn’t as indifferent as usual and replied, “Why can’t I be here?”

“Everyone’s a customer once they enter.” The owner welcomed Ying Feng warmly. “Ask for anything you like.”

“But you have nothing here,” Ling Xiao retorted.

“As long as you can name it, I’m confident I can procure it for you.”

“Such as?”

“Like the latest gaming consoles, extraterrestrial biological specimens, and autographed photos of celebrities. Let me think… What would fledglings of your age like? Ah, yes.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Even those spicy adult discs, I can discreetly get them for you.”

Ling Xiao felt embarrassed when he suddenly heard Ying Feng ask, “Aren’t you a student from our academy?”

“What?” Ling Xiao’s eyes widened. “This twenty-two-year-old fledgling is from our academy?”

“He’s Zhen He. You don’t even recognize him?” Ying Feng responded disdainfully.

Zhen He’s renowned name finally rang a bell in Ling Xiao’s memory. There was a celebrity in Bikong Academy—a twenty-two-year-old fledgling who hadn’t matured, neither advancing in his studies nor being held back, always remaining in the twelfth grade, the highest grade in the academy.

Although Zhen He was famous, he was elusive. Many students had heard of his name but never seen him in person, so it wasn’t surprising Ling Xiao didn’t recognize him.

Zhen He wasn’t bothered that he was recognized. “I know you both are from Bikong. Ling Xiao, Ying Feng. Am I right?”

“Damn.” Ling Xiao was shocked to hear his name. “How do you know?”

“Of course,” Zhen He’s demeanor shifted, no longer the enthusiastic shopkeeper but a more worldly figure, “I sell everything, which includes information. As an informant, I always need to know more than others.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not interested in what you sell.” Ying Feng turned to leave, and Ling Xiao hastily added, “Neither am I.”

“Aren’t both of you in the tenth grade?” Zhen He’s words halted their departure. “I’ve heard the tenth graders will be visiting the base for a field trip in a few days.”

“Yes, everyone in the academy knows about this. It’s not surprising that you do too.”

“How about I sell you some information that you might find interesting? Secrets about the base, perhaps?”

“Secrets?”

“Secrets on how to find your partner from a past life.”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Qizi Ch2

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 2

The slap that Yao Tai struck on the sensory board also heavily struck the hearts of the young Tianxiu students.

“A fledgling Tianxiu person, on average, will enter the awakening period about ten years after awakening. There are mainly two conditions that induce awakening. The first is that it occurs automatically with age, and the second is that if someone reaches sexual maturity, the fledglings around them are easily influenced and induced to awaken, so the awakening of each class of students is likely to occur on a large scale.”

“If anyone finds that their body has undergone changes different from before, do not panic, as this is a normal reaction before awakening. Everyone will experience this; it’s just a matter of time.”

“When you officially enter sexual maturity, you will have the desire to mate and the craving to find a partner. This desire is controlled by reason, so no one needs to feel anxious. If you cannot find a suitable spouse, you can continue to stay in the fledgling period until you find the ideal partner, complete the coming-of-age ceremony, and formally step into adulthood.”

“Question.” A student raised his hand. “What exactly is the coming-of-age ceremony?”

“Idiot, it’s mating,” a student beside him whispered mockingly, causing a round of laughter.

The commotion below didn’t escape Yao Tai’s ears. She waited for everyone to finish laughing and then said, “Wrong, mating is not the coming-of-age ceremony, and it’s not even part of it. The real coming-of-age ceremony is obtaining the first drop of blood from the heart.”

“In each pair of spouses, only one person can get the other’s heart’s blood. This person, we call the Qizhu, and the one whose blood is taken will become his Qizi.”

“Whether male or female, anyone can become a Qizhu, and likewise a Qizi. The distinction of status depends entirely on the result of the coming-of-age ceremony and has nothing to do with gender or roles in love.”

“What should we do if one of the two parties in the relationship is awakened but the other isn’t?” a student asked.

“You can only wait. A fledgling that has not awakened cannot give or receive blood. But as I just said, awakening is easily induced by others. If it’s a couple that’s close and spends a lot of time together, they can easily synchronize into the awakening period.”

“So how can we get the heart’s blood?”

“This is our instinct; no one needs to teach it. During the coming-of-age ceremony, you will grasp it automatically.”

Yao Tai waited for a moment, and when no new questions were raised, she continued her lecture.

“The relationship between the Qizhu and the Qizi is a one-on-one spousal relationship, but they do not enjoy equal rights. The Qizhu has absolute control, and the Qizi can only obey the Qizhu’s orders. In other words, the result of the coming-of-age ceremony determines a person’s status in life.”

“This is the hierarchical system I mentioned earlier. It is the only unequal relationship on Tianxiu, but it is also the most stringent and inviolable class relationship. Whether you are willing to comply or not, you must accept it.”

“This relationship is lifelong and cannot be dissolved. Even if one party dies, the other cannot awaken again to find a new spouse. In this regard, Qizhus and Qizis are treated equally, without exception.”

Yao Tai snapped her fingers, and the human silhouette on the sensory board began to automatically change. “After the relationship is successfully established, both parties will enter the second development, with the Qizhu’s development being more noticeable. Taking males as an example. Male Qhizus will experience a noticeable increase in height. Their muscles will become more developed, and both strength and stamina will surpass those of the male Qizi.”

“Simultaneously, the secondary sexual characteristics of the male Qizhu will undergo significant changes. The Adam’s apple will protrude, the vocal cords will thicken, the reproductive organs will enlarge, and body hair will grow.”

“The same is true for the female Qizhu. Their body curves will change noticeably. Statistics show that female Qizhus are, on average, at least fifteen centimeters taller than female Qizis, and their physical fitness will also be superior.”

“Then, Dr. Yao, does that mean that the Qizi will stop developing from then on?”

“Of course not; everyone will develop. It’s just that compared to the changes in the Qizhu, the Qizi’s development seems more limited and is easily influenced by the Qizhu’s mental state.”

“How is it influenced?”

“For example, if the Qizhu likes someone who weighs two hundred catties*, then do not doubt, the Qizi will most likely develop in that direction as well. Even if they don’t reach the standard, they will come as close as possible. So, don’t assume that male Qizi will be short or female Qizi will be flat-chested; these are misconceptions. A Qizi’s development depends on their innate physical quality, environmental influence, and the Qizhu’s subconscious mind.”

*1 catty = 113 lbs.

Her words sparked a new round of whispers among the students.

“What distinction will there be in abilities between the two parties?”

“The most important aspect of the coming-of-age ceremony is that the Qizhu will gain the Qizi’s abilities. Simply put, the stronger the Qizi, the stronger the Qizhu. This is why the people of Tianxiu are naturally attracted to stronger partners.”

“Just as some birds are attracted to bright feathers of the opposite sex and many mammals compete for mating rights through strength, those biological instincts aim to provide the next generation with superior genes. Our instinct is to become stronger. To gain more substantial abilities, one must conquer stronger individuals, provided you have the strength to conquer them.”

“Our earliest souls, through generations of inheritance and evolution, to combat harsh environments and ferocious enemies, gradually evolved this survival of the fittest mating relationship. It made the victorious become even more robust, strong enough to protect the entire clan.”

“Although we live in peaceful and prosperous times, without survival pressures or wars, it doesn’t mean we can slack off. The master-servant relationship is the best incentive bestowed by our ancestors, making the descendants of Tianxiu people strive not to be dominated, even in peaceful times.”

“In the past decade, the academy has been committed to training you to be strong. Yet, the real victory depends only on the moment of the coming-of-age ceremony. This is the lifelong pursuit of every Tianxiu person—become strong, conquer the strong, and become stronger.”

The words “conquer the strong” stirred something in Ling Xiao’s heart, and he stopped paying close attention to what Yao Tai was saying afterward.

“That concludes the pre-awakening mobilization given by the school to the students about to enter the awakening period every year.”

“Every year, we emphasize to our students that they must win, gain dominance, and become Qizhus. This is our survival rule. However, the outcome is often not as beautiful as we imagine.”

“As a healthcare physician, I have to deal with several cases every year of depression caused by defeat in the coming-of-age ceremony and the inability to accept becoming a Qizi. The most severe consequence is even death.”

With her voice transitioning from passionate to subdued, an inevitable heaviness sank into everyone’s heart.

“The chance of becoming a Qizhu is fifty percent, and the chance of becoming a Qizi is also fifty percent. Among the students here, one in two will be defeated in the coming-of-age ceremony. If that person is you, will you accept it?”

As she posed the question, many were quietly asking themselves, their eyes filled with apprehension.

“If you lose, your lifetime will be controlled by someone else, who has the right to dictate everything about you… Does anyone here think this system is unreasonable?”

After waiting for a while, finally, a trembling boy raised his hand.

The woman on the podium smiled silently and, in the blink of an eye, disappeared from sight. As everyone realized she had vanished and started looking around, a hoarse cry sounded from the classroom. Yao Tai had unnoticeably appeared behind the male student with a dagger in hand that was pressed against his throat.

Even Ying Feng, who sat in the last row and always had keen observation skills, was stunned. Her movements were so swift that he only caught a shadow.

This sudden turn of events frightened the entire class. No one expected that a mere healthcare physician would have such agile skills, nor could anyone guess her intention.

Under the horrified gazes of everyone, Yao Tai said with nonchalance, “With my ability, I could easily kill you in a moment, and not only you, but anyone in this classroom would be a trivial matter.”

She said this first to the boy, then to the whole class. After she finished, she looked around and asked, “But now that I am here, do you feel your lives are threatened?”

Everyone looked at each other and shook their heads in unison, even including the one being held hostage.

Yao Tai withdrew her hand. “That’s right, although I have this ability, I have no intention of using it, so you are not afraid, nor do you feel it as a threat. You might even find security in it.”

“The relationship between the Qizhu and the Qizi is the same. Although the Qizhu possesses a strong controlling power, if it is a pair of true lovers, this power will not work at all. Their souls are equal, and their status is equal.”

She walked toward the podium. “What you hear today is the first time I’ve revealed it in front of students. I’m not teaching you how to lose but want you to know that everyone wants to be a winner, and that’s fine, but becoming a Qizi doesn’t necessarily mean your life is hopeless.”

“In true love, there is no hierarchy, no winners or losers. The rules may be cruel, but the executor of the rules is the one you choose. Whether he will hurt you, you know better than anyone else.”

She passed by Ling Xiao’s seat and woke him from his reverie.

“Can you tell me what I just said?”

“I…” Ling Xiao stammered and couldn’t answer.

“If you didn’t listen, I’ll repeat it for you. Yes, the Qizhu has supreme control over both, but if you want to use this power against your enemies, think carefully if you want to spend the rest of your life with someone you hate.”

Ling Xiao’s eyes flickered, but Yao Tai pretended not to notice.

“We, the people of Tianxiu, are the most loyal to our spouses. We live together as a couple for life; never cheat, never betray. So I warn every student here,” she looked slowly at each young face, speaking both to Ling Xiao and to everyone present, “Don’t hastily choose your partner because of youthful anger. The one who stands beside you and accompanies you for life is not an enemy or a foe…”

Her eyes finally fell on Ling Xiao’s face, and she said slowly and firmly:

“It can only ever be your lover.”

The first physiology lesson of tenth grade thus ended, with the students gaining knowledge they had never understood before, excitedly discussing it together. But the usually lively Ling Xiao was now silently sitting in his seat, touched by Yao Tai’s words.

At the same time, Ying Feng, who had left the classroom, was stopped by Yao Tai.

“Did you hear everything you said in class?”

Ying Feng nodded silently.

“Although what I said in front of everyone is correct, for you, I have only one thing to say: No matter who the opponent is, no matter what means, in the coming-of-age ceremony, you can only win.”

Ying Feng narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Last year, 102 students completed the coming-of-age ceremony in the academy, but only 99 graduated successfully.”

“What about the other three?”

“They committed suicide.”

Ying Feng was secretly shocked.

“In fact, every year there are Qizis who give up their lives because of defeat. The school doesn’t want this tragedy to repeat, so this year’s awakening mobilization has been much softer. Even the real relationship between Qizhu and Qizi has been deliberately downplayed.”

“Real relationship?”

“The so-called coming-of-age ceremony is actually a process of survival of the fittest. The losers will be stripped of all rights, and the control of the Qizhu over the Qizi is quite cruel—an absolute domination in every sense, from psychological to physical.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I have been working here for more than thirty years, and I have met thousands of fledglings. Some don’t care about subordination and can live happily even as a Qizi; others are born dominators and can only be dominators. I know what kind of personality leads to self-destruction, and what I can do is try to prevent this from happening.”

Ying Feng lowered his eyes and was silent for a moment. “I understand what you mean. You want to say, I have only one choice: either win or die.”

Yao Tai didn’t answer, which in itself was an admission.

He looked up. “Thank you, Dr. Yao, for the warning. I will keep it in mind.”

Yao Tai nodded, watched him walk a few steps, then stopped and turned back.

“Is the power of the Qizhu really as exaggerated as you say?”

Yao Tai’s expression was solemn. “I didn’t exaggerate a single word.”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Qizi Ch1

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/ || Editor: idkman


Chapter 1

[Bikong Arc]

In the principal’s office on the second floor of Bikong Academy, the principal, whose eyes were a light shade of gray, stood leaning by the window. Where his gaze reached, a group of energetic students were coming from afar, laughing and playing.

“When I was young, I met a visitor from a distant galaxy,” the principal lazily said. “His eyes were a clear and bottomless blue, like vast oceans, unforgettable at a glance.”

The corners of the principal’s mouth rose slightly, recalling the pleasant memories. “I once told him that he possesses the most beautiful eyes on his planet, but guess what he said?”

The other person in the room didn’t respond, but the principal didn’t seem to need him to answer and continued on his own. “He said that in his homeland, everyone has eyes of different colors. There are green like emeralds, red like amber, gold like glass… Even though I couldn’t see it with my own eyes, imagining it is already beautiful enough.”

The group of students drew closer, and their faces became more distinct. They were different in appearance and stature, but their eyes were all the same smoky gray.

There were so many magnificent colors in the world, yet here they were unified into the most unremarkable one. Some of the light spectrum was greedily absorbed, and the remainder was mixed into a foggy gray that filled the entire pupil.

“How monotonous the colors of our planet are in comparison,” the principal lamented.

Not far behind him stood the much taller Director of Education, whose eyes were as black as ink, seemingly trapping even light. Such profound eye color, however, was also considered one of the monotonous colors in the principal’s eyes.

The director quietly shifted his gaze from the students on the ground floor to the principal’s profile. Although this man often mentioned things about youth and memories, his appearance and figure weren’t much different from the students of the academy. Without looking at his eyes, it would be hard to discern his real age.

This was the planet Tianxiu, where people’s eyes had only three colors, which were also essential identity markers. The majority of Bikong Academy’s students, regardless of gender, had smoky gray eyes; the color exclusive to minors. Only a few had eyes that had changed, signifying their awakening as adults and their impending departure from the academy.

People on this planet had neither childhood nor old age. They came into existence in a unique way, awakening as teenagers after a long dormant period. Born with survival skills, they didn’t need to learn to walk or speak and even retained the most basic survival memories through generations of reincarnations.

Without parents, siblings, they were born equal without any difference in social status. During their fledgling stage, all adults collectively raised them, allowing minors to spend their formative years in academies like Bikong. After completing the coming-of-age ceremony, they would develop for the second time into adults and maintain that appearance until the next dormant period.

This was the Tianxiu people, with no birth or real death. Generations after generations have lived on this planet for thousands of years.

“These students are in the tenth grade, right?” the principal asked, watching them pass below. Since age couldn’t be judged by height or appearance, educators here generally developed exceptional memory.

The director gave a brief glance and quickly identified a few targets. “Yes, most of them are in the fledgling stage—around nine to ten years—the peak period of awakening.”

“It would be nice if they could pass the awakening period carefree.” The principal tapped on the glass. “I don’t want to repeat the past tragedies. For this year’s health education, should we assign someone gentle…”

The students who had just walked past had splintered into small groups, discussing the physical fitness test that had just ended.

“Have you heard? Two people in our grade scored over three hundred points in this physical fitness test. Are they really that strong?”

“Who else could it be? It must be Ling Xiao and Ying Feng, I bet.”

“Who do you think scored higher between them?”

“Probably Ling Xiao.”

“It must be Ying Feng. Although Ling Xiao is also very strong, he’s still slightly inferior to Ying Feng…”

The students were enthusiastically discussing, unaware that behind them, one of the parties mentioned was walking by.

Ling Xiao’s face was cold. The results of everyone’s physical fitness test were sent directly to their private terminals from the host computer, so others didn’t know. But the instructor hinted to him after the test that although his results were good, they weren’t the best of this grade.

And among his peers of the same grade, there was only one person who could surpass him: Ying Feng.

Ying Feng and Ling Xiao had awakened within half an hour of each other and were both assigned to Bikong Academy. They had been classmates for ten years, since the first grade. They almost had all the prerequisites to become good friends, but due to Ling Xiao’s competitiveness and Ying Feng’s indifference, they remained strangers.

Ying Feng had a slight edge over Ling Xiao in almost everything, but this slight edge was enough to keep Ling Xiao in second place forever. The only thing that could redeem his pride was that he was a few centimeters taller than Ying Feng. This had been his only victory over him in these past ten years.

“Why the long face?” One of Ling Xiao’s best friends, Lan Sheng, hooked his arm around his neck. “Let me guess, you lost to him again?”

Another friend, Ping Zong, gently elbowed him, indicating: Do you have to be so blunt?

“What’s there to fear? Our Xiao* Ling Xiao is best at turning sorrow into strength. This small failure can’t defeat him, right?”

*Little/young (). When used as a prefix in front of a name, it expresses familiarity or affection towards a person, usually used when the person is younger or lower rank than you.

“Of course not.” Ling Xiao was spurred on by the words. “The instructor said I was only two points behind him. A little more effort, and I can surpass him.”

Lan Sheng punched him in the chest. “That’s a must. I’m counting on you.”

The three walked back to the classroom together. When they entered the classroom, Ling Xiao was still arguing with Lan Sheng. “And, I’m older than you, so don’t call me ‘Xiao’ Ling Xiao.”

“You only woke up half a year before me, and our ages during our fledgling phase don’t mean anything.”

“You’re so confident I won’t become an adult before you?”

“Hahaha. Really? You?”

The two chatted happily, and soon more boys joined in. As the classroom was buzzing, Ying Feng appeared at the entrance, but only Ling Xiao noticed.

Ying Feng’s seat was in the last row, so he had to pass by Ling Xiao’s group. As he passed, Ling Xiao, who had been leaning against the desk, suddenly stood up straight, lifted his chin, and congratulated him in a tone that was hard to interpret as complimentary.

“Congratulations.”

Ying Feng didn’t even turn his face, coldly glancing at Ling Xiao, who was trying hard to make himself look tall, and walked by without a word. The other students were well aware of the animosity between the two and turned a blind eye as usual.

Seeing Ying Feng ignore him once again, Ling Xiao’s anger flared.

“Sooner or later, I will, I will…” Ling Xiao thought of the most vicious threat he could think of as a Tianxiu fledgling. “I will take your heart’s blood and make you my Qizi. You’ll obey me all your life!”

Ling Xiao’s bold words were like dropping an atomic bomb in the classroom, shocking all the students. To these young minds, adulthood was a vague concept. Although many were facing awakening, the relationships between adults were still a mysterious existence.

Their knowledge of adult matters came from surreptitiously obtained vulgar literature, where Qizi were described almost like slaves, completely under the control of their Qizhu without any capability to resist. This made Ling Xiao’s words seem particularly outrageous and daring.

“Haha.” After a long silence, someone laughed awkwardly. “Ling Xiao, you really dared to say that.”

With the ice broken, the crowd immediately laughed and agreed, like teenagers accidentally discussing dirty jokes; embarrassed but unable to resist wanting to know more.

“Hey, I heard the equipment teacher say yesterday,” Lan Sheng suddenly whispered mysteriously, and everyone immediately huddled together, “that he was taken four times in one night, and he was weak-kneed when he went to work.”

“No way?” someone exclaimed as others snickered. “Why did he say that?”

“It’s true. I heard him complaining to his Qizhu on the communicator. There was no one else in the office, and I was hiding by the door, eavesdropping.”

The forbidden door, once opened, would not easily close again. “What else did he say?”

“I don’t know. I only heard this much. I was afraid of being discovered, so I quickly ran away.”

“Tch.” Everyone collectively groaned. A good opportunity to spy on the adult world was killed.

Ling Xiao sneered disdainfully. “Four times a night? That’s nothing. When I become someone’s Qizhu, it will be seven times a night, and they won’t be able to get out of bed for three days.” Having said that, he glanced meaningfully at someone’s seat. The person unexpectedly raised his head, and the two made brief eye contact.

There erupted a round of cheers among the boys, including cries of admiration and encouragement, while the girls distanced themselves, as if they wanted nothing to do with these shameless people.

Yao Tai walked into the classroom just in time to catch Ling Xiao’s arrogant words, making her inwardly curse.

These ignorant* little brats, not even old enough to grow pubic hair, dared to speak so wildly. Rather than psychological health education, the fledgling who started this should be tied up and beaten until he learns his lesson.

*Not knowing the height of the sky and the thickness of earth (不知天高地厚) Idiom referring to someone who is overconfident, arrogant, or naive about the reality of the situation, which can lead them to act recklessly and make unwise decisions.

She strode to the podium in her high heels. Seeing their teacher arrive, the students dispersed and returned to their seats.

Yao Tai possessed a stunning figure rarely seen in the academy and possessed deep black eyes. Many students referred to her as Queen Yao behind her back. Strictly speaking, she wasn’t a teacher of the academy.

Indeed, as soon as she stood at the lectern, a student raised a hand.

“Dr. Yao, are you our substitute teacher today?”

The academy’s health doctor, Yao Tai, crossed her arms. “Starting today, the tenth graders will have additional physiological health classes, and I will be the instructor for this course. If any of you have questions in this area, feel free to ask me.”

Physiological health class? The students’ eyes lit up, but no one dared to raise a hand.

“What’s the matter? No questions? Weren’t you all discussing very passionately just now?”

Realizing they had been caught, several boys who had just been making a fuss started scratching their heads sheepishly.

Yao Tai didn’t press further. She drew two human silhouettes on the sensory board, clearly distinguishing a male and a female.

“As you all understand, we, the people of the Tianxiu, have a unique way of reproducing, which is asexual reproduction. There are only two stages in our lives—fledgling and adult—which is why we have a unique way of calculating age.”

“You.” She pointed at a student in the front row. “How old are you?”

“Nine years in the fledgling stage,” the student replied fluently.

“Good, I’m eighty-seven years old as an adult. How much older am I than you?”

“I…” The student couldn’t answer.

“You should answer, ‘I don’t know’,” Yao Tai continued. “The length of the fledgling stage varies. Some awaken as early as four years, while others don’t awaken until eighteen, although these are exceptions.”

“Over 80% of our people reach sexual maturity around their tenth year after awakening. That means…” She drew out her words, sweeping her gaze over each student’s face. “A significant portion of you here might be approaching your sexual awakening.”

The girls who were shyer were already blushing at this point, but Yao Tai continued unfazed. “Although we reproduce asexually and don’t need to mate for reproduction like other species, that doesn’t mean we don’t have physical desires. Our primary purpose for mating is to complete our secondary development and evolve into actual adults.”

Yao Tai was addressing the subjects the students were most curious about but couldn’t easily learn elsewhere. At this moment, every student was listening intently.

However, Yao Tai suddenly changed the subject, seemingly to pique their curiosity, and then began to describe the customs of other planets.

“Many of our neighboring stars, even those in distant galaxies, have very different social structures. The most obvious difference is they have families. Everyone may be born into different families—some in wealthy households enjoying riches, others in slums struggling in poverty. They have differences in status and wealth from birth, receiving unequal treatment.”

“Their lives are unequal from the beginning, with distinctions of rank and hierarchy, high and low social status, rich and poor. Though a person can change their circumstances through effort, the starting point and required effort will differ vastly. Among them, the only equality might be that no one can choose where they are born.”

Yao Tai’s words opened a door to a new world. For the first time, the students learned that some people were forcefully divided into different social ranks upon awakening—or birth, though they had no concept of birth—while they were only forcibly divided into grades. Hearing such an eye-opening statement, they couldn’t help but feel extremely fortunate.

Yao Tai guessed their thoughts and immediately delved deeper.

“Compared to them, we, the people of Tianxiu, are equal. After awakening, we receive the same material treatment, public healthcare, education, and political rights. This is unparalleled and unique in any galaxy.”

At this point, some students straightened their backs proudly.

“But,” Yao Tai shattered their newly-built pride, “if you think that we are a race that values equality and pursues human rights, you are sorely mistaken.”

“To avoid the laziness stemming from innate equality, our requirements for acquired effort are even more stringent. We have the most brutal ranking system in the universe, which is—”

She slapped the board. “The master-slave relationship between spouses!”


Kinky Thoughts:

I decided to pick this up due to a recommendation from a friend (whom I deeply trust for all recommendations). Some things to note about this novel.

There is smut (which is probably the main factor in why I decided to do it), so be sure you’re at an appropriate age to read it. I won’t be putting up any NSFW warnings and such except here, so be advised.

Given the context, make sure you are comfortable reading this type of theme before proceeding. There will be no warnings throughout the chapters. Just know there is, what some would consider, dubious consent. Check the tags on Novels Update.

——

An important note regarding Qizi and Qizhu.

Qizhu (契主) translated would be contractor/owner/master, while [qi] (契) in [Qizi] means contract/deed combined with [zi] (子) would mean something along the lines of “one who’s being contracted”.

Given that Qizi is the title of the novel, I decided not to give translations to these terms.

——

So… we can hold Ling Xiao accountable for 7 times a night, right?


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