The late autumn rain is cold. In a small wooden house in Ping’an (Peace) Valley, the sound of someone fixing the rooftop can be heard. After a while, a handsome man dressed in black jumps down from the roof. He wipes the rain from his face and enters the house.

As soon as he comes in, he calls out, “Qiao Qiao, don’t come over. Daddy’s body is cold, I can’t hold you right now.” His words come just in time. Making little Ming Qiao, who was slowly extending his chubby feet off the bed, pull them back just as slowly.

“The weather is getting cold too fast. Qiao Qiao, have you taken your medicine?”

“All done!”

“Good boy!”

As the father and son chat, Wu Ye quickly changes out of his wet clothes. After ensuring he’s completely dry, he walks over. He picks up his son, who is wrapped in a small blanket and waiting obediently. He lifts him high into the air.

“Ha ha ha” Ming Qiao, whose face is little, fair and chubby. He has a pair of shiny black round eyes that curve into crescent moons. He kicks his short little legs in delight as his father holds him up and plays with him around the room.

After a while, a flush appears on his little face, and his breathing becomes more rapid. Wu Ye brings him back into his arms and pats his back gently.

“Alright, alright, our Qiao Qiao needs to rest now. How about daddy telling you a story?”

“Yes! A story!”

Ming Qiao’s small body presses against his father’s chest. His long eyelashes tremble slightly, and there’s a hint of a cough in his throat.

He coughs twice, then looks up and says, “Daddy, I want to hear about mommy.”

“Alright, daddy will tell you about mommy. Your mother… was very beautiful and had such a lovely personality.”

When Wu Ye talks about Ming Qiao’s mother, his eyes are focused on his son’s little face. On the wooden table, a herbal incense stick is almost burnt out, and its fragrance has faded.

Ming Qiao sniffs. Although his breathing has become smoother, the red tint on his fair face hasn’t faded yet. Wu Ye continues telling the story in his usual tone. It’s a story that Ming Qiao has heard many times before.

At first, Ming Qiao used to cry, crying for his mother. He has always been frail, and even his crying is not as vigorous as that of other children.

When he cried, he would sit in the corner of the bed, with his back to his father, silently letting his tears fall. There were times when Wu Ye had to turn him around to realize that he was crying.

His crying is soft and pitiful, with red eyes and a red nose. In his sorrow, he will accuse, “Mimi has a mother, but Qiao Qiao doesn’t.”

Mimi is a little cat in the valley. She has a father cat, who is a skilled hunter and a mother who loves to groom her. Mimi’s family often sunbathes behind Ming Qiao’s yard. Ming Qiao had fed them steamed cornbread before.

But this time, after the story is told, Ming Qiao doesn’t cry. His little head rested on his father’s strong arm, and he has already fallen asleep.

Wu Ye looks down at his sleeping son. After a moment, he carefully puts him down and covers him with a blanket.

“Qiao Qiao, be good and wait for daddy. Daddy’s going to gather medicine for you.”

Both the medicine for brewing and the herbs for making incense are running low. This time, he has to gather more.

Without medicine to keep him going, his Qiao Qiao might not make it to his fourth birthday. Thinking about Ming Qiao’s health, Wu Ye feels a tightness in his chest.

He gathers a bunch of food and warm water, places them in a storage ring, warms it, and places it on Ming Qiao’s wrist.

After all that, Wu Ye bends down and kisses Ming Qiao’s soft, beautiful little face. “Qiao Qiao, daddy is leaving.”

Although his trips are short, every time he leaves, he feels reluctant in his heart.

In his sleep, the little boy seems to hear the door closing. His delicate brows furrow, and his small body shifts uneasily.

Outside, Wu Ye glances at Mimi, who comes by for a visit. Before the cat can rub against his leg, Wu Ye’s figure vanishes from her sight.

Three days had passed. Ming Qiao hasn’t seen his father for three days. He knows that his dad went out to gather medicine for him, so he obediently stayed at home and didn’t run around.

The rain in the valley had long stopped. During the day, the sun streams in. Ming Qiao sits on the doorstep, holding Mimi, squinting as he basks in the sunlight.

Mimi lies on his lap, occasionally raising her soft little paws to knead. When Mimi gets tired from kneading, Ming Qiao feeds her some steamed cornbread.

Sweet corn buns, the two little ones share them bite by bite, and before long, they’re both full.

Just as they are about to finish the corn buns, Ming Qiao goes back into the house. He puts on the thickest fur-lined cloak, then heads to the valley entrance with Mimi.

Upon arriving at the valley’s entrance, Ming Qiao sees a blood-red sky. With battle sounds echo from the clouds.

His little face shows confusion, not understanding what is happening. Mimi, following behind him, also freezes.

She meows twice, then bites onto Ming Qiao’s cloak, trying to pull him back. It’s dangerous outside.

Instinctively, Mimi wants to take Ming Qiao back home. But Ming Qiao doesn’t move. He stands there and calls out in a daze, “Daddy.”

Why hasn’t daddy come back yet? This time, daddy has been gone for too long, long enough to make Ming Qiao feel scared.

Mimi keeps tugging on the cloak. Ming Qiao uses his chubby little hand to hold it down, refusing to let Mimi pull him away. The two little ones remain in a standoff.

As they stand there, an old voice comes from under an ancient tree outside the valley. It’s a ragged old man with messy hair.

Leaning against the tree, his eyes are closed, and there is a trace of blood at the corner of his eye. His voice is low and weak as he says, “The hundred sects of the Immortal Gate cannot subdue a single You Qing. This Cangxuan Realm is doomed.”

Ming Qiao’s ears twitch, and he looks toward the old man. Daddy told him not to talk to strangers. But after hesitating, he musters the courage to ask, “Grandpa, who is You Qing?”

“You Qing is a Demon Lord.”

Ming Qiao: “…”

Ming Qiao feels even more confused. He clutches his cloak tightly and asks, “Is the Demon Lord really bad?”

The old man replies, “Yes, very bad!”

Ming Qiao falls silent. His daddy didn’t talk much about the Immortal Gate or demons, so he doesn’t understand much about them.

“Child, this misty valley is a dangerous place. Why are you here all alone? Where are your parents?”

Though the old man looks like he’s about to die, he talks a lot.

Ming Qiao stands where he is and honestly replies, “I don’t have a mother. Qiao Qiao is sick, and daddy went to get medicine.”

The old man clicks his tongue. “Poor little thing.”

Ming Qiao: “…”

Ming Qiao doesn’t like being called a poor little thing. He looks at the old man, takes two corn buns out of his storage ring, throws them to the old man, and walks away.

The old man catches the corn buns. He sniffs them and takes a big bite. “Pretty tasty.”

“Hey, little kid, wait.”

The old man, still eating the bun, calls out to Ming Qiao, who hasn’t walked far.

He says, “I’m about to die. Before I do, keep me company and chat for a bit, will you?”

Ming Qiao is sensitive to the word “die”.

Not long ago, he coughed up a lot of blood and was unconscious for a long time. His daddy held him in a medicinal pond.

In his dazed state, he heard daddy’s hoarse voice, praying over and over. “Qiao Qiao, don’t die, don’t leave daddy.”

Daddy was very afraid of him dying.

Ming Qiao doesn’t know this old man, but since the old man is about to die, he is willing to stay and talk to him.

One old and one young, one sitting outside the valley, the other inside. They chat from a not-too-close, not-too-far distance. Though they’re talking, most of the time, it’s the old man speaking and Ming Qiao listening.

The old man tells him about the Demon Lord You Qing, who is actually a prodigy. Though born with broken spiritual roots, he managed to train for only a hundred years. That he could fight against all the sects of the Immortal Gate by himself.

After finishing his tale about You Qing, the old man starts to talk about other demons.

He mentions that before You Qing appeared, the most evil demon in the world was the previous Demon Monarch. But for some reason, the Demon Monarch has disappeared in recent years.

The chatty old man’s voice gradually weakens. Ming Qiao can no longer hear him and nervously asks, “Grandpa, did you die?”

Old man: “…”

He barely makes a sound: “Not dead yet, just hungry. Give me another corn bun.”

Hearing this, Ming Qiao quickly reaches out his chubby little hand and throws him a corn bun. After eating five buns from Ming Qiao, the old man opens his eyes and looks at Ming Qiao.

He stares at Ming Qiao’s pretty little face and snorts. “Your father left you alone at home, that’s irresponsible. But he raised you well—you’re chubby and fair, so he’s a decent dad.”

“Daddy is good.”

Ming Qiao nods his little head, speaking in defense of his father.

“Too bad, if your dad doesn’t come back soon, you two might never see each other again in this lifetime.”

The old man looks up at the sky, then looks back at Ming Qiao. Although Ming Qiao has been raised to be fair and plump, the unusual color of his face reveals that he is not well. This child is fated to die at a young age.

“I don’t like owing people favors. Since you gave me corn buns, I’ll give you a gift in return.”

“Kid, catch this.”

As the old man’s words fall, a blue light shoots out from between his fingers. The blue light enters Ming Qiao’s forehead, its cool touch disappears in an instant.

“Grandpa—”

Ming Qiao instinctively covers his forehead. He wants to ask what just entered his head. But as soon as he called out “grandpa” the old man lowers his hand. The old man has died.

Ming Qiao clearly sees all signs of life leaving the old man in an instant. He feels a little panicked and uneasy.

“Mimi.”

He calls out to Mimi, wanting to walk over and take a closer look. But Mimi let out a sharp yowl, her tiny sharp teeth biting into Ming Qiao’s clothes, refusing to let him approach.

Both Ming Qiao’s father and Mimi’s father strictly forbade them to leave the valley. Amid Mimi’s fierce meowing, Ming Qiao finally takes a step back.

“Grandpa, I’m leaving now.”

When someone dies, they need to be buried. But Ming Qiao is too young, he can’t bury the old man. In the end, he throws another bun at the old man before being dragged back to his house by Mimi, looking back at every step.

The blood-red sky outside the valley seems to be spreading into the valley itself. Sitting on the threshold, Ming Qiao thinks of the old man’s words, rubbing his eyes in sadness.

The old man said that the great demon would destroy the world. He also said that if daddy didn’t come back soon, Ming Qiao would never see him again.

“Mimi, I miss daddy.”

Ming Qiao misses his father very much. He counts the buns his father made for him several times. There are only two corn buns left. Ming Qiao doesn’t want to eat them. He will wait for his father to come back and eat them together.

The blood-red sunset reflects in the sky. A loud rumbling sound, louder than thunder, echoes through the heavens and the earth.

On the old wooden threshold, little Ming Qiao opens his big eyes wide. He doesn’t see his father return. The last thing he sees is an overwhelming red mist that, in an instant, covers everything.

He feels no pain. But then his small body falls backward with a thud, completely losing consciousness.

It’s unclear how much time has passed.

Ming Qiao is jolted awake by pain. His two short legs are being held upside down by someone who shakes him violently.

The dizziness from the shaking makes Ming Qiao wrinkle his face, feeling as if he is going to vomit.

Just as he gags, the next second, he is tossed aside like a hot potato. The voice that followed is full of disdain: “Don’t you dare throw up on me. If you do, I’ll kill you.”

The unfamiliar voice makes Ming Qiao, who fell to the ground, stop retching and look up in confusion. When he does, he becomes even more confused.

“Where is this place?”

Ming Qiao looks around at the old, rundown temple. He finds himself there with a group of kids, either standing or sitting inside.

All the kids are dressed in ragged clothes, looking like beggars. In one corner, a person lay sleeping under a tattered blanket, completely covered. Judging by the size of the blanket, it seems to be a seven or eight-year-old child.

“You’re asking where this place is? Of course, this is my are! You come to my area and don’t even know the rules?”

The kid who lifted Ming Qiao is stout. He squints his eyes and starts laying down the rules for Ming Qiao. And the rule he set is that Ming Qiao has to hand over anything valuable he has on him.

Ming Qiao’s white fur-lined cloak. Ming Qiao’s little jade pendant. And Ming Qiao’s gemstone-studded storage ring.

“These are mine! I won’t give them to you!”

Ming Qiao has already been stripped of his cloak and his jade pendant was taken. Now, as the kid tries to pull off his storage ring, Ming Qiao’s eyes reddened with anger. He desperately pulls his hand back.

He is over three years old, as short as a small carrot. Against the older kid who is seven or eight, pulling back is useless.

Seeing that his storage ring is about to be taken, Ming Qiao’s face reddens with frustration. He suddenly has strength to shove the bad kid to the ground.

The door of the old temple is closed. Ming Qiao can’t escape, so he turns around and quickly runs to the corner. 

“Damn it, you’re asking for it!”

The bad kid, enraged from being pushed over, curses and chases after Ming Qiao, trying to grab him. He chases, and Ming Qiao runs.

The two of them, one big and one small, run around in the corner, and soon Ming Qiao’s breathing becomes heavy.

His small face turns to a frightening shade of red. His big round eyes are wet and shiny. His mouth is slightly open as if he can’t catch his breath.

“Keep running! Let’s see where you can go!”

The bad kid, seeing that Ming Qiao is running out of energy, curses again and reaches out to grab him. Seeing the hand coming toward him, Ming Qiao is so scared that he stumbles.

The next second, Ming Qiao can’t hold back any longer. He pulls open the thin blanket covering the sleeping child in the corner. Then he hides inside it.

The bad kid: “?”

The bad kid stares at the two small legs sticking out from under the blanket, frozen in place.

“You, you—”

He wants to pull out those trembling little legs sticking out of the blanket. But he hesitates at the thought of the owner of the blanket. He doesn’t dare to move.

At that moment, the blanket’s owner, You Qing, awakes. His sleep is interrupted, even his blanket is stolen.

————————————

Author’s note:

Qiao Qiao: Big brother, save me!