Chapter Seventy-Seven: Willow Calamity

Gu Zhiheng, after listening to Liu E’s words, felt increasingly overwhelmed the more he thought about it. His emotions surged so violently that he nearly lost control of his mind. Sensing something was seriously wrong, Liu E simply knocked him out.

He knew Gu Zhiheng had shouldered far too much and understood the suffocating pressure within him, but he never imagined that his own sudden presence would push the young man to the brink of complete collapse. He truly hadn’t expected that a few simple words from himself would drive Gu Zhiheng into such a perilous state.

Looking at the unconscious figure in his arms, Liu E sighed. He could empathize with Gu Zhiheng and understood how hard his journey had been. In fact, he’d known of Gu Zhiheng since he’d first arrived in Jia City, thinking that Gu would linger there longer before coming to find him. Clearly, he still didn’t understand this young man well enough, nor could he fathom what was going through his mind.

He brought Gu Zhiheng back to the inn, laid him gently on the bed, and sat beside him to keep watch.

Gu Zhiheng’s condition wasn’t truly dangerous; once he woke, everything would be fine. He could recover on his own.

He had seen this child a few times before. Gu’s childhood had been marked by bitterness and hardship. His resilience was already remarkable, but the burden he carried was simply too heavy—it had finally broken him.

“Damn, couldn’t you have gone a little easier?” Gu Zhiheng awoke quickly, rubbing the back of his head, which throbbed with pain. This man really didn’t know his own strength—sometimes it seemed as if he wanted to knock him out for good.

“That’s no way to talk. I did it for your own good, and now you’re blaming me?” Liu E flicked Gu Zhiheng’s forehead, his expression full of indulgent affection.

This child was still too young, unable to see the bigger picture. In time, after facing more of the world’s storms, he would understand.

“So, what should I call you? ‘Senior’ sounds so old-fashioned—it’s a little weird.” Gu Zhiheng pushed away Liu E’s hand in annoyance and rolled over with a huff.

Ever since that pervert Jun Luan disgusted him on a daily basis, Gu had come to suspect the intentions of any man who got too close, convinced that they were all a little mentally unbalanced.

“What’s with that look? I may be older, but I’m still in my prime.” Liu E smiled and tossed an inexplicable remark Gu Zhiheng’s way, then fixed him with a serious gaze.

“Wait, are you actually a decent old man?” Gu Zhiheng couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Appearances really could be deceiving!

Illusions, all of it—everything he saw was just a façade this man put on.

“I’m done joking. Do you realize you almost lost control just now?” Liu E’s expression turned grave. Entering a state of madness was no small matter. Had no one been there, the consequences for Gu Zhiheng—and everyone else—would have been unthinkable.

They wouldn’t only be left cleaning up chaos, but also dealing with the turmoil among the great families and the unregistered spirits and monsters. If that time came, it would be even worse than the disasters of five centuries before, and many would pay with their lives.

Opportunists would surely take advantage of the chaos; what appeared on the surface as disorder carried hidden costs that neither a single monster nor a member of the Gu family could bear alone.

“I know. But it didn’t affect me at all—it was just a moment of emotional instability.” Gu Zhiheng dismissed what had just happened as if it were nothing.

Madness? Impossible.

As a child, he often lost control when forming seals or drawing talismans. All he needed was to calm himself and rest, and he would recover. His case was different from others—he wouldn’t suddenly become violent or unrecognizable.

So the things Liu E worried about were never going to happen; his concerns were unnecessary.

Gu Zhiheng understood this perfectly, which was why he usually kept his temperament and emotions strictly in check. In front of outsiders, he was always cold and distant, practically wearing a sign that said “Keep Away.” Most people never dared approach him unless he wanted something from them and allowed them to get closer.

He’d learned early on how to manage these boundaries, how to wield control.

“Don’t doubt it. The old men of the Gu family have done everything possible to keep me alive—they’ve prepared for every scenario.” He rubbed his face, a trace of childhood sorrow flickering in his eyes.

As the saying goes, there’s no pain without comparison. After seeing what other children’s lives were like, he realized the Gu elders back at the ancestral hall never saw him as human. In their eyes, he was nothing but a soulless learning machine.

And they weren’t wrong. Gu Zhiheng was indeed a machine without feelings. Whatever they said, he did; whatever he was supposed to be, he became.

“Don’t dwell on the past. Everything will pass.” Though Gu Zhiheng insisted he was fine, Liu E could see the cracks beneath the surface.

Of course—anyone in his place would feel hurt and resentful.

“From now on, just call me ‘big brother.’ I’ll take care of you, and I’ll protect you.” Looking at Gu Zhiheng, who strained so hard to keep his composure, Liu E couldn’t help but feel a pang of heartache.

Among the Gu family, he only cared about two: Gu Mojiang from the past, and Gu Zhiheng now. Both were people he would protect for a lifetime—even at the cost of his own life.

“Tch, I don’t need you. I can handle myself.” They’d just met, and already he was making promises—definitely not a trustworthy type.

“Listen, kid, your big brother here is as upright as they come, and I mean what I say.” Liu E couldn’t help but laugh at Gu Zhiheng’s reaction.

He looked so clever and sharp, but was really just a foolish, naive boy.

“Honestly, you’re already so old—is it really appropriate for me to call you ‘brother’?” It wasn’t that Gu Zhiheng was being rude; he just couldn’t bring himself to say it.

He was different from Chu Xingran and the others—this man was obviously the stern, unyielding elder type, not someone easily fooled.

Liu E wasn’t offended by Gu Zhiheng’s complaints about his age. He simply stared at him for a moment.

“Don’t look at me like that, or I’ll think you’re interested in me. I’m really not into that!” Damn it, was there not a single straight guy left in his life these days?

“Heh, your big brother isn’t into you either! You’re just a brat who hasn’t even grown up yet!” Liu E countered a few jabs, then decided not to bicker further.

This child really had gone astray—he hadn’t been out in the world long, but already had lost his sense of propriety.

“Big brother, as long as you’re actually straight, then I’m reassured.” Gu Zhiheng patted his chest in relief and lay down to sleep.

As long as he wasn’t like that freak Jun Luan, he could rest easy.

After all, life and dignity were equally important—he wasn’t about to let an old man ruin his innocence.

Even if he was rather good-looking!