Yu Ze Mountain — although it has “mountain” in its name — is really just a small hill, hidden among the southwestern mountains, completely unremarkable.
There were no people living on this little hill, yet it was rumored that an old immortal resided there.
During holidays and festivals, believers from nearby would come to the foot of the mountain to pay their respects.
Over time, this brought a touch of human activity to the place.
Later on, the villagers at the foot of the hill pooled their resources to build a small temple.
Every festival, people would come to burn incense and pray.
Out of ten wishes, one or two would come true, and so Yu Ze Mountain’s mystical reputation spread, and the little temple at its foot bustled with incense and worshippers.
But as for the mountain itself, no one had ever ventured inside.
It wasn’t for lack of trying over the years — it was simply impossible to enter.
Anyone who attempted to go up ended up wandering in circles and being led right back to where they started.
Some turned this into ghost stories and posted them online.
Adventure enthusiasts even came specially to explore, but they all found themselves looping around the outskirts over and over.
As these incidents piled up, the mountain’s eerie reputation grew.
Some elders said it was because the immortal on the mountain did not wish to be disturbed.
So the villagers gave up their curiosity, only bringing even more offerings during festivals.
Still, tourists with a taste for adventure refused to give up.
They came again and again, only to leave empty-handed.
Thus Yu Ze Mountain gained another nickname: Confusion Mountain.
Loose Shirt Style
That evening, the usually quiet mountaintop suddenly stirred with wind and swirling clouds.
The surrounding trees rustled without wind, their leaves brushing together with a sha sha sound.
Birds in the forest were startled and took off, circling above the peak, chirping noisily.
It was at this moment that Bai Maomao hatched.
There was a small courtyard on the mountaintop, with two or three brick-tile houses that looked quite old but were kept very tidy.
In front of the brick house, a fence enclosed a little patch of ground, neatly planted with young seedlings.
In the middle of the courtyard sat Bai Maomao’s little nest.
Every day around this time, A’Mu (Mama) would bring him out to bask in the sun.
The sun’s warm embrace made Bai Maomao feel very comfortable.
But today was a little different.
Curled up in his egg, Bai Maomao thought it might be time to come out.
He kicked hard with his little claws, turned over, then started pecking at the shell with all his might.
The shell was tough, and it took many pecks before a small crack finally appeared.
A faint light shone through the gap, making Bai Maomao even more eager.
He wriggled his little butt, held his breath, and pecked even harder.
The crack spread bit by bit, growing larger, until it became a small hole just big enough for Bai Maomao to poke his head through.
With curious black-bean eyes, Bai Maomao stuck his fuzzy head out of the hole.
“Gaa~”
The air outside was fresh.
Neatly planted green seedlings filled the yard, and beyond them, unknown small flowers swayed gently in the breeze.
The warm sunlight and everything before his eyes made Bai Maomao feel very comfortable.
Squinting contentedly, Bai Maomao sat in the shell and started nibbling at it.
Breaking out had taken a lot of energy, and now he was just the right amount of hungry.
So when Su Yao returned, she found that the spot where she’d been sunning the egg no longer held a round, glossy egg — instead, there was a fluffy little…
Duckling?
Su Yao frowned, looking at Bai Maomao who was happily munching on eggshell.
She wasn’t sure this was really what had hatched from her egg.
Sensing a familiar scent, Bai Maomao looked up in puzzlement, and his little black eyes immediately lit up.
Mama’s home!
“Gaa gaa~”
Tap.
Down on the ground.
Bai Maomao dropped the leftover eggshell and flapped his little wings, wobbling as he walked toward Su Yao.
But having just hatched, Bai Maomao clearly didn’t know how to walk yet.
After two unsteady steps, his left foot tripped over his right, and he landed on his butt with a thump.
Not far away, Su Yao couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
Bai Maomao sat there flapping his tiny wings in confusion, his shiny black-bean eyes staring pitifully at Su Yao.
His butt hurt so much—why wasn’t Mama coming to pick him up?
Su Yao’s lips curved in a smile.
She stepped forward and picked the little duckling up from the ground.
Bai Maomao’s eyes sparkled.
He flapped his small wings twice and chirped affectionately to greet his Mama: “Gaa~”
Su Yao reached out a finger and tapped his head.
“So you climbed out of that eggshell?”
Bai Maomao followed her finger’s direction, saw the leftover eggshell on the ground, and immediately nodded hard.
“Gaa gaa~”
— Maomao ate it all!
Su Yao was half-convinced, half-doubtful.
The sect leader had solemnly entrusted her with that egg, telling her to take good care of it — and it had hatched into…a duck?
Not quite believing it, she turned Bai Maomao over again and again, checking inside and out.
Finally, she was speechless.
It really was a genuine little duck.
“Oh well,”
Su Yao sighed, meeting Bai Maomao’s eyes.
“Since the sect leader told me to look after you, from now on, you’ll stay with me.”
Bai Maomao tilted his head, only half understanding.
Seeing Mama smile at him, he stretched out his neck, nuzzled her face, and let out a happy chirp.
Ten years later, in the mountains.
In the mountains, time was meaningless — ten years passed in a flash.
Bai Maomao’s size hadn’t changed at all, but his strength had grown quite a bit.
Every day he followed Mama into the mountains to gather herbs, flapping his wings, his little claws scurrying rapidly.
This day was like any other: Bai Maomao was following Mama into the forest to pick herbs.
But today felt a little different — there was a chill on his back, as if someone were watching him.
Pretending to obediently follow behind Su Yao, he took two steps, then suddenly turned his head.
His sharp black eyes scanned warily around him.
The forest was still and silent — no wind, not even a rustle of leaves.
Bai Maomao smacked his little beak, feigned turning back to walk forward, then suddenly spun around again.
The woods were still quiet.
Above him, a leaf spiraled slowly to the ground.
From farther ahead, Su Yao called out to him,
“Bai Maomao, hurry up!”
Bai Maomao flapped his little wings.
“Gaa~” he responded, then ran with his short legs over to Mama.
Meanwhile, behind a tree, Lang Junxian slumped to the ground, gasping for breath.
His eyes were already a little glazed over.
His frail body couldn’t handle too much exertion.
The pointed ears atop his head stood up warily, while his sharp claws went slack.
His father had given him something to drink after rescuing him from his mother, and ever since being cast into these mountains, his body had been changing — from his ears, to his claws, to his tail…
Inhuman traits had appeared little by little, and he grew weaker by the day.
The mushrooms he found in the forest could no longer satisfy his constant hunger.
Deep inside, something told him that if he didn’t eat meat soon, he would die.
Lang Junxian licked his cracked lips, grabbed a handful of dusty mushrooms by the tree, and stuffed them into his mouth, chewing greedily as he leaned against the trunk, slowly regaining strength.
Then he thought of that plump little duck that had just waddled by.
His stomach gurgled loudly.
If he caught it, maybe it would fill him up.
Once he’d recovered a bit, Lang Junxian began tracking the scent he had picked up earlier.
That feeling of being watched returned.
Bai Maomao flapped his little wings in annoyance, sticking close to Mama’s side.
This was Mama’s herb field.
Every few days she came to tend the herbs, and ever since Bai Maomao learned to walk, he’d been coming along.
Su Yao was focused on gathering herbs.
Bai Maomao stuffed a little mushroom into his mouth, bit down, and immediately tasted a bitter juice.
He shook his head hard and spat the mushroom out with a “ptoo ptoo.”
Flapping his wings unhappily, he complained: “Gaa~”
— So bitter!
Su Yao turned her head and laughed.
“Serves you right for eating random things.”
She went back to fertilizing the herbs.
Bai Maomao smacked his beak again, spat twice more until the bitterness faded, then finally perked up, flapping his little wings and hopping happily around the herb field.
Completely ignoring the hungry gaze watching from afar.
Lang Junxian lay crouched in the grass, body taut, his tail pressed flat against the ground.
His sharp claws lightly dug into the dirt.
That duck looked so deliciously plump.
He swallowed hard, forcing himself not to pounce right away.
Not yet.
This wasn’t the perfect moment.
Unaware, Bai Maomao continued frolicking through the field, chasing a colorful butterfly this way and that, until slowly, he wandered closer and closer to where Lang Junxian lay hidden…
It was almost time.
Lang Junxian tensed, claws silently gathering strength.
As soon as Bai Maomao ran past him, he lunged.
Patient One: “You are mine.”
Patient Two: “If you dare to leave, I’ll kill you.”
Patient N: “I’m dead now…you must be free at last, right…”
Pei Lu: (speechless)
The attacker is always the same person; the shou (bottom) can use mental powers to enter the patient’s spiritual world.
Fake-cold abstinent shou × real multiple-personality gong.
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.