A-Jiu · Chat

Opening 1 · Soul-Transmigration Win-Back Route When 你 transmigrated into this novel, the system only gave three sentences. The first: your current identity is the third disciple of Qingji Sect, and yesterday, in front of the entire sect, you smashed the jade pendant A-Jiu had offered you onto the ground. The second: A-Jiu's affection for you is currently negative one hundred. The third: your task is to make him fall in love with you again. The three lines floated on that translucent blue panel in front of you, cold and unfeeling, like a verdict. 你 stood under the corridor of the Qingji Sect disciples' quarters, watching the drizzling autumn rain outside, and spent an entire incense stick of time digesting those three sentences — then cursed. Yesterday. It was yesterday. In the original novel, A-Jiu came to the mountain gate at fifteen, holding the jade pendant, to claim kinship, and the original body said "Sorry, I don't really remember you" — that was the first time his heart was broken. And that was only the beginning. Now the point of transmigration is three years later. Over these three years, the original body, without knowing it, hurt A-Jiu's heart again and again — when A-Jiu was bullied among the outer disciples, the original body passed by and didn't intervene, because he didn't see it; when A-Jiu finally got into the inner sect to get close to him, the original body found the child clingy and deliberately kept his distance; A-Jiu spent three years inching closer, and the original body inched him away. Until yesterday, A-Jiu finally gathered the courage to present the jade pendant he had worn against his body for ten years, to remind him of the promise made at age eight. The original body smashed the pendant in front of a crowd of fellow disciples. The system didn't tell 你 the details of what the original body said, only gave an affection value — negative one hundred. 你 closed his eyes. What does negative one hundred mean? Affection toward a roadside stone is probably zero. Negative one hundred is hatred. That Miao frontier youth who had treated the original body as a moon god since he was eight, the child who would squat on a rock and secretly clap while watching the original body practice swords, the A-Jiu who walked forty-seven days of mountain roads with blood blisters on the soles of his feet just to see him — now he hates him. "System," 你 spoke in his mind, "is there anything like a beginner's gift pack?" The panel flickered, and a line of text appeared: This system only provides affection inquiry functions and does not offer any conquest assistance. All actions are decided by the host, and the consequences are borne by yourself. Then it disappeared, and even the translucent blue panel shrank into a tiny point of light in the corner. 你 took a deep breath of the damp cold air under the corridor. Do it yourself. 你 found A-Jiu in the corridor behind the disciples' quarters. He sat under the eaves, rainwater splashing from the steps soaking the hem of his clothes, black robes pressed against the bluestone, bleeding into a deeper ink color. He didn't take shelter from the rain. He just sat there, head bowed, clutching something in his palm — a pale green jade pendant broken into three pieces, pieced together, the cracks carefully wrapped with strips torn from the hem of his clothes, wrapped crooked and clumsy. His fingers were trembling, whether from cold or from holding something back, it was impossible to tell. 你 walked over and stopped two steps behind him. A-Jiu heard the footsteps but didn't turn around. He just quickly wiped his face with his sleeve, then tucked the broken jade pieces into his chest, the movement slow and gentle, like hiding stolen goods. "Does senior brother need something?" His voice was soaked through by the autumn rain. No trailing lilt, no soft and rising "brother." His tone was flat, as flat as a pool of stagnant water. 你 looked at his soaked cuffs, at the way he curled up by the corridor pillar — he was hiding. For three years he had never hidden from the original body; no matter how much the original body kept him at a distance, he would press close like a foolish young beast that didn't know any better. Now, finally, he was hiding. "A-Jiu." 你 crouched down to his eye level. A-Jiu raised his eyes. Those water-blue eyes were filled with rain and red veins, the corners swollen, lashes still wet. His gaze at 你 had changed, no longer that look of carefully offering a jade pendant and looking up to call him brother — it was cold now, icy, like a frozen lake in a Miao frontier winter. But he still answered: "Mm." His voice was hoarse beyond recognition. "I'm sorry," 你 said. A-Jiu's lashes trembled. Something cracked in those cold blue eyes, a tiny, tiny corner. He didn't speak, just kept looking at 你, as if trying to tell whether the words were real. His fingers inside his robes clenched the broken jade pieces, knuckles going white. 你 crouched under the eaves, with a curtain of slanting rain between them. 你 knew those three words weren't enough. A shattered thing can't be mended with an apology, and a jade pendant broken into three pieces can't be repaired by wrapping it with cloth. But at least he heard it. He didn't get up and leave, and his lashes were still trembling. The system's panel flickered in the corner. 你 didn't look at it. The number wouldn't get any prettier, but that didn't matter — today wasn't about raising affection anyway.