Chapter 14: The Real Heir in a Fake Young Master Heartthrob Novel

When Shen Yijing reached out his hand, Jiujiu climbed into his palm and crouched down, clutching the prayer beads in his beak, clearly intending to give them to his dad right in front of the abbot.

Seeing this, Mother Gu became a little worried the abbot would be offended and stepped forward to intervene. But the kindly-faced abbot just smiled and gently chanted a Buddhist verse.

“Once a gift is given, it belongs to him.”

With that, the abbot began tidying up the offerings in front of the Buddha. A young monk came out to guide them toward the wishing tree at the back. Long strips of prayer ribbons hung down, swaying gently in the wind.

Shen Yijing, holding the prayer beads, wanted to return them. He didn’t particularly believe in such things, but out of respect for his mother, he treated it with some reverence.

Jiujiu was so tiny he could hardly walk while dragging the beads, so Shen Yijing wound them around his own wrist after a couple loops.

Monks at the wishing tree were distributing prayer ribbons. While they queued up, Shen Yijing asked for two.

On the long table nearby were brush and ink. Aside from Jiujiu, the rest of the family could all write calligraphy.

While they wrote, Jiujiu used his claws to messily dip in the ink and write the characters of their world on his ribbon.

By the standards of their world, his writing was actually quite neat—he was, after all, a habitual offender who always got punished by copying scriptures every time he misbehaved.

Once Jiujiu finished, Shen Yijing hung both his and Jiujiu’s ribbons high up in the tree.

He wished for Jiujiu to be with him longer and for the whole family to be safe and well. Jiujiu drew a picture on his that said “Daddy is always the best.”

Shen Yijing still had the pastry the abbot gave Jiujiu. While sitting on a step eating it, he broke off a piece and gave half to Jiujiu.

When it came to food, Jiujiu didn’t hold back at all and immediately leaned in for a bite.

It was summer vacation, so the temple was crowded—many like Mother Gu brought their children to pray for academic success.

At noon, they had a simple meal at the temple. The family of three ate plain noodles. Shen Yijing would occasionally lift a long strand and feed it to Jiujiu.

Jiujiu had to tilt his head up for quite a while to eat the long handmade noodle, but Shen Yijing patiently waited.

The temple’s old trees offered ample shade from the blazing sun.

Mother Gu went to deliver the scriptures she had copied earlier, while Shen Yijing took Jiujiu in the opposite direction.

Jiujiu, full and bloated, didn’t feel like walking. He lay in his basket, carried by his dad, occasionally catching the sound of chanting from inside the temple.

The faint scent of sandalwood drifted on the wind.

The early afternoon heat still lingered, and many cicadas chirped noisily in the trees.

Dozing off from contentment, Jiujiu suddenly remembered the abbot and thought of someone the Emperor Dad had once taken him to meet.

That person was also a Buddhist cultivator—not the intimidating kind, but someone who looked approachable, wise, and full of knowledge.

“Jiujiu, do you like it here?”

The teen’s wrist was slender, with just a hint of muscle from regular training. He reached into the basket, wearing the dark beads, and tried to stroke Jiujiu’s head.

“Hey! Jiujiu likes it here!”

Startled awake by his dad’s touch, Jiujiu sat bolt upright and flared his wings, glaring angrily.

“But Jiujiu doesn’t like people always touching his butt!”

He didn’t understand why everyone—from Dad to Dad’s classmate, even Grandma and Grandpa when playing with him—always seemed to grab his butt first, as long as it wasn’t a clearly visible spot.

Shen Yijing plucked Jiujiu out and set him in his palm, showing him how small he really was.

When he closed his hand, he could almost completely enclose him. With such a tiny body, it was impossible not to touch both head and butt.

Jiujiu didn’t want to believe it, so he stood up and gestured to compare. Confirming it was really because he was too small, he sat down and sulked, muttering:

“Jiujiu will grow up.”

And he would grow really big—bigger than Daddy!

Back when he realized he wasn’t growing, he asked Emperor Dad, who said it was because he didn’t eat enough.

So during that period, even while sleeping, he had attendants feed him. After a month, the area he used to chew was sore—but he still hadn’t grown at all.

So Jiujiu secretly checked the phoenix scrolls in Dad’s possession and found that adult phoenixes could cover the sky with their wings.

After that, he stopped forcing himself to grow and decided to take it slow, naturally.

“Yes, I’ll stay with Jiujiu, and we’ll grow together.”

Summer was exhausting even for Shen Yijing. He carried Jiujiu to rest in a small pavilion.

Jiujiu dangled his claws while sitting and, spotting the red koi in the pond below, quickly turned his head aside.

Though greedy, he knew when it wasn’t appropriate.

Even so, he couldn’t stop himself from eyeing those lively, plump fish that visitors had overfed.

By Jiujiu’s estimation, they were slightly bigger than he was.

Getting increasingly hungry just looking, Jiujiu covered his eyes with his wings, deciding to think about dinner only after they left the temple.

“Jiujiu, you can’t eat them.”

Noticing the wing-over-eyes move, Shen Yijing leaned closer, resting his hands on the pavilion rail.

“Cheep cheep cheep~”

Jiujiu didn’t reply as expected, making Shen Yijing suspect he was dodging the question. He reached out and ruffled Jiujiu’s neatly combed feathers.

Usually fussy about cleanliness, Jiujiu was so annoyed he pecked Shen Yijing’s nose.

With a cocky air, it was as if he was asking Shen Yijing, “Dare to try that again?”

“I dare. It didn’t even hurt.”

Shen Yijing said, then quickly pulled him away, worried this stubborn little guy might really bite down hard.

Jiujiu had enough strength—he could crack chestnuts and peanuts himself before directing his dad to shell the rest.

Still sulking, Jiujiu’s attention was soon caught by something else—a bird’s nest in the big tree above. He pushed away Shen Yijing’s hands and said:

“Jiujiu’s going to take a nap.”

With that, he flapped his little wings and flew up. Before landing, he inspected the nest.

It seemed to be occupied, with several bird eggs inside. Jiujiu carefully masked his own aura before settling in.

He adjusted his posture, imitating what he’d seen in cartoons his dad had shown him—starting to incubate the eggs.

He knew that if a mother bird smelled a stranger’s scent in the nest, she might abandon the eggs, so he cleansed his aura completely.

After a while, though, he started to feel cramps in his claws from staying in one position too long.

He tried to shift slightly but was worried he might mess up the eggs.

Finally, unable to bear it, he carefully rose and flew back down—landing on top of his dad’s head.

Maybe it was because he was a bird too, but Jiujiu really liked the feeling of being in a nest.

Too bad this nest was clearly just haphazardly thrown together—it didn’t take long for Jiujiu to feel like something had poked him.

Shen Yijing took the little bird that had landed on his head and placed it back into the basket. Guessing it was probably Jiujiu’s nap time, he didn’t disturb him further.

Jiujiu lay there, earnestly contemplating whether he should build a phoenix nest of his own. It had to be especially beautiful—best if it gleamed with golden light—so that at a glance, anyone could tell the nest’s owner was a phoenix.

When his dad was at school, and Jiujiu was bored and couldn’t sleep, he had sometimes watched animal documentaries with Grandma. He’d learned how birds build their nests, and how some even steal others’ furs. One of the most famous clips showed a bird pecking a panda’s butt.

Watching that, Jiujiu’s beak had started to itch, and he began to feel tempted. If it were him, he definitely wouldn’t peck older pandas. He’d go for freshly born, clean ones—ideally those soft, glutinous-rice-ball-shaped babies that looked 90% new.

Didn’t matter whether they were shedding or not—he’d want to take a few pecks either way.

He didn’t know how many of those rice-ball babies’ fur he’d need to build his phoenix nest. Just imagining it made Jiujiu feel tired. With a sigh, he shifted into a more comfortable position and dozed off.

Suddenly, the idea of sneaking around stealing fur didn’t seem as appealing. It felt much more practical to wait for his dad to become super successful and make him a little bed out of gold instead.

What Jiujiu didn’t expect was that his little prank nap in a random bird’s nest would later turn out to be a big deal—because the eggs in that nest belonged to a protected species.

Years later, as those birds matured, they were studied for a long time. Some scientists even concluded that this was a sign of nature mutating in response to human environmental destruction—birds evolving to prolong their lives in resistance and protest.

Fast asleep, Jiujiu didn’t stir until after 3 p.m., when he was carried down the mountain. He vaguely heard Gu Father and Gu Mother discussing where to eat dinner that evening.

A furry little head peeked out of the basket. Confirming they’d left the temple, Jiujiu chirped a few times to let them know he was awake.

“Jiujiu wants to eat fish. Big fish. Lots of cilantro. If there’s no cilantro, I’m not eating.”

Shen Yijing first relayed Jiujiu’s craving for big fish to his mom, then lifted the curtain and glanced at the little guy. Lowering his voice, he said:

“Cilantro smells awful. Tastes like herbal medicine. How can you think it’s delicious?”

Jiujiu, who had already lain down, stood up indignantly upon hearing this, crossing his wings in a pose similar to humans folding their arms.

“No, cilantro is really delicious! When my dad gets rich, I’m going to hire lots and lots of people who don’t like eating it to grow cilantro for me!”

Hearing him start bragging about his future self again, Shen Yijing reached out and pulled down his crossed wings. When confusion appeared in Jiujiu’s beady eyes, he answered in a low voice:

“That won’t work. Your dad might never have such a day.”

“Eh? Why not? What about my me then?”

Jiujiu unconditionally believed that his dad was truly amazing and would become the most amazing person in the future.

Now hearing Shen Yijing explain this to him personally, he was shocked and couldn’t believe it.

Impossible, absolutely impossible. Even if they changed to another world, Dad would still be the most amazing dad.

Seeing that Jiujiu’s beady eyes had widened considerably in shock, Shen Yijing answered with an especially serious attitude:

“Well, your dad is also growing cilantro.”