Chapter 171: Protagonist 9

Where the hell did this little brat come from?

Even in the middle of getting thoroughly pummeled by Gongxi Yue, Xiao Shou instinctively sensed that something was wrong. During the brief moments when he wasn’t getting hit, his eyes darted to the child cradled in Mu Yiling’s arms. For reasons he couldn’t explain, a surge of hostility rose in his chest.

As Mu Yiling carried Qian within three meters of Xiao Shou, three people present suddenly heard the voice of the System in their ears.

[Ding—Detected another Conquest System of the same level. Alert: Both hosts have now entered Competition Mode. The losing host will be devoured by the winner!]

Qian’s own System—already half-crippled from being corroded by various forces—chimed in with its usual glitchy stutter.

[Host, please continue your conquest… conq…]

Qian scratched her ear, utterly unfazed, and reached out again to tug on Mu Yiling’s silver hair.

Her System had been suppressed and mangled long before it ever arrived in this world. Apart from these rare moments when it managed to squeeze out a warning, it was usually silent, incapable of nagging in her ear like it used to.

Not that Qian understood the meaning anyway. She treated the voice like background noise.

Just like her aunt—always making noise around her. When she didn’t want to listen, she simply tuned it out.

Though Qian was technically the one with the System, her current status was more like that of a minor using a child account—most functions were restricted. For now, her guardian, her contractual partner and birthgiver, Gongxi Yue, managed everything on her behalf.

Gongxi Yue, hearing the System prompt, showed no change in expression—she had expected this. The only noticeable reaction was that her blows landed even harder.

The one with the biggest reaction was Xiao Shou. His face twisted from the double assault of psychological shock and physical torment.

His System had never told him there might be another competitor with a System inside the same world!

But then, he had another thought—what was he even panicking about? It was just a two-year-old kid. How could she possibly compete with him?

He didn’t know that the other System was being shared by a mother-daughter pair.

That brief flicker of self-reassurance lasted all of two seconds before it was ground to dust—literally—beneath Gongxi Yue’s boot as she stomped hard on his head.

Suddenly, a horrifying realization hit Xiao Shou like lightning.

Could it be… could Gongxi Yue, his target female lead, have already been conquered by this little brat?!

Wait. No. An even more terrifying possibility dawned on him.

Why did this kid… look so much like Gongxi Yue?

Could she… could she actually be Gongxi Yue’s child?

His mind reeled.

How could the female lead he hadn’t even conquered yet already have a child?!

And how the hell could another Conquest target skip the line and become the female lead’s kid?! What kind of cheat move was this? How was this even allowed?!

The earth-shattering collapse happening in his mind didn’t slow down his survival instincts. Under Gongxi Yue’s relentless assault, Xiao Shou scrambled to survive, screaming at his System while trying to crawl away—only to be kicked straight back into the water.

Gluglugluglug!

As he choked beneath the surface, he heard Gongxi Yue’s cold voice:

“Do me a favor and watch my daughter for a moment. I need to take this man away for a little… processing.”

Before he could react, he felt himself yanked out of the water by an overwhelming force.

A sense of imminent doom like he’d never felt before surged up from his gut. Xiao Shou tossed aside all pretense of dignity and desperately called out to the only person present who might save him.

“Saintess! Save me! I swear I don’t even know what I did wrong! If I have to die, at least let me die knowing why!”

They hadn’t exactly been enemies until now, right? Even if he hadn’t successfully won her over, they’d had some pretty good conversations. That couldn’t all have been fake. Maybe she’d speak up for him?

Mu Yiling had enjoyed his storytelling, sure, but that didn’t change the fundamental fact: her baseline trust level for these two people wasn’t remotely the same.

If there was a bad guy between the two, there was no question—it wasn’t Gongxi Yue, the top disciple of the Yunyin Immortal Sect.

Likewise, if one of them was lying, it sure as hell wasn’t Gongxi Yue.

The signs were obvious: Gongxi Yue was cold and terse; Xiao Shou was glib and slippery.

So, Mu Yiling gave him a sincere and straightforward reply:

“Sorry, there’s nothing I can do. I hope you’ll reflect on your mistakes and, if you live through this, try to be a better person.”

Xiao Shou almost cursed out loud.

But there wasn’t time. With Gongxi Yue dragging him out of the Wind and Snow Mountain Valley, panic overtook him completely.

Where was she taking him? Was she going to kill him?

Xiao Shou was never one of those men who cared more about pride than life itself. When chasing women, he’d stoop and grovel without shame. Now, he could just as easily play the pitiful victim, crying and begging for mercy.

“Eldest Young Miss! This lowly one knows his mistakes! I swear on my life—I’ll never approach Second Miss again, never harbor any ill intent toward the Gongxi Family! Please, I’m begging you, spare me!”

In his mind, he figured Gongxi Yue’s anger was all about defending her sister’s honor, so he stuck to pleading on that point.

His body was battered all over—not just cuts and bruises, but internal injuries too. Sword qi had torn fine cracks through his meridians, leaving him in such pain he wanted to curl up and scream.

Gongxi Yue dumped him onto the snowy mountainside and stood over him, looking down at this pathetic, wretched man.

For the first time, she felt a killing intent this strong. Her fingers kept stroking the hilt of her sword, but in the end, she forced herself to hold back.

Killing him was easy. But the moment he died, that System inside him would break free—and sooner or later, it would latch onto a new host and bring trouble again.

Her only option was to keep suppressing Xiao Shou, draining the System’s energy little by little until it was weak enough for Qian’s System to devour it. Only then could she ensure there would be no future threat.

Xiao Shou, still sobbing and begging, suddenly felt a cold touch at his neck. His voice cut off mid-wail.

Gongxi Yue leaned down, her slender, icy fingers resting against his throat. The chill was sharp and biting—like the edge of a sword poised at his jugular.

Xiao Shou’s Adam’s apple bobbed with fear, trembling uncontrollably.

“I’m quite curious,” Gongxi Yue said calmly. “If I ruin your face and make you unable to speak, how will you continue to deceive others?”

“No! I… mmph—!”

A searing pain shot through Xiao Shou’s throat and tongue. Under Gongxi Yue’s unflinching gaze, he let out a strangled, trembling scream before losing consciousness.

So terrifying.

In that final moment before blacking out, Xiao Shou could no longer see this woman before him as just another target for conquest. Instead, she became a shadow looming over his heart—a nightmare he would never shake.

Encountering her meant one thing: pain and suffering would follow.

Gongxi Yue calmly wiped the blood from her hands, glanced once at the crumpled man lying like a rag on the ground, then turned and left.

But she didn’t go far. Stepping onto a distant snow peak, she quietly observed Xiao Shou from afar.

As expected of someone with a System—even after being beaten so miserably, he didn’t die.

Not long after, as if stung by something unseen, Xiao Shou jerked up from the snow with a gasp.

Seeing no one around, this man—who’d just scraped back a thread of life—immediately dropped all pretense. Like a madman, he screamed at a point in the air.

Unfortunately, with his throat destroyed, not even his curses came out right. Moments later, wracked with pain, he collapsed back into the snow, pounding the bloodied ice in rage and frustration.

Gongxi Yue had no interest in his thoughts at the moment. She simply waited quietly. Sure enough, after a while, a surge of energy stirred within Xiao Shou, leaving him much improved—at least enough to crawl to his feet.

His System had intervened. Who knew what price he had paid for that help?

Clearly, he was far from reaching a dead end. And his System still held considerable power.

At its core, Xiao Shou’s so-called “conquering” of others—gaining their “love”—was always just a means to extract devotion. That devotion, in turn, became “Fortune.”

Fortune, mysterious as it sounded, was essentially a unique kind of energy.

Once that energy was stolen by an external force like his System, it would never flow back into this world. Over time, the damage was cumulative.

This world had gone thousands of years without a single successful Ascension. The highest anyone could reach was Loose Immortal, like her own master, the Lingzhao Sword Immortal.

And perhaps—just perhaps—the System was the reason why.

What cultivator didn’t long for Ascension?

In the future Gongxi Yue had glimpsed, Xiao Shou would indeed claw his way to Ascension by stealing the Fortune of countless others. How laughable.

Back at Snowfall Palace, Gongxi Yue returned to find Qian sprawled atop Mu Yiling’s tiger Spirit Beast, her entire little head buried deep into the thick fur, clinging stubbornly to the tiger’s ears.

The tiger lay there, twitching in irritation, clearly wanting to shake her off but too afraid to actually do it—left to whimper and grumble in helpless frustration.

Mu Yiling stood nearby, clearly at a loss for how to pry the child off, wearing a troubled, awkward expression.

Gongxi Yue stepped forward and, with practiced ease, grabbed her daughter by the back of her collar and lifted her up. Her grip wasn’t rough, so Qian simply lifted her head from the tiger’s fur, revealing tufts of saliva-matted fur where she’d been gnawing.

“Let go. Get down,” Gongxi Yue said, her cold tone the kind that could terrify ten Junior Disciples and reduce Xiao Shou to tears—but it had little effect on her young daughter.

Qian clung stubbornly to the tiger and even dared to flash a toothless grin at her stern mother. “Mama! Tiger! Fuzzy! Tiger! Rumble rumble! Ah ah ah ah!”

“No. This is someone else’s Spirit Beast. You can’t just claim it for yourself.”

“Tiger! Tiger! Papa!” Perhaps finally sensing that her mother’s expression was growing dangerous, the child’s survival instincts kicked in. In a sweet, crisp little voice, she called out, “Niang! Niangqin!”

{“Niangqin” (娘亲) means “mother” in a respectful or affectionate way, often used in historical or traditional Chinese settings.}

It was the first time the little one had obediently and properly called her “Niangqin”—her little voice soft and syrupy sweet.

Gongxi Yue stared at her for a few seconds, then unceremoniously placed her back atop the tiger and said stiffly, “You can play a little longer.”

She turned to Mu Yiling. “I’d like to invite you to join me in retrieving some Extreme Cold Heavenly Water from the Secret Realm. Would you be interested?”

Mu Yiling, too, required Extreme Cold Heavenly Water for her cultivation. But the stuff was hidden deep within the perilous, labyrinthine caves of the Secret Realm in the heart of the snow mountains, guarded by fearsome beasts. Every trip was exhausting.

Now, with her own supply nearly depleted and Gongxi Yue—a reliable, top-tier ally—taking the initiative to invite her, Mu Yiling naturally had no reason to refuse.

This arrangement made everything simple: the Spirit Beasts they brought, and the little girl they had to take along, could just keep mingling and playing together.

Ever since she first saw the tiger, Qian had shown no intention of returning to her mother’s arms. The tiger Spirit Beast, its round ears perked up, had unwillingly become her pillow, playmat, and mount.

Gongxi Yue completely forgot she’d only allowed her daughter “a little longer.”

On the journey, Gongxi Yue rode her sword, while Mu Yiling traveled on her Spirit Beast. By rough estimation, with Qian stubbornly refusing to leave the tiger’s back, half her tiny body ended up snuggled right into Mu Yiling’s arms.

Gongxi Yue turned her head away, refusing to watch her daughter clinging to someone else’s embrace, drooling all over them with great enthusiasm.

Right now, Qian was like a living medicine pouch, neutralizing the negative influence of Xiao Shou’s System’s aura on those around her. Gongxi Yue decided it was necessary for her future friend, Mu Yiling, to spend more time with the child.

Better to let her be “conquered” by this little troublemaker than to risk being tricked body, heart, and soul by Xiao Shou.

After all, at least this way, there would be no loss of Fortune.

The only lasting side effect… might be a growing fondness for children.

Deep within the snow mountains, Mu Yiling skillfully located the entrance to the Secret Realm cave, hidden beneath layers of wind and snow.

With a single-handed seal, she revealed the concealed opening.

“We’re about to head in. Are you really not going to take Qian back?” Mu Yiling asked.

Draped in her fluffy winter clothes, Qian clung to Mu Yiling’s shoulder like a furry shawl.

“I’ll lead the way. You just follow with Qian,” Gongxi Yue said, striding ahead without the slightest intention of taking the child.

Mu Yiling, never one to mince words, blinked and asked the tall, graceful figure before her, “Is it that you don’t want to carry her… or that you’re just bad at it?”

Gongxi Yue paused, then replied with righteous conviction, “Neither. I just think Qian prefers being with you. Besides, the cave is dangerous. I want to temper myself and handle everything ahead personally. Carrying a child would be inconvenient.”

In conclusion: “Don’t overthink it.”

Mu Yiling: “Oh.”