Lin Cangyuan had to admit, aside from the fact that Gui Yin had forgotten Sect Leader Qiang’s birthday banquet, if no one had told them that Gui Yin had lost his memories, Lin Cangyuan might not have even noticed.

“All I need is someone to act as a guide for people and places,” Gui Yin said. “Linghuo is enough for that.”

Lin Cangyuan glanced at the stoic boy behind Gui Yin. He turned back to his younger martial brother. “You can go, but you’re also taking my head disciple with you.”

“Deng…Yenuo?” Gui Yin slowly sounded out the name that appeared in his mind.

Lin Cangyuan’s eyes widened. “So, you do remember some things!”

“But if you told me to pick him out in a crowd, then I wouldn’t be able to,” Gui Yin said.

Lin Cangyuan was still excited. “This is great. I was worried about what to do about all your work, but it seems that you’ll be right as rain soon. Ah, my goodness. I was only going to stop by to tell you about a few things, but I lost track of time. I must be going now. I will send Yenuo over tomorrow morning and then the three of you can take the Teleportation Array that goes to Jiumeng City.”

Gui Yin listened to Lin Cangyuan ramble and slowly turned to look at Gui Linghuo behind him.

“This disciple will make the proper preparations,” Gui Linghuo said dutifully.

After receiving Linghuo’s tacit promise, Gui Yin nodded to whatever the excited sect master was saying.

Once the man left, Shan Yu puffed her cheeks, her legs kicking slightly, still refusing to readjust her improper posture.

“Shizun, Sect Master is so rude! Obviously, you said you couldn’t remember anything, but he was still throwing random words at you! Even with all my memories intact, I can feel a headache coming on.”

“That’s because you’re stupid,” Qin Siyi said as she sat down again. “Shizun looked to Da-shixiong for help because he wasn’t sure if going to Jiumeng was the best route. He wanted to make sure. It wasn’t because he was confused.”

Shan Yu immediately sat up, her mind only grasping onto one thing. “Who are you calling stupid!?”

Gui Yin’s hands hovered by the girl’s abdomen as she slid off to keep her from collapsing onto the ground. He retrieved his hands only when Shan Yu was steadily on her two feet and had run over to Siyi for a fight.

A soft sigh exited Gui Yin. He turned to Linghuo behind him. “Huo’er, what do we usually do with these two when we’re out?”

Gui Linghuo lightly cleared his throat. “Truthfully, this disciple has never traveled alone with Shizun. When it comes to banquets and such in the past, Shizun brought both me and Qin-shimei.”

It was safe to assume that, with the addition of Shan Yu, Gui Yin of the past would also bring her along.

Hearing Gui Linghuo’s response, Qin Siyi spoke up. “Shizun, this disciple can take care of A-Yu while you and Da-shixiong are away.”

“Who needs you to take care of me!?” Shan Yu stuck her tongue out and ran back to Gui Yin’s side. She hugged his arm. “I can take care of myself!”

Gui Yin patted the top of the little girl’s head and looked at Qin Siyi. “I don’t doubt you can take care of her, but there’s still the peak to worry about. How about this? I’ll send you two to Ye-shishu’s peak for the time that I’m gone. It shouldn’t take more than a week’s time.”

“That would be the best solution,” Gui Linghuo agreed. He glanced at Shan Yu. “You’ll have to behave while you’re in someone else’s home.”

“Don’t worry, Da-shixiong, I’ll watch her,” Qin Siyi reassured him.

Shan Yu pouted and drilled herself into Gui Yin’s arms. “Hmph!”

Gui Yin glanced between the three children. He patted the back of Shan Yu’s head. “You two, don’t talk like that. A-Yu understands propriety. She’s only acting out because she’s at home. Isn’t that right?”

Shan Yu nodded, the little hairpins in the twin buns on her head flying against Gui Yin’s chest.

Qin Siyi frowned slightly. Her thoughts were written clearly on her face. She felt that Gui Yin spoiled this little young miss far too much.

Compared to Qin Siyi, who was from a common farming family, and Gui Linghuo, whose family had been wiped out by ghost cultivators, Shan Yu had the most blissful life among them before she was sent to Yunjing Pavilion. She was the spoiled young miss of Guiling Shan Clan. Her grandfather doted on her for being his only granddaughter. She was the youngest child with five older cousins, who all equally spoiled her rotten. Although her mother was on the stricter side, she was nowhere near as extreme as the tiger moms that prestigious clans usually housed. In the future, when her grandfather passed away, the mantle of sect master would be directly passed down to her.

In fact, the year after coming to Yunjing Pavilion was probably the hardest time this little girl has ever experienced. Here, no one spoiled her and she had to abide by rules, as well as do chores.

When Shan Yu first arrived, Qin Siyi and Gui Linghuo despised her for being so childish and petulant. The two didn’t understand why their soft-spoken teacher could accept a spoiled girl like this. Even after a year—even after they realized Shan Yu’s talent for cultivation—they still found the child unruly, but their annoyance towards her had settled somewhat.

Qin Siyi and Shan Yu both left after they had a late lunch with their Shizun and Da-shixiong. Shortly after, Gui Linghuo excused himself as well, to prepare for their trip.

After an entire day of talking to and entertaining unfamiliar people, Gui Yin was finally alone again.

He looked around his large, empty room, and walked over to the divan not too far away. He moved aside the arm table and laid down. His robes fanned out and stray strands of hair that had fallen from his loose ponytail draped over his chest. He readjusted the pillow beneath him and propped his head against his knuckles as he looked around the large room.

Honestly, his one-bedroom was probably larger than the small office he worked in; it was most definitely larger than his own apartment. Everything was decorated to his tastes, down to even the patterning on the blankets and the hanging curtains that rested just above.

With everything so perfectly tailored to his tastes, Gui Yin was more and more inclined to think that this was a dream.

He let out a sigh and clicked his tongue. It would be fine if it were a dream, but it obviously wasn’t.

He frowned as he thought about the people he encountered today. The two marital brothers of Lord Immortal Ninglan were the perfect amount of kind and caring. The children were perceptive and sweet.  They fussed over him even though he had said he was fine a million times. They were the kind of people that helped make up an enviable family.

Gui Yin couldn’t tell just by the ages of the martial brothers, but since teleportation arrays existed, it was safe to assume that this was a cultivation novel where the possibility of ascending to godhood was within reach. That means, for them to be considered “Lord Immortal”, they had to be at least a few hundred to a thousand years old. A brotherhood that could last for a thousand years was unfathomable to a common man like Gui Yin.

In fact, even something as short as a lifetime was not something Gui Yin could comprehend.

This is why Gui Yin felt that he had to go back even more.

This wasn’t his place. These weren’t people who cared about him. He wasn’t Lord Immortal Ninglan. Occupying a person’s body who had no attachment to the world was one thing, but coming in and essentially stealing away that person’s loved ones felt wrong. And what if one day Gui Yin really became comfortable with this type of treatment but he had to return?

Thinking of his small apartment, where he lived by himself, Gui Yin couldn’t help but shudder at the thought.

No. He had to return as soon as possible.

But how?

He laid on his back and stared up at the ceiling.

Well, he worked as an editor for a famous web novel site. Thinking of a way back should be a piece of cake for him.

“Let’s see,” Gui Yin held up his hands. “Dying,” he lowered one finger, “Fulfilling the original body’s wish. Completing the storyline. Changing the storyline. Hacking into the main system and taking it over. Complete missions until I’ve accumulated enough points.”

Those were six options. Yet all six of them seemed to not apply to him at this moment.

First off, the option of dying. That was the easiest to do. This wasn’t his body, after all. If he were just a bit more cold-hearted, then any qualms he had towards that option would disappear. However, Gui Yin didn’t have a guarantee of what would happen after he died. He could return to his own world, but he could also jump to another. And the worst case scenario was that he would actually just die altogether.

The second option, fourth, fifth, and sixth option were also not applicable. The original body wasn’t dead—he completely healed and was only somewhat injured. Not only that, there was no wish written anywhere nor was it in his mind. Changing the storyline? There was no plot to change. Hacking into the main system and completing missions rode off the fact that he was attached to an all-knowing, AI system. But he wasn’t.

So, was it completing the storyline? But what storyline? Normally, in cases like this, the story would either be half written or was simply full of unsatisfying plot holes. But, in reality, this story hadn’t even been drafted yet. So, what storyline could he complete?

In most transmigration stories, they were thrown a copious amount of information to the point their heads were bursting. Instead, Gui Yin woke up with so little information that his head hurt.

The last and remaining option he could think of was one Gui Yin didn’t even want to entertain.

That option was that, possibly, Lord Immortal Ninglan was him in either a past life or even “Gui Yin” of the twenty-first century was actually the one that wasn’t real, and he had just been sent back to his rightful place.

But thinking this way was, one, far too hopeful, and two, far too horrifying.

He would much rather this unfamiliar place be the thing that wasn’t real. Not the life he had been living for the past twenty-eight years.

“It could be a dream,” Gui Yin murmured doubtfully. He closed his eyes and turned to his side. “Right. It could just be a dream.”

Everything feels vivid now because he was currently a part of it. When he wakes up, it will be the same as it always is. He’ll wake up feeling a sense of loss, and then he’ll go about his day again. Maybe he’ll be trapped in another conversation with his coworkers, or maybe he’ll run into his ex-boyfriend again. He still hadn’t decided what he would be doing for his birthday. Not that it mattered—he had a whole week to decide, after all.

The urgency of the matter passed as quickly as lightning would in a summer rain. For now, he’ll just sleep. And then wake up. And then all will be normal again.

Of course, the abnormality of his calmness escaped him, but that was a topic to be discussed another day.