On regular days, Gui Yin wouldn’t have minded this type of harmless attention, but today, he felt a little queasy being at the center of it all.

Gui Yin shoved down this groggy feeling and went to get his breakfast. Once he was served, he found the most isolated corner he could and sat down. Unfortunately, the students who had yet to find their own seats began to gravitate towards Gui Yin, their gazes trained on him curiously.

Just when Gui Yin was debating whether he should leave or not, Ye Liuxing’s excited voice disrupted the uncomfortable atmosphere.

Gui Yin looked up. For the first time ever, he was glad to see this idiotic shidi of his. He took a breath to compose himself and spoke a soft greeting in return: “Ye-shidi.”

By Ye Liuxing’s side was Jiu Jingyi. Gui Yin gave a small nod to his shimei as Ye Liuxing inserted himself into Gui Yin’s line of vision and sat down across from him.

 “Are you feeling better today? Your head doesn’t hurt?”

The unsettling feeling in Gui Yin’s chest vanished in a split second. He returned Ye Liuxing’s excitement with a more sincere smile. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. I suppose I got lucky today.”

“That’s good! We wouldn’t want to ruin your bir—oof!”

Gui Yin’s eyes drifted down at the heel that was mercilessly plunged into Ye Liuxing’s foot. He looked up again to meet Jiu Jingyi’s innocently smiling gaze.

“The skies are clear today and the weather is quite good. Shixiong, if you’re feeling better, would you like to go to town with me and Ye-shidi?”

“Into town?” Gui Yin looked at them quizzically. He frowned for a moment. “I think I still have some memorials to look over.”

“What memorials? Weren’t we allotted your portion of work anyway?” Ye Liuxing said as he sat down in front of Gui Yin. He looked at the other man excitedly. “There’s an acting trope that came into town today. I wanted to take Jiu-shijie to go see it. You can come with us!”

“An acting trope…”

“Yes! They’ve gotten quite famous! Their plays are exaggerated version of real life stories,” Ye Liuxing laughed. “I’ve had a few friends who went to watch their plays and ended up feeling embarrassed because of it.”

“And you want to go because you also want to feel embarrassed?” Gui Yin asked.

“Ah, well, maybe not me. But I am pretty curious. Besides, I hear the shows they put on are always high quality,” Ye Liuxing said. He looked at Gui Yin expectantly. “What do you say? Do you want to come?”

“Well….”

Jiu Jingyi nudged Ye Liuxing to encourage him to try harder.

“Besides,” Ye Liuxing continued, “it isn’t good for a recovering patient to receive so much stress. If you want your memories to recover faster, taking a break to walk around also helps.”

Gui Yin glanced at Ye Liuxing. This kid didn’t know what he was talking about at all. Just the day before, he felt that he was beginning to recover some memories and the following night, he was sent into dream that made him feel queasy and unsettled when he woke up. At this time, he really didn’t want to remember anything else, okay? If he had another dream, he feared that it would lead to him waking up in his dingy apartment in the 21^st century.

But could he say all this? If he said all this, they would definitely think he had gone crazy. Instead, after a moment of well-placed hesitation, Gui Yin nodded.

“Alright. I’ll go. But the disciples—”

“Linghuo’s big enough. He can take care of his shimei. You don’t have to worry about them. Besides, Sect Master-shixiong will still be in the sect,” Jiu Jingyi said.

“Linghuo is only thirteen,” Gui Yin frowned.

“Shixiong, when you were thirteen, you were already taking care of all your martial siblings,” Ye Liuxing said. “And you had many more than Linghuo. Just two is fine. And isn’t Siyi there? So, really, they only have to look after Shan Yu.”

Gui Yin was unimpressed by Ye Liuxing’s suggestion. “I’ll ask Sect Master-shixiong to look after them.”

Jiu Jingyi nodded. “Then, we’ll meet at the front of the sect at noon?”

Gui Yin nodded in agreement.

After breakfast, he went to find Lin Cangyuan.

Ye Liuxing’s words echoed in his mind.

Whether it was the twenty-first century or this xianxia world, from the moment he could reach the sink, Gui Yin had had to take care of his many siblings. Thirteen was far older than when Gui Yin started, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t too young. Thirteen was the age where you were beginning to develop as a person. You start to question the beliefs of adults and friends around you. You learn more about yourself, like your interests, likes, and dislikes. Thirteen was when you were beginning to make your own decisions.

Rather than teaching Gui Linghuo how to be mature, Gui Yin would much rather him enjoy his last few years of freedom, before any responsibilities settled on his shoulders. Only that way can he grow at his own pace. And not just him—Gui Yin hoped the same for Shan Yu and Qin Siyi as well.

“Look after your disciples?” Lin Cangyuan glanced at Gui Yin. “Alright. But you know Linghuo—”

“I don’t want to give him that sort of responsibility,” Gui Yin said. “Siyi as well. Neither of them should learn to feel obligated to put others before themselves.”

Lin Cangyuan slowly set down his documents. “Did you remember something?”

Gui Yin looked at Lin Cangyuan quizzically. “I just want to make sure my disciples have a fulfilling childhood. What makes you think I remembered something?”

“No, no. I thought you remembered how your shizun treated you, so I just assumed,” Lin Cangyuan’s voice trailed off. He shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll make sure your disciples are fine until you get back. I’m sure they’ll behave with Xi’er and Die’an watching them.”

Gui Yin smiled gratefully. He thanked Lin Cangyuan and swiftly left the study.

When he returned with the three children, he went directly to find Lin Cangyuan’s direct disciples, Wu Ze’xi (武泽希) and Pan Die’an (潘蝶安)

“Don’t worry, Shishu, we’ll take good care of these kids until you get back,” Wu Ze’xi happily pinched Shan Yu’s cheek.

Shan Yu brushed Wu Ze’xi’s hand away irritably before she turned and looked at Gui Yin with a pout. “Shizun…”

“I’ll be back in a little bit,” Gui Yin reassured her with a light pat on the head.

“Shizun.”

Gui Yin looked over to Gui Linghuo. “What’s wrong?”

Gui Linghuo turned the words in his mouth for a moment before shaking his head. “It’s nothing.”

Gui Yin smiled. He looked between the three children. “Listen to your elder martial siblings while I’m gone.”

“Yes, Shizun,” the three children harmonized.

Gui Yin looked at the three kids and was suddenly struck by a sense of sadness. This was the first time he would be leaving the kids alone (with babysitters). Would they be able to adjust? Would they miss him?

In all honesty, Gui Yin knew he was thinking about this entire situation too intricately, but he finally understood why parents were reluctant to leave their children at daycare. There were too many things that could go wrong if he left!

Noticing Gui Yin’s internal struggle, Pan Die’an lightly cleared her throat. “Shishu, we’ll be fine. Besides, it’s just a few hours.”

Gui Yin looked at the kids uncertainly. It would have been fine if they remained silent, but they were nodding along to what Pan Die’an was saying instead. He was shot through the heart.

How were these kids…so willing to let go? Was it because they didn’t actually enjoy his presence? Of course, what kid would want an adult to hang around them all the time? They required freedom! But…just…could they at least pretend to be unwilling?

Gui Yin shook himself. What on earth was he moping for? Before he could sulk any longer, he quickly extricated himself from the scene.

The three little disciples watched as their shizun walked away from them. A gloomy cloud floated over their heads. Pan Die’an and Wu Ze’xi glanced at each other.

An arm landed heavily onto Gui Linghuo’s head. The bit of extra weight pushed him down. “What’s wrong with your face? Are you disappointed your shizun didn’t entrust you with your shimei?”

“Ze’xi,” Die’an frowned at the man. “Don’t bully the child.”

“I’m just saying,” Wu Ze’xi shrugged as he removed his arm from Gui Linghuo’s head. “This little bitter melon’s face looks even more sour than usual. I just wanted to comfort him.”

“That’s not how you comfort people,” Pan Die’an chided. She glanced at Gui Linghuo. “Ling-shidi, your Shizun just didn’t want to put too much pressure on you, that’s all. It isn’t because he doesn’t trust you.”

Qin Siyi nodded. “That’s right, Da-shixiong. Shizun trusts you the most out of all three of us.”

“I thought he trusted Shijie the most,” Shan Yu mumbled.

Gui Linghuo ignored Shan Yu and shook his head. “I’m fine. I’m just worried about all the work we have to do on decorating Shuangye Peak.”

“Don’t worry your little head,” Wu Ze’xi said, wantonly patting Gui Linghuo’s head. “You have your two elder martial siblings beside you! All the tall places you can’t reach, we’ll reach for you!”

Although Pan Die’an loved Wu Ze’xi, there were times when she wanted to shove a shoe into his mouth. She let out a sharp sigh and left Wu Ze’xi silent under a piercing glare. Once he had shut up, she turned to Gui Linghuo. “What he means is we’ll do what we can to help. You can rely on us!”