The baby-making system is unreliable

The Realm of Crimson Moon, Half-Moon Lake.

When the huge red moon in the sky rises to its zenith, the whole world is bathed in a magnificent and eerie red glow.

Half Moon Lake, as its name suggests, resembles a silver crescent moon left behind by the gods, lying quietly in the embrace of the Crimson Moon Realm.

The lake water was not the usual turquoise, but a warm, flowing glass-like color, reflecting the crimson moon. In the shimmering light, it sparkled like molten gold and rubies.

On the lakeside, there is a lush and verdant bamboo forest. At this moment, the evening breeze blows, the bamboo shadows sway, and thousands of branches and leaves rustle against each other.

The sound was amplified infinitely in the silent night, sometimes like a lover's whisper, sometimes like an ancient sigh, as if telling the legends of this land that no one could fully understand.

Legend has it that beyond the Six Realms lies a place untouched even by immortals and gods. It is the source of the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, and the final resting place for the spiritual energy of all things.

Centuries of sedimentation and millennia of condensed essence have given birth to a spiritual scroll in this ethereal land. The scroll is nameless, but because of the immortals dwelling within it, it is revered by the world and called "The Immortals in the Painting".

The immortal in the painting is neither god nor demon, nor spirit. He was born of spirit and grew up in spirit; he is the purest embodiment of spiritual power in the world.

He is detached from worldly affairs and untouched by worldly dust, yet he possesses power sufficient to shake the six realms. Everyone knows that he has three supreme treasures, each containing earth-shattering power.

First, the Frost Jade Bead. This bead is completely translucent and contains the essence of millennia-old icy energy. With one in hand, one can freeze rivers and solidify all things; even the most intense demonic fire can be reduced to nothingness in an instant.

Secondly, the Soul-Shattering Wood. This wood is neither metal nor stone, but is formed from the purest power of destruction. It is formless and intangible, yet it can penetrate all defenses and strike directly at the soul, making it the nemesis of all spiritual entities in the world.

Thirdly, the Ink Bamboo Brush. The handle is taken from a thousand-year-old ink bamboo, and the brush tip is imbued with the spiritual essence of the immortals depicted in the painting. This brush can turn stone into gold, and water into rivers; with a single stroke, it can create real life and a world. It is both a brush of creation and a brush of destruction.

However, even such a transcendent fairy in a painting had a deeply unforgettable earthly affair.

Many years ago, he wandered here in a dream and was attracted by a green bamboo on the shore of Half Moon Lake. That green bamboo, having weathered a hundred years of wind and rain, had developed a bit of intelligence. Under the guidance of the fairy in the painting, it was able to transform into a human, becoming a tall, elegant man in green robes.

One is a celestial being banished from a painting, the other is a green bamboo by the lake. They are worlds apart, yet they develop feelings for each other as they spend time together day after day.

Their love was as fleeting as morning dew, yet as fiery as a raging fire.

Legend has it that they conceived a child in this bamboo forest and named him "Sun'er," symbolizing new life and hope.

However, this period of peace was short-lived. A catastrophe suddenly descended upon the six realms, with demonic energy running rampant and countless lives lost.

To save the world, the fairy in the painting and the woman from the green bamboo resolutely chose to sacrifice themselves.

They poured all their spiritual power, along with the power of those three treasures, into the earth, sealing the source of the Demon Abyss.

Heaven and earth were moved, and the crimson moon dimmed.

When everything returned to calm, the fairy in the painting and the man with green bamboo had lost all their spiritual power and their bodies and spirits had scattered, leaving only the painting "Fairy in the Painting" drifting alone on the shore of Half Moon Lake.

Their child, Sun'er, also disappeared without a trace in this catastrophe, as if he had never existed in this world.

However, in this world, there is now a boy carrying a painting on his back.

On his back was the tattered painting, "The Immortal in the Painting." He traveled to famous mountains and rivers, wandered through cities and countryside, and enjoyed collecting the spiritual energy of heaven and earth.

He collected the scattered spirit stones, discarded magic treasures, and even the inner cores of demonic beasts, and sealed them in the scroll.

People say that this young man is handsome, with both the aloofness of a fairy in a painting and the resilience of bamboo. He is exceptionally gifted and possesses extraordinary spiritual power; his every move carries the force of wind and thunder, as if he has inherited all the power of his mysterious parents.

He never spoke of his past, and no one knew his true purpose in collecting spiritual energy. Some speculated that he was searching for his parents; others guessed that he was preparing for the next catastrophe.

Meanwhile, on the distant northern mountain peak, gradually covered by ice and snow, a young boy appeared, completely different from the boy carrying the painting.

He was always laughing and carefree, as if all the troubles in the world had nothing to do with him.

He wore a faded blue cotton jacket, his hair was casually tied up with a bamboo hairpin, and he always had a bright smile on his face. He called himself "Timely".

One day, the boy named "Timely" returned to Cangbei Mountain. Looking at the ruins of his sect, now abandoned and in ruins, the smile in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by a resolute light.

He rolled up his sleeves and transported timber and stone from the foot of the mountain, rebuilding a brand-new Taoist temple brick by brick. He named the temple "Guiyuan Temple" and erected a stone tablet in front of the temple gate, inscribed with the words: "The Taoist tradition will never perish, and its flame will be passed on."

Besides managing the Taoist temple, he would sit cross-legged on the stone steps in front of the temple every day, gazing up at the clouds rolling and unfolding outside Cangbei Mountain, as if waiting for something.

No one knows why this seemingly innocent and carefree young man would return alone to this desolate mountain peak to rebuild a lineage long forgotten by the world. Is his ambition truly merely to bring glory to his sect?

Until one day, a weary young boy carrying a painting, following some inexplicable feeling, also arrived at Cangbei Mountain.

He stood in front of the Guiyuan Temple, looking at the boy in blue cloth who was smiling brightly in the sunlight, a hint of confusion flashing in his eyes.

The man inside the temple seemed to sense something and turned around. When he saw the boy carrying the scroll, the smile on his face froze instantly. The broom in his hand fell to the ground with a "thud," making a crisp sound.

The mountain wind howled, swirling up the fallen leaves on the ground, and also stirring up the intricate, unspeakable destiny between the two boys.

Sun'er frowned slightly and slowly walked into the temple. He could sense a familiar aura emanating from the boy named "Jishi," yet it was also mixed with an indescribable eeriness.

"Who are you?" Sun'er's voice was cold and tinged with wariness.

Jishi quickly regained his jovial demeanor, picked up the broom, dusted himself off, and laughed, "My name is Jishi, and I'm the abbot of Guiyuan Temple. Young brother, are you here to draw lots or to learn some Taoist self-defense techniques?"

His smile was too natural, his tone too familiar, as if they had known each other for a long time. Suspicion arose in Sun'er's heart. He shook his head, hesitated, and lied, "My name is Mo Chen. I'm here to look for some lost items."

"Lost items?" Ji Shi tilted his head, a sly glint in his eyes. "There's nothing of value on this mountain except for snow and rocks. But..."

He paused, his gaze intentionally or unintentionally drifting to the scroll behind the bamboo shoot. "Some things, once lost, are lost. Why bother searching for them? Perhaps they will come back to you on their own."

Sun'er's heart sank. He could feel the scroll behind him tremble slightly as he spoke, as if in response to something.

He instinctively gripped the scroll handle, and a chilling spiritual energy spread from his fingertips.

He walked up to Mo Chen as if he hadn't noticed, and reached out as if to touch the painting. Mo Chen dodged his hand, his eyes becoming even more wary.

"Don't touch it!" Sun'er's voice carried a hint of anger.

His hand froze in mid-air. He withdrew it, touched his nose, and smiled somewhat awkwardly. "Quite the temper. Alright, alright, I won't touch you. But since you're here, you're a guest. It's windy on this mountaintop, why don't you come in and have a cup of hot tea to warm yourself up?"

He turned and walked into the dojo, as if the awkwardness from before had never happened. Sun hesitated for a moment, but ultimately followed him in. He always felt that this boy named Jishi was intricately connected to his lost memories and the legends surrounding his parents.

The dojo was simply furnished, yet spotless. He skillfully and efficiently boiled water and brewed tea, his movements fluid and practiced, as if he had done it a thousand times before. He handed Mo Chen a cup of tea; its aroma wafted gently, carrying a refreshing scent of bamboo leaves.

"Try it, this is tea I brewed with bamboo leaves from the mountain, it's refreshing and good for your eyes," Ji Shi said with a smile, picking up a cup himself and sipping it slowly.

Sun'er took the teacup but didn't drink it. Looking at him, he asked, "Why are you here? Rebuilding this dojo?"

He promptly put down his teacup, gazing out the window with a distant look in his eyes. "Because... this is my home."

He said softly, “Although I don’t remember much about my childhood, whenever I close my eyes, I can hear the wind whistling through the bamboo forest and smell the fragrance of bamboo leaves. I think my parents might live in these mountains, or perhaps they once lived in these mountains.”

"You... what's your name?" Sun'er's voice trembled slightly, as if she were very surprised.

"Jishi, didn't we just talk about it?" Jishi looked at him with some surprise. "What, is there something wrong with your name?"

Sun'er shook her head and said, "I am Sun'er, okay. I'm not playing anymore, Grandpa Turtle, I can't act anymore, your story is just too bad."

"Oh dear, my two little darlings, isn't the story of old friends reuniting fun?!"

The old tortoise stroked its whiskers, standing not far away, playing with the two younger ones, seemingly laughing and teasing them.

"I'm so bored that you're playing this game with me. What kind of nonsense is this?"

Take a look, Sun'er. Old Turtle's diary is filled with such exaggerated writing.

Want to play a little game in your free time? What's up?! Hahaha!