A Supernatural Live Stream: The Real Young Master is Trending Again - Chapter 7

“President Gu, Mr. Rocheville has brought someone to see you.”

The man processing documents paused, his expression neutral. “I will see him immediately.”

“Mr. Rocheville has already come up,” the female voice on the phone hesitated before adding, “He has a boy with him.”

Gu Mohan froze momentarily, then hung up the phone. He let out a weary sigh and tossed his files aside, the skyscrapers outside reflecting in his pale grey eyes.

Once, this place had been nothing but an open plain. If he hadn’t believed firmly that that person would return—if he hadn’t felt the need to guard their home outside the Tower—he wasn’t sure he could have endured this long.

His tired gaze fell upon a black gemstone threaded with a red string around his wrist. The exhaustion in his eyes slowly melted away, replaced by a deep, aching longing.

Back when they were suppressing Calamities outside the Tower, everyone had been injured to varying degrees. Some injuries were incurable; some left for other causes; some simply could not withstand the passage of time…

He was the youngest, and the others had tacitly protected him, ensuring he never had to face the darkest filth directly. Thus, ten thousand years later, he was the only one left outside the Tower.

Rocheville, from within the Tower, had told him to prepare, assuring him that he would return. So, Gu Mohan waited and waited, counting the days until time itself lost all meaning. He grew up day by day, growing so tall that even if that person returned, he could no longer be held and carried for fun.

He waited until he had almost forgotten what that person looked like—until even in his dreams, the face became a blur. For all these years, he and Rocheville worked together to deal with the constant riots of the Calamities, preparing for the return.

But he never knew when the wait would end. The dual exhaustion of body and soul grew heavier and deeper. Gu Mohan leaned against the desk, his eyelids drooping as he began to slip into a daze.

Time trickled by. A faint, cold fragrance mixed with a nearly imperceptible hint of medicine drifted into the room along with the air from the opening door.

Gu Mohan stiffened and jerked his head up. The moment his gaze landed on the doorway, his expression went completely blank, as if he were seeing something impossible.

Rocheville let go of Si Ye’s hand and stood quietly to the side. Si Ye walked forward slowly, finding the familiar shadows of the past on the man’s face. He stopped right in front of him.

The sunlight slanted across Si Ye, making his violet-gem pupils glitter. Those beautiful “peach blossom” eyes were filled with an endless warmth and nostalgia.

“Long time no see.”

Gu Mohan stared blankly at him. Dizziness washed over him; he felt as if his blood were flowing backward, leaving him unable to move a muscle. This was the scene he had imagined countless times in dreams, in hallucinations, and in his deepest agony.

At this moment, the world lost its color. He felt as though he couldn’t breathe. Everything went silent. The buzzing in his ears gave way to a flood of buried memories: the first drop of blood he swallowed at birth, the eyes he saw the moment he woke, the embrace he had relied on thousands of times.

Gu Mohan stood up so abruptly that he knocked a water glass off the desk. It shattered on the floor with a loud crash. Tears burst from his eyes.

He didn’t care. He stumbled toward the person in front of him, his hands shaking uncontrollably. He wanted to confirm this was real, but the strength had been drained from his limbs. He could only stare.

Si Ye looked at him, his gaze seemingly traveling past the man’s face and into the distant ages.

“You’ve grown so big.”

Si Ye’s lashes fluttered, his eyes shimmering with moisture. He took a step forward and gently embraced the stunned man. “Long time no see, Xiao Han,” Si Ye sighed.

Gu Mohan remained frozen. A breeze from the half-open window blew through Si Ye’s long, jet-black hair. The scent awakened the blurred features in his memory. The warm touch, the familiar aura, the long hair he used to play with as a child in that embrace…

Gu Mohan began to shake violently. He tilted his head back, gasped for air, and suddenly broke into a devastating sob. He threw his arms around Si Ye, holding him with all his might. The steady, mature persona vanished instantly; he wailed without hesitation.

“Fa… Father God, I…” His throat felt blocked; he couldn’t form words, only broken sobs. All his composure and the ability to remain unphased by a collapsing mountain vanished. He was just a child, clinging to the person in front of him, desperate to ensure this wasn’t a dream.

“Si Ye, Si Ye… Father God,” Gu Mohan choked out the name.

The name of their nurturer, their protector—the one who had fed them with his own flesh and blood. They were born under the Rules and had no biological relation to Si Ye, but they were raised on his blood and sheltered under his wings. Si Ye had bound them together, giving them the concept of a “home.”

The attachment formed by that bond, in human terms, could be described as a child’s love for a mother—but it was more. It was a pure emotional tie that transcended blood and instinct.

Knocked off balance by the weight, Si Ye stumbled back. Rocheville’s expression shifted, and he was about to intervene, but Si Ye managed to lead the man to sit on the sofa behind them.

“It’s me. It’s okay. I’m back.”

“Si Ye, Si Ye…” Gu Mohan felt his soul splitting in two—one half in ecstasy, the other groaning in pain. The surging emotions in his chest nearly tore him apart. For a long-lived race that has tasted happiness, the pain of losing it is a slow death.

“I am here.” Si Ye held the collapsing Gu Mohan, responding to his calls over and over, just as he had done countless times before.

The string that had been pulled taut in Gu Mohan’s heart for tens of thousands of years finally snapped. He buried his head in the youth’s lap, clutching his hand and calling out to him repeatedly.

“Father God, I missed you so much. I was so scared. I thought I would never see you again…”

“I’m here. Don’t be afraid.” Si Ye lowered his gaze and wiped the tears from the man’s eyes. In a daze, he seemed to see that tiny child who used to curl up at home every day, waiting for them to return so he could act spoiled.

“I… I have been waiting for you. Ville… he… we were all waiting outside. We couldn’t get in. Ville told us to wait. We’ve been waiting for you to come home.”

Gu Mohan looked up at his lost-and-found family, his eyes churning with turbulent emotion. His voice was hoarse from uncontrollable crying. “Sister… Sister is gone. And Lia, Lanrui, Xiao Shu, A-Yun…”

With every name he spoke, the man let out an uncontrollable sob. His companions had died one by one; his long life meant he could keep no one. Those shared memories were like blades made of honey—the sweeter the memory, the deeper the cut.

“So many people… so many are gone. Only I am left. I was so scared. Father God, I’m so tired. Sister said… she said as long as you came back, they would return too. But I was so scared. I missed you so much. I’m so tired, so tired.”

“Don’t leave us again, I’m scared.” Gu Mohan’s wails grew louder. The despair and sadness in his words were bone-deep. Tens of thousands of years of pain and longing had left him a wreck. He gasped for air, his eyes flickering with a fractured light.

Si Ye’s lashes drooped, concealing the emotions in his eyes. With trembling hands, he wiped the tears from the man’s face.

“I’m sorry.”

I wasn’t there to watch you grow up.

I didn’t protect you all along.

I let you suffer so much.

Aside from those words, he didn’t know what to say.

The moment he heard “I’m sorry,” Gu Mohan shook his head violently, gripping Si Ye’s wrist tight. “It was because I wasn’t strong enough… I didn’t protect you. It’s my fault. All my fault.”

“If it weren’t for worrying about us, you wouldn’t have entered the Tower. You wouldn’t have been trapped by those people… I… that was never your responsibility.”

The more Gu Mohan spoke, the more agitated he became. Intense fury and helplessness overflowed. “I…” He suddenly recalled something painful, and his spine slumped. He buried his face in Si Ye’s palm.

Kneeling by the sofa, he clutched the youth’s wrist, sobbing until he could barely breathe. The tears were hot and scalding. Si Ye simply whispered to him, tirelessly soothing the broken man.

“I’m back. It’s alright now.” Si Ye’s gaze was gentle as he wiped away the tears. “I swear by the Book of Vows… I will bring everyone back.”

As he spoke, the unbreakable Oath-Bond flowed through golden threads, encircling the two of them like ribbons.

Gu Mohan looked up at Si Ye, who was bathed in sunlight. He remembered a scene he had seen many times ten thousand years ago—a scene he had fantasized about as a child. It was his unfulfilled wish.

He dropped to one knee. Taking Si Ye’s hand in one of his and placing the other over his heart, he made a choked-up vow:

“I swear by my true name, Han, and by my soul to the Supreme Laws. I am willing to be your shield and your sword. I offer you my eternal loyalty. Where you point is where my blade strikes.”

“You are my eternal home, the father of my soul. I will love you, protect you, and be loyal to your every will until my soul is utterly annihilated.”

A reverent kiss of the vow fell upon the back of the youth’s white hand, accompanied by a scalding teardrop.