After being teleported, a blanket of darkness ensued.

Bai Fanlu vaguely felt that this sensation seemed somewhat familiar.

Ding-ding: “This is a voice-over instance. Reminder: The host doesn’t need to take any actions. Follow the red-character dialogue in the lower right corner and combine it with the scene annotations for voice-over. As long as it’s done without mistakes, you can clear the instance.”

Ding-ding: “If any errors occur, the scene will restart, with unlimited retries, but the instance time will extend. Please pay attention, host.”

A voice-over instance? Sounds interesting, kind of like a language exam. Bai Fanlu took a deep breath to adjust his mindset; he needed to pass in one go and get the legendary divine weapon as quickly as possible.

As he was thinking this, a small box appeared in the lower right of his vision, with a few silver characters floating on it.

Prologue · Dark Origin.

The characters disappeared in a flash of light, giving the illusion of watching an epic movie.

Suddenly, a narration echoed, like a movie voice-over, with subtitles of the plot simultaneously appearing below.

“Heaven and earth first opened, dividing the realms of gods and humans. The clear air rose, and the murky air sank. The nameless creator god hid in the dark origin, defining light and darkness with his being. From then on, he withdrew from the world, isolated for tens of thousands of years, until…”

In a stifling space filled with oppressive silence, a boundless darkness stretched out as if time itself had stopped.

The system had said no actions were required, but Bai Fanlu felt as though his body was instinctively moving forward. There was no ground beneath him, yet he didn’t fall, as if walking on air.

Gradually, a blurry white silhouette appeared at the edge of his vision.

That was where he seemed to be heading. Although it didn’t seem far, he had no idea how long he walked before he got slightly closer to the white silhouette, which still remained unclear, but he could tell it was vaguely human-shaped.

Suddenly, the white figure moved slightly and threw something out, causing a burst of radiant golden light.

Once his eyes adjusted to the brightness, Bai Fanlu saw clearly that it was an ancient mirror—Not Dust.

“It’s finally complete… Humans are dust, yet not dust.”

Bai Fanlu heard a deep and clear voice, easily recognizable, carrying a unique sense of age but pleasant to the ear. Hearing this, Bai Fanlu’s heart jolted.

So this white figure might be… the Creator God?

Instinctively feeling awe, Bai Fanlu really wanted to see what the god, born at the beginning of time, actually looked like.

But his body remained immobile, and all he saw was the indistinct white figure.

The Creator God stood opposite the ancient mirror. After a long silence, Bai Fanlu heard him chuckle softly.

“It seems so… I can’t quite remember…”

The next moment, Bai Fanlu felt an invisible force pulling him toward Not Dust, and in the blink of an eye, he found himself standing before the white figure.

“From now on, you will be the reflection I have created.”

The Creator God murmured, “What name should I give you?”

It was only then that Bai Fanlu realized he was standing behind a mirror-like surface, somewhat frosted and translucent.

So, I’m inside ‘Not Dust’? Have I become the reflection the Creator God created? Doesn’t that make me…

“Let’s call you Jiu Li. For the people of the nine provinces, the common folk, does that sound good?”

“…”

“Hmm?” The Creator God added, “Oh, right, you don’t have awareness yet… How about this, I’ll teach you some basic language and principles.”

With that, it seemed the Creator God moved slightly, and Bai Fanlu felt a point of white light float toward him, warming his forehead.

“You don’t need any other skills. Just learn to draw.”

The Creator God said slowly, “Draw some pictures for me—scenes, people, things, anything. It’s been too long since I’ve seen anything, and I wonder what this world looks like now…”

Bai Fanlu now understood that the Creator God created Mo Jiu Li and bestowed upon him extraordinary artistic talent for this purpose.

No wonder when he dreamt of Mo Jiu Li in the chessboard realm, he had told Qi Zhao that all his paintings were given away. It turned out they were given to the Creator God.

But why didn’t the Creator God venture out himself? Why did he rely on this mirror reflection? What is in this dark space that keeps him here, seemingly for an eternity?

“You’ll need an identity when you go out.”

“My old temple hasn’t had any visitors in a long time. Yesterday, a woman came. She was separated from her child at a young age, with no other options left, she came to me.”

“I calculated for her, and her child has long passed from this world. How about you take his place? That way, you can fulfill one of her wishes.”

“If she finds you, tell her that the god who fulfilled her wish gave you the name ‘Jiu Li.’”

With a wave of the Creator God’s hand, Bai Fanlu’s vision suddenly brightened, and the darkness disappeared.

Looking around, he found himself surrounded by wild grass, with a dilapidated temple behind him. Not far away, he heard voices, and soon, a richly dressed woman hurried toward him with several attendants.

What followed was a long period of life in the palace. Bai Fanlu became the “Ninth Prince,” the Mo Jiu Li who had appeared in his dream.

The scenes moved quickly before his eyes, like flipping through the pages of a book.

Eventually, the passage of time slowed, and the scene turned to green mountains, clear waters, and flourishing flowers and trees.

In the distance, he saw willow trees shrouded in mist and painted bridges, with pavilions and water terraces scattered throughout.

Once again, bright characters appeared in the lower right corner of his vision.

Act One · First Meeting.

Bai Fanlu still remembered this dream.

The man before him was looking lasciviously at him, slapping a knife on the table. Up close, he looked more intimidating than in the dream.

But Bai Fanlu couldn’t move, so he just watched, waiting for someone to rescue him.

And sure enough, just as he thought of Qi Zhao…

Before he could finish the thought, the rough-looking man was sent flying, and Bai Fanlu was picked up, landing on a boat in the blink of an eye.

“Are you alright?”

That voice! Bai Fanlu’s heart raced. Wasn’t this the voice of his beloved emperor from his favorite drama?

He couldn’t control his body, but the man bent down to look at him.

He saw a face that was rugged yet handsome, with a bright, cocky smile that revealed a natural arrogance. He was indeed the legendary Emperor Zhaohe.

Like Mo Jiu Li, Qi Zhao’s reincarnation, Yun Zhan, looked nothing like him, which explained why Xun Huang hadn’t recognized him as his nemesis when he saw Yun Zhan.

Bai Fanlu glanced at the lower right corner—there were no red dialogue lines, so it seemed he didn’t need to speak.

The smile on Qi Zhao’s face turned to surprise, “You’re actually a man?”

Bright red text appeared at the bottom of his vision, with a note about tone in parentheses.

Bai Fanlu smiled lightly, “What did you think I was? Thank you for saving me, but I must leave.”

Though his heart was slightly flustered, it seemed manageable. Luckily, he’d acted in plays before, so it wasn’t a total shot in the dark.

He felt his body leap out of the cabin and onto the shore in a few swift movements.

“Hey! What’s your name?” Qi Zhao called from behind.

“In the world, I am Mo Jiu Li. If we are fated, we will meet again.” The second line came more naturally.

Bai Fanlu had always wanted to try voice acting in radio dramas but lacked the confidence, since it wasn’t something one could do alone. But now, with this system, all the other characters were NPCs, so there was no pressure.

He hadn’t expected this final instance to fulfill his wish, and with his favorite emperor character as a co-star.

However, the giddy excitement he had expected was surprisingly mild. That “beloved character” was now just a pleasant voice to him, as his heart had already been filled with another person.

Since it was the last instance, Bai Fanlu decided to take it as a learning experience and give it his all! He thought, silently cheering himself on.

The scene blurred before his eyes, completing some kind of transition.

A long, long story, distilled into just a few lines—it was the encounter.

And after the encounter, naturally, came acquaintance.

Bai Fanlu followed Mo Jiu Li as he wandered the human world. His character clearly spoke little, so Bai Fanlu remained constantly alert for any lines, fearing he’d miss one.

As they walked, they paused in front of a storytelling booth.

The story of a scholar and a beautiful woman had just started when someone interrupted from nearby. “You like listening to this?”

It was Qi Zhao, with a familiar tone, showing no formality as if they hadn’t just met.

No lines appeared—clearly, silence was required at this moment.

Bai Fanlu ignored him and waited until the storyteller finished and left, by which time Qi Zhao had disappeared.

Returning to his residence, Mo Jiu Li, as usual, prepared his brush, ink, and paper to record the bustling scenes of the day.

After finishing the first painting, the breeze suddenly stirred, and someone lounged casually in a vine chair beside him, exuding an air of carefree elegance. A glance revealed the charming and handsome Qi Zhao, of course.

Once again, Bai Fanlu had no lines.

He continued to ignore him, waiting for Mo Jiu Li to finish one painting after another.

Qi Zhao sipped tea nearby, completely treating the place as his own, despite it being someone else’s home.

Each time Mo Jiu Li finished a painting, he glanced over to see if Qi Zhao had left.

But Qi Zhao showed no signs of leaving, stretching out a long leg, resting it on his knee, and propping his hand against his cheek with a smirk on his lips, exuding a rakish charm.

Finally, Bai Fanlu got some dialogue. “Do you need something?”

“Didn’t you say ‘we’d meet again if fated’?”

“…”

Still no lines.

Bai Fanlu suddenly wondered, could it be that the Creator God only taught Mo Jiu Li basic social skills, and Qi Zhao’s unconventional behavior left him unable to respond, leading to these awkward interactions?

But how did Mo Jiu Li eventually transform into the witty and slightly cunning character he had seen in his dream, always able to leave Qi Zhao exasperated?

“I’ve been following you for a few days now, and I think I’ve figured it out.”

Qi Zhao patted his clothes, walked over to the desk, and picked up Mo Jiu Li’s painting to inspect it. “You want to record everything you see?”

Shaking his head, Qi Zhao continued, “But you’re painting too simply. There are better, more interesting places worth painting. Want to see them?”

Bai Fanlu read the line: “Where?”

Qi Zhao laughed heartily, “The Southern Seas, Northern Desert, Western Mountains, and Eastern Ocean—places well worth seeing. Interested?”

The next line required him to reply after some thought, “…Okay.”

Bai Fanlu thought, at this point, Mo Jiu Li still seemed like a block of wood, agreeing to travel with a stranger who had just trespassed into his home late at night after only three meetings?

Even Qi Zhao, as he was leaving, asked, “Aren’t you afraid that I suddenly appeared?”

Bai Fanlu calmly responded, “No.”

It made sense that Mo Jiu Li wasn’t afraid. He had met the Creator God, knew his own origins and mission, and thus had no fear of divine or mystical matters.

The scene switched again, with “Act One · First Meeting, Complete” appearing in the lower right corner.

Next came: “Act Two · Into the Heart.”

Narration: Led by Qi Zhao, Mo Jiu Li traveled to the ends of the earth, capturing every sight in his paintings, whether natural landscapes or cultural scenes.

One day, after returning to the palace, Mo Jiu Li used the mirror array to transmit his paintings to the Creator God.

“Recently, your paintings always feature this person. Who is he?” the Creator God asked.

Bai Fanlu answered with his line, “He said his name is Qi Zhao.”

“What’s his identity?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”

The Creator God lifted the paintings, spreading them in a circle around him, as if scrutinizing the images of mountains, rivers, and the figure of Qi Zhao.

“No wonder your recent works have grown more varied. It’s because of him. Interesting.”

Coming out of the mirror array, Bai Fanlu pondered the Creator God’s last words. It seemed like he was genuinely interested in Qi Zhao.

In comparison, Mo Jiu Li was still as wooden as ever, to the point where Qi Zhao couldn’t help but say, “It’s been a year now, and you’ve spoken less than ten sentences to me, with three of them being used the most.”

“Which three?”

Thanks to his character’s few lines and bland tone, Bai Fanlu was already adept at delivering them smoothly.

Qi Zhao counted, “Okay, what, and don’t know.”

Bai Fanlu glanced at the prompt and dutifully said, “Oh.”

Qi Zhao burst into laughter, “I almost forgot. There’s that word, too.”

After this scene, they were back before the Creator God.

“He said you don’t talk much?” The Creator God chuckled, “That’s because you don’t have true thoughts yet.”

He paused thoughtfully. “How about this—I’ll share a bit of my divine consciousness with you. That way, you can slowly develop sentience.”

A golden light shimmered in the Creator God’s hand. Bai Fanlu already had sentience, so he didn’t feel any significant change.

But in that moment, he realized—Mo Jiu Li’s sentience had originated from the Creator God. Did that mean Mo Jiu Li was essentially a fragment of the Creator God?

Much like how Yun Zhan had used Not Dust to create Xiao Liu. Without sentience, it was just a puppet; but with sentience, it became another version of himself, which would eventually face various taboos.

However, since it was the Creator God, surely he didn’t have to worry about such taboos, right?

At that moment, Bai Fanlu heard the Creator God say, “But by doing this… Let me think for a moment.”

After a while, the golden light was still sent over.

“Half of a consciousness won’t affect the stability here. I’ll visit Qi Zhao myself. Be quick about it.”

So, the Creator God was curious about Qi Zhao and wanted to see him personally? Bai Fanlu understood a bit more now.

Narration: After gaining sentience, at first, Mo Jiu Li still interacted with Qi Zhao as before—brief responses or no responses at all. But gradually, Mo Jiu Li began to say things beyond the basics, much to Qi Zhao’s delight.

Qi Zhao: “I’ve noticed you’ve become sharper lately, not as dull as before.”

Bai Fanlu thought to himself, That’s because the Creator God has taken over inside.

Nevertheless, he delivered his line: “I’ve been secluded in the palace, unfamiliar with the world. But after traveling with you these days, I suppose I’ve made some progress.”

This line required a slower delivery to show unfamiliarity.

Qi Zhao laughed, “I told you I’m amazing. Even if you were a block of wood, I’d make you bloom.”

What kind of silly metaphor is that? Bai Fanlu silently complained. “Yes, you’re amazing.”

Qi Zhao couldn’t stop laughing, “I almost forgot. You’ve got that tone down perfectly. Keep it up, and maybe tomorrow you’ll learn how to curse someone out.”

Well, Bai Fanlu thought, Mo Jiu Li probably wouldn’t want to learn how to curse people out.

They continued walking, passing street performers and vendors, until they came across a sugar figure sculptor.

A prompt appeared, and this time Mo Jiu Li was supposed to ask a question of his own.

“What is that?”

Qi Zhao walked over to him, “This is a rare sight—you’re asking about something for the first time.”

“That’s called a sugar figure. I offered you one before, but you weren’t interested. Now that you’re curious, I’ll let bygones be bygones and offer it to you again. So, will you eat it or not?”

Bai Fanlu checked the script, which called for him to reply in a slightly awkward yet expectant tone: “Eat…”

Qi Zhao laughed heartily, “No problem!”

A sugar figure appeared in his hand, made from crystal-clear sugar strands shaped like a plump little pig.

Mo Jiu Li lowered his head and bit into it.

Bai Fanlu could almost taste the sweetness, which wasn’t unpleasant.

Just then, Qi Zhao suddenly grabbed his hand and said urgently, “That’s not how you eat a sugar figure. You’ve ruined its cuteness by biting off its head. You have to lick it, savor it slowly, like this.”

He demonstrated with his own sugar figure.

Bai Fanlu didn’t need anyone to teach him how to eat, but Mo Jiu Li did. Following Qi Zhao’s example, he tried licking the sugar figure.

Right then, a line of dialogue appeared in the lower right corner: “What’s wrong? Did I do it wrong?”

Qi Zhao was watching him closely, his eyes suddenly growing deeper, revealing an emotion that Bai Fanlu had often seen in Yun Zhan’s gaze. He couldn’t possibly fail to recognize it.

His heart skipped a beat—was this the moment Qi Zhao started falling for Mo Jiu Li?

There were no more lines, but a long paragraph of narrative appeared.

Qi Zhao watched Mo Jiu Li extend his tongue, lightly licking the shiny sugar figure, and his breath caught.

He had lived for many years and seen countless beauties, both celestial and mortal, but this was the first time his heart raced like a young boy experiencing his first crush.

Even though he had known Mo Jiu Li for over a year, until now, he had thought of him only as a skilled painter and a taciturn companion for his travels. But today, Mo Jiu Li suddenly came to life, becoming irresistibly appealing inside and out.

Qi Zhao was no stranger to the ways of the mortal world. He knew exactly what this feeling meant.

Bai Fanlu, upon reading this, confirmed his earlier suspicion—Qi Zhao had indeed developed feelings for Mo Jiu Li.

The next line of dialogue was, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Qi Zhao smiled, “Because… you look good.”

Act Two · Into the Heart, Complete.