Chapter Three: Young Master Wang Sheng

As a mosquito, Xiao Wenzi's vision was naturally nowhere near as sharp as a human's, and he was not yet adept at using the infrared senses unique to his kind. If he hadn't known that spiders were skillful hunters of mosquitoes and moths, he might have overlooked them entirely. He thanked his luck in silence, vowing not to fly so carelessly again. He carefully avoided the webs, found a safe spot, and rested until dusk before slowly making his way to the Wang family's hall where the banquet was being held.

“Master Wang, congratulations on your son Wang Sheng joining the Immortal Sect. Our Woniu Village is soon to have a…”
“Thank you, thank you, friends. Raise your glasses—tonight, we shall not leave sober!”

The Wang family’s spacious main hall glowed with lantern light inside and out. Crowds mingled among tables laden with fragrant dishes, as congratulations and pleasantries filled the air. Naturally, in a world without mosquito coils, insecticides, or glass windows, mosquitoes lurked in the shadows, waiting for their chance.

Smack!

Xiao Wenzi had only just flown into the hall when he heard the crisp sound of a hand slapping flesh, followed by a muttered curse: “Damn mosquito, trying to suck my blood!”

Having adapted somewhat to his new senses, Xiao Wenzi was now able to extend his infrared perception. He saw that the mosquito on the back of the middle-aged man's neck had perished, but felt not the slightest sorrow—only scornful disdain. He never regarded these mosquitoes as his kin; all his thoughts were bent on cultivating himself into human form, regaining his past life’s shape.

Another slap soon sounded from a corner, accompanied by a satisfied curse—yet another mosquito had met its end. Xiao Wenzi shook his head in resignation. Such fools! Once most people were drunk, they could have their fill of blood—why the rush now? What he didn't realize was that some mother mosquitoes, desperate to lay eggs, could not resist the lure of human blood, no matter the risk.

While grumbling inwardly, Xiao Wenzi carefully avoided webs and other traps, quietly flying up to a ceiling beam to observe the crowd below. Soon, he spotted the chubby-cheeked boy and the well-dressed middle-aged man beside him, but neither Erya nor Tiger showed up.

“That boy must be Wang Sheng. Quite a handsome youth—young masters from wealthy families always have such smooth, delicate skin. If I get the chance, I must take a few extra sips of his blood.”

As he surveyed the scene, Xiao Wenzi’s gaze quickly settled on the elder at the head of the table. The portly gentleman in fine robes was surely Master Wang, and beside him sat a white-robed youth of about fifteen or sixteen. Listening to their conversation, Xiao Wenzi learned that the uniquely-featured, handsome young man was indeed Wang Sheng, the guest of honor.

Perhaps buoyed by the occasion, the white-robed youth raised his cup again and again, circulating to exchange toasts with the guests. He was the first to succumb to his drink, needing two maids to help him out of the hall toward the inner chambers.

This was the perfect opportunity. Wang Sheng’s blood, fresh and tender, would be far superior to that of the rough villagers. Wasting no time, Xiao Wenzi slipped from the beam and followed quietly behind.

Inside the brightly lit banquet hall, it was too risky to act. But once they left, though lanterns hung along the corridor, the light was much dimmer. Seizing his moment, Xiao Wenzi darted toward Wang Sheng.

Luck—or misfortune—favored him: the youth was dead drunk, his head resting weakly against a maid’s fragrant shoulder, his smooth neck and cheek exposed.

With a buzz, Xiao Wenzi landed on Wang Sheng’s neck and drove his short proboscis to bite—but it failed to pierce the skin. Only then did he recall that male mosquitoes’ mouthparts were degenerate, unlike the females, and could not easily draw blood.

Undeterred, for the sake of collecting blood to exchange for system points and thereby obtain the Blood Spirit Manual, he adjusted his angle and stabbed again.

This time, his proboscis sank in to the base, and a rich, delicious taste of blood flooded his senses. He drank greedily. Though his belly showed no change, on the system interface, a droplet icon turned blood red. As he continued, a second, then a third droplet filled with color…

Just as the fifth droplet lit up, Wang Sheng’s drunken neck twisted, and his hands fumbled to scratch—though, supported by the maids, he couldn’t quite reach.

“What’s wrong, young master?” one of the maids asked, noticing his discomfort.

“There’s… there’s a mosquito.”

As the young man turned his neck, Xiao Wenzi took the chance to sip a few more mouthfuls, and as Wang Sheng mumbled and scratched at his left side, he withdrew his proboscis and flew off.

“A mosquito? But I didn’t hear any buzzing… Oh! Young master really was bitten—the bump is huge!”

The maid peered in the lantern light and gasped in alarm at the sight: on Wang Sheng’s neck was a bump the size of a fingernail, with a pinprick of blood at its center.

“Hush—enough fuss! I am a disciple of the Azure Mountain Sect, soon to become an immortal cultivator. Just see me back to my room and keep quiet about this!”

Having been the center of attention all evening, Wang Sheng, though still tipsy, feared that his heroic image might be tarnished. At the girl’s exclamation, he scolded her at once.

“Yes, young master.” The two maids dared not say more, and helped him forward.

Face above all else—this fellow has all the makings of those self-righteous hypocrites. So be it; I’ll take it as doing heaven’s work, thought Xiao Wenzi with contempt, lurking in the shadows as he followed the trio. He did not act again, for he had already collected nine drops of blood and was busy trying to convert them into system points.

The maids helped Wang Sheng through several archways until a finely crafted pavilion appeared ahead. They took him into a large, luxurious room hung with curtains and covered in exquisite bedding. After removing his outer robe and lowering the mosquito net, securing the edges with bamboo clips, they extinguished the red candles and withdrew.

Neither maid noticed the nondescript little mosquito that had settled atop the young master’s hair as they entered. The moment he lay down, Xiao Wenzi slipped away to hide in the shadows, out of reach of the candlelight.

There was no need to hurry; it was better to wait until Wang Sheng was truly asleep before feeding again. Otherwise, if he were disturbed and ordered his servants to fetch some mosquito-repelling herbs or incense, things could become troublesome indeed.