“ZHENG-SHIBO!” Ling Luoying yelled, bursting into the main building of Yaocao Peak.
Disciples dressed in soft yellow and white robes chased after him, yelling at him to calm down. Shi Lianfeng’s head limply lolled to one side, blood splattering onto the floors and glimmering there under the lamplight like deathly droplets of rubies. “Zheng-shibo! You have to help! Shi-shidi is in danger!” Ling Luoying wheezed, stopping outside Zheng Pingxi’s office door.
“What seems to be the matter- oh goodness!” Without another word, Zheng Pingxi took Shi Lianfeng’s battered body out of Ling Luoying’s arms and bustled into the closest ward. “Ci Luoyang, bring me the qi refining pills!” Zheng Pingxi instructed his head disciple.
Ling Luoying was pushed back against the wall with the flurry of disciples immediately rushing around to gather the required pills, herbs and pastes despite Zheng Pingxi only calling his Head Disciple to help. While he waited, Ling Luoying took deep breaths and prayed to whichever god that sent him here that he wouldn’t become the first transmigrator to last a total of three or four hours before he died again.
His vision of the room was blocked by the countless disciples rushing around, their yellow uniforms making them look like grains of sand in a warm orange desert. Noticing him standing against the wall, two disciples politely escorted him to a waiting room and poured him some calming tea, offering to rebandage his wound. Ling Luoying refused with a pleasant smile, but took the salve they offered him. He could treat his own injuries.
‘I’ve become strange ever since entering this world.’ He thought to himself as he absentmindedly rubbed salve on the gaping wound in his hand. Trivial things he’d never been bothered about before in his previous life were suddenly all emerging in this life. For example, being worried about something. He'd been jokingly proclaimed as a genius in his past life because of his ability to do everything so well. Feeling worried about the protagonist and his own life like this was strange. After all, they’d never met before, and the only reason Ling Luoying saved him was to fulfill his own gain.
‘Don’t get attached to the people here. They’re not real, after all. You’re only using them to achieve the perfect life back with Ming Yu and Rong Yao, so don’t focus too much on them. All you need to do is make the story entertaining while keeping your life preserved.’ Ling Luoying instructed himself.
‘These emotions are all fake. They’re all for the sake of the plot.’
-
“Ling-shixiong, you may visit Shi-shidi now.” Ci Luoyang murmured to Ling Luoying, some time around ten or eleven at night.
Ling Luoying had done nothing after he steeled himself, staring blankly into his stone cold tea and he repeated the words he’d told himself over and over in his head like a mantra. Although whatever he was doing right now was good and hopefully making an interesting story, he couldn’t afford to be too comfortable around these fictional people and ideals, otherwise unfortunate things would happen when he returned to his old world. “Many thanks, Ci-shidi.” Ling Luoying said, equally quietly as not to disturb the other patients.
He was led into the room Zheng Pingxi had rushed Shi Lianfeng into, the warm and friendly light from the spirit-searching lanterns a bleak contrast with the gloomy atmosphere around Shi Lianfeng’s patient bed.
If Ling Luoying thought Shi Lianfeng’s injuries were bad when they were in Guiyin Cave, they were somehow even worse now. It was precisely because Shi Lianfeng was wrapped up in so many bandages with so many uncorked bottles of potions and salves next to him that Ling Luoying’s heart sank. The original was really bold to dare to send Shi Lianfeng into the Guiyin Caves. Did the original Ling Luoying really think he was exempt from punishment because he was a Head Disciple!? Ling Luoying sighed, feeling a stabbing sensation in his stomach. The guilt was really getting to him. Thankfully however, he was spared of seeing the actual sight of the wounds, otherwise he might’ve passed out right there and then.
-
“Shi-shidi’s wounds were quite gruesome and hard to treat. My shizun said he might not wake up for a while.” Shi Lianfeng heard the Yaocao Peak’s Head Disciple say to someone.
“When do you think he will wake?” His own peak’s Head Disciple, Ling Luoying asked.
“We don’t know yet. The injuries were severe. Where did he get them?”
“He was in the Guiyin Caves.”
“Guiyin Caves!? Who was he in there with? How many caves in?”
Shi Lianfeng tried to open his eyes, panic mounting when he found that he was unable to do anything to move his body.
“Shi-shidi was training by himself. I found him in the fourth cave.” Ling Luoying said, and did not elaborate any more.
“That’s incredibly dangerous! Only Peak Lords dare to go in there alone! Three caves is basically a death sentence for anyone under Core Formation stage, but you let a Qi Refinement cultivator go in there alone!”
Shi Lianfeng couldn’t do anything but listen to Yaocao Peak’s Head Disciple lecture his Ling-shixiong, unable to alert anyone that he was awake.
“It was foolish of me to not stop him.” He heard Ling Luoying say with regret heavy in his voice.
Shi Lianfeng didn’t understand the reason for the regret in his shixiong’s voice. Ling-shixiong was the one who had been harassing him ever since he joined the Qiuhai Mountain Sect, right? Ling-shixiong was also the one who had promised to make his life hell once they got back to the sect, right? Shi Lianfeng really wanted to sit up and ask why Ling-shixiong was so angry at him all the time, and why he hated him so much.
Before he could mull it over and try to sit up, his shixiong started speaking again. “I will return to Anlue Peak and wait for my shizun to return from his subjugation trip.”
Shi Lianfeng knew the meaning of that sentence. His shixiong was going back to wait for his punishment.
Other people would’ve felt happy that their tormenter was finally getting a punishment, but Shi Lianfeng felt really bad instead. His shixiong must’ve had a good reason for making his life so hard. His aptitude for cultivation was not that good and his spiritual roots had been damaged from his time on the streets. It was a miracle he’d been accepted into the sect at all. His shixiong must have been worried he might get pushed around by unsatisfactory people, and wanted to train him a bit more.
Shi Lianfeng thought back to the day he’d been accepted as a disciple of Anlue Peak. His shizun had read all the rules to the new disciples with a cold voice as some of the disciples with higher rankings stood behind him, looking serious.
Harassment of any party by other parties residing on the Peak will result in five lashes and a month of confinement, no matter the role.
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It was not secret that his Ling-shixiong was the one that sent him into the Guiyin Caves. His shizun was bound to see that. At best, his shixiong would receive the punishment. At worst, he might be stripped of his title as Head Disciple! Shi Lianfeng worried, his mind racing as he thought of excuses he could explain to his shizun to lessen his shixiong’s punishment. “Hold on, Ling-shixiong. Before you go, you should treat those wounds of yours.”
Wounds? His shixiong had gotten injured? But when? Shi Lianfeng was sure that he’d managed to defeat all the demonic entities in the fourth cave before he collapsed. Thinking back to it… Shi Lianfeng did remember hearing a series of loud crashes and shouts in the third cave. Was that commotion Ling-shixiong fighting a demonic entity?
Shi Lianfeng never knew that he was such a good person! Not only did Ling-shixiong personally ensure that he had a training plan that would strengthen his cultivation through his bad aptitude, but he even went as far as to protect him when there was a demonic entity close by! Shi Lianfeng and all the other disciples who had warned him against Ling Luoying had completely and utterly misjudged his Ling-shixiong! His Ling-shixiong wasn’t some vengeful bully who’d do anything for power, but a kind-hearted celestial!
Fuelled by his new understanding of his shixiong’s actions, Shi Lianfeng felt the need to wake up even more. He absolutely could not let his shizun punish Ling-shixiong. Yet, it seemed that no matter how hard he strained against his body or compelled it to move, it simply wouldn’t do anything but lie still on the bed.
Shi Lianfeng knew the rough surroundings of the wards in Yaocao Peak, having been treated more than once. He knew right now that he was lying in a bed with maple wood frames and spotless white bed sheets. He knew there was a cabinet on the right side of the room filled to bursting with different herbs (dried, fresh, seeds, dead and powerdered) and concoctions ranging from instant healing to slow-acting poisons (he didn’t know why they were in the rooms). Yet he’d never heard of or seen a talisman that was supposed to keep people immobilised in their beds.
Even if there was such a talisman in place, surely he should be allowed to open his eyes or speak, right!?
Shi Lianfeng struggled in vain, circling qi in his meridians uselessly. This wasn’t right. Even if it was a high-grade spiritual talisman, the power would’ve been lessened even just a tiny bit thanks to the constant qi he was circling through himself. And a demonic talisman was out of the question, since demons and demonic cultivators couldn’t pass through the Immortal Spirit Shield that encircled the entirety of Yaocao Peak.
“Ling-shixiong, you’ll have to take off your outer robes so I can examine the wound.” Shi Lianfeng heard Ci Luoyang say.
If Shi Lianfeng still had control over his body, he would’ve been frowning gently. Although he understood the reason for it, Shi Lianfeng still took offense that someone else was able to see his shixiong without his outer robes on.
-
“That will be the end of the treatment, Ling-shixiong. I’ll send a disciple over to your quarters in Anlue Peak to deliver the salves and medicinal tea later.”
Shi Lianfeng was forced to sit through an hour of boredom, the only sounds being the quiet hisses of pai from his Ling-shixiong as Ci Luoyang tried to apply a salve as gently as possible. “Many thanks, Ci-shidi. I will return to the Peak to await my shizun now. Please alert me when Shi-shidi awakens.” His Ling-shixiong said.
Shi Lianfeng wanted to reach out and grab the hem of Ling Luoyings robes and tell him to stay, to not leave him behind, immobilised and unable to defend himself. Obviously, however, he couldn’t do that. Powerlessly, he heard his Ling-shixiong exit the room, followed closely after by Ci Luoyang after he rearranged some things in the room.
-
Ling Luoying didn’t remember exactly how long Shi Lianfeng had been asleep in ‘Racing Against Divinity’, but it definitely wasn’t as long as Shi Lianfeng had currently been asleep for. Perhaps it was because it wasn’t the Sect Leader, Mo Pingchu, that discovered him. Or maybe Ling Luoying was overthinking things. “MiSi, what’s up with the protagonist?” He asked.
[Protagonist Shi Lianfeng has entered a special state due to his body, Host.]
“Special state? Like… extra training in his mind or?”
[Host is correct! Due to extreme injuries suffered in the Guiyin Caves and no extra help, Protagonist Shi Lianfeng will stay in that state for approximately three more months.]
“Three months!? We don’t have that long to wait! Our shizun comes back in two months and the main plot's supposed to start in like... a week!”
Ling Luoying paced across his intricately furnished room, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. ‘I need to find a way to break Shi Lianfeng out of whatever condition he’s in, otherwise Anlue Peak’s done for!’ He thought stressfully, straightening out his clothes.
[Are you heading somewhere, Host?]
“Yeah. I gotta go to the library and find a way to get the protagonist out of whatever he’s in.” He said hurriedly, rushing out of his quarters.
Unfortunately for Ling Luoying, it seemed like the book keeper of Anlue Peak’s library - the most extensive library on Qiuhai Mountain Sect - either had no clue what he was talking about or no one had heard of the condition before. The latter seemed plausible, since it was a protagonist of a stallion novel they were talking about after all. It was rarer for a protagonist to not have mystical arts and conditions, skills and buffs.
Undeterred, Ling Luoying buried himself deep in the library, until a sudden plight enlightened him. Everything was written in traditional Chinese, not simplified.
-
Shi Lianfeng had long since gotten used to the consuming darkness around him, swallowing his footsteps and snagging on his robes. Each time he tried to reach out, to find someone or something that could help him escape this place, tendrils of darkness curled around his arms, pulling him back. Though he couldn’t see anything at first, when he focused enough, his body took form. It unsettled him. Being able to feel as though he was locked away somewhere while being inside his own mind (at least he thought it was his mind) wasn’t something he ever wanted to experience again, if he ever got out of this place.
And before he knew it, he’d been struggling for his freedom for one month. It had been an entire month since he regained consciousness in what he assumed to be one of Yaocao Peak’s wards. A month of being unable to do anything to control his physical body other than take slow, maddening breaths in and out. In and out. In and out. Over and over again.
There was no way Shi Lianfeng could contact anyone with his spiritual form, being locked away without a single option for escape. Just as he began to give up all hope of ever getting out, he saw a feeble glimmer of someone’s qi flicker a few times and then fizzle out pitifully, extinguished by the darkness around him. Though it wasn’t much, it was a sign that there was still hope he could get out of whatever prison his mind had been encaptured in. It was a sign that someone cared for him enough to be worried that he wasn’t waking up yet.
Hope rekindled, Shi Lianfeng tried harder than ever to escape from the shadows.
-
If Ling Luoying ever heard Shi Lianfeng’s ridiculous thoughts, forget about smacking Shi Lianfeng with a brick, he’d probably smack himself on the head with that brick. Each day Shi Lianfeng didn’t wake up, aged scrolls and delicate books dating back hundreds of years piled up like mountains in Ling Luoying’s room. Ling Luoying was run ragged trying to figure out what the heck happened to Shi Lianfeng and attempting to increase his knowledge of the previous Ling Luoying’s skillset and sword.
Qingtao was now Ling Luoying’s sword, and seemed to hate him with a burning passion. No matter what he tried to do, it was a guarantee that Qingtao would try to screw it up. If he tried to practise sword formations, Qingtao would jerk around in his hand erratically, sending him stumbling along the private training grove. Once, when Ling Luoying was stupid enough to try and fly, Qingtao whizzed at lightning speeds over the bamboo forest surrounding his quarters (why did Anlue Peak have so much bamboo? The spiritual pandas were all on Qianshou Peak). After re-enacting the French Revolution on bamboo, Ling Luoying finally decided that maybe Qingtao just needed some time to adjust.
Apparently Ling Luoying was wrong. It was like Qingtao knew he wasn’t actually Ling Luoying, and hated him for that. But what could he do? It wasn’t like he wanted to get transmigrated as some scumbag side villain. “Alright! Fine! I’m not gonna go anywhere near you! Just sulk in that corner!” He huffed, shoving Qingtao to one corner of his room after it shredded an important book that could’ve contained the way to get Shi Lianfeng awake again.
Using a basic attachment talisman he’d been forced to learn thanks to his wonderful sword, Ling Luoying reconstructed the book, only to find what he’d been finding in every other book and scroll.
Absolute uselessness.
Ling Luoying slumped across the table, flicking a scrap of paper up and down disinterestedly. “What’s wrong with that stupid protagonist?” He mumbled to himself, eyes following the paper.
A hastily scrawled string of words caught his eye. Scrabbling to catch the paper before it fell into his abandoned tea cup, Ling Luoying’s eyes trailed over the words over and over again. As he read the slip of paper more and more times, a satisfied expression emerged on his face.
‘Finally.’ After who knows how long of suffering and trying his hardest to decode the obscure words (the words were complicated enough, but with ink it was literally illegible), Ling Luoying found a solution. He truly felt like the immortals of heaven had blessed him!
Standing up and slamming his hands on the wooden table, rattling his tea cup and sending loose papers scattering everywhere, Ling Luoying stuffed the slip into his lapel. Casting a glance at Qingtao, he sighed, remembering that he had to bring his sword everywhere he went. Snatching the sword and slipping it unceremoniously into its belt, Ling Luoying hurried out of his quarters, uncaring of the ferocious commotion Qingtao made.
There was no time to dally on trivial matters and temper tantrums. Ling Luoying had a protagonist to save.