Heng Xiaowen glanced at Lu Xiuying out of the corner of his eye. Her tender expression had disappeared. She almost looked bored.

After Madame Su disappeared down the road, Song Jiayi let out a relieved sigh and gave them a weary smile. “You all did well,” she said, then cocked her head. “Where’s Xiao-Hong?”

They looked around, finally spotting him still crouched on the roof. A small silhouette against the night sky.

“Xiao-Hong!” Song Jiayi called. “You can come down now!”

He stayed still for another moment, before quietly climbing down the roof and dropping down onto the ground.

When he joined the group, Heng Xiaowen saw that his eyes had taken on a look that was somehow both distant and intense.

“Sorry,” he said, voice tight. “I was supposed to— It’s just that she came out of nowhere and everything happened so fast—-”

“Ah,” Song Jiayi knelt down, putting a hand on his shoulder. “This is the first time something like this has happened on a night hunt you’ve been on, right? Well except for—” Song Jiayi glanced at Heng Xiaowen but didn’t dwell on it. “Ling Hong, Madame Jin sought her own death. We did what we could to prevent it, but this was out of your control.”

Ling Hong didn’t look convinced. He was still holding his bow, twisting it in his hands. “My job was to shoot the horse before things got out of control.”

“En,” she agreed. “But there will always be situations like this on night hunts. You can make all the right choices and people will still die.” She smiled brightly. “It feels terrible, right?”

Ling Hong nodded.

“It’s never going to stop being terrible, but the first few times are usually especially hard,” she said. “But it wasn’t your fault what happened, okay?”

Ling Hong shifted his weight nervously but finally nodded. “Okay.”

“Good!” Song Jiayi gave his shoulder a squeeze and stood up. “Let’s go help your Shishu with the horse.”

While they dealt with Madame Su and reassured Ling Hong, Qiu Jucheng had found a cloth to cover up Madam Jin’s body. He had also pulled a few strips of yellow paper from the qiankun pouch and written some complicated characters on them in red ink.

He passed them to Song Jiayi. “They’re drawn correctly?”

Song Jiayi squinted at them. “Looks like it. You’ve always been better with talismans than me anyway.” She passed them back to him.

Qiu Jucheng nodded and then held them out for the disciples to see. “This talisman suppresses spiritual energy, it will need to be replaced three times a day.” He pointed to the next one. “This talisman suppresses aggression and induces drowsiness. It only needs to be replaced once a day, but it won’t be effective unless the horse’s spiritual energy is already suppressed.”

Heng Xiaowen nodded. Fantasy horse tranquilizer.

He then took both talismans, walked up to the edge of the containment array and smacked them onto the horse’s forehead in quick succession. The horse stilled and its expression seemed to dull.

Qiu Jucheng turned back to them. “I’ll teach you how to draw them, and then you all can help me make the replacements.”

He then reached into the qiankun bag and pulled out… Another very similar looking bag.

He held it out in Heng Xiaowen’s direction. “Help me with this.”

“With the bag?”

Qiu Jucheng nodded and then said completely nonchalantly, “Yes, help me get the horse in the bag.”

Sure, why not? Heng Xiaowen thought to himself, grabbing the other end of the bag’s opening and stretching it wide enough to pull over the horse. You can also use Merry Poppins bags as Pokeballs. I live in a beautiful world full of mystery, wonder, and murder horses you can keep in your purse.

When the horse disappeared into the qiankun bag and Qiu Jucheng drew the drawstrings closed, Heng Xiaowen heard a familiar chime.

[System: Congratulations, Protagonist. You have captured a spiritual beast to exchange for entry to the Autumn Valley Immortal Youth Tournament. (+100) points have been rewarded.]

—

It was late into the night when Heng Xiaowen and Liu Xiuying arrived at Madame Jin’s residence.

Even though she should have been asleep, Heng Xiaowen wasn’t particularly shocked when Madame Jin’s daughter-in-law answered the door promptly when he knocked.

Looking tense and exhausted, the woman fixed Heng Xiaowen with an expectant stare.

Heng Xiaowen took a breath. “I’m very sorry, we’ve come to share bad news,” he said.

“Is the horse dead?” the woman asked sharply.

Lu Xiuying hurried to assure her. “It’s dead.”

Heng Xiaowen quickly bit back a rebuttal—The horse wasn’t dead, but it’s days were numbered. It didn’t seem like the time to split hairs.

Madame Jin’s daughter-in-law immediately sagged against the doorframe, plainly relieved. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you, so much.”

Heng Xiaowen felt a squirm of discomfort. He couldn’t bring himself to accept her gratitude under the circumstances.

He moved on, resuming his original task. “Madame Jin, she—“ he paused. He was already regretting volunteering to break the news. He wasn’t good at this kind of thing. “She tried to interfere while we were capturing the horse and was killed.”

The woman blinked. “Oh,” she said.

It wasn’t a particularly strong reaction, but Heng Xiaowen knew better than to draw any meaningful conclusion from it. Life altering bad news wasn’t something people had predictable reactions to.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

When Song Jiayi said that someone should go inform the family of the deceased what had transpired that night, Heng Xiaowen had volunteered immediately and then just as quickly, felt entirely baffled by his own decision.

He decided not to dwell on it.

“Are you going to be okay?” Heng Xiaowen asked.

The woman was quiet for a long moment. “Yes.” She nodded slowly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Heng Xiaowen asked.

She narrowed her eyes at him, and made an expression that was almost amused. “Don’t worry about me, Sanren. My son inherited this house when my husband died. I will oversee its affairs until he is of age.” The woman straightened up, realizing something. “Wait one moment,” she said and disappeared inside.

Heng Xiaowen glanced down to Lu Xiuying, who was staring down the dark hall, looking thoughtful.

“Something on your mind, Shimei?” he asked.

“Da-Shixiong is very kind to worry about young Madame Jin,” she said.

He frowned. “I don’t know about that. It’s just that—” He was struggling to explain to himself what drove him to Madame Jin’s door, but trying to find the words to say out loud was even worse. “I wanted to know what her situation was like now. Even if I can’t do anything about it. I felt like I needed to know.” He sighed, feeling frustrated. He knew that wasn’t quite it. He shoved his irritation down and gave Lu Xiuying a bright smile. “Looks like I shouldn’t have been worried! Yound Madame Jin seems like she’s doing better than ever!”

She looked up at him, black eyes glittering like beetles in the dim light. “She hated that horse, but it did her a favor in the end.” She paused, watching his reaction, and then added, “You shouldn’t feel guilty about Madame Jin.”

Heng Xiaowen raised an eyebrow at her. “You have a point,” he said. “After all, it’s not like I tripped on purpose.”

Lu Xiuying’s eye’s widened briefly and she turned her face back to the hall.

He knew Lu Xiuying tripped him. There wasn’t another explanation that made sense. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Especially without knowing why she did it.

She could have been protecting him. She could have been using Madame Jin as a distraction. She might have even intuited that Madame Jin’s family would be better off without her.

He still didn’t understand this world. He probably wasn’t in a position to judge her.

The woman, returned and pressed an embroidered pouch into his hand. “I am the acting head of the house now, so I can compensate you properly for your services.”

As soon as the coin pouch was dropped into Heng Xiaowen’s hand, Lu Xiuying snatched it and held it out to the woman. “We cannot take this payment, Madame,” she said firmly.

“I insist—”

Lu Xiuying shook her head. “How will it look if someone finds out you paid a group of wandering cultivators after the former Madame Jin died in an accident during our night hunt? Your son is young—don’t give anyone in your family any further reason to scrutinize your ability to handle his affairs.”

The woman paled and quietly took the pouch back. She smiled nervously. “Guniang has a keen mind.”

Lu Xiuying smiled, full of warmth and concern. “Madame Jin praises this one too highly.” She then looked up to Heng Xiaowen. “Da-shixiong, it’s late, Shizun will expect us soon.”

Heng Xiaowen hummed in agreement and they bid the new Madame Jin goodnight.

—

After catching the horse and settling any necessary affairs, Liqiu Hua Sect wasted very little time in Lushan City. After a few hours of sleep, they were back on the road for another long day of travel.

They were tired, but spirits were high and they didn’t encounter any trouble on the road.

Late that night, Heng Xiaowen was woken by the call of nature.

Groggy, he stumbled out of the tent and found a bush a little ways from camp to relieve himself.

Heng Xiaowen didn’t spend a ton of time dwelling on his hardware update, but he was always grateful for it at times like these.

As he was about to head back to the tent, he heard a crunch and paused.

He would’ve dismissed it on account of being half asleep, but then he heard another crunch. Listening closer, he also heard someone softly speaking.

Carefully and quietly, Heng Xiaowen followed the noise.

His night vision was excellent, probably some kind of ability the original Heng Xiaowen had cultivated, so navigating the woods in the dark wasn’t difficult.

When Heng Xiaowen finally arrived at the source of the crunching, the scene before him made him question whether he had actually woken up to use the bathroom or if he was having a particularly vivid dream.

Standing in a small clearing was the horse. The very horse they had gone to great lengths catching. And in front of it, feeding it radishes and petting its nose, was Lu Xiuying.

Heng Xiaowen cleared his throat.

“Da-shixiong!” Lu Xiuying whipped around, stepping in front of the horse as if that would do anything to conceal it. “It’s not what it looks like!”

It’s not what it looks like? What could it possibly be if it’s not what it looks like?

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Lu Xiuying smiled nervously. “I— Well— Listen, I swear I’ll put him back in the qiankun pouch after he finishes this radish.”

The horse lowered its head and took another radish from Lu Xiuying’s hand and chewed it noisily, making direct eye contact with Heng Xiaowen. He was relieved to see that at least the fantasy horse tranquilizers were still stuck to its forehead.

Heng Xiaowen felt the weight of inevitability settle over him and sighed.

“It’s okay, Shimei, don’t worry about it.”

“What?”

There was only one thing that could be happening; a singular explanation for the sight in front of him.

Lu Xiuying was a horse girl.

Heng Xiaowen was by and large unfamiliar with the genre conventions of the world he now lived in. But he couldn’t think of what else could be happening.

A teenage girl sneaking out in the middle of the night to feed a horse that has been marked for slaughter? It was the beginning of every movie about horses and girls he’d ever seen!

Far be it from Heng Xiaowen to try and prevent the inexorable destiny of the horse girl.

He nodded solemnly. “I’ll help you save the horse.”

Heng Xiaowen had never seen Lu Xiuying look so flummoxed. “You’ll help me what?” she asked.

“Save the horse,” he repeated. “It’s like, misunderstood, right? It’s just spirited and has a gentle soul deep down or something?”

Lu Xiuying stared at him blankly, looked at the horse, and then looked back to him. “Yes,” she said slowly.

“Great! What do you need me to do?”

“Da-shixiong,” Lu Xiuying said. “We can’t save it. We need it to enter the tournament.”

“Then why are you feeding it radishes in the middle of the night?”

“Well—” Lu Xiuying trailed off. “I— I felt some kinship with it. I wanted to at least give it some treats these last few nights.”

“Exactly! That’s why you need to save it and win The Big Race!”

“The Big Race?” Lu Xiuying frowned. “Da-shixiong, you know the tournament isn’t a race right?”

The entire time Heng Xiaowen had existed in this world—in this story he had never read—he had been at a perpetual loss. He fumbled blindly, guided by an opaque magical System and his own clumsy attempts to blend in, to try and fill the roll he had been assigned. He couldn’t rely on knowledge of the plot, he couldn’t even rely on knowledge of common genre tropes and cliches. But this?

This was the first moment Heng Xiaowen felt certain of something, the first moment he felt like he was making a strategic decision and not just fucking around and finding out. All those direct-to-TV horse movies he watched as a kid were finally paying off.

It was stupid. He knew it was stupid. But it was the first time he had felt sure of anything in so long and he thought it looked like a beautiful hill to die on.

Heng Xiaowen waved a dismissive hand. “I’m not talking about the tournament, forget about the tournament, we all know I’m going to lose it anyway. The Big Race is uh— A metaphor,” he finished lamely.

“A metaphor.” Lu Xiuying sounded unconvinced.

Heng Xiaowen sighed and leaned against a tree. “Shimei,” he said. “I know you can tell I haven’t been myself since my accident.”

He figured that there wasn’t any point not acknowledging it—not after Yang Jingfei had loudly informed him how obvious it was.

“Da-shixiong has been acting differently,” Lu Xiuying responded warily.

“Right,” he said. “And I’ve lost a lot of my talent. It might not ever come back either, I’m not sure I’ll be able to fully recover.”

“Da-shixong—”

“No, let me finish.” Heng Xiaowen never had any patience for people insisting he’ll get better. “But you’re clever, and you’re skilled, so you’ve actually got a chance at being a decent cultivator. Aren’t we better off if I focus on helping you instead of wasting this opportunity so I can make a fool of myself?”

Lu Xiuying stared at him for a long time with the horse looming over her shoulder.

Finally, she broke the silence. “Madame Jin died so we could catch this horse. This horse will die so you can have a chance to compete in this tournament. If you don’t compete, then that’s all wasted.”

Heng Xiaowen was starting to feel frustrated. What kind of horse girl behavior was this? Shouldn’t she be jumping with joy that she gained an accomplice?

“That’s what I’m trying to say! I’m not— I’m not going to be able to make that kind of sacrifice worthwhile,” he said.

“But you’re the only one who can enter. I haven’t formed my golden core yet and neither have our juniors.” Lu Xiuying turned away from the horse to look at him directly. “Da-shixiong, it’s not just about how you perform in the tournament. Being able to enter it at all will lend Liqiu Hua Sect credibility. The Autumn Valley Immortal Youth Tournament is the largest gathering in the cultivation world. It’s one of the only opportunities for people like us to make connections with cultivators from prominent sects.”

She walked away from the horse to stand under the tree he was leaning against. “It’s the kind of opportunity people would kill for,” she said. “Why are you trying to convince me to throw it away? Are you trying to sabotage Liqiu Hua Sect? Are you trying to sabotage me?”

“What?” This was not going at all how Heng Xiaowen thought it would. “No, nothing like that. It’s just...” He trailed off into a mumble.

“What was that?”

“You have to save the horse and win The Big Race!” He could feel himself flushing and hoped it wasn’t visible in the dark. “Metaphorically!”

Lu Xiuying’s intense, suspicious expression melted off her face, replaced with a bright smile. She grabbed Heng Xiaowen’s hands in hers and tugged him a few steps toward her. “Da-shixiong cares so much about me that he’d give up going to the tournament for me?”

Heng Xiaowen nodded.

Lu Xiuying’s smile widened and she leaned forward.

For an alarming second, Heng Xiaowen thought she might be about to kiss him and he froze.

But Lu Xiuying didn’t kiss him. She swept his legs out from underneath him, knocking him to the ground. And she pressed in the point of her sword against his throat.

“So,” she said. “Who are you?”