Blooming Dais

Song Qingshi returned to that strange space.

This time he was not the ignorant soul he once was. Many questions required answers here.

His primordial spirit had collapsed after being extracted, and his cultivation fell to the foundation-building level. The wound in his abdomen was critical, any minor movement could exacerbate it. Fortunately, Song Qingshi was his own best healer. He had prepared for all sorts of injuries. Calmly, he took out his tools, quickly cleaned the critical wound, and performed emergency sutures. He then tightly bandaged it and consumed all the remaining medicinal pills.

After methodically handling everything, he walked up to the sphere claiming to be the system. The system was on the verge of collapsing. Chaotic energies spilled out, red and golden lights flickered in alternation, and black mist seeped out, occasionally emitting weird sounds akin to a hard drive malfunctioning.

Was the system breaking down?

Song Qingshi forcefully tapped the sphere, hoping to restore it to normal.

After several taps, the system hesitated for a moment. The strange sounds slightly improved. It struggled to display the message: "Mission executor Song Qingshi, mission failed, score: negative one hundred, cumulative: negative one hundred and thirty-five thousand one hundred."

Song Qingshi was psychologically prepared for failure, but his mild OCD still found it unsettling. Couldn't they just give him a zero?

Suppressing his discomfort, he asked, "Where did I go wrong?"

The system stuttered in its reply, "Saved the wrong character, error, error, error, gravely erroneous…"

"Scientists must be brave enough to face mistakes and seek the correct answers," Song Qingshi said after a moment of silence, breaking into a smile. "Since you think I answered the question wrongly, let's look for the reason behind the mistake. Starting from the outcome, we'll trace it back step by step to the root of the error."

The system's malfunction worsened and it could no longer participate in the discussion.

Song Qingshi began to question and answer himself:

"In the Jin Feng Mountain Manor, there are only two beauties who left a strong impression on me. Since Yue Wuhuan is not the correct answer, then it must be Bai Zihao. To be honest, Bai Zihao's beauty is not my type, yet I found myself irresistibly drawn to him, experiencing a strong sensation. It's as if in an exam… my intuition is hinting at the answer?"

"Intuition stems from overlooked details. For instance, they praised Bai Zihao's pure Yin constitution and his single water elemental root during the feast. Phrases like 'abusive love' and 'forceful acquisition' appeared in the documents. Jin Feiren treasures Bai Zihao like a jewel, but dismisses Yue Wuhuan like worn-out shoes. Where would this 'abusive love' come from if there were no love between them? Also, how could someone like Yue Wuhuan, who has nothing, be the subject of 'forceful acquisition'?"

"I've always had a vague sense of what Yue Wuhuan was doing behind the scenes."

"However, I overlooked the contradictions and hypnotized myself into believing that Yue Wuhuan was a pure-hearted little angel, the main protagonist in my mission."

"I'd rather be blind than face the truth."

"The news of Jin Feiren becoming Dao companions with Bai Zihao emerged, and I could no longer deceive myself."

"I failed, I flunked the test, yet, I don't regret it at all…"

"From the beginning till now, whatever Yue Wuhuan wanted, I gave it to him. Whether it's precious elixirs or expensive mystical arts and treasures, whether it's pastries on the table or beautiful gemstones, whether it's my body or my emotions, whether it's my life or my freedom…"

"I willingly gave up my principles as a healer, gave up everything for him…"

"Is it simply because he's the subject of the mission, a patient?"

"What fool would do that!"

　...

"I've treated other patients. Which of them received such preferential treatment? An Long has been begging me for Purple Flower Dew for how many years? When has he been able to act recklessly without facing consequences?"

"Who among those conducting medical research isn't a battle-hardened warrior, stumbling and rolling through mistakes? How could I be afraid of making mistakes, afraid of flunking? The term 'flunking' that I kept repeating is a lighter term I used because I didn't dare to use the word 'death' in relation to Yue Wuhuan."

"In conclusion," Song Qingshi said mockingly, "I am truly foolish and slow-witted. I've been in love and didn't even realize it. From our first encounter by the river, that phoenix flew into my heart, leading me to ignore everything and everyone else, wishing to save him alone…"

"One thousand three hundred fifty-one failures, a score of negative one hundred and thirty-five thousand one hundred points prove it. No matter how many tasks I do, I will always answer the question incorrectly and save the wrong person," Song Qingshi said defiantly, wiping away his tears.

"Because he is the mistake I'm willingly making!"

　...

The system's malfunction worsened, emitting more and more black smoke, and making strange creaking noises.

When Song Qingshi initially realized that Yue Wuhuan wasn't the main romantic focus, he prepared himself to face the System's punishment. However, upon discovering the scroll that revealed cosmic truths, he started to question the integrity of the mission.

The System claims this is a romantic BL novel?

Given what's been happening at the Jin Feng Manor, is this actually an inappropriate, trashy tale not suitable for children?

Yet, every construct in this world is based on reality. He has conducted extensive medical research in the Valley of the Medicine King, and every study, every detail, stands up to scientific scrutiny.

He doesn't believe that a romance novel fixated on sexual thrills would construct such a comprehensive world. Nor does he think two people occupied solely with sexual escapades could influence the course of this world.

In fact, after Jin Feiruo and Bai Zihao became Daoist companions, nothing happened…

Are readers' complaints that easily dismissed?

Using his logical scientific mindset, Song Qingshi finds increasing discrepancies. Why is Yue Wuhuan, a being as magnificent as a phoenix, targeted by cosmic laws? His myriad memories of dying reveal that cosmic laws place far greater importance on Yue Wuhuan than on any main character or mission, even forsaking missions to drag him into the abyss.

Clearly, he is an important character. How could he be reduced to cannon fodder or a minor role, subjected to humiliation or brutal death?

"I have doubts," Song Qingshi began to scrutinize this suspicious orb called the System, seeking to unveil its structure to pinpoint its malfunction. "I suspect you're lying. This world is real, and you're not a book-traversing system. You merely glimpsed the cosmic pattern, predicted part of the future, then fabricated this so-called story to manipulate souls for your unspoken agenda."

Yet, there are still many things he doesn't understand…

Why did the System kindly help him repair his body killed by An Long and return his scattered soul fragments from another world? Why did his soul fragment into two different task-doers? Why doesn't the System provide more mission information, like the name of the main romantic focus? Why does the System make errors…

Fueled by insatiable curiosity, Song Qingshi attempted to use Spirit Flame and Mysterious Flame to break open the orb, but his violent methods failed. He then had an epiphany and treated the System as if it were a patient, sending his consciousness into the orb to see if there was anything living within.

What he saw was beyond belief.

Beneath the orb's shiny exterior was not a mechanical structure as he'd imagined, but rather squirming dark-red flesh, pulsating as if breathing—filthy and nauseating, like some malevolent entity dwelling in sewers.

Countless streams of golden light, representing virtuous deeds, converged within, forming golden chains that tightly bound these disturbing entities, creating an impenetrable seal that hindered all actions and blocked all information.

The gold and red forces were in constant conflict.

Is this... the reason for the System's malfunction?

As Song Qingshi observed the chains formed by the golden light of virtuous deeds, he felt a sense of familiarity. He reached out and extended his consciousness. The golden chain, as if recognizing its master, affectionately moved closer and re-integrated, injecting a torrent of information into his mind like an explosion.

Tears of pain began to fall.

Song Qingshi couldn't help but laugh at himself, realizing how foolish he had been.

So it turns out, all of this was his own doing…

　...

Each time a mission failed, the System would wipe his memory clean.

Thirteen hundred and forty-nine times, repeated failures and repeated erasures.

He had long since forgotten who he was, why he was given these missions, and his connection to the Phoenix.

But each time he saw the Phoenix, he couldn't help but rescue him…

The System, a tool wielded by the Cosmic Order, continuously increased the mission's difficulty upon discovering his motives. Seizing the opportunity when his memory was blank, the System misled and interfered, even attempting to execute him outright, turning his efforts to save the Phoenix into an insurmountable task.

The condition of the Phoenix was deteriorating…

Intelligent, sensitive, vulnerable…

Anyone approaching the Phoenix with ulterior motives would never gain his trust.

Finally, Song Qingshi assessed his mistakes and took a desperate gamble. Forsaking all reason, he employed the Butterfly Effect, using irregular actions to influence a deterministic System. Within the tightly woven web of the System, he tore a hole of uncontrollability, causing deviations to steer fate into unforeseeable directions.

The System couldn't obliterate his soul because he was protected by a vast array of golden light symbolizing his virtuous deeds.

These virtuous deeds, rooted in cause and effect, were inherently pure and good—beyond the reach of even the Cosmic Order.

Song Qingshi chose the realm where the Phoenix's power was at its peak, sowing seeds that would later become clues. He then severed a portion of his soul and heart, dispatching it to a simpler world for trials. Meanwhile, he placed the remaining part of his soul and body in the realm of cultivation, focused on becoming a flawless vessel.

After preparations were complete, the vast reservoir of his virtuous golden light acted upon his instructions. It infiltrated the System, causing malfunctions, smoothly turning his soul fragment into a new agent to carry out the straightforward mission of saving the main romantic interest. Then it blocked all further mission information, transforming him into an uninformed novice.

No mission prompts, no System guidance, no interference, and not a hint of distraction…

He would exchange his undivided affection to earn the Phoenix's complete trust.

When the System realized the anomaly, it resisted fiercely and even used An Long to kill him. Fortunately, An Long had refrained from destroying his body. The golden light of virtuous deeds automatically healed his wounds and introduced a naive soul back into the body.

He believed that on the stage of Langgan Terrace, no matter who the main romantic interest was, he would choose Yue Wuhuan and wholeheartedly strive to save him.

The Butterfly Effect—where anything could happen. Perhaps it might lead to a tranquil sea, or perhaps it could stir up a colossal tidal wave.

True destiny shouldn't be manipulated or controlled by an unjust cosmic order.

Through the delicate flap of a butterfly's wings, Yue Wuhuan's fate finally experienced subtle alterations. He ventured into places he would have never considered, obtained the Blood King Vine he would have never acquired, and regained a portion of his lost powers—unprecedented blessings that had never occurred before.

Song Qingshi was uncertain if he had succeeded...

But this was the closest he had come to success.

　...

An Long possessed innate combat prowess, making him an important chess piece in the grand scheme of the Cosmic Order. To preserve this piece, the System exerted a surge of overbearing power, breaking through the blockade of the golden light of virtuous deeds, thus contradicting the natural laws to save a life. As a result, it grew increasingly weak, accumulating more and more glitches.

He must seize this opportunity to return to that world, locate Yue Wuhuan again, and complete the final step in the rescue mission.

Song Qingshi tried to manipulate the golden light of his virtuous deeds, once again infiltrating the System to actively select a new task.

The malevolent entities within the System detected his maneuver. Countless black tendrils quickly snaked out from the gaps between the golden chains. Untouchable, indestructible, and inescapable, they enveloped Song Qingshi's body and emitted a terrifying hum: "Initiating penalty for mission failure: erasing all memories of task agent Song Qingshi."

The black tendrils invaded his spiritual consciousness, frantically deleting his memories.

Song Qingshi felt the fading image of Yue Wuhuan, his features growing increasingly indistinct...

Despite his desperate efforts to control the golden light, he couldn't ward off the invasion of the black tendrils. Gritting his teeth, he gave up on directly confronting them, focusing instead on severing their source.

Neither side could gain an advantage, but his mental recollections became increasingly chaotic. Just as he was on the brink of failure, the System malfunctioned severely yet again.

"Task agent 081 failed, task agent Zhao Ye is missing. Task agent Zhao Ye is missing."

"Task agent 081 failed, task agent Zhao Ye is missing. Task agent Zhao Ye is missing."

"Task agent 081…"

Song Qingshi didn't know who Zhao Ye was, but he noticed the System's control had weakened substantially. In the instant before his memories were completely obliterated, he channeled the boundless golden light of virtuous deeds into the loathsome entities, using the world's most brilliant force to tear apart the encroaching darkness, annihilating both.

The System exploded…

The space exploded…

Song Qingshi was cast into darkness.

Vital memories were lost, and important people vanished...

A multitude of tasks unfolded before his eyes, each leading to a different world.

Instinctively, he reached out and tightly grasped the one leading to hope…

Fallen Mountain, Lost Trace Forest.

The area is filled with eerie, gigantic trees, jagged rocks, and a foul-smelling mist that pervades the air. Even beasts are reluctant to reside here, with only subterranean reptiles daring to occasionally poke their heads out. From time to time, carrion-eating night-demons screech out their disturbing calls.

Spirit Treasure Celestial was disheveled, his face covered in stubble, a shadow of his former self. Hiding in a cramped, damp cave, he jolted at the cry of a night-demon, burying his head even lower, fearing that he might be discovered by the Eternal Summit.

Ever since the Divine Spirit emerged from the Eternal Summit three thousand years ago, the world of cultivation had turned into a bloodbath.

This Divine Spirit allowed no one to see his face or discuss his name. People could only vaguely refer to him as the Master of the Eternal Summit, or the Divine Ruler.

He was devoid of emotions and mercy. Beneath his feet burned flames that incinerated all living beings, where crimson serpents slithered. Surrounding him were countless Nirvana-red butterflies that blotted out the sky. Wherever he went, rivers ran red with blood, mountains were built from bones, and all was desolation.

This was the darkest, most terrifying era in the world of cultivation. Sects, large and small, were slaughtered—Blood Demon Sect, Moon Concealment Sect, Dragon and Tiger Gate, Spirit Mountain School, Golden Phoenix Manor... Regardless of alignment, sect, status, wealth, or level of cultivation, those targeted by the Eternal Summit faced complete annihilation.

Everyone lived in constant fear, unsure of the criteria the Eternal Summit used to select its victims. All they knew was that when beautiful red clouds appeared in the sky and the Nirvana butterflies began to dance, the Divine Ruler of the Eternal Summit would descend. His chosen prey, whether resisting or surrendering, pleading or fleeing, would fall into the most heartless and horrifying hunt. Some souls even ended up in a hell of eternal despair. Occasionally, there were a few lucky survivors, but they remained traumatized, unclear why they were spared.

Spirit Treasure Celestial's Water Mirror Manor had also been destroyed. Luckily, he wasn't in the sect that day and managed to escape. His cultivation technique was Turtle Concealment, specialized in hiding his aura, with various means of escape. Over the years, he had been in hiding, like a rat scurrying in sewers. He had experienced several close calls, sustaining severe injuries and a significant loss in his cultivation level, leaving him battered and beleaguered.

His suffering was immense, yet the relentless pursuit from the Eternal Summit continued, allowing him just enough room to struggle and resist, appearing only when he thought he was safe. It was like a cat playing with a mouse, keeping him forever on the edge between despair and a sliver of hope, torn between the desire to live and die.

Unable to hold back, Spirit Treasure Celestial cursed under his breath, unable to understand why he was so unlucky to be relentlessly pursued and tormented for thousands of years.

The night-demon bird let out another terrifying cry, as if mocking.

Every bird in this world could be a spy for the Eternal Summit, heralding danger wherever they appeared.

Spirit Treasure Celestial's slightly relaxed body tensed again. He swiftly strengthened the defense formation in the Lost Trace Forest by several layers, thickening the mist and adding decoy puppets in various places, ensuring any pursuers would lose their way, buying himself time to escape.

In the sky, a splendid glow appeared. From it emerged nine gorgeous Xuanming birds, their radiant red tail feathers trailing behind a magnificent golden magic ship. On the ship, numerous mythical birds and beasts sat or stood: the Reborn Phoenix preened, the Blissful Birds sang, while cranes and peacocks danced gracefully, each vying to display their feathers. They looked adoringly and devoutly at the beautiful divine spirit concealed behind layers of pearl curtains, unresentful even when met with indifference.

The magic ship halted above the Lost Trace Forest.

Handmaidens transformed from Lovebirds carefully drew aside layer upon layer of pearl curtains before taking their places on either side, daring neither to speak nor make eye contact.

It's well-known in the cultivation world that the Divine Ruler of the Eternal Summit has an extreme fondness for cleanliness.

He despises the world's gaze, not allowing anyone to see his face or skin; those who dare are blinded.

He loathes the filthiness of words, forbidding anyone to utter his name or title; those who do find their tongues severed.

For this reason, he's always clad in a snow-feather cloak woven from Icebird feathers and Ice silkworm threads, covering himself entirely from head to toe. Not even a single hair is exposed. He wears gloves made from pristine magical beast skin to prevent contact with anything. A veiled face mask made from merfolk pearls and silk shrouds his stunning beauty, revealing only a pair of emotionless, dark golden phoenix eyes—flames encased in ice, restraint taken to its ultimate extreme.

The birds retracted their feathers, ceased their singing, and bowed their heads.

The Divine Ruler slowly emerged from behind the pearl curtains, disdainfully surveying the world. Despite years of cleansing, ridding it of its filth, he still felt uncomfortable. A nauseating scent pervaded the air, making each breath unbearable.

Enough, time to end this delightful game.

His final prey was already at death's door, neither physically nor mentally worth tormenting any further.

He looked coldly at Spirit Treasure Celestial, who was desperately hiding in the darkness. A brilliant flame ignited in his palm, from which emerged several exquisite Nirvana butterflies. They spread their fiery wings and flew toward that terrified little mouse, hiding in its fetid drain, paralyzed by perpetual fear.

Spirit Treasure Celestial spotted the crimson sky, saw the red butterflies swooping down, realized that even the mist of Lost Trace Forest couldn't stave off impending doom. He struggled to activate the decoy puppets, switching his position in an attempt to flee once more...

But where else could he go? What haven had he not already tried?

Spirit Treasure Celestial came to a sudden halt. He finally realized that there was nowhere left to run, nowhere left to go...

Is this what despair feels like?

During his hesitation, roaring flames burst forth from all directions, engulfing the entire forest and obliterating all the defensive formations. Serpent-like vines writhed in the fire, burrowing into the ground to block any escape, while countless Nirvana butterflies fluttered in the air, weaving an inescapable web of death.

Life had reached its end; there was no more need to run.

A sense of relief washed over Spirit Treasure Celestial. Like a lifeless puppet, he slowly knelt on the ground, resigned to being torn to shreds and consigned to an even worse hell.

The terrifying Divine Ruler descended before him, flanked by crimson butterflies.

Spirit Treasure Celestial looked up, intending to beg for the mercy of a quick death. Suddenly, he sensed something strangely familiar in those barely-visible, dark golden phoenix eyes behind the veil. They seemed to remind him of something from many years ago... He thought for a while, recalling the early sects that were exterminated: Golden Phoenix Manor, Dragon and Tiger Gate, Azure Rainbow Sect, Blood Demon Sect...

These sects, disparate in their territories and modes of conduct, met the same fate...

What was their commonality?

Memories of a mortal youth with similarly dark-golden phoenix eyes started to emerge in his mind. The youth was extraordinarily talented, breathtakingly beautiful, yet defiant. They had broken his bones, clipped his wings, and dragged him into the abyss of lust, treating him like a plaything. They had seen nothing wrong with it; a slave bought with money should naturally serve their masters...

It seemed like that youth was discarded after they grew tired of him, and his new owner disfigured him, driving him to madness.

What was the youth's name?

Spirit Treasure Celestial exclaimed in horror, "Yue Wu..."

Before he could finish, a gloved hand shot out, ruthlessly silencing him, stifling the name that should never have been spoken.

Spirit Treasure Celestial understood everything. Regretful tears flowed. He knew what was to come and harbored no illusions. If only back then...

There are no "ifs" in the real world.

Scorching flames funneled through the hand stifling his mouth, searing his throat and gradually reducing his organs to ashes. His skin withered inch by inch, becoming nourishment for the vines sprouting from the ground.

After his agonizing death, there was no liberation; his sinful soul was extracted and sealed in a specially crafted soul lantern.

The Divine Ruler glanced down, noticing some ash smudges on his pristine white gloves. He frowned in displeasure and extended his hand toward the Lovebirds at his side.

Named Xiao Zuo and Xiao You, these Lovebird demons were born on the Kunyu Tree in the Spirit Sea and had little contact with the outside world. Their hearts were pure, and since the birth of the Divine Ruler, they had volunteered to be his personal handmaidens.

Xiao Zuo carefully removed his soiled gloves, incinerating them without a trace. Xiao You swiftly retrieved a golden box containing clean new gloves and presented it to the Divine Ruler for his selection.

After a meticulous inspection, the Divine Ruler donned a new pair of gloves and ascended into the sky.

Blood King Vines emerged from the ground, coiling around the soul lantern.

The crimson glow faded, the Nirvana butterflies vanished, and the magic ship finally left the forest, now reduced to ruins.

　...

At the Summit of Immortality, outside the Divine Temple.

The Divine Ruler carefully placed the newly acquired soul lantern on the cliffside, ensuring that the soul within could endure the eternal flames of the Summit. A spell was cast to muffle its agonized wails, preserving the sanctity of the area.

He took pleasure in collecting soul lanterns of irredeemable sinners.

Over three millennia, the collection grew from two to hundreds of thousands of lanterns, illuminating the cliffs each night like a sea of stars—mesmerizingly beautiful.

That person had once said, in the Nine-Tiered Tower, that the lights were beautiful, as were the memories they conjured.

Should that person return, they would undoubtedly find joy in these luminous sights.

Together, they could sit in the Golden Tower, revel in wine and laughter, and enjoy the nightly lights, savoring once more the sweetness of yore.

The thought alone filled him with unparalleled joy.

　...

Named the "Phoenix Pavilion," the Golden Tower was adorned with the world's most beautiful gemstones. It was a forbidden sanctuary within the Summit of Immortality and a love nest he had prepared exclusively for that person—trespassers would be put to death.

Twelve layers of beaded curtains and countless protective barriers shielded the inside from prying eyes and worldly impurities. Fragrant herbs burned in every corner, resembling the unique scent of that person, bringing slight comfort to his breaths.

Crossing the barriers, the Divine Ruler removed his veil and took deep breaths of the herb-infused air. He discarded his snow-feather cloak and stepped into a bath, meticulously cleansing himself. Although his celestial body, since reincarnation, remained perpetually clean, he couldn't forget that person's advice: "The air is full of invisible germs; frequent cleaning is essential."

He was thorough in his cleansing.

He had tormented a soul named Zhao Qian countless times, unable to locate that strange system. He analyzed the requirements and wiped away all past traces, ensuring the wrong name would vanish from the world.

He intended to become the correct answer so that when that person returned to fulfill their mission, he could propose anew and unite as Dao companions.

His body was now impeccably clean and perfect; it had not touched any filth.

He would not make mistakes again.

Emerging from the bath, his slightly curled, wet hair trailed down to his heels. A magnificent red phoenix tattoo unfurled across his back, its long tail feathers sliding across his slender waist. Dressed in a red ice-silk robe, he slowly approached the mirror and disdainfully touched the increasingly alluring red teardrop mole beneath his left eye—an indelible mark that persistently reminded him of his insatiable desires.

He had tasted the pinnacle of delight and could no longer suppress his yearning.

He craved sweet, tender kisses, the gaze of clear eyes, the touch of smooth skin, the frenzied entanglement of passion—he ached for that person, insatiably so.

Every night he is tormented by desire and agony; each morning he awakens engulfed in despair and loneliness, contemplating death daily.

But he dares not die...

He fears that if the one he waits for returns and finds him gone, that person would abandon him.

That scenario is more terrifying than death itself.

Huddled in the darkness, he clutches a white pebble tightly, kissing it over and over again, as he whimpers a prayer:

"Qing Shi, I miss you…"

Song Qing Shi had been transported through the explosion.

During the explosion, he received a strange system task: "Eliminate the most malevolent villain in the cultivation realm, the ineradicable [garbled text]."

What did the scrambled text say? Being a science major, his reading comprehension wasn't great, and he couldn't make heads or tails of it.

Lying on the ground covered in blood, Song Qing Shi was baffled for quite some time.

He vaguely remembered that his operational error might have caused the system to explode. Although he couldn't recall exactly what he had done, the vulnerability of such a high-dimensional construct struck him as absurd. Are all systems so fragile?

In any case, revival was a good thing. The unsolvable problems could wait until later.

With great difficulty, Song Qing Shi moved his fingers and felt pain throughout his body. It seemed like his ribs were broken, and he had abdominal injuries, along with various other wounds caused by the explosion. His head also hurt, filled with jumbled fragments of memory. One moment he felt like Song Qing Shi, the medical student with ALS; the next, he felt like Song Qing Shi, the cultivator and healer; and later still, he wondered if he might be a powerful founder of a cultivation sect.

In the corners of his memory, there was also a vague red shadow that made his heart feel sweet and somewhat tearful whenever he thought about it. What was that?

Could it be the Chi Xia Buddha Fruit?

That fruit induced random human emotions—sometimes overly sweet, sometimes so bitter it made you want to cry.

After some contemplation, Song Qing Shi felt that it resembled neither an object nor a fruit but something—or someone—more significant. Setting aside this important yet perplexing question, his immediate problem was survival.

He searched and sorted through his memories for any useful information. Unfortunately, his mustard seed bag was empty of healing pills, and his injuries were too severe for delicate maneuvers. His dantian was damaged, hindering the flow of spiritual energy and rendering many healing techniques unusable.

Suddenly, rain began to fall from the sky, cold and uncomfortable against his skin.

The pain made Song Qing Shi want to cry, but he held back, struggling to crawl to the side. Yet, with bones injured all over his body, he didn't make it far despite his arduous efforts. Eventually, he lost too much blood and his consciousness began to blur.

After an indeterminate time, a green umbrella appeared above his head, and someone started poking his face with a tree branch.

"Hey? Hey? Are you dead?"

Wanting to cry out for help, Song Qing Shi could only manage a feeble groan: "Ugh..."

The person sighed, put down the umbrella, and stuffed an unknown pill into his mouth.

Song Qing Shi felt the world spin around him, and then he knew no more.

　...

When Song Qing Shi woke up again, he found himself lying in a comfortable bed covered with a soft quilt. His wounds had been roughly attended to, and wafts of herbal scent emanated from a clay pot on a red clay stove next to him. By the smell of it, the ingredients seemed to be deer bone flower, moon vine, chirping sand, and soaring grass—all elements that nourish qi, enrich blood, and aid in wound recovery.

He sank into contemplation.

The door opened, and a young man in green attire entered with a crane-spouted pot. Seeing that Song Qing Shi had awoken, he appeared surprised, "You actually survived? It's a miracle!"

"Your suturing technique is incorrect, your knot-tying is wrong, and that stitching on the leg... you skewed it. Furthermore, it's a joint area; you should use stronger thread, otherwise it will come apart," Song Qing Shi quickly assessed the medical errors, then eyed the young man's crane-spouted pot, fearing he might force-feed him the concoction. "Moon vine is generally used to regulate hormones and nourish qi in postpartum women; it's not quite suitable for men. Chirping sand is too hot and could cause heavy bleeding in seriously injured patients..."

He survived because he hadn't yet been administered that potion.

"It's my first time treating someone; I lack experience. Considering your severe blood loss, I thought you needed nourishment similar to that of postpartum care," the young man blushed as Song Qing Shi critiqued him. He hastily put down the pot and brushed his sleeves, feigning that nothing had happened, then added defensively, "What's there to be afraid of? Even if there were a few mistakes, it's my brilliant medical skills that saved you!"

Song Qing Shi pondered, "What was the pill you fed me?"

The young man replied, "Eight-Treasure Heart-Protecting Pill."

Song Qing Shi continued to regard him with an indescribable expression.

The young man conceded, "Alright, alright, I admit my medical skills are lacking. I always fail my exams. It was the pill that saved you."

The Eight-Treasure Heart-Protecting Pill had safeguarded his vital meridians and partly repaired them. After resting for some time on the bed, feeling somewhat rejuvenated, Song Qing Shi requested two pills for pain relief and anesthesia. With considerable effort, he managed to sit up and re-suture his wounds. Then he asked the young man to replace the moon vine and chirping sand in the herbal decoction with moon-scented grass and simmer it over low heat.

The young man introduced himself as Song Jin Cheng, a bright and cheerful lad around sixteen or seventeen years old with a foundation-building level of cultivation. Without waiting for Song Qing Shi to ask, he volunteered his backstory: "It seems you know a bit about medicine. Have you heard of Medicine King Valley? It's the largest medical academy in the cultivation world. Many formidable physicians have graduated from there, such as Master Pu and Master Luo…"

Song Qing Shi pondered for a while and responded blankly, "Isn't Medicine King Valley rather small?"

He had a vague memory of a Medicine King Valley, but it was impoverished, small, and dilapidated—entirely unlike the prestigious institution Song Jin Cheng described. He didn't recognize any Master Pu or Master Luo. If he ever had the opportunity to meet them, he'd make sure to pay his respects.

"Are you from the countryside?" Song Jin Cheng was surprised, "Medicine King Valley is massive! They don't restrict entry based on aptitude, age, or gender—only intelligence matters. Many mortals and half-cultivators try to enroll. Hundreds of thousands compete for just a few hundred apprenticeship positions. Those who pass are exceptionally gifted."

Song Qing Shi was stunned.

This is the pinnacle medical academy of the cultivation world? A paradise for top students? He no longer wanted to complete missions; he wanted to study!

As he got carried away with this exhilarating thought, a question suddenly occurred to him: "Are you also a physician from Medicine King Valley?"

If this is the caliber of students coming out of the medical academy, it hardly lives up to its reputation.

"I was born in Medicine King Valley, both of my parents are physicians there, so I grew up within its walls," Song Jin Cheng's face flushed as he changed the topic. "My great-grandmother is quite formidable, you know. Ever heard of Lady Qing Luan? A legendary apothecary in the world of cultivation! She's disseminated medical knowledge throughout the world, benefiting commoners, widely accepting disciples, and single-handedly building the Medicine King Valley into what it is today—a legendary figure for the ages." So, he's a third-generation legacy student who didn't even need to take an entrance exam.

Song Qing Shi nodded appreciatively, "That is indeed impressive."

He always felt that Qing Luan wasn't actually an old woman but rather a young girl with a gentle exterior but an iron will.

Song Jin Cheng continued to chatter away, "My great-grandfather was Song Ming Hong, a mortal who cultivated himself into a Golden Core Sword Immortal... Apparently, there's also a highly revered great master teacher in the lineage with the surname Song, so my great-grandfather took on that surname as well. Rumor has it that Master Teacher Song has been in closed-door meditation for thousands of years and may be gone by now... Anyway, it's a topic that's forbidden to discuss within the Valley."

The more Song Qing Shi heard, the more confused his memory became, intensifying his splitting headache.

Noticing his discomfort, Song Jin Cheng asked concernedly, "What's the matter?"

Song Qing Shi gravely responded, "I think I've lost my memory."

Song Jin Cheng eyed him skeptically for a while before asking cautiously, "You're not trying to dodge the medical fee, are you?"

Song Qing Shi looked perplexed, "Medical fee?"

"You have to pay for medical treatment!" Song Jin Cheng leapt up in indignation. He had gauged that the man sprawled on the ground was wearing a robe made of expensive fabric, looking like a wealthy young master, so he had reluctantly used an expensive Eight Treasures Heart-Protecting Pill that was a birthday gift from his mother. "That pill is expensive; you owe me eight hundred top-grade Spirit Stones."

Song Qing Shi nodded in understanding. He searched his mustard seed bag for Spirit Stones and after a while, pulled out just over twenty.

Song Jin Cheng fixed him with an intense stare.

Song Qing Shi's face also turned red: "I seem to be quite poor. Others take care of me."

Song Jin Cheng asked, "Who's that generous?"

"I can't remember." Song Qing Shi's mind conjured a blurry red silhouette once again. Wincing at the headache, he said, "I feel like it's someone I'm very fond of. They often give me pocket money and buy me many nice things."

"Ah, I see," Song Jin Cheng confirmed, "This person must be your father!"

Song Qing Shi was taken aback, "Is that so?"

"Of course," Song Jin Cheng analyzed with full confidence, "Even if you've lost your memory, use your brain! Who else in the world would take care of you and give you money for no reason? Only a biological parent would do such things!"

Song Qing Shi pondered his life before the memory loss, feeling that Song Jin Cheng's analysis made a lot of sense.

Song Jin Cheng generously said, "You're wearing a Phoenix Blood gem around your neck that's worth quite a bit and also contains a soul enchantment. I guess your dad put it there because you look too clueless and might get lost. Just stick close to me and don't wander off. Your father might come looking for you soon, and then he can settle all accounts."

Song Qing Shi nodded emphatically.

Fumbling, Song Jin Cheng prepared the medicine and handed it to him. Song Qing Shi tasted it and realized there were significant errors in the ratios of the auxiliary herbs. Feeling that this young man was still unqualified to practice medicine, he tentatively inquired. Song Jin Cheng bashfully admitted that he had failed five out of seven subjects and had sneaked out to see the world, planning to visit a friend at Tian Wu Gate.

Song Qing Shi almost choked on the medicine, and a sense of pity for Lady Qing Luan overcame him. How could she have descendants who were such academic disasters?

He observed the young man, whose face was brimming with self-satisfaction, and massaged his confused temples. The impulse to drag him back to Medicine King Valley and make him grind through thousands of assignments until he became a competent physician overwhelmed him...

Would that be going too far?

Song Qing Shi took a deep breath, suppressing his urge to mentor the academically challenged youth. Confirming that his injuries were gradually healing, he remembered the strange system task and decided to inquire with this seemingly knowledgeable young man.

Upon hearing the words "Undying Summit," Song Jin Cheng panicked, covered Song Qing Shi's mouth, and looked around cautiously. He scolded, "Even if you've lost your memory, you can't speak recklessly! Is that a place you can casually mention? Utter that name and you risk being killed."

Struggling, Song Qing Shi mumbled, "Wuh-wuh-wuh, what name?"

"It's a name you mustn't speak, related to that mountain," Song Jin Cheng reassured, releasing his hand. "My mother told me about the dark history of the cultivation world when I was a kid—massacres, rivers of blood—it's a terrifying tale that makes everyone shudder. Although nothing has happened for centuries, don't ever be curious or interested in that place; even hundreds of lives wouldn't be enough!"

Song Qing Shi really wanted to know what that name was but didn't dare to ask.

Song Jin Cheng noticed his dilemma and chuckled, "No one remembers what he's called now."

Song Qing Shi concluded, "So, he's very powerful?"

Song Jin Cheng whispered, "Rumor has it he was just a step away from ascending."

Song Qing was bewildered as he calculated the gap between Qi Condensation cultivators and ascended masters. It felt like the system was asking a preschooler armed with a toy knife to duel a fully-equipped special forces soldier! He also estimated how many years it would take for him to reach the Nascent Soul stage, then how much longer to reach the Soul Separation or Out-of-Body stage, and finally pondered his odds of completing the task...

Forget it. The mission is too difficult. He'll shelve it for ten thousand years and revisit it once he reaches the Out-of-Body stage.

For now, he's going to read; reading is much more rewarding!

　...

At the peak of the Eternal Summit, atop the temple's throne.

The Divine Ruler suddenly opened his eyes, sensing the soul aura of Phoenix blood.

Author's Note: Song "Studious but Poor" Qing: Patiently waiting for Dad to pay my ransom.

Yue "Rich Dad" Wuhuan: ??????

Song Jincheng, a slacker who single-handedly led the school principal and the dean of discipline down a rabbit hole.

While Song Jin Cheng may be academically lackluster, he has a good heart. Though he kept mentioning that Song Qing Shi's father should come to pay the bills, he used the twenty or so spirit stones in his possession to pay for Song Qing Shi's accommodation, quality medicine, and new clothes, aiding in his recovery.

While recuperating, Song Qing Shi sorted through both his memories and his mustard seed bag. He tried to correlate the information in his mind with what Song Jin Cheng had provided, analytically searching for clues to his identity post-time travel.

The first thing he ruled out was the possibility of being an influential figure.

He's merely a novice at the Foundation Building stage; he has no connection with any big shots. Plus, there are very few memory fragments of any formidable figures, not even their appearance. It's probably an error that occurred when the system malfunctioned—like a few green beans mistakenly mixed into a large bucket of soybeans, hardly worth mentioning.

Next, it was confirmed that he was Song Qing Shi, a medical student from modern times.

This set of memories is complete. Aside from a lapse due to eating alcohol-filled chocolate at the age of eight, he remembers everything—family, professors, online friends, books, and all sorts of modern medical knowledge and experiment data. It's likely a genuinely lived experience.

What finally made him hesitant was his identity as an immortal world's physician named Song Qing Shi.

He can vividly recall wandering out alone from the deep mountains and acquiring the inheritance of the Medicine King. However, some details differ; for instance, he could masterfully control the Netherworld Ghost Fire and Red Lotus Mystic Fire within him during the Foundation Building stage. That was something he couldn't do in his memories. He also remembers many alchemy techniques and medical skills not in the Medicine King's legacy, along with various books he had read. His professional knowledge seems intact, and his original cultivation level might have been higher; it's just that he's forgotten people and events for a period.

After synthesizing all of the above,

Song Qing Shi believes that he has traveled from being medical student Song Qing Shi to becoming immortal realm physician Song Qing Shi. Due to severe injuries, his cultivation level has dropped, resulting in partial amnesia. However, he's uncertain if it's temporary or permanent.

As the personality, thought patterns, and lifestyle habits of medical student Song Qing Shi and immortal realm physician Song Qing Shi are extremely similar, he's adapted well psychologically. He's not worried about identity issues, but...

He sorrowfully said, "I feel like I don't have a father."

Song Jin Cheng nearly dropped the melon he was holding, "I've invested my entire fortune in you, and now you're telling me this?!"

"I'm an orphan, without any relatives," Song Qing Shi summarized after assimilating memories from both lives. "I'm also quite unsociable and seem to lack friends." Seeing Song Jin Cheng's near-teary expression, he hastily added, "Don't worry, I'm sure someone gave me pocket money! Maybe a godfather? Let me think, I might remember later."

He emptied out his mustard bag, shaking out a hodgepodge of strange items—a wooden box containing a dead Illusion Gu, a book named "The Three Tiger-Slaying Brothers," colorful clay bird figurines, several talismans he made himself, some commonly-used herbs, and a notebook filled with medical records scribbled with experimental ideas.

There's also a small note on the Illusion Gu's wooden box that he wrote himself, saying "Do Not Peek."

After reading the note, he dutifully put the wooden box back, handing the talismans and herbs to Song Jin Cheng, "I remember these could fetch some money."

Song Jin Cheng became even more melancholic: "These herbs are farmed, and the talismans are mass-produced. They're worth, at most, two spirit stones."

Song Qing Shi looked puzzled: "Are talismans really that cheap?"

"You really must be from the countryside. You've read even fewer books than I have," Song Jin Cheng sighed. "Over a thousand years ago, Lady Nian developed a method for mass-producing talismans, making common ones a household necessity. Yours look hand-drawn; did you make them yourself?"

Song Qing Shi nodded. He gave up the idea of selling talismans for money and suggested, "Once my injuries heal, I'll sell elixirs. I'm excellent at alchemy, and the elixirs I produce will be in high demand. We'll earn the money back quickly."

"You, a Foundation Building cultivator, talk a big game," Song Jin Cheng scrutinized his youthful face and skeptically asked, "Can you refine Heaven-Earth Dark Gold Pills? How about Xuan Yuan Positive Qi Pills? Or Xue's Tranquility Pills? Or Lady Li's Herbal Ointment?"

All of these are currently the most popular and best-selling pills on the market, easy to make and with simple ingredients.

When the senior disciples of Medicine King Valley are short on cash, they often concoct elixirs for sale to earn some spirit stones.

Listening to the names of these formidable elixirs he had never heard of, Song Qing Shi felt devastated. His confidence took a massive hit.

"Don't push yourself," Song Jin Cheng said, his voice softening at the sight of Song Qing Shi's almost tearful expression. "In Medicine King Valley, we have a creed to heal and help others. You're my first patient, after all. Never mind, the medicine has been administered. Pay me back when you can afford it. Take your time. My family is well-off, and my parents do provide me with an allowance. I just didn't dare ask for money this time because my exams didn't go well."

Song Qing Shi was moved. "You're truly kind. I'll keep you company in your studies from now on."

In the future, he resolved to be nicer to academic underachievers. With twenty sets of papers every day, he would transform him into an academic powerhouse to repay this kindness.

Song Jin Cheng found Song Qing Shi's naiveté amusing. He casually responded, "Sure, sure. First, get yourself admitted to Medicine King Valley."

The two continued to sort through the heap of miscellaneous items. Song Jin Cheng stumbled upon a curious notebook. The handwriting was neat, and flipping through a few pages revealed it to be a record of someone's daily habits: favorite foods, colors, activities, even their birthdate. He handed the notebook over with a teasing grin, "Is this someone you're secretly enamored with?"

Song Qing Shi took the notebook and glanced at it, freezing on the spot.

Once again, that red figure flashed through his mind. The feeling of affection was so overpowering it left him breathless, as if a piece of his heart had been gouged out. The emotional toll was worse than the failure of an alchemical concoction, more painful than the loss of lab rats. The void seemed unfillable.

Tears swirled in his eyes and fell uncontrollably.

Song Jin Cheng was alarmed, unaware that he'd touched some inexplicable sore spot. "Are you okay?"

Regaining his composure, Song Qing Shi wiped away his tears and affirmed, "It's someone I care deeply about, but I can't remember who."

Song Jin Cheng inquired, "Is there a name written in the notebook?"

Song Qing Shi shook his head, "No, only characteristics and daily habits are written down, but..."

"You're too involved to see clearly. Let me, an outsider, analyze this for you," Song Jin Cheng, ever the enthusiast, picked up the notebook again and flipped through it. "See, it says here, 'excellent at cooking, makes delicious meals, even better desserts, and the best ice pops.' Do you have a fondness for desserts?"

Song Qing Shi looked at him expectantly, "Yes! I adore desserts, especially ice pops."

Song Jin Cheng responded enviously, "If this person isn't a chef, then they must care for you deeply to make your favorite foods so often."

Song Qing Shi felt comforted by this perspective, alleviating some of his heartache.

Song Jin Cheng double-checked, "This isn't your mother, is it?"

Song Qing Shi shook his head, "I have no relatives in this world."

"That's really unfortunate," Song Jin Cheng patted him consolingly on the head. "The notebook says that this person is intelligent, beautiful, kind-hearted, considerate, and gentle. They prefer white and red, have a somewhat frail constitution with a sensitive stomach, and enjoy sword training, alchemy, reading, and studying... Let me think..."

He fell into deep contemplation, his expression gradually distorting.

Song Qing Shi looked at him expectantly, awaiting an answer.

"How did you get so lucky?" Song Jin Cheng visualized the person described in his mind, then became unrecognizably jealous. Seizing Song Qing Shi, he demanded, "This has to be a beautiful and virtuous girl—gentle, charming, and even a good cook! My God, she's the woman of my dreams! Tell me, how did you manage to captivate such a wonderful young lady? You must teach me!"

Song Qing Shi was shaken by his outburst: "A girl?"

He wasn't quite certain about his own sexual orientation; it seemed that gender didn't matter as long as there was love.

Song Jin Cheng continued his analysis, "Look, here it particularly notes that this person is emotionally sensitive. That doesn't sound like a carefree man, does it?"

Song Qing Shi concluded, "So, the one I'm fond of is a sentimental girl?"

"No, a goddess," Song Jin Cheng affirmed. "Just look at the various descriptions you've scribbled on the blank pages—graceful, beautiful, enchanting. Surely these adjectives wouldn't apply to a man. And you've written 'very beautiful' several times. Just how beautiful is she?"

Song Qing Shi struggled to picture the red figure in his mind, "Perhaps...beautiful enough to topple empires?"

"Nonsense! As if a stunner like that would give you the time of day," Song Jin Cheng felt he was shameless but remained incredibly envious. He scrutinized Song Qing Shi from head to toe, "You have a decent face, but you're rather skinny. You don't seem the type to be popular with girls. How can someone like you have a girlfriend while I, tall and handsome as I am, remain single?"

Song Qing Shi pondered briefly, "I tend to take the initiative."

"Take the initiative?" Song Jin Cheng was puzzled.

Song Qing Shi proficiently elaborated, "When you meet someone you like, you have to confess your feelings, share all your assets, give abundant gifts, and be obedient. If she tells you to go east, go east. If she tells you to kneel and wash clothes, do so. The wife is always right. If she's wrong, refer to the previous rule."

This was what his father in modern society had taught him, a lesson approved by both his mother and sister.

Knowing his emotional intelligence was low and that he was not skilled at expressing affection, he decided that when he found someone he loved, he would follow these guidelines.

This notebook proved that his approach to romance was effective.

Song Jin Cheng was conflicted, "What about a man's pride?"

Song Qing Shi asked earnestly, "Which do you want more: a girlfriend or your pride?"

Song Jin Cheng patted him on the shoulder, sighing, "Man, I've realized you're deeper than I thought."

Song Qing Shi stated gravely, "Although I can't remember who this girl is, I intend to find her again."

"Hold on," Song Jin Cheng suddenly pondered, "You said you don't have any relatives and are not good at making money, but someone gave you a lot of money..."

Song Qing Shi nodded in agreement.

Song Jin Cheng grew even more jealous: "You're not, by any chance, a boy toy kept by a woman, are you?"

Song Qing Shi's expression instantly darkened. He wanted to rebut, but couldn't find a counterargument. He was rendered speechless, infuriated like a puffed-up blowfish. After a while, he even began to wonder if Song Jin Cheng might be correct. Feeling despondent, he resolved to work hard to earn money, so as not to let down the woman he loved.

Song Jin Cheng opened the window and gazed outside, feeling a melancholy that seemed too old for his age. He sighed, "The world is really unfair."

From outside the window came the frenetic chirping of birds.

These days, he felt as though the birds had gone mad, flying and chirping everywhere, as if they were searching for something.

"So annoying," he muttered as he closed the window, "It's not even spring. What's gotten into them?"

Song Qing Shi concurred, "It is a bit noisy."

Hindered by his injuries, Song Qing Shi felt uncomfortable when he wasn't reading. He asked Song Jin Cheng for some medical textbooks. However, what kind of slacker carries textbooks? Song Jin Cheng produced hundreds of pulp novels from his mustard bag, most of them featuring naive heroes stumbling upon adventures, winning over beauties, and gaining powerful creatures as followers.

Song Qing Shi borrowed "The Tiger-Slaying Trio" and flipped through a few pages. Although he hadn't read anything from this author before, he found the old-fashioned style and punishing plot intriguing. He wondered where he could buy the subsequent volumes.

Song Qing Shi replied, "I think it hasn't been published yet; I'd like to know the ending too."

Song Jin Cheng promised to have a bookstore owner he knew to look out for it.

Song Qing Shi considered that sharpening the axe wouldn't interfere with chopping wood. With his physical condition not optimal for any strenuous activity, he decided to read the pulp novels to relax his mind and plan other things once he was fully recovered. So, he started reading the novels that Song Jin Cheng had recommended.

These pulp novels were genuinely intriguing.

Song Qing Shi, generally an aloof individual, found himself engrossed and even yearning to venture into a hidden realm to find magical herbs mentioned in the novels. He quickly began jotting down analyses of various potions, comparing them with drugs he knew could stimulate the nervous system.

Biting his pen, he pondered the formulas for new kinds of poison, then felt like a fool for considering such complicated concoctions. Old habits die hard...

Song Jin Cheng, who wasn't a fan of fasting, went out to buy some food.

Feeling stuffy after having the windows closed for so long, Song Qing Shi limped off the bed to open the window. He then lay back on a daybed below the window, basking in the sunlight and reading while munching on some fruit.

The weather was perfect, the sun warmly beaming down. He had to cast a few cleansing spells to eliminate the mildew smell from the inn's mattress. Grapes tasted great but were too tedious to peel and deseed, so after eating a couple, he lost interest.

After reading for a long while, he rubbed his sore neck, and as he attempted to stretch, he winced from the pain in his injured ribs. Just then, he felt multiple strange gazes on him. Turning his head cautiously, he found the window sill outside packed with birds of all kinds—sparrows, larks, cuckoos—all aligned in rows, tilting their heads and curiously observing him.

This situation is unreasonable.

Song Qing Shi glanced around him, seemingly unable to find any bird food, and fell into contemplation.

Could it be that the innkeeper enjoys feeding the birds? Thus, the birds arrive punctually in search of food?

The flock suddenly dispersed, making way for a beautiful, red mythical bird that flew in from a distance. Medium in size, with golden-red wings and a long tail, its eyes a subdued gold, the bird circled him twice before landing gently on his shoulder. It chirped melodiously twice, nuzzled his cheek affectionately, and even pecked gently at his ear. Song Qing Shi felt a bit elated. He often dealt with animals in his experiments and usually had a poor rapport with them. Dogs, cats, rabbits, mice, and parrots all seemed to dislike him, though he had better luck with reptiles and other cold-blooded creatures.

He was fond of this enchanting mythical bird and cautiously scratched its face, offering it a grape to eat.

A glimmer of amusement appeared in the eyes of the mythical bird. It pecked gently at his lips and then spread its wings to soar away.

Song Qing Shi touched his lips, sinking into deep thought.

He had no memory of ever being kissed.

So, had his first kiss been stolen by a bird?

　...

Atop the Eternal Summit, seated on a golden throne entwined with countless red vines, the Divine Lord finally revealed a genuine smile for the first time: "Found it."

Over the years, his distaste for the world's filth had grown, and he rarely ventured from his sanctuary of Wu Tong Terrace.

Therefore, he used the Blood King Vine as a vessel, imbued it with his divine consciousness, and created numerous avatars and identities scattered across the world. These avatars handled or monitored troublesome elements, dealt with the more unclean aspects of the world, or carried out tasks not befitting his main form.

His avatars shared sensations with him, serving as extensions of his own body. The only difference was their weaker power.

The Divine Lord sensed the aura of phoenix blood. Regrettably, his skill had been insufficient in years past, and his soul-branding spellwork had been rudimentary. He could only locate the soul brand within a radius of a hundred miles.

For this reason, he dispatched countless birds as his eyes, frantically scouring the world. Once they found a suspicious target, he would approach for confirmation through one of his avatars.

It took a considerable amount of time and tracking, but he finally found his gem.

He thought that after three thousand years of waiting and learning patience, he could suppress the madness that came with desire. However, the moment his divine consciousness, transformed into the mythical bird, found that person, he realized that his desire was simply encased in a thin layer of ice. A single feather's fall would cause cracks in his reason, allowing molten madness to burst forth and destroy everything.

He needed to breathe and to calm down.

From Zhao Ye's soul memories, he had already confirmed what would happen to failed task-takers. Song Qing Shi would have his memories erased and be reassigned to other tasks. He thought this would be acceptable; Song Qing Shi would forget his painful past, his humiliations, as well as his own madness and terror, and start anew.

He could masquerade as a regular person, employing the gentlest and most restrained methods to gradually acquire everything he desires.

No coercion, no plundering, no fear...

He had devised countless schemes to control the world, leading the other person step-by-step into the sweet trap he had set, just as before, to fall in love with him anew. To willingly surrender their heart and body, to willingly bear all his desires, so the two could live a life of happiness and contentment ever after.

His only concern was: who exactly was Song Qing Shi's current mission target?

The mere thought of Song Qing Shi showering another target with affection filled him with murderous jealousy. Yet, to ensure the mission's success, he'd have to keep that person alive, luxuriously imprisoned within his sphere of control, before substituting himself in their place.

Every step must be taken cautiously; there could be no room for failure...

The Divine Lord forcibly quelled the madness within him and refocused his divine consciousness. Considering the injuries on Song Qing Shi, he dispatched his red mythical bird avatar to a secluded corner. There, it burst into numerous golden sparkles, only to regather and transform into a black-robed man donning a silver mask. This was one of his avatars stationed in the Valley of the Medicine King; perfectly positioned to approach and ascertain the current situation.

　...

Song Jin Cheng, carrying a heap of snacks and new storybooks, joyfully returned to the inn. Upon seeing the upright black-robed figure at the door, and the cold phoenix eyes beneath a simplistic silver mask, he was so startled that his belongings tumbled to the ground. Almost yelling out, he muttered, "Mas...?"

He clamped his mouth shut, turned his head, and contemplated fleeing, his heart filled with dread.

Why would the elder master of the Valley of the Medicine King be here?! Wasn't he supposed to be reclusive?!

Terrifying tales of the elder master raced through Song Jin Cheng's mind...

Known as Master Yue, the elder master was reputedly an ancient ascendant who had lived for thousands of years, guardian of the Valley of the Medicine King. Stern and humorless, he mostly secluded himself, venturing neither beyond his courtyard nor his front door, occupied solely with raising white mice. Thanks to him, the valley now harbored a multitude of test animals—mice, special mice, even rats, goats, and monkeys—utilized for safe pharmaceutical research before any human trials.

Song Jin Cheng had been fortunate to witness the elder master twice. The first was when a shameless senior apprentice had failed in courting a female apprentice and nearly caused a scandal. The elder master meted out public punishment, lashing him fifty times, nullifying all his cultivation, and expelling him from the valley. The second was when several seemingly talented senior apprentices criticized their founder's pill formula as flawed when they couldn't successfully refine it. The elder master effortlessly proved them wrong by successfully refining the pill, then penalized them with three lashes each, confining them to solve exercises in the rear mountain for three full years. Upon their release...each appeared shell-shocked, several even going bald.

He must remain calm...

There were thousands of apprentices and servant pharmacists in the Valley of the Medicine King. Master Yue had only seen him from afar amid the crowds; he probably wouldn't recognize him.

Song Jin Cheng bolstered himself mentally as he turned back around, attempting to quietly retreat.

Master Yue's voice calmly cut through the air: "Song Jin Cheng, halt."

"Elder...Master," stammering, Song Jin Cheng's steps froze mid-air before landing. Turning around with a sorrowful face, he sensed his stylish hair might not survive the elder master's stern gaze. Hurriedly, he knelt and pleaded, sobbing, "I was wrong, I shouldn't have skipped my studies, please spare me!"

Master Yue glanced at him disdainfully, quickly calculated the time, and used his divine consciousness to probe the interior before pushing the door open and walking in.

Song Jin Cheng hastily crawled in after him.

Just as Song Qingshi had finished reading and was about to take a sip of water to rest, he saw Song Jincheng scrambling in, fawning over a masked stranger. They seemed familiar with each other, and then he noticed the stranger was intently staring at him. Although the stranger's dark golden eyes were beautiful, they held a tinge of agony—as if wanting to consume him whole.

Why the agony? Why did he want to consume him?

It took a slow-thinking Song Qingshi quite a while before a light bulb went off in his head. He remembered his mountain of debt. Could it be…

He quickly sat up straight, confessing earnestly:

"I will pay back the money."

Repaying debts is a matter of basic integrity.

Song Qing Shi is particularly averse to being in debt, especially a life-saving debt. He earnestly tries to explain to the older man, who seems to be a senior relative of Song Jin Cheng, that he is trustworthy and would never default on medical fees. Whether it's through alchemy, adventuring, working a job, or setting up a stall, he will earn money to repay his debt!

Not eloquent in speech, he stammers his way through the explanation…

Mr. Yue's demeanor turns increasingly somber; one can feel his displeasure even through his mask.

Song Qing Shi becomes more anxious. Top-grade spirit stones are incredibly valuable currency. For a regular Qi Cultivation practitioner without exceptional opportunities or skills, earning a few dozen a year would be the limit. Song Jin Cheng is an inexperienced rich young master, and so he could afford to use an expensive elixir worth 800 spirit stones. Now, an elder has confronted him, treating him like a scam artist—what should he do?

He recalls that there are no legal protections in the cultivation world; fraudsters could be beaten to death without any recourse.

"Don't panic," Song Jin Cheng, although petrified of his elder, speaks out in defense of the anxious Song Qing Shi. "The Valley of the Medicine King would not kill someone over unpaid medical fees, and the medicine was mine. No one will hold you responsible for the medical expenses. My elder didn't come for you; he came for me..."

Mr. Yue finally turns to give this underachieving student a look: "Explain."

"I encountered this young man at Min Mountain. It was raining, and he was severely injured," Song Jin Cheng knows he can't escape punishment but tries to lighten it by demonstrating his compassion and medical skills. "I accurately diagnosed his condition and used a treasured Eight Treasures Heart-Protecting Pill to save his life. Because his injuries were serious, I stayed here to care for him. Elder, I only failed an exam and took a walk to clear my mind. I didn't run away from school!"

Failing an exam, taking one's belongings and savings, and going for a "walk" for days without sending any messages? Do you take the elders for fools?

Honesty will be rewarded with leniency; resistance will result in severity—lying will only worsen the punishment.

From the moment he heard the words "young man," Mr. Yue's aura sank further, tinged with a rising fury that seemed ready to explode.

Clueless, Song Jin Cheng continues to struggle: "Elder, I was wrong."

Song Qing Shi watches his desperate attempts at pleading for mercy and feels a sense of pity. Trying to divert the subject, he asks: "Jin Cheng, who is this person…?"

Realizing he hadn't introduced his elder, Song Jin Cheng hurriedly lavished praise on Mr. Yue, tactfully omitting his elder's peculiar fondness for raising lab mice. He described Mr. Yue as a venerable figure of great moral standing and benevolence, widely respected in the Valley of the Medicine King, hoping his flattery would earn him some leniency.

Whether it's modern medical professors or legendary pharmacologists in the cultivation world, they are all figures to be looked up to.

The more Song Qing Shi listened, the more respectful he became, adopting the posture of a junior in the presence of a senior.

Unable to tolerate any more, Mr. Yue admonished Song Jin Cheng: "Silence!"

He feared that if he continued listening, he'd lose his temper and butcher Qing Luan's junior, who he'd promised to care for, hanging the remains at the peak of Immortality.

Song Jin Cheng had no idea what he'd said wrong and closed his mouth, feeling aggrieved.

Noticing Song Qing Shi attempting to get out of bed to bow, Mr. Yue disregarded the fool, briskly stepping forward to steady him. Halting the chaotic motion, he took a deep breath and softly said, "There's no need for formalities; let me assess your injuries."

Song Qing Shi found Mr. Yue's voice captivatingly elegant, imbued with an indescribable allure that tickled his heart. It seemed familiar, yet he couldn't quite place it.

Seeing him lost in thought, Mr. Yue smiled and took the liberty of examining him with his spiritual sense.

Although prepared, Mr. Yue was still heartbroken to see Song Qing Shi's empty Dantian, missing Primordial Spirit, and multiple bone fractures, not to mention numerous injuries. He yearned to dismember Heaven and the System, the true culprits, into thousands of pieces.

The only consolation was that Song Qing Shi's body remained the same, his aptitude and inner dual fires intact. In the future, various methods could be used to restore his cultivation.

Song Qing Shi's treatment methods were impeccable but lacked the necessary medicines. Recovery would be slow, requiring him to endure many days of suffering.

Mr. Yue took out a small porcelain bottle from his sachet, poured out a pill, and placed it into Song Qing Shi's unsuspecting mouth. Before he could react, the pill melted between his lips and tongue and slid down his throat. It was a Ten-Turn Golden Marrow Spirit Pill, the best for treating physical injuries, capable of resuscitating even those at death's door.

Though he could concoct such a pill, it required the Core of a Golden Crow, a rare and ferocious spiritual beast, alongside a complex alchemy process taking several days.

The price for a Golden Crow's Core alone at auctions would be over ten thousand spirit stones, not to mention the supplementary materials costing thousands more. Plus labor costs—so, he just swallowed twenty thousand spirit stones' worth for injuries that would naturally heal over a few days?

His physical injuries started to heal, confirming the Ten-Turn Golden Marrow Spirit Pill's genuine potency.

Realizing his debt had surged by more than twenty thousand, Song Qing Shi was dumbstruck. Clinging to Mr. Yue's sleeve, he stuttered, "I'm really poor right now, it will take time to earn the spirit stones..."

Nine-Turn Blood Lotus Pills, Myriad Spirit Marrow, and numerous other elixirs—weren't they all more valuable than this little pill?

When he had sacrificed for himself in the past, had he ever hesitated?

"Don't worry, all of this is yours," Mr. Yue looked at Song Qing Shi's fearful expression and wanted to smile but couldn't. His heart was filled with bitterness. This man had once had everything but had given it all to him, leaving nothing behind when he departed. Concealing his sorrow, he softly added, "Whatever you desire, I will provide."

A hundredfold, a thousandfold, ten thousandfold—I will give it to you.

"You've been so kind to me. Do we know each other?" Song Qing Shi felt an aura of familiarity once again. Suspecting that the man before him might be the one who had given him spending money, he considered his recent conversations with Song Jin Cheng and ruled out the possibility of a biological father or relative. Taking a bold guess, he asked, "Are you my godfather?"

Mr. Yue: "???"

Song Jin Cheng's eyes widened in shock, "Elder Uncle, is he your godson?"

He had been surreptitiously observing and sensed something amiss. His elder uncle rarely showed warmth to anyone, yet now he seemed remarkably solicitous towards this young man. This, along with the freely dispensed money and medicine, made him wonder if his elder uncle had come here not to apprehend him, but to find a long-lost godson.

Saving the godson of his elder uncle would likely lessen his own impending punishment and spare his hair, right?

Song Jin Cheng felt a renewed hope for survival.

Mr. Yue turned again to give him a cold glance. He quickly assessed the situation and felt an increasing urge to execute this fool. However, Song Qing Shi's cultivation was only at the Foundation Establishment level, inadequate to control the sprawling empire that was the Valley of the Medicine King. Declaring the end of his seclusion would bring unnecessary risks. It would be best to wait until Song Qing Shi advanced to the Nascent Soul stage before returning control of the Valley.

Mr. Yue also wished to avoid reminding Song Qing Shi of anything related to Yue Wu Huan. Therefore, he planned to find alternative justifications for his generous gifts, which included spirit stones, medicinal herbs, magical treasures, and even Immortal Peak itself.

The term "godfather" was slightly provocative; he preferred it to be used casually in moments of levity, not as a serious familial term.

Fortunately, this was just an incarnation that could be discarded at any time.

Used and then conveniently disposed of when the time was right.

After much contemplation, Mr. Yue still found himself uncomfortable but decided not to chastise this fool in front of Song Qing Shi. Donning black gloves, he walked over, grabbed Song Jin Cheng by the collar, and hurled him out of the window. He commanded, "Go to the East Market's pharmacy and purchase two pounds each of tiger bone, Dan grass, and Green Spider pills! Also, buy three Fire Talismans from the West Market's rune shop! Collect five pounds of Jun Xin Spring water from Min Mountain and four ounces of lotus stamens from Mo Ming Lake. Now go!"

Song Jin Cheng found himself flung unceremoniously to the ground, grimy and in pain. Hearing the orders and noticing the late hour, he hurriedly scrambled to his feet and sprinted off to complete the tasks, fearing further penalties for tardiness.

With the noisy fellow gone, tranquility finally returned.

Mr. Yue looked into Song Qing Shi's eyes, brimming with a childlike reverence that evoked an emotional turmoil he hadn't felt for millennia. He quickly weighed his options and clarified, "No need for formalities. We're old acquaintances, not familial elders."

Song Qing Shi seemed puzzled, "A transcendent friendship?"

"Even deeper than that," Mr. Yue sighed, finding this term preferable to any muddled familial relationship. He then asked, "Qing Shi, are you experiencing any issues with your memory?"

Eager to climb the proverbial ladder, Song Qing Shi responded, "It seems I've forgotten a lot, including how we met. Could you enlighten me?"

"I'm sorry, I've been in seclusion at the Valley of the Medicine King for years and can't be certain what has transpired with you. You've just consumed a Ten-Turn Golden Marrow Spirit Pill, which might cloud your mind as it takes effect. It's best to rest." Mr. Yue apologetically smiled, lit a Sweet Dream incense stick, and casually inquired, "Can you tell me what you've forgotten?"

The Sweet Dream incense was a harmless, calming agent. Song Qing Shi sensed that Mr. Yue had modified the original formula, making him feel drowsy and foggy. He sleepily recounted the conclusions he'd drawn recently, omitting any mention of time travel and the system.

He spoke a lot, for a long time, until he lost track of what he was saying.

In a daze, he heard Mr. Yue whispering in his ear. The voice was so soft it felt like a dream: "Do you have a new mission?"

As if under hypnosis, Song Qing Shi responded truthfully: "Yes."

It seemed as if Mr. Yue had asked about the nature of the mission, but even Song Qing Shi was unclear about it. He pondered carefully for a long time for an answer...

But before he could respond, he lost consciousness and fell into a deep sleep.

Seeing him asleep, Mr. Yue removed his silver mask, revealing a beautiful face. He leaned in, gently caressing the face he had yearned for. As much as he wanted to cradle it, he feared causing harm. He was reluctant to use any harmful substances or techniques on him, so he settled for gathering some truths through a basic dream hypnosis.

Although Song Qing Shi was reluctant to disclose details, it was already enough...

The answer was within Mr. Yue's expectations.

Gently parting Song Qing Shi's clothes to inspect his injuries, Mr. Yue discovered a familiar, not fully faded, love mark near his chest. Song Qing Shi's skin was sensitive in moments of intimacy; he couldn't resist leaving distinct marks that would take several days to fade.

The faint love marks on him were in the exact spots as they were the night he had left him.

He had not gone on any redemption missions for others, nor had he taken a liking to anyone else.

He hadn't been tormented by three thousand years of yearning; he had returned to this world soon after disappearing...

A tear fell onto the faint love mark.

It was hard to say whether the feeling was one of joy or sorrow.

He had waited for far too long, so long that he couldn't articulate the depth and complexity of his emotions.

"I hate you," he murmured, leaning down to kiss the lips he'd longed for, savoring the sweet taste, repeating over and over, "I hate you, I hate you…"

He lifted his head, his face already stained with tear marks.

"But, you're back. And for that, I forgive everything."