A Guide to Self-Rescue in the Cultivation World - Chapter 13

The birds outside the window were excessively noisy. Zhou Suyao closed her eyes, blindly reached for some unknown object, and hurled it toward the window, resulting in a loud thump.

The birdsong paused briefly, but immediately, the small birds outside started chirping noisily again.

She struggled to sit up and close the window.

But she was just so tired!

Her eyelids felt as heavy as two mountains. Every time she tried to open her eyes, they would slowly, and without warning, drift shut again in less than three seconds.

Beneath her was a soft mattress she didn’t know when or who had changed it, and it was simply too comfortable. She surrendered almost immediately, her consciousness quickly sinking.

She entered a brief, chaotic dream.

She saw Xuan Yangming’s twisted face, the overwhelming resentment and grief of the Demon Race, and Ning Qinggui, who stared calmly into her eyes with a placid expression. The next second, Ning Qinggui transformed back into her hideous form from the Underworld, lunging as if to tear her to shreds.

Countless chaotic, sharp images collided in the darkness until they finally settled on the solitary back figure by the weeping willow near the lake.

“Eldest Senior Brother!”

She cried out, instinctively leaping forward, trying to grasp that century-old phantom.

But the next moment, she woke up.

Her hand was still suspended in the air, maintaining the posture of trying to grab something, but the emptiness in her hand forced her to face reality.

It truly was just a dream, a chaotic, unreal delusion.

Fine.

Zhou Suyao thought.

She withdrew her hand, forcibly suppressed the strange emotions in her heart, and slowly lifted her eyelids.

Her sight met the familiar scene: the dark brown ceiling beams, marked with years of smoke and fire; the few thin rays of morning light squeezing through the seams of the paper-covered window lattice; and the faint scent of dry dust and bitter herbs floating in the air—all telling her that the deep pain and the unrelated past could, for the time being, be set aside.

Here, at the Path to Immortality Sect, she was at least safe…

Wasn’t she?

“Creak.”

The door was pushed open without ceremony, bringing with it a gust of cold morning air and a startlingly loud yell.

“Well, well! The salted fish has flipped! Decided to open your eyes?”

Third Senior Brother Zhou Zonglan’s booming voice was too iconic. Zhou Suyao heard him before she saw him.

He was carrying a steaming, cauldron-sized bowl of herbal soup so intensely medicinal it could kill mosquitoes. He shuffled over to her bedside, three steps a wobble, his face set in his usual teasing grin. “What’s this, only seven days? I thought you were going to hibernate like the bears up the back mountain until next spring.”

He thrust the bowl toward Zhou Suyao and said in an absolute tone, “Hurry up, drink it while it’s hot! The eldest Senior Brother personally watched the fire while it simmered. Don’t leave a single drop!”

Behind him, Second Senior Brother Qu Mingu leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed. He maintained his perpetually gloomy expression, looking as if the whole world owed him money. However, the deep concern in his eyes quietly faded the moment he saw her sit up, morphing into a cold snort: “Now that you’re awake, get up and move around. Don’t lie there like a lump of mud. Do you know your mountain peak is practically drowning in bird droppings? Even Wangcai won’t go dig holes there anymore.”

“Oh, goodness!” Zhou Suyao raised both hands in surrender, forcefully suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. “My Lords and Elders, just let me have a few days of peace! The smell of medicine makes me want to vomit!”

“Peace?!” Zhou Zonglan’s eyes widened theatrically. He dumped the medicine bowl onto the small, rickety table beside her bed and immediately wailed, “My dear little Ancestor, do you know that in the seven days you were unconscious, Master nearly boiled a hole in the bottom of the pot? If not for Young Master Qi locking Xuan Yangming in the RaoTian Dao prison, the Master would have chopped him into mincemeat! Even Wangcai has lost weight! If you didn’t wake up, Second Senior Brother and I would have gone down the mountain to jump ropes to summon your soul, you sacred granny!”

This barrage of verbal artillery left her momentarily stunned until Second Senior Brother impatiently tsk’d and said, “Too much nonsense. Drink the medicine.”

Concise and non-negotiable.

Zhou Suyao sighed in resignation. Knowing this bowl of “good medicine” was absolutely unavoidable, she slowly reached out to take the piping hot soup. But the moment her fingertip touched the bowl, she flinched from the heat.

“Oh, my little Ancestor!” Zhou Zonglan cried out frantically, instantly grabbing the bowl. “You’re too precious! I’ll do it, I’ll hold it for you!”

The Second Senior Brother behind them sighed heavily, turning his face away in disgust. “Zhou Zonglan, if you keep spoiling her like this, you’ll end up having to sweep the bird droppings too.”

“I don’t care! It’s none of your business!”

Zhou Zonglan shook his head and made a face at Second Senior Brother. Then he carefully cradled the bowl, brought it to Zhou Suyao’s lips, and exaggeratedly blew on it. “Little Ancestor, come on, open up. Careful, it’s hot. Ah.”

In the midst of this chaotic but undeniably affectionate atmosphere, the light at the doorway was silently blocked by a tall, slender figure.

Eldest Senior Brother, Zhou Shenyuan, was standing there.

He was still wearing his simple pale-green robe, but his figure was noticeably thinner than before she had fainted. The wide sleeves hung empty, as if a single breeze could carry him away.

His face was completely devoid of color, like fine white porcelain, possessing a fragile transparency that made the dark circles under his eyes even more prominent. His ink-black hair was loosely tied up with a simple peachwood hairpin. The stray wisps that wouldn’t stay up fell around his cheeks, making him look even more gaunt.

In his hand, he habitually held a small, freshly broken peach branch, its tip carrying the scent of wood and fresh shavings.

His arrival was like the sudden melting of snow, instantly extinguishing Zhou Zonglan’s noise in the room. Even the air seemed to freeze for a moment.

Zhou Zonglan, holding the medicine bowl by the bed, paused with his hands mid-air, his eyes darting between him and Zhou Suyao. He opened his mouth to speak, but was glared down by Qu Mingu.

The room fell into a deathly silence.

It wasn’t until a long moment later that Eldest Senior Brother slowly spoke. His voice was deep and pleasant, like the gentle tapping of jade, but it was also hoarser and weaker than usual. “Good that you’re awake. Drink the medicine while it’s hot. It’ll be even more bitter when it’s cold.”

The words were like a small stove. Though not overly warm, they at least melted some of the frozen atmosphere in the room. Zhou Zonglan instantly felt like he had received the highest instruction. He quickly pushed the bowl closer to Zhou Suyao’s mouth and said, “Hear that? The Eldest Senior Brother spoke! Hurry and drink it. I’ll go get you some preserved fruit. Drink it quickly, or the medicine will be so cold that even the fruit won’t cut the bitterness.”

With that, he shoved the medicine bowl into Zhou Suyao’s hands, got up, and pulled Qu Mingu with him to flee.

Qu Mingu didn’t know what his little brother was up to, but he couldn’t resist the brute force. He was practically dragged out of the cabin, though he didn’t forget to turn back and frown at Zhou Suyao, urging, “Drink it now!”

The door closed with a creak, instantly cutting off the faint morning light and the relieving clamor outside.

The small cabin immediately quieted, leaving only the thick, bitter scent of the medicine permeating the air, and the figure… standing there, seeming less approachable than before… the Eldest Senior Brother.

Zhou Suyao held the still-warm soup. The heat on her fingertips seemed to be suppressed by a deeper chill. She kept her head down, looking at her reflection in the soup, her thoughts a mess.

Eldest Senior Brother’s eyes… and that chilling divinity that made one afraid to approach… was it her delusion?

It must be a delusion… it must be fragmented memories left over from her nightmare…

How could her gentle Eldest Senior Brother have a side that was so cold one dared not approach? And how could he stand by and watch the annihilation of the Demon Race?

So the person she saw must not have been Eldest Senior Brother, but… someone who resembled him… it had to be…

Did it?

Her mind was in turmoil. She could only clench the bowl tightly, letting the still-warm rim scald her palm, bringing a sense of real pain to try and dispel that unreality and unease.

At the doorway, Zhou Shenyuan did not immediately leave. He remained standing there quietly, his gaze fixed on the top of her bowed head, deep fatigue hidden within his eyes.

He didn’t rush her to drink the medicine again, simply standing like a silent, fragile jade Guanyin statue, exuding an air of aloofness and weakness.

After a long time, so long that Zhou Suyao felt the medicinal soup in her hands had cooled, so long that she thought he had silently left, she heard his low, hoarse voice speak slowly again. It was softer than before, carrying a barely noticeable sigh.

“When the medicine cools, not only does it taste bitter, but its efficacy weakens. It would have only taken two days of drinking, but now it will take a week.”

Zhou Suyao trembled violently. Almost reflexively, she raised the bowl, held her breath, and downed the bowl of scalp-numbingly bitter medicine in one go.

The intense bitterness instantly flooded her mouth, rushing to her brain, choking her into a violent coughing fit that brought tears to her eyes.

“Cough… cough, cough… I finished it…”

“Mhm.”

A very soft reply came from the doorway. He seemed to stand silently for another moment before slowly turning and leaving without a sound.

Unnoticed by Zhou Suyao, the simple but fresh peach branch in his hand trembled slightly, and a few pink petals silently drifted down.

The Calm Before the Storm

Over the next few days, the Path to Immortality Sect seemed to return to some semblance of normalcy.

Master still spent his days lying on his peak, picking at his feet, either playing with his dog or going down to the village to pet the villagers’ cats. Occasionally, he would run over to Eldest Senior Brother’s peak, pick a basket of peach blossoms to make peach blossom cakes, and then shout at Eldest Senior Brother’s closed door, “Suyao said she’s tired of peach blossom cake! Why don’t you switch to osmanthus?”

The Second Senior Brother began a ruthless rehabilitation regimen for Zhou Suyao. He would drag her out of her soft bed before dawn, forcing her to jog around the mountain peak, calling it “medicine is three parts poison slow jogging forces out sweat, moves the joints, and disperses the medicine’s power.” In reality, Zhou Suyao was running until her vision blurred, and then had to practice a set of fundamental spiritual qi techniques Eldest Senior Brother had taught years ago. If she dared to slack off, he would shoot her a piercing look and say, “Fine, stop practicing. Go back to your quilt and hibernate.”

Third Senior Brother continued his role as the perfect peacemaker. Whenever Qu Mingu pushed her to the point of collapse, he would “happen” to appear with fruit and refreshing snacks, shoving food into Zhou Suyao’s hand while grinning at Second Senior Brother, “Aiya, Second Senior Brother, that’s enough! Little Sister just woke up. Everything in moderation, right? Come on, here’s some sweet water. I made it just for you, white fungus and lotus seed soup.”

At these times, Zhou Suyao would happily slip away, waiting for Third Senior Brother to distract Second Senior Brother. She would quickly find a cool spot to hide, sipping the watermelon juice Third Senior Brother personally squeezed for her, while gazing into the distance toward Eldest Senior Brother’s peak.

Since the day she woke up, she had only seen Eldest Senior Brother once. The rest of the time, he remained secluded, mostly staying in his bamboo hut. Only in the evenings would he occasionally appear by the stone table outside the hut, sitting quietly. The setting sun’s afterglow would fall on his porcelain-like profile, coating him in a warm golden light, making him appear as peaceful as a still mountain spring.

For several days, Zhou Suyao hid among the newly flourishing peach blossoms, watching him from afar. Watching his lowered gaze and the gentle way he always looked when calmly preparing tea, almost made her believe that the man who emotionlessly sliced open his own palm, the one whose golden eyes brought overwhelming suffocation, was truly just an illusion she had seen while disoriented after her severe injuries.

And that Zhou Shenyuan, her Eldest Senior Brother, was still the gentle, powerful protector of all of them.

Yet, deep within her heart, there was a lingering shadow, like a gloomy vine growing from an ancient tree, tightly coiling around her.

The Final Confirmation

It wasn’t until this evening, after being tormented by Qu Mingu and then stuffed full of pastries by Zhou Zonglan, that she was inexplicably drawn. Instead of returning immediately to her own small hut, she turned her steps toward Eldest Senior Brother’s peak.

The setting sun was perfect then, its afterglow setting the peach forest ablaze with gold. Zhou Suyao swept her hand through the flourishing peach blossoms, and just ahead, she saw Zhou Shenyuan indeed sitting by the stone table in front of the bamboo hut.

He was facing away from her direction, his head slightly bowed. He seemed to be carving something in his hand, making a faint, rhythmic sanding sound.

Seeing this serene scene, Zhou Suyao softened her steps. She didn’t want to disturb the moment, so she stopped by a nearby, fully-bloomed peach tree, quietly watching his back.

As she watched, the anxiety in her heart seemed to be soothed by the tranquility. Maybe… maybe she was just overthinking things.

Xuan Yangming was controlled by the RaoTian Dao, and the truth of the Underworld was public. Although Eldest Senior Brother was not fully recovered from his injuries, the fact that he was calmly carving was, all things considered, a good sign.

It was then that Zhou Shenyuan seemed to finish that particular cut. He gently raised the peach branch in his hand, holding it up to the setting sun’s light, as if examining whether the branch’s form perfectly matched what he had envisioned.

The action was natural and ordinary.

But the instant he raised his hand, Zhou Suyao’s eyes snapped to his.

Those eyes were distinctly golden!