The Thousand-Layer Schemes of the Sickly Beautiful Master - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“I heard Qing’s wife is pregnant.”

The woman bent over, her pant legs rolled up to her knees, her feet stuck in the mud with the rice seedlings, soaked in water. She paused to wipe her sweat and casually said this.

The other farm women faced the ground. “No wonder she hasn’t been out working.”

“Everyone knows it’s not her husband’s.”

A slightly younger wife looked shocked and glared back at the voice. “Sister Su is a good woman. Why talk nonsense?”

“Scholar Qing is weak and sickly. Your aunt watched him grow up. The doctor checked him. He can’t have children. He’s fated to be childless.”

Their dark faces showed a faint smile. Life was hard, especially for women. After long suffering, everything felt dull. They didn’t smile at beautiful mountains or good deeds but found joy when someone’s home was in chaos. It made their poor lives seem a bit better, so they felt happy.

With this small bit of joy, even a life full of troubles didn’t seem so bad. They could keep going.

Village gossip spread from one straw hut to another, finally stopping at a much grander brick house.

Qing Sheng helped his wife up. His eyes fixed on her growing belly, worried she might bump into the table corner.

Though not young, her frame was as delicate as a willow, gentle and frail, unlike the rough, sturdy village women. Pregnancy made her fuller and fairer, but her beauty remained.

She was refined, and her hands were too. With quick movements, she could embroider fish and animals on silk, so lifelike even their eyes seemed real. This skill earned enough money for a small brick house.

Such a remarkable woman didn’t belong in this place. She seemed like a lady from a grand house, meant to marry someone noble.

But she only married an ordinary scholar. Ordinary family, ordinary poverty, ordinary studies. The only extraordinary thing was his gentle heart, more tender than most men.

Scholar Qing was indeed fated to be childless. Since the first time he bathed naked in the river and was seen, the whole village knew.

His bathing was a joke, his marriage an even bigger one. But when his beautiful new wife appeared the next day, everyone went silent.

Years later, when news of her pregnancy spread, the laughter returned, fueled by gossip.

Scholar Qing was used to being mocked. He knew his wife wasn’t that kind of person. But knowing didn’t stop the crow-like chatter that brought bad luck. So during Su Wan’s pregnancy, he quit his teaching job to stay home with her, avoiding the outside world.

Su Wan was happy, despite her ruined reputation in the gossip. She believed it was heaven’s will, and this child was a lucky star reborn.

Scholar Qing thought the same.

But when that baby girl was born, she took away his only luck.

That day, her mother bled for a day and night, dying after hearing the baby’s cry. Scholar Qing wrapped the warm, tiny life in white cloth and his cooling wife in white cloth. He stood alone, stunned. It was a new life, yet his family was draped in mourning.

That day, he was reading Du Fu’s last poem: “Shore winds stir evening waves, boat snow dusts the cold lamp.”

Qing Zhuxue.

The child was born in sorrow, her name carrying a chill. Father and daughter lived together in that quiet house. One grew old, the other grew up. With the little money from teaching, life wasn’t rich but not too poor.

Years later, an ordinary morning broke their peace.

“Bastard!”

The Wang boy from the village entrance was always arrogant. Hearing this girl’s mother had cheated to have her, he felt contempt and wanted to bully her.

He climbed the wall and threw mud at the girl reading at home. Qing Zhuxue tilted her head, dodging it. The wall was slippery, and with one glance from her, the Wang boy fell with a crash, a tile piercing his forehead. He twitched once or twice and stopped moving.

Qing Zhuxue went out and saw bl00d pooling under him. She frowned, unsure what to do. Just then, her father returned from teaching, shocked, dropping his books.

“What happened?”

“He fell himself. His foot slipped.”

The Wang family came, cursing and crying, making the whole village know. Though the investigation cleared the Qing family, they paid some silver to settle it.

The incident was called a coincidence and faded. But from that day, Qing Zhuxue sensed something was wrong.

When she went to the market with her father, the butcher’s knife slipped and flew at her. Her eyes widened, but the blade didn’t hit her. It fell and cut someone else’s foot.

At the schoolhouse, before she learned much, the roof beam collapsed. It only hit desks and scared some children. They found termites later, so it seemed unrelated to her.

She picked wild vegetables by the river near the village. After a day without rain, it poured just as she pulled the first plant, causing a flood that drowned half the village. A natural disaster, so it wasn’t her fault.

But these incidents kept happening, always around Qing Zhuxue. People couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Curses and shame followed.

Then fear and avoidance.

The school shut down because of this “disaster star,” and students left. Scholar Qing lost his only income, and life grew harder. He was once refined, but life’s grind wore it away, leaving only weary lines on his face.

“Daughter.” He placed his hand on Qing Zhuxue’s head, seeing her face grow as thin as his.

He searched for his late wife’s shadow in her, but she didn’t look like Su Wan. Su Wan was gentle and elegant, while this small-faced child already showed a distant coldness.

She didn’t resemble her mother or him. Where did she come from? Why was she born into a family already full of hardship, tearing husband and wife apart, leaving his later years so lonely and poor?

Scholar Qing had felt resentment.

When he first held her, his hands shook, wanting to throw away this life-taking child.

But her dark, clear eyes looked at him, full of innocence.

Those eyes reminded him of Su Wan.

Before she died, she held his hand, too weak to speak. Her trembling eyes, like a clear pool, begged something at the edge of death.

What could a woman who just gave birth want? What regret could she have?

Qing Sheng understood without words.

“They say a tree dies when moved, but a person lives.” His eyes reddened, his hand on her head trembling. “It’s not right for you to stay here now. I heard of a place called Taichu Realm where immortals live. Let’s find them to check your fate, okay?”

“Okay.”

She was young but sensible. She pressed her lips and nodded lightly.

Scholar Qing sold all their belongings, hired a rickety cart, and set off with his little disaster star. Through wind and rain, they followed a direction and one foggy noon, they saw the grand immortal mountain.

They settled in a small town at the base called Taichu Town, its name bold on a stone, claiming the mountain’s prestige.

Scholar Qing took his daughter to a local inn, spending their little money on a good meal.

At the tailor’s, he had her measured for new clothes. Their wealth was gone.

“Father.” The girl touched the smooth fabric. “Is it New Year?”

Only during New Year did they eat meat or make new clothes. She linked these to the festival.

“No, it’s far from New Year.” He shook his head and smiled. “I don’t know if immortals care about looks, but being proper can’t hurt. Maybe they’ll see your fine bones and take you as a disciple. Would you go?”

Qing Zhuxue thought for a moment. “Yes. If I stay with you, I’ll harm you eventually.”

“Let it harm.” He didn’t mind and smiled. “Your mother and I might reunite. But she’d blame me for not caring for you.”

The next day, the path up the mountain was bright and safe. Qing Sheng looked at the sky, tested the ground, and led his daughter carefully.

First step, all was well.

Second step, clear and sunny.

The next steps had no trouble.

“You stayed home and met few people.” He held her small hand. “When you meet strangers, be polite and graceful, so they won’t look down on you.”

“You have enough clothes. Change and wash them. A girl should keep herself clean.”

“Eat well too. This is an immortal realm, so it won’t be worse than before.”

Qing Zhuxue noticed her father’s nagging. She vaguely sensed he wasn’t just here to check her fate but to entrust her to someone.

A frail scholar raising such a special child knew the struggle. Finding a master might be best for her.

The Taichu Realm gate had 999 steps. Qing Zhuxue counted them to focus. She clearly remembered step 723.

Even years later, she didn’t forget.

At step 723, a boulder the size of five people rolled down, like a small mountain, rushing at Qing Zhuxue with dust.

The wind roared, and she closed her eyes. Someone pushed her, and being small, she rolled forward a few times.

Dizzy, her forehead hit a stone, but the roll softened the impact, only slightly breaking the skin.

The smell of bl00d spread.

When the dust settled, the steps were broken. Qing Zhuxue endured the pain, opened her eyes, but in the haze, she couldn’t find that familiar, unheroic figure.

Only a single broken shoe lay on the ground, no bl00d in sight.

Qing Zhuxue stood shakily and walked to the cliff’s edge. Below was a vast drop. The boulder’s crash echoed like thunder, numbing her scalp.

In the vast sea of clouds, she was suddenly alone.