QT: Don't fall in love with the Male Lead

Chapter 75: Don't startle your disciple



Chapter 75: Don't startle your disciple

Right, cultivation. Xianxia. Xi Zirui has heard about it, read some novels, seen some tv shows. He knows about it, mostly by osmosis. He's not counting 'Demonic Sect Leader, I'll make you fall in love with me', in those numbers, absolutely not.

There's one thing he knows for certain: being a Shizun is a high risk occupation.

Ni Ni chimes. "Host is right! One of his disciples will have to kill him to advance their cultivation. Host will have to discover who!"

That doesn't sound great for Xi Zirui's chances of surviving yet another world. 

But more importantly, it also sounds like bullshit. "'One of my disciples' are you saying that because you don't know which one it is?"

A chime. "Host is correct, Ni Ni apologizes for her incompetence."

Well, an apology is more than he's had thus far. "Is one of my disciples Su Xueyi? Because that would narrow it down."

"No."

Xi Zirui lets out an exasperated sigh. "Fine, keep your secrets." 

He wonders if all systems are as unyielding as Ni Ni, who at times seems to genuinely want to help him, and yet appears to have an own agenda he isn't privy to.

With a groan, Xi Zirui gets up from the rock, his sore body protesting the sudden movement, and goes about finding a way out of the damp cave. 

His wide sleeves are so long as to almost drag on the floor, and the hem of his pristine white robes is an hairsbreadth away from the dirty cave floor. Trying not to get his robes dirty with every step is going to give him a migraine.

"Host mustn't worry. He's a beautiful, ethereal, immortal cultivator, the dust of the mortal world doesn't stick to him."

Experimentally, he plonks his entire foot in the next puddle he comes across. 

Neither his boots nor the hem of his rubs get muddied, but his foot is completely soaked.

"Host...not being dirtied by the dust of the mortal world, doesn't mean not getting wet."

She could have told him that sooner. How is he supposed to know what being an immortal cultivator entails? He has always liked wuxia better. 

"Do I have martial arts skills?" he asks, patting his robes in search of any weapons. Cultivators usually have swords, right?

He finds a folding fan hidden under his waist sash. The fan is made of lacquered wood and creamy smooth paper, decorated with a scene of cranes in flight across a red setting sun.

It immediately reminds him of the fan he used to carry everywhere back when he was Xi-fei.

Some curious, tender pain tugs at his insides. As odd as it is, he feels bereft of that life he'll never get back. Of all his lives.

He'll never be Xi Zirui the actor again, or the Imperial concubine, or the CEO's husband. 

He keeps going through these worlds, and for a moment, they're his home. Some part of him stays behind. 

Leaving a life behind isn't as easy as putting on new clothes in the morning. He's invariably changed with each life he lives. For better and worse.

One thing gives him the strength to go on: the unshakable belief that Han Yu is it for him.

Xi Zirui has never spent much time wondering if there is a perfect match for everyone out there, but he has no doubt he has found his.

And if to be together he must endure this Sisyphean trial, so be it.

"That fan is one of the original's spirit weapons, 'Sorrow Untold'," Ni Ni says.

Xi Zirui flips the fan around between his fingers, and on the other face finds the inscription: "The Heavens are far, the road is long, bitter flies my spirit" (1).

Ugh, what a dismal little verse. 

"Tell me about this Xi Zirui," he says, continuing on through the winding cave and trying to ignore his soggy foot. "I want to know how bad it's going to be."

---

By the time he finally reaches the cave's opening, he has a pretty clear picture of exactly what he's dealing with.

The original is an incredibly powerful cultivator, who is said to be blessed by the Gods themselves. His cultivation level is extremely advanced, and he is his sect's greatest asset. 

His two disciples were personally handpicked by Heavenly Dragon's sect leader himself. 

For one reason, and one reason only: so that the original couldn't ruin actually talented disciples.

Despite his outstanding skills, the original lived in fear of being surpassed by someone of the younger generation, and that his name as one of the greatest cultivators in Jianghu would be forgotten.

Knowing this, the sect leader assigned him the two least promising disciples in the sect, knowing full well the original would never dote on them, train them to their fullest potential, or take pride in their achievements.

Xi Zirui doesn't have a strong impression of the last xianxia novel he read, but he's pretty sure that the careless master who belittles his disciples ends up dead.

"Has no one told this bastard that filial pity goes both ways?" Xi Zirui groans, crawling out of the small cave opening, on his hands and knees.

Very undignified for such a great grandmaster.

"What was he doing in the cave again?"

"Answering Host: The original spent the previous three years in secluded cultivation to overcome a bottleneck and reach an even higher level of cultivation. He is now as powerful as the Heavenly Dragon's sect leader."

Well shit. "I bet the sect leader is thrilled about that."

Ni Ni stays silent for a suspiciously long beat. "Unclear."

The cave opens up into the base of a mountain, mere feet away from a crystal clear stream. Next to the cave's mouth sits a bamboo raft perched against the rocky outcropping. 

Xi Zirui picks it up and eyes the river cautiously. 

"Am I meant to take this?"

"Answering Host: Yes. The original sailed up to this cave using that raft, if Host sails it downstream he will reach the grounds of Heavenly Dragon sect."

How is he supposed to balance himself with no paddle and a swift current?

"Host should use his qi to steady the raft on the waters."

Right, how hard can it be?

---

Very. It turns out.

Xi Zirui tries his best to control his flow of qi, or whatever, but the best he can do is feel a stabbing pain beneath his diaphragm and release a wave of energy that sends an electric current down his spine.

The only thing that achieves is making him more unstable, constantly on the verge of loosing his footing and falling face first into the river.

In the end he lays down on the raft, and spreads out his limbs like a starfish, trying to cover the most surface area as possible and keep the raft steady through the currents floating it this way and that.

He mostly succeeds.

The landscape all around him his breathtaking, lush greenery as far as the eye can see, large parasol trees doting the river margins, until the riverbed widens and spits him out into a huge lake, appearing like a dream from behind the thick canopies of the parasol trees.

In the distance he sees a complex of buildings. Charming wooden buildings with a mixture of tiled and thatched roofs, built on stilts above the lake, near its east margin.

Heavenly Dragon sect. Appropriate location, considering the name. 

"Informing Host: there are no dragons living in the river, or the nearby waterfall," Ni Ni chimes.

That sounds ominous. "What about in other rivers or waterfalls?"

Ni Ni doesn't answer him, which absolutely doesn't bode well.

Xi Zirui tries to use his qi to direct the raft towards the sect grounds. He holds up his palm sideways, perpendicularly to his chest like he has seen characters do on tv shows, and hopes it helps.

It doesn't.

Qi comes out of him in erratic bursts making the raft sway in every direction despite the quiet waters.

When he's almost reaching the pier, he loses complete control of his qi and goes flying out of the raft and straight into the wooden beams.

His undignified landing attracts the attention of a couple of disciples stationed nearby, who come running towards him.

"M-Master Xi?" One of them, a young boy no older than fourteen, and wearing white and pale teal robes seems torn between his desire to help him up and his paralyzing fear of touching him.

His sect brother is likewise stumped, hovering awkwardly at an angle as Xi Zirui disentangles himself from his robes, but not really doing anything to help.

They trade worried looks between each other, as Xi Zirui gets up to his feet and smooths the front of his robes.

He's mortified. He unfolds Untold Sorrows in front of his face and hides himself behind it.

"Go call one of this Master's disciples to escort him!" Xi Zirui says, with as much authority as his current predicament allows him.

Both of the young Heavenly Dragons scramble to run up the pier and into the sect proper, their swords clutched tightly in their fists.

While he doesn't have the lay of the land, he'd rather not walk into the sect grounds looking like a lost lamb, lest anyone assume he's going through qi deviation.

The two disciples return moments later, followed by someone taller and older than both of them.

Xi Zirui's breath catches in his throat as soon as he recognizes him.

Han Yu looks as beautiful as ever, his raven-wing black hair cascades down his back in a sleek waterfall, the upper half of it tied up in a full pony-tail, some shorter, loose strands framing his face. His jade-like features are sharper and more refined than ever, the upwards slant of his phoenix eyes draws Xi Zirui in like a whirlpool. He could drown himself in that fierce gaze and never surface.

His lush lips, usually so red and inviting are pressed into a thin bloodless line, the muscles on his angular jaw are taut with tension.

It takes Xi Zirui a moment to realize that Han Yu isn't happy to see him.

Considering what Ni Ni told him, he shouldn't be surprised, but the coldness in Han Yu's eyes still stings. Especially considering how loving their last moments in the previous world were.

He's wearing the same teal and white robes as the younger disciples, except the sash around his waist is a deeper blue than theirs, and from it hangs a beautiful carved white jade ornament with silk teal tassels.

He circles his arms in front of his chest, bowing formally to Xi Zirui. "This unworthy disciple apologizes for not greeting Shizun as soon as he came out of seclusion." He speaks with his head lowered and eyes trained on the wooden pier. "We didn't expect Shizun for another year."

Right. Well he doesn't have an explanation for that.

As usual, neither does Ni Ni.

"I've managed to overcome the bottleneck sooner than anticipated."

Han Yu lowers his neck again in formal bow. "Congratulations to Shizun. Shizun's skills are indeed great."

He's speaking so coldly, it's as if there's a wall of ice between them.

Xi Zirui preferred it when he called him a whore.

"Your Shizun is tired, escort him to his rooms," Xi Zirui says, hiding himself behind his fan.

It's barely noticeable, but one of Han Yu's eyebrows crooks upwards in surprise.

Xi Zirui takes it the original wouldn't have asked for something like that.

With one last glance at him, Han Yu turns on his heel and marches along the pier towards the sect gates, his back ramrod straight.

Xi Zirui watches the elegant lines of his back and sighs listlessly. Things can never be easy for the two of them, there must always be hurdles in their path.

He's so distracted by his own thoughts that he walks into Han Yu's back.

He looks around Han Yu's shoulder to see what made him stop in his tracks and notices the terrified disciple running towards them, her robes in disarray and splattered with red.

"Shixiong! Something terrible has happened! Sect leader has disappeared!"

---

(1) This verse is from a poem by Li Bai "Long Yearning". Every time I write xianxia I go read some poetry to get in the mood. I did the same for the Concubine Xi arc.


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