Chapter 9

Yue Wuhuan stood in the Medicine King Valley’s archives, surrounded by precious immortal cultivation manuals and arcane texts, feeling as though he had stumbled into a treasure trove.

Both Song Qingshi and his original self were the type to disregard mundane matters. The archives, a restricted area, had no medicine attendants to clean it, leaving books and objects scattered haphazardly. Only Song Qingshi knew their true locations. After bringing Yue Wuhuan inside, Song Qingshi instructed him to tidy the desk while he searched for the books he needed.

Yue Wuhuan reluctantly tore his gaze from the books and looked towards the *luohan bed* by the window. A low table in the center of the bed was piled high with hundreds of books, dried ink, and stacks of *xuan* paper covered in scribbled corrections—apparently the Master's usual spot for reading and resting.

He walked over and, resigned, began organizing the books one by one, neatly placing them aside. Suddenly, he discovered a tattered copy of *Nie's Poison Classic* hidden among them. Yue Wuhuan's breath hitched. He realized that "Nie" referred to the infamous Venomous Sovereign Nie Jue, who, thousands of years ago, had slaughtered countless lives and struck terror into the hearts of the righteous. This book likely contained records of the Venomous Sovereign's various deadly formulas.

Yue Wuhuan stole a glance at Song Qingshi, who seemed oblivious to his actions, and quietly flipped open the book. To his delight, the very first entry was the recipe for the *Thousand Mechanisms Powder*, the poison that had made Nie Jue infamous—a colorless, odorless substance capable of killing cultivators below the Nascent Soul realm...

This method of killing, requiring no cultivation base, was precisely what he had desperately sought but failed to obtain at the Golden Phoenix Estate.

Yue Wuhuan quickly skimmed through the pages, committing the formulas to memory.

Thousand Mechanisms Powder, Soul-Devouring Fragrance, Puppet Pill...

Each poison was a sharpened blade.

The killing intent he had long suppressed surged like a tidal wave, stirring his thoughts. Countless cruel methods of using these poisons flashed through his mind.

No one knew that his heart had long been forged into a demon's heart in the depths of hell, yearning for rivers of blood and mountains of bones. What he wished to destroy was not himself, but the entire filthy world—himself included.

"This book isn't suitable for you," Song Qingshi's voice came from behind.

Yue Wuhuan gently closed the book and casually placed it back on the pile of books on the table. Then, as if nothing had happened, he turned around, his face once again wearing an obedient expression as he offered his prepared excuse: "It's too old. The pages came loose while I was tidying. Please forgive this unworthy one, Master."

Song Qingshi set down the stack of books in his arms, picked up the poison manual, and flipped through a few pages, confirming that some pages had indeed come loose.

Yue Wuhuan lowered his head, staring at the ground, his palms slightly damp with sweat, his heart pounding with tension.

"Your foundation is still weak. It's too early for you to study this book," Song Qingshi said, completely unaware of his thoughts, quickly dismissing the matter and patiently guiding him. "Toxicology and pharmacology are interconnected. You must start by learning to identify medicinal herbs—for example, Celestial Grass Seeds and Swallowtail Orchid Seeds look nearly identical, but their toxicity differs greatly. Using the wrong one could lead to serious problems in efficacy. So, you should first study basic herbals, learn to recognize herbs, familiarize yourself with their properties, then move on to pill refining and medicine preparation. Only after that should you attempt to study this poison manual."

Yue Wuhuan abruptly looked up, disbelief in his voice. "I... I can study the poison manual?"

"Why not?" Song Qingshi was puzzled. After a moment's thought, he shoved *Nie's Poison Classic* into Wuhuan's hands and reassured him, "I think you should be more confident. The contents of this book aren't that difficult. With your intelligence, you'll master it quickly. Just be extremely careful during the refining process—many of the ingredients must not come into contact with skin, and some can even infect through the air... If you don’t understand anything, you can ask me anytime."

Was confidence really the issue here?

Yue Wuhuan was utterly stunned, as if hit by a gift from heaven, unable to speak for a long time.

Oblivious, Song Qingshi continued showering him with more "pies": "If you're interested in poisons, it's best to study mechanized traps and formations as well. Poisons are much more effective when applied strategically. Later, I’ll gather all the relevant books for you. You can also use my laboratory..."

Yue Wuhuan couldn’t hold back any longer and interrupted the enthusiastic man before him: "Haven’t you considered what I might use these for?"

"I know," Song Qingshi's eyes shone with approval. He had long been troubled by the *bottom protagonist's* overly kind and easily bullied nature—like a beautiful flower with no means of self-defense, left to be plucked at will. He was also deeply worried that the System might extract him from this world after completing the mission, leaving Wuhuan without protection and vulnerable to falling back into the abyss. He said earnestly, "Wuhuan, don’t be afraid. Your beauty isn’t your fault—it’s the fault of those beasts. Magic artifacts, poisons, hidden weapons... If the cultivation world is truly a realm where the strong devour the weak, then you must have the means to protect yourself, to ensure no one can ever harm you again."

"Is it wrong not to want to be violated?"

"Is it wrong not to want to be bullied?"

"Is it wrong not to want to do things you despise?"

A gentle breeze drifted through the window, carrying a clean, crisp scent. The faint medicinal aroma in the air stirred something in his heart.

Yue Wuhuan listened in a daze to words no one had ever spoken to him before—each sentence felt like a dream.

"From now on, I won’t let this world humiliate you ever again."

***

Learning required mutual discussion and progress.

Song Qingshi loved having research companions, especially brilliant ones who could match his intellect. The professor he had followed was a world-renowned medical authority, and his senior brothers and sisters were all peerless talents. He deeply missed the golden days of studying and conducting experiments together with them.

Wuhuan had a brilliant mind, was diligent, and eager to learn. What more could one ask for in a study companion?

*Song Xueba* was overjoyed. He helped clear the unnecessary books from the *luohan bed*, wiped the table clean, cast several purification charms, set out *spirit tea* and an assortment of pastries, lit some mind-clearing incense, and then pulled Wuhuan to sit on either side of the table as they began reading.

Yue Wuhuan’s heart was in turmoil. He secretly observed the other man from the corner of his eye for a long time, confirming that Song Qingshi was indeed absorbed in his book with no ulterior motives. Gradually, he relaxed and quietly lost himself in reading as well.

At some point, dark clouds blotted out the sun, and raindrops drummed against the eaves, composing a rhythmic melody. The damp wind carried a chill through the window, brushing against the readers inside. Yue Wuhuan soon felt the cold and rose to light the moon pearls, gently closing the silken curtains. When he turned back, he saw Song Qingshi still engrossed in his book, so focused that he hadn’t even noticed the change in surroundings.

Yue Wuhuan stepped closer, cautiously lifting his beautiful eyes—this was the first time he had ever wanted to truly see someone clearly. In his mind, he meticulously traced the contours of this person wrapped in snow-white robes like immaculate jade: slightly disheveled hair, a face still bearing traces of youthfulness, features pleasant but not stunning. Yet, he possessed the clearest eyes in the world—untouched by desire, untainted by filth, like a crystal inadvertently fallen into the mortal realm, unstained by even a speck of dust.

Yue Wuhuan watched him for a long, long time, but Song Qingshi never once looked up.

It seemed that nothing but the books in this room could ever enter his eyes... or his heart.

Yue Wuhuan suddenly found it all bitterly amusing. If people knew that the notoriously eccentric Medicine King Immortal and the infamous Young Master Wuhuan had spent an entire day in a study together—doing nothing but quietly reading—they would surely find it unbelievable.

A man must have obsession before he can achieve greatness.

The greatest obsession breeds the purest heart, becoming one’s true nature.

No one had realized that the Medicine King Immortal was merely a man obsessed with the ocean of texts, his eccentricities born from that obsession. No one knew that beneath his eccentric facade lay the simplest of hearts...

Yue Wuhuan lowered his head and smiled quietly for a long time before that smile faded into faint bitterness. He recalled their first meeting by the river, the sensation of fingertips brushing through his hair and grazing his cheek—slightly warm. If he had known this day would come, he would have endured any punishment to make himself presentable, to spare Song Qingshi from seeing him in such a wretched state.

Night fell, the rain ceased, and the moon peeked out from behind the clouds as insects chirred in the grass.

The study was like a world apart, untouched by the outside—no noise, no disturbances, only the soft rustling of pages and the lingering scent of medicinal herbs.

Yue Wuhuan read in unprecedented peace...

If only this could last a lifetime, how wonderful would that be?

Suddenly, Song Qingshi set down his book and began scribbling furiously on paper.

Yue Wuhuan leaned over to look and saw that his writing was feverish and illegible, though it seemed to list the names of some herbs.

Then, Song Qingshi paused, lost in thought. His left hand accidentally smudged the still-wet ink, leaving a large stain. Unaware, he lifted his hand to rest his chin, leaving a black ink smudge on his face.

Yue Wuhuan stared fixedly at that mark, finding it unbearably offensive.

He resisted the urge again and again but finally couldn’t hold back. He took out a handkerchief and carefully wiped away the blemish that marred the flawless image in his heart.

Song Qingshi finally snapped out of his daze and realized how late it had gotten. Seeing the ink stain on Yue Wuhuan’s handkerchief, he sheepishly admitted, "I get too absorbed when reading and often lose track of time. Are you hungry? You can wake me up next time."

Yue Wuhuan smiled and shook his head. "I was absorbed too. I didn’t notice how late it was."

"Here," Song Qingshi pushed all the pastries on the table toward him. "I’ve reached the fasting cultivation stage—I don’t get hungry."

Yue Wuhuan didn’t refuse, picking up a lotus cake. After a moment’s thought, he casually asked, "Master, you’re so focused—are you researching some important prescription?"

Song Qingshi tidied the messy papers on the table and answered, "It’s the *Six Meridians Revival Decoction*."

Yue Wuhuan’s hand, holding the cake, froze mid-air as he stared blankly at him.

"It’s for you to use later," Song Qingshi scratched his head, struggling to explain. "This medicine can reopen your blocked meridians, but when I tested it, I found it’s excruciating—you might not be able to endure it. I’m trying to find a way to reduce the pain. I’m still unsure whether slowing the medicinal effects or numbing the meridian pathways would be better. I might need to conduct more trials..."

The meridians are unblocked, bringing hope for his return to immortality...

Why do all this for him?

"Master," Yue Wuhuan heard his own voice trembling, "I'm not afraid of pain..."

"No one is unafraid of pain. That's why medicine seeks ways to alleviate suffering; severe pain can even lead to shock." Song Qingshi lowered his head to look at the papers in his hands again, explaining what seemed obvious. "I don’t want you to endure such suffering."

Why spare him even from pain?

Why treat him so well?

Why?

Yue Wuhuan burned to know the answer.

Finally, he asked the question that had lingered in his heart for so long.

Song Qingshi was clueless about the trope of system novels requiring secrecy from the protagonist, nor did he understand what OOC meant. But his gut told him that Yue Wuhuan’s current mental state couldn’t handle such an absurd truth. He disliked lying, so he thought for a long, long time—so long that Yue Wuhuan thought he wouldn’t get an answer—until Song Qingshi finally gave an awkward smile.

He remembered the day he was reborn, the golden light that broke through the dark clouds in his heart.

That simple kindness had made him unafraid of this unfamiliar world.

"You once wished me good fortune tonight. I wish you good fortune for a lifetime."

Author's Note: Confused Song Xueba: Are other transmigration systems different from mine? Do system teachers give online lessons? Isn’t OOC about workplace casualties? (on Operation Casualty)