Chapter 14

The cicadas’ chorus swelled with the rising heat, and imperceptibly, summer had arrived.

A wolf-hair brush moved across the white *xuan* paper, leaving behind neat, meticulous medical records, devoid of any sloppiness. From the initial wound treatments to the detoxification regimens, and then to the meridian clearing and *dantian* restoration three months prior, every step of the treatment and every medication plan was detailed thoroughly, bound into volumes for future medical reference.

However, when it came to Yue Wuhuan’s psychological state, Song Qingshi found himself at a loss for words. After much hesitation, he simply sketched a few brief notes in the medical records, hinting at a trend of improvement when compared to earlier entries.

Yue Wuhuan’s daily routine had become disciplined and industrious.

He unearthed an unused sword from the treasury and practiced with it for two hours before dawn. Then, after Song Qingshi completed his morning ablutions, he would accompany him in studying medical texts for another two hours. In the afternoon, they would either delve into anatomical research or experiment with compounding medicines and alchemy. In the evening, after attending to the administrative duties of Medicine King Valley, he would meditate and cultivate *qi* for two more hours.

As a cultivator, his physique demanded little sleep, so he refused to waste time, resting only an hour or two each day. Had Song Qingshi not insisted on shared meals, he would have even replaced food with *bigudan* (nutrition pills).

Song Qingshi never imagined he would one day be the one advising someone else to ease up on their studies.

But Yue Wuhuan insisted he had already squandered too much time and must seize every moment.

Thanks to his prior experience in Foundation Establishment and his improved aptitude, he quickly returned to the sixth stage of Qi Refinement, with Foundation Establishment once again within reach.

Observing the steady improvement in his physical condition documented in the medical records, Song Qingshi let him be.

…

With the advent of summer, Song Qingshi discovered the virtues of frost silk. In his previous world, he had cherished wearing silk pajamas, delighting in the smooth, natural touch that lulled him to sleep—one of his few small indulgences in an otherwise unpretentious life. The immortal realm’s frost silk was several grades superior to mortal silk, feeling weightless, cool, and exquisitely smooth against the skin, dispelling all traces of heat.

He had the medicinal attendants procure several bolts of plain frost silk and fashioned them into contemporary-style two-piece sleepwear sets. Each day, he donned a loose, oversized long-sleeved T-shirt with a wide boat neckline and drawstring pants, finding them incredibly comfortable for sleep.

He attempted to recommend the improved pajamas to Yue Wuhuan.

Yue Wuhuan stared at his outfit for a long moment before declining, then went to practice swordplay for an extra hour.

Song Qingshi also contemplated cutting his hair. Unaccustomed to men keeping such long locks and unwilling to waste time styling it while staying at home, he took a pair of scissors and stood before the mirror, measuring where to snip. Yue Wuhuan walked in, saw this, and immediately snatched the scissors from his hand, snapping uncharacteristically: "Master, what are you doing?!"

Upon learning the reason, he gave Song Qingshi a thorough scolding.

"Your body, hair, and skin are precious. In the eyes of the world, a man would only cut his hair under three circumstances," Yue Wuhuan said, barely containing his anger, his voice stern. "One, those who take monastic vows; two, those who are criminals; three, defiant rebels. Which does Master wish to be?"

Song Qingshi shook his head frantically. "None of them! I just find the flyaway strands annoying and styling troublesome."

"Let me try," Yue Wuhuan said, relieved after hearing the reason. He took the fragrant wood comb from the dressing table, poured a bit of orchid balm into his palm, and carefully smoothed out Song Qingshi’s stray strands. He secured them with a fine braid, then gathered all the hair into a topknot and fastened it with a white jade *guan*. Finally, he reluctantly let go. "How is this?"

"Perfect! Your hands are so skillful," Song Qingshi praised, admiring his much neater hairstyle. Then he asked, "Wuhuan, should I hire a maid to do my hair?"

Yue Wuhuan’s hand holding the comb paused briefly as he quelled the dark impulses surfacing within him. Softly, he asked, "Master... do you dislike me styling your hair? Would you prefer someone else?"

Song Qingshi immediately denied it. "I just don’t want to waste your talents on such trivial tasks."

Yue Wuhuan turned back and smiled. "Wuhuan owes Master a great debt of gratitude, and unable to repay it, I lie awake at night. If I can perform even menial tasks for Master, it would bring me great peace of mind..."

Hearing that this would improve Yue Wuhuan’s mood, Song Qingshi promptly agreed. "If you don’t find it troublesome, then my hair is in your hands."

Yue Wuhuan gently brushed a stray lock behind his ear and nodded with a smile.

In his childhood, he had once seen his elder brother, the Crown Prince, styling the Crown Princess’s hair with boundless tenderness and utmost care.

Back then, he had idolized his brother, renowned as the foremost military commander, and couldn’t understand why he would engage in such trivial matters. His brother had laughed and told him, "Holding the comb with love, yet leaving strands of hair to entwine fate. Little Wuhuan, when you grow up and meet someone you love, you’ll understand the joy in it."

At the time, he hadn’t understood.

Now, he knew the feeling of letting silken threads slip between his fingers, plucking the chords of his heart.

He brought the fragrant wood comb to his lips and kissed it lightly.

*If I could style your hair for a lifetime, would it weave a bond for the next?*

…

With his troubles resolved, Song Qingshi felt immensely relieved.

Suddenly remembering something, he asked Yue Wuhuan, "In a couple of days, would you accompany me to Le City? I’ve commissioned a batch of experimental equipment from Tiangong Pavilion. The items are valuable and complex in structure, so they’ve asked me to personally oversee the details. Also... I’ve heard Le City is famous for its fine food and wine, and the dance and music at the Celestial Dance Tower are exceptional. Shall we go experience it?"

He had been transmigrated into this world by his system teacher for quite some time, always busy with treatments and never truly observing the immortal realm. Though the original body’s memories were gradually merging with his, many things still felt vague and indistinct, lacking vividness.

Only recently had it dawned on him that he now possessed a healthy body and a long lifespan. Unlike in his previous world, where he feared time was never enough, forcing him to study frantically lest he collapse and never recover, now he had no such desperate urgency.

Everyone said such a life was dull...

Now, he could spare a little time to experience the joys of a normal life.

He could eat foods his doctors had once forbidden, engage in activities they had barred, and even taste wine to understand why so many were enamored with it.

Though he wasn’t sure if he’d enjoy these things, he had to try to find out.

The thought of this new life filled him with a small thrill of excitement and anticipation.

The invitation to Le City was just the beginning. On one hand, he wanted Yue Wuhuan to step out and relax, to avoid becoming a complete recluse like himself. On the other, he worried about his own communication barriers with strangers—whether Tiangong Pavilion would understand medical terminology and his design requirements. Having Yue Wuhuan there to facilitate discussions would make things much easier.

After a moment’s thought, Yue Wuhuan agreed.

On the day of departure, Yue Wuhuan brought along a veiled hat, covering his face with long dark tulle.

Song Qingshi was puzzled. "Are you afraid of getting a tan?"

Yue Wuhuan smiled. "Master will understand in time."

After some thought, Song Qingshi realized—Wuhuan’s beauty was surely a beacon for unsavory advances. Immediately, he girded himself with all his magical tools and poisons, instructing Yue Wuhuan to stay close. He even prepared a rudimentary deterrent draught and handed it to Yue Wuhuan, explaining that a single spray could blind a rogue for at least half a month. Yue Wuhuan accepted it cheerfully, adding it to his personal arsenal.

The two rode a divine beast to Le City.

Le City, the largest city near Medicine King Valley, was built along a river, boasting convenient transportation, bustling markets, and endless attractions, drawing countless cultivators.

Song Qingshi felt like a wide-eyed rustic in the city, his eyes darting everywhere. What were the ambrosia of golden fruits and lunar azure elixirs sold by the immortal courtesans in the teahouse? He had to try them all! What were those strange fruits at the vendor’s stall? Buy some to study! The puppeteer’s opera-performing paper figurines were fascinating, and the beauties at the flower house, dressed like apsaras from temple frescoes, levitated gracefully to entice customers, batting their eyes at him one after another. He watched for a long time before finally extending his Divine Sense to investigate...

*Such gaudy charms were worth his attention?*

Yue Wuhuan waited and waited, until he could bear it no longer. He turned Song Qingshi’s head back and asked, "Enjoying the view?"

Song Qingshi withdrew his Divine Sense and whispered, "That girl has scleral icterus—might be a hepatic dysfunction."

Yue Wuhuan: "???"

*What was Master’s obsession with eyes?*

Author’s Note: If not for Yue Wuhuan’s intervention, Song Xueba might have become the first protagonist in Jinjiang’s *xianxia* history to sport short hair and a T-shirt.