Chapter 79

Song Qingshi transmigrated in an explosion.

At the moment of the blast, he received a bizarre system mission: eliminate the most evil villain in the cultivation world, the [corrupted text] of the Indestructible Peak, [corrupted text].

What were those garbled words? As a STEM major, his reading comprehension wasn't great; he couldn't make sense of them…

Song Qingshi lay on the ground, covered in blood, bewildered for a long time.

He vaguely recalled that he might have caused the system to explode due to his own operational error. Though he couldn't quite remember what he had done, weren't high-dimensional entities supposed to be fragile? Were all systems so prone to exploding?

In any case, coming back to life was a good thing. If a problem seemed unsolvable now, he could leave it for later.

Song Qingshi managed to twitch a finger with difficulty, his entire body aching. His ribs seemed broken, his abdomen was injured, and there were many other wounds from the explosion. His head throbbed too, filled with jumbled memory fragments. One moment, he felt like Song Qingshi, a medical student suffering from ALS; the next, he was Song Qingshi, a physician in the cultivation world; and then, he wondered if he might be a powerful grandmaster who had founded his own sect?

In a corner of his memories, there was also a blurry red shadow. Thinking of it made his heart feel sweet, yet also brought a pang of sadness. What was that?

Could it be the Crimson Sunset Buddha Fruit?

That fruit randomly evoked a hundred flavors of human experience—sometimes cloyingly sweet, sometimes so bitter it made one weep.

Song Qingshi thought hard for a while but felt it didn't quite resemble an object. It seemed more like a person or an event. He calmly analyzed his current situation and once again set aside this seemingly important but unsolvable problem. The first question he needed to answer was—how to survive.

He rummaged through his memories, sorting out any useful information, but the healing pills in his Mustard Seed Bag were all gone. His injuries were too severe for fine motor control, his dantian was damaged, his spiritual energy flow was unstable, and many healing techniques were unusable.

Suddenly, rain began to fall from the sky, cold and uncomfortable against his skin.

Song Qingshi wanted to cry from the pain, but he held it in, struggling to crawl to the side. However, all his bones were injured—after crawling desperately for a long time, he hadn't gotten far. Eventually, he lost too much blood, and his consciousness began to fade…

Barely conscious, unaware of how much time had passed, a blue-green umbrella appeared above his head, and someone poked his face with a stick:

"Hey? Hey? Are you dead?"

Song Qingshi wanted to call for help but couldn’t speak, only letting out a feeble hiss: "Ugh…"

The person sighed, put down the umbrella, and pushed some mystery pill into his mouth.

Song Qingshi felt the world spin, and then he knew nothing more.

……

When Song Qingshi woke again, he found himself lying on a comfortable bed, covered in soft blankets, his wounds roughly treated. The scent of medicine wafted from an earthenware pot on a small red stove nearby—deer antler flower, moon vine, crimson chime sand, and sky-soaring grass? All herbs for nourishing qi, replenishing blood, and aiding wound recovery.

He fell into deep thought.

The door opened, and a youth in green robes walked in holding a long-spouted pot. Seeing him awake, the youth exclaimed in surprise, "I actually saved you? A miracle!"

"The stitches are done wrong, the knotting method is wrong, and the one on your leg… you stitched it crooked. Plus, that’s a joint—you should’ve used sturdier thread, or it’ll tear," Song Qingshi observed the messy medical mistakes, then glanced at the long-spouted pot in the youth’s hand. Fearing he might force-feed him medicine, he quickly added, "Moon vine is for new mothers to regulate hormones and replenish blood—it’s not suitable for men. Crimson chime sand is too warming; it shouldn’t be used on severely injured patients, or it’ll cause heavy bleeding…"

The only reason he wasn’t dead yet was because that pot of medicine hadn’t been forced down his throat.

"It’s my first time treating someone, so I have no experience. You lost a lot of blood and looked as weak as a new mother, so I thought I’d try replenishing you," the youth said, his face reddening. He quickly set the long-spouted pot aside, patted his sleeves, and pretended nothing had happened. Then, after a pause, he lectured, "What’s there to fear? Even if there were a few mistakes in the treatment, it was still my medical expertise that saved you!"

Song Qingshi thought for a moment. "What was that pill you fed me?"

The youth replied, "Eight-Jewel Heart-Protecting Pill."

Song Qingshi continued staring at him with a poker face.

The youth surrendered. "Alright, alright, I admit my medical skills aren’t great. I fail every exam. It was that pill that saved you."

The Eight-Jewel Heart-Protecting Pill had safeguarded his heart channels and repaired some of his damaged channels. After resting in bed for a while and regaining some strength, Song Qingshi asked the youth for two painkillers and anesthetics. Clenching his jaw, he sat up and re-sutured his wounds, then instructed the youth to remove the moon vine and crimson chime sand from the prescription, replacing them with moonlit fragrance grass, and to let it simmer over a low flame.

The youth’s name was Song Jincheng—handsome, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and cheerful, around sixteen or seventeen, with a Foundation Establishment realm cultivation. He seemed naive and a bit of a chatterbox, volunteering his background without being asked: "You seem to know a bit about medicine? Ever heard of the Valley of Medicine Kings? It’s the biggest medical institution in the cultivation world. Many famous healers come from there, like Physician Pu, Physician Luo…"

Song Qingshi thought hard but looked blank. "Wasn’t the Valley of Medicine Kings… really small?"

In his memories, there also seemed to be a Valley of Medicine Kings, but it was poor, tiny, and shabby—nothing like what Song Jincheng described. He also didn’t recognize any Physician Pu or Physician Luo… Perhaps they were top experts even more skilled than him? If he ever met them, he’d have to learn from them properly.

"Are you from the countryside?" Song Jincheng exclaimed in shock. "The Valley of Medicine Kings is enormous! They don’t restrict entry by talent, age, or gender—only intelligence. Lots of mortals and half-blood descendants apply. Hundreds of thousands compete for a few hundred apprentice spots. Only the smartest geniuses get in."

Song Qingshi was stunned.

This was the cultivation world’s top medical institution? A legendary paradise for top-tier students? He didn’t want to do missions anymore—he wanted to study there!

Excitedly pondering this, he suddenly noticed something odd. "Are you a healer from the Valley of Medicine Kings too?"

If the academy produced students of this level, its reputation seemed undeserved…

"I was born there. Both my parents are healers from the Valley, so I grew up inside…" Song Jincheng’s face reddened again. Trying to change the subject, he boasted, "My great-grandmother is amazing! Have you heard of Mrs. Qing Luan? A legendary alchemist in the cultivation world! She spread medical knowledge across the world, benefiting mortals, accepted numerous disciples, and built the Valley of Medicine Kings into what it is today—an exceptional woman whose name will be remembered for eternity." So, he was a third-generation legacy admission who got in through connections, not exams.

Song Qingshi praised, "Truly remarkable."

For some reason, he felt Qing Luan wasn’t an old lady but a gentle yet strong young girl?

Song Jincheng went on, "My great-grandfather is Song Ming Hong, a Golden Core sword immortal who ascended from a mortal body… Rumor has it there’s an even more formidable Grandmaster above him. The Grandmaster’s surname is Song, so my great-grandfather took the same surname. They say Grandmaster Song went into closed-door cultivation thousands of years ago and might not even be alive anymore… Anyway, the Valley bans discussion of it."

The more Song Qingshi listened, the more his memories tangled, his headache worsening.

Noticing his discomfort, Song Jincheng asked, "What’s wrong?"

Song Qingshi said heavily, "I think I’ve lost my memories."

Song Jincheng stared at him for a long time, as if looking at an idiot, then asked warily, "You’re not trying to skip out on the medical fees, are you?"

Song Qingshi blinked. "Medical fees?"

"Treatment costs money!" Song Jincheng jumped three feet high. He’d only used that expensive Eight-Jewel Heart-Protecting Pill because the guy lying on the ground wore expensive robes, like a rich young master who could afford it. That pill had been a birthday gift from his mother, made from a precious formula passed down by Grandmaster Song, with rare ingredients. There weren’t many left in the entire Valley. He quickly tallied the bill, "That pill is worth eight hundred top-grade spirit stones."

Song Qingshi nodded in understanding and rummaged through his Mustard Seed Bag for spirit stones. After searching for a while, he pulled out about twenty.

Song Jincheng gave him a deadpan stare.

Song Qingshi flushed too. "I think… I’m very poor. Someone else always took care of me."

Song Jincheng asked, "Who was kind enough to do that?"

"I can’t remember." The blurry red shadow surfaced in Song Qingshi’s mind again. Suppressing his headache, he murmured, "I think it was someone I really liked. They often gave me spending money and bought me nice things."

"I get it," Song Jincheng declared confidently. "That person was your dad!"

Song Qingshi froze. "Was it?"

"Of course," Song Jincheng reasoned with conviction. "Even if you’ve lost your memories, use your brain! Who in this world would treat you well for no reason? Give you money for free? Only parents would do that!"

Song Qingshi thought back to his life before transmigrating and felt this analysis made perfect sense!

Song Jincheng magnanimously said, "You’ve got a phoenix blood jade around your neck—incredibly valuable, with a soul array embedded. I figure your dad hung it there because you seem so dumb, he was worried you’d get lost. Whatever. Stick with me and don’t wander off. In a few days, your dad might come looking for you, and then he can pay up."

Song Qingshi nodded eagerly.

Song Jincheng hastily prepared the medicine before handing it over. Song Qingshi took a sip and immediately noticed major mistakes in the proportions of supplementary ingredients. Fortunately, the impact was minor. Sensing that this child was not ready to practice independently, he tentatively inquired. Song Jincheng bashfully admitted that he had failed five out of seven subjects in his exams and, fearing punishment, had sneaked out to see the world, hoping to visit his good friend at the Tianwu Sect.

Song Qingshi nearly choked on the medicine, feeling a pang of pity for Mrs. Qing Luan. How could she have such a hopeless student in the family?

With a cold expression, he scrutinized the self-satisfied look of this truant dropout, rubbing his throbbing head in discomfort. The urge to drag this boy back to the Medicine King Valley, force him through rigorous study, and bury him under thousands of worksheets to hammer into him that practice makes perfect—until he became a competent physician—grew overwhelming.

Was this thought too harsh?

Song Qingshi took a deep breath, suppressing his urge to lecture the underachiever. After confirming that the wounds were properly treated and healing steadily, he recalled the strange system task and decided to ask this seemingly knowledgeable youth for information.

The moment Song Jincheng heard the words "Indestructible Peak," he panicked, slapping a hand over Song Qingshi’s mouth while warily scanning their surroundings. He scolded the fool, "Even if you’ve lost your memory, you can’t just blurt things out! That place—is that something you just say out loud? If you say *that* name, you’ll be killed..."

Song Qingshi struggled, mumbling, "Mmph—what name?"

"That name… the one that must never be spoken on that mountain," Song Jincheng cautiously released him after confirming no immediate danger. "When I was little, my mother told me about the dark history of the cultivation world—massacres, rivers of blood, a terrifying past that still gives people the shakes. Though things have been quiet for centuries… don’t you dare get curious or interested! You wouldn’t survive even with hundreds of lives to spare!"

Song Qingshi was dying to know but dared not ask further.

Song Jincheng noticed his inner conflict and chuckled. "No one even remembers his name now."

Song Qingshi summarized, "So… he’s incredibly powerful?"

Song Jincheng whispered, "They say he’s just one step away from ascension."

Song Qingshi’s brain short-circuited. He calculated the gap between a mere Foundation Establishment Cultivator and a near-ascended powerhouse—it was like sending a kindergartener with a toy knife to duel a fully armed special forces soldier! Then he estimated how many years it would take him to reach Nascent Soul, then further to Soul Formation or Void Refining… and the probability of completing the mission...

Forget it. The task was too difficult. Table it for a few millennia—maybe revisit it after reaching Void Refining.

For now, he’d focus on studying. Books sounded way better!

...

Atop the Indestructible Peak, upon the throne of the divine hall—

The Divine Lord suddenly opened his eyes. He had sensed the essence of phoenix blood.

Author’s Note:

Song·Poor Straight-A Student·Qingshi: Waiting obediently for Dad to come pay the ransom.

Yue·Wealthy Daddy·Wu Huan: ????? Song Jincheng—the king of slackers who single-handedly got both the principal and the dean in trouble.