Chapter 253: Sect

Chapter 253: Sect

The fabric was parted to either side, exposing his body to Xie Chunshan's gaze. His skin gleamed cold and pale under the candlelight, like a fish on a chopping block.

Xiao Wu could sense Xie Chunshan sitting by the bedside, his gaze almost physical, slowly surveying every inch of his skin as if admiring a valuable trophy.

Xiao Wu silently clenched the bedding.

He had resolved not to speak no matter what, to maintain his dignity, but Xie Chunshan merely watched him in silence, making him intensely uncomfortable.

Xiao Wu spoke coldly, "If Palace Lord intends to apply the medicine, then do so. What are you waiting for?"

Xie Chunshan chuckled lightly. "Oh? Is the Immortal Lord getting impatient?"

Lord Wuwang was wild and wicked, his tone naturally flirtatious. Now, with a teasing rise at the end, it sounded like a nobleman out for springtime pleasures, lounging atop a terrace with a folding fan, calling 'my beauty' with a smile.

And Lord Pingwu, Xiao Wu, was precisely that "beauty" Lord Wuwang sought.

Xiao Wu replied icily, "I am not impatient. This damaged body is yours to examine as you wish."

With that, he shut his eyes tightly, letting Xie Chunshan look his fill.

Xie Shu was indeed examining.

Xiao Wu’s face had been his choice, the model of his choosing. The physique had been adjusted from a standard adult male frame—taller, more slender—with adjusted muscle proportions to appear slightly lean. Later, after Xiao Wu’s meridians were shattered and restored, his health deteriorated, adding a fragile quality to his already delicate form. By appearance alone, he seemed incapable of hard work—more suited to secluded meditation.

But Xie Shu knew how fluidly and gracefully this body moved when wielding a sword.

This was the body he had personally chosen.

Yet now, the skin was marred with fine wounds, some red and festering.

These injuries were inconsequential—a few days of medicinal care would erase them entirely. Xie Shu’s gaze lingered on Xiao Wu’s lower back, where another scar lay.

A long, thin mark, stretching from his spine to his waist, tapering to a fine line like the blade of grass.

Slightly raised, its hue mismatched the surrounding skin, appearing fierce despite having long healed, a silent witness to past violence.

Xie Shu paused, inexplicably displeased.

Xiao Wu’s waistline was exquisite, the scar snaking across it like cracks in fine porcelain.

The game design included no such scars. There should be none.

Unthinkingly, Xie Shu reached out, lightly tracing the mark.

Under Xie Chunshan’s guise, he had deliberately forgone a hand warmer, making his fingertips ice-cold.

The moment they brushed the scar, Xiao Wu shivered, his muscles tensing before he forcibly relaxed again.

"..."

Xiao Wu hesitated, then said coldly, "Palace Lord, that wound has long healed. If you wish to apply ointment, you'd have to reopen it first."

Xie Shu ignored the remark, stroking the scar again. Softly, he asked, "Immortal Lord, how did you get this injury?"

His touch was featherlight, barely grazing the skin, yet Xiao Wu found it unsettling. The old scar tingled under Xie Chunshan's idle caress, the calloused fingers triggering a strange tingling that spread rapidly. His back arched involuntarily—he couldn't keep still, yearning to curl inward.

But to remain rigidly flat could still be called defiance, maintaining his dignity. To truly arch under Xie Chunshan's gaze—Xiao Wu didn't know how to justify that.

Here's the edited translation incorporating the expert suggestions:

Weird. Really weird—weirder than punishment.

Xiao Wu forced himself not to move, stiffly saying, "If the Palace Lord wants to test the meds, then test it. Why ask so much?"

Xie Shu replied, "But I wanna know."

He traced the scar lightly and continued softly, "Immortal Lord, how'd you get this scar?"

"..."

Xie Chunshan was seriously annoying—it seemed if he wasn't told, he'd keep poking at Xiao Wu's side and badgering him.

Xiao Wu was unaccustomed to anyone getting close, let alone someone squeezing and rubbing his skin like this. After a long pause, he said flatly, "When I was young, I screwed around during training and made mistakes. My master punished me."

Xie Chunshan echoed, tone unreadable, "Your master punished you?"

Xie Shu rolled the ointment between his fingers, raising an eyebrow slightly.

This was the game world he'd constructed, with Xiao Wu as his chosen protagonist in the early stages. Where the hell did this 'master' come from?

Xie Shu racked his brains, finally recalling a figure from the game's draft: "Xiao Xinghuai?"

Xiao Xinghuai, the head of the Shangling Sect, was the most senior figure in the sect. Xiao Wu, his senior brother Xiao Lian, and all the notable disciples of the current Shangling Sect generation were his students.

"What did he use to punish you?"

Xiao Wu remained silent.

"How old were you?"

Still, Xiao Wu said nothing.

"How many times were you punished?"

"..."

Xie Shu then said, "Immortal Lord, turn over. Let me see this scar."

"..."

Xiao Wu's skin crawled. He had no damn clue what had gotten into Lord Wuwang, harping on about the scar and dead set on checking it out. He ignored the request, keeping his eyes closed in silence.

Xie Chunshan gave a low laugh. "Immortal Lord, in the territory of my Wuwang Palace, playing tough will only make things worse for you."

Xiao Wu's brow twitched slightly, but he still kept his eyes downcast, silent. Upon closer inspection, his nails were biting into his palms, his entire body tense with wariness, as if fearing Xie Chunshan might suddenly flip him over.

Xie Shu thought to himself, "Do I really seem that scary?"

After delivering his line, he didn't push it. There'd be plenty of opportunities to examine the scar later—no hurry. Instead, he began "testing the medicine."

The Han Dao San had been held between his fingers for a long time, warmed and softened, now slick and gummy. Xie Shu applied it to a swollen wound, spreading a thin layer.

The medicine was potent, burned like hell on contact. Even on his fingertips, it felt prickling hot; on the wound, it was like dunking it in ginger juice.

Yet Xiao Wu said nothing, took it without a sound, his expression cool and composed—still stone-faced as ever.

Xie Shu noticed the body beneath his fingertips growing tenser. Glancing down, he saw Xiao Wu gripping a corner of the blanket, wringing the life out of the poor fabric. Xie Shu withdrew the medicine. "Immortal Lord, if the pain becomes unbearable, let me know."

Here is the edited translation incorporating the expert suggestions:

After speaking, he felt it didn't quite fit his character, so he added lightly with a smile, "Otherwise, if Lord Pingwu shreds Lord Wuwang's bedding, it wouldn't sound too good if word got out."

His tone was casual, carrying his signature playful cadence.

Xiao Wu replied calmly, "Since this is a medicine trial, why mention such things?"

The power dynamic was obvious—he was completely at their mercy. At this point, was there any need for words?

Xie Shu glanced at the screen, where most of the scripted dialogue for this scene had already been spoken. The system's dialogue prompt flickered calmly, showing no objections.

Given the flexibility of this system, some improvisation was permitted.

Xie Shu then said, "Immortal Lord, you're mistaken. A medicine trial doesn't mean only one type of remedy can be tested. I have another here—apply it, and the wound will go numb, no pain at all. But its toxicity is far worse than this Green Scorpion Dispersing Ointment. Within a month, the wound will fester, resulting in death."

As he spoke, he made a theatrical show of standing and heading toward the door. Xiao Wu remained lying there, limp as a corpse, neither agreeing nor opposing Xie Shu's threat, as if calmly accepting whatever came next.

Xie Shu reached the door.

Outside, Wu Buke was holding a bowl of medicinal decoction. The medicine had finished brewing a while ago, but since the Palace Lord hadn't opened the door, he hadn't dared enter.

Then the door was pushed open from within. The Palace Lord stepped out casually, took the medicine from Wu Buke, and tossed a porcelain vial into the air, which landed neatly in Wu Buke's hand.

The vial's weight hadn't changed—clearly unused.

Wu Buke bowed respectfully. "This... Palace Lord?"

Xie Shu: "Too harsh. Bring a milder wound medicine."

"..."

Xie Shu glanced at him. "What, is there a problem?"

Wu Buke hurriedly replied, "No, no."

Xie Shu lifted the bowl in his hand. "And this?"

Wu Buke: "Ah, this is an old prescription I prepared for Lord Pingwu's condition. Two qian (7.5g) of forsythia to reduce inflammation, three qian (11.25g) of saposhnikovia root for pain relief, supplemented with codonopsis and atractylodes for sedation and sleep."

Xie Shu acknowledged with a hum and strode back inside.

System 66 dutifully displayed fresh lines.

Xie Shu: "Immortal Lord, I've sent someone to fetch the external medicine. In the meantime, please help me test this internal remedy. This bowl is brewed from toxic herbs—aconite and thunder god vine. After drinking it, within ten days, your internal organs will suffer severe damage, enduring searing pain."

With that, he brought the bowl—two parts anti-inflammatory, three parts pain relief, the rest sedative and sleep-inducing—to Xiao Wu's lips.

His pale, thin lips parted slightly, taking in the medicine.

Xie Shu patiently waited for him to finish one sip before offering the next. Once the bowl was empty, he drew the quilt over Xiao Wu, covering him completely. "For the sake of testing the medicine's effects, I must trouble the Immortal Lord to stay in my palace for the next few days."

Xiao Wu gave no response.

He was already exhausted. The palace's charcoal fire was warm, and the hot medicine and quilt drew him into deep sleep.

Only then did Xie Shu set about applying the wound medicine.

Most wound medicines had some sting to them. Xiao Wu winced in his sleep but didn't wake. While he slept, Xie Shu turned him over to inspect the wounds on his back.

Here is the edited translation incorporating the expert suggestions:

Only then did he realize there wasn't just one scar—his back was crisscrossed with countless marks, looking like a well-worn cutting board when viewed from afar.

Xie Shu called for Wu Buke. Wrapping Xiao Wu in the blanket, he exposed a small patch near the shoulder blade and asked, "Can you tell what caused these?"

Wu Buke examined them carefully. "Punishment whips."

He snorted. "You might not know this, Palace Lord, but those so-called Righteous Path sects appear noble and virtuous, yet their rules are harsh. That old tyrant Xiao Xinghuai from the Shangling Sect is obsessively nitpicky—he set hundreds of commandments for his disciples. The tiniest slip-up leads to punishment, whether kneeling in the ancestral hall or taking the whip. I've seen these marks on their disciples before—left by the punishment whip. That whip is made of linked iron segments, each strike leaving a bloody welt. Once the flesh heals, the scars remain just like this. From Lord Pingwu's scars, he must have suffered at least a hundred lashes as a child."

Xie Shu's fingers twitched slightly. "How so?"

Wu Buke explained, "These aren't just one set of scars—they're old ones overlapping new ones. When young, the body grows quickly, stretching the skin and fading the scars. For example, Palace Lord, the one on your right—judging by its color and size—was likely left when he was seven or eight. This one here happened around nine or ten, and this cluster was from adulthood, perhaps seventeen or eighteen."

Xie Shu's brow twitched repeatedly.

Seven or eight years old—still a child.

By Wu Buke's account, this punishment must have persisted throughout Lord Pingwu's entire youth?

Though Xie Shu's childhood at that age hadn't been pleasant, he had never endured anything like this.

Wu Buke cautiously studied the Palace Lord's expression. "If Palace Lord dislikes them and finds them unsightly, there are medicines that can remove them."

Xie Shu shook his head. "No need." He pulled the blanket back up, tucking the man in securely again.