Chapter 258: Severed Meridian

Chapter 258: Severed Meridians

Xie Shu's expression blanked for a moment.

66 babbled on, "We're doomed, we're doomed! What was that Mad Pharmacist doing wandering around the mountains in the middle of the night? Now he got hit square by your energy blast, with a lump the size of a bowl on his head, bedridden and unable to even crawl. How is he supposed to find Xiao Wu? If he doesn't go to Xiao Wu, Xiao Wu's meridians and cultivation won't recover. If his cultivation isn't restored, my mission will fail, and you won't be able to go back either—wah—"

It muttered to itself, its voice already tinged with sobs.

Xie Shu raised a hand to press against his temple, rubbing it wearily. "Alright, 66, it's not like there's no way."

The mini system slumped dejectedly. "What else can we do? We can't just carry him on a stretcher to Lord Pingwu, can we?"

Xie Shu placed it on his shoulder. "Don't worry, come with me."

*

Wuwang Palace, Medicine Hall.

Ever since leaving Baibu Pavilion, Wu Buke had completely withdrawn into seclusion, spending his days refining medicine in the Medicine Hall, shutting his doors to visitors, becoming an invisible presence in Wuwang Palace.

Under the pressure of Xie Chunshan's intimidation, he had gone to Xue Sui to receive punishment. After hearing the full story, Xue Sui didn't dare go easy on him, delivering a solid punishment. Wu Buke was still half-paralyzed, sharing the same miserable fate as the Mad Pharmacist—two of a kind, equally miserable.

When the young attendant outside announced the arrival of the Palace Lord, Pharmacist Wu's first thought was, Oh no. The incident at Baibu Pavilion wasn't over yet. Gritting his teeth, he shakily got out of bed, ready to throw himself at Xie Chunshan's boots and put on a tearful show of loyalty—only to hear that the Palace Lord had bypassed his courtyard and gone straight to the Mad Pharmacist's quarters.

Wu Buke let out a long sigh of relief.

The Mad Pharmacist, however, wasn't so lucky.

He was used to living in squalor, his room cluttered with weeds and dirt, medicine baskets and ceramic jars for fermentation stacked haphazardly, leaving no space to even step.

So, there he was, sporting multiple lumps, watching as their esteemed Palace Lord casually lifted his robe's hem and stood calmly by his bedside.

Though the Mad Pharmacist was mad, he wasn't stupid—he knew who he could and couldn't afford to offend. Instantly, his craziness vanished, and he bowed respectfully to the "culprit" with an awkward smile. "Palace Lord?"

Xie Shu didn't bother with pleasantries. "I heard you have a prescription that can restore severed meridians?"

"I do, but... why do you ask?"

Xie Shu replied coldly, "No questions needed."

With Xie Chunshan's status, there was room for negotiation with Xue Sui and Wu Buke, but as for the Mad Pharmacist? Xie Shu didn't need to put on an act.

"Ah, yes, of course!"

The Mad Pharmacist had many bizarre prescriptions in his possession, all untested half-finished products. When the Palace Lord asked, he didn't dare withhold anything, immediately presenting a jar of herbs along with a tattered little manual. "Palace Lord, everything's written here."

Xie Shu took the herbs and skimmed through the Art. It was quite detailed. By now, he had nearly mastered the seventh level of the Wuwang Heart Art, just shy of breaking through to the ninth. Once one understood the principles of one Art, others became easier to grasp. A quick glance was enough to get the gist.

For the finer details he didn't understand, Xie Shu interrogated the bedridden Mad Pharmacist. The poor man, already deranged and not too sharp to begin with, was further muddled by illness, his words jumbled and incoherent. After an entire afternoon of this, Xie Shu finally pieced it all together.

Without ceremony, he took the Mad Pharmacist's herb jar and the Art. Before leaving, he also took a few sachets.

With the sachets hanging from his waist, he was instantly enveloped in a bitter medicinal fragrance.

Xie Shu was no master actor—his skills still needed work. Being able to imitate Song Xiaoyu's voice was already impressive enough; pretending to be the Mad Pharmacist was asking too much. He had to compensate in other ways.

Once everything was prepared, in the warm afternoon light, Xie Shu stood outside the Si You Pavilion, holding the medicine jar.

He lowered his gaze, wondering how to enter.

How should a madman behave? Cackling wildly while digging in his nose, then strutting into the courtyard like he owned it?

No script existed for the Mad Pharmacist's Scene 66, only a rough plot outline without reference lines. A man like Xie Shu—emotionally reserved, unshakable and watertight—could find some common ground when portraying Xie Chunshan. As for Song Xiaoyu's youthful innocence, Xie Shu had his own boyhood to draw from, making it manageable to portray. But playing a bumbling fool? That posed real difficulty.

66 threw up his hands in defeat: "Forget it, Su Zhu! As long as we advance the plot, these details don't matter!"

Xie Shu slightly raised his brows. "Your scoring seems awfully generous."

Before 66 could respond, Xie Shu knocked on the door. "Lord Pingwu, I'm a Pharmacist from the medicine hall. Got a minute to talk?"

He lowered his voice. Where Song Xiaoyu's tone was clear and youthful, Xie Chunshan's was measured and mature, while the Pharmacist spoke with a deep, world-weary rasp.

Xiao Wu was sunning himself in the courtyard.

He lounged lazily against the wall. Using his ruined meridians brought pain, so he'd gone limp. The midday sun beat down mercilessly—too bright for anyone to face directly. But Xiao Wu couldn't see. Sunlight glared in his pupils, leaving golden glints.

Oddly, though stripped of cultivation, he actually seemed more alive now than as an Immortal Lord. As if only in this derelict corner of Wuwang Palace could he shed his past burdens and show his human side.

Hearing movement, he stiffened upright, standing three paces from the door. Through the crack, Xie Shu glimpsed his gaunt frame.

Xiao Wu's reply was polite but distant: "To what do I owe this visit, Pharmacist?"

Xie Shu chuckled. "I heard the Immortal Lord's meridians were severed. By remarkable coincidence, I possess an Art that might reconnect them."

Behind the door, Xiao Wu froze, his breath hitching.

Yet after a pause, he refused. "I appreciate the offer, but no thank you."

Xie Shu blinked. Three decades of grueling cultivation wiped out in a moment, captured by enemies, and now he'd spurn this slender hope?

"Why would that be, Immortal Lord?"

Xiao Wu: "No reward without merit."

Xie Shu: "It’s not entirely without merit. I have a request."

The system, miserably sandwiched between them, listened to their flowery exchanges and tugged at Su Zhu’s sleeve: "Su Zhu, you’re supposed to be acting crazy, got it?"

Xie Shu pinched the system, noting that while it reminded him, it didn’t enforce termination, so he plowed ahead: "If the Immortal Lord agrees, then it’s not too late to accept."

Xiao Wu: "What do you seek?"

Xie Shu: "Swordplay."

He stroked the medicine jar in his hand: "Though I excel in pharmacology, I lack self-defense skills. In the Demon Palace, I walk on eggshells. I wish to learn a thing or two from the Immortal Lord."

Using Song Xiaoyu’s identity to ask about swordplay wouldn’t work—that amateur couldn’t even channel qi properly. If he improved enough in a few months to spar with Lord Pingwu, Xie Chunshan’s title as a once-in-a-century genius would be handed to someone else. Xiao Wu was no fool; if Song Xiaoyu dared ask, Xie Chunshan’s identity would be exposed the next day.

But posing as the Pharmacist was perfect.

This way, taking on extra work for free wasn’t too bad.

After all, even if Xue Sui and Wu Buke had been intimidated, the upcoming Immortal-Demon Grand Tournament required him to exchange over a hundred moves with Xiao Wu—enough to split rivers and topple peaks. If he knew nothing, the moment Xiao Wu drew his sword, Xie Shu would drop dead—what a lame way to go.

The rusty door handle screeched as Xiao Wu said, "Come in."

Xie Shu stepped inside.

Steering clear of Song Xiaoyu’s usual spot, he set the medicine jar down elsewhere: "As a goodwill gesture, let me walk you through this secret technique first. Whether to practice it or not is your decision."

Xiao Wu’s face turned serious: "Go ahead."

Here's the edited translation incorporating the expert suggestions:

Xie Shu sighed softly: "First, Immortal Lord should know that in Wuwang Palace, every medicine has three parts poison. The more potent the remedy, the fiercer its toxicity—especially one that can mend severed meridians."

Unfamiliar with the Mad Pharmacist's usual demeanor, Xie Shu simply followed his own approach. In front of Xiao Wu, he laid out the benefits and risks of the Art without reservation, holding nothing back.

From the agony of medicinal herbs eroding broken meridians, to the body becoming enveloped in Withering—turning one more ghost than human—to the subsequent unpredictable poison flare-ups and yearly bouts of delirium, he explained everything clearly and in detail.

Xie Shu knew that once Song Xiaoyu's plotline unfolded, Xiao Wu would inevitably practice this Art. Yet he still hoped Xiao Wu would decide with clear understanding, fully aware of the price.

When describing the suffering involved, Xie Shu paused briefly but quickly masked it and continued.

At his pause, Xiao Wu's empty eyes flickered toward him, his brows furrowing slightly before he lowered his lashes, lost in thought.

After Xie Shu finished explaining everything thoroughly, he wet his lips: "Has Immortal Lord made a decision?"

According to the plot, Xiao Wu should refuse.

Xiao Wu and the Mad Pharmacist's first meeting was anything but friendly. Xiao Wu, empty inside without even resentment, simply awaited death, while the Pharmacist was eager to test his medicine. They parted on bad terms.

Yet Xiao Wu, his milky eyes meeting Xie Shu's steadily, said: "Perhaps it's worth a try."

"Huh?" 66 sat bolt upright. "What?"

Xie Shu lowered his eyes and waited, but the system didn't force any intervention. He tapped 66 with two fingers: "Very well."

Instead of sharing his shock, 66 noticed his host letting out a subtle sigh of relief.

66 became suspicious: "Host, you...?"

Xie Shu replied calmly: "A small plot twist shouldn't cause big problems."

66 lay back down: "True."

As Xie Chunshan's NPC role-playing system, what did it matter how much the Pharmacist broke character?

Having placated the system, Xie Shu composed himself.

Undeniably, Xie Shu felt a weight lift from his chest.

The cost of the Art was too great. Though Xie Shu admired the version of Xiao Wu he would mold three centuries later, he didn't want Xiao Wu forced onto this path.

He had disguised himself as Song Xiaoyu and would soon bring about Song Xiaoyu's death. If Xiao Wu accepted this path solely because of Song Xiaoyu, that would be truly tragic.

As Xie Shu remained silent, Xiao Wu gave a quiet laugh: "Does the Pharmacist still have doubts?"

Xie Shu: "...None."

He retrieved a medicinal seed from the clay jar, took Xiao Wu's wrist, and located the severed meridian at his fingertip: "This will hurt. If it becomes unbearable, let me know."

The words felt familiar. Xiao Wu hesitated briefly before smiling: "Alright."

The medicine's power flowed into his meridians, pain washing over him like a wave. Xiao Wu's fingers trembled, but he endured without a word.

The swollen, blocked meridians in his fingertips began to clear slightly under the treatment. Mana that had been stagnant for so long began flowing again. The familiar sensation filled his body, and Xiao Wu raised his hand slightly: "It seems I can hold a sword now."

In the days right after his meridians were severed, Xiao Wu couldn't lift anything—even chopsticks were a struggle. Though he had recovered somewhat since, he still couldn't wield a sword.

Xie Shu: "That's good."

He opened the manual and began explaining the Art's techniques. Xiao Wu's comprehension was extraordinary—within moments, he managed to condense a trace of Mana within his broken meridians. But before he could rejoice, his face suddenly fell the next moment.