Mount Qingxuan was famous throughout the world for its sword techniques, though it had gradually declined over the past few generations.
As a result, the third floor of the Scripture Pavilion was almost entirely filled with sword cultivation mental techniques left behind by previous seniors. Generally, ordinary outer disciples lacked the authorization to enter the third floor, and even if they managed to step inside, they would be scorched by the piercing sword qi.
In the original novel, Zeng Youran seemed to lack the authorization to enter the Scripture Pavilion because Eldest Senior Brother Fang Ping forbade it. The more restraints were placed on Zeng Youran, the more rebellious he became; forbidden to enter, he went in anyway.
Consequently, not only was he scorched by the sword qi upon entering the third floor, but he also embarked on a crooked, demonic path, which became the critical turning point that directly led to a complete rupture between Zeng Youran and Fang Ping.
Fortunately, Qiao Yiting’s current cultivation was already approaching the Golden Core stage, allowing him to move freely on the third floor of the book pavilion.
Looking at the books and sword manuals on the shelves, he felt a momentary trance, as if he had returned to his college days. Medical textbooks were unusually thick and heavy, and during the grind for the postgraduate entrance exams, he had spent all seasons immersed in the library, thumbing those textbooks and exercise problem sets until they were utterly worn out.
Yet now, stranded in a foreign world, he had no idea whether the knowledge he had spent eight grueling years of bitter study to acquire would still have any useful outlet.
Habitually raising his hand to push up his glasses, he only then snapped back to reality, he had already broken free from the shackles of glasses and transmigrated into another Qiao Yiting.
“Sigh, a dignified sect leader plays hide-and-seek whenever he pleases. Playing hide-and-seek is one thing, but he even locks all the disciples in confinement. Could it be he’s afraid the disciples will all run off once they realize there’s no real substance here!”
He casually strolled over to the first bookshelf, wanting to open a sword manual before him for study. The moment he flipped it open, a wave of sword qi surged straight toward him, exceptionally sharp and fierce.
Qiao Yiting instantly flung the book aside, trying to dodge the piercing sword qi, but it was already too late. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for another death, only to discover that the sword qi hadn’t harmed him at all.
“My god, what on earth was that, scared me to death,” Qiao Yiting patted his chest, soothing his rapidly accelerating heart due to fear.
Picking up the book he had tossed onto the floor, he suddenly discovered an extra set of imagery imprinted in his mind. It was as if someone were performing sword forms for him inside his head, every single move and stance crystal clear.
When he opened the second book, Qiao Yiting had already braced himself mentally, but the biting sword qi failed to arrive. Instead, Qiao Yiting was pulled into another illusion. Within the illusion, he witnessed all sorts of people vividly demonstrating various sword techniques one by one.
Good grief, this thing was way more powerful than VR, Qiao Yiting marveled inwardly.
Thus, Qiao Yiting seemed to have found a new source of entertainment to pass the time in this boring world. Treating sword manuals as amusement, it felt just like watching a few martial arts movies. It wasn’t until he finished browsing the books on the very first shelf that he finally felt a sense of disorientation.
“Just watching without practicing makes you a fraud,” Qiao Yiting pressed his fingers against his forehead, deciding to walk out of the book pavilion and find somewhere to practice the sword techniques newly imprinted in his mind.
Walking while recalling the sword techniques, relying entirely on his intuition, he had no idea where his feet were taking him. It wasn’t until he heard Fang Ping’s furious roar that he snapped out of it, remembering this was one of the major plot points in the original text.
Qiao Yiting racked his brain to recall: in the original novel, it seemed to be because Zeng Youran was too exhausted the day before, falling asleep somewhere and delaying the task of fetching water for Eldest Senior Brother Fang Ping to wash up, which greatly displeased Fang Ping, who assumed Zeng Youran was slacking off and hiding to avoid work.
“Hah, your courage has grown, and your wings are stiff now, huh?” Fang Ping brandished a soft whip in his hand, lashing it down toward the person kneeling on the ground. “Where were you hiding last night?!”
Qiao Yiting knew very well that he was no hero ready to leap out and fight injustice. Besides, he figured comforting Zeng Youran after he suffered injury would yield a much better emotional impact. Hence, he planned to slip away quietly before the eldest senior brother noticed, after all, minding one’s own business beat asking for trouble.
Yet that trace of an impulse to run away was completely crushed the instant the person kneeling on the ground raised his head.
He thought to himself: Crap, he saw me. There’s no escaping now.
Just as Fang Ping raised his whip for a second strike, Qiao Yiting intercepted it mid-air.
“Senior Brother, what are you doing?”
Seeing the sudden appearance of his junior brother, the anger on Fang Ping’s face subsided considerably. “Sixth Junior Brother, your injuries haven’t fully healed yet. Why aren’t you resting on your bed recuperating instead of running all the way over here to catch whips?”
With that, he tried to yank his whip back. Qiao Yiting had caught the sting in his words, though it was hard to act on it right away. “I heard from Fifth Senior Sister yesterday that I’d been lying down for quite a few days. If I didn’t get up and stretch my limbs, I was afraid they’d atrophy.”
Though his tone remained polite, the strength in his grip didn’t lessen by an ounce. The whip remained deadlocked between the two of them as each exerted force.
“Eldest Senior Brother, I reckon Master certainly didn’t teach us to treat fellow sect members this way, especially since you were the one who assigned Junior Brother to take care of me yesterday, weren’t you?”
Standing nearby, Second Senior Brother Shi Kai watched the tense atmosphere between the two and thought about smoothing things over. “Sixth Junior Brother…”
The moment Shi Kai opened his mouth, Qiao Yiting abruptly released his tight grip on the whip. Caught off guard, Fang Ping staggered backward and landed flat on his rear.
“Ah, Second Senior Brother is here too. Why didn’t you try to persuade Eldest Senior Brother?”
Shi Kai was the sort of person who looked benevolent on the surface, but inwardly harbored more petty calculations than anyone else, a thorough snob.
Recalling the novel’s description, Qiao Yiting remembered that Shi Kai had blindly followed Fang Ping in brutally abusing Zeng Youran during the early stages, and later tried to act as Zeng Youran’s bootlicker once Zeng Youran grew powerful. Unfortunately, while Zeng Youran utilized him, he never held any respect for him.
However, he hadn’t reached this character’s ultimate fate yet. Sweeping a disdainful, up-and-down glance over him, Qiao Yiting thought: His end probably wasn’t pretty either.
“Sixth Junior Brother, you know Eldest Senior Brother’s temperament. Besides, we’re all fellow disciples, why make things go this far?” While speaking, Shi Kai reached down to pull the eldest senior brother back up.
“Pardon me, I’m not entirely clear on Eldest Senior Brother’s temperament, I only saw him bullying a fellow disciple for no reason.”
Fang Ping retrieved his whip, shoved Shi Kai aside, and narrowed his eyes as he stared straight at him. “I did exactly that. With Master currently away from the sect, as Eldest Senior Brother, do I lack the authority to discipline you lot?”
Before Qiao Yiting could retort, Fang Ping paced forward, jabbing the tip of his whip against Qiao Yiting’s chest. “The tasks I assigned him weren’t done properly, shouldn’t I punish him? Sixth Junior Brother, don’t think that just because you’ve recovered from a serious illness, I wouldn’t dare do anything to you! An elder brother is like a father, no matter what, you still have to call me Eldest Senior Brother!”
Hearing this, Qiao Yiting couldn’t help rolling his eyes inwardly, thinking: Such nerve. What kind of elder brother do you think you are?
“What’s that look on your face!”
Looking somewhat impatient, Qiao Yiting brushed the whip away from his chest. “Eldest Senior Brother teaches rightly… I’ll be more mindful in the future. Moreover, I’d like to stretch my limbs here and test the results of my closed-door cultivation. It just so happens I’ll have Junior Brother try out some new moves for me.”
With that, he drew his sword, feigning a posture as though about to swing it.
“You!” Fang Ping wore an expression as though he’d just swallowed a fly. He’d expected to intimidate Qiao Yiting, only for the latter to deflect it effortlessly using four ounces to move a thousand pounds. He couldn’t win a physical fight against him, and arguing with him felt like punching a mound of cotton.
Suddenly, as if recalling something else, Fang Ping sneered. “Hah, I was wondering what Sixth Senior Brother was up to. Turns out you’re just doing the exact same thing we are.”
“Since Sixth Senior Brother wants to practice his sword here, we won’t intrude any further. Eldest Senior Brother, let’s head back first.” Before leaving, Shi Kai didn’t forget to turn back and urge Qiao Yiting to find time to apologize to the eldest senior brother.
Although Qiao Yiting nodded in agreement, that was far from what he was thinking internally. As he cursed both Fang Ping and Shi Kai up and down in his mind, something suddenly tugged at the hem of his robe, startling him enough to leap back a full step.
Looking down, he saw Zeng Youran still kneeling obediently on the ground, asking weakly, “Senior Brother, may I get up now?”
“Oh dear, Junior Brother, you scared the life out of me.” Qiao Yiting hurried forward to check his injuries. Gazing at the raw, lacerated wounds, his occupational reflex flared up instantly. “Your wounds are far too deep. You need someone to disinfect them first, and then stitch them up, seriously, I’d say they need at least three stitches.”
Zeng Youran had been kneeling for quite a while. Remaining in that kneeling posture, he glanced down toward his arm and asked, “Does Eldest Senior Brother’s whip have poison on it?”
“I mean… your wounds look a bit startling.” Qiao Yiting instinctively rubbed the bridge of his nose, offering an unnatural smile. “Can you walk?”
Zeng Youran raised his head and flashed a faint, shallow smile. “I can. Thank you just now, Senior Brother.”
Watching him struggle painfully to his feet, Qiao Yiting felt it inappropriate to step in directly, so he hovered close behind with his hands outstretched in a floating support. “Then hurry and go find Fourth Senior Brother so he can treat you.”
Zeng Youran froze for a moment, lifting his gaze to look at him in confusion. “Didn’t Sixth Senior Brother want me to accompany you for sword practice?”
“That was just… I randomly picked an excuse to chase Eldest Senior Brother away.” Meeting the boy’s bewildered gaze, Qiao Yiting casually reached out to pinch his cheek gently. “Otherwise, Eldest Senior Brother and the others wouldn’t have let you off so easily. Off you go!”
Zeng Youran nodded, yet felt a lingering sense of doubt in his heart. What on earth was this Sixth Senior Brother trying to pull? Was he truly not in cahoots with Eldest Senior Brother? Zeng Youran still dared not believe that anyone on the entirety of Mount Qingxuan would dare defy Fang Ping.
“Thank you, Senior Brother.” Though offering verbal thanks, Zeng Youran resolved in his heart to stay as far away from this Sixth Senior Brother as possible. Judging by his actions, he’d already offended Eldest Senior Brother, if he got implicated by him, his situation might turn even worse.
Qiao Yiting had no bandwidth to spare for the skepticism visible on Zeng Youran’s face. Right now, he was suffering a severe headache over his actions and words before Fang Ping. He was a good-for-nothing weakling himself, yet he’d gone and provoked Fang Ping. It seemed Fang Ping didn’t merely target Zeng Youran specifically, but practiced indiscriminate hostility instead. If so, what did his previous concern amount to?
Was it a weasel paying respects to a chicken?
A memory suddenly flashed back into his mind of what Su Qingyu had said when he first woke up: It’s all Eldest Senior Brother’s fault…
He figured the original body had probably been treated by the eldest senior brother much like Zeng Youran was now. Thinking of this, Qiao Yiting felt a renewed surge of sympathy for the original body.
Watching Zeng Youran drag his frail, thin figure as he walked slowly away, a sudden wave of reluctance welled up inside him, and he took long strides to catch up.
“Junior Brother, I will go with you.”