The original novel never once mentioned a ninth-grade pill cauldron.
After all, the original host had never even considered helping the Dragon-Heaven protagonist repair his meridians.
Consequently, the Dragon-Heaven protagonist’s circumstances in the original book were utterly miserable. Ignored within the sect and deliberately allowed to suffer bullying by others, he was an inner-sect disciple in name only, yet lacked even a shred of time for cultivation:
He had to rise before dawn to sweep the three thousand long steps, and more often than not, even when he swept them clean, they would be deliberately dirtied all over again.
At noon, he was required to stand guard at the medicine gardens or organize ancient texts, frequently growing so hungry that his stomach tied itself in knots.
As evening approached, he still had to go out and gather herbs. Only during that brief window between dinner and bedtime was he permitted to cultivate.
Enduring this day after day, the Dragon-Heaven protagonist relied on “stretching his muscles and bones, and starving his skin and flesh” to forcefully widen his meridians, completely bypassing the need for a ninth-grade pill cauldron.
As for the ninth-grade spiritual herbs required after widening his meridians, that was an entirely separate fortuitous encounter.
Reading through the original plot provided by the system, even Su Yunyu as a mere spectator held a deep contempt for the original host, deliberately subjecting the Dragon-Heaven protagonist to such grueling hardships purely for his own selfish desires.
If he were in the role of master.
Ah, forget it. He still had a mission to fulfill and a home world to return to.
Yet, for some reason, recalling Xiao Shuying’s tragic experiences, Su Yunyu couldn’t help but sigh inwardly:
So what if he’s the Dragon-Heaven protagonist? In the end, doesn’t he still have to endure endless suffering?
Within the mystic realm, the boundless expanse of heaven and earth stretched out infinitely. Xiao Shuying glanced sideways at Su Yunyu, who was trailing slightly behind him, doubt lurking deep within his eyes.
What on earth was this man trying to accomplish, going so far as to disregard sect rules and disguise his identity to come here?
Though he spoke of coming to assist him, someone like him was never truly kind-hearted.
Could it be that there was something he wanted hidden within this realm? Wait, could it be that he intends to kill me here?
The more he pondered, the more plausible this possibility seemed.
A cold, mocking sneer curved the corners of Xiao Shuying’s lips. Having figured this much out, he stopped wasting energy trying to second-guess Su Yunyu’s true intentions and simply asked with feigned ignorance:
“Master, do you happen to know where that ninth-grade pill cauldron is located?”
Su Yunyu halted his steps, wearing a look of sheer bewilderment beneath the cover of his mask.
He cast his gaze across the mystic realm: everywhere he looked were mountain gorges and towering, precipitous cliffs, connecting the boundless earth and racing across the endless plains.
A mystic realm this vast and intricate was never once mentioned in the original book—where on earth was he supposed to look for a ninth-grade pill cauldron?
The only clue was what Wenren Li had mentioned: that the cauldron was a relic left behind by an ancient mighty figure, hidden deep within a hidden dwelling.
It seemed they would simply have to rely on sheer luck. Reflecting on this, Su Yunyu put on a deep, unfathomable demeanor:
“Keep a closer watch for any hidden dwellings.”
“Understood,” Xiao Shuying replied. His mind wasn’t on the pill cauldron at all; instead, he was consumed by thoughts of how Su Yunyu planned to make his move over the next seven days.
Fairly speaking, striking a blow inside the mystic realm would be seamless, leaving behind no traces or clues. If he were in Su Yunyu’s position, he would do the exact same…
Well, not quite. No matter the time or place, he was the one who wanted Su Yunyu dead.
As they stepped onto a mountain trail, the paths ahead crisscrossed and intertwined. Faint footsteps, accompanied by indistinct murmuring voices, drifted over from not far away.
Within mere moments, the voices drew close enough to see. To his surprise, the approaching group consisted of Xiao Qingran and several other fellow disciples.
Xiao Qingran had never expected to run into Xiao Shuying in a mystic realm of this scale. A smirk playing on his lips, he opened his mouth to deliver a sarcastic remark, but his gaze suddenly caught sight of the person standing beside Xiao Shuying.
That person wore a sky-water blue robe and possessed a slender, delicate waist. He carried himself with the pure elegance of a wind spirit and a jade blossom. Regrettably, when Xiao Qingran tried to catch a glimpse of his true face, he discovered that he was wearing a mask.
The mask concealed everything except his eyes, yet those autumn-water, startled-swan pupils alone caused Xiao Qingran’s heart to skip an involuntary beat.
Strange, why do I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere before?
Since outsiders were present, Xiao Qingran naturally found it inconvenient to toss out his usual mockery. Instead, he put on an air of refined grace:
“I never expected to run into you here, Junior Brother. Might I ask who your companion is?”
“…” Xiao Shuying glanced at Su Yunyu, who was looking back at him. The man’s gaze was as calm and tranquil as water, yet Xiao Shuying read in it a clear reluctance to answer.
Thus, after waiting a few seconds and realizing Su Yunyu genuinely had no intention of speaking, Xiao Shuying pressed his lips together and fabricated an identity for him:
“This is a… senior brother of mine from within the sect.”
Even as he said the words, a wave of annoyance washed over him.
Since he dared to enter the mystic realm, why couldn’t he just find an proper identity to adopt?
In truth, Su Yunyu didn’t need to adopt any special identity; the Sect Master had fully permitted him to do this. His silence stemmed purely from his desire to maintain his character persona.
Please, he was playing the role of the aloof and cold-detached archetype. Even while wearing a mask, he wasn’t the type of person who enjoyed explaining himself to others.
That reply answered nothing at all. Xiao Qingran cast another glance at Su Yunyu, vaguely feeling that his ethereal temperament and extraordinary status were not to be trifled with, but unwilling to probe too deeply, he turned his attention back to Xiao Shuying:
“Junior Brother, you possess no cultivation. Would you like to travel with us? Your older brother can protect you.”
That casual use of the word “brother” caused Xiao Shuying’s eyes to darken, especially when he caught Xiao Qingran’s gaze repeatedly drifting toward the person standing beside him.
This must be what they called a meeting of kindred spirits—even though Su Yunyu was wearing a mask and dressed in white robes, he still managed to captivate Xiao Qingran’s attention so profoundly.
Likely, Su Yunyu also held a favorable view of this exceptionally talented, peerless junior nephew.
As for this pair of hypocritical master and disciple, Xiao Shuying had certainly not forgotten his sworn oath to cut them down with his own hands.
Refusing to entangle himself with them any further, he spoke with absolute bluntness:
“There’s no need.”
How could he dare travel with them? Originally, Su Yunyu wanted to kill him, and Xiao Qingran likely wanted him dead even more. If those two happened to hit it off, what chance of survival would he have left?
Thus, Xiao Shuying resolutely bypassed Xiao Qingran and forged ahead. As they brushed past each other, he chose to ignore Xiao Qingran’s abruptly darkening gaze and the subtle movement of his fingertips.
“Take care, Junior Brother, ”
Xiao Qingran’s unhurried voice drifted from behind, sounding precisely like an upright, magnanimous senior brother bathed in clear breeze and bright moonlight.
The moment those words faded, a faint, imperceptible scent seemed to materialize in the air for a fraction of a second. Having just stepped beyond arm’s reach, Xiao Shuying caught a whiff of this fragrance and instinctively tried to trace it, only for it to vanish entirely without a trace.
He froze in his tracks and glanced back. Xiao Qingran and the others had already walked far into the distance. Turning his head back, he looked toward Su Yunyu, who was gazing into the distance, seemingly lost in thought:
“Master”
“What is it?” Su Yunyu withdrew his gaze and looked over.
“Did Master notice any unusual scent just now?”
“Scent?” Su Yunyu furrowed his brows and sniffed the air. Aside from the refreshing fragrance of water and lush woods, there was not the slightest trace of any other odor. He shook his head:
“I smelled nothing.”
In truth, even if he had smelled it, he wouldn’t have known what it was.
After all, he wasn’t the original host; having cultivation was one thing, but possessing theoretical knowledge was quite another.
Right now, he essentially possessed raw cultivation and instinctive reactions, while his theoretical knowledge flickered on and off.
Seeing that Su Yunyu claimed ignorance, Xiao Shuying dropped the matter and continued climbing up the mountain trail.
Initially, he had wondered why Su Yunyu wasn’t walking in front. Su Yunyu had claimed he wanted to avoid drawing attention, which conveniently resulted in Xiao Shuying always walking a few paces ahead of him.
It certainly feels like he’s using me to scout the path…
After walking a short distance further, the system in Su Yunyu’s sea of consciousness alerted him:
[It seems there is a spiritual plant over on the eastern side; you might want to go check it out.]
After a brief moment of deliberation, Su Yunyu halted Xiao Shuying in his tracks:
“Wait here for a moment. There are spiritual energy fluctuations over on the eastern side; I am going to check it out.”
With that, he headed off toward the east. It was merely a single spiritual plant, after all—Xiao Shuying could just stay put right here. Besides, the boy was carrying protective magic treasures on his person anyway.
The moment Su Yunyu departed, Xiao Shuying dared not lower his guard for an instant. Gripping his sword tightly, he kept a vigilant watch over his surroundings, an ominous foreboding gnawing at his gut.
Just as his nerves were strung taut, a rustling disturbance echoed from not far away.
Xiao Shuying snapped his head toward the sound, watching as the motion rippled through a thicket of bushes until the branches parted and the foliage split wide open.
It was a massive python, its entire body glowing a fiery crimson. Hissing and darting its tongue, it reared its head aloft, its serpentine pupils burning crimson as it sized Xiao Shuying up with lethal intent.
This is an Earth-grade Netherfire Python! They naturally guarded rare heavenly treasures, why on earth would one appear out here in the open?
Furthermore, this python’s eyes radiated unadulterated hostility, completely contradicting the usual temperament of spirit beasts. Before Xiao Shuying could make sense of this absurd anomaly, a rustling flurry of movement erupted all around him as several more Netherfire Pythons slithered out from the undergrowth!
They formed a tight encirclement closing in from all four directions. The massive python that had appeared first shuddered its raised serpentine body before launching itself in a vicious lunge straight toward Xiao Shuying.
In a flash of lightning and flint, his mind tightened. Relying on the razor-sharp reflexes honed across multiple lifetimes, he sidestepped to evade the strike and lashed out with his sword.
Clang-crack! The python’s scales were razor-sharp, leaving behind nothing more than a faint white scratch, which only served to enrage the beast further.
This is bad. He possessed no cultivation, and his spiritual weapon wasn’t powerful enough; he was completely unequipped to handle this sudden crisis. Damn it, why did these pythons suddenly go berserk?
Wait a minute. As he parried and dodged with his sword, Xiao Shuying suddenly recalled the strange scent he had caught earlier, alongside the lingering malice behind Xiao Qingran’s parting words.
Nine times out of ten, this was Xiao Qingran’s handiwork. With the python’s relentless onslaught pressing him hard, he couldn’t even spare a free hand to snatch up his sound-transmission token.
As he struggled to evade the relentless attacks, Xiao Shuying’s thoughts drifted to Su Yunyu, who had just left.
Could it be that Su Yunyu had anticipated all of this long ago, and had deliberately abandoned him here precisely so that he would die a convenient death, courtesy of a seemingly natural tragedy born of favorable timing, geographical conditions, and human harmony?
That must be it. Otherwise, how else could it be that the moment he walked away, a pack of pythons appeared out of nowhere?
Xiao Shuying’s gaze darkened. Gritting his teeth, he slashed downward with his sword. Within the span of a few brief heartbeats, the fish-and-bird jade pendant hanging at his waist had already absorbed two heavy blows.
At this rate, he would genuinely perish beneath the fangs of these maddened spirit beasts. If Su Yunyu was deliberately refusing to help him, desperately pulling out his sound-transmission token would prove completely useless, he might as well just crush his life token and teleport out right now.
Yet, he had fought so hard to secure this qualification, and this mystic realm opened so rarely. He needed to find that pill cauldron; he needed to repair his meridians…
A thousand worries and anxieties tangled in his mind. Just as Xiao Shuying was caught in the agonizing dilemma of choosing, the sound of footsteps echoed from nearby.
Out of the corner of his eye, Xiao Shuying caught a glimpse of sky-water blue robes, instantly realizing that Su Yunyu had returned. Yet he deliberately refrained from crying out for help.
Instead, he purposefully let his strength collapse, tumbling flat to the ground while closing his eyes to wait for the giant python to bite down.
He wanted to see whether Su Yunyu truly intended to take advantage of this opportunity to murder him.
If that were the case, Su Yunyu would simply stand by and refuse to intervene.
Xiao Shuying braced himself for the tearing pain of the giant python’s fangs sinking into his flesh. Yet, after keeping his eyes tightly shut for a full breath, not only did no bite come, but the sharp, piercing resonance of a sword ringing out echoed right beside his ears.
Like snow falling without a trace, like ice melting in absolute silence, such a distinct sword hum could only belong to the Xuehua Sword.
A jolt went through Xiao Shuying’s heart. When he lifted his gaze once more, the giant pythons around him were already shattered into countless scattered fragments littering the ground.
Raising his head further, he saw the figure in sky-water blue standing tall right before him. His robes billowed gracefully against the wind, and his wide sleeves drifted like flowing mist. As he spun around, his long hair brushed across his mask, radiating an infinite, transcendent celestial grace. Unable to help himself, Xiao Shuying let slip a soft murmur:
“Master.”
He wore the expression of someone genuinely wronged, pitifully begging his master for protection.
Su Yunyu’s brows knitted into a fierce frown. Crouching down beside him, he offered no comforting words, but instead spoke with a tone of grief and indignation:
“If I hadn’t arrived in time, had you completely forgotten you even carried a life token?!”
Scolded so coldly and sharply by him, Xiao Shuying snapped back to his senses, belatedly realizing just how utterly humiliating his earlier “Master” murmur had sounded. He hastily clambered to his feet, brushed the dirt from his clothes, and put on a grievance-stricken facade:
“I was simply waiting for Master to return.”
Blame me for forgetting the life token, why don’t you blame yourself for abandoning me here in the first place?
How utterly hypocritical. For all he knew, even saving him was timed down to the exact second, he had probably just been standing aside watching the show as a spectator.
Otherwise, how could he have arrived with such miraculous punctuality?
If Su Yunyu had any inkling of what was running through the boy’s head right now, he would undoubtedly scream out in utter injustice. He hadn’t deliberately ditched the boy; he had simply reasoned that since Xiao Shuying lacked cultivation, dragging him along on a detour was unnecessary since he planned to return in a flash anyway.
Who could have predicted that within that brief blink of an eye, he would return to witness such a harrowing spectacle?
Only the system knew how violently his heart rate had spiked when he laid eyes on that scene. His scheme to win over the protagonist was far from complete—how could he possibly allow the Dragon-Heaven protagonist to suffer an untimely demise halfway through the story?
Moreover, a mere handful of oversized pythons clearly weren’t enough to actually claim Xiao Shuying’s life.
Therefore, without a second thought, he had rushed over, drawn his sword, and slaughtered the beasts. Reliving that terrifying moment still left him trembling with lingering fear; thus, ignoring Xiao Shuying’s feigned grievance, he said in a flat, cold tone:
“Remember this: no matter the circumstance, your own life is always what matters most.”