Xue Laohu burst through the doors of the inn, soaked in sweat and desperation, his arms wrapped tightly around Xue Tuzi's frail and burning body. "Someone—please! Call a physician!" he shouted, his voice hoarse with urgency. The innkeeper scrambled from behind the desk and sent a servant running into the storm-slick streets.
Inside the dim room, the scent of damp wood and stale incense clung to the walls. Xue Laohu carefully laid Xue Tuzi down on the bed. His body convulsed with tremors, teeth clenched in silent agony as fever flushed his cheeks a violent red. He groaned, barely conscious, each breath a struggle as beads of sweat streamed down his temples.
The door slammed open. "Shizun!" Li Zhameng rushed in, robes fluttering like startled wings. His face paled the moment he laid eyes on Xue Tuzi's condition. "What happened?" he asked, falling to his knees beside the bed.
"I don't know," Xue Laohu murmured, brushing a soaked strand of hair from Xue Tuzi's brow. "He was collapsed inside of a cave. He hasn't stopped shaking since."
Moments later, the physician arrived—a grizzled man in dusty robes, his medicine chest clinking with every step. He knelt beside Xue Tuzi, silent and focused as he placed two fingers on his wrist. He closed his eyes, searching the chaotic pulse lines with his spiritual sense. After a long moment, he exhaled heavily.
"His qi is being corrupted," he said grimly. "There's something foreign… parasitic. Demonic in nature." He gently slid Xue Tuzi's arm back under the covers and produced a needle filled with glowing amber liquid. "This should ease the pain for now."
The moment the tranquilizer pierced his skin, Xue Tuzi's body arched violently. He twisted, sweat pouring from him in rivulets before he finally stilled, his limbs slackening as exhaustion overtook him.
Xue Laohu looked up. "How do we get rid of it?" he asked, eyes wide with fear.
The doctor hesitated. "Once a demonic parasite latches onto its host's spiritual core, it's nearly impossible to remove. I'm sorry, but your disciple is as good as dead."
Li Zhameng flinched. "No… There has to be a way."
The doctor shook his head. "The parasite feeds on the host's essence. Once it has consumed enough, it will hatch."
"Hatch?" Xue Laohu echoed, a chill crawling up his spine.
"Yes," the physician confirmed solemnly. "The incubation period is three months. I've never heard of a host surviving the hatching process. When the creature emerges, it tears through body and soul alike. There's nothing left."
Silence fell like a shroud.
Then the doctor stood, reaching into his pouch and handing Xue Laohu a few slender vials. "These will keep his suffering to a minimum. But I won't lie to you, if you care for your disciple, truly care for him, the kindest thing may need to do…is end his life."
Xue Laohu's hand tightened around the vials. End it? Ridiculous. Unthinkable.
As the door closed behind the physician, Li Zhameng's voice trembled behind him. "Shizun… what do we do? What will happen to A-Tuzi?"
Xue Laohu's fists clenched. "We go back to Mount Dingbu," he said, his voice low and resolute. "Perhaps the Great Sage will know a cure."
The journey back was harrowing. Xue Tuzi screamed intermittently, his cries echoing through the night like a dying animal. More than once, his body convulsed so violently in Xue Laohu's arms that Li Zhameng feared he wouldn't survive the ride. But the three of them pressed on, each li a battle between hope and despair.
When they finally reached the gates of Mount Dingbu, dawn was just breaking. Xue Laohu wasted no time, carrying Xue Tuzi into his own quarters. He burned calming incense, the air thick with the scent of sandalwood and crushed lotus seeds. Li Zhameng helped grind the healing herbs, bitter and pungent, until the room filled with the hiss of boiling medicine.
But Xue Tuzi could barely swallow. The moment the concoction touched his lips, he sputtered and choked, his body seizing again. His limbs flailed. Foam formed at the corners of his mouth. His eyes, when they opened, were wild and glassy—haunted.
A loud, unnatural cough rang inside Xue Laohu's head, sharp and jarring. His vision blurred. Out of nowhere, a blinding neon screen flickered to life in front of his eyes, casting eerie light across the room. His thoughts scattered like startled birds. He stumbled back, disoriented, heart racing.
"What… what is it now?" he whispered, staring at the ghostly letters forming on the screen.
Something had changed.
NEW MISSION: PARASITIC HATCH
ENSURE SHOU MC BECOMES THE PERFECT HOST FOR THE DEMONIC PARASITE
REWARD: 1000 LIFE POINTS
+500 LIFE POINTS FOR THRIVING PARASITE
His pupils shrank. The glowing letters burned across his vision in harsh neon, each word seared into his retinas like some divine decree.
"What?" he rasped, stumbling back. His knees hit the cold floor, as he stared up at the floating screen, its unnatural hum vibrating deep in his bones.
FAILURE TO DO SO WILL RESULT IN NARRATOR IMMINENT DEATH
The words pulsed red.
His breath hitched. "No—no no no!" His voice cracked with panic, but no one seemed to hear. The room's atmosphere shifted. The air felt heavier. Xue Tuzi moaned softly on the bed, his body twitching under the blanket. The scent of incense and blood mingled, thick and oppressive.
At that moment, the door slid open with a whisper. "Shizun," Li Zhameng called, noticing him hunched in the corner. "What's wrong?"
Xue Laohu jolted, hiding his trembling hands behind him. "I—I'm fine," he lied, voice thin. "Just… dizzy."
Li Zhameng entered, his brows deeply furrowed. Behind him came the Great Sage—an old man draped in worn modest robes. His long, snow-white beard flowed down to his waist, and his sharp eyes glinted beneath bushy brows like blades of cold insight.
He entered the room with slow, creaking steps, his thin frame bent from age and wisdom carried across centuries. The Great Sage's long, scraggly beard hung like moss from his chin, and his weathered face was drawn with the weight of knowledge few dared to seek. His presence, though frail in appearance, carried an ancient gravity that silenced the room.
Xue Tuzi lay twisted in the sheets, drenched in cold sweat. His skin burned like sun-scorched stone, and every muscle beneath his flesh twitched with involuntary spasms. Veins bulged unnaturally, pulsing with sickly dark qi that snaked beneath the skin like coiled worms. Anything that touched his lips—water, broth, bitter medicine—was instantly rejected. He vomited in violent fits, his body arching in agony as the parasite writhed within him, gnawing hungrily at his insides.
The Great Sage approached the bed without a word. He extended two fingers, hovering just above Xue Tuzi's forehead, eyes narrowing as he traced the corrupted flow of qi through Xue Tuzi's meridians. A frown creased his brow. He let out a slow, knowing sigh.
"His spiritual sea is storming," the Great Sage murmured, "and something else… something vile is nesting at the core of his dantian." He opened his eyes slowly. "A demonic parasite, indeed."
"Your disciple's cultivation is impressive," he said, his voice a low murmur of wind through pine. "But the parasite has already rooted itself deep within his core. Too deep. Extraction would kill him outright."
"These parasites do not merely feed—they rewrite. They reshape the soul, the body, the fate of the host. And when they hatch—" he paused, his eyes narrowing—"the host are no longer what they once were."
Xue Laohu's breath caught. "Then… what are you saying?"
The old man turned to face him, eyes clouded with inevitability. "Allow the parasite to continue cultivating. Do not resist it. I believe your disciple is strong enough to survive land spawn it."
"Spawn it?" Li Zhameng echoed, horrified.
The Sage stroked his beard thoughtfully, his gaze drifting back to the bed. Xue Tuzi groaned, his body curling like a wilting flower under the weight of its own suffering. "Yes. It will grow stronger within him, preparing to hatch. If his body holds out, the process will be complete. For now, make him as comfortable as you can. I'll prepare a prescription to lessen his pain. Ensure he drinks it twice a day."
He moved slowly to a desk, his brush scratching across parchment as he wrote. Once done, he handed the prescription to Xue Laohu, then left with a quiet rustle of his robes, disappearing like mist into the hall.
Xue Loahu's heart pounded as the words of the mission burned once more in the corner of his vision.
ENSURE SHOU MC BECOMES THE PERFECT HOST…
1000 LIFE POINTS.
500 FOR THRIVING PARASITE.
FAILURE = DEATH.
A sick nausea churned in his gut. Is this some kind of sick game? Why is this happening? His thoughts were a screaming, tangled mess—but in the midst of the chaos, one realization rang clear and cold:
If I want to survive… he has to stay infected.
He looked at Xue Tuzi—his sweat-soaked brow, the tremors running through his frame—and hated the thought that crept into his mind.
But he couldn't deny it.
He had to make sure the parasite lived.
No matter what it did to Xue Tuzi.
And so began the long months of torment.
Xue Laohu never left Xue Tuzi's side. Every hour of every day was spent tending to him—wiping his sweat-drenched skin with cooling cloths, spooning bitter medicine to lips that always refused it, holding his trembling body through the long nights of suffering. The room reeked of herbs and vomit, of scorched incense and old blood. Fever after fever wracked Xue Tuzi's body, each one threatening to tear him apart from the inside.
In the dead of night, Xue Tuzi would awaken screaming, his voice raw and cracked. Inside his belly the parasite's movements were visible beneath the skin like something trying to claw its way free. His sobs echoed against the walls, breath hitching in his throat as pain fractured him into pieces.
"Shizun…I can't…" he sobbed, curled into a shaking ball. His voice was barely more than a whisper, raw and broken. "Please… kill me. I beg you. Please, Shizun. End it…"
His fingers clutched at Xue Laohu's sleeves with what little strength he had left. His eyes, glassy and red, were full of fear and despair.
But Xue Laohu said nothing.
He only pulled the disciple into his arms, forcing steady qi into his failing meridians, whispering hollow reassurances through clenched teeth. "You'll be alright… A-Tuzi… You're strong. Just hold on."
All the while, he ignored the horror swelling beneath his hands.
He ignored the screams.
Ignored the guilt.
Because he had to ensure he accomplished the mission given to him by the system.
Ultra Super Blah Blah Blah:
I wanted to talk about the parasite. It is loosely based on Giardia and Roundworms. Giardia is an intestinal parasite that can be contracted from unclean water, contaminated food, or through sexual intercourse involving feces. Some of the symptoms are diarrhea, bloating, nausea and fever. Infected people experience fatigue and weight loss.
Xue Tuzi's symptoms are based on Giardia although I took creative liberties in making the contamination come from Shudu's third eye opposed to…
The parasite itself will look like a Roundworm. A roundworm matures within 2-3 months. Much like Giardia, Roundworms can be contracted via contamination. The ingested eggs will travel to the small intestine and make themselves home, there they will hatch and become larvae. The tiny larvae will then penetrate the intestinal wall and make its way into the bloodstream. The bloodstream will then carry them to the heart and lungs where they will nestle. The irritation of the parasite will naturally cause coughing which will lead up to the throat and then swallowed back for a second time returning them back to the small intestine.
Such is the life cycle of a little worm parasite.
But fear not Xue Tuzi only has one parasitic worm and is receiving medication to manage it.