Standing in the Medicine King Valley's library, Yue Wuhuan looked at the treasured tomes of immortal techniques around him and felt as though he had entered a treasure trove.
Both Song Qingshi and his predecessor were the types who preferred not to fuss over life's mundane matters. The library was a restricted area, devoid of servants to clean, and so books and items were scattered about haphazardly. Only Song Qingshi himself knew their respective locations. After bringing Yue Wuhuan in, he instructed him to tidy the desk while he went to find the books he needed.
With effort, Yue Wuhuan tore his eyes away from the books and looked towards the daybed near the window. A low table in the middle of the daybed was piled high with hundreds of books, alongside dried ink and a stack of papers marred by corrections. It seemed like the place where his master normally read and rested.
He walked over and began to dutifully organize the books, only to discover a worn-out copy of "Nie's Poison Scripture" tucked away. Yue Wuhuan's breath caught for a moment; he realized the 'Nie' referred to the infamous Poison Master Nie Jue from thousands of years ago, who was a terror to the righteous path. The book likely contained various poison formulas developed by the Poison Master.
Casting a covert glance at Song Qingshi, who appeared unobservant of his actions, Yue Wuhuan sneakily opened the book and was delighted to find that it began with the recipe for "Thousand Mechanisms Powder," a colorless, odorless substance capable of killing cultivators below the level of Yuanying (Primal Infant)...
This method of killing, requiring no cultivation, was precisely what he had been fruitlessly seeking during his time at the Golden Phoenix Manor.
Yue Wuhuan quickly skimmed through the book, committing the formulas to memory.
Thousand Mechanisms Powder, Soul Devouring Incense, Puppetry Pills…
Each poison was like a sharp knife, keen and lethal.
Long-repressed murderous intent surged in him like a tumultuous tide, flooding his mind with various vicious methods for utilizing these poisons.
Unknown to all, his heart had long been forged into a demonic entity in the crucible of hell. He yearned not just for self-destruction, but for the annihilation of the whole corrupt world, himself included.
"This book isn't meant for you," came Song Qingshi's voice from behind him.
Gently closing the book, Yue Wuhuan slipped it back into the pile on the table and turned around nonchalantly. A compliant expression returned to his face as he offered a prepared excuse: "The book is quite old and its pages got scattered while I was tidying. Please forgive my carelessness, Master."
Setting down the stack of books he was holding, Song Qingshi picked up the "Poison Scripture," flipping through it and noticing, indeed, that some pages were loose.
With his gaze directed at the ground, Yue Wuhuan felt a light sheen of sweat form on his palms. He was highly on edge.
"You lack the basics; it's too early for you to delve into this book," Song Qingshi advised kindly, seemingly oblivious to his inner turmoil. "The principles of toxicology are similar to those of pharmacology. You should start by learning basic pharmacopoeia to identify herbs. For instance, the seeds of 'Heavenly Grass' and 'Swallow Orchid' look alike but have vastly different toxicities. Misusing them could cause significant issues. Begin with the basics, learn to discern herbs and grasp their pharmacology. After that, you can study pill concoction and finally explore this poison scripture."
Yue Wuhuan looked up abruptly, incredulous, and asked, "I can learn from the Poison Scripture?"
"Why not?" Song Qingshi was puzzled. After a moment, he handed the "Nie's Poison Scripture" back to Yue Wuhuan and reassured him, "I think you should have more confidence in yourself. The material in this poison scripture is not that difficult to grasp. You'll get the hang of it soon enough, but you'll have to be very cautious during the manufacturing process. Some of the substances can't even make contact with the skin, and a few are even airborne... If there's anything you don't understand, feel free to ask me anytime."
Was this a matter of confidence?
Yue Wuhuan was left utterly dumbfounded by this windfall and couldn't find his voice for a long while.
Oblivious to Yue Wuhuan's internal state, Song Qingshi continued to rain metaphorical pies down upon him, "If you have an interest in poisons, it would be beneficial to learn about concealed weapons and magical arrays as well. Using poisons becomes even more efficient that way. Later, I'll compile related books for you, and you're welcome to use my laboratory..."
Yue Wuhuan couldn't hold back anymore, interrupting the enthusiastic person before him: "Have you ever considered what I might use these things for?"
"I have," Song Qingshi said, his eyes full of relief. "I've been worried that the protagonist you are—so kind-hearted and easily bullied—is like a beautiful flower with no means of self-protection, vulnerable to being plucked by anyone. I'm also concerned that after I accomplish my mission, the system might withdraw me from this world, leaving you without protection and at risk of falling into danger once more. Don't be afraid, Wuhuan. Being beautiful is not your fault; it's the fault of those beasts. Whether it's magical artifacts, poisons, or hidden weapons—if this immortal realm is a jungle where the strong prey on the weak, you must have the means to protect yourself and prevent anyone from taking advantage of you."
"Is it wrong to not want to be violated?"
"Is it wrong to not want to be bullied?"
"Is it wrong to not want to do things I dislike?"
A gentle breeze brushed past the window, bringing with it a clean aroma that intermingled with the faint scent of medicinal herbs, stirring the heart.
Yue Wuhuan listened, stunned, to words he had never heard anyone say to him before. Each sentence felt like a surreal dream.
"From now on, let the world be incapable of ever humiliating you again."
...
Learning requires mutual discussion and collective advancement.
Song Qingshi loved study buddies, especially those intelligent enough to be his equals. The professors he followed were internationally renowned experts in medicine, and his senior classmates were all exceptionally gifted. He greatly missed the happy times spent learning and conducting experiments with them.
With Yue Wuhuan's high intellect and diligence, what more could one ask for in a study partner?
Elated, Scholarly Song quickly helped tidy up the books on the daybed and clean the table. After casting multiple cleaning spells, he set out spiritual tea and various pastries, lit incense to aid concentration, and then, pulling Yue Wuhuan to sit opposite him, began to read.
Yue Wuhuan felt somewhat unsettled. He surreptitiously observed for a long while, noticing that the person next to him was genuinely engrossed in reading, with no ulterior motives. Gradually, he too calmed down and began to read quietly.
At some point, dark clouds obscured the sunlight, and raindrops started pattering on the eaves, creating a rhythmic symphony. A damp breeze carried a few chilly droplets through the window, touching the readers within. Yue Wuhuan soon felt the chill. He got up, switched on the glowing orb, and gently closed the window curtains. When he turned around, he saw Song Qingshi was still engrossed in his book, oblivious to the change in the surrounding environment.
Slowly approaching, Yue Wuhuan cautiously lifted his beautiful eyes to get a detailed look at the person for the first time. In his mind, he etched an intimate portrait of this man who wore snow-colored garments and had skin as smooth as white jade—slightly disheveled hair, a face a bit too youthful, good-looking but not stunning. Yet, he had the clearest eyes in the world—unfamiliar with desire, untainted by filth—like a crystal that had accidentally fallen into the bustling mundane world, without being stained by a speck of worldly dust.
Yue Wuhuan observed him for a long, long time, and yet, his eyes never lifted.
It seemed that apart from the books that filled the room, nothing else could catch his eye or occupy his heart...
Suddenly, Yue Wuhuan found the whole situation rather amusing. If someone were to know that the rumored ill-tempered Medicine King Immortal and the notoriously charming Wuhuan were in a study, doing nothing but reading quietly for an entire day, wouldn't they find it utterly unbelievable?
One must have a form of obsession to achieve greatness.
Ultimate obsession breeds ultimate purity, transforming into one's true heart.
No one ever realized that the Medicine King Immortal was merely a bibliophile engrossed in the ocean of books; all his quirks originated from this obsession. Stripped of this frenetic shell, within lay the simplest of hearts...
Yue Wuhuan lowered his head, smiling silently for a long while, his smile gradually tinged with a hint of bitterness. He recalled their first encounter by the river, the sensation of fingers brushing over his hair and cheeks—a touch slightly warm. Had he known they would share such a moment, he would have endured any penalty to present himself in a better light, to avoid revealing an unflattering side.
Night fell, the sound of rain ceased, the moon peeked out, and insects chirped among the grass.
The study felt like a world apart, insulated from external changes. Devoid of clamor or intrusion, there was only the soft rustle of turning pages and a persistent, lingering scent of medicinal herbs.
Yue Wuhuan looked at his book, feeling an unprecedented sense of peace...
How wonderful would it be if this could last a lifetime?
Song Qingshi suddenly set down his book and began scribbling on paper with a brush.
Curious, Yue Wuhuan leaned to look, only to find that Song was writing quickly and urgently. His handwriting was so messy it was almost illegible, but it appeared to be a list of herbs.
All at once, Song stopped, lost in thought, inadvertently smudging his left hand with wet ink. Oblivious, he lifted his hand to support his chin, leaving a black mark on his face.
Yue Wuhuan found himself fixated on that black mark, finding it incredibly jarring.
After hesitating for a long moment, he finally took out a handkerchief and carefully wiped it away, removing the stain that marred the untainted image in his heart.
Song Qingshi finally snapped back to reality, realizing it was already dark outside. Seeing the ink stains on the handkerchief in Yue Wuhuan's hand, he became aware of his own folly and said apologetically, "I tend to lose track of time when I read. Are you hungry? Feel free to wake me up next time."
Yue Wuhuan shook his head with a smile, "I was engrossed as well; I didn't realize it had gotten late."
"Here, have some," Song Qingshi pushed all the pastries on the table toward him. "I've undergone grain avoidance; I won't get hungry."
Yue Wuhuan didn't decline, picking up a piece of hibiscus cake. He thought for a moment and casually introduced a topic, "My Lord, you seem deeply engrossed. Are you researching some important formula?"
Song Qingshi organized the scattered papers on the table and answered, "It's called the 'Six Meridians Revival Soup.'"
The hand holding the hibiscus cake froze, and Yue Wuhuan stared at him, dumbstruck.
"It's what you'll be taking later," Song Qingshi scratched his head, searching for the right words, "This medicine can reopen your blocked meridians. However, I tested the formula and found it to be extremely painful; you might not be able to endure it. I'm considering methods to alleviate the pain, whether to slow the medicinal effect or numb the pain receptors. I might need to run several more tests..."
If the meridians are cleared, then the hope of returning to the path of immortality emerges...
Why would he go to such lengths for him?
"My Lord," Yue Wuhuan found his voice trembling, "I'm not afraid of pain..."
"No one is truly immune to pain; that's why medicine seeks various ways to alleviate suffering. Severe pain can even cause shock," Song Qingshi looked down at the paper in his hand, stating the obvious, "I don't want you to endure that kind of agony."
Why can't he bear to see him in pain?
Why is he treating him so well?
Why?
Yue Wuhuan was desperate to know the answer.
Finally, he voiced the question that had been haunting him.
Song Qingshi wasn't familiar with the tropes of system novels, which usually required keeping secrets from the protagonist, nor did he know what "OOC" meant. However, his intuition told him that Yue Wuhuan wasn't yet ready to handle such an absurd truth. Not keen on lying, he hesitated for a long time. Just when Yue Wuhuan thought he wouldn't get an answer, Song Qingshi gave an apologetic smile.
He recalled the day he was reborn, the beautiful ray of sunshine that dispelled the clouds in his heart.
A small act of kindness that made him unafraid of a world unknown.
"You once wished me good luck for the night; I wish for a lifetime of good luck with you."