CH 102

Chapter 102: Ten Thousand Crags and Torrents



The scholar-tyrant ran to the exam room only to find that his test paper was missing… 



Song Qingshi received an unprecedented major blow. Unwilling to give up, he wandered around a few times. Once he was sure that he couldn’t find the target, his mind was thrown into confusion. According to Fu Donglai’s personality described in the original work, Qu Yurong must have already been rendered indescribable by now. Did this mean that his mission was a failure?



He tried to ask Sword Master Mo Yuan in his mind what he was supposed to do now…



Sword Master Mo Yuan’s formation was a lot better than the unreliable Professor System, and the answer automatically popped out: choose ‘failed’, and immediately withdraw from the task.



This was just a formation, not the real world. There was no meaning to staying poor, ugly and mute. 



Song Qingshi felt a little like wanting to quit and receive a consolation prize, but thinking about the young man in his house who seemed to be linked in countless ways to Feng Jun, he could feel the wrongness from head to foot. He simply couldn’t bring himself to choose to give up. He went to the shop to buy some rice and food, and walked home with heavy footsteps. He wanted to see Wuhuan again. He wanted to make him something to eat. After that, he’ll think about what he’ll do in the future…



Wuhuan put on his clothes and sat up in bed. He earnestly dipped his finger in water, and practiced stroke by stroke on the wooden board with the carved word. He heard the familiar footsteps outside the door. He quickly picked up the wooden plank, and happily handed it over. “You’re back, come and have a look. Did I write them correctly?”



The fourteen-year-old boy had cast away his calculating and scheming in the dark, revealing his true nature.



He successfully left hell, and was ready to start a new life. He had a new plan in mind.



Song Qingshi hesitantly looked at the wooden board. Every word was written crooked and askew. The strokes were correct, but he couldn’t see their positions, and the words were superimposed on each other, making them messy and indistinguishable. He couldn’t say any words of praise, so he took Wuhuan’s hand and placed it on his head. He nodded vigorously like a puppy, expressing his great approval; he approved of it very much.



“You’re so interesting,” Wuhuan was amused by him. He rubbed his dry, long hair and then retracted his hand. He asked, feeling embarrassed, “If… I learn these words, I can understand what you’re saying, right?”



Song Qingshi was stunned.



“You are so kind,” Wuhuan cherishingly stroked the writing on the board. He then lowered his head, raising his long black hair, covering his ears that were starting to burn. Voice very soft, he said, “No one has ever treated me this way before. …” 



He was a useless blind man and he couldn’t think of anything he could give to pay him back.



“I have nowhere to go. Can you let me stay?” Wuhuan asked cautiously, “Although I can’t see, I’m very smart. I won’t cause you trouble. I can cook and clean up. I will try my best to learn words and figure out what you mean. I can be your voice and speak for you…”

We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.

Ktfrf atlcur mbeivc’a yf mbcrlvfgfv jr gfqjswfca ja jii. Lf kbeiv pera yf j yegvfc bc atf batfg.



Qetejc’r ojmf oiertfv klat rtjwf, jcv tf kjr j ilaaif ugjafoei atja tf mbeivc’a rff atf batfg’r fzqgfrrlbc. 



Lf ofia ilxf j vgbkclcu qfgrbc, mieamtlcu bcab qlfmf bo qjrrlcu vgloakbbv, agslcu ab mgjki bcab la vfrqlaf xcbklcu atja atlr qlfmf bo vgloakbbv kjr rb kfjx, la wluta cba yf jyif ab mjggs tlr kfluta. Ccv sfa, tf ralii mbeivc’a ifa ub. Lf kjr abb jrtjwfv bo tlr bkc vfrqlmjyifcfrr jcv mbeivc’a yfjg ab rtbk tlr ojmf…



Wuhuan’s head drooped lower and lower, until it was almost buried in the quilt.



Song Qingshi’s eyes were a little blurry with tears. He couldn’t think anymore. The Feng Jun in his mind overlapped with Wuhuan in front of him. He felt that in the memory he had lost, he had seen Wuhuan looking more miserable and helpless than he was now. So long as he thought about it for even a moment, his heart would throb with so much pain. No matter what Sword Master Mo Yuan’s mission actually was, whether this was a fantasy or a memory, he didn’t care. As long as the person in front of him was Wuhuan, Feng Jun’s past, it was enough.



After his heart made a decision, he immediately relaxed. 



Song Qingshi felt his entire person go completely at ease.



He wiped away his tears, sat on Wuhuan’s bed and touched those beautiful eyes. He earnestly mouthed a promise to him: ‘Don’t be afraid, I won’t leave. I will heal your eyes; heal your body; heal your heart. No matter how difficult it is, I will never give up…’



“It’s like I’ve already heard your answer, in my heart,” Wuhuan tightly grasped his gentle hands and put them to his ears, carefully sensing the sound of their two hearts beating. This was a happiness that couldn’t be expressed in words. After a long time, with eyes turned red, “Thank you, I’m so happy.”



Song Qingshi took the wooden board and the small knife once again and began teaching him words. 



Wuhuan sniffed the clean smell of medicine on his body and leaned over.



Song Qingshi grabbed his hand and repeatedly wrote stroke after stroke on the wooden board. Every time he taught a new character, he would hold the utensils or gesticulate, making all sorts of strange movements, letting him guess what the word was. Wuhuan would always guess wrong countless times and go towards a lot of ridiculous tangents before guessing the correct answer.



For example, he found a blue stone and tried to make Wuhuan understand that his name was: Qingshi, Qingshi, Qingshi…



Wuhuan touched it for a long time and understood. “You’re called ‘stone’.” 



Song Qingshi: “…”



The two put their heads together and kept laughing. Even the simplest house was the most comfortable nest.



…



The test paper in the examination room was misplaced. Even if he’d been careless, maybe one day the test paper will fly back? 



Song Qingshi decided he was not going to give up. He was going to stay by Wuhuan’s side until Sword Master Mo Yuan declares that he’s failed the mission and kicks him out of the formation. Although the immortal realm was very big, maybe he’d be lucky enough to stumble across Qu Yurong? At that time, he’ll bring him back, wash his brain, heal his mental state, and relieve him of his Stockholm syndrome. Even if he doesn’t get one hundred points, he could get sixty. And if he fails, he’ll hold onto the teacher’s thigh and see if he could take a make-up exam.



A happy day counts as a day, a happy year counts as a year…



Song Qingshi got over it, and he was also no longer over-cautious when dealing with matters. He put all his energy on Wuhuan. He picked herbs and decocted medicine every day. He gave rehabilitating massages, as well as cleaned and washed Wuhuan. The first time Song Qingshi tried to help Wuhuan relieve himself in bed, a strange misunderstanding once again occurred. Face flushed, Wuhuan held onto his pants and absolutely refused to take them off. It took a long time before he understood the other’s intentions. He then obeyed with all subsequent cleaning of his body.



He didn’t dare to resist, he obediently received his treatment. He only hoped to quickly get rid of this shameful condition of being unable to move in bed. 



Fortunately, Wuhuan was a wood-type spiritual root, his wound healing ability was very good. Coupled with the assistance of various immortal medicines, he was bedridden for only about a month, during which he learned more than two hundred characters. By then, he could get out of bed with the support of the cane and practice walking around. He quickly figured out the layout of the house. After fumbling several times, he quickly learned to clean and tidy up.



The pressure on Song Qingshi’s shoulders eased a lot.



His cooking ability was very poor. He could only cook plain rice porridge and clear broth noodles. The one time he tried to cook chicken soup, he created a strange taste. It was dark and had every flavor under the sun. He almost made Wuhuan throw up from how bad it tasted. Wuhuan forced himself to eat it. As a result, he developed indigestion in his stomach and intestines, and needed to take several more doses of medicine.



Song Qingshi felt extremely guilty and vowed to learn how to cook. 



Wuhuan finally knew why he was so thin. Despite the risk of offending his benefactor, he persuaded him to abandon his idea to study cooking. He then started cooking himself, feeling the steam temperature with his hands, memorizing the arrangement of the seasonings. He practiced several times and using the technique of stewing and boiling, he produced many kinds of porridge and soup. He also studied how to cook rice and make steamed buns. Every day, he practically force fed Song Qingshi. Before going to bed, he would grab him to touch his bones and weigh him to see if he was gaining weight.



After Song Qingshi confirmed that he had no problem handling the housework, he focused on collecting herbs, refining pills and cultivating. He didn’t use to care about money and his quality of life, but now that he wanted to provide for a great beauty like Wuhuan, just getting by was no longer acceptable.



He used the materials he had on hand to refine a lot of commonly used medicines to sell. Unfortunately, even when he could talk, he was no match for unscrupulous merchants. Now that he couldn’t talk, he was even more helpless. Fortunately, he wasn’t the type to bother about it, and because the efficacy of his pills was high and coupled with the high quality of the pills, he luckily received a few orders, and he still managed to save up a few spirit stones.



The materials for the Xuantian Taiming Pill weren’t things you’d find in a small place. The focus of Tian Xiang Pavilion’s search was Qu Yurong, but they also searched for Wuhuan for more than half a month. Although they hadn’t found him and gave up their search, presuming Wuhuan to be dead or abducted, it was better that they take this opportunity to flee, to avoid any unforeseen incidents such as Tian Xiang Pavilion finding Wuhuan’s trail. 



Song Qingshi used gestures and words to communicate simply with Wuhuan.



Wuhuan’s face has been restored. Although his body had yet to mature, it could already be seen that he would be a beauty to overthrow a city, a captivating treasure. Song Qingshi pondered this for a long time. He made a special plaster and applied it on Wuhuan’s body. His face, hands and feet were made yellow and black, leaving less than half in its original color. This plaster could only be washed off with a special lotion. Although long-term use would slightly damage the skin, making it rough, Wuhuan didn’t care. Also, after stopping its use, the skin would return to normal after a period of time.



Song Qingshi still felt that it wasn’t ugly enough, so he made some burn scars and put them on his cheek to cover the teardrop mole. He then dressed him in overstuffed clothes to cover his beautiful figure. Together with old heavy curtains, he looked like a simple country bumpkin. As for himself, his body still hasn’t been raised well, and his appearance was ugly enough that he didn’t need to be disguised.



He sold everything that could be sold, bought a small mustard seed bag and put the pill furnace in it. He then asked a blacksmith to custom make a tiger brace for a traveling doctor, intending to earn living expenses by curing diseases. The blacksmith looked at the drawings for a long time, then took out a tiger brace that someone had ordered before but didn’t come to get, selling it to him for cheap. 



When Song Qingshi got the tiger brace, he was stunned.



Its shape and size were similar to those of Sword Master Mo Yuan’s tiger brace. But this one was brand new and shiny. This one also didn’t have the complicated formations and scripts.



Probably… this was the standard tiger brace of the time?



Song Qingshi rang the bell, made sure the sound was loud, and didn’t think much about it. 



He simply packed his things and while shaking the tiger brace in one hand, and leading Wuhuan by the other, embarked on their journey. They walked through old towns in the countryside, through main streets and by-lanes. Most of the patients they came across were poor people. He was responsible for treating the patients, and Wuhuan was responsible for communicating with them. Sometimes, when they ran across literate scholars, they wouldn’t charge a fee and instead, they would ask them to teach Wuhuan to recognize a few dozen words. If they encountered a carpenter, they also wouldn’t charge a fee, and would instead ask him to carve a couple of books.



They met many interesting people and many interesting things. They also encountered many troubles and dangerous things.



Spring went and winter came, as summer goes, the winter comes.



Wuhuan finally succeeded in reaching Foundation Building.



When he suddenly looked back, time had flown and ten years had passed… 



The boy had grown tall but his gentleness remained and so did the fragrance of medicine.



They rang the hand bell as they tread across ten thousand crags and torrents. They crashed their way through the dragon’s pool and the tiger’s den. They saw the prosperity of the world.



However, no matter where they traveled to, no matter where they went, no matter what they faced…



The hand that tightly held on to his, leading him, never let go.