Chapter 2: Almost Got My Pants Pulled Down!
The morning light struggled through the narrow crack of the opening, dispelling a bit of the darkness.
His eyelids felt heavy as iron.
Lin Qiyè's lashes fluttered as a sliver of light pierced through his closed eyes.
His consciousness laboriously surfaced from the abyss of chaos.
He propped himself up.
Every bone and joint shed a thousand-pound burden, an unprecedented lightness flooding his entire body.
Within him, that pure yang energy that had once scorched his flesh and bones now flowed like a gentle stream, quietly traversing every inch of his meridians—more condensed and pure than ever before.
He surveyed the unfamiliar cave.
The air held the lingering bitterness of medicinal herbs and a faint, peculiar sweet-salty tang.
Several shreds of plain fabric lay scattered in the corner, resembling fragments of a woman's dress.
His gaze froze instantly.
Beside the stone wall, a pool of dark red blood had congealed and turned black.
Blood!
His mind exploded.
Chaotic fragments of memory flashed back: a blurred, gentle figure; a pair of cold yet resolute hands; and that struggle woven from extreme agony and searing heat...
Someone had saved him.
Judging by the utter devastation and the terrifying bloodstain, the one who saved him had paid an unimaginable price.
He knew his state back then—his uncontrolled pure yang energy could incinerate any living thing that came near.
His savior... she...
His heart felt gripped by an icy hand, making breathing itself difficult.
He staggered through the cave, searching. His fingertips brushed something cold and hard.
He picked it up.
It was a small jade bottle.
Three ancient seal characters were carved upon it—Medicine King Sect.
Medicine pills.
He pulled the stopper free. A crisp medicinal fragrance filled his nostrils, instantly reviving his senses.
Inside the bottle, several pills with a lustrous sheen lay quietly.
His benefactor had not only risked her life but also left behind healing elixirs.
A disciple of the Medicine King Sect?
But where was she?
Anxiety gripped Lin Qiyè as his gaze scanned every inch of the cave floor.
Beneath an inconspicuous rock lay a corner of fabric.
He hastily moved the stone aside and picked up the crumpled cloth.
Words were written on it—in blood.
Most of the characters were worn and blurred, only the word "pills" barely legible.
This fragmentary message struck his heart like a heavy hammer.
His benefactor was gravely wounded, leaving the pills in haste before departing.
Could she... hold on?
Overwhelming guilt and sorrow flooded his chest, nearly suffocating him.
"Benefactor..."
He murmured hoarsely.
A woman he'd never met before had sacrificed so much to save him—this "disaster magnet."
Trembling, he gathered the torn fabric scraps with utmost care, tucking them close to his chest.
His gaze fell once more upon the pool of blood. Lin Qiyè's fists clenched violently, knuckles turning white from the force.
"If you still walk this earth, I, Lin Qiyè, swear to repay this debt with my life!"
"If... if you have met with misfortune... this debt, I, Lin Qiyè, shall bear it in my bones, never to be forgotten!"
He forced himself to calm down, sitting cross-legged to attempt guiding the spiritual energy within his body.
The thought barely formed when he sensed a drastic change in his physique.
His meridians had expanded severalfold, becoming incredibly resilient, while the speed of spiritual energy circulation surged dramatically.
The refined pure yang energy harmonized with him as never before.
Who could possess such divine power?
This debt of gratitude weighed too heavily.
After a long, silent moment in the cave, Lin Qiyè slowly rose.
Facing the cave's depths, he knelt solemnly.
Three bows, nine prostrations.
"Benefactor, please accept this humble bow from Lin Qiyè."
"Please... take care of yourself."
He must return to the Fairy Pavilion immediately.
The secret of this body must not be discovered by anyone else.
Stepping out of the cave, the morning breeze carried a chill.
Lin Qiyè determined his direction, unleashed his footwork, and sped toward the Fairy Pavilion.
At this moment, he resembled a child clutching a priceless treasure, navigating a jungle teeming with peril.
Desolate mountain path.
Several figures, their intentions clearly malevolent, burst from the woods, blocking his way.
"Kid, you look clean-cut—must have something valuable on you!"
The burly leader, his face a mass of fleshy bulges, narrowed his triangular eyes with greed.
A few low-tier wandering cultivators, likely at the third or fourth stage of Forging Muscle.
Lin Qiyè's brow furrowed. The last thing he wanted now was trouble.
"Fellow cultivators, I'm merely passing through. I carry nothing of value." His voice remained calm.
"Heh! We'll find out if you do or not!" A tall, gaunt man with a hooked nose and monkey-like features cackled, reaching for Lin Qiyè's storage pouch.
Lin Qiyè shifted his feet slightly, evading the grab.
"Gentlemen, why the hostility?"
"Cut the crap! You're unlucky to cross paths with us!" The burly man lost patience, a cold gleam flashing in his hand as a rusty dagger appeared. "Hand over your stuff and get lost!"
The others closed in simultaneously, sealing off every escape route.
A surge of unnamed fury ignited within Lin Qiyè.
He'd just returned from the brink of death, weighed down by anxiety over his benefactor's fate—and now he had to deal with these fools.
"Since you insist, don't blame me for being impolite!" His voice turned icy.
"Oh ho, you dare fight?"
The burly man sneered, swinging his dagger viciously toward Lin Qiyè's face.
The blade flashed toward him.
Lin Qiyè's pupils contracted sharply as he instinctively raised his arm to block.
In that instant, triggered by an intense sense of danger, the pure yang energy within him erupted violently!
A colossal, utterly uncontrolled force surged from his palms!
Boom—
A dull thud echoed.
The leader, blade and all, flew backward like a shrimp, struck squarely by a battering ram. A piercing scream was choked back by the blood spurting from his mouth.
He slammed into the rock wall several zhang away, slid down, and lay still, utterly silent.
The remaining lone cultivators were so terrified by this sudden turn of events that they froze in place, their souls nearly leaving their bodies.
Lin Qiyè himself was also completely stunned.
He stared blankly at his own palm, feeling the power that had just erupted and then quickly subsided.
What... what just happened?
The other cultivators finally snapped out of their shock. Panic-stricken, they scrambled and crawled into the woods, vanishing in an instant.
Lin Qiyè didn't pursue them.
He remained standing where he was, staring down at his palm.
There was no satisfaction from defeating the villain.
Only cold dread and confusion.
That strike had been a purely instinctive reaction of his body.
This power did not belong to him.
It merely resided within his body.
A powder keg ready to blow him and everything around him to smithereens at any moment.
What if... this power went out of control at the sect and harmed his master...
The consequences would be unimaginable.
He must return to Fairy Pavilion immediately!
Only within that familiar environment might he find a shred of security.
He would bury this increasingly dangerous secret deep within his heart, continuing to play the role of the obscure, unassuming disciple who kept to himself.
Lin Qitian forced down his churning emotions, reoriented himself, and sprinted forward.
He had to get back.
He had to figure out what kind of monster lurked within his body before it harmed anyone he cared about.
He looked down at his palm.
There, a faint, imperceptible golden light flickered and vanished.