After A Max-Level Celestial Master Transmigrated Into The Body Of A Sickly Beauty's Substitute - Chapter 1

“Didn’t you say you were willing to do anything for me?”

“Then go die in my place.”

Lan Ting regained consciousness to the sound of these words. The speaker’s tone was contemptuous, arrogant, and irritating, enough to stir genuine anger. His first instinct was to retort with a curse, but a bone-chilling pain cut his thoughts short. The insult intended for his throat was crushed into a painful gasp, swallowed back behind clenched teeth.

Forcing himself to endure for only a single moment, Lan Ting summoned his formidable willpower to open his eyes despite the agony. After taking in his surroundings, his gaze settled on the man before him. Dressed in a sharp suit, the man sat casually opposite him with a look of repulsive pity. Lan Ting narrowed his eyes, his tongue pushing irritably against the inside of his cheek.

The man appeared surprised by his reaction. “You actually managed to wake up?”

He hurriedly retrieved several yellow talismans from his person. The cinnabar inscriptions on them were twisted and complex, and he scattered them around the ground in a complete circle. As the talismans were placed, the formation beneath Lan Ting began to glow with increasing intensity, its speed of operation doubling. A sensation like thousands of ants gnawing at his bones crept through every limb, and Lan Ting’s complexion turned deathly pale. Seeing him lying helplessly in the center of the formation, the man finally let out a breath of relief.

From the moment the man produced the talismans, Lan Ting understood his situation. The cinnabar patterns on the yellow paper were unmistakably life-substitution charms. The formation currently restraining him was stripping away his vitality, funneling it directly to the man holding the talismans.

Lan Ting, once a figure who dominated the cultivation world, had died only to wake up in the body of a fool. Memories flooded into his mind along with the intense pain. The original owner shared his name and was a wealthy young master born with a silver spoon, though he seemed mentally impaired. Ignoring the warnings of his parents and brothers, and even severing ties with friends, he insisted on obsessing over a man named Gu Guixi. His pursuit of Gu Guixi had been the source of countless jokes, turning himself and his family into the laughingstock of Jinchuan. Even though Gu Guixi never gave him a second glance, the original owner remained enchanted and unchanging in his devotion.

Just one day prior, Gu Guixi had suddenly approached him, claiming to be in trouble and needing a favor. The foolish youth had complied, hiding the truth from his family and friends, and stepped voluntarily into the life-substitution formation. Because defying the natural order is inherently treacherous, such methods often result in severe backlash. As bad luck would have it, the original owner was born frail, his soul too weak to withstand the activation of the formation, leading to his demise. When the body grew warm again, it was Lan Ting’s soul that inhabited the shell.

After absorbing these memories, Lan Ting endured the draining of his vitality with only one thought: Stupid. Absolutely stupid. Feeling that less than one-tenth of his cultivation remained, he clicked his tongue and closed his eyes. This damn formation had to be broken; he had no intention of dying, coming back, and dying all over again.

Outside the formation, Gu Guixi began to notice something strange. As far as he knew, the agony induced by a life-substitution formation should be enough to drive a normal person insane. Yet, looking at the youth in the center, he saw that while the boy’s face was pale, his expression was remarkably relaxed, as if the formation were having no effect at all. How is this possible?

“Lan Ting?” Gu Guixi probed tentatively.

The youth in the formation lifted his gaze, staring straight at him with ink-black pupils. His pupils were abnormally large, as if only the dark iris remained, with no white to be seen. He stared blankly, appearing inexplicably terrifying. Gu Guixi was jolted with fear, his focus shifting for a split second, but by the next, the youth’s eyes returned to normal. With clear, distinct whites and irises, his gaze appeared innocent and lucid, as if the horrific sight moments ago had been a hallucination.

Recovering his senses, Gu Guixi realized his back was drenched in cold sweat. His breath came in ragged gasps, his heart still fluttering from the fright. Yet, observing the steadily spinning formation, he ultimately reassured himself. He took out the remaining yellow talismans and pasted them along the edge of the formation. As he worked, he muttered, “This is all your own doing, so you cannot blame me.” Perhaps because Lan Ting had truly terrified him, Gu Guixi kept babbling while pointedly refusing to look at the youth. Consequently, he failed to notice the youth’s right hand move slightly.

The youth’s fingers were slender and frail, wrapped in skin that was deathly pale. A tiny cut opened on his fingertip, and a drop of scarlet blood seeped out, making his skin appear even whiter before it dripped down.

Plop.

The sound was minuscule, but Lan Ting heard it clearly. The moment he curled his lips, the blood drop obscured the center point where the formation converged. Red swallowed the golden light, and the entire array choked to a halt. The spiritual energy flowing through the air stopped instantly, as if paused by a command.

The moment he regained his freedom, Lan Ting looked at Gu Guixi. Even at his most obtuse, Gu Guixi realized something was wrong. “Why can you move?!” he exclaimed, reaching out to press the yellow talismans firmly against the ground.

Lan Ting watched his actions and smiled slightly. His eyes were clear and his face pitifully pale, but the smile on his lips was sudden and chilling. Before Gu Guixi could react, Lan Ting spoke, his tone like a gentle inquiry: “Are you finished?”

“If you are finished, then go die.”

The moment those words left his lips, the blood drop that had severed the formation was consumed. In the second before the formation could resume, Lan Ting parted his lips, expending the meager spiritual energy he had just accumulated.

“Wei Yue Yan, charge the formation.”

The voice was faint, like a whisper, but the spiritual energy in the room surged violently. High above in the southern sky, amidst a dim cluster of stars, a single star suddenly shone with long-lost brilliance. As the clouds parted, a figure stepped forth under the starlight, shifting from ethereal to solid. Clad in white and black robes with swallowtail boots, he said in silence, “Wei Yue Yan, hears the call.”

He spread his arms and descended from the clouds, transforming into a massive, grand bow entwined with black and white patterns. The bowstring was pulled taut, and the arrow, like a streak of light, pierced through the clouds and shot toward the human world.

The spiritual energy in the entire room was absorbed, and with the formation losing its power source, Lan Ting stood up leisurely. He dusted off his clothes, raised his hand casually, and snapped his fingers.

“Snap.”

The arrow descended, breaking the immense pressure with a single strike. It pierced deep into the center of the formation, ignoring Lan Ting’s body. A second later, the array covering the entire room began to crack from its core, crumbling into dust. When the dust settled, Lan Ting stood in the ruins, composed and serene. He watched for a moment, then walked over to touch the arrow, but it dissipated into light just as his fingertip came within half an inch. The clouds tightened, and Wei Yue Yan’s form faded, returning once more to the silent, dim star.

The backlash from overextending his power and forcibly breaking the formation was severe. Agony, enough to destroy any person’s sanity, collided within his bones, yet Lan Ting only coughed softly. He listened for movement behind him and turned around.

“You have a tough life.”

As the formation was dismantled, the mysterious threads of fate returned to their rightful place. Lan Ting walked a few steps, his frame swaying from weakness. He remained pale, his chest aching with every movement, forcing suppressed coughs from his lips. Yet, in his half-lowered eyes, his pupils remained ink-black, flashing with sharp brilliance. The earlier surge of power had been silent yet overwhelming, causing almost everything in the room to turn to dust. Gu Guixi possessed many powerful items; although Lan Ting’s power was limited and the damage caused by Wei Yue Yan was partially mitigated, Gu Guixi was somehow still alive, currently lying unconscious on the ground.

Following the trail of energy, Lan Ting walked over and crushed the jade Buddha pendant hanging from Gu Guixi’s neck under his foot. As the pendant lost its efficacy, it shattered into pieces. With the dissipation of spiritual energy, sinister yin energy began to manifest, red light creeping out from the fissures of the jade. Ignoring the weak yin energy, Lan Ting placed his hand on Gu Guixi’s neck, feeling the pulse of blood beneath the skin.

His thin, bony fingers tightened abruptly.

The air supply was cut off, and the bones in the neck were on the verge of shattering. Even in his unconscious state, Gu Guixi, enveloped by the threat of death, began to struggle convulsively.

“Ugh.”

The man beneath him struggled violently, his face flushing red and contorting in agony from the lack of oxygen, yet Lan Ting’s gaze remained indifferent. He stifled an inaudible yawn and closed his eyes slightly. The pain deep within his bones continued to clamor, and Lan Ting suddenly felt a sense of boredom. To die so easily, how uninteresting.

He released his grip. Having survived the brink of death, Gu Guixi lay on the ground, clutching his neck and gasping painfully for air. After a moment of thought, Lan Ting tapped the ground, drawing a thread of yin energy onto his fingertip, and gave a careless flick. A blurry, misshapen vengeful spirit was dragged forth. Without a moment’s hesitation, the yin energy drilled into Gu Guixi’s brow. He struggled like a dying fish for a long while before finally falling still, his breathing slow and steady. The yin energy clung to him like a maggot on a bone, wrapping tightly around his spirit.

“Cough, cough.”

It was the Winter Solstice in Jinchuan, and the temperature had plummeted. Lan Ting was dressed too thinly when he left the house. Now, the chill wind blowing through the broken window forced him to cover his mouth and cough repeatedly.

Lan Lin, Lan Ting’s older brother, had arrived in a frantic rush after hearing the news. When he kicked the heavy door open, he saw his younger brother in this miserable state. The once soft and refined youth stood there, as fragile as a piece of paper that might blow away in the wind, his hair, which reached down to his back, now white as snow.

The sound of Lan Lin kicking the door was loud, startling Lan Ting. The fragile youth turned his head slowly, his gaze unfocused. Between his pale fingers, a shocking crimson blood seeped out. He held that pose, a massive amount of blood spilling from the corners of his mouth.

Lan Ting frowned, looking down. As the smell of blood spread, he irritably wiped it away. Tsk, the backlash has worsened.

A persistent ringing filled his ears, mixed with the sound of stumbling footsteps. Someone wearing an expensive scent stood before him.

“Xiao Ting…”

Lan Lin reached out to wipe the blood from his brother’s mouth, but Lan Ting nimbly dodged. Thinking his brother was still angry with him, Lan Lin suppressed his panic, his hands trembling as he forced himself to stay calm.

“Big brother will take you to the hospital,” he said firmly.

The word “brother” caused Lan Ting’s impulse to dodge to pause. He tilted his head, his bloody lips curling up. “Okay.”

Lan Lin carefully carried his fragile brother on his back. His brother’s suddenly white hair fell forward, swaying before his eyes; the striking color brought Lan Lin another wave of heartache. As he passed the unconscious Gu Guixi, he could not help but say, “Close your eyes.”

Lan Ting yawned, acting as if he hadn’t heard, and remained motionless on his shoulder. Then, Lan Lin swung the stool he had used to break down the door, smashing it down.

Bang!

Lan Lin’s usually smiling face was overcast with dark clouds. He threw the stool aside expressionlessly and headed out to call the police.

The ringing in his ears grew louder. Lan Ting kept his eyes shut, his brows furrowed. Halfway there, Lan Lin noticed something was wrong in the car and tried to wake him. “Xiao Ting, wake up!”

Lan Ting was pained by the noise in his ears; his limbs felt as heavy as boulders. He was lost in a stupor, his mouth opening to tell Lan Lin to be quiet, but no sound escaped. Finally, the world went completely silent.

“Doctor! Doctor!”

Even with the constant advancement of technology, there are still quite a few people in China who practice the Dao. At the same time, in the most mysterious place in China, a child was quietly polishing a sword. Polishing one after another, he muttered to himself:

“Daddy, is it comfortable being polished like this?”

“Brother, where did you go fooling around yesterday? Why are you covered in rust?”

“Sister, you really don’t need to be polished anymore. You’re already clean and beautiful!”

The child kept babbling to a pile of ironware for a long time before finally setting down the rest of his relatives and friends. He turned and walked to the innermost part of the room. Lifting the curtain and opening the door, he uncovered a luxurious wooden box inlaid with various jewels and gold as if he were performing a pilgrimage.

A second later, a terrifying scream rang out into the sky:

“Holy crap! The Old Ancestor is gone!”