Forced to Act out a Strange Script with a Rival - Chapter 128

After the twists and turns at Linglong Pavilion, Si Xiaoxiao’s internal strength had recovered to about 70%. This implied that her favorability rating had already reached the level of “more than just friends.”

However, this did not mean Si Xiaoxiao possessed the strength to crush everyone.

“Li Ting No. 1” could only provide Si Xiaoxiao with information and help her analyze situations; the one making the critical choices at the final moment was Si Xiaoxiao herself.

But Si Xiaoxiao knew she was no match for Wudang’s strongest Grand Elder—and neither was Li Ting.

As Su Linglong had said, this was essentially a suicide mission.

By the time they reached the bustling small town at the foot of Wudang Mountain, it was already dusk.

The setting sun was like blood, staining the clouds at the horizon a tragic, vivid crimson, and casting an ominous golden glow over the towering, continuous mountain range in the distance. A sense of oppression, like an impending mountain storm, weighed heavily on every corner.

The two did not wander through the town like ordinary travelers. Instead, they silently found an inconspicuous inn, requested two adjacent upper-floor rooms, and retired early to their respective quarters.

Li Ting found it difficult to sleep. Having followed Si Xiaoxiao along this journey, she realized that Si Xiaoxiao’s cultivation seemed to have regressed significantly due to her “deviation” (qigong deviation). Facing the collective strength of Wudang, their chances were likely one in ten.

This realization was like an invisible thread wrapping around Li Ting’s heart, tightening further and further, bringing a strange, almost suffocating dull ache.

Just as her thoughts were churning and becoming uncontrollable, a gentle knock at the door broke the silence of the room.

“Little Li, are you asleep?”

It was Si Xiaoxiao’s voice.

Li Ting opened the door for her, only to see Si Xiaoxiao carrying a jar of wine, her expression wearing its usual, casual smile. “Want a drink?”

“Didn’t you tell me not to drink?” Li Ting asked, puzzled, eyeing her suspiciously.

Si Xiaoxiao didn’t answer. She simply slipped nimbly through the gap between Li Ting and the doorframe, making herself at home as she walked to the table. She produced two clean teacups and impatiently filled one to the brim, handing it to Li Ting.

The liquid was clear in color and gave off a faint fruity aroma; it didn’t look like strong liquor at all.

“It’s just a fruit drink. I brewed it using wild berries from the foot of the mountain. It’s very tasty!” She blinked, her tone carrying a hint of coaxing.

Moonlight streamed in through the window, dancing across her smiling eyes.

After spending these days together, Li Ting had lowered her guard against Si Xiaoxiao. Looking into those eyes that seemed exceptionally bright under the moonlight, she instinctively took the “fruit drink.”

At the moment of exchange, her fingertips inadvertently brushed against Si Xiaoxiao’s slightly cool fingers, sending a faint shiver through her.

Without a second thought, Li Ting tilted her head back and drained the contents of the cup in one gulp.

Following the sweet taste, a trace of extremely faint, skillfully masked bitterness slid down her throat.

However, it was that single trace of abnormality that caused alarm bells to ring in her mind!

But it was too late.

In the very next instant, a wave of violent dizziness, like a surging tide, swept over her. Her vision blurred and distorted rapidly.

In her daze, Li Ting saw Si Xiaoxiao rush toward her and gently catch her in an embrace.

Li Ting was a physician herself and occasionally tested medicines on her own body; she had developed a resistance to certain sedatives. Consequently, her period of unconsciousness was not long.

When she struggled awake from the chaos, the first thing she felt wasn’t the expected restraint or danger. Instead, it was a warm, powerful, yet exceptionally gentle and pure internal energy. It was like a submissive river, flowing continuously into her from the acupoints near her heart, traveling along her meridians and slowly filling her entire body.

She realized she was sitting cross-legged on the bed, with a warm body pressed firmly against her back. It was Si Xiaoxiao!

Very quickly, Li Ting realized what was happening—Si Xiaoxiao was transferring her internal power to her!

Why?!

Why was she doing this?!

A massive wave of dread instantly enveloped Li Ting.

“Why are you transferring your power to me?” Li Ting’s voice trembled as she spoke, trying to turn her head to see Si Xiaoxiao’s face.

However, Si Xiaoxiao spoke up: “Steady your mind! If the transfer is interrupted now, both of us will die.”

Her voice now carried an unquestionable sternness, and even… a slight tremor of suppressed pain.

“I… I…” Li Ting knew Si Xiaoxiao was right. She could only bite her lower lip hard until the faint taste of blood spread in her mouth, forcing herself to focus. she guided that warm torrent—which carried Si Xiaoxiao’s unique aura—into her own dantian.

It was a slow and agonizing process. She could clearly feel Si Xiaoxiao’s body trembling against her back; her body temperature seemed to be gradually fading, and the palms pressed against her acupoints slowly turned ice-cold.

Sweat, perhaps cold sweat, soaked through their thin clothes, sticking them together clammily until it was impossible to tell whose was whose.

Time drifted away amidst the silence and the rushing of internal energy. Outside, the night faded from deep dark to a pale grey, and a sliver of light appeared on the horizon.

When the last surge of pure energy was successfully channeled into Li Ting’s meridians, Si Xiaoxiao seemed to lose all her support in an instant. Her entire body went limp like a puppet with its strings cut, and she collapsed to the side.

“Xiaoxiao!” Li Ting cried out, turning quickly to catch her.

What she touched was a shocking coldness and weakness.

Si Xiaoxiao’s face was as pale as fresh snow, devoid of any color. Even her lips had lost their usual vibrant pink, becoming grey and parched.

Her eyelashes drooped, and her breathing was so faint it was barely perceptible. She looked like a flower that had suddenly withered, losing all its vitality and life, leaving only a fragile state of decay.

Li Ting’s hands, gripping her arms, began to shake violently and uncontrollably. Tears burst from her eyes without warning, heavy drops splashing onto Si Xiaoxiao’s cold hand.

How could she be crying… clearly… clearly…

“Why… why…” She could only repeat the pale, powerless question, her heart aching as if pierced by a blade.

Si Xiaoxiao seemed to have exhausted all her strength; even lifting her eyes to look at her appeared to be an immense struggle.

Yet, in the midst of such profound weakness, she actually managed to pull out a smile. It was a pale expression, yet it still carried her signature, almost mischievous radiance. She even turned the tables, asking in a soft, breathy whisper: “How many days… are left in our one-month pact?”

Li Ting’s heart wrenched violently, as if pierced by the sharpest icicle. She choked back a sob, barely able to form words: “There are… less than half a month left.”

What she didn’t say, however, was that she had already developed the antidote. In the depths of her heart, she harbored a secret hope: that if they didn’t die during this ascent of Wudang, she would be able to present the cure to Xiaoxiao.

But the image of her master, Fu Lin, in his dying moments continued to torment her, leaving her physically and mentally exhausted.

Between vengeance and love… she still found it impossible to choose.

But Si Xiaoxiao was so cruel and overbearing that she wouldn’t even let Li Ting make the choice; she had already made it herself.

A power transfer of this nature truly and literally drained one’s very life force.

Si Xiaoxiao, however, laughed with utter freedom and brightness: “Exactly. Why would a dying person like me need such high internal cultivation anyway?”

“But…” Li Ting’s heart was a chaotic mess. The Xiaoxiao before her had lost her vibrancy, falling into a state of absolute decay.

Si Xiaoxiao had used a secret technique to perform a forced transfer. While it had no negative impact on Li Ting—the recipient—Si Xiaoxiao herself had to endure immense agony. Her body would suffer a severe backlash, and her lifespan would be drastically shortened.

Even parents with the deepest love for their children would rarely go as far as Si Xiaoxiao did: exhausting every ounce of effort and enduring great pain just to deliver the purest internal energy to another.

Humans are inherently selfish… yet in Si Xiaoxiao’s eyes, Li Ting saw nothing but herself.

How could such a person exist? Li Ting believed she would never encounter another Si Xiaoxiao again. She was one of a kind—a magnificent, cruel firework that had illuminated the grey darkness of Li Ting’s life.

Si Xiaoxiao thought for a moment and gave a particularly brilliant smile, still insisting on being stubborn: “Think of it as ‘recycling waste.’ I never liked having my martial arts be too high anyway.”

You idiot, who on earth doesn’t like having high martial arts? Li Ting remembered when they had encountered local thugs before; Si Xiaoxiao had excitedly brandished her sword, using her internal strength to force them back, looking as thrilled as a pure-hearted child.

A person who loved acting cool and fighting for justice had now lost the very means to do so.

“I clearly wanted to kill you… I was supposed to kill you…” Li Ting’s voice was broken. Her heart was a churning cauldron of conflicting emotions—love, hate, gratitude, and old grudges intertwined into a suffocating web that trapped her until she could barely breathe.

Though weak, Si Xiaoxiao had already begun to fantasize lightheartedly: “When we get to Wudang, we’ll use our lightness skills to fly onto the rooftops for a cool entrance. Cough, cough… and then, you’ll kill several people with a single strike while I pretend to be the grandmaster. Think about it—if my ‘enforcer’ is this powerful, how could I possibly be weak? That’s what you call style!”

“…” Li Ting looked at the frail Si Xiaoxiao, her heart sinking deeper into sorrow.

Si Xiaoxiao pouted and grumbled, feigning anger: “What’s with that face! I’m not dead yet! Why are you crying at my funeral already?”

She tried to force a show of vitality, but as she continued to ramble, her voice grew lower and lower until she finally said: “Little Li… I’m so tired. I’ll just… take a little rest. You remember… remember to wake me up…”

Before she could finish her sentence, her head tilted and came to rest completely on Li Ting’s shoulder, falling into a deep, almost comatose sleep. Her breathing was faint and shallow, as if it might stop at any moment.

Li Ting held the cold, light body in her arms tightly, as if holding the world’s most fragile treasure. Outside, the sky grew brighter. The morning light pierced through the window paper, reflecting off Si Xiaoxiao’s paper-pale face, lending her a breathtaking, fragile beauty.

Li Ting lowered her head, gently pressing her cheek against Si Xiaoxiao’s icy forehead as tears wound silently down her face.

“Okay…” she whispered in response, her voice hoarse but firm. “When the sun comes up, I’ll wake you…”

But her tears could no longer be contained, falling continuously like broken strings of pearls.

Li Ting finally broke down, sobbing uncontrollably.

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