Please, Don’t Die - Chapter 13

Disgusting. Absolutely revolting.

This was He Qingsheng’s most immediate reaction.

Within the malevolent entity she had devoured, she saw swarms of insects, like grotesque hybrids of magnified scabies mites and cockroaches, writhing and twisting in a frenzied mass.

He Qingsheng felt her psyche take a severe blow. Ever since she began cultivating immortality, it had been a long time since she’d been this disgusted by bugs.

Especially since these insects were abominations conjured by the wood demon, the impact was even more intense.

He Qingsheng deeply regretted her moment of impulsive heroism.

The baleful aura, however, seemed to relish feasting on the bugs.

What a headache.

She forced herself into a brief slumber. By the time she awoke, the nausea had finally subsided.

The brick-walled room was dimly lit.

Firewood crackled in the stove, and steam rose from the boiling pot above. If He Qingsheng still had a sense of smell, she would have been overwhelmed by the thick, bitter aroma of medicinal herbs filling the room.

From next door came the faint sound of a woman weeping.

“What’s going on?” He Qingsheng surveyed her surroundings. The place was simple and crude, but at least it was clean and tidy.

Ying Qujie, timing the boil of the water, pulled the vigorously burning firewood to either side of the stove. He stood up slightly, leaned over, and lifted the wooden lid.

Amid the billowing steam, his voice seemed somewhat muffled.

“Yuan Baoyin is sick. We’re at her home.”

He Qingsheng thought of that clever, mischievous little girl, someone suspended between life and death due to karmic ties. She had assumed that the wood demon’s nurturing of the drought fiend was the cause of Jimo’s impending doom, and that Yuan Baoyin, being young and fitting the condition of being neither fully alive nor dead, was the only one who could see her.

But judging by Ying Qujie’s words, things weren’t that simple.

Aside from the thirst and hunger induced by fire toxin, Yuan Baoyin was suffering from another illness.

“Can you treat her?” He Qingsheng asked.

Ying Qujie didn’t answer immediately. Only after ladling out the decoction did he affirm, “Yes.”

He Qingsheng considered how Ying Qujie was still a novice, yet he had repeatedly encountered bizarre and severe illnesses, and had even failed to save one person. It was only natural for him to feel disheartened. Rarely moved to kindness, she offered sincere comfort: “Physician Ying, don’t doubt yourself. Have faith in your skills. Even though I died, others can still live.”

Ying Qujie was puzzled. He had been momentarily distracted by the sudden appearance of the female ghost, observing her odd behavior. Had he said anything that warranted ghostly consolation?

Despite his confusion, he thanked her earnestly.

When he turned his head again, He Qingsheng had already retreated into the little wooden puppet, perched on his head and gesturing for him to go next door.

The little girl on the sickbed looked listless, her complexion ashen. When she saw He Qingsheng and Ying Qujie, she struggled to muster a weak smile.

“Physician Brother,” Yuan Baoyin’s gaze shifted to the wooden puppet. He Qingsheng pressed a finger to her lips in a shushing motion, and the girl immediately blinked in understanding, refraining from greeting her.

Ying Qujie handed the medicine to Madam Wang, then sat on a nearby wooden stool and took the puppet down from his head.

Madam Wang fought to control her emotions, though the corners of her mouth still trembled slightly downward. Choking back sobs, she cradled Yuan Baoyin and spoon-fed her the bitter medicine.

Ying Qujie reached into his robe for some candied fruit, only to find that the puppet had already snatched it.

He smiled faintly. Once Yuan Baoyin had finished the medicine, he handed the puppet to her.

With the dried fruit He Qingsheng fed her, Yuan Baoyin sweetly crinkled the corners of her eyes in gratitude.

He Qingsheng wanted to smile back but suddenly realized the wood demon hadn’t carved a mouth for the little wooden puppet, not even a single line. Her smile was met with emptiness. She could only coax gently, “Go to sleep.”

After Yuan Baoyin fell asleep, Ying Qujie took He Qingsheng back to the inn.

He Qingsheng rummaged through his belongings for a long time before pulling out the sickle he used for herb gathering. With a serious expression, he walked up to Ying Qujie, the little wooden puppet’s footsteps clattering in a way that was oddly endearing.

Though the sight of it holding a knife brought back some unpleasant memories.

“Divine Physician Ying.” He Qingsheng aggressively thrust the sickle in front of Ying Qujie’s face.

“What’s the matter?” Ying Qujie took a subtle step back, gripped the blade, and pulled it out of the puppet’s hands, silently thinking to himself that children shouldn’t be allowed to play with knives.

He·500-year-old child·Qingsheng jumped onto the table. “Could you carve some facial features for me?”

The little wooden puppet stood straight on the table as He Qingsheng’s spirit floated out. “No need for too much detail, just make it five or six parts similar to me.”

What does “just make it” even mean? Ying Qujie grumbled inwardly.

“Miss He, I don’t know woodcarving.” He probably couldn’t achieve even five or six parts resemblance.

He Qingsheng nodded in understanding, after all, not everyone possessed the craftsmanship of the wood demon Ming Shu. She was very tolerant and exceedingly kind as she said, “You can learn if you don’t know how.”

Or I’ll kill you if you don’t.

Ying Qujie once again intuitively grasped the implied threat. Glancing at the sickle in his hand, he decided to give it a try despite his reservations.

Unlike specialized woodcarving knives, the sickle was unwieldy. Ying Qujie’s first stroke went too deep, leaving a slash on the puppet’s face that stretched nearly to the back of its ear, a grotesquely wide grin.

“Are you trying to scare yourself?” He Qingsheng remarked sarcastically.

Ying Qujie tossed the sickle aside and turned to lie down on the bed. “I’m done. You’ll have to make do with this.”

“No way. We can’t just give up when faced with difficulties, Physician Ying.” He Qingsheng floated over and used Ying Qujie’s dark, silky hair to tickle his nose.

Ying Qujie flicked his hair back and pulled the covers over his head. No matter what He Qingsheng said, whether motivational speeches, harsh words, or outright threats, he ignored her completely.

Soon, even breathing could be heard from beneath the blanket.

He Qingsheng: “…”

So, she’d been singing a lullaby all this time.

…

Ying Qujie copied the prescription for Madam Wang and waited two more days until Yuan Baoyin’s condition stabilized before preparing to leave Jimo.

Upon hearing that Ying Qujie was heading to the capital, Shangguan Ding’an invited him to stay a few more days. He wanted to resolve the live sacrifice incident and arrange Jimo’s water conservancy projects before returning together.

Ying Qujie declined the offer. First, his stay in Jimo had already far exceeded his initial expectations. Second, he was accustomed to traveling alone and preferred minimal interaction with others.

What about He Qingsheng?

He Qingsheng wasn’t human.

They set off on a small path on a bright, sunny morning.

Having become a ghost, He Qingsheng wasn’t fond of direct sunlight, so she perched atop Ying Qujie’s head using the little wooden puppet.

Under He Qingsheng’s domineering pressure, Ying Qujie had tied up all his hair into a high ponytail, which served as the perfect curved pillow for the puppet. The two shorter strands at his temples were clutched by He Qingsheng on either side, making the sight slightly comical.

He Qingsheng: “Giddy-up-”

Ying Qujie: “If you say that again, you’re getting off my head!”

…

Three days later.

Gazing at the familiar white walls and black-tiled roofs of Jimo Town, He Qingsheng finally understood why Ying Qujie had been in such a hurry to set off, even though there were still over two months left before the scheduled date of the coming-of-age ceremony.

The man was directionally challenged.

Being directionally challenged was one thing, but he also had a habit of picking herbs here and there whenever he saw them.

East one moment, west the next, alternating between north and south, finding his way was entirely a matter of luck.

Some residents of Jimo seemed to have spotted Ying Qujie and greeted him from afar.

He Qingsheng suppressed a laugh. “Shall we rest in the town?”

“No,” Ying Qujie replied before fleeing in a panic.

Fortunately, the path they took this time was completely unfamiliar.

Night fell, and the stars shone brilliantly, the Milky Way cascading down to the earth.

He Qingsheng looked up. “Can you read the constellations?”

“Yes, why?”

He Qingsheng said gloomily, “Then take a look, are we heading south or north?”

Ying Qujie: “…”

The capital was to the north, and he was currently heading south.

Ying Qujie silently plucked a medicinal herb, tucked it into his bag, and sighed quietly as he gazed at the starry sky.

After circling the mountains four times, evading wild boars three times, and defeating two wolves, Ying Qujie finally conceded, letting He Qingsheng lead the way.

Though he had a gut feeling that He Qingsheng wouldn’t guide him down any good path, surely it couldn’t be worse than this.

Well, he was wrong.

Following the route He Qingsheng pointed out, Ying Qujie smoothly tumbled into a hunter’s animal trap.

Brushing off the dust from his fall, Ying Qujie reflected deeply, he had been far too trusting of a ghost.

From his vantage point at the bottom of the pit, the little wooden puppet peering down at him looked every bit like a bloodthirsty demonic entity.

Ying Qujie fell silent. After all, she was a demonic entity.

He Qingsheng observed the disheveled young physician in the pit, his handsome face smudged with dirt, exuding a kind of ruffled beauty that came from being bullied. A playful urge seized her, and she let out a sinister chuckle. “Heh heh heh!”

Ying Qujie snapped irritably, “Stop laughing. What do you want?”

“To harm you, obviously. Haven’t you noticed? My disguise was flawless. Next time, remember not to trust others so easily, got it?” He Qingsheng feigned earnestness before gasping theatrically. “Oh, wait… out here in the wilderness, there probably won’t be a next time for you.”

Without waiting for a response, the little puppet turned and walked away from the pit.

Ying Qujie’s face darkened as he pushed aside the thick layer of fallen leaves that had cushioned his fall, searching for any branches that might help him climb out.

After carefully scouring the pit, he found it suspiciously clean and smooth, as if He Qingsheng had dug it overnight while he slept. There was absolutely nothing usable.

Above ground, He Qingsheng concealed her presence, hiding in a thicket of leaves to observe the deep pit.

For days, she had sensed something following Ying Qujie.

She hated this feeling of being watched.

He Qingsheng reasoned that if a ghost like her was drawn to Ying Qujie, then other malevolent spirits would find him equally irresistible.

Coincidentally, there happened to be an abandoned animal trap nearby.

She wanted to see, if she couldn’t harm Ying Qujie, perhaps another ghost could.

He Qingsheng hadn’t hidden for long when the lurking presence, sensing no threat, eagerly revealed itself, a hideous Changlu ghost.

Mortal legends warned that when traveling through the mountains, if one heard their name called from behind, they must never turn around. To look back would extinguish one of the three soul-lamps, and the traveler would lose their way. Unless found by a close relative within three days, they would perish in the wilderness, doomed to replace the last victim as the next Changlu ghost.

It’s the same principle as the common saying about water ghosts seeking substitutes.

“Ying Qujie.”

The Changlu ghost deliberately circled behind Ying Qujie to call his name.

He Qingsheng realized she hadn’t actually called out Ying Qujie’s name before, so how did this ghost know the name of a stranger? She couldn’t figure it out no matter how hard she tried.

While He Qingsheng was wildly speculating about unscientific reasons, Ying Qujie unexpectedly came face to face with the Changlu ghost’s hideous visage without any preparation.

Truly ugly in life, terrifying in death. Ying Qujie wasn’t in the best mood and wasn’t inclined to go easy on ghosts either.

“Ying Qujie.” Seeing that he showed no signs of confusion, the Changlu ghost called his name again.

Ying Qujie was speechless. Forget about whether he would follow it, he couldn’t even get out of this pit himself right now. How was he supposed to go anywhere?

Ying Qujie mentally reviewed all the ghosts he’d encountered before. None had ever been as clear-minded and human-like as He Qingsheng; most were dull-witted and couldn’t understand human speech.

However, when He Qingsheng had been by his side, these minor ghosts never dared to scurry around in front of him.

Now a Changlu ghost had appeared, had He Qingsheng really just left like that?

The Changlu ghost kept calling his name like it was summoning a spirit, and Ying Qujie was growing impatient.

He Qingsheng, lying nearby, watched as the Changlu ghost chanted for a long while before finally seeming to remember something and preparing to move in.

But before she could get close to Ying Qujie.

Two figures, one black and one white, materialized out of thin air, seizing the Changlu ghost from both sides.

Black and White Impermanence?