Please, Don’t Die - Chapter 14

Beyond the River of Forgetfulness lies the Netherworld, the realm that governs the cycle of life and death for both mortals and cultivators. When a person dies, they are ferried across the River of Forgetfulness by the Black and White Impermanence, entering the underworld.

But in this vast world, where countless mortals are born and die every day, the roles of Black and White Impermanence have evolved from two individuals into a formal position.

In the mortal realm, the so-called Black and White Impermanence are merely borrowing the well-known title, in reality, the duties are carried out by local spirit envoys. However, for the souls of cultivators, to prevent troublemaking, the task falls to higher-ranking, more powerful “Black and White Impermanence.”

When He Qingsheng first transmigrated here, she thought she had been in a car accident and considered it a blessing to live another lifetime. She didn’t take cultivation seriously, content to laze around until a natural death. Her sect, seeing her youth, doted on her excessively, and she remained stuck at the Foundation Establishment stage for a full year before barely forming her Golden Core, her mental state extremely unstable.

Her master, unable to bear it any longer, dragged her to witness a battle between mighty cultivators, where she saw the power to move mountains, fill seas, and shatter the heavens.

The defeated side was reduced to scattered flesh and blood, their soul nearly annihilated by the victor’s pursuit. Only the timely intervention of the ghostly envoys, who took the defeated away, prevented their complete destruction.

He Qingsheng was stunned by the brutality of their methods and asked a naive question: “Master, what kind of deep hatred could drive them to strike so mercilessly?”

Her master glared at her in frustration. “No hatred at all.”

No hatred, yet one side nearly had their soul obliterated.

She remembered her master’s profound expression as he faced her shock. “In battles between cultivators, life and death are common. The ghostly envoys won’t always arrive so promptly.”

“A small fry like you, with no backing, would’ve been scattered to the winds by now.”

The importance of connections and powerful backing never goes out of style.

Before He Qingsheng could finish her lament, she locked eyes with a pair of sinister, gleaming orbs. “Master, forget that for now, the person oozing black energy over there seems to have noticed us.”

“What?”

That day, He Qingsheng couldn’t recall how fast her master dragged her away, only that it felt like the wind had slapped her ten thousand and eight hundred times.

From then on, He Qingsheng reflected deeply, had an epiphany, and devoted herself wholeheartedly to cultivation, summoning the same discipline she once used to rise at five in the morning for college entrance exams.

Under her relentless influence (and internal competition), her sect maintained an excellent scholarly atmosphere for quite some time.

Later, when she herself reached the Mahayana stage, she finally understood just how dangerous those two battling cultivators had been.

And the only ones qualified to guide the souls of Mahayana-stage cultivators were the highest-ranking Black and White Impermanence, Xie Bi’an and Fan Wujiu.

Now, standing before Ying Qujie were none other than Xie Bi’an and Fan Wujiu.

Their attitude wasn’t exactly warm, but compared to how they treated others, they were downright gentle with Ying Qujie.

Just who was he?

…

“Gentlemen, a moment.”

“Young master, is there something else?”

The White Impermanence, wearing a tall hat inscribed with “Auspicious at First Sight,” turned around, lightly waving a feathered fan. A gentle breeze rose from Ying Qujie’s feet, lifting him out of the pit and setting him steadily on the ground.

Ying Qujie steadied himself and thanked them, then carefully phrased his question: “Might I ask if the two of you have encountered any other spirits in this area?”

The Black Impermanence’s left-hand chains clinked as he moved. A gust of wind howled, sweeping through the forests and ravines in an instant. “None. Does the young master have another concern?”

It seemed He Qingsheng had truly gone far away.

Ying Qujie shook his head.

The Black and White Impermanence had vanished with the ghostly guide in tow.

Birds chirped crisply in the forest, insects buzzed noisily, and the mountain spring water tinkled melodiously. Though not silent, the surroundings still felt eerily still.

Ying Qujie took out a medicinal sickle from his bundle, gripping it firmly as he prepared to continue his journey.

He hadn’t taken two steps before a wooden stump fell from the sky, landing squarely in his arms.

His forearm went numb from the impact.

Though the little puppet’s face still bore the scars of the lines he had scratched into it, Ying Qujie could somehow tell she was absolutely grinning at him now.

“Oh, what a coincidence, Physician Ying,” He Qingsheng said naturally, climbing up his lapel to perch on his shoulder as if she hadn’t just tricked him moments ago.

“Hah, do I need to say ‘what a coincidence’ too?”

He Qingsheng: “No need.”

Ying Qujie couldn’t be bothered to argue. He was preoccupied with the fact that even the Black and White Impermanence couldn’t detect He Qingsheng’s soul.

Just what was her deal?

Two people, each lost in their own thoughts, set off once more on the same path.

As they trekked through the forest, Ying Qujie’s bundle visibly swelled.

He Qingsheng sprawled among the assortment of medicinal herbs and flowers, attempting to weave a garland with her six wooden fingers.

Unfortunately, even when she had all ten fingers, she was never particularly dexterous, now, it was even harder. She picked out a single-layered flower with large red petals and a golden-yellow center, satisfied, then climbed onto Ying Qujie’s head and tucked it into the base of his hair crown.

By now, Ying Qujie had evolved from initial resistance and struggle to complete numbness. Whether it was red, yellow, or purple flowers, whether they were pinned to his head, behind his ear, or at his temple, he accepted them all with equanimity.

After all, there was no one around in the mountains, might as well let her have her fun.

He Qingsheng surveyed their surroundings, her eyes catching on a striking red silk ribbon tied around a tree ahead. Encouragingly, she said, “The flora here is completely different from the Jimo Mountains. Ten days, you’ve finally made it out! Xiao Ying, if you hurry home, you might even make it in time for some yuanxiao. The future’s looking bright!”

Ying Qujie untied the red silk ribbon he had fastened to that very tree just two hours prior, silently eliminating the third possible route in his mind.

Then, thinking of the newly harvested White Envy herb in his possession, a priceless treasure said to revive the dead and regenerate flesh, he quickly consoled himself and deftly shook out the nonsense that had entered one ear from the other.

“How about I lead the way instead? I swear, I really did want to help you catch that ghostly guide earlier.”

Ying Qujie: “Do you think you still have any credibility left with me?”

“I think I do,” He Qingsheng declared with absolute confidence.

Ying Qujie: “Not a shred.”

“Well, actually, there is one,” He Qingsheng said, tugging at a strand of his bangs to direct his gaze.

Ying Qujie caught sight of a middle-aged male ghost trembling behind a tree.

“Aaaah!! stay away from me!” the ghost shrieked in terror.

Ying Qujie flicked He Qingsheng. “Rein in your killing intent. He’s scared of you.”

He Qingsheng pouted. The ghost before her was so faint it was nearly transparent, on the verge of dissipating entirely.

Upon closer inspection, it was actually a living soul.

How boring. After days without encountering any ghosts or malevolent entities, He Qingsheng was starting to question whether she should keep following Ying Qujie.

Pushing aside the undergrowth, Ying Qujie found a middle-aged man curled up in a pile of fallen leaves.

His breathing was faint, but he was still alive.

He took out a bottle of medicinal pills from his robe and fed them into the man’s mouth. He Qingsheng had a vague memory of this bottle, she had been fed the same medicine before her death. According to Ying Qujie’s earlier explanation, this medicine was difficult to produce and incredibly valuable.

It seemed he had no reservations about using it.

He sure was quick to save a complete stranger.

The man’s spirit, hovering nearby, seemed to realize something and began thanking Ying Qujie profusely.

Before long, the man’s soul was guided back into his body.

He coughed violently a few times, his eyes gradually clearing. “Physician! Thank you for saving me.”

“No need for thanks. Are there any villages nearby?”

“Yes!” Wu San nodded eagerly. “Does the benefactor need a place to rest? My home is close by, I can take you there.”

Ying Qujie nodded. “Much obliged.”

According to Wu San, he had been delirious, wandered into the mountains, and gotten lost for days. If not for encountering Ying Qujie, he would have surely died.

Who would have thought that misfortune would turn to blessing? After taking Ying Qujie’s medicine, the fog in his mind cleared completely, and his thoughts became as sharp as any normal person’s.

With a guide now, they followed a well-trodden path, crossed two mountains, and suddenly the view opened up, a vast stretch of flat farmland stretched before them.

In the distance lay a small village.

The sun was setting, and smoke curled from the chimneys of every household.

Wu San pointed in a direction, explaining that unlike other families who planted persimmon or jujube trees in front of their homes, his family had a tall, straight white poplar, making it easy to recognize.

Wu San scratched his head sheepishly and grinned. “I used to be slow-witted. Decades ago, my mother planted that tree herself so I could always find my way home. It’s still useful now.”

Following his direction, it was indeed easy to spot his house at a glance.

Wu San led Ying Qujie across the fields.

They took a narrow path.

He Qingsheng perched atop Ying Qujie’s head, and Wu San kept sneaking glances at her.

She flashed him a sinister grin, and Wu San immediately shrank back, quickening his pace.

This Wu San, though he carried no aura of death, was still on the brink of dying.

He Qingsheng didn’t mention it to Ying Qujie. The young physician had finally managed to save two people in the mountains, only for neither to survive. She worried it might leave him with psychological scars.

Of course, aside from that, she was more curious about why this mortal couldn’t be saved. Ying Qujie’s medicine was no ordinary remedy, and Wu San had no fatal injuries, yet he could still see her.

Her instincts told her there was something strange at play here.

Wu San’s chosen path didn’t lead them past any other villagers, and they headed straight for his home. Beneath the white poplar, the wooden door of his house was slightly ajar, as if someone was inside.

“Mother!” Wu San rushed in first, calling loudly, “I’m back, Mother!”

The sizzling sounds from the kitchen paused, and a woman in her thirties stepped out, looking surprised. “Wu San? You actually came back!”

“Yes, Sister Zhang, I’m back.”

Staring at the newly revitalized Wu San, Sister Zhang’s shock deepened. “San’er, you’re… better?”

Wu San hurried forward, peering into the kitchen. “Yes, Sister Zhang. Where’s my mother?”

“Oh, go check the inner room! She’s been sick with worry since you disappeared. No amount of comforting helped.” Sister Zhang pointed inside.

Wu San gave a quick thanks before rushing into the inner room, no longer concerned with anything else.

Auntie Zhang eyed the newcomer curiously as Ying Qujie stepped through the door. Dressed in a simple blue-white robe, his tall and slender figure was striking, and his face was more handsome than any she had ever seen. Struggling to find the right words, she blurted out, “Immortal Master, this way, please.”

Ying Qujie chuckled and shook his head. “Auntie, my name is Ying Qujie. I’m just an herbalist gathering herbs in the mountains.”

“Oh, oh, Physician Ying! Our humble place is nothing much, but please don’t mind the simplicity. Have a seat, and I’ll fetch you some water.” Auntie Zhang muttered to herself, With skin so fair and delicate, how could he possibly endure the hardships of roughing it outdoors?

“No need, Auntie. I’ll go inside and take a look.”

Auntie Zhang smacked her forehead. “Ah, how silly of me! You’re a physician, what perfect timing to check on Auntie Wu.”

Ying Qujie nodded and strode into the room. He Qingsheng had already darted inside from the wooden puppet, unable to shake her unease.

Mostly, she was worried about Wu San and his mother.

The moment Wu San’s mother saw her son, her spirits lifted instantly. Noticing how gaunt his face had become from hunger, she tried to get up to cook him a proper meal to nourish him.

“Mother, I’m really fine. See how clearly I can speak now?” Wu San gently pressed her back onto the bed just as Ying Qujie entered. Seizing the moment, he introduced, “Mother, this is the physician who saved me. Just look at him, such an otherworldly aura, a true saintly man!”

He Qingsheng had floated in earlier, observing carefully, but found nothing unusual, both Wu San and his mother were ordinary people.

Yet, standing close by, she immediately noticed the flicker of murderous intent in Wu San’s mother’s eyes the moment the words “otherworldly aura” were spoken.