Please, Don’t Die - Chapter 2

“You’re the first person I’ve ever tried to save, you can’t die!”

“I used so many precious spiritual medicines! You can’t die!”

Anyone looking at their own corpse from a third-person perspective would probably feel a bit strange.

But as He Qingsheng watched the rambling man in green robes and her own rapidly cooling body, she suddenly felt a sense of helplessness.

She had quickly adapted to the floating state of being a ghost.

It was quite light and airy.

The man in green still carried a trace of youthful innocence in his features, his eyes clear and bright, like a young master from some noble family just out for his first experience in the world.

When he had tried to save her, his movements were elegant and composed, but the three consecutive cries of “You can’t die!” still betrayed a hint of youthful impulsiveness beneath his calm and gentle demeanor.

He Qingsheng sighed. She had no family or connections, and if the medicines were so precious, why waste them on someone like her, who was already at death’s door?

“Stop feeding me. They’re already dead.”

The man stiffened, his hand tightening around the medicine bottle. He instinctively started to look up at her but immediately restrained himself, pretending not to have heard her words.

Only then did He Qingsheng realize, he had no spiritual power.

He wasn’t a cultivator.

Mianrihui had long been extinct in the Twelve Regions. If the hidden path beneath the lava connected to the mortal realm, then everything made sense, no wonder she hadn’t been able to summon even a trace of spiritual energy earlier.

Between the cultivation world of the Twelve Regions and the mortal realm lay the Spirit Boundary.

The Spirit Boundary prevented the spiritual energy of the Twelve Regions from leaking out and also kept cultivators, who could move mountains and overturn the heavens from harming mortals.

If a struggling cultivator from the cultivation world tried to seek validation in the mortal realm, the Spirit Boundary would strip them of their cultivation to varying degrees.

At best, their realm would plummet; at worst, they would die on the spot.

But death was the lesser concern. If a cultivator’s realm plummeted, even if they didn’t fall into the hands of mortal cultivators or spirits desperate for spiritual energy, they might still end up at the mercy of unscrupulous mortals, unable to protect themselves.

Yes, the mortal realm also had spiritual energy, just extremely sparse. Mortal cultivators were few, but over the millennia, some had still managed to ascend.

Under such conditions, any cultivator who had hidden themselves in the mortal world would absolutely be someone a realm-plummeting cross-border cultivator couldn’t afford to provoke.

He Qingsheng had previously fought a bloody battle with a black-robed cultivator, adding fresh injuries to old wounds. Then, after falling from the Northern Region into the mortal realm and having her cultivation stripped away, she had still managed to be poisoned by Mianrihui.

Truly, her recent seclusion had brought her great progress.

And yet, this man in green, with no spiritual power at all, had dared to enter this dense forest alone, completely unafraid of mianrihui’s toxicity.

Could he be some kind of hidden master?

But his current behavior suggested… he was afraid of ghosts.

He Qingsheng frowned almost imperceptibly, crouching down and suddenly leaning in close to the man.

His long lashes trembled slightly before quickly lowering, giving off an inexplicably pitiful air.

Only then did she notice that the man had an exceptionally striking appearance, handsome brows, delicate eyes, warm and full of emotion. Perhaps because of his youth, his clear, bright eyes still held a touch of innocence, like a flawless piece of jade, making one unconsciously want to hide him away in a dark room to admire alone.

It was a kind of beauty that transcended gender, ambiguous yet strikingly direct.

If not for his clear, bright voice, it really would have been hard to tell his gender at first glance.

Ying Qujie, under the ghost woman’s intense gaze, calmly reached out and closed the unseeing eyes of the corpse in his arms:

“Miss, I’ve done all I can. Death severs all ties, please move on to reincarnation and don’t linger on past grievances.”

Since childhood, he had been able to see ghosts and spirits, headless, faceless, missing limbs, or horrifyingly grotesque apparitions were nothing new to him.

But none had been as eerie and sinister as the woman before him now. The malevolent energy around her was so thick it appeared crimson-black, the unmistakable mark of a vengeful spirit who had committed grievous sins in life and died with unresolved hatred. Yet, paradoxically, her features were exquisitely beautiful. Clad in bloodstained white robes, she stood amidst the swirling red-black miasma, creating a haunting, breathtaking allure.

Ying Qujie felt he was in no position to appreciate such a visually striking yet terrifying beauty.

The woman studied him for a moment before suddenly lunging toward him.

Instantly, the temperature around him dropped several degrees. But instead of passing through him as expected, the woman was violently repelled, her ferocious aura dissipating by half, her ghostly form growing faint.

He Qingsheng stared at her now-translucent spirit. The malevolent energy that had fueled her rage was suppressed, and the crimson tint in her eyes gradually faded, clarity returning.

Her thoughts settled.

Had she just tried to possess him?

And failed.

He Qingsheng circled the man a few times, probing him repeatedly. He was indeed just a mortal.

Aside from his unusually striking appearance and a vitality stronger than most, there was nothing extraordinary about him.

Narrowing her eyes, she conjured a blade of spiritual energy and slashed it toward the man in green robes.

“Ah, my apologies, I must have overlooked something.”

The man wore an expression of sudden realization, rising to his feet with unnatural ease and stepping back to evade her attack.

“Very well. Since fate has brought us together, I might as well do a good deed and see it through. I’ll erect a grave for you, miss, so you may rest in peace and ascend swiftly to the Pure Land.”

The blade, missing its mark, dissolved into blue fireflies, some landing on the hem of his robe.

He pretended not to notice but subtly brushed them off as he turned.

How interesting.

He Qingsheng floated behind him, silently speculating whether he would flee in panic once they entered the nearby dense woods.

To her surprise, he actually began searching earnestly for suitable branches to build a grave.

What kind of naive fool is this? she wondered.

Ying Qujie, meanwhile, kept one eye on the branches and the other on the ghostly woman beside him, wary of another sudden outburst. He couldn’t help but feel that his luck had truly run dry.

Not even two days after descending the mountain, he had finally encountered someone in need of rescue, only for them to die.

And not just die, but then try to take him along.

Ordinary vengeful spirits couldn’t harm him, but that blue blade earlier had given him a gut feeling that dodging was the only way to avoid joining the girl in death.

What a lunatic. Her own corpse was still lying there, yet she didn’t even care about leaving herself a proper burial.

Ah, well. No point reasoning with a vengeful ghost.

Ying Qujie sighed deeply. That this woman had turned into a vengeful spirit right before him was, without a doubt, the workings of fate and karma.

It couldn’t be helped. Since birth, he had been plagued by spirits of all kinds, big and small. The first words he learned weren’t “father” or “mother,” but the verses of the Rebirth Mantra: “Namo Amitābhāya Tathāgatāya.”

Ever since mastering the mantra as a child, every time he encountered a ghost, before he could even finish reciting it, the Black and White Impermanence would appear to escort the spirit away.

The Black and White Impermanence were tasked with guiding the souls of the deceased, and with countless souls to manage, some particularly remote or less harmful vengeful spirits had to wait their turn on the path to rebirth.

It was said that those who died with deep resentment would, as vengeful spirits, be forced to relive the agony of their deaths over and over in the place they perished.

If it hadn’t been him she encountered, this girl, filled with deep resentment, would have died in these remote mountains and ancient forests, perhaps unable to find peace for centuries.

Meeting him, even if he couldn’t save her, at least he could help her pass on to the underworld sooner, ending her mortal ties.

Ying Qujie kept the white-clad ghost girl in the corner of his eye while softly reciting the rebirth mantra under his breath with practiced ease.

He Qingsheng: “Little physician, what are you murmuring?”

“Ah, this piece looks good.” Ying Qujie tilted his head away from her closeness and went to pick up a broken piece of wood nearby.

He Qingsheng continued: “Little physician, who is your master? What brings you to these deep mountains and dense forests?”

Ying Qujie: “…”

Can’t hear you.

He Qingsheng: “Little physician, your outer robe is quite lovely. Be careful not to snag it on the thorns.”

Ying Qujie: “…”

Thanks for the reminder.

He Qingsheng: “Little physician, you’re quite handsome. Are you betrothed? Would you like to accompany me to the underworld and form a marriage bond?”

Ying Qujie: “…”

Sorry, not interested.

Damn it, where are the Black and White Impermanence when you need them?

He Qingsheng teased lightly, watching as the tips of his ears turned red and his expression grew increasingly awkward. For a moment, her mood lifted slightly.

Youth, so incapable of hiding emotions.

After Fuliu was destroyed, she had grown accustomed to the deceitful flattery of all manner of demons and spirits. It had been a long time since anyone had been so vividly real in front of her.

“Little physician, you used so many bottles of medicine earlier… There’s a snake on the branch to your right! Be careful!”

So, you do know I used many bottles of medicine earlier? Every single one was painstakingly brewed by hand!

The thought of his hard-earned, meticulously prepared elixirs made Ying Qujie’s heart ache. So, when he heard about the snake, he instinctively looked up in alarm toward the upper right.

What met his eyes was a straight, towering tree trunk, no extra branches in sight.

“Stop pretending. You can see me.”

Ying Qujie: “…”

Well, damn.

He Qingsheng watched as the man’s demeanor instantly deflated, finding it somewhat amusing:

“Little physician, since you’re digging me a grave and setting up a tombstone, shouldn’t you know my name and origins? Talk to me, I won’t harm you.”

“You nearly killed me earlier,” Ying Qujie retorted boldly, giving up on evasion.

He Qingsheng faltered. In truth, that spiritual blade of hers had looked fierce, but it was just a bluff she’d learned from her junior sister.

Now a mere remnant of a soul, she couldn’t possibly muster such formidable spiritual energy.

She was just using a few harmless little spells to scare people.

But she had no intention of explaining that to him and guiltily changed the subject.

“Ah, these flowers are so… flowery.”

Ying Qujie: “…”

Seeing that she truly had no intention of attacking him and was merely following him step by step, Ying Qujie sighed and steeled himself to return to the flower field with the broken wood.

From his basket, he clattered out a medicine sickle and shovel, then dug a shallow pit near where the petals had fallen.

With a flick of his wrist, he sliced the wood into a rectangular plank as smoothly as cutting tofu.

He Qingsheng watched his swift, precise movements, realizing that this man had some skill to dare venture alone into these remote mountains.

“He Qingsheng. My name is He Qingsheng.”

Still, he ignored her, his hands moving steadily as wood shavings flew. Soon, bold, unrestrained characters were carved into the plank:

“Tomb of He Qingsheng.”

He Qingsheng often found him hallucinating about his junior brother, especially now when his demeanor resembled a child throwing a tantrum, which always made her unable to resist teasing him a little.

“Little physician, aren’t you going to ask me which characters to carve? What if you get them wrong?”

Ying Qujie replied calmly, “He Qingsheng ‘congratulating Qingsheng.’ A name with such a blessing-like meaning would never be some obscure character.”

He Qingsheng fell silent, not responding.

Congratulating Qingsheng, congratulating Qingsheng.

Yes, there was once such a world where she was born under her parents’ expectations and grew up safely in a peaceful society.

It had been five hundred years since she crossed over.

Five hundred years flowed like water. Along the long path of cultivation, she thought she had long forgotten the fleeting twenty years of modern life, only to realize she had simply not dared to remember.

With vengeance unfulfilled and a heart full of resentment, she had died in this foreign world. For the first time, He Qingsheng felt a wave of desolate weariness.

“Sorry,” Ying Qujie looked up at her.

“Little physician, all my family and friends were persecuted by villains, and my entire household perished. Alone, without kin or companions, I drifted for so long and died in a strange land. Since you’re the one burying me, carve your name as well, pretend I was laid to rest by a friend, so I won’t be lonely in death. Would that be alright?”

“Alright.”

Suppressing a smile, He Qingsheng leaned in closer.

“Friend, Ying Qujie, erected.” A line of small characters appeared in the lower left corner of “Tomb of He Qingsheng.”

She pretended to be on the verge of tears, feigning gratitude, and made as if to kneel, only for him to dodge swiftly.

Ying Qujie: “There’s no need for that, Miss He.”

He Qingsheng said, “Physician Ying’s great kindness deserves such gratitude, but this jade pendant at my waist was a gift from my master. His whereabouts are unknown, and his fate is unclear. Now that I’m dead, I can no longer repay his kindness. Might I trouble you to take this pendant? If by chance you ever meet my master, please give it to him as a token of solace.”

Following the ghost’s gaze, Ying Qujie saw the white jade pendant hanging at her waist, its texture fine, its luster radiant, clearly of great value.

Suspicious, he glanced at the ghost wiping her tears with her sleeve. Something felt off, yet nothing seemed amiss.

He carefully wiped the blood from the corpse’s face, revealing delicate, snow-like features.

Though dead, the traces of color had not yet fully faded. She looked peaceful, as if merely asleep, as if at any moment, she might lift her eyelids to reveal starlit eyes.

Ying Qujie studied the serene face of the corpse, then stole a glance at the thick, violent aura surrounding He Qingsheng. Indeed, this was the wrath of someone with immeasurable hatred, such was the cruelty of fate.

The corpse was light. As Ying Qujie carried her into the shallow grave, it felt like moving a feather, effortless.

Just as he was about to fill the grave, he paused, then reached out and removed the white jade pendant from her waist. He didn’t notice the small wound on his hand, from which drops of blood seeped silently into the jade.