The Immortal Venerable Went Mad After My Faked Death [Transmigration] - Chapter 1

Ji Yunzhao was awakened by the cold.

The morning light was faint, filtering through the soft, white clouds and falling upon the mountain ranges shrouded in mist.

A thin layer of moisture had condensed on the branch where Ji Yunzhao was perched, and a dewdrop slid off a leaf, landing squarely on his head. It was early spring, and the temperature had not yet fully recovered. The mountain air was chilly, and the downy feathers on his head were soaked and matted together. With a sudden shudder, Ji Yunzhao’s meager sleepiness vanished completely.

“Ah-Tong, is there really no way to get me a bird’s nest? It’s so cold…”

A small, fluffy ball, seemingly wrapped in black mist, emerged from the dense greenery and circled a few times around the red-and-white bird perched on the branch.

“I’m afraid not, Host,” the System sighed, its tone remarkably human as it settled beside him. “Until you meet the male lead, I can’t provide you with anything—I lack both the authorization and the power!”

The plump little bird wilted instantly, like a pricked balloon.

This was the third day since the Main God had packed Ji Yunzhao and his System together and tossed them into this “Dragon-Awe” (OP protagonist) cultivation novel. Having transmigrated into a bird, he had been forced to sleep in the open and eat the wind and dew ever since.

Truth be told, he felt quite wronged. The Main God had decided to hold an employee assessment out of the blue, without any prior notice. The Personnel Department—those who played dirty with their surprise raids—had flashed in and out of existence, and with a single “fail” stamp, he wasn’t even a human anymore.

He was here for involuntary overtime, and he had transmigrated into the future bird of the male lead a proper bird, an unidentified cultivation-world species that, in its youth, looked very much like a Long-tailed Tit. According to the original plot, as a pet, he was supposed to follow the male lead, eat well, and act cute whenever necessary. His role was minor, which was why the original novel hadn’t even bothered to mention his species. It should have been a perfect setup for a salted-fish character like him, who spent his dreams trying to slack off. But…

The timing of his arrival was wrong; he had been sent in far too early.

He had arrived during the year when the male lead, Yan Fulang, was thrown off a cliff to die by the early-stage antagonist.

Lying flat and doing nothing was no longer an option, and the “salted fish” lifestyle was off the table. When he was dumped here, the System had been pulling an all-nighter playing games, and its power was at a mere 3%. Many permissions remained locked. Now, not only was he unable to freeload off the male lead, he had to figure out how to survive at the bottom of the cliff.

“When exactly is the male lead going to fall down here?” Ji Yunzhao felt a headache coming on. “He didn’t fall the day before yesterday, he didn’t fall yesterday; surely he must fall today?!”

This godforsaken place was freezing. If he didn’t see the male lead soon, he would… he would…

Before he could decide what he would do, a black shadow suddenly streaked before his eyes.

Whoosh! Bang!

Two loud noises followed in quick succession, startling countless birds. A grayish-black figure fell from the cliff, flashing past his eyes and smashing a deep crater into the damp grass.

System: “!” The System nearly crashed. After flying over to take a look, it stuttered: “The… the male lead?!”

Ji Yunzhao: “…Ah?”

His tiny bird claws failed to grip the branch, and in his shock, Ji Yunzhao slipped and tumbled down, splat, right onto Yan Fulang’s chest.

What was happening? Why did the male lead actually fall just because he was complaining about it? Had he awakened a “speech-manifestation” ability along with his transmigration?

…

Deep inside a mountain cave at the bottom of the cliff, Ji Yunzhao squatted before a small mound of dry branches and leaves, attempting to start a fire.

The male lead being thrown off the cliff by the petty antagonist was a major plot point in the early chapters. As the story unlocked, the System’s permissions also opened up. After three days of living as a wild bird, Ji Yunzhao had finally regained his human body. As for the other trivial and useless permissions, he didn’t really care for them at the moment.

He was dressed in white, fitting for the cultivation world, though the sleeves were stained with bits of dirt and grass, and his fair, slender fingers were also tinted by dust and mud.

Originally, Ji Yunzhao hadn’t wanted to take on the trouble of saving the male lead. But the System had informed him that, according to the Main God, the cultivation world “Big Boss” who lived in seclusion at the bottom of the cliff had mysteriously disappeared and couldn’t make it back in time to “pick up” the male lead.

“Besides, Host, don’t you feel like the male lead is getting a bit cold?” the System had said at the time. “He won’t die, but what if he develops sequelae?”

The System was deeply worried, which made Ji Yunzhao worry as well—specifically about how it might impact his beautiful, lazy retirement life. So, he decided to play the good guy for once.

“Ah-Tong, open my space inventory. I remember I have a lighter and some charcoal left over from three missions ago, plus a medical kit. Those are urgently needed.”

Ji Yunzhao rested his chin on the back of his hand—which was relatively clean—and used a branch in his other hand to poke at the pile of leaves. He let out a long sigh. “This pile of junk won’t catch fire!”

In the mist-covered mountains, and with it being spring, everything was damp, much like the “return of the moisture” season in the south. The leaves and branches he gathered held too much water. Even if he used the System’s head to rub them together, he couldn’t conjure a spark.

“Host, I’m sorry. Insufficient permissions.”

The System had also recovered its original form—a small, black cat with wings, its body pulsating with thick mist. With a flick of its pitch-black tail, the System sent Ji Yunzhao a “QAQ” emoji.

“Our mission progress is only enough to unlock these… The Main God also specifically said you aren’t allowed to cheat by using the storage space.”

Ji Yunzhao: “…Screw that old geezer, the Main God. He’s ruthless.”

Yan Fulang was half-leaning against the rough stone wall beside Ji Yunzhao, his head drooping. His young, handsome face was marked by several scratches from brushing against branches. They weren’t deep, and would likely heal soon. But from the moment Ji Yunzhao found him and dragged him into the cave with the System’s help until now, he had not once woken up.

If it weren’t for the fact that his long, slender eyelashes would occasionally tremble, and his chest still showed faint signs of rising and falling—plus the universal law of this novel world that the protagonist never dies—Ji Yunzhao would have been worried that he had already turned cold.

The boy’s body was very cold. Wrapped from head to toe in the mountain mist of the early morning, he felt neither fully wet nor fully dry, just damp all over. He desperately needed a fire to warm up.

Ji Yunzhao tried a while longer, but the fire still wouldn’t ignite. He looked at Yan Fulang, who was nearly as cold as a corpse, and after a moment’s thought, he picked up a sharp shard of stone from the ground.

Without hesitation, he pressed it against the boy’s throat.

The System was stunned by his reckless move, its mechanical voice distorting: “Host, you, you, you what are you doing?!”

“That old thing, the Main God, threw me here because he thought I wasn’t active enough in my previous missions, right?” Ji Yunzhao’s hand, gripping the stone shard, was steady. “Well, I’ve changed. I’ve become very active. I’m in a rush to advance the plot and save the male lead, but even if I want to save him, I don’t have the conditions. Since I can’t save him, we might as well go out together. If this book-world collapses, I don’t care. I’m neither human nor bird anyway, and the Main God won’t let me go back to the main world.”

After saying this, Ji Yunzhao pressed the shard harder against Yan Fulang’s neck, successfully drawing a new drop of blood.

System: “…” The Main God, watching through the System’s eyes and truly feeling threatened: “…”

Three minutes later, a bright fire burned within the cave.

With a medical kit in one hand and a small stool in the other, Ji Yunzhao walked over and sat in front of Yan Fulang to treat his wounds. The young, pre-fame Dragon-Awe protagonist wore rags; his gray-black coarse cloth clothes had been shredded by rocks and branches during his fall. When Ji Yunzhao’s hand accidentally poked through a hole he hadn’t noticed and got caught on the belt, he simply stripped Yan Fulang bare.

Perhaps due to the rough handling, the unconscious little Dragon-Awe frowned, and his thick, long eyelashes trembled violently.

Ji Yunzhao paused, feeling guilty. Uh oh, did I accidentally pull on the little Dragon-Awe? …I didn’t break it, did I?

He pursed his lips and cautiously lifted Yan Fulang’s ragged hem, leaning over to peek.

Phew, all good. Looks pretty healthy.

The System stepped to Yan Fulang’s side, wanting to join in the fun and have a look, but Ji Yunzhao covered its eyes and pushed it away.

After this small interlude, Ji Yunzhao successfully changed Yan Fulang into clean clothes and properly bandaged his external wounds. Perhaps out of guilt for accidentally grabbing the “fatal” spot, Ji Yunzhao was much gentler. He put the alcohol back into the kit, replacing it with saline and iodine to clean the wounds. Yan Fulang had many external injuries but no internal ones, likely due to his protagonist halo—he didn’t even have any serious fractures. According to the System’s scan, he only had two cracked ribs; they would heal on their own with some rest.

After all that work, it was soon noon. Ji Yunzhao hadn’t eaten anything that morning; once he stopped, hunger hit him in waves. The system space was full of practical tools, but there wasn’t much food, only a few packets of nutrient solution left over from a previous interstellar mission.

It didn’t taste very good, but Ji Yunzhao was too lazy to go out and look for anything else. He sat down beside Yan Fulang, tore open a packet, and started drinking.

The System whispered, “Blech, that’s terrible. I thought I’d never have to see this stuff again.”

“Just make do until that missing ‘Big Boss’ returns,” Ji Yunzhao advised it. “At least it converts into battery power.”

The “Golden Finger” mentor was a staple of Dragon-Awe novels; Ji Yunzhao had never expected that the Big Boss would actually go missing. However, he and the System waited a long time—from day to night, and then from night to day—but the late cultivator had yet to return.

Calculating the time, Yan Fulang hadn’t eaten for over 24 hours. For a boy who hadn’t started cultivating yet and was still technically a mortal with injuries, this was not looking good.

Ji Yunzhao had previously thought that since the Big Boss was coming to pick him up, he would just wait for the System to detect the energy fluctuation and let the Big Boss handle it. He had only been using water to moisten Yan Fulang’s cracked lips. But now…

“Is the male lead going to be staying with me?” Ji Yunzhao asked the System, feeling perplexed.

Breakfast today was still the nutrient solution. Ji Yunzhao and the System drank two packets, and he took the final one and shoved it toward Yan Fulang’s mouth, intending to force it in. According to the plot he’d received, Yan Fulang’s youth was difficult, and he was likely malnourished. This would be perfect the nutrient solution, while foul-tasting, was highly nourishing.

However, the unconscious boy’s thin lips were tightly pursed; no matter how Ji Yunzhao squeezed or forced it, he couldn’t get a drop inside.

Ji Yunzhao clicked his tongue. “Ah-Tong, do we have a nasal feeding tube?”

The System scratched its head: “This…”

Fine. Ji Yunzhao understood. No such high-tech gadget.

“Falling off a cliff didn’t kill him, but if he dies of hunger, that would be a joke,” Ji Yunzhao muttered, sitting down opposite Yan Fulang with a grave expression.

He prepared himself mentally.

“For retirement, for lying flat, for the right to slack off… well, and to save a life, I suppose it doesn’t matter if I lose my first kiss. I’m not some old-fashioned prude… Ah-Tong, turn your head away. No peeking.”

After speaking, Ji Yunzhao took a mouthful of the nutrient solution without swallowing. A pair of slender, fair hands cupped the boy’s face. Ji Yunzhao took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and leaned in.

His soft, pale pink lips met the dry, thin ones. Carefully and gently, he licked open Yan Fulang’s lips, pried apart his teeth, and transferred the nutrient solution.

He did not notice the boy’s crow-feather-like eyelashes tremble ever so slightly.

In the next instant, Ji Yunzhao felt his wrist gripped tightly by an immense force.

Ji Yunzhao was startled, his eyes snapping open.

He collided with a pair of incredibly cold, peach-blossom eyes.

Yan Fulang had woken up.