A few minutes after Chen Xi’s dramatic exit, Xu Kai pushed himself up from the bed. Every muscle protested. The cot was deceptively comfortable, and a heavy exhaustion clung to him, whispering for him to just lie back down and let sleep claim him again.

  'No. Not this time.'

  He had been given a second life, however bizarre. Lazing around wasn’t an option.

  He swung his legs over the side and stood, his new body feeling strangely both sturdy and unfamiliar. He walked out of the room, his steps tentative on the floor.

  The space beyond surprised him. It was far larger than he’d imagined from inside the room. The walls were taut canvas, yes, but the structure itself felt solid, permanent, more like a proper building cleverly disguised as a tent. Sunlight filtered through the high, translucent peaks, illuminating a main living area sparsely furnished with a low table and a few chairs. The design was ingenious. Simple, but cool.

  He glanced around. No sign of Chen Xi.

  His eyes landed on the only other door. That had to be her room. He approached slowly. Barging in felt wrong, a violation of a boundary he didn’t yet understand. He raised his hand and knocked.

  Silence.

  He waited, then knocked again, firmer this time. The only answer was the quiet of the tent.

  'Is she that mad? Or is she even in there?'

  He couldn’t fathom her logic. He’d literally died and come back amnesiac, and she was hung up on a name? This type of woman was a complete mystery.

  “Hey,” he called out, his voice flat against the door. “If you don’t answer, I might just come in.”

  It was a bluff. He had no real reason to see her, but leaving her stewing in there felt like a mistake. She was his only link to this world, offended or not.

  “No! I don’t want to see you!” Her voice was muffled but sharp through the fabric.

  “Why?” he asked, playing dumb.

  “Master, don’t act like you don’t know!”

  “Is it because I didn’t remember your name? Are we seriously still on this?” He couldn’t keep the exasperation out of his voice.

  “Yes.”

  He leaned his forehead against the cool canvas.

  “Didn’t you hear me? I’ve forgotten everything. I didn’t even know my own name. My memory is totally gone. Don’t you have even a little pity?”

  A pause. Her voice was quieter when it came.

  “I do… But it’s still unacceptable.”

  Unacceptable. The word hung in the air. She had no rational ground to stand on, yet she stood there anyway. Was this a ploy? Was she trying to make him stand out here, twisting a knife of guilt he didn’t even feel?

  'Am I walking into a trap?'

  The suspicion swirled briefly, but he dismissed it.

  'What evil could this dramatic girl possibly be planning?'

  He sighed, a long, weary sound.

  'Fine. I would play along, if that would get her out.'

  “Okay, I understand,” he said, layering his voice with a contrition he didn’t feel. “If I offended you, then I apologize.”

  The words were empty, just sounds meant to lure. He’d done nothing wrong. The fault lay with the fall, the failure, the transmigration, not with him.

  Silence answered him. Thick and complete.

  'So that didn’t work.'

  He stood there for another moment, listening to the nothingness from the other side of the door. The bait was ignored. With a final shake of his head, he turned. Let her sulk. She’d come out when she was ready.

  At that moment, the door flew open.

  Chen Xi stood there, her earlier anger gone. Her expression was one of serious, wide-eyed surprise.

  “Master… are you okay?” she asked, her voice hushed.

  “Do I look like I am?” he countered, too tired to play along.

  Her eyes searched his face.

  “Did you… just apologize to me?”

  'Master never apologizes,' she thought, the realization dawning. 'Even if I’m throwing a fit, he just ignores me or tells me to be quiet. If I annoy him, he’ll say ‘sorry’ but it’s empty, just to make me go away. He only means it if it’s truly, completely his fault…'

  “What did it sound like?” Xu Kai replied, deflecting again.

  He was answering every question with another question, a frustrating habit that was somehow familiar.

  '…But he just did it. He apologized, without me even demanding it.' she thought.

  The concept was foreign.

  “Master, but… how?” she stammered, taking a half-step forward. “You rarely apologize to me so sincerely. You’ve changed.”

  'Who said it was sincere?' he thought inwardly, keeping his face neutral.

  “I lost my memory,” he said with a shrug. “What did you expect?”

  Chen Xi shook her head, as if clearing it. The way he’d been talking to her, the blunt replies, the lack of his usual stern posture… it clicked.

  'No,' she corrected herself. 'He hasn’t changed. He’s just… clueless.'

  A slow, thoughtful smile spread across her face. She put a finger to her chin, adopting a pose of deep consideration.

  “Well,” she began, drawing the word out. “If you really want me to forgive you… I suppose I can…”

  “Oka—”

  “…But,” she cut him off, her grin turning mischievous, “you’ll have to do something for me first.”

  She finished her sentence with a look of pure, mysterious delight.

  Xu Kai stared, momentarily lost.

  'Do something for her? Like what?'

  The thought was daunting. He was useless here. He knew nothing, could do nothing. He was a blank page in a master’s robes. She was the disciple, and clearly someone the original Xu Kai had trusted. He had no grounds to refuse outright, but blindly agreeing felt like stepping off a cliff.

  He needed to know the price first. He had a feeling that with Chen Xi, once you agreed, there was no backing out.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “What?” he finally asked, his voice flat.

  She paused, her smile faltering into a frown. She hadn’t expected that.

  “I thought I told you about—” The words died on her lips. Her brows shot up in sudden, genuine recollection.

  “Oh! I apologize, Master,” she said, offering a quick, perfunctory bow. “I almost forgot. You lost your memories.”

  “I understand,” Xu Kai replied, and he meant it.

  He completely understood her whiplash-inducing forgetfulness. It was perfectly in character. How could someone who’d just been furious he’d forgotten her name, remember that he’d also forgotten every other instruction she’d ever given him?

  'It was,' he realized, 'perfectly, impossibly normal for her.'

  Suddenly, she grinned even wider, a flash of pure, uncontained glee.

  “Follow me,” she chirped, spinning on her heel. She didn’t just walk outside, she practically hopped, her steps light and bouncy.

  Xu Kai tilted his head, watching her. The sudden shift from sulking to sunshine was suspicious, but he had little choice. He followed.

  She led him to the edge of the clearing where a massive, flat-topped boulder sat, half-buried in the earth. She paused before it for a second, then turned back to him with a silly, expectant smile.

  “Master, stay right here for a moment. I forgot something!” she announced, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

  'Is she always this forgetful?' Xu Kai thought, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

  “I’ll be super quick!” she promised, already dashing back toward the tent settlement in a blur of grey robes.

  'Probably forgot because she got too excited,' he mused, left alone in the quiet clearing. 'But what’s there to be excited about?'

  He couldn’t fathom her logic.

  True to her word, she returned in a flash. In her hands was a small, plain wooden bowl. Inside it was a dollop of a thick, vivid green paste.

  Chen Xi bounded up to the boulder. Without breaking stride, she planted a foot and pushed off. Her body rose effortlessly, a clean, graceful arc that landed her squarely on top of the massive stone. It was a casual display of impossible strength.

  Xu Kai’s eyes widened. He knew, intellectually, that cultivators could do such things. But knowing and seeing were worlds apart. The casual defiance of gravity right before his eyes… it hit different. A thrill, sharp and real, shot through him.

  Then, a more practical thought surfaced.

  'She didn’t even offer to help me up.'

  She settled cross-legged on the rock, placing the bowl carefully in front of her. She beamed down at him, her smile bright in the sunlight.

  “Master, come!” she called, waving him up.

  'Does this girl have a conscience?' he wondered, a flicker of genuine annoyance cutting through his awe. 'You leave an amnesiac at the foot of a cliff and just expect him to float?'

  But the annoyance was fleeting. Underneath it was a spark of keen anticipation. Ever since waking up in this world, a part of him had itched to try it, to see if the cool, fantastical abilities were really his to command. This was his first real chance.

  He took a deep, steadying breath, pushing Chen Xi’s thoughtlessness aside. He scoured his mind for every helpful scrap from the cultivation novels he’d skimmed in his past life. Focus. Intent. Qi.

  He willed himself upward.

  For a heart-stopping second, nothing happened. Then, a strange, buoyant sensation filled his legs. He felt lighter. He looked down. The ground was slowly, steadily falling away. He was levitating.

  A giddy shock washed over him. He was flying. Not on a machine, but under his own power. The air whispered past him, ruffling his robes with a gentle, thrilling touch. He rose smoothly, the world tilting as the top of the boulder drew nearer.

  A moment later, his feet touched down on the sun-warmed stone. The landing was soft, controlled, even graceful.

  Xu Kai stood there for a moment, a private victory buzzing under his skin. It was a small stunt, but the rush was real, a pure, uncomplicated joy he hadn’t felt since waking up here.

  It lasted about three seconds.

  “Master! Stop zoning out!” Chen Xi’s voice cut through his reverie like a knife.

  His happy moment shattered. He froze, closing his eyes. His hands tightened into fists at his sides, all his focus going into not snapping at her.

  'Does this girl have any sense of atmosphere at all?'

  He opened his eyes. And smiled.

  It wasn’t a warm smile. Seeing it, Chen Xi felt the air around them grow inexplicably, unnaturally hot. A primal instinct blared in the back of her mind. Something was wrong. Everything was wrong. A single bead of sweat traced a path down her temple.

  “Uh,” she managed, her bravado vanishing.

  “Chen Xi?” Xu Kai finally said. His voice was calm, but the single moment of silence before he spoke had felt like an eternity to her.

  “Ye-Yes, Master?!” she squeaked, sitting up straighter. “Is something the matter?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he walked over to her with slow, deliberate steps. He stopped right in front of her crouched form.

  “Mas— Ow!”

  Before she could finish, his finger shot out, flicking her squarely on the forehead with a soft thok.

  Chen Xi yelped, her hands flying to the spot.

  “It hurts!”

  “It wouldn’t have if you’d held your tongue,” Xu Kai said flatly.

  “But what did I even say?!” she wailed, rubbing the reddening spot.

  Xu Kai ignored her, turning his attention to their surroundings. He was standing atop a giant rock in the middle of what could only be described as a vast forest. Trees stretched in every direction, a sea of green so dense it swallowed the horizon. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and growing things, incredibly rich and cool in his lungs. It was oddly comforting.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Chen Xi pouting, shooting him a glare that was more wounded puppy than actual threat. The expression was so genuinely, comically upset that his irritation evaporated. His heart did a funny little flip.

  'Why does she have to be both completely crazy and disarmingly cute at the same time?'

  He shook his head slightly, as if trying to dislodge the contradiction.

  His gaze finally landed on the wooden bowl between them. The vivid green paste glistened ominously.

  “And what,” he asked, pointing a skeptical finger, “is this ridiculous green stuff?”

  He had a strong feeling that anything presented by this particular disciple had a high probability of being utterly absurd.

  “Master, be serious! Ridiculous? It is not ridiculous!” she huffed, her indignation momentarily overriding her pout. “Why do you always call it that? Are you looking down on my alchemical capabilities?”

  'Yes,' Xu Kai replied inwardly. He wisely kept the thought to himself.

  “What is it…” he asked again, carefully omitting the ‘green thing’ this time.

  Pleased he hadn’t insulted it, Chen Xi’s expression brightened.

  “This,” she announced proudly, “is Swan Poison.”

  The word ‘poison’ hit Xu Kai like a physical blow. He took an involuntary step back, putting more distance between himself and the bowl. He had no intention of dying a second time, especially not before this new life had even properly begun.

  Noticing his retreat, Chen Xi’s smile widened into a grin.

  “Don’t worry, Master! In its current, mixed state, it’s not poisonous to us cultivators.”

  Xu Kai relaxed a fraction, but one word stuck.

  “Yet?”

  “Yes, yet,” she confirmed, nodding. “At this unfinished stage, it would only affect normal mortals and animals. A cultivator would just get… a very bad stomachache.” She shrugged. “Diarrhea, mostly.”

  Xu Kai nodded slowly, the puzzle piece clicking into place. He finally understood the ‘yet’.

  Xu Kai eyed the green paste with wary curiosity. In this second life, no knowledge felt wasted.

  “I’m getting curious about this poison,” he admitted.

  Chen Xi’s face lit up.

  “Very well, Master! Before the mixture, it was a leaf, a Swan Leaf. It’s a vivid green, uniquely patterned. You can’t miss it among ordinary leaves; it gives off a faint, detectable energy.”

  “Is the energy… poisonous?” Xu Kai asked, unable to keep the wariness from his voice.

  Chen Xi chuckled, then leaned forward with a smug grin.

  “Master, are you scared?”

  “Why should I be?!” he shot back, too quickly.

  “Because you usually are,” she said, pouting dramatically. “Not about everything, but you’ve always been wary. Especially of anything your lovely disciple does.”

  'Even the original me was afraid of her?' Xu Kai thought, a slight shiver running down his spine. 'What in the world has this girl been doing?'

  “But really,” she continued, waving a dismissive hand, “you don’t have to fear the leaf. Like I said, it’s only dangerous to mortals right now. Not to us. Not until a cultivator finishes the process.”

  Xu Kai nodded, but the tension in his shoulders didn’t fully ease.

  “Is it finished?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “Can you finish it?”

  “I can, Master. That’s why I still have it,” she said with a shrug. “But it’s very difficult. Herbalism isn’t my strongest skill. I’m trying my best, though! Making progress!”

  “Good job,” Xu Kai said, the praise automatic.

  “Thanks, Master!” Chen Xi beamed, her whole posture lifting at the simple words.

  “So where did you find it? You didn’t just stumble upon it and randomly decide to turn it into poison, did you?” The suspicion was back in his tone.

  “Master! Do you still distrust everything I do? I’m a grown lady!” She added a loud ‘hmph’ for emphasis. “For your information, I couldn’t afford a prepared leaf, so I searched the forest for one. I read the preparation method from a scroll I bought in a city main market."

  With a flick of her wrist, a weathered scroll materialized in her hand, summoned from her Bag Of Withholding, Xu Kai presumed. She handed it to him.

  He took it, eyeing the parchment as if it might bite.

  “Are you sure this source is trustworthy? The main market has scammers too. They might get banned eventually, but that doesn’t mean everyone there is honest.”

  He scanned the scroll briefly, dense script and crude diagrams of leaves and cauldrons, then handed it back. It vanished back into her Bag Of Withholding.

  “I know, Master. But the seller was an old lady who specialized in this. She was quite famous for her herbal knowledge in her youth. I’ve bought lots of learning materials from her. You have, too. All of them were good. That’s why I trusted her with this.”

  “If that’s the case, then she must know her craft,” Xu Kai conceded, the last of his doubt fading.

  “She does!” Chen Xi chirped. “And she’s really nice! She even gave me a discount!”

  Xu Kai took a deep breath, the rich forest air filling his lungs. Time to cut to the chase.

  “So, back to the main point. You didn’t call me out here just to show me this. There’s something else.”

  Chen Xi’s playful expression melted away. Her face grew serious, all traces of the grinning girl gone.

  “Yes, Master,” she said, her voice dropping. “I actually want your support.”

  Xu Kai tilted his head.

  “For what?”

  She smiled then. But it wasn’t her usual bright, silly grin. This was darker, sharper, a smile of pure, sinister intent. The smile of someone plotting something very dangerous.

  Xu Kai didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  “In slaying a beast, of course.”