May 20, 2019, Monday.
Spring ended and summer began.
During this season, the temperature difference between day and night in the Jiangnan region was huge. People wore shorts and baked like dogs during the day, yet had to shrink into their duvets at night, freezing like long-tailed tits.
Jiangnan University Town.
At two-thirteen in the afternoon, this was precisely the time when students attended classes. Song Shuhang stayed in the dorm all by himself, his computer desk pulled right up to the edge of his bed so he could watch movies in all sorts of postures.
Song Shuhang did not have a habit of skipping classes—in the dead of night yesterday, the weather had been sultry and stifling. In his slumber, he unleashed a move called Double Dragons Emerging from the Sea and kicked the quilt flying. In the latter half of the night, the temperature plummeted. Song Shuhang, wearing nothing more than a pair of small briefs all over his body, found himself utterly miserable. Groping blindly on the bed in his sleep, searching high and low, he could not find the quilt. In the end, he could only curl up into the shape of a mantis shrimp, shivering under the tyrannical might of the midnight cold wind.
When the rising sun ascended, Song Shuhang had already become a member of the seasonal-cold army.
His roommates had already asked for leave for his classes today.
Afterward, he took cold medicine and slept straight through until now.
His high fever had subsided, but his body still felt somewhat drained; in this state, attending class was utterly out of the question. Therefore, he could only stay alone in the dorm, watching movies out of boredom.
On the screen, the movie's progress bar slowly advanced. As for the contents of the film, however, Song Shuhang had not taken in a single bit of it.
Has the medicine's effect not worn off yet? I'm so sleepy. He yawned, feeling his eyelids grow somewhat heavy.
Beep beep beep~ At this moment, the chat software in the bottom-right corner of the computer bounced.
This was a notification that someone had added him as a friend or into a chat group.
"Who's adding me?" Song Shuhang muttered. He reached out and gently tapped the bottom-right corner of the computer's touch screen, and a prompt message popped up.
[True Lord Yellow Mountain (＊＊＊＊＊＊) requests to add you as a friend.] Additional message: None.
True Lord Yellow Mountain? Who on earth was this, with such a bizarre nickname?
"Is it a classmate from class?" Song Shuhang thought to himself, his mind inevitably recalling those few fellows in his class who were clearly already in university yet still lived in a state of adolescent fantasy. If it were them, they truly would come up with such a weird nickname.
Thinking of this, he clicked Agree.
Immediately following that, another system message popped up.
[True Lord Yellow Mountain invites you to join the group 'Nine Provinces Number One Group'. Do you agree?]
Song Shuhang continued by pressing agree.
Stressed by a Mountain of Books agreed to join Nine Provinces Number One Group.
[You have successfully joined the group, go say hello to your fellow group members!] It even came with an attached system smiley face.
Chat tools nowadays were becoming more and more humanized.
After a succession of prompts popped up, Song Shuhang calmly closed the notifications and the group chat window—he was currently overcome with sleepiness, where would he have the energy to care about what sort of group he had just joined?
Anyway, his group settings had always been No notification of messages, display count only. Chats in the group wouldn't pop up to disturb him; they would only display the chat count behind the group name.
Once he grew a bit more sober, he could go flip through the chat logs and thus know what kind of group he had joined, and the chat logs of the members in the group wouldn't be lost either.
His eyes grew heavier and heavier...
The movie progress bar still stubbornly pushed forward, yet Song Shuhang's consciousness grew increasingly hazy.
＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊
Inside Nine Provinces Number One Group, upon seeing a new member join, the lurking members in the chat bobbed to the surface.
Northern River's Loose Cultivator: "Did True Lord Yellow Mountain add a new fellow Daoist in? It's already been over a year since he last added a newcomer, right?"
Another ID known as Su Clan’s Seven replied swiftly: "There's a new fellow Daoist? Which region of China is the fellow Daoist from? Which grotto-heaven are you cultivating in? What's your Daoist title? What rank is your cultivation?"
With this rapid succession of questions, one somehow felt that something wasn't quite right?
Almost simultaneously, the ID Mad Saber Three Waves popped up with a message: "New fellow Daoist's gender? Is he an immortal fairy? If so, report your vital statistics and flash a photo!"
Upon seeing the messages from Su Clan’s Seven and Mad Saber Three Waves, several people in the group twitched at the corners of their mouths.
"Brother Sanlang, are you really a goldfish?" Northern River's Loose Cultivator sighed. "Don't go courting death again. What if True Lord Yellow Mountain happens to add another great senior to the group?"
There was nothing wrong with this fellow Sanlang—he was affectionate, righteous, and happy to help others, which was why his popularity was quite good—except that he usually liked to run his mouth and possessed a remarkable talent for courting death.
Yet this fellow's luck value was also despicably low; every time he inadvertently courted death, the ones he offended were invariably great seniors. These idle seniors with nothing better to do were just fretting over a lack of amusement, so naturally they were more than happy to toss Mad Saber Three Waves—this delivery of fun straight to their doorstep—around through all sorts of torments.
"I implore you all on bended knees not to mention the words 'great senior', this seat has psychological shadows." Mad Saber Three Waves posted a row of tears streaming down the face emojis.
Four years ago, this loose mouth of his had offended a pretty great senior and was tormented miserably... That great senior had tortured him continuously for a full year and four months. You heard that right, a full year and four months! Recalling that inhumane, magnificent period of years, the corners of his eyes grew damp.
As soon as Sanlang finished uttering these words, bad smile emojis popped up in the group one after another—unconcealed, straightforward gloating.
There were eight people showing online status in the group, among whom six simultaneously popped up a whole row of flashing smiley faces.
"You bunch of gloating bastards, this seat has remembered every single one of you. Don't let me run into you, or else I'll definitely make you sample the might of this seat's seventy-two fast blades!" Mad Saber Three Waves said with lingering hatred. He had a lot of confidence in his fast blades; among the six bastards who had just smiled evilly, not a single one was his match in single combat.
Just as Mad Saber Three Waves finished speaking.
A bad smile emoji immediately popped up in the group once more, sent by Su Clan’s Seven.
Then Su Clan’s Seven stated with great excitement: "When are we fighting one-on-one?"
Clearly, Su Clan’s Seven had no intention of gloating—he simply wanted to pick a fight with someone.
"..." Mad Saber Three Waves instantly wilted.
Because he could not beat Aqi!
His cultivation was profound, having already reached the late stage of the Fifth-Stage Spirit Emperor realm, and he was only two steps away from the Sixth-Stage Spirit Monarch, yet he could not beat Aqi.
His seventy-two-style blade technique was fast and fierce, paired with lightning-fast footwork, but he still could not beat Aqi.
He was known as Mad Saber Three Waves, and when he went mad he even feared himself, yet he simply could not beat Aqi!
Seeing Sanlang wither, the people in the group unleashed another string of uninhibited smiling faces.
"..." This time, Mad Saber Three Waves could only depressedly send a string of colons.
The people in the group had been making a ruckus for ages, yet they saw no sound from the newcomer, which felt somewhat perplexing.
"Is the new fellow daoist not speaking?" Northern River's Loose Cultivator asked aloud.
Regrettably, due to the efficacy of the cold medicine, Song Shuhang had once again entered a semi-sleep state.
At this time, Su Clan’s Seven happily sent another message: "I took a look, the new fellow daoist is called 'Stressed by a Mountain of Books'. Has anyone heard of an expert with this daoist name? Does this daoist name sound somewhat like a practitioner of the Confucian Sect? How truly anticipated! In recent years, the practitioners of the Confucian Sect have lived in deep seclusion, impossible to find anywhere. I haven't fought any of them in nearly a hundred years! Thinking back, Confucian practitioners are even more exhilarating to fight than Buddhist ones; not only are their tongues sharp, but their fists are hard enough too. Moreover, when the fighting spirit reaches its peak, they will boldly chant poems to heighten the mood, absolutely exhilarating! I love fighting them the most."
"Aqi, I must say, is your only expectation for a new fellow daoist always whether they are good to fight and whether the fight is exhilarating?" Mad Saber Three Waves sent a face-streaming-with-tears expression and said. This was simply tyrannical behavior, alright?!
"Uh." Su Clan’s Seven felt somewhat embarrassed.
Northern River's Loose Cultivator gave a mischievous smile and said, "Could this be another 'great senior' who doesn't know how to use chat software?"
When he said this, everyone felt that this scene had an intense sense of deja vu.
That's right, roughly four years ago, there seemed to also be a senior who came out of seclusion after more than a hundred years. Just as arduous was he getting onto chat software, only to be added to the group by True Lord Yellow Mountain. Yet because he didn't know how to type, he hadn't spoken.
Then, a fellow called Mad Saber Three Waves happily tossed out flirtatious nonsense in front of this senior, asking this senior to report her vital statistics, asking her to send photos, and wanting to voice chat and whatnot.
Then... within a few days, Mad Saber Three Waves saw this senior with his own eyes. That was a very beautiful senior, as dazzling and lovely as the bright moon in the night sky.
Following that, this beautiful senior tormented Mad Saber Three Waves for a full year and four months before departing with a feeling of complete satisfaction.
Mad Saber Three Waves instantly knelt.
"Yellow Mountain?" At this moment, an ID named 'Medicine Master' spoke.
An inexplicable, brief message, completely lacking a head or tail.
Fortunately, the people in the group were long accustomed to Medicine Master's brief chatting habits—he was asking where group owner True Lord Yellow Mountain was.
His brief speech was not because Medicine Master possessed a noble and aloof personality, but rather because he used a two-finger zen typing method combined with handwriting, making his speed abysmally slow. When the word count was high, he was also prone to errors, and deleting and rewriting was excruciatingly painful. Therefore, Medicine Master was accustomed to keeping his speech as brief as possible. Over time, it evolved into this current style of communication where words were as precious as gold.
"He logged off immediately after adding someone. I heard that his precious prize great demon hound ran away from home in a fit of pique, and True Lord Yellow Mountain went off to chase it again. Handling that precious prize great demon hound is no easy task, so the True Monarch must definitely be very busy right now. Being able to log on and add people is already a rare snatched moment of free time," Northern River's Loose Cultivator replied.
"..." Medicine Master.
"Then we can only wait until the new fellow daoist learns how to use chat software before chatting." Su Clan’s Seven sighed. They had all formed a preconception that the newcomer was likewise a person of the same path.
Seeing that the new fellow daoist had no reaction, the few who were online saw there was no fun to be had and one after another went lurking.
Roughly an hour later, Song Shuhang sobered up slightly.
"I remember someone added me to a group just now, it seemed to be called Nine Provinces Number One Group?" he muttered softly, casually tapping open the chat software in the bottom right corner to pull up the chat window for Nine Provinces Number One Group.
What kind of group was it anyway?
Very quickly, the chat logs from an hour ago appeared before him.
Song Shuhang browsed through them roughly.
Fellow daoists? Immortal caves? What stage of cultivation?
And seniors? True monarchs? This lord? Hunting down a great demon hound?
All sorts of specialized vocabulary found in xianxia novels.
The chatting and speaking styles of the group members were also very interesting—half-ancient, half-vernacular. It gave people the feeling of modern people attempting to communicate in ancient language, yet precisely because their mastery of classical Chinese was substandard, it resulted in a very awkward manner of communication.
"Pfft~~" Song Shuhang laughed out loud.
It looked like this was a group created by xianxia enthusiasts?
Oh no, this was definitely not an ordinary xianxia enthusiast group!
Everyone in the group gave themselves a daoist name, places they lived had to be called immortal caves, and the group owner's lost pet dog had to be described as the family's great demon hound running away from home. There was even someone claiming they hadn't fought a Confucian practitioner in hundreds of years, meaning that person claimed to have already lived for several hundred years?!
Just looking at these chat logs gave him a sense of secondhand embarrassment.
This level of obsession has already reached the level of chūnibyō, and it's xianxia chūnibyō with distinct Chinese characteristics at that, Song Shuhang secretly nodded.
It looked like this was a concentration camp for xianxia chūnibyō patients!
This was his first impression of the 'Nine Provinces Number One Group' and its members.
Yet why had he been added to the group?
He took a look at group owner True Lord Yellow Mountain's profile; they weren't a classmate of his, and he certainly didn't know him.
Was it added by mistake?
Before you continue