Shen Hui woke up in bed.
Staring at the familiar wooden beam overhead, he still felt a little dazed.
Sunlight seeped through the yellowed paper windows, spreading a hazy gray-white glow across the room.
The indigo cotton quilt still covered him, and the three-legged wooden table in the corner was still there, with several fruit pits set aside for planting sitting on top.
Everything was as usual.
He blinked.
Then he let out a long breath.
He raised a hand to wipe his face and sat up on the wooden bed.
He rubbed his heavy head, feeling sore and weak all over, as if someone had stuffed him into a sack and given him a thorough beating.
"Good thing I passed out in time last night..."
He muttered under his breath and was about to get out of bed when something occurred to him. He focused inward and summoned the Parchment Interface.
[Daoist Name]: Qingxuan [Bone Age]: Twenty-two [Realm]: Qi Induction (121/10000) [Status]: Meditating [Dao Xing]: 0 (Unavailable for allocation) [Dao Arts]: Two-Realm True Fire (Minor Accomplishment): The heart-lamp governs refinement, Sha Ghost governs killing, body and soul in the same furnace, burning inside and out. [Destined Path]: Undisclosed
Shen Hui stared at those lines for a long while, bewildered.
Two-Realm True Fire? Minor Accomplishment?
Hadn't that been an illusion he'd seen after being poisoned? Hadn't that little ghost been a tiny figure conjured by mushroom toxins?
He scrolled down, hoping to find more information. But the interface contained only those few lines; there was nothing below.
He sat dumbly on the bed as those absurd thoughts began to stir again, trying to claw their way out from the depths of his mind.
If it had all been an illusion, why had he really refined that little ghost?
But if it had been real, then what about the hole in his chest? What about all the blood on the ground? How had he woken up to find everything gone?
He threw off the quilt and jumped out of bed, then felt around his chest, stomach, and ribs. Everything was fine, without even a bruise.
He lifted the hem of his Daoist robe to check. Still fine.
To be sure, he finally undid his waistband and peered down.
Nothing was wrong there, either. It was still there.
He had just breathed a sigh of relief when, before he could fasten his waistband again, a voice without the slightest inflection came from the doorway:
"What are you doing?"
Shen Hui jumped inside, but kept his face impassive.
He calmly fastened his waistband and turned around. Second Senior Sister Jingming stood in the doorway, watching him with a level gaze.
Today she wore a gray cloth Daoist robe, washed pale, and her hair was pinned up with meticulous care. Her face still bore that unruffled expression, rather like the one Shen Hui was wearing at that moment.
Shen Hui straightened his collar, quickly sized up Jingming's expression, and, seeing nothing unusual, cleared his throat and spoke calmly:
"Did you need something, Senior Sister?"
Jingming's gaze lingered on his face for a moment. "You missed morning class today. Master sent me to see if you'd woken up."
Shen Hui's heart gave a thump.
Morning class?
He looked out the window.
The sky was bright, and the sun was already high. How could it still be the hour of the tiger?
"I..." He opened his mouth. "I overslept."
Jingming asked no more questions. She turned and walked out.
Shen Hui hesitated, then followed her.
They left the room. Jingming stood by the water trough in the courtyard, watching as he scooped up water to wash his face.
"About last night," she suddenly said. "How much do you remember?"
Shen Hui nearly dropped the dipper into the trough.
He looked up at Jingming's profile, then answered honestly, "I can't tell what was real and what wasn't. I don't remember much, either."
Jingming gave no indication of her thoughts and didn't look at him again. Her voice was as steady as if she were chanting sutras.
"The mushrooms we ate last night were poisonous."
Shen Hui's hands paused. He had already guessed as much.
"Those mushrooms muddle the mind. Anyone who eats them experiences all kinds of hallucinations."
Jingming continued, "After I returned to my room, I saw a civet sitting on my desk, speaking. I knew at once that something was wrong, so I went straight to find Master."
As Shen Hui splashed water on his face, he asked, "And then?"
"Then Master and I searched all the way from the West Courtyard, rescuing the disciples one by one from their hallucinations."
"How did you rescue them?"
"Talisman Wine," Jingming said flatly.
Shen Hui secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness it hadn't been manure.
Jingming continued, "The first one we found was Jinghui. She had smeared straw and mud all over her face and was combing her hair and putting on makeup in front of a bronze mirror."
Shen Hui nearly choked while rinsing his mouth. I didn't ask, though.
"Then there was Senior Brother. He was plowing the open ground in the East Courtyard with his sword. He'd plowed three furrows and hadn't finished the fourth."
Shen Hui silently dried his face, speechless for a moment.
"Third Junior Brother was sitting in his room, muttering over a stack of rough paper and flipping through it over and over. He said it was his cultivation manual."
Shen Hui almost laughed, so he quickly changed the subject. "What about Fifth Senior Brother?"
"Fifth Junior Brother was easy. He was fast asleep, and nothing could wake him. Master said he probably didn't want to wake up from his dream."
Shen Hui silently thought, What a sin. It was just like his past-life experience had warned him: relying on what he knew from his previous life to identify things in this world would only get people killed.
Especially when it came to food.
Just then, Jingming turned to look at him. "You were the last one we found."
Shen Hui's heart tightened.
"Your delirium was the worst. When we found you, you were lying on the kitchen floor, muttering to yourself. Master gave you Talisman Wine, and then..."
She stopped abruptly, saying nothing more.
Shen Hui waited a moment, then couldn't help asking, "And then what?"
Jingming glanced at him, her look somewhat complicated. "Then you recited a few lines of an incantation and set off a fire."
Shen Hui opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but not knowing what. In the end, all he could manage was a stiff question:
"Master, he..."
Before he could finish, Jingming's lips suddenly curved.
"His beard, eyebrows, and hair were badly singed, but otherwise he wasn't hurt."
Shen Hui's heart leapt into his throat again.
"Then..." he asked cautiously, "Master wasn't angry, was he?"
Jingming didn't answer right away.
She turned around, her gaze settling on the mottled wooden door. Her tone remained as unruffled as ever.
"Master said to go see him once you wake up."
Shen Hui's heart gave another thump.
Jingming seemed to see his unease and, unusually, added a couple of sentences. "Master got up this morning and stared in the mirror for a long time. He didn't attend morning class, either. He's been in his room the whole time."
Shen Hui swallowed. "...What's he doing in there?"
"I don't know." Jingming paused. "Every now and then, I can hear the sound of someone sharpening a knife."
Shen Hui: "..."
Woe is me!
His suspended heart finally gave up the ghost.
Jingming looked at him. There seemed to be a trace of sympathy in her eyes, though Shen Hui might have imagined it. After all, Second Senior Sister was usually quiet and expressionless.
"Be careful."
After advising him, she turned and walked toward the courtyard gate.
At the moon gate, she suddenly stopped and tossed out a cryptic remark:
"That was a very powerful fire."
Only after saying that did she truly walk away without looking back.
Shen Hui stood by the water trough, watching the direction in which she had disappeared, the dripping dipper still clenched in his hand.