Master, This Poor Disciple Died Again Today

Hui circulated his qi deliberately, killing it to the level of someone who’d just stepped onto the first stage of Qi Gathering. With this, the illusory array should take me more lightly, if there’s something intelligent controlling it. I have no evidence one way or another, but it’s good to take precautions.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Go on, boy!”

Bowing, Hui went. As he walked, servants glared at him, muttering under their breath. In the periphery of his vision, they changed from servants into pale-faced demons, faces twisted in hideous, shadowy grins.

“Those dreams he has…”

“So strange. Is he really human? Maybe he’s a demon.”

“Doesn’t he know he’s only hurting the lord? Every time he sees the boy, he sees his dead wife. But the boy’s insane!”

“If only he’d keep his mouth shut about those dreams!”

“They aren’t dreams. They’re real,” the boy muttered under his breath, speaking with Hui’s mouth.

Around the back, another kid leaped at him. Younger by a year or two, this boy’s cheeks gleamed with life, his limbs pudgy. He shoved Hui down and laughed, spittle flying in his face. Used to it, Hui laid there, but the boy whose body he was in fought back, struggling under the kid.

A pudgy fist landed on his cheek. Pain burst down Hui’s cheekbones. The healthy boy smirked, leaning out of the way of the skinny boy’s feeble scratches and swipes. “Punch me, try it! Don’t you know what father will do once he sees a mark on my skin? Don’t you remember last time?”

At that, the skinny boy joined Hui in lying there lifelessly. Hui nodded. Ah, see? Play dead, play dead. They don’t hit as hard if you don’t fight back! It’s not interesting.

…Usually, anyways. The bitter memory of his limp body getting kicked around by Chang Bolin replayed in his head, and Hui let out a heavy sigh.

Finally, the younger boy climbed off him. Turning his head, he spat derisively at the boy. “That’s what you get! Scum.”

All these people and their uncreative insults. Hui shook his head.

The younger boy scurried off. A few minutes passed, and the skinny boy sat up. He rubbed his face and sniffled, then climbed to his feet and stumbled off.

Stuck in the kid’s body, unable to do much, Hui watched him go about his day. No matter what he did, he was met with anger and derision. As he walked, the servants would whisper. If he sat, they’d find a chamber pot for him to clean. If he ate, they’d steal the most of his meal. The servants abused him, his sibling abused him, even the donkeys bit when he got too close. Despairing, Hui sighed at the kid. At least animals like me. What did this kid do in a previous life to get this kind of treatment?

In summary, the kid was the first son of the lord here. Wife dies, lord remarries, next wife bullies the kid. And it looks like this time everyone gets in on it. So, if I had to guess, the real villain is…

Crouching in a corner, the kid hunkered over some rice. Stuffing it into his mouth with his bare hands, he looked around nervously, ready to run.

Hui nodded approvingly. Protect your food. Food is life!

“Excuse me, why is there trash in my courtyard?”

“Mistress, my apologies!” A servant rushed over. She shooed the boy out of the corner. He stood abruptly, spilling rice out of his bowl.

Frowning, Hui pursed his lips. That servant! The ultimate rudeness!

Before the servant could rush the boy out of sight, the woman raised a hand. Once attractive, her beauty had faded with age. An overly thick perfume clung to her body. Her robes flowed with every step, made of the finest silk. She gestured the boy closer.

Hesitant, the boy clung tight to his bowl of rice. All at once, he stooped and shoveled the rice into his mouth, then stepped forward, chewing, rice stuck to his cheek.

She lowered her eyes, long lashes hiding her dark eyes. A smile touched her lips, but not the rest of her face. “Do you still have those dreams?”

“They aren’t dreams. They’re real,” the boy muttered stubbornly.

“Gleaming silver towers. Strange metal shuttles. Immortals piling into steel birds to fly. Not a dream? Do you think you were an immortal in a past life?” She loomed over the boy, that strange smile on her lips.

The boy backed away. He clutched tighter to his bowl. “It’s not that strange. Immortals already fly. They already live in mountains. It’s not—”

Her hand flashed out. Faster than the boy could see, it whipped his cheek. “Shut your mouth. There’s rumors about our family thanks to you. What if my children end up as outcasts because of your stupid dreams?”

He narrowed his eyes at the ground, but said nothing.

“You should’ve died with your mother.”

The boy screamed and ran at the woman, hands clawed. A servant rushed in and held him back before he could lay a hand on the woman. “Apologies, apologies…”

Bored, Hui circulated his qi a little faster, drawing in the qi around him. The death qi moved sluggishly, distant, but slowly stretched out to reach him. He drew it in for lack of anything else to do. I’m stuck to this boy. I can’t do anything to interfere. What’s the point of this illusion?

Hmm, wait. He’s getting beaten… ah! Again! Hui blinked dully, watching the servant beat the boy. Forced to take the place of the boy, it felt as if he was the one bent over the servant’s knee and spanked. The pain sparked on his butt, but very used to getting beaten, the whole affair barely bothered him. He put a hand on his chin, thoughtful. Maybe… let me think. Let’s say I was Lan Taijian, some high-and-mighty cultivator who’s never been stomped in the dirt. If Lan Taijian was treated like this, he’d get so angry and humiliated… I wonder if that’s what the illusion wants? Once he gets angry and humiliated, maybe he lashes out, uses his qi… and then… maybe that feeds the illusion? Or maybe it eats people who get too drawn into it?

Mmm, I’ve already lived one lifetime of this. I don’t need to live another. Let’s see if I can break the illusion.

Abruptly, Hui’s arm moved away from his chin. The servant kicked the boy away, and Hui belatedly realized he briefly had control of the boy’s movements. Eh, wait. Are there… is this like a quick-time event? When things become too unjust, I can act?

I wonder… is that the illusion’s trap? Allowing you to act but only at specific moments. Hmm…

The boy continued his life. He went to sleep in the stables, shivering pitifully on a pile of hay. Night passed in a blink, and he stood, then jumped away, narrowly avoiding a kick from the donkey. At that, he paused, and Hui took a step backward. The donkey bared its teeth at him, almost laughing at him, daring him to lash out.

The second Hui moved, qi flowed out of his body. All around him, the illusion became more solid. Shadows and details filled in. The servants’ faces failed to shift when they passed the corners of his vision.

Hui froze, refusing to act. The qi stopped flowing out of him, and a second later, the boy took over again, living out his life. Aware of the qi drain now, Hui felt it continuously drain out of his body, though at a lower rate than when he’d moved.

Now I understand. Someone drawn into the illusion is forced to live out the boy’s life. If they act to defend themselves or prevent harm to the boy, the illusion drains their qi. An ordinary cultivator with high pride would never be able to withstand this humiliation and degradation.

Luckily, I’m not a regular cultivator! I have no pride, no shame! Although the boy’s life is pitiful, it’s only an illusion. Even if I act, it changes nothing about what happened to the boy. Therefore, the right choice is to not act! Instead… if I allow the boy to autopilot his life, then I can use my time figuring out how to break the illusion!

So decided, Hui retreated into his head. Mentally, he assumed the lotus position and began to circulate his qi cautiously. He watched the qi around him, searching for any sign of a change from his actions.

Nothing happened. The qi drain continued, but at a low enough level that Hui’s qi would take days to run out. Hopefully I’ll figure out the illusion before then.

That boy’s dreams. Silver towers, strange shuttles, metal birds. Doesn’t that sound suspiciously like Earth?

If he was dreaming of Earth… is he from Earth, like me? Another transmigrator? But… I came here with all my memories. I didn’t dream of Earth, I remembered it. And the way the woman described it… maybe the boy chose words that these people would understand, but wouldn’t he likely call them cars and airplanes, not shuttles and metal birds? Even by accident, even if he wanted to use words they’d understand. The second wife wouldn’t let him off, using strange words like that… it’s almost like he’s an ordinary person from this world, who somehow managed to dream of Earth.

What is the connection between this world and Earth?

Taking a deep breath, Hui put the matter out of his mind. First, I need to break out of this illusion. Then I can figure out what’s going on with this boy!