《Master, This Poor Disciple Died Again Today》15. The Best Medicine is Bitter
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The pill burned down his throat, all the way into his stomach.
“Meditate, meditate!” Xixing urged him.
Closing his eyes, Hui sat on the spot and crossed his legs. Xixing dropped with him, maintaining a hold on his face, though she kindly released his nose so he could breathe. He focused inward, on the pill.
“Guide it to your qi passageways!”
He reached out with his qi and touched the pill, coaxing it deeper. The pill gave chase, soaking into his qi passageways. Circulating his qi, Hui guided the pill through his passages. The pill coated them and strengthened them, closing off the holes and tears. His qi rioted, but the coating kept it from injuring his passageways further.
Still holding his mouth, Xixing put her hand over his lowest meridian. Hui shied away. Fairy maiden, please be gentle, it’s my first time—
“Open!” she shouted. Forcefully, she shoved into his flesh. A prong of energy punctured his qi pathways and jammed into his meridian. It resisted, then broke open.
Hui screamed through her hand. Acid pain rolled up his spine. Like poison, it sank into his muscles and joints, twisted his qi. Owowow, hurts, hurts!
Rioting qi rushed into the meridian. It swirled there, spinning, and circulated back into his body, slowed. Almost like a pressure-relief valve, the meridian calmed his qi and relieved the force on his qi passageways.
“Alright, good! Again!” She raised her hand a few inches and pressed it into him again.
Hui whimpered. Venerable elder sister, please have mercy.
“Open!”
He tensed. The same pain swirled into him, only worse, somehow. It radiated into his guts, internal organs quivering. The urge to vomit rose up in his stomach, unstoppable. He gripped her hand and pulled it away from his mouth. Doubling over, he puked up a stream of black gunk.
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Hui wiped his mouth. He reached inside himself. His qi swirled quietly now, circulating obediently through his opened meridians. She saved me.
Xixing tutted, a manic grin stretched across her face. “Look at all those impurities! What happened, did you stagnate your qi somehow?”
He gave Xixing a dirty look, which she ignored. “Ah… stagnate my qi? Intentionally, yeah.”
“Intentionally? Are you mad?” Xixing asked.
Reaching to his neck, Hui drew out Zhubi. “This little guy can do it without any drawbacks. I tried to copy him… but I’m missing something. A pill, I think. He generates some kind of… something, that lets him stagnate his qi without side effects.”
Xixing furrowed her brows at him. “No, no, go back. I still don’t understand. Why do you want to stagnate your qi?”
“Consider it a hobby of mine?” Hui asked.
“Weird hobby.”
“Says the girl who tortures men for fun,” he muttered.
“What was that?” Xixing asked.
Hui threw his hands up. “Nothing, nothing!”
She shook her head, then held her hand out. “Alright, I’m curious. Let me take a look.”
“Take… a look?” Hui asked, curling his hand protectively around Zhubi.
She nodded. “I’ve got to cut him open to see what’s inside him, right?”
Zhubi rolled over in Hui’s hand, playing dead. Hui jerked him back and cradled Zhubi against his chest. “It’s in his venom, too!”
Xixing rolled her eyes. “Should’ve said so first.” She turned and rattled around in her drawers again, then handed him a vial covered in a bit of fabric.
“Huh?” Hui asked, taking it.
“Milk him,” Xixing said, nodding at Zhubi.
He stared at her. “What.”
Xixing grabbed Zhubi. Startled, he reared back and bit. Snatching back the vial, Xixing replaced the arm he was striking at with the vial. Zhubi’s fangs sunk into the fabric. Venom sprayed into the vial.
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Satisfied, she handed Zhubi back and peered at the silvery liquid. She swirled it around in the vial, then shrugged. “Give me a few days to analyze it, and I should be able to make a pill for you.”
“Actually… I was wondering if you’d teach me,” Hui asked.
“How to make a new pill from scratch? Sure, if you’ve got five hundred years,” she joked.
“No, I mean… how to, er, turn on a furnace,” Hui clarified.
She blinked at him. He stared back.
“What peak are you from?” Xixing demanded.
“My name is Li Xiang,” he declared, picking the name stitched into the robes.
Xixing burst out laughing. “You really have some strange hobbies.”
“W-what?” Hui asked.
“What is your name, anyways? Your real name, or I’ll charge you double,” Xixing threatened.
Hui’s eyes widened. Oh shit, she’s gonna charge me? I don’t have any money! “Uh… Chang Bolin.”
“Double it is,” Xixing muttered to herself.
“Wait! Wait, wait, wait. Sorry, it’s just… I, um…” Hui took a deep breath. “I’m Weiheng Hui, okay?”
Her smile brightened. “I thought so! So this is Weiheng Wu’s disciple?”
“In the flesh.” Hui gestured at himself, then bowed.
“Mmm. Not as cute as I expected.”
“Huh?” Hui asked.
Xixing waved him down. “So, about payment…”
“Can I pay in materials?” Hui asked abruptly.
Xixing narrowed her eyes at him. “What kind of materials?”
“I… don’t know.”
She squinted harder.
“I don’t know right now, but I’ll get right back to you, okay? I don’t have any money anyways, this is all I can offer. It was an emergency, you understand, an emergency!”
Xixing narrowed her eyes even harder, so narrow he could barely see them. “You… do know inheriting disciples get a hefty stipend from the sect, right?”
“I—what?” Hui stumbled back, shocked.
She nodded. “Next time you have a moment, go up Starbound Peak to the administrative building. They’ll hand out your stipend. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll take your materials, but you aren’t broke. If your materials are bad, I’ll happily take your money.”
“Alright, deal,” Hui said, nodding. I can’t get to Starbound Peak right now, so if the materials aren’t good, I’ll just hide on my master’s peak.
She patted him on the shoulder. “Good, good. And if you stiff me…” She clawed her hand again.
“I’ll pay! I promise!” Before Xixing could open any more of his meridians, Hui skittered out of her shop and ran down the road.
“I’ll be waiting!” Xixing called after him, waving.
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Decompose!
Dear diary. When you read stories about some people missing and returning after years of absence claiming they were living in another world, your first reaction is to scoff and dismiss a story as a tall tale, right? I know I did. All the time. Until it happened to me and I no longer did. That day was today. Some god of thunder smote me. If it were Chris Hemsworth, I wouldn't mind but it was some barbaric Hitite god that abaondned Earth some four millennia ago. Yes, what can I say? I love the seventh art. I have more hours watching movies than any other activity, including sleep. What? Do you think I'm exaggerating? Maybe I am. I'll really miss hollywood the most. And my biggest regret is that I never got to visit the holy city of cinema. I did not come to another world to be a hero even though there was hints that they hoped I'd save it. I did not come with overpowered abilities able to, dunno, leap tall castles in a single bound, faster than a speeding crossbow bolt, be more powerful than a eight-horse carriage, the bounds. No. After the asshole god that murdered me brought me to his world, he gave me some boons from his discount bin and "The Power of my Soul (tm)". Forgive my french, I hope you understand I am rather upset at dying. And he somehow decided that my power is to recycle stuff. How awesome is that? Not much at first, I must admit. At least I got all my camping stuff and equipment with me. There's no lycra in the other world. I'll make it someday, but that day is not today. So here I am. In another world, in the middle of nowhere. I'm no heroine. As the song goes, I'm your basic average girl. And I'm assumed to be here to save the world. But almost everything can stop me, because I'm not named Kim. Wish me luck, diary. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ This novel is going have the following features: slow-paced slice-of-life No GameLit / LitRPG elements. Movie references. Sandra likes the seventh art. Journal / diary style crafting (includes chemistry, engineering and metallurgy) low magic technological advancement (for Sandra, at least. She is not against sharing though) personal relations clash of perception between the modern and ancient customs. bits of tension, fighting, and plot here and there. I won't repeat myself though. Once she crafts a good batch of soap, for example, she'll just note, "I crafted soap again." Once it is estabilished how she obtains compound X, compound X2 that is obtainable from the same process will also just be mentioned. I'll try to be as realistic as I can with the crafting, chemistry, and technology. Cover: Public Domain Image by StockSnap from Pixabay. No attribution required but we do it anyway.
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