Chapter 1: – Youth, Put Down That Cup of Tea!

Lin Chuyun transmigrated. It happened fast.

One second, he’d just taken the milk tea a shop clerk handed him. The next, the scene jarringly switched. The milk tea in his hand became a small, exquisite teacup, and the clerk turned into a middle-aged man in gray robes.

Lin Chuyun looked dazedly at the teacup, then at the man before him.

What’s going on?

“Immortal Lord, the tea is prepared,” the man said, bending slightly, though his tone wasn’t respectful. “Please hurry.”

Hurry for what?

Lin Chuyun looked at the cup, baffled. Tea leaves swirled inside; it seemed normal enough.

He glanced down at himself: black hair, white robes without a single pattern. The hem puddled on the ground but remained spotless.

Seeing Lin Chuyun’s silence, the man thought he was balking and frowned, urging him again impatiently, voice low.

Still disoriented, Lin Chuyun caught only that the original owner was supposed to deliver this tea to his disciple. The man gave no reason.

Steadying himself, Lin Chuyun looked around.

He was in a bamboo grove. Looking back along the path, he could see a bamboo hut in the distance—likely where that disciple lived.

Lin Chuyun took the moment to ponder life’s three big questions.

Who am I? Unknown.

Where am I? Unknown.

What am I doing? This one he knew: delivering tea.

His silence made the man increasingly impatient. “Immortal Lord, don’t forget: Bai Linghan is waiting for your good news.”

And who the heck is Bai Linghan?!

Lin Chuyun felt like he was turning into a living question mark. But seeing the man’s darkening face, he didn’t dare dawdle and could only nod.

The man’s eyes flickered with contempt. Just as he thought—bring up Bai Linghan, and Lin Chuyun would do anything. He stepped back and gave a perfunctory bow. “Immortal Lord, please.”

Lin Chuyun glanced at him, then turned and walked toward the hut, teacup in hand. Halfway there, he stole a look back.

The man hadn’t left. He was standing at the bend, watching.

His plan to ditch failed. Lin Chuyun reached the hut and knocked lightly.

A voice answered from inside, cold as profound ice settling in his heart. “Who?”

Lin Chuyun shivered, his hand trembling. He had no clue who he was; how should he answer?

After a pause, he coughed lightly and said vaguely, “Your teacher.”

At the sound of his voice, an eerie silence fell. Then footsteps slowly approached, stopping behind the door.

Lin Chuyun’s heart raced. One hand held the cup; the other clenched behind his back. He watched as the door slowly opened.

To his surprise, behind the door was a strikingly handsome youth in cyan robes.

The youth, around fifteen or sixteen, had long hair loosely tied back with a cloth ribbon. His features still held a trace of youthful softness. He smiled, showing no surprise at seeing Lin Chuyun—clearly, he recognized the original owner.

“Shizun.” The youth bowed respectfully.

Lin Chuyun’s mouth twitched. Stifling the urge to dodge, he replied flatly, “Mm.”

The youth seemed long accustomed to this attitude and wasn’t suspicious. His eyes fell on the teacup, narrowing slightly, but he didn’t ask questions. He merely stepped aside.

Inside the hut, Lin Chuyun glanced back. The gray-robed man had disappeared.

“Shizun?” The youth had closed the door and noticed Lin Chuyun staring outside blankly. He raised an eyebrow. “Is something wrong?”

Lin Chuyun snapped back and shook his head, looking around the room.

It was small, easily taken in at a glance. Aside from a table and chairs in the middle, and a bed on the other side, there was almost nothing else.

From this room, Lin Chuyun could see only one thing.

Poverty.

Looking closer, the youth’s clothes weren’t good either. His cyan robes were worn so long the cuffs were pale. His waist was bare—no jade pendant.

Lin Chuyun frowned. This youth was the original owner’s disciple. How could the master look like a transcendent immortal while the disciple looked so destitute?

Did the original owner mistreat his disciple?

No sooner had he thought this than he looked down at himself and realized he wasn’t much better off.

His own waist was empty, his hair tie frayed to near-breaking. The only difference: his robes seemed self-cleaning, so they hadn’t faded.

Lin Chuyun: “…”

This Immortal Lord is this broke?!

Lin Chuyun had never been this poor in his life; he was genuinely stunned.

After closing the door, the youth had stood waiting before Lin Chuyun. But after a long wait, Lin Chuyun hadn’t spoken; he just kept looking at him.

The youth’s gaze darkened momentarily, but then he looked up, eyes curving, as if he was close to his master. “Did Shizun come to find this disciple for a reason?”

Lin Chuyun snapped out of it, making a somewhat guilty sound of acknowledgment.

He had no idea why the original owner wanted to give his disciple tea. He didn’t know how to start, so he stood awkwardly, teacup in hand.

Luckily, the youth didn’t rush him, just stood obediently to the side.

Lin Chuyun relaxed a little, thinking it over.

He knew nothing about this body’s identity. Any wrong word could raise suspicion. From how the gray-robed man and the youth treated him, the original owner seemed to be a cold, aloof type. Maybe… he should just hand over the tea without a word?

As he pondered, his eyes fell on the youth’s face.

Maybe it was the angle, but he suddenly noticed the youth’s pupils were a very pale color, like delicate glass marbles. When that gaze landed on him, for just a moment, it was cold, as if looking at a dead man.

But instantly, the youth smiled obediently again, the chill gone.

Focusing on just getting the tea delivered and getting out, Lin Chuyun didn’t think much of it. Deciding his plan was fine, he simply handed the cup over.

As expected, the youth didn’t question it, reaching out respectfully.

“Thank you, Shizun.” The youth smiled gently, his eyes curving as he glanced at Lin Chuyun.

Lin Chuyun felt a strange chill down his back.

The youth accepted the cup but didn’t drink, just stroked the teacup gently with his fingertip. Lin Chuyun didn’t care. The tea was delivered. Whether he drank it wasn’t his problem.

Thinking this, Lin Chuyun turned to leave.

“Shizun?” The youth’s voice stopped him from behind.

His escape failed again. Facing away, Lin Chuyun rolled his eyes, forced a stern expression, and turned back. “What is it?”

The youth seemed puzzled. “Does Shizun not need to watch this disciple drink it?”

Lin Chuyun was speechless.

What exactly was this tea? The middle-aged man had to watch him bring it, and now he had to watch the youth drink it?

Lin Chuyun’s mind raced, and he quickly found an excuse. “Your teacher trusts you, naturally.”

Flattery never fails. Praising him should be fine.

He thought he was clever. But the moment he finished, the air around him turned freezing, as if the temperature had plummeted degrees, making him shiver.

The youth’s expression darkened too, his pale pupils growing even more translucent.

Lin Chuyun scrambled two steps back, mentally weeping. Who does that? Mood swings without any warning?!

Sunlight from the window hit the youth’s face, creating stark light and shadow. In the interplay, Lin Chuyun thought he saw the shadows on the youth’s face move. But when he looked again, they were just ordinary shadows.

Did I imagine that…?

Lin Chuyun muttered internally, but with the youth suddenly hostile, he didn’t dare just walk away.

So why was he angry? Was it because he wasn’t being supervised, so he felt neglected?

If that’s the case…

“Then your teacher will watch you drink,” Lin Chuyun said.

There. Problem solved. He was confident.

Sure enough, though the temperature didn’t rise, the youth’s expression softened, even holding a faint smile. Though that smile somehow made Lin Chuyun feel even colder inside.

“Shizun, don’t worry. Xixing will drink… this spirit tea,” the youth said, smiling.

Lin Chuyun wanted to say he wasn’t worried, and the youth could take his time. But the name caught his attention entirely. For some reason, it sounded incredibly familiar.

Like he’d seen it… somewhere before?

Lin Chuyun frowned, racking his brain. Instinct told him this name was vital. If he didn’t remember, something terrible might happen.

Where had he heard it?

Xixing… Xixing… Feng Xixing…?!

Wait—

Feng Xixing?!!!

Lin Chuyun’s eyes bulged in shock, his mind blown.

Wasn’t that the villain’s name in the book he read last night?!

Actually, calling him a villain was a stretch. The book’s characters only fell into three categories: the main love interest, the men who loved the main love interest, and… Feng Xixing.

Yes, Feng Xixing was the only one who didn’t fall for the universally-adored love interest. So the author made him the villain.

Incredibly childish reasoning.

And the book’s description of Feng Xixing was sparse. It only said he was originally a disciple of Star Point Sect, poisoned and his cultivation crippled, ultimately forcing him to fall into the devil path.

Lin Chuyun vaguely remembered that the one who poisoned Feng Xixing was his master, Immortal Lord Lin. And the poison was supposedly in…

He hadn’t finished the thought when he saw the youth raising the cup. The tea swirled gently, about to touch his lips.

Lin Chuyun’s pupils constricted violently. He lunged forward, seizing the cup’s side with a death grip, knuckles turning white.

The poison was in the spirit tea!!!

The youth’s motion stopped. He slowly looked up, his beautiful pale pupils fixing on Lin Chuyun. His voice lost its earlier respect, even carrying a hint of mockery. “Shizun?”

Too panicked to notice the shift, Lin Chuyun was still in shock from his realization. His voice was faint, like he’d been struck badly. “…Feng Xixing?”

The youth’s eyes swept over him, raising an eyebrow slightly. “If Shizun has something to say, it can wait until after this disciple drinks the spirit tea.”

The words were a clear admission.

You CAN’T! If you drink it, it’s over!

Lin Chuyun abruptly snatched the cup from Feng Xixing’s hands and stumbled backward with it. The cup wasn’t ordinary; despite all the shaking, not a drop spilled.

Feng Xixing frowned, looking at Lin Chuyun with evident impatience.

“What does Shizun mean by this?”

Lin Chuyun was still reeling. Seeing Feng Xixing step forward, he instinctively thought the youth was trying to snatch it back. In his flustered state, his mind went blank. He simply raised the cup.

And downed it all.

Every last drop.

Gone.

Not a drop left for Feng Xixing.

Feng Xixing froze.

Lin Chuyun, seeing him stop, breathed a sigh of relief, though he felt like he’d forgotten something crucial. Come to think of it, why did Feng Xixing suddenly seem to be getting bigger…?

Before he could think further, his vision went black, and he collapsed.