#Chapter 8: Truly... Beyond Saving
Ever since Li Yuezhou had witnessed Lu Zhaoye’s swordsmanship, a spark of interest had been ignited in his mind. He had been pestering the older youth with endless questions, and oddly enough, the more he gabbled on, the more fluent his speech became.
It was Lu Zhaoye who, with his sharp perception, noticed that Li Yuezhou's voice had grown slightly raspy. Only then did he put a firm stop to that incessantly questioning mouth.
"Your health is fragile. You certainly can't practice martial arts right now," Lu Zhaoye said. "Once you’ve fully recovered, perhaps you can give it a try."
In truth, Lu Zhaoye usually disliked having someone buzzing in his ear. He was naturally quiet and reserved, and after his father’s passing, the blow had driven him even further into his shell, making him reclusive and taciturn.
It was only over the past few years, as Li Xiaolian began intending to hand over some of the Martial Arts Alliance's affairs to him, that he had started showing his face more often, becoming a familiar presence to most people.
Li Yuezhou’s brow drooped, and he looked at Lu Zhaoye with a pitiful, puppy-dog expression. However, he quickly managed to cheer himself up.
Even if his body did get better, he figured that given his lazy nature, he probably wouldn't have the discipline to stick with martial arts training anyway.
Besides, Lu Zhaoye was always by his side. Wouldn't it be just as good to have the older youth perform his swordplay for him whenever he wanted to watch?
---
By the end of the second day of the tournament, only the final match remained.
The third round was to be fought against a ten-man team from the Martial Arts Alliance. Everyone knew in their hearts that they stood little chance against Lu Zhaoye, but they were bound to give it their absolute best effort.
Late into the night, Li Yuezhou woke with a sudden start from his slumber. Pressing a hand against his chest, he panted softly. It had been a long time since he had felt that suffocating, brush-with-death sensation from his dream, and it left him feeling profoundly unsettled.
After sitting against the headboard for a while, he noticed the bright, clear moonlight streaming in from outside. Deciding he might as well get up, he threw on an outer robe and pushed open his chamber door.
A servant boy waiting nearby caught the movement and poked his head in. Seeing Li Yuezhou walking out on his own, the servant gasped in fright and hurried over. "Young Master, why are you up at this hour?"
"Go back and rest. Don't worry about me, I'm just going to sit for a bit."
Li Yuezhou waved his hand, dismissing the servant who kept looking back reluctantly as he trundled off to bed. Left alone, Li Yuezhou looked up at the full, round moon.
Without realizing it, he had been in this world for over a month now. His body was significantly stronger than it had been at the beginning, and most importantly, he hadn't encountered any more of those bizarre, inexplicably unlucky incidents.
Because of this, he found himself placing a bit more faith in the words of the soul-loss mystic.
Closing his eyes as if resting, Li Yuezhou was actually flipping through a book within his mind.
This book was terribly sparse on details. Even though Li Xiaolian was the protagonist, a vast amount of the plot was glossed over carelessly.
As Li Yuezhou silently criticized the narrative while flipping through the mental pages, he suddenly froze.
When he had looked through the book just a few days ago, these words definitely hadn't been there...
Yet now, several new pages had materialized out of thin air. Li Yuezhou scanned through them hastily, discovering to his shock that they detailed events that were supposed to happen during the Grand Martial Arts Tournament!
Previously, the book had dedicated a mere two chapters to the assembly, barely ten thousand words in total. It had simply outlined the tournament regulations, the group stages, and concluded with Lu Zhaoye claiming the championship and Li Xiaolian adopting him as his foster son.
But now, the text provided a meticulous account: on the final day of the assembly, a member of a Demonic Cult, possessing a unique and sinister cultivation technique, would be unable to control his impulses in the dead of night. He would stealthily seek out a lone, vulnerable-looking woman to defile her, intending to drain her internal energy for his own use.
However, the woman would prove to be fiercely unyielding. Her piercing shriek would awaken everyone in the vicinity, forcing the demonic cultivator to flee in haste and sparking a relentless manhunt by the righteous sects.
This...
Li Yuezhou was utterly astonished. How could this segment have appeared out of nowhere? Could it be... an incredible theory formed in his mind. Could this book be correcting and altering itself because of his involvement? Or rather, did his presence cause the book’s contents to become more detailed? If that was the case, did it also mean he could eventually save his father?
Li Yuezhou’s delicate brows furrowed. A gentle breeze caught the stray hairs at his temples, tangling them against the porch pillars. The sudden revelation banished any lingering drowsiness.
Reaching out to gather his outer robe and hair, he let out a soft sneeze before retreating back into the warmth of his room.
For now, he could only wait until tomorrow's match concluded to see if the events foretold in this book would ring true.
---
The consequence of rising in the middle of the night to bask in the chilly moonlight was that by morning, Li Yuezhou had come down with a fever.
Lu Zhaoye's expression was grim, his eyes flashing with displeasure as he glared at the servants. It was left to the patient lying in bed to weakly plead on their behalf.
"Brother... it has nothing... to do with them. It was me... I wanted to see... the moon last night."
Lu Zhaoye took a deep breath, turning to tuck the blanket securely back around him. Looking down at the pale face flushed bright red with fever, he saw how frail and exhausted the boy looked.
Those wide eyes held a glassy sheen, whether from tears or the fever, he couldn't tell, and the sight sent a sudden surge of helpless frustration tightening in his chest.
"Your health hasn't even fully recovered, yet you dared to go out in the middle of the night to catch a chill?"
Li Yuezhou managed a weak, fleeting smile, repeating himself: "Brother, don't punish... them."
"Fine. I won't punish them, rest assured."
Lu Zhaoye was truly at his wit's end. How did the boy still have the peace of mind to worry about others at a time like this?
Seeing him give his word, and knowing that Lu Zhaoye never went back on his promises, Li Yuezhou closed his eyes with relief and drifted back to sleep.
Around midday, Li Xiaolian rushed back from the tournament grounds, his face equally dark. He turned to Lu Zhaoye and demanded, "How did he suddenly develop a fever?"
"Yuezhou said he went out to watch the moon and caught the night chill."
Li Xiaolian choked on his words, shaking his head in sheer helplessness. "This child!"
"Please don't worry, Godfather. He has already taken his medicine and fallen asleep," Lu Zhaoye comforted him.
Li Xiaolian stepped inside to cast a brief glance at the sleeping Li Yuezhou before turning to leave, leaving a parting instruction: "You have a match today. Don't forget."
The sleeping Li Yuezhou was incredibly quiet. Of course, he wasn't particularly loud when awake either, but with his eyes closed, that vivid, spirited gaze was hidden, making him look somewhat lacking in vitality.
Lu Zhaoye had never expected Li Yuezhou’s true personality to turn out like this.
He was a bit spoiled, a bit lively, and possessed a streak of quiet rebellion.
Reflecting on how the boy had spent the first eighteen years of his life in a vacant, mindless stupor, Lu Zhaoye couldn't help but feel a pang of ache in his heart.
If only he had been born a normal child from the very start, how wonderful that would have been.
"Hot..."
Li Yuezhou murmured in his sleep. Lu Zhaoye pulled the blanket down slightly, but didn't dare lower it too much, terrified of worsening the illness.
"Take good care of the Young Master. If there is the slightest discomfort, immediately summon Valley Master Hua or my godfather."
"Yes, Young Master."
The servants bowed their heads. Lu Zhaoye picked up his sword and departed in a hurry, though a sense of regret lingered in his mind.
It seemed the boy wouldn't be able to watch his match today.
---
Even in sleep, Li Yuezhou remained restless, his mind weighed down by something he couldn't quite recall.
He turned the thoughts over and over, tracing them from beginning to end, until it finally struck him, he was supposed to watch Lu Zhaoye's match!
Comments Box