Chapter Text
Luo Mei was fucking pissed.
The last update of The Immortal Master’s Way was garbage. Piss poor garbage that barely had any right to be called writing. It was, in his illustrious opinion, a stain upon the entirety of China’s vast history of literature. To have the story’s original language be Chinese was a crime against the very characters it was written in.
The most minor of infractions was the story’s various plot holes, so deep and wide that if one gazed into them they would be immediately hit with vertigo and terror. And the ending of the story! This piss poor excuse for a rushed ending of a story! But to fully understand the depths of anger this story wrought in the average reader, a quick recap was needed.
The main character himself had been magnificent. Shen Jiu was the most complex protagonist Luo Mei had ever seen in the xianxia genre. A man who hated the world yet strived to succeed in it, he was not overly strong or brave or even stunningly charismatic. Instead, he was unparalleled in his cleverness and had an iron will forged through sheer spite. A former slave who bitterly clawed his way up a cultivation peak until he reached the position of a peak lord, originally he was both the protagonist and antagonist of the plot. Hundreds of chapters had been dedicated to Jiu’s backstory and the odd inner workings of his mind. Luo Mei had stuck with the story for years now, devouring every update he could get his hands on.
However, at some points things began to drag. The plot didn’t seem to have any true ending in mind. Character arcs were going nowhere. By all means, Luo Mei should have been fatigued by such a long novel and dropped it.
The only thing that kept Luo Mei going, the tenuously thin thread that kept him linked to this crime against humanity, was a side character. Shen Yuan, known as Shen Shi when he was younger, was Shen Jiu’s twin. They had grown up alongside each other with Yue Qi in loco parentis up until the Qiu household arc, where Yue Qi had fucked off somewhere to become a cultivator. This was the first plot point that was dropped. No one ever figured out where Yue Qi had gone for the years he had cultivated, but he didn't appear again until chapter one hundred, where all of a sudden he was a powerful cultivator with a boatload of guilt to carry. No explanation! None whatsoever!
And then, soon after Qi-ge had left, Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu were also separated. This time it was less by choice. Shen Yuan had been sold for cheap to a group of traveling merchants who needed an extra hand on the road. Apparently his weak constitution and the way the twins constantly had each other’s backs hindered their masters. Years later, Shen Shi miraculously reappeared at the Qiu household with Wu Yanzi in tow. A quick chat with Shen Jiu about escape from servitude eventually turned into a case of arson and mass murder, at which point both twins fled with an enthusiastic new “master."
Afterward, not a word was passed between the twins about their time as slaves. There was complete radio silence about their pasts as they began to build their relationships anew, seemingly founded on a mutual worry over Yue Qi’s apparent death. After all, he had never come back for them, so obviously he must be six feet under and restrained. Or so they thought.
Lo and behold, a few months after the twins had managed to free themselves, Yue Qi had arrived to free them! Surprise! And then the two had to save their Qi-ge’s ass by driving a few swords into Wu Yanzi. They were then were whisked off to Cang Qiong peak, where they spent a heartwarming stretch of chapters bickering and cultivating together as disciples until they had been simultaneously named peak lords. Shen Jiu had become Shen Qingqiu and Shen Shi had become Shen Yuan.
Shen Yuan, shizun, sweet, handsome, lazy, snarky, elegant, soft-spoken shizun, was the light of Luo Mei’s life. He followed this side character like it was his job. The man had body pillows stacked up on his closet and bed and posters hung up on the wall with the immortal calmly peeking out from above his fan. Fanfictions were saved on his phone and he regularly skimmed the inhumanly fast updates for any sign of his favorite cultivator. Needless to say, Luo Mei was a die-hard fan.
And then Shen Yuan died. Run through with a sword by some vengeance bent half-demon bastard who wanted to get back at his other master, Shen Jiu. It was some trite dispute dragged back from at least a hundred chapters ago, where Shen Jiu had pushed the little beast into an abyss during the immortal cultivator’s conference. In all honesty, Luo Mei hadn’t been paying much attention at that point. He had been admiring the scene of Shen Yuan glistening with sweat as he twirled in the air, lightly flicking a fan imbued with spiritual energy in a deadly dance that tore through crowds of demons.
In the midst of battle, Shen Yuan had failed to notice Shen Jiu striking at Luo Binghe until it was too late, and so Luo Mei had also failed to pay much attention to the plot point, skimming over the suffering of yet another throw-away character with glazed eyes. Luo Binghe fell, Shen Jiu laughed, Shen Yuan grew adorably angry and scolded his twin brother, and then the scene ended with no apparent reason or satisfying conclusion.
Except apparently, that trash wasn’t a throw-away character. Except apparently, that scum villain which had been a barely-there white lotus for about six chapters was enough to get rid of his beloved shizun. The cultivator that Luo Mei would happily die for any day was just thrown aside like every other side character despite being around consistently since chapter one, serving as a friend and confidante to the protagonist. And his death scene wasn’t even that impressive! It was just a cowardly sword in the back, much to the surprise of both Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu. Then the whole chapter time skipped just so the audience could read all about how much Shen Jiu had mourned the loss of his twin, vowing to hunt Binghe down and kill him like the dog he was. No funeral or any sort of closure for the readers and, more importantly, Luo Mei.
But the story went on and Luo Mei followed it. He felt a strong kinship with Shen Jiu, both of them mourning the death of Shen Yuan throughout the remnants of the novel as it managed to stretch on for another few hundred chapters more. As Shen Jiu sneered at his newly blackened reputation-- courtesy of Luo Binghe and all his past enemies emerging from the woodworks-- Luo Mei stood in solidarity. As Shen Jiu watched the villain suck away everything he loved-- his title, his disciples, the fellow peak lords’ trust, even Yue Qingyuan-- Luo Mei kept reading. He was absolutely sure that someday he’d see an epic revenge played out and he could watch in satisfaction with a bowl of popcorn as Shen Jiu absolutely wrecked the villain and came out on top, victorious. After all, that was Shen Jiu’s trademark and his most attractive feature. His ability to play out revenge fantasies and come out better for it.
And it was clear the author was beginning to fatigue. His updates began slowing down, his writing got sloppier, Shen Jiu’s complex characterization began to crumble, but Luo Mei held on to his faith. He desperately clutched to the idea of a future where he could see his precious Shen Yuan avenged and his twin, Shen Jiu, eventually living a full and peaceful life. That little wisp of flickering hope was held right up to the point where it shattered with Yue Qingyuan’s sword and Shen Jiu’s heart as the immortal cultivator and proud protagonist hung suspended from the ceiling as a human stick. The previously unbeatable protagonist's vision faded as black as the text proclaiming a proud “The End” of The Immortal Master’s Way. That’s it. Closed curtains. No mention of Shen Yuan’s hinted tragic past, nor closure for Luo Binghe’s apparent demonic heritage, nor for thousands of other lost plot points. And the final author’s note?
“Sorry guys, got bored. I’m wrapping this up here, hope you enjoyed the story. It’s not the ending I planned, but it’s good enough.”
Good enough? Good enough???!!! There was nothing good about this! The author could spit out thousands of words to describe the beautiful green eyes of Shen Jiu and every detail of his suffering, but it couldn’t spare a couple of words in order to give anyone a happy ending?
So yeah, Luo Mei was pissed.
And he wanted to let the author, fucking Icicle Shooting Towards Sky, know exactly what he thought. Luo Mei’s fingers flew across his keyboard, almost a blur, a tornado of pure, unadulterated rage. Pages of criticisms, almost enough to give the web novel a satisfying conclusion, were written. Luo Mei didn’t even reread his comment for typos before he slammed the enter key on his board.
Realizing his anger hadn’t subsided in the slightest, Luo Mei sighed as he dropped his head into his hands. His fingers itched for a cigarette. It was a bad habit he had dropped a while ago, but some whispering voice in the back of his head felt this was the right occasion for a calming smoke. Groaning as he shook out his numb legs, he hoisted himself up and lurched to the end of his apartment hallway and outside. The young university student was so intent on his destination and blinding rage that he barely even glanced down the road before stepping off the curb and down the crosswalk.
Skidding tires that sounded like a hoarse scream pierced Mei’s consciousness before he found himself flung ten feet in the air, barely aware of the sound of crunching both coming below and from him. At the end of his arc, good old gravity took its malicious course. The ground rushed towards him.
Then everything went dark.
~~~
Ah. Mei had read stories like this before. Transmigration wasn’t really his thing. He never really liked reading stories about modern protagonists in the past. Usually they were fun comedies void of the political intrigue and grand plots he usually liked to read about. Not really his cup of tea.
Yet here he was. Luo Mei lay on the sun-speckled ground, gazing up at the hole-riddled ceiling above him. His whole body ached, and he was at least fifty percent sure he had a broken rib. Not that he could tell by bruising, because apparently his whole body was black and blue at the moment. And swollen. Like an overripe plum. The only mildly soothing thing in the vicinity was a cool hand that lay over his face, but Luo Mei was too sore to turn and look at who it belonged to.
A neon blue pop up screen flashed mere inches from his face and Mei winced, squinting at the sudden bright light. It seemed to be emitting from the jade Guanyin that hung from a thick red cord around his neck.
[Upload complete! This system welcomes you to the world of The Proud Immortal Master’s Way! Binding your role: Luo Binghe, Qing Jing Peak disciple. Weapon: None. Starting B Points: 100.
We hope that you can transform this "Piss poor garbage that barely had any right to be called writing, stain upon the entirety of China’s […] etc.” story into a high end, impressive, classic work according to your desire! Fulfill dropped plotlines! Find the hinted “true end”! As the plot progresses, there will be multiple point-giving missions opened. Please make sure total B points do not fall below 0. Otherwise, the system will automatically give punishment~ You can, you up! Best of luck! ｡：ﾟ(｡ﾉω＼｡)ﾟ･｡]
What the fuck.
No, what the actual fuck.
Luo Mei-- no, apparently Luo Binghe now, never asked for this. He had been exaggerating when he said he wanted to be in the story so he could smell shizun’s hair. He had been joking when he said he’d die if he could meet Shen Yuan. Binghe was a fan, yes, but he wasn’t so much of a desperate fan that he’d give up everything to be in this trashy excuse of a web novel. This transmigrator had fought for tooth and nail to become anything close to successful in the modern world without the help of family or close friends. He had worked so hard for so long and he finally had a nice apartment, a university, a scholarship. He had a life!
Which Binghe supposed was the keyword. Had.
And with that gloomy thought, the hand on his forehead shifted, carding through his knotted hair. Binghe didn’t bother to stifle his groan from the tugging on his scalp. He was already in enough pain as it was, do you really need to add more, dear mysterious benefactor!
The hand stopped short and a round face suddenly filled up his vision. It was a young girl with eager eyes and a cute face, one which seemed to be unaccustomed to the warped expression of worry it was wearing. Ah, probably Ning Yingying. Luo Binghe would be stupid not to remember the favored disciple of Shen Qingqiu and Shen Yuan alike. Fuck.
“Binghe, are you awake now? Yingying was so worried about you!” She chirped.
Now, what was meant by the uttered ‘fuck’, one may ask. In truth, Ning Yingying was, by all means, a completely delightful girl. However, she was naive and ignorant throughout the story. She had unintentionally sided against her shifu and shizun by falling in love with Luo Binghe and beginning his eventually ever-expanding harem of women with IQs of approximately fifty. So naive and, frankly, stupid was she in the story that she had served as an unintentional spy in their sect, happily delivering updates on the internal workings to Binghe through letters and secretive romantic tristes between the two. She was one of the core reasons why her Shifu, Shen Qingqiu would eventually have his reputation blackened.
The scum villain Luo Binghe spread rumors and lies about his lover’s mistreatment at the hands of Shen Jiu, and she merely stood by with a dopey smile and baleful eyes, agreeing with everything the demon said! Ning Yingying was a very good person, but she had not a trace of filial piety in her bones.
“Where am I?” Luo Binghe asked, making sure not to move his face or neck too much. Ning Yingying’s brows furrowed further.
“Does A-Luo not remember? Was his head hit too hard by Ming Fan and the others? Yingying is really sorry, she shouldn’t have told the other disciples she made Binghe dinner! Are you hurt too badly? Should I get Shizun?”
What? No! Not yet! If he was truly Luo Binghe and this was truly the novel, then Luo Binghe had a few things to think about before new characters were introduced! Much less one of the main side characters who Binghe practically worshipped. ... And the kid had already shot up and hurried out of the shed.
Well, looks like the choice wasn’t even his to make. With the limited time he had alone, Binghe meditated on his character. He barely remembered Luo Binghe’s time on Qing Jing peak. He knew the boy suddenly reappeared as a villain one day, but before then? He had been sneaky enough to hide a dream demon from his shifu and shizun, that was for sure. Let’s see… The original was gloomy and shy, barely talking to anyone. He had seemed too weak and bad at cultivation that Shen Jiu regretted ever accepting the boy onto his peak. Overall, if it weren’t for the special bullying rights that shifu had allotted to himself and his students, young Luo Binghe would have been entirely forgettable. What was it that had blackened him, again? Something about an abyss, right?
Unbidden, the neon blue screen emitted from the jade pendant once more and script began to scroll across the screen.
“Shen Jiu watched, dispassionate, almost apathetic, as Luo Binghe fell deep into the abyss. He knew that if the young disciple survived the landing, most of the bones in his body would be broken. If he, against all odds, survived from that and healed, he would be faced with hundreds of trials from deadly demons and forgotten gods. Not to mention the poisonous miasma that whirled across the depths of the gorge, the alternating blazing heat and bone-numbing ice that swept across the lower world, and the thousands of other factors that would make it nearly impossible for the boy to survive.’”
[Excerpt from the turning point of Luo Binghe in Proud Immortal Master’s Way.]
Luo Binghe’s face changed into a variety of colors as he skimmed the passage, then went back and read it more thoroughly. He had… fuck, he had completely forgotten this. He remembered the original Binghe being cast down, but he didn’t remember it being this bad. Shen Jiu had never been down into the demon world, so as a reader Luo Mei had never dwelled too long on what it must have been like for the villain Luo Binghe to fight his way through it. But that description painted the transmigrator’s soon to be future like hell!
No way was Luo Mei going down there.
Screw this plot! Screw this system! Binghe didn’t want that kind of future! The forgettable white sheep Binghe had been thrown down there and survived, but he had also come out a poisonous and bitter man, twisted beyond recognition. There was no way that this soft Luo Mei could go through that kind of trauma! He wasn’t a shonen protagonist! System, let him live his life freely, ah!
Luo Binghe needed some ground rules if he was going to survive more than five years in this world.
First: Leave Qing Jing Peak. If he doesn’t participate in the plot, there’s no chance he would be thrown into the abyss. Simple.
Second: Avoid Shen Jiu absolutely. If there was one thing that any dedicated reader figured out within three pages of the book, it was that Shen Jiu had no luck whatsoever. If you were to ask Shen Jiu where his golden finger was, he’d scoff. If you asked where his missing protagonist halo was, he’d shout, “I’m not dead yet, ah! Are you stupid? I have no halo!” Simply put, to cling to the thigh of the illustrious Shen Qingqiu would be like clinging to a thigh of black iron, only dragging people down.
Third: Avoid as many mistakes as possible as early as possible. Even if Binghe was supposedly the main scum villain of the book, that doesn’t nullify the fact that apparently there was a better, hidden ending to the story? Implying that so long as Luo Binghe avoids his role as a villain like the plague, the story might just arrive at its appropriate resolution and Binghe might… might what? Win the transmigration game? Maybe live out the rest of his life in peace? Who knows. But it certainly sounded better than his future as a depraved, unfilial villain who killed both his shizun and shifu.
Binghe felt a sharp pain stab into his ribs and he winced, curling up further into himself.
“Warning: Major OOC actions will result in points deducted. Luo Binghe would not willingly leave the sect under any circumstances, nor would he avoid his venerated teachers.”
There was an OOC function in this world? Wtf? How was this fair? Why bother transmigrating him into this world if he wasn’t even allowed to change things up? Might as well leave the original goods here and let him die freely, instead of dying a death controlled like a puppet to an unknown system! Binghe really wanted to strangle this system.
A thwap sounded in front of Binghe as the door to the shed was thrown open, bright sunlight pouring out onto the ground and straight into Binghe’s eyes. He blinked rapidly at the two outlined figures standing in front of him. One was short and bouncing, her pigtails flouncing along with her frantically waving arms as she explained the situation. The other was a tall, willowy figure of a man. The light caught his profile and Luo Binghe stared, eyes filling with both excitement and dread. His face had a sharp profile, and his hair was tied back up in a half up-half down hairstyle with a crown. This was Binghe’s hated shifu, Shen Qingqiu. This was the peerless main character who would one day throw Binghe down a cliff.
This also wasn’t Shen Yuan, the twin that Ning Yingying had promised to get. Yingying, were you trying to kill him? Everyone knew that Shen Qingqiu despised Binghe, both because he was envious and the child reminded him of his younger self. Not a good combination. Every time Shen Qingqiu looked at the boy it was like triggering a sudden episode of PTSD. And Yingying expected this man to heal him!
The immortal peak master turned from his disciple to the boy, scowling. “Do you think you’re a disciple of Bai Zhan peak? What are you doing, fighting like a mongrel for scraps? It’s distasteful.” He spat.
The legendary sharp tongue of Shen Qingqiu stung. Even this new transmigrator felt bad for Binghe, the poor brat. If he didn’t know Shen Qingqiu so well from his status as a protagonist, Luo Binghe would be feeling extremely attacked right now.
The immortal master walked in, rolling Binghe over from his side onto his back with a quick kick of his heel. Is this what it felt like to be a soccer ball? Just battered around despite the extreme pain it brings?
His shifu barely glanced at his face and wounds for a second before gliding back to Ning Yingying, dropping a bottle of salve in her hands on his way out.
“This master does not want anyone to spread rumors that Qing Jing peak beats its disciples. Tell Binghe to apply this on his wounds, but do not apply it for him. It’s inappropriate for disciples sisters and brothers to be so close.”
And with those cool parting words, softly spoken, Shen Jiu had passed through the hut. There and gone like a celestial being, bestowing a small boon whenever he felt particularly benevolent. Luo Binghe almost coughed up blood.
This casual child abuse could be overlooked as a reader, but experiencing it first-hand? God, this whole experience was going to be miserable.