BB | Chapter 3

A Perfect Match Made in Heaven

Shen Canglan was lost.

Although he had heard from his shixiong and shijie about the complexities of the world beyond the mountain, Shen Canglan never expected that even the roads would be so bewildering.

He wandered around, exploring as he went, but even by sunset, he had yet to find his way out of the small town at the mountain’s base.

As night fell, Shen Canglan faced a new dilemma.

He didn’t know where to stay.

He could sleep anywhere—on tree branches, rocks, or by the river—but his shixiong and shijie had warned him that city folk were particular and might wake him up for questioning if he slept in the open.

So he was left with one option: an inn.

He had never stayed in an inn before. He’d heard that guests were provided with bathwater, though he wasn’t sure if it was true.

He asked someone for directions, and they pointed him in a direction, saying, “That way.”

Gradually, Shen Canglan arrived at a brightly lit area.

He hadn’t seen so many people during the day, but the night market was bustling with people laughing and drinking together.

Someone noticed Shen Canglan and reached out to touch his sword. “Young Daoist, where are you from? What’s your name? Your sword is beautiful, may I touch it?”

Shen Canglan replied earnestly, “No.”

“Why not?” the person asked.

“There are too many people here,” Shen Canglan explained. “If I draw my sword, someone might get hurt.”

The person blushed for some reason and asked shyly, “Then… can we go somewhere private to see it? Is your sword luminous? If so, we could even look at it under the covers.”

Shen Canglan gave him a puzzled look. “How could that be? If I were to hunt monsters at night and drew a glowing sword, wouldn’t the monsters flee?”

The person was speechless.

“Hunt monsters?” they asked.

“Naturally,” Shen Canglan replied. “I must exorcise demons and uphold the Dao.”

“Do you only think about hunting monsters at night?”

“Of course not,” Shen Canglan said. “There’s also cultivation and ascension.”

The person gave Shen Canglan a complex look and abruptly turned away, muttering something about “hopelessly straight.”

Shen Canglan was speechless.

After squeezing past couples embracing each other, Shen Canglan finally found an inn.

Forty coins for a night. Shen Canglan felt a pang in his heart as he paid.

The inn attendant warmly led Shen Canglan to the second floor and asked, “Daoist, would you like some company?”

“Company?” Shen Canglan was puzzled.

“We have men, women, and some who are both,” the attendant said. “If you have other preferences, we even have cactus spirits.”

Shen Canglan was taken aback.

“No, thank you,” he politely declined.

The attendant looked regretful as he left.

The anticipated bathwater service never came.

Fortunately, Shen Canglan knew some basic spells.

The Body Cleansing Technique, Clothing Cleansing Technique, and Disrobing Technique were all taught by the Lovers Sect, very convenient and practical. Shen Canglan liked them a lot.

…Wait.

Something was off.

At that moment, he suddenly understood the core purpose of these spells.

Oh, his Jade Emperor.

The Lovers Sect taught him self-cultivation;

Life beyond the mountain made him grow rapidly.

Spells were blameless.

Shen Canglan didn’t want to think too much about it. With a complicated heart, he cleaned himself and sat cross-legged on the bed to begin cultivation.

He closed his eyes but could see the golden spiritual energy dancing joyfully around him.

Shen Canglan absorbed it all into his body, letting it flow through his limbs and eventually gather in his dantian.

But once he stopped guiding it, the compressed spiritual energy would disperse, leaving very little in his body, which he found regrettable.

If only he could absorb more, it would be more efficient.

–

In the room next door, a young man polishing his sword suddenly stopped, his sword-like eyebrows furrowing into an indescribable expression.

“What’s wrong, host? Why do you look like you’ve eaten charred meat only to find it raw inside with frog eggs?”

The young man frowned tightly, looking disgusted. “You don’t have to be so detailed.”

After a pause, he added, “There’s someone in the room next door.”

“Hmm… and then?”

The young man stood up, twirling his wrist. The long sword in his hand spun around his wrist before being sheathed with a click.

A pendant hung from the scabbard, engraved with three flamboyant characters—

Li Yaochen.

Once, this name represented much: a favored son of heaven, a goal for many to chase.

But now, it was just an ordinary Qi Refining stage cultivator, out of place in this world.

Li Yaochen flicked the sword hilt with his finger, out of sheer boredom, and spoke to the voice in his mind that called itself a “system”: “He’s a cultivator, and he’s using a very strange, inefficient method to cultivate.”

Since Li Yaochen transmigrated to this world, he had always said the cultivation methods here were flawed, wasting good spiritual energy. But the system, being just a system, had no idea what he meant.

Yet it remembered its mission: “I didn’t expect you’d end up in the same inn. What a wonderful coincidence. Want to meet him? A delightful encounter awaits you next door.”

Li Yaochen couldn’t be bothered to respond.

He closed his eyes to meditate, preparing to cultivate, but his brows furrowed even more tightly.

“…Ugh.”

“What’s wrong?”

“His cultivation method suddenly changed, becoming even more disgusting,” Li Yaochen said.

He asked the system, “If you wanted to lift a huge stone but couldn’t with your own strength, what would you do?”

“Let me think… I’d find a cart.”

“You can’t use a cart.”

“Then… I’d just train my body to get stronger so I could lift it.”

“Exactly,” Li Yaochen said. “For us cultivators, cultivation is like training. By guiding spiritual energy through the body’s major meridians, we stabilize and compress it for our use.”

“But this person…”

Li Yaochen raised his eyebrows. “He thinks his hands aren’t big enough to hold the stone, so he attaches many other people’s hands to his, and then more fingers to those hands, one after another, making his fingers numerous and long.”

“…I can picture it now, stop,” the system said.

“It’s bizarre, isn’t it? I wonder who taught him this unreliable method. It’s disgusting, but somewhat interesting.”

Li Yaochen pondered, then suddenly stood up. “I really need to meet this person.”

The system cheered in his mind.

Li Yaochen wasted no time, immediately heading out, knocking on the door next door.

Shen Canglan was immersed in his new cultivation mode.

Previously, his cultivation was a slow trickle, with little coming in and even less staying.

Now, he had improved his method to be like a dam releasing a flood—much came and went, but more stayed.

Feeling his dantian gradually filling, Shen Canglan was filled with joy and reflection.

…What kind of hard life had he been living before?

Just as he was thinking this, he heard a knock on the door.

Hmm?

Shen Canglan opened his eyes and looked toward the door.

He thought it was the inn attendant returning and raised his voice slightly, “No need.”

He didn’t want to find a man, a woman, or a cactus. He just wanted to cultivate.

But the knocking persisted, accompanied by a crisp, youthful male voice: “I have something to ask you.”

It wasn’t the inn attendant’s voice.

Who?

Shen Canglan blinked, eventually getting out of bed to open the door.

A person stood outside.

This person seemed about his age, or perhaps a bit older, and was half a head taller.

Li Yaochen wore black clothes with red patterns, his hair tied into a high ponytail with a deep red ribbon. The most striking feature was the long sword at his waist, its cold silver light and intricate hilt pattern suggesting it was expensive.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, also sizing up Shen Canglan.

“Oh my, those eyebrows, that nose, those lips. Host, he’s so fair-skinned. Do you feel any—”

“No, shut up,” Li Yaochen interrupted the system, asking Shen Canglan, “What’s your name?”

Shen Canglan’s gaze drifted. “Shen… Shen Daqiang. And you?”

Li Yaochen was silent.

Clearly a fake name, but Li Yaochen didn’t expose him, introducing himself instead: “I am Li Yaochen, and I don’t change my name.”

Shen Canglan felt a bit ashamed. “Alright. Actually, I’m Shen Canglan. Who are you, and what do you want to say to me?”

Li Yaochen got straight to the point: “Your cultivation method is strange. Where did you learn it?”

“Are you a cultivator too?” Shen Canglan asked.

Li Yaochen nodded.

Shen Canglan fiddled with his sleeve. “I figured it out myself. Impressive, right?”

Li Yaochen didn’t respond, contemplating how to speak.

He had acted impulsively, concerned that the other might be on a misguided path, but upon meeting, he realized pointing it out might seem presumptuous and disrespectful.

As he hesitated, footsteps approached from the stairs.

The inn attendant, seeing the two at the door, was initially startled but then smiled.

“Ah,” the attendant said, “I didn’t expect neither of you wanted company because you had other plans. Would you like hot water later?”

Shen Canglan was speechless.

It seemed that as long as two breathing beings stood together, others assumed they were a perfect match made in heaven.

Whether speaking or silent, it was seen as intimate.

In any case, people could always find a way to pair them.

Shen Canglan felt he really couldn’t understand this world.

Was his imagination too limited?

While he stood there bewildered, Li Yaochen stiffly said “No need,” then grabbed Shen Canglan’s arm, pulling him back into the room with him.

Outside the thin door, the inn attendant’s voice could be faintly heard, making some incomprehensible sounds: “★☆~~~”