The border of Jinzhou. Shanyuan Peak. Biehe Sect.
Deep in the forest, a wild waterfall plunged into the river below, its roar loud enough to shake the ears. A white-robed qin cultivator sat cross-legged by the water, an ancient guqin hovering above his knees, looking every inch like an immortal exiled from the heavens.
The strings trembled softly.
The moment the clear, melodious tune rang out, the rushing river and the shrill cries of summer cicadas seemed to fall away. For one brief instant, even time itself stood still.
Within that landscape-painting stillness, the jade-pale, pine-straight figure raised a hand.
Then he dropped from the clouds straight back into the mortal world and shouted, “Second Senior Sister! Fish!”
Shi Miaomiao, Biehe Sect’s Second Senior Sister, shot out of the waist-high grass with a swish. Her sleeves streamed behind her, a jade pipa cradled in her arms, her light and graceful figure like a flying immortal descending from beyond the heavens.
The pipa strings rang out.
The notes struck like shattered jade and clashing metal. Invisible sound waves burst across the surface of the stream, blasting up sprays of water like blooming flowers. Several plump river fish flew into the air, dazed and spinning, and she swept them neatly into the net.
“Beautiful!” Yu Qingtang landed on the bank with his guqin in his arms, eyes shining. “They’re so fat! We finally caught those fish that were practically turning into spirits. We can add another dish tonight!”
“In a few days, the mushrooms on the mountain will be ready to pick too. The only pity is that the chickens Master bought ran off again. Otherwise, we could have had chicken stewed with mushrooms...”
Yu Qingtang casually slung the guqin behind his back, rolled up his sleeves, and took most of the fish from her.
Although Biehe Sect was technically an immortal cultivation sect, it was painfully short on people. The entire sect had barely twenty-odd members from top to bottom, and the ones who stayed in the sect year-round could more or less be counted on one hand.
Since joining the sect, Yu Qingtang had spent far less time seeking immortality, pursuing the Dao, or chasing grand ambitions than he had researching ways to scrounge up good food and improve their meals.
Fortunately, remote as their sect was, it had mountains and rivers. Food could be found just about anywhere.
Judging by his daily routine alone, no one would ever guess that he had transmigrated into a Long Aotian novel.
Shi Miaomiao carried the fish, her smile full of the slightly foolish satisfaction of a good harvest. “Little Junior Brother, your Heart-Cleansing Melody is getting stronger and stronger. You bewitched those fish until they couldn’t tell up from down...”
“Are you sure you mean the Heart-Cleansing Melody and not the Soul-Bewitching Melody?” Yu Qingtang waved a hand. “It’s all thanks to the guqin.”
He pointed behind him.
The first-rank treasure artifact on his back, the Dragon-Crane Zither, was the only high-level magical artifact in all of Biehe Sect.
True, for certain special reasons, the zither could not display much of its power at the moment. Even so, it was still far superior to ordinary artifacts. As for why a tiny, obscure sect like theirs possessed a first-rank treasure artifact in the first place...
Don’t ask.
If you ask, the answer is: the plot needed it.
After all, this was not a world that had come into being in any normal sense. It was the world inside the book Young God-King: Unifying the Immortal Sects, and most of its events, opportunities, and fortuitous encounters existed to push the plot forward and make things convenient for the protagonist.
Naturally, the zither being here had its reasons.
Shi Miaomiao had not noticed Yu Qingtang spacing out at all. She stared at the zither with open envy. “Ah, Master really does dote on you the most. He just had to give the zither to you.”
She counted on her fingers. “If we go by seniority, it should have gone to Eldest Senior Sister. If we go by strength, it should have gone to Third Senior Brother. If we go by talent, it should have gone to Seventeenth Junior Brother...”
Yu Qingtang looked at her with the tender patience one reserved for the hopelessly simple.
His Second Senior Sister was wonderful in every way. She was just far too honest. Perhaps even missing a few crucial instincts.
He sighed and reminded her, “You could at least say that kind of thing behind my back.”
Shi Miaomiao looked utterly righteous. “Absolutely not.”
“Wouldn’t speaking ill of someone behind their back make me a petty villain?”
Yu Qingtang: “...”
See?
Shi Miaomiao switched the fish to her other hand. “But normally, I don’t think Master favors you that much. Why did he suddenly give you this zither back then?”
Her brows knit together as she began guessing wildly. Then her eyes widened, and she turned to look at him. “Don’t tell me Master did something to wrong you?”
Yu Qingtang: “...Ha.”
The way she said that made it sound like he and Master had a thing.
“Don’t act like it’s impossible!” Shi Miaomiao stroked her chin with her free hand. “Think back. Before Eldest Senior Sister tricked you into dressing as a woman for the Immortal Sects’ Women’s Extraordinary Arts Competition, didn’t she buy you candy every single day too?”
Certain unbearable memories surged back. The corner of Yu Qingtang’s mouth twitched, and he cut her off. “Stop.”
“Is there a chance,” he said, reaching up to rub the space between his brows, “that Master gave me the zither because you practice the pipa, Eldest Senior Sister practices the zheng, Third Senior Brother practices the xiao flute, and Seventeenth Junior Brother relies on his singing voice...”
He counted them off on his fingers, then pointed at himself. “Among the twenty disciples in our sect, I’m the only one who studies the guqin.”
Shi Miaomiao’s mouth fell slightly open. She was genuinely astonished. “That’s true!”
Then she grew puzzled again. “Why is that?”
“Because when we first entered the sect, Master said he was proficient in all eighteen arts, but the one thing he played worst was the guqin, so he didn’t recommend choosing it.” Yu Qingtang turned back with a bright smile. “So I chose the guqin.”
Shi Miaomiao was filled with solemn respect. “You walked straight into danger with your eyes open!”
“Oh, no, not really.” Yu Qingtang laughed dryly. “I just figured that since he played it badly himself, if I couldn’t learn it well, he couldn’t exactly blame me.”
Shi Miaomiao: “...”
Yu Qingtang walked on with his head bobbing, putting on an air of profundity as he waved a hand at her. “Besides, this zither may not stay with me forever. Perhaps, sooner or later, it will seek out its destined owner.”
Because he had read the script.
He, Yu Qingtang, was a fringe character who appeared for no more than two chapters in Young God-King: Unifying the Immortal Sects. His only purpose was to deliver the Dragon-Crane Zither into the hands of one of Long Aotian’s future harem members, Miaoyin Xian.
According to the plot, the book’s protagonist, Long Aotian, would fight monsters and level up all the way to Jinzhou. Through a series of coincidences, he would encounter Miaoyin Xian, holy maiden of Jinzhou’s Heavenly Music Sect. The two would take to each other at once and develop a relationship far deeper than ordinary friendship.
And while that relationship developed, there would inevitably be all kinds of incidents caused by the holy maiden’s beauty: harassment, attempted abductions, and provocations.
Unfortunately, that particular incident would happen right in front of Biehe Sect’s mountain gate, and Yu Qingtang would just so happen to run into it.
To be fair, he was rather warmhearted. Unable to stand by and watch a minor villain use his power to bully others, he would step forward in righteous outrage and play backup on the zither.
The result was that when the hero and villain clashed, the unlucky bystander suffered. He alone made a fool of himself by getting blasted nearly a mile away. In the end, he would struggle back to his feet, shove the zither into Miaoyin Xian’s hands, and keel over unconscious.
Then, the moment that treacherous zither reached a beauty’s hands, it would immediately start fawning over her, unleash its divine might, and shamelessly suck her blood to recognize her as its master on the spot, successfully hitching itself to Long Aotian’s rising star.
Long Aotian would give him some compensation afterward, but according to the principle that Long Aotian never suffered a loss, Yu Qingtang definitely would not come out ahead.
As for what happened after that...
He probably survived to the grand finale as one of Long Aotian’s countless underlings scattered across the world.
Why “probably”?
Because the author never mentioned him by name again.
Yu Qingtang was actually quite satisfied with this bit part. As long as he gave the zither away and avoided the places where Long Aotian got into fights, he could live a quiet, lazy, low-stakes life.
Come on. Flying through the sky, crossing the earth, and getting a taste of immortal cultivation was incredibly cool, all right?
He only hoped to wrap up his cameo as soon as possible without changing the direction of the original plot.
At that thought, unease stirred in his chest.
The truth was, he had met Long Aotian once a long time ago. That had not happened in the original plot, and he had no idea whether it would have any effect.
Hopefully, this world could steer the plot back onto its proper track by itself.
Shi Miaomiao had no idea what he was thinking. She was still staring at the Dragon-Crane Zither hovering behind him. “Little Junior Brother, is your storage ring broken?”
Yu Qingtang snapped back to himself. “No?”
Shi Miaomiao found this strange. “Then why don’t you put the zither away?”
Yu Qingtang glanced sideways.
He had a clear, elegant face, untouched by mortal dust. Especially when expressionless, with that detached and indifferent look, he had the bearing of a celestial being: noble, aloof, and perfectly proper.
Provided he did not open his mouth.
“Because it looks cool.”
The corner of Yu Qingtang’s mouth curved up slightly, leaving behind those three sincere and simple words.
Please. He had transmigrated here to cultivate immortality. This zither followed him automatically, hovering behind his back.
It looked super. Cool.
Before he gave it to Long Aotian, of course he had to show off properly.
Shi Miaomiao stared blankly after him, mouth slightly open, then hurried to catch up. “Wait for me!”
Her words seemed to echo, one cry overlapping another.
After all these years as a music cultivator, Yu Qingtang had not made much progress in other areas, but he had become quite sensitive to sound. He turned back in confusion. “I think I heard Eldest Senior Sister’s voice.”
“Tang!”
Sure enough, the moment he looked back, Yue Huanian, Biehe Sect’s Eldest Senior Sister, had already rushed up to him in a panic.
“Something happened!”
“That person—that person! That walking disaster from Qingzhou is here!”
Yu Qingtang froze. “Long Aotian? This soon?”
Yue Huanian looked confused. “Who?”
Yu Qingtang quickly corrected himself. “Uh, I mean... that rising young genius from Qingzhou...”
“Ye Chenyan!” Yue Huanian hurriedly supplied. “It’s him! He—he—he came looking for us!”
“So soon...” Yu Qingtang was a little surprised. The plot had never specified the exact year, month, or day, so he could only guess the timing based on the general direction of the story. As for when Long Aotian would bring Miaoyin Xian here to trigger this plot point, he had no real idea.
He turned back and stroked the Dragon-Crane Zither with lingering reluctance, then waved at Eldest Senior Sister to signal that she should not panic. “Don’t worry. I’ll go help.”
“Did he bring a pretty female cultivator with him?”
He looked down at his white clothes and muttered inwardly that if he had known today was the day he would be rolling around on the ground, he would have worn something more resistant to dirt. White clothes were such a pain to wash.
“What pretty female cultivator?” Yue Huanian was even more bewildered. “What are you talking about, Little Junior Brother? He came alone!”
This time, it was Yu Qingtang’s turn to widen his eyes in shock. “Huh? He didn’t bring a pretty female cultivator? Then what did he bring?”
Yue Huanian stared at him with a grave expression.
“A betrothal letter.”
Yu Qingtang: “...”
Cold sweat broke out across his forehead, and his voice trembled. “W-w-who is he marrying?”
Yue Huanian reached into her robe, pulled out a huge crimson betrothal letter, and unfurled it before him with a snap.
“Ye Chenyan, inner disciple of Guiyi Sect of Qingzhou, today entrusts Sword Sovereign Tianyi, sect master of Guiyi Sect, to act as matchmaker, with Elder Tianji Zi of Whatever Peak guaranteeing the match...”
Yu Qingtang skipped over that long row of impressive names and looked straight at the important part.
“...seeks the hand of Biehe Sect’s Little Junior Sister, Yu Qingtang.”
Yu Qingtang’s vision went dark.
“...”
It was all over.
“Little Junior Brother?” Yue Huanian seemed afraid she had frightened him and cautiously poked him once.
Yu Qingtang sprang up. “No, I have to run!”
He turned and bolted. After two steps, he doubled back and shoved the zither into Eldest Senior Sister’s arms.
“Wait. Give him the zither! Tell him I’m not home!”
Before he could run off again, Yue Huanian seized him by the scruff of the neck—the grip of fate itself—and shook her head gravely. “It’s useless, Little Junior Brother. His master, Tianji Zi, can calculate fate. He only came because he calculated that you were home.”
Yu Qingtang’s lips trembled.
Yue Huanian patted his poor foolish head with pitying affection. “Owing romantic debts at such a young age—”
“Don’t panic. Senior Sister is here.”
She tipped her chin toward the dazed Second Senior Sister, her expression resolute. “Miaomiao, gather the disciples. We’re holding a sect meeting. We need to discuss this at length.”
Author’s Note:
Yu Qingtang: Where is the author? Save me!
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