“A beast?!” Xu Kai repeated, the word hanging in the air between them.
Chen Xi gave a single nod.
He watched her face, searching for any hint of a joke. He found none. Her expression was deadly serious. Of all the things he’d braced for in this new life, being drafted into a monster hunt within the first hour was not on the list. Especially with a brain empty of practical knowledge.
“What beast are you planning to slay?” he asked, keeping his voice steady.
“A wolf.”
“A wolf?” He almost laughed. The tension in his shoulders eased a fraction.
“Yes. A monstrous, deadly one,” she clarified, her tone grave.
Xu Kai let out a quiet breath. His reply was laced with a nonchalance he didn’t fully feel.
“It’s just a wild animal. I’m certain you could kill it with your eyes closed and your limbs tied. So why do you need my help?”
He had a point. In his old world, a wolf was a genuine threat. Here, from cultivation fictions he’d read, ordinary wildlife was trivial to cultivators. Even the lowest among them could dispatch such creatures without breaking a sweat. It wouldn’t be a fight; it would be pest control.
“No, Master. You’re getting it wrong,” Chen Xi said, shaking her head slowly. “It isn’t a wild animal.”
“Wrong?” he repeated, the ease fading. “It isn’t?”
“No.” Her eyes t his, unwavering. “It’s a True Beast.”
Xu Kai’s brows lifted.
“A True Beast?” The term ant nothing to him, but her dismissal of ‘wild animal’ spoke volus. This was sothing else. Sothing stronger. Dangerous enough that she hadn’t tackled it alone. Dangerous enough to require his, or rather, her master’s help. “What’s that?”
“True Beasts,” Chen Xi began, her voice dropping into a lecturing tone, “are exactly what the na suggests. They are the actual definition of ‘beast.’ Their capabilities are unmatched by any ordinary animal.”
She leaned in, emphasizing her point.
“Just like cultivators overpower mortals in every way, True Beasts overpower ordinary beasts in every way. They start as animals, but prolonged exposure to dense spiritual energy changes them. They beco… uh…”
“Superanimal,” Xu Kai chid in without thinking.
'Superanimal. Like a superhuman,'
The concept from his old world sohow fit oddly well here.
“Yes,” Chen Xi accepted the term with a small shrug. “A Superanimal.”
He wasn’t sure if she grasped the exact aning, but it didn’t matter. The word was for him.
At that mont, Chen Xi’s gaze drifted away, growing distant. It was the look of soone rembering sothing fond, sothing unrelated. She sighed, a soft, nostalgic sound.
“I rember that play you used to take to watch when I was younger. It was about a—”
Xu Kai cut her off. He didn’t know the story, and more importantly, he didn’t care. It had nothing to do with the wolf or survival.
“Hey. Back to the point.”
“Ah, yes. Sorry, Master,” Chen Xi then folded her arms across her chest, a pout forming. “But you could have let finish. It’s a good story.”
“Tell it when I have ti to waste,” he said flatly. “Right now, I don’t.”
He ant it. Ti felt precious. Waking up in this world had ignited a sharp, greedy hunger for knowledge in him. He wanted to understand everything, the rules, the dangers, the power. Sitting here listening to childhood anecdotes wasn’t on the agenda.
“Hmph. Serious as always,” she rolled her eyes. “If you keep cutting off ladies like that, Master, you’ll definitely end up dying single.”
'Ack!'
The words were a physical blow. Xu Kai’s breath left him in a quiet rush. He slowly brought a hand to his chest, feeling a phantom, piercing pain right over his heart.
'She has no idea,' he thought, the truth of it echoing bitterly.
He had died single in his previous life. To have the sa fate casually prophesied for this one… it hit harder than any punch. The words themselves were the pain.
Chen Xi watched him from the corner of her eye and gulped. Her master’s face had gone pale. His eyes were wide, staring into the middle distance as if witnessing his own bleak future flash before him.
Seeing the situation spiraling toward potential punishnt, she steeled herself. She lifted her chin and plowed ahead, her tone forcibly bright, as if she’d said nothing more controversial than comnting on the weather.
“So, Master! As I was saying, because of the spiritual energy, they beco Superanimals. Far more powerful, intelligent, and dangerous than ordinary beasts.”
Xu Kai’s head turned slowly. He fixed her with a glare so intense it could have scorched stone.
Chen Xi imdiately looked straight ahead, avoiding his gaze as if avoiding a death ray. Which, in a way, she was.
With a monuntal effort, Xu Kai let it go. Dragging that particular subject any further would only twist the knife. He forced his mind back to her explanation.
From what she’d said, a True Beast was just an ordinary animal’s “I’m better” version. But not just a little better. A far better version. They absorbed spiritual energy, and it enhanced everything, strength, speed, senses, maybe even cunning.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from . If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
But sothing still felt crucial to clarify.
“Can they… perform energy blasts? Or sothing like that?” Xu Kai asked.
From her description, it didn’t seem likely, she probably would have ntioned it to him, but Xu Kai saw no harm in checking. The last thing he needed, fresh into this new life, was to face a wolf that could pulverize steel and fire off Ki-blasts like a certain ani character.
Chen Xi, oblivious to his internal dread, shook her head.
“No, they can’t.”
'Good.'
True Beasts couldn’t hurl energy projectiles. Their threat was physical, enhanced muscle, speed, ferocity. That was manageable. Or at least, it felt less cosmically terrifying to Xu Kai.
Xu Kai sat back, his gaze sweeping the dense, endless green around them.
“What is this place, anyway?”
Chen Xi hesitated. A beat too long.
“Uh… this place is called Lud Forest, Master.”
“A forest?” he repeated, the word flat.
She gave a reluctant nod, unable to et his eyes.
“So we’re in a forest,” he said, his voice carefully controlled. “Where monsters are literally our neighbors. Are we lost?”
“No! Not at all!” she waved her hands in a frantic, dismissive gesture. “We’re not lost.”
“Then why are we here?”
“Uh…”
A single bead of sweat traced a path down Chen Xi’s temple. Her face flushed a deep, brilliant red. She looked anywhere but at him, her eyes darting to the trees, the sky, the rock beneath them.
In that mont, a vivid, cringe-inducing flashback assaulted her. She saw herself, pleading, begging, wailing. She’d desperately wanted to leave their peaceful, safe ho for the thrill and resources of the forest. Her master had refused. Over and over.
No amount of crying had worked. Not the flattery, not the, flimsy, logical argunts, not the constant shadowing, not the outright refusal to do her chores, not even the tis she’d physically latched onto his leg like a stubborn toddler, refusing to let go until he agreed.
He’d always given the sa calm, firm answer: The forest is too dangerous. The threats are unpredictable. We are not yet strong enough.
But she’d been dead set. Obsessed.
The campaigns had grown more desperate, more outrageous. And finally, worn down by the relentless siege, her master had sighed. He’d looked at the sky as if asking for strength.
And he had given in.
“Are you okay?” Xu Kai asked, watching her sudden transformation into a flustered, tomato-red statue.
“Y-Yes! I’m perfectly fine, Master!” Chen Xi’s voice was an octave too high. She let out a nervous laugh, her eyes still firmly locked on a particularly interesting knot in the wood grain of the rock.
The embarrassnt was bad, but confessing the whole, ridiculous story would be infinitely worse.
'What should I say?'
The idea to lie flickered through her mind. She lied to her master sotis, when she had no other choice. But he always knew. He could read her like a simple children’s scroll, and getting caught always ca with a special package: punishnt.
Now was different, though. He’d lost his mories. That sharp, knowing gaze might be gone. He might not see through a lie now.
The temptation was sweet. But she pushed it away.
'Not worth it. Betting weeks of punishnt-free existence on a single fib? Over sothing this silly? No. Even amnesiac, he was still him.'
Xu Kai stared, dumbfounded, waiting for an answer to a perfectly reasonable question.
“We-well,” she stamred, drawing out the word. “How we ended up here is… a veeery long story.”
'Please don’t like long stories. Please don’t like long stories,' she prayed silently, squeezing her eyes shut for a second.
The original Xu Kai hated long stories, especially from her. He only demanded detailed explanations when she’d caused a disaster. Otherwise, he preferred brevity.
But this Xu Kai was different. She didn’t know how different, but losing all your mories had to change a person. All she could do was hope the aversion to rambling had survived the mory wipe.
Xu Kai didn’t answer right away. He just watched her, the fidgeting, the avoidance, the sheer depth of her awkwardness. Pushing further on this clearly felt like poking a beehive. The question wasn’t that important anyway. Whatever had happened, it had reduced his formidable disciple to a stamring ss. He should probably let it go.
He should.
But then, a tiny, mischievous impulse stirred. A bad idea, pure and simple, surfaced.
A faint, almost imperceptible smirk touched his lips.
He leaned forward, closing the space between them.
“Well, you’re in luck,” he voice dropped to a conspiratorial tone. “Because I like long stories.” He paused for effect. “Very long stories.”
He was going to push. Just to see what happened.
At that mont, Chen Xi froze. All the blood seed to drain from her face, leaving her pale.
The sight satisfied the little spark of mischief in Xu Kai. For Chen Xi, however, it was a disaster.
His reply short-circuited her brain. A terrifying thought dawned.
'Is he teasing ?'
That was… unusual. Most of the ti, she was the one doing the teasing. On the rare occasions the roles reversed, her master’s teasing was a surgical strike, precise, effective, and deeply unsettling.
'No,' she told herself desperately. 'He can’t be. If he were teasing, he’d be wearing that devilish grin.'
But—
She realized she hadn’t actually looked at his face. Slowly, dread pooling in her stomach, she turned her head.
'No.'
He was grinning. It was a small, smug, utterly wicked thing. And in that mont, she knew the heavens had abandoned her.
That grin was a signature. A declaration of war. He didn’t go out of his way to find ammo against her, but when life handed him a situation, especially one of her own making, he would weaponize it. It was his preferred thod of payback for all the chaos she’d ever caused.
“M-Ma-Master?!” she stamred, her voice a thin squeak.
“What’s the matter?” Xu Kai replied. His tone was calm, perfectly innocent.
But he wasn’t innocent. He knew she was sitting on sothing deeply embarrassing, and he was going to dig it out. His inner imp was thoroughly enjoying her squirming. She was so easy to fluster. For now, the power was his.
So deeper, wiser part of him whispered that this would likely co back to bite him. Hard. But he pushed the thought aside.
He’d savor this victory first. Regret could co later.
“N-Nothing… Master,” she managed, looking everywhere but at him.
“That’s a relief,” Xu Kai said, his voice dripping with faux concern. “Your sudden change scared for a mont.”
“Th-There’s no need to worry.”
“Good. So, now that’s settled,” he said, leaning in again, his grin widening just a fraction. “Back to the question.”
Chen Xi stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye. The set of his jaw, the glint in his eye, it was a wall. There was no escape.
The heavens had truly, utterly betrayed her.
“Well…” Chen Xi began, the word dragging out miserably. “Master… it was my idea to co here.”
Xu Kai’s brows lifted.
“Your idea?”
“Yes. I… convinced you for us to move here.”
He nodded slowly, a thought clicking into place.
'Expected. Who else is crazy enough to choose a monster-infested forest as a ho?'
“And I accepted?” he finally asked.
“…Ye-yes. You did,” she mumbled, studying a crack in the rock.
“Why?” His voice was flat. “Staying in a forest like this, with beasts that rival cultivators, seems to have more risks than rewards.”
Chen Xi shook her head, a flicker of defensiveness returning.
“I convinced you, Master. With reasonable proof. That’s why you agreed.”
It was a half-truth. She’d provided so reasons, but the real persuasion had been a sustained campaign of sheer, relentless nagging.
“So you’re saying living here has more advantages?” Xu Kai pressed, skepticism dripping from every word.
She gave a firm nod.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Well, Master,” she started, shifting her posture. “If you don’t rember… you spent more ti on crafting, alchemy and other things than on actual cultivation.” Her expression darkened for a fleeting second. “That was due to reasons you never told . I had my suspicions, but I could never be sure. Whenever I asked, you’d just… lie to .”
“How did you know I was lying?”
Chen Xi threw her hands up.
“Master, seriously? I’ve been with you since I was a little girl! You practically raised . Of course I’d know when you were lying!”
“Ah. Makes sense,” he conceded. “So there’s no way for you to find out what you were curious about?”
She shook her head, the frustration evident in the slump of her shoulders.
“No. No way. And now… now all hope of learning about it is gone. Because you don’t rember any of it either.”
User Comments
0 comments from readers