Half White Moonlight Script - Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Logically speaking, neither a white moonlight ex nor a stand-in current girlfriend should have any reason to run. Unfortunately, both Xu Luo and I have maxed out Yuan Yuan’s hatred.

Yes, both of us. Both.

There’s no need to recount what Xu Luo did, but what I did… well, that’s a long story.

“Then by all means, make the long story longer. Give me all the details,” Xu Luo urged, leaning back in her rocking chair and cracking melon seeds.

Seeing my attitude toward Yuan Yuan, she had guessed that my claim of amnesia was a lie. She even muttered, “I guess fan-fiction tropes don’t always translate to reality.”

I tried to ask about her origins, but she said I would find out in due time. I didn’t have the heart to press her, so I let it go.

Earlier today, Xu Luo had gone out and bought several lotus seed pods, which were now sitting on the stone bench beside her.

She held them up, cleared a spot for me, and eagerly poured me a cup of tea, begging me to tell her about the events of a thousand years ago.

Helpless, I sat down and began peeling lotus seeds for her while I told the story.

To this world, these were legends from a millennium ago, but to me, they felt like things that had happened only yesterday.

On the day I first woke up, I had been in a daze, thinking this would be like every other time I had woken up after being injured:

Yuan Yuan would have a grumpy look on his face, healing my wounds while crying tears of heartache.

Zhu Tao would burst through the door and shout, “Hey, Xu Zhi, you’re not dead yet, are you?”

Behind her would be my fellow disciples, their eyes filled with concern.

But all I saw was the snow-covered Qixue Peak and the white-haired Yuan Yuan.

Those stories and those people were buried forever in the past, a thousand years deep.

A thousand years ago, Qixue Peak was my master’s domain.

To ensure the mountain didn’t live up to its name, the old man kept the climate here like eternal summer and filled the place with lotuses.

Don’t get me wrong, it had nothing to do with being poetic or refined. It was purely because he loved eating lotus seeds and lotus roots.

He would buy a jar of wine, pluck a lotus leaf, and toss it into the water. Master would lie on the leaf, drifting along with the ripples, and when the mood struck him, he’d bellow at the top of his lungs: “Zhizhi, peel a lotus seed for your master!”

He claimed this was also a form of cultivation.

Cultivation, my foot.

He was just suffering from a terminal case of laziness.

I would accurately flick the seeds one by one into Master’s open mouth, wishing for the ten-thousandth time that I had a Junior Brother or Junior Sister to help serve this bone-lazy master.

One day, Master did a divination with his fingers and announced that he was destined to have one more disciple.

“Zhizhi, go and recruit this disciple on my behalf,” he said, slumped on the ground. “Master is just… so exhausted.”

My grip on my sword tightened.

I, Xu Zhi, was thirteen years old. My dream in life was to become strong, and then to betray my sect and kill my master.

If I didn’t give this old geezer a thrashing at least once, I really found it hard to sleep at night.

Following Master’s directions, I flew my sword all the way to the southwest of the continent.

Back then, Immortal Cultivators and Demon Cultivators hadn’t had their falling out yet. Everyone lived together with ordinary people on the continent, peaceful and bustling.

Case in point: in this little corner before me, everyone was laughing happily. A group of kids was kicking something around, playing a merry game of ball.

I landed with a smile, but as I got closer, I saw the truth.

That wasn’t a ball; it was a chubby little kid curled into a ball.

My smile vanished. My karma points dropped.

“What are you doing?” I roared, my voice booming from my diaphragm.

The little brats stopped their bullying. The boy leading them looked at me arrogantly. “Who are you? Mind your own business!”

I glanced at the chubby kid. “His sister.”

“Hmph, since when does Yuanyuan have a sister?” the brats jeered.

What kind of name was that? Giving people nicknames like that.

My hands started to itch.

By right, cultivators weren’t supposed to lay hands on mortals, but I never liked following the rules.

I unsheathed my sword-well, I kept it in the scabbard-and gave each of those brats a dose of righteous discipline.

“If you call him Yuanyuan again, I’ll beat you into pancakes!”

The little fat boy sniffled and looked at me pitifully.

I snapped, “What are you looking at? Let’s go!”

I grabbed him by the collar and hauled him onto my sword.

Good grief, he was solid.

The sword dipped sharply under the weight, wobbling unhappily. Even the hilt seemed to be straining as we took off.

The little boy’s face turned beet red.

He looked back at the brats who were wailing for their parents and stammered, “Will… will they be okay?”

“Don’t worry, I’m a professional. I only deal pure pain-no death, no permanent injuries. Where do you live?”

The little boy’s home was in the north of the city. It was a thatched hut so flimsy that the grass would fly away whenever the wind blew, giving it a certain ‘ethereal’ aesthetic.

The boy asked if he could learn cultivation from me.

I told him that cultivation depended on talent. Some people spend their whole lives without ever touching the gates of the immortal path. Then there are people like my martial uncle on the neighboring peak, who loved peeping at handsome men bathing and somehow gained enlightenment just by watching. There’s no logic to it.

The little boy lowered his head.

I felt a pang of pity. “How about I check your constitution and see if you’re fit for the Way of the Sword?”

He nodded. I reached out to feel his frame.

I couldn’t find any bone; it was all fat.

I pretended nothing was wrong. “My skills are lacking. How about I let my master take a look at you?”

The boy was very understanding. “Thank you, Immortal. No matter the result, it is an honor just to visit the immortal mountain.”

We were both happy. Only my sword remained deathly silent.

Having recently developed a nascent spirit, it grumbled in my mind: *’You’re the good person, you’re the noble one, you’re just so amazing, aren’t you?’*