Your Disciple or Your Master? - Chapter 1

I awakened after suffering a grave injury while saving my disciple.

It turned out I wasn’t a native of the cultivation world at all. I was a transmigrator—a cannon-fodder scumbag.

My disciple was my master from a thousand years ago.

No wonder they had the same face. I’d thought it was a coincidence.

The System told me that the injury had damaged my Golden Core and made further progress in my cultivation impossible.

My disciple, Xie Xingran, was extraordinarily gifted and advanced at a terrifying speed. Gradually, jealousy was supposed to consume me. I would torment him in every possible way, dig out his Golden Core, cripple his cultivation, and expel him from the sect.

Me?

If Xie Xingran was that brilliant, I’d be delighted for him.

The System refused to accept that.

It demanded to know how the male leads were supposed to develop a romance if I behaved this way. If I failed the scumbag mission, I would never return to my original world.

Before it even finished, it vanished, leaving behind a punishing current of electricity.

My original world? That had been a hundred years ago. Who would want to go back now?

I ignored it. Perhaps the plot couldn’t proceed without my cooperation, because my injury worsened until I was coughing blood every day. I lay on my bed barely breathing, clinging to life while random electric shocks struck me every so often.

I thought of the Spirit Transformation cultivation I’d spent a century painstakingly attaining and finally gave in.

With a sigh, I admitted to myself that I really did love Xie Xingran’s face.

The lofty, untouchable master was beyond my reach. Surely I could at least have a taste of the young disciple.

The instant the thought crossed my mind, agony tore through my upper dantian. Electricity ripped across my body. I convulsed and spat out a mouthful of blood.

“Master!”

Xie Xingran burst through the door. His peach-blossom eyes were red, and a single blink sent tears sliding from their corners.

I braced myself weakly against the bed. My arms shook beyond my control, cold sweat streamed down me, and the Golden Core in my lower dantian trembled so violently that the pain nearly knocked me unconscious.

“Where is that Cold Spring Senior Martial Uncle mentioned? I’ll take you there!”

The sect did have a Cold Spring that could nourish one’s meridians, but it was on Master’s mountain.

After Master stepped down, each of us had been given a mountain of our own. Unless he summoned me, I never disturbed him.

A thousand years later, Xie Xingran no longer went by that name. He was Xie Wuwang, the patriarch of the Path of Heartlessness, and every one of us fellow disciples feared him.

Still, I’d heard he was in seclusion. It was worth trying our luck.

Xie Xingran helped me sit up and pushed a spirit pill into my mouth. His fingertips came away stained with blood from my lips.

I wiped his fingers clean with a handkerchief.

“The Cold Spring is on your… Grandmaster’s mountain. Carry me there.”

Mount Cangwu was protected by a restriction that blocked teleportation talismans. In my current state, flying was out of the question.

Xie Xingran’s ears reddened. He bent down and swept me into his arms.

What?

Heat rushed to my cheeks.

The truth was, my feelings for Xie Xingran weren’t entirely proper.

When I had been a disciple, I fell for my master. Now that I was a master myself, I had fallen for my disciple.

I blamed Xie Xingran’s face. It was too beautiful. I had absolutely no resistance to it.

Unfortunately, this was a selfcest novel. The two of them were supposed to take care of each other.

Tch. Sleeping with yourself—how was that even supposed to work?

They might as well give one of them to me.