novelraw Chapter 1 : The Dilapidated Temple
Chapter 1 : The Dilapidated Temple
Chapter 1: The Dilapidated Temple
Her throat felt as though she had swallowed red-hot iron sand; every swallow came with searing pain.
Lin Xiaowan woke amidst the sound of rain leaking through the broken temple roof and the twisting agony in her stomach. It took her three breaths to confirm two things:
First, she had transmigrated.
Second, this body had just swallowed arsenic and was about to die.
Fragments of memory pierced into her consciousness like shattered glass—defective spiritual roots, disgrace of the family, abandoned in the barren mountains, suicide.
“Innately flawed, won’t live past three years.”
What a terrible hand she had been dealt.
Rain pattered endlessly, and her body was so weak that even sitting up took immense effort.
Lin Xiaowan felt her life slipping away under the corrosion of the poison. Then, in her near-death haze, she “saw” it.
Not a life review, but a tattered ancient scripture exuding an archaic aura—《Yellow Emperor’s Inner Canon · Profound Essence Chapter》.
Content once copied in Japanese medical texts now collided and fused wildly with this world’s fragmented knowledge of “spiritual energy” and “meridians.”
She understood.
This was not some health-preserving manual, but a dual cultivation technique that pointed directly toward the Great Dao. It could heal injuries, neutralize poison, mend innate deficiencies, and even grant Ascension.
A cheat.
A lifeline in a desperate situation.
Lin Mo—no, in this world, she was called Lin Xiaowan.
She almost laughed, but the burning in her throat choked it into violent coughing.
Moments later, Lin Xiaowan fell into prolonged silence again.
In this desolate wilderness, inside a rain-leaking ruined temple, where could a dying girl like her find a partner for dual cultivation?
At that moment, the arsenic’s toxicity erupted.
The pain was like tens of thousands of red-hot needles piercing and churning through her stomach, intestines, and throat. In mere moments, cold sweat soaked her thin clothes, and her consciousness drifted and peeled away under torture-like agony.
Death was clearly within sight.
“Is this how it ends? After transmigrating to this world and gaining the chance to reach immortality, am I to die so absurdly in an unknown ruined temple?”
“It hurts so much, it hurts!”
Lin Xiaowan still struggled. Before death, from the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a flicker of firelight suddenly appearing on the mountain path outside the temple.
Not an illusion.
The light was moving, drawing closer.
Her instinct to survive overwhelmed everything.
Lin Xiaowan squeezed out her last bit of strength. The muscles in her neck tensed as she turned toward the doorway and rasped out two words: “Help... me!”
Her disheveled black hair clung with sweat to her pale cheeks and neck. On that dying face, her pupils shone with a terrifying brightness.
The firelight leapt into the temple, dispelling the darkness and casting two shadows upon the straw-covered ground.
Reflected in Lin Xiaowan’s ink-dark pupils were the figures of the newcomers:
An old monk with white brows and beard, gaunt-faced, holding a lantern, his gaze calm as an ancient well.
A young monk of about sixteen or seventeen, with delicate features yet somewhat dull, followed behind him.
Monks?
Why would it be… monks?!
Lin Xiaowan’s pupils trembled as absurdity and despair surged over her.
The intense pain mixed with this crushing irony, and her vision went black as she completely lost consciousness.
When she woke again, the first thing she felt was the warmth of firewood, along with a strong scent of plant ash in her throat.
“You’re awake?”
The old monk’s voice sounded.
He sat by the fire, holding a string of dark prayer beads, slowly turning them.
“Benefactress, you have been poisoned by arsenic. The optimal time to induce vomiting has passed. This old monk knows a little of medicinal remedies.” His tone was calm, as if stating something trivial. “While you were unconscious, I fed you thoroughly burned charcoal powder mixed with water. Charcoal has absorbent properties—it may temporarily slow the poison’s damage to your organs.”
“Th-thank you, Master.”
She tried to prop herself up, but it only triggered violent coughing and spasms in her stomach.
“No need for thanks.” The old monk quickly gestured for her to lie back down. “Charcoal powder can only absorb residual toxins and delay the onset. Judging by your complexion, the poison has already entered your bloodstream.”
He paused, his calm gaze still fixed on her. “Benefactress… you likely will not last until noon tomorrow.”
The calm verdict was more despairing than any harsh words.
The warmth of the fire seemed to vanish instantly, leaving only coldness.
Her ink-dark pupils widened slightly, reflecting the flickering flames, a trace of unwillingness flashing across her face.
The old monk continued, “My disciple and I were traveling and came upon this ruined temple to shelter from the wind and rain. We did not expect to encounter you. As monks, we uphold compassion. Though we cannot save you, we can promise this: after you pass, we will find a clean place to bury you, chant scriptures to guide your soul, and not leave your body exposed in the wilderness.”
Burial, salvation… Lin Xiaowan’s fingers unconsciously clenched the dry, cold grass beneath her.
No, she did not want this kind of compassion!
She had transmigrated here, carrying a fateful opportunity—how could she die silently like this?
“Why were you poisoned?” the old monk asked.
Lin Xiaowan did not dare tell the truth.
She wove a sorrowful story of being framed by her family due to her defective spiritual roots and forced to take poison. Tears, matching the resentment in her memories, fell at just the right moment.
The old monk sighed deeply, compassion surfacing between his brows as he closed his eyes and began chanting.
Night deepened.
Lin Xiaowan fainted several times and woke again. She looked at the young monk who had avoided her gaze the entire time and asked hoarsely, “Little Master, why do you… keep refusing to look at me? Is it because my current appearance… is too frightening, sullying your eyes?”
“Ah? N-no!” The young monk trembled, raising his head and waving his hands in panic, stammering, “I-I… Master, th-the firewood seems low. I’ll go gather some!”
With that, he nearly fled, jumping up and hurrying toward the temple door without daring to look at Lin Xiaowan again.
“Go early and return early. The mountain paths are slippery at night—be careful. In the latter half of the night, I will go gather wood.”
The old monk watched his disciple disappear before slowly turning back, meeting Lin Xiaowan’s probing gaze.
“My disciple Huijue has grown up in a mountain temple since childhood. This is his first time descending the mountain,” the old monk explained calmly. “He has never seen a benefactress with such appearance. It is normal for him to be nervous.”
Never seen a woman.
Pure-minded.
Untouched primordial yang.
These words struck Lin Xiaowan’s dying mind like lightning.
Passages from the Profound Essence Chapter burned brightly within her consciousness.
Wasn’t this exactly the “medicine” that could save her!?
Time ticked by second by second. Amid the torment, the latter half of the night finally arrived.
As expected, the old monk rose and, after adding more firewood, said to Huijue—who stood awkwardly far from Lin Xiaowan, his expression uneasy—“Stay here and watch over her. I will go outside the temple to inspect and gather firewood.”
With that, holding the old lantern and an umbrella, he stepped into the dense night outside.
The opportunity had come!
Lin Xiaowan dug her nails deep into her palm, using the pain to stimulate her fading consciousness.
She looked at Huijue. The firelight cast a fragile warmth over her pale face.
“Little Master,” she said softly, her voice gentler than before, “I’m so cold. Could you move the fire closer to me? Or… move me closer?”
Huijue’s back stiffened.
After hesitating for a moment, this kind-hearted young monk slowly turned around, lowering his head as he shuffled closer.
Carefully, trying not to touch her unnecessarily, he attempted to drag her along with the dry grass toward the fire.
“Carry me.”
Lin Xiaowan said weakly, turning slightly.
Her thin, sweat-soaked collar hung loose, revealing a section of her fair neck and faint collarbone. Under the firelight, it held a breathtaking allure.
Huijue’s breath caught. He lowered his head even further, the tips of his ears turning red.
Lin Xiaowan weakly draped her cold arms around his neck.
At the same time, a method from the Profound Essence Chapter that guided energy began to circulate instinctively within her.
Tears still lingered in her eyes, her gaze misty as she looked directly into the young monk’s flustered eyes.
“Can you hold me? Just for a moment.”
A faint smile appeared on her pale face as her other hand gently touched the young monk’s cheek.
“Little Master… your master said I won’t live until tomorrow.” Her voice was as light as a sigh. “My mother once said that being with a man is very warm, very comfortable… before I die, could you fulfill this wish of mine?”
Springlike charm filled her brows as their eyes met.
Huijue’s face first flushed red, then turned deathly pale.
A certain unfamiliar change in his body made him recall something, filling him with terror!
He suddenly shoved Lin Xiaowan away.
“No! You… you must not speak nonsense!” He staggered backward, his eyes full of panic, helplessness, and a fear born from a violent shock to both body and mind. “Men and women must keep their distance! I am a monk! Th-this is heretical and demonic!”
The last shred of hope shattered completely under his terrified rebuke.