My Senior Brother Turned Black After I Died. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: How to Handle Senior Brother? Act Cute!

Li Cangming instantly tensed his body, his hand moving toward his waist—there was a chipped dagger there, his only weapon.

“Who is it?” he asked in a low voice, his tone filled with alertness.

The person slowly turned around, and the dim room seemed to suddenly brighten.

The newcomer wore a seemingly ordinary black Taoist robe, but under the faint light filtering through the window, the fabric shimmered with subtle hidden patterns, clearly marking it as no ordinary garment. He looked to be no more than twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, but his features were so beautiful they were almost sharp. His brows swept toward his temples like wings, his eyes were like cold stars, his nose was high-bridged, and his thin lips were pressed into a cold, indifferent line.

The man stood there casually, yet he was surrounded by an indescribable majesty, like a high mountain or a deep abyss, making one afraid to look at him directly.

Alarm bells rang in Li Cangming’s heart. This person was definitely not ordinary; he might even be more unfathomable than the Immortal Venerable Yuheng he had met today. He could never be this man’s match.

“Who is Senior? Why are you in a disciple’s room?” Li Cangming suppressed the shock in his heart and bowed respectfully, his tone neither humble nor arrogant.

Shen Lanchuan did not answer immediately.

His gaze fell upon the bruises already beginning to heal on Li Cangming’s body and his tattered Taoist robe, then slowly moved to the youth’s face, which was stained with blood and dust. Finally, his gaze fixed on what was in Li Cangming’s hand.

It was the medicine Ji Hantong had given him.

Shen Lanchuan’s eyes darkened imperceptibly, and for a moment, the room became terrifyingly quiet.

After a long while, Shen Lanchuan spoke, his voice deep and pleasant but devoid of warmth: “You met Immortal Venerable Yuheng today?”

Li Cangming’s suspicion grew even deeper. How did this mysterious man know? After a moment’s hesitation, he answered honestly: “Yes. Today, this disciple encountered bullying from fellow disciples behind the Immortal Testing Platform. Fortunately, Immortal Venerable Yuheng passed by, resolved the situation, and granted me medicine.”

“Give it to me.”

Shen Lanchuan reached out his hand. His fingers were long and clean with well-defined joints, and the simple gesture carried an air of unquestionable authority.

Li Cangming hesitated for a moment before stepping forward two paces and placing the porcelain bottle in his palm.

Shen Lanchuan uncorked the bottle and brought it to his nose to sniff.

That was it. It was the most ordinary, lowest-grade Flesh-Regenerating Pill; even the refinement technique revealed a sense of clumsiness from when one first starts learning. Ji Hantong, who was now an Alchemy Grandmaster, could naturally no longer refine such a juvenile work.

Shen Lanchuan’s fingertips tightened slightly. This could only be the very first batch of pills Ji Hantong had successfully refined years ago.

Four hundred years ago, in the alchemy room of Cangwu Peak.

At that time, Ji Hantong had just started learning alchemy from him and was still a half-grown youth. Because he was born with a weak constitution, he was always forced by their master to learn these methods of healing and replenishing Qi.

The youth would knit his delicate brows, sighing at the furnace: “Senior Brother, this heat is too hard to control. Why are the pills you refine round and full, while the ones I refine are all lopsided?”

How had he replied then?

It seemed he had put down the jade slip in his hand, walked to the furnace, and held the youth’s slender wrist, guiding him bit by bit to adjust the rhythm of his spiritual energy output.

“Slow down here, speed up there. Hantong, feel the moment the herbs merge with your heart.”

Later, the Flesh-Regenerating Pill became the first type of pill Ji Hantong learned to refine with a one-hundred-percent success rate. The youth had triumphantly carried a furnace of round pills to him to claim credit, his eyes sparkling, and even the cinnabar mole at the corner of his eye seemed to come alive. “Senior Brother, look! I succeeded!”

Later still, as Ji Hantong’s cultivation grew deeper, the pills he refined became more and more advanced. Low-grade pills like the Flesh-Regenerating Pill were no longer needed.

Yet, Shen Lanchuan could still see one or two bottles of those first-refined Flesh-Regenerating Pills tucked away neatly in the corner of his junior brother’s bookshelf.

Ji Hantong said they were for memory’s sake.

And now, his junior brother had casually given this sentimental medicine to a bedraggled outer sect boy he didn’t even know.

Shen Lanchuan closed his palm, clutching the small medicine bottle tightly. Somewhere deep in his heart, it felt as if he had been pricked by a fine needle, giving rise to a strange, indescribable sourness.

Why was his junior brother treating this person so specially?

Li Cangming watched Shen Lanchuan stand there for a long time, unsure if he should move.

“Senior…”

Li Cangming truly couldn’t hold on much longer; his body was in agonizing pain.

Shen Lanchuan snapped back to reality. He pocketed the bottle Ji Hantong had given away and casually tossed another bottle of pills to Li Cangming.

“This is a Jade Bone Pill. Trading it for that bottle of Flesh-Regenerating Pill is not a loss for you,” Shen Lanchuan said coldly before leaving.

Li Cangming was left standing alone in the middle of the room, bewildered. Trading a top-tier healing medicine like the Jade Bone Pill for an ordinary Flesh-Regenerating Pill—did this senior have no head for business?

The bright moon hung high, and the Snow-Watching Pavilion at the summit of Cangwu Peak glowed with a warm light.

Ji Hantong reclined on a soft couch covered in thick snow fox fur. A water mirror floated before him, showing a popular TV drama from the modern world in real-time. He watched with great interest, even reaching out to take a piece of osmanthus cake from a white jade plate on the side table.

“Host, the first stage mission of meeting the male lead and showing him kindness has been completed. The reward of 500 points has been credited,” System 0621’s cheerful voice rang in his mind. “Since you chose to spend 100 points to exchange for the viewing rights to ten dramas, you have 400 points remaining.”

“As expected, one really can’t live without shows to watch while eating,” Ji Hantong said lazily, waving his hand. He took another bite of the osmanthus cake—Shen Lanchuan had specifically brought this back for him the last time he went down the mountain. It was sweet but not greasy, with a fresh scent of osmanthus that suited his palate perfectly.

“That’s only natural… wait,” System 0621 suddenly raised its volume. “Special energy fluctuations detected nearby. It’s your senior brother, Shen Lanchuan. He’s coming toward the Snow-Watching Pavilion.”

Ji Hantong’s eyes lit up. He immediately sat up straight, waved his hand to dismiss the water mirror, put the half-eaten cake back on the plate, and smoothed his clothes and hair, which weren’t actually messy. The series of movements was fluid and natural, clearly something he had done more than once.

Almost the next moment, the wind and snow outside the pavilion swirled slightly, and a black figure stepped through the moonlight.

Shen Lanchuan still wore that seemingly simple Taoist robe, but not a single snowflake touched his hair or shoulders. His aura was restrained, and only his star-like eyes softened imperceptibly for a moment when he stepped into the pavilion.

“Senior Brother!” Ji Hantong rose from the couch and walked forward a few steps to meet him, the cinnabar mole at the corner of his eye looking particularly vivid under the lamplight. “You’re back? Did things go smoothly?”

The joy and concern in his tone were completely genuine, just like every welcome over the past few hundred years.

Shen Lanchuan’s footsteps paused slightly. His gaze fell upon his junior brother’s glowing features, and the gloom that had lingered since seeing Li Cangming and that bottle of medicine seemed to be silently dispelled by this undisguised warmth.

“Mhm,” he grunted. His voice was still calm, but it lacked the coldness he had shown Li Cangming. “It was just a thousand-year-old Frost Dragon causing trouble in the North Sea. I have suppressed it and sealed it in the Ice Abyss.”

He spoke lightly, but Ji Hantong knew that any beast requiring Shen Lanchuan’s personal intervention was no ordinary creature; he had likely gone through a fierce battle.

“Senior Brother has worked hard.” Ji Hantong naturally reached out to take Shen Lanchuan’s hand and sit him down to check his body.

The bit of spiritual energy that entered the body was soft and warm, carrying the reassuring scent unique to Ji Hantong. Shen Lanchuan looked down at his focused expression and allowed the spiritual energy to flow through him. The last bit of his displeasure miraculously vanished.

“It was nothing,” he said. After a pause, he added, “It had not yet formed a true dragon body. Its frost poison could not hurt me.”

“That’s good.” Ji Hantong withdrew his hand, sighing in relief after confirming Shen Lanchuan was truly fine. He broke into a smile again, pulling Shen Lanchuan’s sleeve toward the couch. “Sit down quickly, Senior Brother. Try this osmanthus cake. The ones you brought back last time were excellent, so I specifically saved some for you.”

Shen Lanchuan allowed himself to be pulled and sat on the other side of the couch. His gaze swept over the plate of cakes that had clearly been touched, then fell on Ji Hantong’s smiling profile.

Specifically saved for him? The tooth marks on that half-eaten piece were still quite fresh.

But he did not expose the lie. Instead, a trace of indulgence flashed in his eyes as he picked up a piece of cake and put it in his mouth. It was sweet, soft, and fragrant, just like Ji Hantong himself.

“Not bad,” he evaluated.

Ji Hantong smiled even more happily. He knew Shen Lanchuan had picky tastes; getting a “not bad” was no easy feat.

He diligently poured a cup of hot tea and pushed it over. “This tea was brewed with snow water from the peak of Cangwu Peak. Try it, Senior Brother, it will help with the fatigue.”

System 0621 silently rolled its eyes. Shen Lanchuan was the one who brought the cakes back; listening to their conversation, one would think Ji Hantong had made them himself.

Tea steam curled in the air, mixing with the sweet scent of the cakes in the warm pavilion. Outside, the wind and snow continued, but they seemed to be completely isolated in another world.

Holding the teacup, Shen Lanchuan watched his junior brother busying himself with a lively expression, and his heart felt warm.

At least at this moment, Hantong was truly by his side, worrying for him and being happy for him.

That was enough.

As for that bottle of Flesh-Regenerating Pills… it was just a bottle of medicine. He had many more and better pills refined by Hantong’s own hands.

Seeing that Shen Lanchuan’s expression had relaxed and his mood had clearly improved, Ji Hantong also relaxed and sat beside him, chatting about idle things—mostly sect gossip or interesting cultivation stories. Shen Lanchuan didn’t say much, but he responded to every few sentences, his gaze occasionally falling on Ji Hantong’s high-spirited face. The atmosphere in the pavilion was warm and quiet.

Suddenly, a slight fluctuation of spiritual energy came from the wind and snow outside. Both stopped talking and looked out.

A middle-aged cultivator wearing the robes of an inner sect deacon stood respectfully ten feet away from the pavilion, braving the snow and not daring to enter without permission.

“Reporting to Immortal Venerable Yuheng and Immortal Venerable Mingshu,” the deacon bowed, his voice carrying clearly through the wind. “The Sect Leader requests your presence. He sent word that the decennial Sect Disciple Recruitment Ceremony will be held on the third of next month. The Sect Leader has ordered me to ask if the two Immortal Venerables will attend the ceremony.”

The recruitment ceremony?

Ji Hantong’s brow twitched. According to the original plot, it was during this ceremony that Immortal Venerable Yuheng would formally take Li Cangming as his disciple, starting the main master-disciple storyline. Since neither he nor Shen Lanchuan had attended in the past, he had been wondering how to bring it up naturally. He hadn’t expected the opportunity to deliver itself.

He quietly asked the system in his mind: “0621, is the disciple recruitment part a forced plot point?”

“Yes, Host,” System 0621 immediately replied. “Taking a disciple is the core plot of the second stage. It must be completed, with a deviation requirement of less than 5%.”

Then there was no choice, Ji Hantong understood.

On the other side, Shen Lanchuan’s brow furrowed imperceptibly after hearing the deacon’s report. He and Hantong had always disliked these noisy and tedious occasions, and they had no intention of taking disciples. Over the past few hundred years, nine out of ten such invitations were rejected directly. Xin Xuezhen knew this, so why did he send someone to ask today?

Shen Lanchuan was about to refuse when Ji Hantong spoke up first, his tone light: “Senior Brother, it sounds quite lively. Why don’t we go take a look? Staying on the peak all day is quite boring.”

The refusal at the tip of Shen Lanchuan’s tongue stalled. He turned to look at Ji Hantong. His junior brother was looking at him expectantly, his clear eyes reflecting the warm light of the pavilion and his own shadow.

The words of rejection suddenly became difficult to say.

Seeing his silence, Ji Hantong leaned in closer, lowering his voice with a hint of acting cute: “Senior Brother, let’s go. I heard there are a few good prospects this time. We’ll just go take a look; we don’t necessarily have to take a disciple. Just… think of it as accompanying me to clear my head?”

He knew Shen Lanchuan always had a soft heart for him.

Sure enough, looking at the face so close to his own with its pleading expression, Shen Lanchuan agreed.

“If you want to go, we will go,” Shen Lanchuan nodded.

Ji Hantong immediately beamed and turned to the deacon who was still waiting respectfully. “Go back and tell the Sect Leader that my Senior Brother and I will arrive on time for the ceremony.”

The deacon breathed a sigh of relief, bowed again, and then turned to depart on his sword, his figure soon disappearing into the vast snowy night.

Once the deacon was far away, Ji Hantong sat back on the couch and picked up another piece of osmanthus cake in high spirits. Seeing him like this, Shen Lanchuan couldn’t help but ask: “Do you truly want to take a disciple?”