My Senior Brother Turned Black After I Died. Chapter 30

Chapter 30: Stripping You of the Right to Forbid Me From Calling You Little Wood

Ji Hantong was awakened by a scent that was both unfamiliar and strangely familiar.

He knew the description was contradictory, but that was exactly how it felt. The scent was like a pine forest after a snowfall, mixed with a very faint medicinal fragrance that brought an inexplicable sense of peace.

Ji Hantong opened his eyes blearily. What met his gaze was an unfamiliar bed canopy. The material was excellent, cool to the touch, and seemed to be a type of silk he had never seen before. It was embroidered with pale silver flowing cloud patterns that shimmered softly under the light filtering through the window screen. The bedding beneath him was incredibly soft, as if he were lying on a cloud, and the thin quilt covering him was light as a feather yet very warm.

He blinked, his mind still a bit dazed.

Where was this?

Ji Hantong remembered staying up late last night to finish a set of physics papers from the Huanggang Secret Exams. He had been so exhausted that he fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. How did he end up here the moment he opened his eyes?

Kidnapped? Unlikely. What kidnapper would bother snatching a poor orphan? Besides, the decor of this room didn’t look like a kidnapper’s hideout at all. It was ancient and elegant, carrying an indescribable ethereal air. Had he been kidnapped to a film studio?

Ji Hantong’s heart skipped a beat as an absurd thought surfaced—could he have transmigrated?

This thought jolted him awake, and his alertness immediately spiked to the maximum. He carefully moved his eyes, scanning his surroundings.

The room was large, but the furnishings were exceptionally simple and refined. Aside from the massive canopy bed he was in, there was only a red sandalwood desk by the window, where brushes, ink, paper, inkstones, and several jade slips were neatly arranged.

Then, Ji Hantong’s gaze fell on the side of the bed.

A man was leaning against the edge of his bed, seemingly asleep.

Ji Hantong held his breath and looked closer.

The man wore a deep black robe with wide sleeves. The fabric shimmered with faint, hidden patterns under the light, looking low-key yet luxurious. He was leaning his face against his folded arms, revealing a small portion of his well-defined profile. His ink-black hair was tied up with a simple jade hairpin, with a few stray strands falling down, accentuating the long, cold white lines of his neck.

Ji Hantong, a severe visualist, was instantly struck by this face that seemed to be tailor-made for his aesthetic preferences. Although alarm bells were still ringing in his head, he couldn’t help but be drawn to this sleeping face so close at hand.

An inappropriate phrase popped into Ji Hantong’s mind: Immortal Brother.

Bah, what was he thinking! Was this the time for that?

Ji Hantong mentally scolded himself.

Who was this person? Why was he sleeping here? And what was his own situation?

He moved, wanting to sit up and see what state he was in, but he felt his body was unusually heavy and weak. Moreover, something felt wrong.

Ji Hantong looked down at the hand he had reached out.

It was a small, fair, and chubby hand. The fingers were short, and there were several cute little dimples on the back of the hand. The nails were rounded and pink, like tiny shells.

Ji Hantong: ???

His eyes widened. In disbelief, he raised this small hand before his eyes, turning it over and over to look. Then, he reached out with his other hand and brought them together for comparison.

They were both identically small.

Stiffly, Ji Hantong lowered his head bit by bit to look at his body. Although it was entirely covered by the quilt, there was no way it looked like the body of a fifteen-year-old boy.

A terrifying hypothesis rose in his mind.

Ji Hantong took a deep breath, gathered his courage, and gently lifted a corner of the quilt to peek inside.

!!!

He almost cried out loud but bit his lower lip hard.

Beneath the quilt was the body of a child no more than four or five years old, fair and tender, with arms and legs that were both short and round.

I… I’ve turned into a kid?!

It was bad enough transmigrating without a golden finger or a system, but he had to transmigrate into a toddler?! Ji Hantong felt his vision go dark as his worldview suffered a devastating blow. He let out a sigh of grief and indignation.

Perhaps it was that soft groan of frustration, or perhaps his movements were too obvious, but he disturbed the light sleeper.

Shen Lanchuan, who was leaning on the bedside, had his eyelashes flutter slightly before he slowly opened his eyes.

Those were eyes of profound darkness. They were slightly hazy upon waking but quickly regained their clarity, sharp as cold stars. However, when the focus of those eyes landed on the tiny figure on the bed—who was staring with wide, round eyes, a short hand frozen in mid-air, and an expression that shifted from frustration to panic—that sharpness instantly melted like ice and snow.

Hantong… Shen Lanchuan’s voice was low and raspy from sleep. You’re awake. How do you feel? Is anything uncomfortable?

As he asked, he naturally sat up straight and reached out to touch Ji Hantong’s forehead. His movements were incredibly practiced, as if he had done this thousands of times.

The moment his hand reached out, Ji Hantong recoiled like a startled rabbit. He shrank toward the inner side of the bed, revealing only a pair of large, dark eyes that looked at Shen Lanchuan with wariness and unfamiliarity. His small mouth was pressed into a tight line, and he didn’t say a word.

Shen Lanchuan’s hand paused in mid-air.

Seeing the complete stranger-like wariness and distance in Ji Hantong’s eyes, his heart felt as if it had been pricked by needles, a dense and sharp pain.

What was happening? Had his memories regressed along with his body?

This realization made Shen Lanchuan’s throat tighten, but he quickly adjusted his emotions, suppressing the gloom in his eyes. His voice became even softer, even carrying a hint of coaxing: Don’t be afraid. I am your senior brother, Shen Lanchuan. Your body is very weak right now and you need to rest. Does anything hurt? Or do you feel dizzy?

Senior brother Shen Lanchuan?

Ji Hantong’s mind quickly filtered the information. It seemed this person and the original owner of this body were fellow disciples. The other party’s attitude seemed very gentle, even cautious, and no malice could be seen for the time being. However, he did not let down his guard; transmigration novels were full of characters who were gentle on the surface but cruel inside.

Where is this place? The voice was soft and waxy, clearly carrying a milky tone.

Ji Hantong: … Just let the world end already.

Shen Lanchuan also felt a bit like laughing, but he knew his junior brother was currently in a sensitive and fragile state. Thus, he tried his best to maintain his composure and explained patiently, This is the Taixuan Dao Sect’s Cangwu Peak. You are called Little Wood, and you are the Immortal Venerable Yuheng here. I am your senior brother, Shen Lanchuan. You used a secret technique to save your disciple and damaged your foundation, which is why you’ve become like this. Don’t worry, I will find a way to heal you.

Shen Lanchuan still felt a bit mischievous. Since his junior brother had secretly done something so dangerous while he was away, he had to give him some form of punishment.

The punishment would be to strip his junior brother of the right to forbid him from calling him by his nickname.

The amount of information was too much for Ji Hantong’s small brain to process. Taixuan Dao Sect? Damaged his foundation to save a disciple? What was all this!

How did he, a sixteen-year-old high school student, become an Immortal Venerable? And he even took a disciple? It sounded very impressive… No, the point was that he was currently a tiny tot!

Ji Hantong furrowed his small brows, trying hard to digest these words. The wariness in his eyes faded slightly, but his confusion deepened. He looked at Shen Lanchuan, then down at his obviously shrunken little hands and feet. His small face was written all over with Are you kidding me? and This is impossible.

Shen Lanchuan saw his disbelief and confusion and sighed inwardly, knowing this couldn’t be rushed. The priority was to confirm Hantong’s physical condition.

You’ve just woken up, don’t think too much. How about I ask a medical cultivator to come and check on you? Shen Lanchuan suggested softly.

Ji Hantong didn’t say anything, which was a silent agreement. He was indeed feeling weak all over and his head was a bit groggy. It would be good to have someone check his body while he was still trying to figure things out.

Moreover, for some reason, even though this senior brother before him seemed like a stranger, Ji Hantong subconsciously felt that he wouldn’t harm him. Perhaps this was a habit left behind by the original owner.

Shen Lanchuan immediately stood up, walked to the door, and whispered a few instructions to those outside. Soon, a white-haired elder with a kind face walked in carrying a medicine chest, accompanied by Xin Xuezhen.

Elder Lin, sorry to trouble you. Shen Lanchuan nodded to the elder and moved away from the bedside.

Elder Lin was one of the most skilled medical elders in the Taixuan Dao Sect. He walked to the bedside and gave a smile that was as kind as possible to the little child huddled on the bed, who was watching him with wide, curious, and guarded eyes. Yuheng… uh, may this old man check your pulse?

Looking at this kind-looking grandfather, Ji Hantong’s wariness relaxed a little more, and he slowly extended his thin little wrist.

As Elder Lin took the pulse, his expression gradually became solemn. He investigated carefully for a long time, observed Ji Hantong’s complexion and pupils, and even sent a trace of extremely gentle spiritual power to circulate through his meridians.

After a long while, he withdrew his hand and shook his head toward Shen Lanchuan and the nearby Xin Xuezhen, his brow furrowed tightly.

Immortal Venerable Mingshu, Sect Leader, Elder Lin stroked his beard and spoke in a heavy tone. The loss of Immortal Venerable Yuheng’s foundation this time is truly rare. It is not just the depletion of spiritual power, but it has touched the very foundation of his soul. His physical regression to childhood is a form of self-protection by the body, concentrating the few remaining bits of origin power to maintain his most basic life force and prevent total collapse.

Shen Lanchuan’s heart sank. Is there a way to treat it? What spiritual medicine is needed? No matter how rare, I will find it.

Elder Lin pondered. There is a way. A Heaven-grade Spirit-Returning Pill might gradually supplement the loss and help the Immortal Venerable return to his former state.

Spirit-Returning Pill? Xin Xuezhen’s eyes dimmed. I remember the main ingredient for that pill, the Jade Heart Orchid, has been extinct for many years.

Elder Lin shook his head with a bitter smile. The Sect Leader might not know, but it’s more than that. The greatest difficulty in refining a Spirit-Returning Pill lies in the extreme precision required for the heat, the fusion of medicinal properties, and the timing. A hair’s breadth of error will lead to total failure, and might even trigger a backlash from the pill’s destruction. Looking at the current cultivation world, the only one who would have full confidence in refining this pill…

He paused and looked at the tiny figure on the bed, who was nervously clutching the corner of the quilt after hearing these words. He said helplessly, I’m afraid it is only Immortal Venerable Yuheng himself. The Immortal Venerable’s attainments in the path of alchemy have long reached the level of a Grandmaster, and no one can surpass him.

Silence fell over the room.

Shen Lanchuan’s gaze fell on Ji Hantong. The little fellow seemed to have understood their conversation, knowing that the only one who could save himself was himself. A more bewildered expression appeared on his small face as he looked from one person to another. Finally, his gaze landed on Shen Lanchuan’s face, his clear, large eyes plainly asking: What do we do now?

Xin Xuezhen’s brow was also tightly furrowed. Senior Brother Yuheng had turned into a child and his memories were damaged; how could he refine such a complex pill? This had simply become a dead end.