Chapter 2- what happened
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"Where am I?" regaining my consciousness, I immediately shot up, "No... why am I here?" I inquisitively looked around and noticed some familiarity with the room. The bed I'm sitting on is unmistakably mine. The red elm walls are the same as the ones in my room. With all this, I can safely conclude; I'm in my room. But why? I churned my memory to grasp any clue.

"Jiang Ming, are you all right?" I turn my head, kneeling beside the bed is Hong Lin. Looking at his face full of worry revives my memory of how I got here. The toilet man attacked me. If I remember correctly, the argument was over a scroll that we had stolen from the library.

"Shit... do I still have it?" I frantically searched my pockets and looked around the bed, but regretfully, I couldn't find it. The scroll isn't that important, but it still required effort to get; under the watchful eye of the librarian, and I also hate losing my things.

"Hehe... I knew this was important to you," Hong Lin fishes out a brown scroll from somewhere and presents it to me. My eyes shine, and I snatch it from his hand.

"How did you get it? Didn't that fellow steal it away?" As I confirm the scroll's condition, I ask Hong Lin.

"I found it next to your unconscious body," for some reason as he says that, he avoids my gaze. I swear this guy should have been born a female. I'm embarrassed to say that I had thought of him as a girl for a good one year. But I can't be blamed. His natural charm and little actions resemble that of a woman. In fact, it's more feminine than that of women. "Jiang Ming, are you all right?" His question forces me to examine my body now that I'm thinking about it. I do feel some pain in my ribs and other areas in my body.

"Nothing serious. It will heal with time," to my answer, he heaves a sigh of relief. I know he's a friend but isn't he a little too friendly? How we met and became friends, I no longer remember. All I know is he somehow just showed up and became extremely clingy. The fact that we were coincidentally allocated the same courtyard didn't help.

"That toilet man, is it that he attacked us because of the things we did back then?" Seeing the toilet man didn't take the scroll he so much wanted, I can only conclude as such. I remember back then. We added pepper and other bitter herbs to his tea. Watching him cough in pain and desperately rush for water was funny. Even more impressive was how he never seemed to learn from his mistakes and kept falling for the same pranks. He was indeed a fascinating specimen but eventually, we got tired of him as his reactions became predictable. I wonder if he did that so that we can leave him alone. Beating an unresponsive dog is no fun, maybe he understood that and knew we would eventually leave him alone if he was boring enough.

"Who cares? Right now, he's already gone," I don't know if I imagined it, but I could see a trace of worry flash Hong Lin's face before he expertly hid it.

"Did he escape from the sect?" Did that guy finally snap? He always looked like a miserable man with nothing to lose, yet he clung to life like a leech; not daring to let go.

"Hmm?... Yes, he escaped from the sect," Hong Lin isn't usually this flustered and inattentive. At this point, he would have cracked a perverted joke making everyone uncomfortable. There must be something he isn't saying.  

"Did he start cultivating?" I ignore the absent-minded look he has and ask the most pressing issue. There's no way that bag of bones, excuse of a man, could beat me in a fight unless he had already entered the cultivation journey. Not to brag, but I have settled a fair share of scuffles using my trusty hands; both adults and kids my age have suffered my wrath. I might be fifteen years old, but I doubt a mortal could best me in open combat.

Hong Lin nodded absent-mindedly to my question, confusing me to no end. Did the writings lie? I have read a fair share of scripts and books about cultivation, and I'm sure somewhere; I came across a text explaining how starting cultivation at over thirty is harder than swimming up a waterfall. I could estimate the toilet man's age to be at least in the early thirties, but it seems I was wrong.

The toilet man aside, a worry creeps into my mind. If the toilet man attacked us to quell his revenge, then what about the others? I'm sure quite a number of people bear deep-seated resentment against our group. What if they suddenly gain strength enough to counter us?

I shrug the stubborn thoughts away. What happened with the toilet man is an anomaly. His very existence itself was an anomaly. I then look at Hong Lin. I can see dark bags under his eyes.

"Why don't you go and sleep?" I don't want to think he staked the night to watch over me, as that will make me feel bad for not giving him equal attention.

"Wake me up later," he stands up with a yawn and heads to his room. 

Left alone, I start to examine the wounds in my body. There's a bandage wrapped around my stomach. I unwrap it to reveal my fair skin, not a scar in sight... just how it should be. I am delighted at the absence of ugly scars in my body. If I were to get a scar, I would prefer it to be after a tough battle. Not a one-sided beating.

Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps jerks me out of my thoughts. Isn't he sleeping? I thought it was Hong Lin coming back, but once the door opened. I was proved otherwise.

Struggling to carry a wooden pail of water, Zhu Ling, the self-proclaimed maid, enters my room. A smile creeps on my face seeing her cute antics. Her hair is black, unlike Hong Lin's red one. I'm comparing the two since they have the same hairstyle of neatly tying them behind their heads. Now you understand how Hong Lin can be easily confused as a female.

"My cute Ling'er, how are you unable to carry a pail of water?" At some point, she got tired of carrying the bucket and outrightly started to drag it. I don't know where the sect master got her from, but I'm surely fond of her.

"Young master... you're awake?" My voice startles her, and she talks to me amidst panting. Now I'm genuinely concerned about how heavy the bucket is. I mean, is it filled with rocks or something?

"Young master, I thought you would leave me," she suddenly rushes towards me. I have a bad premonition about this. Sure enough, as she hugs me. I grit my teeth and brace the sudden pain. I can't show weakness here. I endure the hug, and she doesn't even realize it.

"Zhu Ling, I'm all right. How can I die before marrying you?" The only way I can get out of this is to tease her. She blushes at my words and releases me from her grip.

I breathe a sigh of relief as she walks to the bucket and drags it next to the bed. I get an idea of what she wants to do, but I'm seriously not in the mood for liquids on my body.

"How are the others?" I remember my group of miscreants. I don't care that much for them since our relationship is based on them fawning over me and hoping to get under my umbrella. I should disband the group. After all, very soon, we will start to cultivate.

From what I've read, cultivation is a difficult path that requires diligence and tolerance. I unconsciously start to fiddle with the black and white locket on my chest. The toilet man beating me up can be considered necessary as I'm finally aware of the difference between cultivators and mortals. Initially, my sole motivation to cultivate was the fantastic techniques the senior disciples practice during tournaments but now I want strength to protect my interests from such random attacks. After we open our meridians, we should move to the outer sect where the weakest cultivators are.

"I don't know," Zhu Ling answers as she wets a dry piece of cloth in the water.

"What are you doing?" I ask as she unwraps my bandages revealing some hidden injuries.

"Treating your injuries," she answered and continued with her work. My eyes stray at the basin. The green color of the water tells me it has some herbs mixed in it. Strangely, I don't feel any stinging even as she rubs an open scratch.

*Sigh*

I should let her be, seeing as she struggled to do this for me. I can't disregard her effort now. I let her continue tending my wounds as I think of the future. That toilet man, I will one day pay him back.

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