After Constantly Courting Death, I Became the White Moonlight - Chapter 19

When He Zhi Zhou woke, the sky was just beginning to lighten.

The rain that had poured all night had finally ceased. Through the gaps between the overlapping mountains, a faint glimmer of dawn shone—misty and pale. The rain-soaked peaks appeared more lush and vibrant than ever, emerald green and dripping with life. A lone birdcall pierced the morning silence, ushering in the first blush of sunrise.

Master Mingkong’s Vajra Barrier hovered like a colossal umbrella overhead, emanating a bright, unmistakable Buddhist light that enveloped everyone present.

Many cultivators were still fast asleep, scattered about the area—some lying down, others slumped against boulders. Apart from He Zhi Zhou, only two others were awake, sitting side by side and seemingly deep in discussion.

It was Mingkong and Xu Ye.

He Zhi Zhou crept closer, trying to catch their conversation.

Mingkong spoke in a low voice. “Changyue Peak lies deep within Little Zhongshan. Beyond it lies the endless ocean. Perhaps it’s precisely this unique terrain that allowed a sacred-grade spirit plant—the Silverthread Immortal Leaf—to flourish here.”

Xu Ye nodded in understanding. “So that’s why everyone came—for the Silverthread Immortal Leaf. But none of us expected a mysterious Xuan Bird to guard the place, refusing to let anyone pass. That’s when you erected the Vajra Barrier to keep us safe.”

He had done his homework before entering Little Zhongshan, so he already knew a thing or two about Changyue Peak.

Like the Tianxin Grass, the Silverthread Immortal Leaf was a rare treasure of heaven and earth—encountered only by chance. Though many were aware it grew within Changyue Peak, no one had ever gotten their hands on it. For years, a massive Xuan Bird had circled above the peak, preventing any cultivator from drawing near. As a result, the Silverthread Immortal Leaf remained untouched.

“Sacred-grade spiritual plants contain immense spiritual energy,” Mingkong explained gently. “The Xuan Bird may be guarding the Silverthread Immortal Leaf not out of loyalty, but to absorb its essence and aid its own cultivation.”

He lowered his eyes. The morning sun cast soft crimson rays across his long lashes. “Its strength is immeasurable. Even if we joined forces, we’d likely still lose.”

…Not that teaming up with you would make much of a difference, thought He Zhi Zhou. Master, all you know is one move—your Vajra Barrier.

Scratching his messy bedhead, He Zhi Zhou yawned and inserted himself into the conversation. “So what now? Are we just supposed to sit here and wait for the secret realm to close and boot us out automatically?”

Xu Ye gave him a complicated look. “The Xuan Bird has freakishly sharp hearing and smell—it can even sense the spiritual energy inside living beings. If we step outside, it’ll spot us immediately. But…” He paused and looked at Mingkong. “Master Mingkong told me something else.”

Mingkong met his gaze and smiled faintly. “There’s one thing I didn’t mention earlier.”

He Zhi Zhou’s instincts immediately went on alert.

Mingkong continued, “My spiritual power is limited. This Vajra Barrier… can only last for two more hours at most.”

He Zhi Zhou sucked in a sharp breath. “So we’re gonna turn into grilled skewers for the Xuan Bird in two hours?!”

“If it were just protecting one person, the barrier could last a lot longer,” Xu Ye added with a frown. “But Master Mingkong spread its power thin to protect all of us, which drained his strength much faster.”

In other words, Mingkong had the chance to save himself—but chose instead to share that safety with a group of strangers.

Once the Vajra Barrier fell, he’d be left with barely any spiritual energy. Even if they tried to run, he’d be the last one out—and likely wouldn’t make it.

He Zhi Zhou had initially thought this little monk was just some unreliable chatterbox, but now his heart gave a heavy thump. “This won’t do! No way! You—just let us out! Are you seriously planning to recreate and Then There Were None?!”

Mingkong smiled gently. “I’ve already told you, violence is meaningless. Compassion is the way. I cultivate the Vajra Body to protect the world, to stop killing before it begins. If I can use this last bit of strength to give everyone a sliver of hope… then my path as a Buddhist is complete.”

He shook his head with a smile. “To endure hardship, to bear the burden, to never waver in one’s heart, and to move forward without fear—life and death are powerless against such resolve.”

Xu Ye blinked, a bit stunned. “…Uh, Master, what does that even mean?”

Mingkong’s smile froze.

Then he cleared his throat and blurted, “I had raw cabbage yesterday. It tasted surprisingly good. Are you two hungry?”

What a hard pivot! And such an awkward one too!

He Zhi Zhou finally understood—this guy might look like a literary monk, but he clearly didn’t understand any Buddhist texts. The fancy quotes he spouted were just random lines he happened to remember—he had no clue what they actually meant.

Three seconds ago, he had thought Mingkong was kinda cool. What a fool he was. Truly.

“This won’t do.”

Xu Ye tightened his grip on the sword at his waist, brows furrowed. “I’ve already made up my mind. Once the barrier falls, I’ll rush out first and distract the Xuan Bird. You two escape while you can. Don’t worry about me.”

As he spoke, he handed He Zhi Zhou a folded piece of paper.

It was a will.

On the outside, written in huge, dramatic characters: Tenth Draft of My Last Will and Testament.

Below it, scrawled in messy, chicken-scratch script:

“Senior Sister Su, don’t be sad. Even though I’m gone, I’ll always be with you. When you’re alone at night, look behind you. You might see my shadow keeping you company.”

He Zhi Zhou: “…”

Bro, is this a love letter or a horror story? “Even in death, I’ll haunt you”? Just how much do you hate this Senior Sister Su that you’re leaving her a ghost story in your will?!

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But just as he was accepting the letter, Mingkong suddenly spoke again.

“There’s no need to be so pessimistic. One cannot attain enlightenment in comfort. Until the very last moment, who knows if a new opportunity might appear?”

Xu Ye froze. “…An opportunity?”

The young monk lifted his long lashes. The sunlight lit up his black eyes, reflecting a flash of white in the sky.

“There it is.”

The two sword cultivators beside him looked up—and both gasped in unison.

He Zhi Zhou whispered, “Ning Ning…”

A dazzling beam of sword light approached from the distance, brighter than the morning sun tearing through nightfall.

A young woman leapt from the sword, pausing in surprise when she saw them. “Why are you two here? Weren’t we supposed to meet by the river where we said we’d eat fish?”

“I—I’m not afraid of heights—”

Wait. Something was wrong.

He Zhi Zhou suddenly cut off his own words and looked up instinctively.

The Xuan Bird’s senses were terrifyingly sharp. When he and Xu Ye had first arrived, the creature had spotted them almost immediately.

Now Ning Ning had flown in completely unguarded—and it was broad daylight…

That beast would be on its way in no time.

Xu Ye clearly realized the same and immediately lowered his voice. “Be careful! There’s a man-eating Xuan Bird nearby. It probably already knows you’re here!”

Ning Ning tilted her head and looked up at the sky.

All she saw was a sleepy expanse of clouds. The wind hadn’t even woken yet. The stillness was eerie—as if time itself had paused.

“Did you bring a sacred spirit plant with you?” Mingkong asked, his expression calm.

When she nodded, he offered a gentle explanation. “The Xuan Bird senses the spiritual energy in living beings. That’s how it found us. But a sacred-grade spirit plant gives off a stronger aura than any cultivator—completely masking the one who carries it. To the bird, you’re just another flower among many.”

He Zhi Zhou’s eyes lit up. “A camouflage suit!”

Xu Ye exhaled in relief. “Why did you come here? What happened in the Ancient Wood Sea?”

He had felt guilty ever since He Zhi Zhou had dragged him to safety. Seeing Ning Ning alive and well let him finally breathe easy.

“The Ten-Thousand-Year Dragon Blood Tree was corrupted by demonic energy,” Ning Ning said simply. “But Pei Ji dealt with it.”

She added, “He forcefully broke through his sea of consciousness to awaken his potential. Now… things don’t look good. Senior Sister Su Qinghan said the Silverthread Immortal Leaf can save him.”

“Senior Sister Su?” Xu Ye’s eyes lit up. “You saw her? Where is she now? Didn’t she come with you?”

“She’s with Pei Ji.”

At the memory, Ning Ning’s gaze dimmed slightly.

When she had been blindfolded by demonic mist, all she could hear was the roar of wind and the sound of swords howling like dragons. The air reeked of blood and iron. When the mist finally dispersed, a bone-chilling shriek pierced her eardrums.

As that cry echoed, the blood-red haze of the forest began to fade—revealing the familiar soft green of the woods beneath.

The blood mist receded. Every ridge and fold on the Dragon Blood Tree’s bark was split wide open, oozing thick, crimson sap. The once-violent vines drooped lifelessly. The trapped disciples fell to the ground one by one.

And at the tree’s base, Pei Ji stood motionless—his body drenched in blood, his black robes soaked through.

His organs had likely been ruptured, his meridians torn. He remained standing only because of the sword wedged into the demon core beside him.

Ning Ning still didn’t understand why Pei Ji had blindfolded her.

But Senior Sister Su had said, It’s a blessing you didn’t see it. Otherwise, she’d be haunted by nightmares for days.

The face on the tree bark had twisted in fury. The vines and blood mist surged toward Pei Ji like a tsunami. His eyes and mouth bled as he stood there, terrifying and broken.

No matter what, that strange mutation—so far removed from the original story—was finally resolved.

But the one who resolved it… might not survive.

Aside from severe internal injuries, the demonic energy within him had suddenly surged after that incident, overtaking most of his body.

For righteous cultivators, their bodies were filled with pure spiritual energy, and Pei Ji was no exception.

Unfortunately, spiritual energy and demonic energy were completely incompatible. When forced to coexist in the same body, they clashed violently—causing a pain not unlike one’s bones and blood vessels being slowly ripped apart and crushed. An ordinary person wouldn’t last a second under such agony.

Yet Pei Ji grit his teeth and endured it. His face was pale as paper, but he stubbornly held on. When Ningning cautiously approached, he rasped out in a hoarse, trembling voice, “Don’t worry about me. Step aside.”

Heaven only knew how much effort it took for him to utter that single sentence. And even though the words weren’t exactly friendly, no one could get angry at him.

The Heartcalm Herb in Ningning’s hand was good for curing illnesses, removing poison, and nurturing spirit beasts—but it had no effect whatsoever on demonic energy. After pondering for a moment, Su Qinghan spoke, “If you can find the naturally celestial Silverthread Immortal Leaf, there might be a chance to reverse this.”

So, after a brief discussion, it was decided that Su Qinghan would stay behind in the forest to care for Pei Ji, while Ningning would travel alone to Changyue Peak in search of the legendary leaf.

“If you carry the Heartcalm Herb and know how to hide yourself well,” said Mingkong after hearing the story, nodding with a smile, “then perhaps you really might be able to get your hands on the Silverthread Immortal Leaf.”

“To brave such danger for the sake of a fellow disciple… If I were a dead little deer in this mountain, I’d surely come back to life from the sheer depth of your friendship.”

He Zhi Zhou glanced sideways at him, expressionless.

This guy was supposed to be a Buddhist monk, right? He should just be called Schrödinger’s Fawn. Alive, dead, alive again, endlessly reincarnating.

Truly… a quantum monk.

As the group continued talking, Mingkong’s fingers suddenly twitched. He lowered his voice: “The Mystic Bird is approaching. Benefactor Ning, you must hide quickly. Here—I have a map of Changyue Peak, marked with the location of the immortal leaf. Take it.”

Ningning nodded, thanked him, and slipped into the brush nearby.

Just as Mingkong predicted, the Mystic Bird fluttered gracefully into view. Seeing that the Vajra Barrier was still intact, it let out a low, dissatisfied grunt.

It had only intended to take a quick look and leave—but then something caught its attention. Its amber-orange pupils narrowed sharply, and its fiery tail swished behind it.

Then it sniffed the air… and slowly moved one claw to the right.

Right in the direction where Ningning was hiding.

The group, barely hanging on themselves, would be doomed if the Mystic Bird spotted her.

He Zhi Zhou’s heart leapt into his throat. Only then did he remember—

Right. Ningning had given two leaves away earlier, so her Heartcalm Herb… was only half a portion!

With only two leaves left, the spiritual aura shielding her was much weaker. It couldn’t fully mask her own.

As the Mystic Bird took slow, deliberate steps toward the bushes she was hiding in, He Zhi Zhou took a deep breath and suddenly shouted—

“Wait!”

The Mystic Bird turned its head with a cold glance, but within moments, looked away again and kept walking.

To a high-level spirit beast like this, a mere Golden Core cultivator was no different from grass on the roadside. Even if a wildflower brushed against your ankle while walking, would you bother to notice?

Panicking, He Zhi Zhou gritted his teeth and raised his voice further:

“Don’t go! I—I’m actually from the Xuanxu Sword Sect… I’m—uh—I’m Elder Tianxianzi!”

The Mystic Bird paused ever so slightly.

Seeing this, He Zhi Zhou pressed the advantage. “I was gravely injured during the Immortal-Demon War and lost most of my cultivation. But now, I’m nearly recovered! Once I restore my power, I’ll dominate the cultivation world! Just don’t hurt us—I’ll credit you for a great merit and reward you with countless treasures in the future!”

Outside the Celestial Mirror, Tianxianzi nearly choked on an osmanthus cake, eyes rolling back as he coughed.

That speech was outrageous.

The Mystic Bird hadn’t heard of internet scams before—like “I am Qin Shi Huang, send me money”—so it tilted its head curiously and studied him closely.

It had heard of Tianxianzi, even from deep within the secret realm. The boy in front of it did resemble the famous elder a bit. Still, it narrowed its eyes and asked, “Child, do you have any proof?”

He Zhi Zhou thought for a second and pulled out his patched-up bundle. “This is my travel bag. Used it for five years.”

He lifted his robe to reveal a bare vine tied around his waist. “This is my belt. Been using it for half a year.”

Finally, he opened the bundle to reveal crookedly embroidered words: “Hang in there. Don’t die broke.”

The moment those words were read, Qu Feiqing outside the mirror snorted aloud with laughter.

A wave of laughter erupted from the audience.

“Ridiculous! Is that what I look like?!” roared Tianxianzi, leaping to his feet. “Do I give off that kind of image?!”

Outrage filled him—but back inside the realm, the Mystic Bird’s eyes widened in disbelief: “You really are Tianxianzi!”

Tianxianzi: …

While the bird was still in shock, He Zhi Zhou exchanged a glance with Ningning hiding in the brush, motioning for her to slip away and search for the immortal leaf while he distracted it.

After arriving in this world, He Zhi Zhou had never forgotten—he used to be an actor.

A rather dramatic one at that. With striking looks, he always got cast in romance dramas.

And he knew well—what better way to capture a woman’s attention than a passionate love story?

He had waited long enough. It was time to show them what he could do—with talent, with wit, and with the full glory of a 21st-century actor.

Don’t worry, Ningning. This bird… won’t be flying anywhere today.

“I came here seeking rare spiritual herbs to heal my old wounds,” he whispered, instructing Mingkong to remove the Vajra Barrier from his body. Despite his shaking knees, he took a step forward. “But I never imagined… I’d meet you.”

“Does one need a reason to fall in love? Do they? Don’t they? Do they?”
(—This was A Chinese Odyssey)

The plot was so absurd, the Mystic Bird looked visibly confused.

But He Zhi Zhou kept going. “Once in a lifetime, we meet someone who makes us forget ourselves. We don’t seek results. We don’t need to walk the same path. We don’t even need to be loved back. It’s enough… that we met in our best years.”
(—That one’s from The Notebook)

“Snap out of it,” the Mystic Bird finally replied, frowning. “You’re human, I’m a spirit beast. We’re from different worlds.”

He Zhi Zhou chuckled lowly, his voice smooth as wine.

Inside and outside the mirror, everyone heard him say,
“What if… I’m exactly into that?”

Another wave of unrestrained laughter broke out.

Tianxianzi clenched his fists.

The Mystic Bird’s wings stirred slightly.

Then, in a gust of wind, its massive body vanished—replaced by a beautiful woman in crimson robes, her expression playful.

“To think the famous Elder Tianxianzi is such a charming young man,” she said, tilting up his chin with a slender finger. “I’ve been single for many years and just so happen to like younger men. I was thinking of getting myself a new child recently… Since you’re interested, why don’t we try it together?”

He Zhi Zhou, still clinging to his role, thought: Well… at least I’m still a pretty boy.

Hopefully, I don’t die as a pretty corpse.

“You want a child?” he asked, smile twitching as the woman leaned closer and alarm bells blared in his head. Still, in the spirit of “The Actor’s Self-Cultivation,” he recited:
“That’s easy! In fact, how about I give you one right now?”

Even the Mystic Bird froze. “Right now?”

“RIGHT NOW?!”

A half-asleep demon cultivator nearby paled instantly, trembling with respect.
What did I just wake up to…?

Outside, one of the female cultivators blushed and looked away. “No wonder the Xuanxu Sword Sect is so famous…”

Someone else murmured in awe, “To stall for time, he’s willing to go this far… What incredible courage. I’m impressed.”

Silence gradually fell.

Dozens of eyes, inside and outside the mirror, watched as the man and the spirit beast slowly drew closer.

They saw He Zhi Zhou suddenly throw his arms around the red-clad woman.

Then he opened his mouth and cried, “Mama!”

A beat passed.

Then louder: “Xianxian’s hungry! Xianxian wants food! Wahhh!”

Mystic Bird: …

There was no expression that could describe the look on her face anymore—multicolored darkness, perhaps?

Tianxianzi: …

His face resembled the time he got scammed out of a hundred thousand spirit stones and had to survive on watermelon rinds and pumpkin peels.

“Elder Tianxianzi,” Qu Feiqing wheezed with laughter, clinging to her chair, “Could your sect… maybe have fewer actors than you have silver coins?”

Before she could finish, someone shouted, “Look! The Mystic Bird transformed back and flew off!”

“Did… did that little Daoist actually disgust a high-level spirit beast into fleeing?”

“Looks like the bird isn’t a fan of fried drama. Tsk.”

“Wait a moment.”

Only He Xiaochen, the sect master of Liuming Mountain, visibly tensed, his expression turning serious. He leaned forward slightly, trying to get a clearer look at the image in the Mystic Mirror.

“Judging by the path that Xuan Bird just took… it’s heading straight for the Immortal Leaf. Doesn’t that mean… it’s going to run right into Ningning?”