After Failing to Influence the Protagonist Chapter 72
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Chapter 72.1 The Divine Maiden of Peng Mountain
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Shangyang Peak.
Ji Wuyou opened his eyes.
It felt as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep. He moved his fingers, feeling them cold and stiff. Looking around, he noticed he was lying on a stone bed, which was filled with a chilling air. He tried to speak but found his throat blocked. Ji Wuyou supported his head and slowly got off the bed, standing on the ground with a strange, unreal sensation. He was both thirsty and hungry, so he walked out of the door.
Stepping over the threshold, he felt a slight tug on his calf. At the same time, the bells on the corridor’s eaves rang with a clear sound.
Ding-ling-ling, ding-ling-ling…
Ji Wuyou froze for a moment, his pupils shrinking to a point as memories flooded into his mind like a rushing river.
The morning light shone on his pale and weak face.
The sound of the bells was terrifying, like something from a nightmare.
He made a hoarse and very low sound, in pain, he held onto the pillar and bent down.
At the moment the bells rang, the Shangyang Peak Master already knew. He put down his tasks and hurried over. In the palace corridor, he saw a thin and weak boy curled up on the ground, wearing thin and worn-out clothes, so thin that only his bones remained. His fingers were tightly pressed into his hair.
The Shangyang Peak Master furrowed his brow and walked over, calling out, “Ji Wuyou?”
The old man’s worried voice sounded.
Ji Wuyou suddenly raised his head, his face becoming even thinner. His eyes looked unusually large, surprisingly so, with black pupils containing a layer of tears. The tears were icy cold, and within the depths of his eyes, there was a faint, dark purple glow.
The Shangyang Peak Master was slightly surprised. He knew that Ji Wuyou had changed. During the competition at Yinghui Peak, he was a chubby boy who accidentally stumbled in, his eyes innocent and clueless, always happy when he had food and drink. But now, holding onto the pillar and suddenly lifting his head, the thin and weak boy had a different expression in his eyes.
In one night, he had come to understand the world of people, to know love and hatred.
Ji Wuyou stared fixedly at the old man in front of him, trying to match his identity with the blurred memories from before.
The Shangyang Peak Master sighed and, seeing his guarded appearance, said, “You’ve just woken up, and you’re still adjusting. Come with me for now.”
It was peaceful and warm inside the room, dispelling the cold.
The calming incense burned, and white smoke floated gently in the air.
The Shangyang Peak Master draped a thick coat over Ji Wuyou and sat down. He gently adjusted the charcoal fire on the table and slowly asked, “Do you remember who you are?”
Ji Wuyou was still lost in thought, remaining silent.
The Shangyang Peak Master sighed and said, “You are my disciple, Ji Wuyou of Shangyang Peak.”
Ji Wuyou sat across from him, murmuring each word softly, “Ji Wuyou?”
The Shangyang Peak Master nodded, his gaze filled with compassion and affection. He didn’t say anything further, allowing Ji Wuyou to recollect on his own.
