(First Person POV — Lu Shen)
Rain lashed down in sheets, turning the forest floor into a battlefield of mud and shadows. My boots slipped on the soaked leaves as I stumbled forward, gasping for breath. The air smelled like iron and wet bark, sharp enough to sting the back of my throat.
"Yan Yezhen!" I shouted, my voice cracking over the storm. "Hey! Don't you dare pass out now!"
Up ahead, a flash of movement. Through the downpour, I caught sight of him — pale robes torn, soaked through, hair plastered to his face. He looked barely human, half-dead, gripping a blood-slick axe like it was the only thing keeping him upright.
Then his knees gave out.
"Shit—"
I didn't think. My feet just moved. I ran, heart hammering so loud I couldn't hear anything but the sound of rain hitting earth.
He fell forward just as I reached him, and I caught him before he hit the ground. The impact nearly took me down too. He was so light — too light — and cold. Gods, he was freezing.
"Hey, hey, come on—" I hissed, kneeling down with him in my arms. "Don't do this to me, man."
His head lolled against my shoulder. His skin felt like ice under my fingers, his breath shallow. Even through the blood and grime, he looked unreal — long lashes, sharp features, lips trembling with the faintest sound.
It would've been poetic if it weren't so terrifying.
And then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit me.
I remembered this scene.
"Oh no. No, no, no, no…" I muttered, horror crawling up my spine. "Not this part. Not the rain scene."
Because I knew what came next. This was the moment — the one that broke Yan Yezhen. The one that twisted him from a naïve, kindhearted disciple into the cold, ruthless Heavenly Lord who burned Lin Feng's sect to ashes in the final arc.
And me? I was Lin Feng's stupid best friend.
"Fantastic," I croaked. "I just speedran my own death flag."
The sound of footsteps splashing through mud reached me. "Young Master Lin!" Sun Yang's voice, trembling. "Is he—?"
"Still breathing," I cut her off. "Help me. We're taking him back now."
She hesitated. "But the Sect Master—"
"Sun Yang, I swear on my next reincarnation, if you don't move right now—"
That did it. She stumbled after me as I lifted Yan Yezhen into my arms. He felt weightless, fragile, like holding glass. The rain drenched us both as I half-ran, half-slid through the forest path toward the sect compound.
By the time we burst through the gates, servants and disciples were staring, whispering.
"Isn't that the outer disciple from the northern training field?"
"What happened to him?"
"Why is Young Master Lin carrying him?"
I ignored them all. My only focus was the faint rise and fall of Yan Yezhen's chest.
We crashed into my courtyard. I kicked the door open and laid him down on the bed, water dripping from my sleeves onto the floor.
"Get the healers!" I barked. "Now!"
Sun Yang didn't even answer — she just ran like her robe was on fire.
I pressed a hand against his neck, feeling for a pulse. It was there, faint but steady. His lips moved, a whisper barely audible through the rain still pounding outside.
"…Lin Feng?"
The name made me flinch. He still thought I was Lin Feng — his senior brother, the same man who would later betray him. I swallowed hard. "Yeah, it's me. Don't talk. You're safe now, alright?"
He made a soft sound that might've been a laugh or a cough — then went limp again.
Panic flared in my chest. "No, no, no, don't do that—hey!"
The door banged open. The healers rushed in, robes fluttering, faces pale as they took one look at the scene. One of them knelt beside Yan Yezhen and pressed glowing fingers to his wrist.
"His internal injuries are severe," he murmured. "Meridians torn, qi flow unstable. If we act now, we can stabilize him, but…"
"But what?" I snapped.
The older healer hesitated, glancing at me like he was debating how suicidal he felt. "To fully mend his inner core, we'll need a three-hundred-year-old ginseng root."
I blinked. "Then get it."
The man's expression twisted. "With all due respect, Young Master, such a treasure is reserved for—"
"Reserved for what?" I hissed. "For people who don't almost die in a forest?"
He flinched. "For core disciples. This boy is merely—"
"Bring it," I said flatly. "Or I swear I'll use you as the offering instead."
That did it. They bowed and scrambled out like their lives depended on it. Which, honestly, they might have.
As the door slammed shut behind them, silence flooded the room. Only the steady patter of rain against the roof remained.
I sat down beside the bed, elbows on my knees, and exhaled shakily.
"Why the hell am I doing this?" I muttered. "He's supposed to hate me, not… owe me his life."
I rubbed a hand over my face, exhaustion pressing down like a weight. My soaked robe clung to my skin, cold and heavy.
That was when the familiar metallic voice chimed in my head.
> Ding! Congratulations, Host! You have witnessed the first major plot event: Protagonist's Near-Death and Bloodline Awakening!
Reward: +50 Affection Points!
I froze. "…Affection points? Are you serious right now? He's literally dying, and you're out here giving me a dating app notification?"
> Progress acknowledged! The Host has successfully prevented premature death. Well done!
"Well done?!" I hissed. "You could've warned me this would happen! I just spent the last thirty minutes sprinting through a thunderstorm with a dying protagonist in my arms! How is that a win?"
> Please remain calm, Host. The System will assist you in—
"No, you won't! You have zero priorities!"
> Host agitation detected. Error. System unavailable.
And then — silence.
I stared at the ceiling. "…Oh, great. Even the system ghosted me."
For a while, I just sat there, listening to the rain and Yan Yezhen's shallow breathing. My wet hair stuck to my forehead, my body shivering, but I couldn't bring myself to move.
Every time I looked at him, I saw the same image burned into my mind — the future him, standing atop a mountain of corpses, eyes cold and merciless.
Except now, he just looked… young. Vulnerable. Mortal.
"Damn it," I muttered under my breath. "Why do you have to look like that? Makes it really hard to hate you properly."
Hours passed. The healers returned, carrying the ancient ginseng root wrapped in silk. I didn't even ask where they found it — I didn't want to know. They worked quietly, channeling energy into Yan Yezhen's body, pressing seals over his chest and forehead.
I watched everything, silent and tense, until one of them finally said, "The treatment is complete. He should regain consciousness by morning."
I nodded. "Leave us."
They bowed and withdrew.
Once the door closed, I slumped back into the chair beside his bed, staring at the flickering candlelight. My whole body ached, but I couldn't stop watching the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest.
For the first time since arriving in this ridiculous novel world, I didn't feel like laughing.
Instead, I felt… scared. Because for all my sarcastic complaining, this wasn't just a story anymore. I wasn't a reader safe behind a screen. Every choice I made was changing things — and I had no idea what the consequences would be.
The rain finally began to fade outside. The rhythm softened, leaving only the distant rumble of thunder. I must've dozed off at some point because when I opened my eyes, the moon was high and silver light filled the room.
Something moved.
I straightened instantly. Yan Yezhen's fingers twitched, his lashes fluttering. Then, slowly, his eyes opened.
For a second, I forgot how to breathe.
His eyes —
They were blue.
Not just any blue. A deep, glacial blue that didn't belong in this world. Everyone else had dark eyes — black, brown, at most amber — but his were clear as ice, piercing straight through me.
I'd read about this in the novel. The Awakening of the Frostblood Lineage. But seeing it up close made my skin crawl and my heart skip a beat at the same time.
He blinked a few times, dazed. His lips parted. "…Lin Feng?"
I exhaled shakily. "Yeah. You're awake."
He looked at me like he was trying to focus, his brow furrowing faintly. "You… saved me?"
I hesitated. "Technically, yes. Though the system would argue I only did it for the points."
"What?" he whispered.
"Nothing. Just—don't move, alright? You're half-dead. Again."
His gaze didn't leave mine. Even half-conscious, there was something sharp about him, like a blade under silk. Then he whispered, "Why?"
I blinked. "Why what?"
"Why… help me?"
Because if I didn't, the timeline would collapse and I'd die horribly.
Because the idea of watching you die made something twist in my chest.
Because maybe, just maybe, I'm not as heartless as the original Lin Feng was.
But I didn't say any of that. I just shrugged weakly. "Because I felt like it. Don't read too much into it, hero."
His eyes softened for the briefest second. Then they fluttered shut again.
The room fell silent.
I leaned back, running a hand through my damp hair, and muttered to myself, "Right. Step one: don't die. Step two: somehow seduce the man who's destined to hate me forever. Great plan, Lu Shen. Absolutely flawless."
Outside, thunder rolled one last time.
Inside, the boy who would one day become a god lay asleep, his pulse steady, his breathing calm.
And for the first time since transmigrating, I let my eyes close too — listening to the rain fade into silence, wondering what kind of storm I had just unleashed.