Chapter 19: The Truth of Bloodline: The Saintess of Medicine Valley’s Discovery

When Shen Yan opened his eyes, his nose was filled with the scent of medicine mixed with the fresh fragrance of bamboo. He wanted to raise his hand to push his glasses, but as soon as his arm moved, his shoulder acupuncture point tingled, like being bitten by a mosquito. Yet that itch traveled along his meridians all the way to the back of his neck, directly pinning him back onto the bed.

“Don’t move recklessly.” Pei Yue’s voice came from beside him, her tone as gentle as when she was brewing medicine last night, yet her words carried no room for negotiation. “Your body is now like paper, even a strong wind could blow holes through it.”

He tilted his head to look. Pei Yue was squatting before a small table fiddling with a jade bottle, its mouth emitting faint blue mist, like the snowflakes floating during the blue screen of an old computer startup. She dipped her fingertip in a bit of blood and lightly smeared it on the bottle wall. The mist suddenly condensed, floating out patterns resembling a galaxy.

Shen Yan’s eyelids twitched—that wasn’t a hallucination; it was his terminal interface flashing on his glasses lens, a line of green text scrolling past: “Detected unregistered vital signs, genetic sequence match over ninety percent, source: Celestial Clan Outcast·Subject A.”

“When did I have a brother?” he muttered inwardly, but dared not speak aloud. That needle earlier was precisely accurate, clearly a sealing technique targeting the Source Code Spiritual Root within his body. Pretending to sleep further would only make him seem more suspicious.

Pei Yue didn’t turn around, her hands continuing their motions, murmuring something like “the spiritual pivot manifests, the Heavenly Dao returns,” sounding exactly like a leader reciting PPT opening remarks at a company annual meeting. She took out a silver needle, pricked her fingertip, a bead of blood emerged, dripping into the jade bottle. Instantly, the galaxy patterns exploded in a ring of light, and half a diagram actually appeared in the air, as if someone had painted half with brush ink and torn it.

At the end of the diagram were two small figures, one labeled “Subject B·Sealed,” the other written “Uncontrolled·Detached.”

Shen Yan stared at that “Subject B,” his head buzzing. He knew who that was—himself.

But the problem was, what about that “Subject A”? Logically, it should have died completely, why was the system still alive?

He was pondering whether to pretend unconsciousness and continue eavesdropping, when suddenly a loud noise came from outside, like a pressure cooker exploding. Immediately afterward, a foul stench crept through the window gap, gray-green mist crawling along the ground, slowly piecing together seven words:

“The game has just begun.”

Pei Yue abruptly closed the jade bottle, the tracing light mirror instantly retracting its glow. She turned and pulled three silver needles from her medicine pouch, pat-pat-pat, all nailed into Shen Yan’s acupuncture points. The last needle pierced his life gate, hurting so much he nearly jumped up.

“Who exactly are you?” She finally turned around, the tip of the silver needle pressing against his carotid artery, cold like an ice spike. “Ordinary people wouldn’t cause the ‘Heaven’s Secret Record’ to automatically flip pages, nor would they make Medicine Valley’s forbidden technique recognize kinship.”

Shen Yan blinked: “What are you saying? I’m just a code writer; last physical exam even showed mild cervical spondylosis.”

“Don’t play games.” Pei Yue sneered. “Your blood contains spiritual pivot particles, that’s the mark of Celestial Clan bloodline activation. Throughout the Three Realms, only the ‘Heaven’s Secret Holder’ exiled a thousand years ago has this characteristic. And you…” She paused, lowering her voice. “Your heartbeat frequency completely matches the ‘Subject B’ recorded in ancient texts.”

Shen Yan’s heart shook.

He still remembered the operating table from last night’s dream, and that phrase “twin spiritual roots separation successful.” Turns out it wasn’t a hallucination; it was memory fragments surfacing.

He gave a dry laugh. “So you’re saying I’m actually some big shot’s backup USB drive? The pre-installed kind?”

Pei Yue didn’t respond, just stared at him, her gaze as if judging whether a piece of code contained a virus.

Outside, alarm sounds rose and fell, and the footsteps of guards grew closer. She withdrew the silver needle, quickly cleaned up all traces, and finally glanced at Shen Yan. “If I reported this to the sect, you’d be thrown into the dungeon right now. But I didn’t.”

Shen Yan grinned. “Thank you for your mercy, Saintess.”

“I’m not doing it for you,” Pei Yue said coldly. “I’m doing it for Medicine Valley. If you’re the ‘Heaven’s Secret Holder,’ then this tribulation will come sooner or later. I just want to know if the one moving the pieces includes you.”

With that, she turned to leave.

“Wait,” Shen Yan suddenly spoke up. “Why did Xie Wujiu’s body explode? Wasn’t he already dead?”

Pei Yue paused mid-step. “The dead don’t write. Only two kinds of people can manipulate soul-devouring powder to reconstruct consciousness—evil cultivators who have mastered high-level curses, or… those who can alter the rules of life and death.”

Shen Yan touched the scar on his neck, thinking: Isn’t that just like forcibly overwriting a system with a hot update?

Before he could ponder further, a flash of purple caught the corner of his eye outside the window. Luo Li leaned against the eaves, her tail swaying gently, holding a shattered silver bell in her hand.

She didn’t enter, just looked at Shen Yan through the window lattice, then moved her lips slightly, sending a secret voice transmission:

“The demon power residue in your body is still fluctuating. Don’t think changing the seal will fool everyone. That scythe didn’t cut you—it cut your initiation sequence. If it deletes it directly next time, I won’t kick anyone to save you again.”

Shen Yan smiled bitterly. “Then at least kick a little lighter. Last time, you almost broke my ribs.”

Luo Li snorted, her figure gradually fading into the bamboo forest.

Left alone in the room, he lay there, hands and feet bound by sealing spells, unable to move. He tried to activate the terminal, but as soon as the interface lit up, a red warning popped up:

“Identity recognition risk level elevated. Core program entering silent mode.”

“So I’m in standby mode now?” he muttered to himself. “Even restarting requires approval?”

Just as he spoke, a series of footsteps sounded outside the door, light as if stepping on cotton candy. Then, the door was pushed open a crack, and Yu Xiaotang peeked in with half her head, clutching a half-melted strawberry candy in her hand.

“Shh—” She raised a finger. “I sneaked in to see you! They all say you’re possessed and want to burn you with talisman fire to exorcise the demon!”

Shen Yan rolled his eyes. “Who said that?”

“Elder Xie!” Yu Xiaotang squeezed in, closing the door behind her. “But I think you’re pretty normal. At most, you’ve just fried your brain a bit from writing too much code.”

As she spoke, she pulled out a talisman paper from her cosmic bag. On it was a crooked little figure holding a phone, with a line written below: “Running. Do not power off.”

“This is my newly researched ‘Life-Saving Talisman: Programmer Special Edition.’ It’s for you!” She grinned and stuck it on his chest.

As soon as the talisman paper touched him, Shen Yan felt a warmth in his chest, and the chaotic spiritual energy inside him began to slowly settle. He looked at Yu Xiaotang in surprise. “This talisman of yours… how does it even have a debug function?”

“Of course!” Yu Xiaotang proudly lifted her chin. “I’m the first to combine Talisman Dao with programming! This is called ‘Recursive Call · Emotion Enhancement Type,’ specifically designed to deal with humanoid bug generators like you.”

Shen Yan was about to ask another question when his body suddenly stiffened—the Terminal Interface flashed again, this time displaying three words:

Permission Change

Immediately afterward, he felt a slight tremor in his Source Code Spiritual Root within him, as if something had quietly connected to his System.

He snapped his gaze toward Yu Xiaotang. “Did your Talisman Spell… tamper with my underlying Interface?”

Yu Xiaotang blinked, feigning innocence. “Not at all. I just added an automatic Repair Module and slipped in a remote wake-up Command… Oh, right, in case you die, I can revive you with one click!”

Shen Yan nearly choked. “Is this saving my life or hijacking me?!”

“Of course, it’s for your own good!” Yu Xiaotang patted his shoulder. “See, you’re breathing much more smoothly now!”

Indeed, the oppressive feeling from the Seal had lessened considerably. But he also knew this meant his System was no longer entirely private—someone could now remotely access his Core Program.

He closed his eyes helplessly. “What did I ever do to deserve this, with everyone patching me up one after another…”

Before he could finish, a sudden chill touched his neck.

Pei Yue had returned unnoticed, a Silver Needle hovering just above his skin, its tip shimmering with an eerie blue glow.

“There are three foreign Energy sources within you,” she said quietly. “Demon Power, Talisman Spell, and… a Code Flow that doesn’t belong to this world. They’re eroding each other.”

Shen Yan opened his eyes, meeting her cool gaze.

“So what? Are you going to delete me like a Virus?”

Pei Yue fell silent for a moment before withdrawing the Silver Needle.

“I won’t delete you,” she said. “But I need to know, when the Program within you finally Initiates, will you choose to execute the Command, or… Rewrite the Rules?”

Shen Yan smiled faintly, his voice soft. “What do you think? I’m a Programmer, after all.”

(End of Chapter)