Ch1 – Enter the Savage Wasteland

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Translator and editor: transcendent.wings

Xu Ping opened his eyes. 

A curtain of darkness so dense that it couldn’t be dissolved surrounded him and a strange fishy taste had seeped all the way down his throat.

He wasn’t lying on the bed that he usually slept on.

 

 

Xu Ping stretched out a hand to fumble around beneath him and his palm came up wet.
Unexpectedly, he was lying in a shallow pool of ice-cold water.
The pool was only half a finger deep, yet it was still bone-chilling cold and the tactile sensation felt real, not at all like a dream.

Swoosh— 

A blinding light as white as a flock of sheep suddenly flashed in front of Xu Ping’s eyes, piercing them until they throbbed in pain.
As he raised a hand to block the light, a feeble voice filtered through: “.
.
.
You came.”

 

A dagger fell in front of him as a crisp danglang rang out and that male voice weak to the extent that it seemed as if it was diluted by water sounded again: “You must kill him.”

Xu Ping: “.
.
.
Who?”

The male voice replied: “Meng Chongguang.”

 

Xu Ping had a splitting headache, he honestly couldn’t make sense of what exactly was going on right now.

He only felt that “Meng Chongguang” this name was very familiar, only he had forgotten where he had heard it from before.

He decided to refine his questions in order to get a more detailed answer: “Who are you?”

The male voice stated: “I am the Only Consciousness of the Three Realms.” 

Xu Ping: “.
.
.
.
.”

Based on the way the voice sounded, this Only Consciousness of the Three Realms guy was probably afflicted with tuberculosis, the terminal kind.
If he doesn’t seize the chance to get an answer out of him now, perhaps in a little while he might just croak and then it would be too late.

Xu Ping endured his headache and just when he was just about to open his mouth to press for a straight answer, his voice became clumped up like a wad of cotton, stuffed up in the middle of his throat.

.
.
.
He remembered who Meng Chongguang was now. 

In the eyes of neighbors and other such outsiders, Xu Ping was perverted, weird, an aberration, a maverick, a heretical deviant, someone who loved to make eyes at any girl, read any kind of book, associate with any type of person.
He was unrestrained and arbitrary, happily living as he pleased, often pulling a neat trick out of his hat to earn a pretty penny.

When his pockets were full, he would splurge just to listen to a single verse; when he was poor, he didn’t feel sad either.
Worse comes to worst he’ll just amuse himself by transforming coal into gold.

Luckily for him, his family spoiled him excessively, indulging him to act unbridled all day long.

One day when Xu Ping was especially bored, he had read a few more novellas, which piqued his interest to write a little something of his own as well. 

And Meng Chongguang was precisely the villain that Xu Ping had stylized in his unfinished manuscript.
Beautiful and unparalleled, wicked and merciless.

Come to think of it, it was also a strange coincidence that Meng Chongguang, this name, had made its appearance in his dreams first.
At that time when Xu Ping woke up, his body was completely soaked in sweat, and while the specific contents of the dream were long forgotten, only this name stayed with him.

 

After he woke up, he picked up his pen and wrote this story.
His writing progress was especially smooth and in a matter of days he had already written nearly ten thousand characters.

This narrative was essentially bereft of any honest or upright characters.
It told the story of how the spirits, demons, ghosts, and monsters caged in this savage and barren land banded together and escaped.

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After his father read the draft, he asked him what exactly he was trying to convey by writing such a tale.

Xu Ping answered: “Just writing for fun.”

His father was utterly helpless and could only command him to focus on his studies, but Xu Ping only continued to follow his norm, he readily promised yet never changed. 

We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection.
If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.

However, before he had even completed half of his manuscript, Xu Ping was pulled into this world by this Only Consciousness of the Three Realms ghost in his dreams.

The TB ghost stated: “You have critically disrupted this world line and now the spirits and demons in this wasteland are stirred up exactly as you’ve written, itching to make trouble, trying to escape, and creating disaster everywhere.”

Ktf vjuufg atja kjr mjra jrlvf fjgilfg rajgafv ab uibk klat j veii yief gjvljcmf bcmf wbgf, jaagjmalcu We Ulcu’r ujhf: “Frf atlr vjuufg jcv xlii Zfcu Jtbcuuejcu, atf glcuifjvfg bo atbrf ktb lcafcv ab vfofma.”

We Ulcu kjr ajxfc jyjmx obg j wbwfca yfobgf tf ijeutfv bea ibev: “Ktlr fraffwfv bcf, jgfc’a sbe wlrajxfc jybea rbwfatlcu?” 

He pulled up his sleeve and presented his right hand.

His right hand was neatly cut off from the wrist and the area from his wrist onwards was a prosthetic carved from rosewood.

Xu Ping calmly displayed his handicap bluntly: “With my condition, you want to send me in, is it not just asking me to offer my life in vain?”

Xu Ping still remembered how he configured Meng Chongguang’s combat prowess in the novella.
He was a supernatural spirit born from the spiritual energy of Heaven and Earth, his temperament was as cold as the ice and snow of the mountains, and he held no one’s life in high regard. 

Someone had once offended him and in return, Meng Chongguang had merrily peeled the skin off his back with a smile hung on his lips, then he tore out his entire spine, ground it into fine powder and used it to fashion a teacup which he sipped tea out of daily.

The TB ghost coughed twice before gently responding: “There is only one person in this world, with whom he would never overstep his authority nor disobey.
I will lend you his mortal flesh.”

Xu Ping was even more amused: “Then why not just directly ask that person to kill Meng Chengguang?”

The TB ghost answered: “He was Meng Chongguang’s shixiong who was accused of failing to guide Meng Chongguang well because Meng Chongguang was obstreperous and detestable, he slaughtered his peers, stole medicinal pellets and magical tools.
As of now, his celestial root was stripped and he was banished to the mortal realm.
He became an ordinary person and died as one in the outside world.
” 

Xu Ping: “.
.
.
.
.”

The TB Ghost saw his reticence and questioned closely: “So what do you think?”

 

Xu Ping frankly replied: “I don’t think it’ll work.”

This time it was the TB ghost’s turn to become silent: “.
.
.
.
.” 

After a while, a powerful force suddenly washed over and Xu Ping only felt his body lighten briefly before he fell backwards.

The white light immediately vanished and a current of wind rose from behind his head.
He was given no time to react before he fell through a deep, dark void again.

Although the voice of the TB ghost was getting further and further away in the midst of his rapid descent, that frail voice seemed like it was striking a bell, each syllable knocking on Xu Ping’s eardrums rhythmically: “If you don’t kill him, then you can just remain in the savage wasteland for eternity ba.”

With all the force he could muster, Xu Ping cursed his ancestors. 

Not knowing how long his descent took, it was only when the pit of Xu Ping’s stomach was already numb did he finally sink into something soft.

But he couldn’t get up at all.

By a rough estimation, Xu Ping fell through the air for at least half a shichen, during which time passed through one magnificent towering gateway after another and brilliant rays of colorful lights swirled around him in circles, dazzling his eyes until his vision blurred.

When he first landed, he couldn’t hear, nor could he see, he was only able to lie flat on the ground. 

Suddenly, countless strands of jumbled information flashed through Xu Ping’s mind.

He had only ruminated over a small portion before he gasped in surprise.

The fragments that flooded into his mind seemed to belong to Meng Chongguang’s shixiong, and strangely enough, they happened to share the same last name, both surnamed Xu, but his full name was Xu Xingzhi.

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The fragments were considerably chaotic and disordered and only contained some basic information, Xu Ping sifted through them for a long time and still barely managed to come up with a few key points. 

Xu Xingzhi was the most senior disciple in the righteous immortal sect of Fengling Mountain, and Meng Chongguang was the child he picked up and brought back to the mountain who had since stuck to Xu Xingzhi’s side.
His spiritual power was low so he was often bullied.
If not for Xu Xingzhi who stayed by his side to protect him, then he might’ve been bullied to death by the other disciples.

However, Meng Chongguang’s true identity was that of a calamitous spirit with mysterious spiritual powers.
He only feigned weakness in order to infiltrate Fengling mountain for numerous years just so he could obtain the opportunity to steal the divine artifacts placed in the four great immortal sects.

Over the many years, he worked painstakingly to network and obtain connections within each of the great sects then he fanned the flames of rebellion from within through various schemes and overt plots.
In the end, he actually managed to rally a group of righteous disciples under his wing for him to command.
However, on the eve of success in his plan to seize the divine artifacts, his conspiracy was revealed and he murdered his master that very same night.
Meanwhile under a strange combination of circumstances, Xu Xingzhi became the scapegoat.
He took on the blame for him and was subsequently unjustly imprisoned and tortured.

After that, when the righteous sects were purged, Meng Chongguang and some of the other defectors who betrayed the sects were jointly banished to the savage wasteland. 

The wasteland was a treacherous place beyond imagination and was also an unbreakable prison.

Xu Xingzhi was also viewed as an accomplice so he was reduced to mortal status.

 

And it was actually quite a simple task to kill Meng Chongguang.
All one had to do was pierce the dagger imbued with the spiritual energy of Heaven and Earth through the cinnabar mole at the center of his forehead and he would be killed just like that.

Xu Ping laid on the ground in despair, thinking, f*ck, I didn’t intend for it to be interpreted this way when I wrote this ah. 

Xu Ping had no interest in gifted scholars or talents, heroes or beauties, nor the romances of the immortal sects.
He only wanted to write a script that was different from normal, one where a villain was the protagonist.

In fact, he never even considered going as far as to compile a backstory for “Meng Chongguang”.

But now it seems as if the Meng Chongguang of his narrative and the Meng Chongguang of this world have accidentally overlapped with each other just like two strings of an instrument, they were originally never meant to intersect, but since he plucked one of them,

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