Chapter 55: Self-Preservation

I Am Bound to a Cultivation System The Dream of Summer Woods 3591 words 2026-04-13 13:58:19

Su Jin instinctively tightened her grip, gathering her spiritual energy into clenched fists, ready to strike. The mutant boar beast let out a loud roar, “Awo, hmpf!” Its jaws gaping, tusks gleaming, it charged straight toward Su Jin’s face.

At that crucial moment, Su Jin did not act; she closed her eyes, feeling the beast’s foul breath drawing ever nearer, its hot, nauseating stench already filling her senses. Saliva sprayed onto her face.

Her expression was tense, but she restrained her impulse, determined to gamble—standing motionless, frozen in place.

In the nick of time, Lin Hao shot to her side with a sudden burst of speed. Before the mutant boar could bite down, a blaze of strange fire erupted, scorching the beast and transforming it into roasted pork in an instant.

With a final, guttural cry, the mutant boar’s breath ceased.

Su Jin opened her eyes; sweat soaked her forehead and body, all color drained from her face, and her rigid spine finally relaxed. She glanced at Lin Hao, a sharp glint flickering in her eyes so quickly it was hard to catch.

Lin Hao himself felt a pang of guilt. He’d intended to probe Su Jin, who was shrouded in suspicion, but hadn’t expected things to turn out this way. Had he not intervened, Su Jin would certainly have met her end at the beast’s jaws.

Looking at her, his expression became complicated, his voice subdued: “Um, I’m really sorry about earlier. My old wounds haven’t healed, and with the mutant boar appearing so suddenly, I couldn’t react in time. You weren’t scared, were you? Are you alright? Did you get hurt?” His face was full of concern, his gaze much more normal than before.

All Su Jin wanted now was to kill Lin Hao, tear him limb from limb, and never speak to him again. But remembering her mission, she exhaled heavily, suppressing her fury.

Moments earlier, she had almost lost control and acted; had Lin Hao not stepped in, she doubted she could have continued the pretense. At first, she’d intended to strike, but recalling her task and Lin Hao’s possible suspicions, she gambled that he wouldn’t truly abandon her.

She won the bet, and relief mingled with a surge of anger she couldn’t quite explain.

In truth, Lin Hao’s actions were not unusual in Su Jin’s eyes. She herself would not easily trust a stranger, especially one who latched onto her. Yet, with Lin Hao, her anger was particularly intense, despite their brief acquaintance and her own ulterior motives. Something about it simply unsettled her.

Without another word, Su Jin turned and strode ahead.

Lin Hao hurried to catch up, seeing she was unhurt. He tried to appease her, saying, “Really, don’t be angry, don’t be angry. You must have been frightened. If you’re uncomfortable, just tell me.”

Su Jin halted, her expression cold. “It’s nothing. Weren’t you looking for the Qilin? Stop wasting words, or you’ll attract more mutant beasts.”

She moved on. Lin Hao scratched his nose, awkwardly following.

Su Jin led Lin Hao in the direction she had originally come from. Lin Hao walked slowly, his suspicions now eased. Facing the mutant beast, he realized that only someone with extraordinary resolve would not choose to protect themselves in such danger.

Su Jin hadn’t acted—perhaps she truly couldn’t cultivate.

For someone so powerless, Lin Hao could not bring himself to be ruthless, especially after his own actions, which hardly seemed manly.

His vigilance toward Su Jin waned. His expression softened, and he began to believe she might really have seen the Qilin. There was no reason for her to plot against him after just one meeting.

They walked for most of an hour until they reached the edge of a cliff.

Lin Hao, puzzled, asked, “We’re at the cliff now. Where’s the Qilin? I don’t see it.” He scanned the surroundings, still finding no trace of the beast, his confusion deepening. He looked over the cliff’s edge, then back at Su Jin.

Su Jin, having led Lin Hao to the precipice, saw him leaning over, peering down, and a strange smile curled her lips. When Lin Hao turned back, she quickly masked her expression, feigning innocence. “That’s odd. I saw the Qilin running this way. Why is there only a cliff? Let me check.”

She approached Lin Hao, also looking over the edge. “Hey, there’s really no sign. Could it be the Qilin is down below?”

“Why would it go down there?” Lin Hao, half-believing, edged closer to the cliff, gazing downward.

Seeing her chance, Su Jin’s eyes flashed sharply; she smiled, raised her hand, and pressed it toward Lin Hao’s back.

Just then—

A loud thud echoed; something had landed.

A red shape leapt down from the slope, landing in a blur.

Hearing the sound, Lin Hao immediately turned.

Su Jin, realizing things had gone awry, acted in panic, shoving Lin Hao off the cliff.

He cried out, clinging to the rocks, but his grip failed; all ten fingers were shredded by stone, and in an instant, he plummeted into the ravine.

Only his echo lingered in the air.

Turning, Su Jin saw it was the Qilin.

Her face lit with surprise, then paled as the Qilin strode toward her, its presence daunting. “Q-Qilin Lord!” she stammered.

The Qilin released its pressure, each step pounding like an earthquake, awakening a deep-seated fear and awe of the holy beast within Su Jin.

She dropped to her knees with a slap, terrified, and asked, “What do you want?”

When the Qilin reached her, its majestic voice rang in her mind, interrogating, “Why did you push him?”

“I-I didn’t push him! The sound you made startled me, so my hand slipped,” Su Jin hurriedly explained, inwardly shocked. It seemed the Qilin truly had a connection to Lin Hao. She absolutely couldn’t let it know she’d pushed him intentionally; otherwise, her life would end here.

In any case, the Qilin had been some distance away, surely hadn’t seen clearly—she would never admit it. She pitifully pleaded her case.

The Qilin indeed hadn’t seen what happened in detail. It snorted coldly at Su Jin, then strode to the cliff’s edge, lifting a hoof as if to leap down and search for Lin Hao.

Su Jin quickly reached out to block it. “What are you doing? It’s dangerous down there, you can’t go!”

“What concern is it of yours?” the Qilin replied, indifferent.

“But if you go down, what about me? I’m just a weak young woman…” Su Jin tried to use the same tactics she’d used on Lin Hao, appealing to the Qilin.

Unexpectedly, the Qilin ignored her. “Hmpf, you know what you did. When I return and learn the truth, I’ll settle accounts with you. You’d better pray Lin Hao is unharmed, or else…”

With that, the Qilin leapt powerfully on all fours, soaring down the cliff.

Wind howled past its ears as it descended. With its massive size and deliberate speed, it soon reached the bottom of the ravine.

Su Jin watched from the edge, unable to stop it. That last piercing look from the Qilin had truly frightened her, and coupled with her innate fear of holy beasts, she hadn’t even tried to intervene.

All she could do was watch as the Qilin went to find Lin Hao.

Coming back to herself, Su Jin was drenched in sweat, exhaling sharply, her eyes filled with hateful frustration. “Damn it, this is a holy beast all right—impossible to ignore. The Elder’s orders can’t be fulfilled now, hmph.”

Unwilling, she turned and flew away in a flash, glancing back at the cliff one last time.

This cliff was one Su Jin had encountered on her way, and had marked it in her memory. When Lin Hao mentioned searching for the Qilin, inspiration struck—she could lure him to the precipice and push him over.

If there was no Qilin, she’d rescue him, gaining his trust and making it easier to obtain information later.

Who could have guessed the Qilin was really here? Like seeing a ghost. Who knew how much it had witnessed? Su Jin felt a deep dread.

Her instincts told her she had likely been exposed.

Especially after the Qilin’s last words, Su Jin knew she could no longer stay by Lin Hao’s side.

Being clever, she chose to withdraw safely.

Though unwilling, having spent so much effort and nearly ruined her own face, the mission was still incomplete. She would have to report to the Elder—this was the most frustrating setback she’d ever experienced.

But she had no choice but to leave. Lin Hao must have noticed her actions; even if she claimed it was an accident, she doubted he’d believe her.

If Lin Hao were so easily fooled, he wouldn’t have tested her when facing the mutant boar.

And so, she left in a huff.