Chapter Thirty-Two: Crystal Mushrooms

As the black outer layer peeled away, the faint blue glow on the stone grew ever more dazzling. The radiance reflected off the film of water on the cave wall, casting dreamlike colors throughout the cavern.

Shen Wan stared, dumbfounded, at the stone before him.

No, now it looked more like a crystal—clear and flawless.

And its shape was exactly like a dog-pee moss…

No, more accurately, it looked just like a mushroom…

“This thing… must be worth a fortune, right?”

His eyes shone, and a small, greedy thrill stirred within him. On Earth, he’d never seen anything so rare; the fanciest thing he’d ever laid eyes on was his aunt’s jade bangle, a garish, fake-looking green thing.

On instinct, Shen Wan raised his hand, wanting to take the crystal mushroom in his palm.

But then he seemed to realize something, and quickly drew his hand back.

“Damn, it actually tried to bewitch me. I almost fell for it.”

...

The crystal mushroom continued to emit its pure, alluring glow.

Though Shen Wan was now on guard, he still swallowed hard—the thing was just too beautiful.

So beautiful that even the most innocent soul would want to claim it for themselves.

Of course, Shen Wan was far from innocent.

He thought that it shouldn’t just float there—it ought to lie comfortably in his pocket...

Though he struggled inwardly, he dared not act rashly. Who knew what dangers this thing might hold?

He recalled a lesson from childhood, though he couldn’t remember which troublemaker had told him: the more beautiful something is, the farther you should stay away from it.

For such things would erode your spirit, shatter your mind, ravage your flesh, trample your soul—danger incarnate.

Just like women: the more beautiful, the more dangerous.

But as he grew up, Shen Wan always felt a strange urge... to explore...

Er… that wasn’t important.

His thoughts began to wander, but the word “danger” echoed in his mind several times, and then a realization struck him.

He jerked his head up, his eyes suddenly bright.

“Wait a minute... I think... I’m immune to spiritual power, aren’t I?”

Mark this—this is crucial!

Shen Wan seized on the key point at once.

After all, in this world, he was immune to all effects of spiritual power.

So even if this crystal mushroom truly was dangerous, it could do him no harm.

He thought of his time in this world so far—Lin the Worthy Younger Brother, Senior Brother, the troublemaking trio—each seemed formidable, yet all had been powerless against him.

Then he recalled his “bargain” master—the old man seemed to quite like him...

“Uh...”

Shen Wan’s eyes gleamed. He quickly turned his gaze back to the crystal mushroom.

This time, he finally decided to touch it.

Either way, he thought, death was always a possibility—but with his personality, poverty was not an option.

He raised his hand once more. He was still cautious, but the hesitation was gone.

He reached out and gently touched it; a cool sensation brushed his fingertip.

Shen Wan jerked his hand back—the coolness lingered on his skin.

One second, two seconds...

He held his breath. He’d just given it a light tap, and after a dozen seconds or more, the crystal mushroom still floated there, undisturbed.

...

He let out a long breath, feeling that his judgment was correct.

This time, Shen Wan’s gaze grew resolute. For the third time, he raised his hand and opened his palm.

He slowly reached out, carefully pressing his palm against the crystal mushroom’s stem.

He paused—no reaction.

Then he curled his fingers, slowly, finally closing them gently around the crystal.

Shen Wan held his breath, his hand suspended in the air, the crystal mushroom resting in his palm, utterly still.

For a long moment, the cave remained silent; his heartbeat thudded clear and strong.

He was safe.

“Ha...”

After holding his breath for so long, he finally exhaled, then drew in a deep breath and straightened his hunched body.

“See? Nothing happened. I got all worked up for nothing.”

He patted his chest, then plopped back down onto the ground.

The cold sweat that had just broken out on his forehead was slowly absorbed back into his skin as his nerves calmed.

It itched a little. Shen Wan wiped his brow, then lifted the hand holding the crystal mushroom before his eyes.

The mushroom glimmered with a pale blue aura in his palm; the coolness slid over his fingers, curling up his arm until it faded at the shoulder.

“So soothing.”

That refreshing chill seemed almost like a blessing, calming his heart completely.

Shen Wan leaned back and lay down on the ground.

Perhaps this was the most comfortable moment he'd felt since falling into this place.

He gazed up at the high cave ceiling. Even though this thing hadn’t brought him any hope of survival, and even though there was still no way out, the panic from before had vanished.

“Sigh.”

But this sigh was not one of despair—more of quiet regret.

The ground was cold; after lying there for a while, the chill became unbearable.

The black robe kept most of him warm, but his calves were freezing.

The chill crept up from his legs, and his inner clothes were already damp and clammy—now, with the added cold, his hair stood on end.

With a shiver, Shen Wan jumped to his feet.

His nerves tingled; glancing down at the mushroom, the coolness no longer felt so pleasant.

Best to put it away for now.

He shoved his hand into his robe, intending to slip the mushroom into his jeans pocket.

But when he tried, the crystal mushroom stayed stubbornly stuck to his palm—he pulled out his hand, and the mushroom came with it.

Maybe the pocket was too tight from being soaked, or maybe it was just too full.

After all, he had the disciple badge Tian Xuanzi gave him, the small box holding his wife’s life flame, and the identity token his senior brother gave him—all crammed into that pocket.

Bulging and overstuffed.

He tried the other pocket, reaching across with his hand.

Again, the crystal mushroom refused to leave his palm.

Shen Wan grew confused—he looked at his hand, then at his pocket.

He pried open the pocket with his left hand, and for the third time shoved the mushroom in with his right.

Sure enough—hand out, mushroom out...

“Damn!”

This time, Shen Wan started to panic.

But he refused to believe it. Left hand holding the pocket open, right hand shoved the mushroom in, harder than before, his hand burrowing deep into the pocket.

...

But—

Hand out, mushroom still there...

Hand in, hand out, mushroom still there...

In, out—the mushroom clung to his palm as if glued there, utterly inseparable.

He was doomed.

“Damn! Damn! Damn!”

He shook his hand furiously, but the crystal mushroom wouldn’t budge.

“Shit, I’ve been sunk in the gutter!”

Shen Wan frantically shook his hand, even tried biting at the thing, hoping to pry it loose.

But no matter how hard he tried, the thing just clung quietly to his palm, showing not the slightest sign of coming off.

Truly, trouble never comes alone.

Shen Wan suddenly felt that nothing had gone right for him all day.

First he’d gotten lost in the Listening Cloud Ravine, then ran into three idiots outside the sect and ended up in a fight, and then he’d fallen into a pit by the Listening Cloud Lake.

Now, stranded in this godforsaken place, he’d been stuck with a piece of stone.

He felt as if he’d swallowed excrement today—no, ever since he ran into those three idiots outside Qianxuan Sect.

Ignoring the fact that he’d gotten lost, his mind flashed to Zhao Lei’s annoying face.

Just thinking of Zhao Lei made Shen Wan want to slap him again.

“Achoo!”

Far away in the Qianxuan Sect council hall, Zhao Lei sneezed violently.

At that moment, every bone in his body was shattered, his face a bloody mess, his body slumped like a pile of mud on a bench.

Of course, this wasn’t Shen Wan’s doing—it was Wei Zhen’s.

Wei Zhen had heard that his junior brother was bullied at his own gates—how could he let that pass?

Just as he left the sect, he spotted Zhao Lei and his two companions heading up the mountain.

As a Qianxuan Sect elder, Wei Zhen was not an unreasonable man; a quick scan with his divine sense confirmed Shen Wan’s aura on the trio.

These three—case closed.

And after that... there was nothing left to say.

If Zhao Lei hadn’t produced the Valley Shadow Sect’s waist badge and invitation just before dying, the three of them would probably have been reincarnated by now.

Lying on the bench, groaning, he was suddenly wracked by another sneeze.

The sneeze jolted his battered body, sending fresh waves of agony through him.

He was hanging by a thread; with that sneeze, he nearly lost even his last breath.

He bared his teeth, a high-pitched moan squeezed from his throat, his body trembling violently, the sound rising and falling with the pain.

At length, the pain ebbed, and Zhao Lei lay back, utterly bereft of hope.

Then, in his mind’s eye, a vision of Shen Wan appeared.

Shen Wan stood silently nearby, lips curled in a smile—smug, triumphant.

Yes, he was smiling, a look of utter satisfaction.

Zhao Lei’s pupils dilated; twin trails of tears slid down his cheeks.

He… no longer wished to live…