A Mind Torn in Half

1,182 words

When Li Huowang saw the wariness flickering across the other four faces at the Daoist’s words, his heart lurched.

Wait. Maybe I don’t have to fight. Maybe I can scare them off with a trick.

After a few breaths, Li Huowang gritted his teeth and drove the hilt of his marrow-sword into the ground—skull-end out—with a hard thrust. The air around him began to waver between solid and hollow.

“Hmph? Why won’t he die? Then why don’t you ask Zhuge Yuan himself! Silent, without trace! Void-dwelling, peak-crushing A-apex! Neither death nor destruction-bound! Transcending the path of Three Worlds—Live!”

When the Bureau agents saw a scholar holding a folding fan flicker in and out of existence before Li Huowang, genuine terror filled their eyes. They knew exactly what Zhuge Yuan was capable of.

And there was still someone who could resurrect Zhuge Yuan using his own marrow-filled skull!

It was nearly a rout. The agents turned and fled into the forest at full speed.

The moment they were gone, Peng Longteng and Zhuge Yuan vanished with them. Li Huowang collapsed to the ground, clutching his swelling head with a pained groan.

Forcing two hallucinations into reality at his current cultivation level was too much.

Just making enough of a show to scare them off was the most he could manage.

His head felt like it was splitting. Clenching his teeth, Li Huowang grabbed the marrow-sword and staggered to his feet, intending to leave before they could come to their senses.

Even if he’d scared them off, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t catch on.

His head kept swelling, bigger and bigger, until he felt like the god of longevity in New Year paintings.

“Li… are you all right?” Zhuge Yuan’s voice carried a note of concern.

“Fine, fine.” Li Huowang didn’t actually know if that was true. This was his first time forcing a hallucination into reality, and it wasn’t the same as making a small apple—not even close.

Just as he said that, his dantian churned violently. The surroundings began to warp at a frantic pace.

Damn it! The divine light can’t contain the Primordial Qi anymore!

When Li Huowang came to his senses again, he was back in the cold reality.

But this time, he wasn’t in the ward. His mother had wheeled him into the courtyard surrounded by iron fencing to get some sun.

His atrophied muscles seemed to have put the prison staff at ease.

Thinking about the terrain on the other side, Li Huowang lunged forward, using his teeth to undo the restraints. He dragged his weakened body toward a patch of ground nearby.

He remembered there was a bush here—a good place to hide for now.

Right now, he was incredibly fragile. Even a wild boar could hurt him.

“Son! Son, what’s wrong? Get up!”

As Sun Xiaoqin fumbled to help him up, Li Huowang grabbed her arm.

“Mom! Trust me, just this once, Mom!”

For a moment, Sun Xiaoqin seemed stunned by the urgency in his voice. She stared at him blankly.

“Mom, I really can’t get up right now! The Bureau agents might still be nearby. Wait—where’s my sword?”

Li Huowang looked around, grabbed a broom leaning against the wall, and clutched it tightly against his chest.

Holding the plastic handle, he breathed a little easier. Lifting his head, he whispered to her again: “Mom, I can’t explain everything right now. But trust me—in a little while, everything will be fine. Believe me!”

Sun Xiaoqin watched her son lying on the ground, hugging a plastic broom, nervously scanning his surroundings. Tears streaming down her face, she nodded silently.

Seeing the pain in his mother’s eyes tore at Li Huowang’s heart. “Mom, don’t be sad. I might not be able to come back for a while—things are really busy over there. Please bear with it. When I’m done, I’ll make time to stay with you.”

“I’m not sad. Just stay lying down here, okay? I’ll go get the doctor.”

Li Huowang watched his mother walk away and cursed under his breath. It’s come to this again.

But at least this was the last time. Next time he came back, he’d know: forcing hallucinations into reality could work in a pinch, but it destabilized the Primordial Qi inside him.

Li Huowang scanned his surroundings cautiously. When he saw no one approaching, he let out a small sigh of relief. Good. If no one’s coming, they probably didn’t follow. I’m safe for now.

Right as he thought that, he heard footsteps behind him.

His heart tightened. A thousand thoughts exploded in his mind. Instantly, he slung his “sword” over his shoulder, put on a cold expression, and stepped out of the bush that wasn’t there, walking forward with deliberate calm.

After a few steps, he turned his head as if he’d heard something, a dismissive sneer on his face. “What? You little bastards are back? Do you think this Lord has a good temper? Hmm?”

“Huowang…”

That familiar, gentle voice made his heart tremble. He turned, still holding the “sword” over his shoulder, and saw Yang Na standing outside the iron fence, tears in her eyes.

She had lost so much weight. She’d never been heavy, but now she was far too thin.

And she wasn’t alone. An older man with large round glasses stood behind her—Li Huowang recognized him. It was Yang Na’s father.

Back then, he always got along well with him. Whenever Li Huowang visited, her father would joke around and laugh with him.

But the past was the past. Now there was no warmth in his gaze—only coldness and rejection.

“Do you see now? This is the Li Huowang you think about day and night! How long are you going to stay blind to the truth?”

Yang Na covered her mouth and crouched down, sobbing quietly.

That scene hit Li Huowang like a blade to the chest. No. I can’t let this distract me. I’m not out of danger yet. This has to be a hallucination. What are the chances Yang Na shows up the moment I wake up? Yeah, that’s right. This side is fake. This Yang Na is fake too!

Those two people over there… There’s someone coming! Two people—could it be Miao Miao and Li Sui?

“Miao Miao! Li Sui! Is that you? If it is, give me a sign!” Li Huowang shouted at the two figures outside the fence.

As he shouted, Yang Na’s father grabbed her arm and started pulling her away.

“Now do you give up? Let’s go! From now on, forget about Li Huowang! Don’t think about him, don’t see him!”

Watching Yang Na move further away, a completely opposite thought surged uncontrollably from within him.

No! No way!! This side is definitely real! I’m going to make it real one day—so this Yang Na has to be real too! She’s real! I can’t let her just leave!

The two opposing thoughts crashed into each other inside his skull. His expression twisted with pain. Clenching his fist, he began pounding his swelling head like a madman. “AHHHHH!!”

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Reading Guide Decoding

The Cost of Bluffing a God

Cultural / Xianxia Notes

“Forcing the False into Reality” (修真之反用): This chapter gives us a concrete look at what happens when a Heart-Element pushes their ability too far. Normally, “cultivating the false into reality” is a gradual process of layering belief until a lie solidifies. But here, Li Huowang rushes it—he plants a hallucination of Zhuge Yuan into the world like a flag, using the Primordial Qi as fuel. The result is a short-lived but convincing manifestation that collapses almost immediately. Think of it like a sprint when your cultivation base was built for marathons: you get one explosive burst, then you crash. The swelling head and destabilized Qi are not just flavor text—they’re the body rejecting an overdraw on its spiritual credit.

The Marrow-Sword as a Medium: The sword made from Zhuge Yuan’s marrow-skull is more than a gruesome trophy—it acts as a physical anchor, a “bone-print” that makes the hallucination more credible. In Daoist ritual logic, body parts of the deceased retain a resonance with their original owner, like a tuning fork. This is why Li Huowang can summon a Zhuge Yuan hallucination more easily than, say, a random bystander: the marrow-sword is a relic that lowers the spiritual “cost” of the manifestation.

The Prison Courtyard vs. the Hospital Ward: The shift from a hospital setting to a prison exercise yard is a chilling detail. In modern Chinese psychiatric care, patients deemed a danger to themselves or others can be placed in “protective custody” with physical restraints and outdoor time under supervision. The presence of iron mesh and the casual way staff have left him in the sun suggests this is not a standard lockdown but a long-term containment arrangement—his mother has had to accept harsher conditions because his behavior has been deemed uncontrollable. The atrophy of his muscles is a medical reality that the Bureau agents on the other side were also observing, which suggests his physical body in one world mirrors his state in the other, even if he doesn’t fully cross over.

Chapter Overview

All right, buckle up, fellow readers—this chapter is a masterclass in cognitive whiplash. Li Huowang just pulled off a desperate bluff by forcing two hallucinations (Zhuge Yuan and Peng Longteng) into temporary reality using his Heart-Element ability, and it actually worked long enough to scare off the Supervisory Heavenly Office agents. But the cost? His Primordial Qi goes haywire, and he gets yanked back to the modern-world reality—only this time, not in a hospital bed but in a prison courtyard under his mother’s watch. The real gut-punch comes when Yang Na shows up with her father, and Li Huowang’s fractured mind can’t decide whether she’s real or another hallucination. It’s a raw, painful collision between his desperate survival logic and his equally desperate human longing.

Key Plot Points

Li Huowang successfully scares off four Bureau agents by using a marrow-sword to briefly solidify Zhuge Yuan’s hallucination in front of them—his bluff hinges on the agents’ fear of Zhuge Yuan’s actual power.
The cost of forcing two major hallucinations is severe: his Primordial Qi destabilizes, and his head swells painfully, forcing him to retreat.
He abruptly shifts back to the modern world, but this time his mother has him in a prison exercise yard, not the hospital ward—suggesting his condition has worsened in the eyes of authorities.
Using only his teeth, Li Huowang frees himself from restraints, grabs a broom as a makeshift weapon, and hides in a bush, still paranoid that the Bureau agents might track him across worlds.
He pleads with his mother to trust him, confessing he can’t explain but promising things will be better; she sobs silently, and his guilt over her pain is palpable.
Yang Na appears outside the fence with her father, visibly emaciated and heartbroken; her father coldly dismisses Li Huowang as a lost cause, dragging her away.
Li Huowang’s mind splits between two convictions—that this is a hallucination he should ignore, and that this is the real world he must cling to—causing him to physically pound his own head in anguish.

Reading Guide

This chapter is a multitool of emotional weapons. The action is over in the first few paragraphs—the real fight is in Li Huowang’s head, and it’s relentless. Pay attention to the way he switches mental gears: one second he’s a cold strategist bluffing Bureau agents, the next he’s a son lying on the ground trying not to make his mother cry, and the next he’s staring at Yang Na and feeling his soul tear in two. The line between “this is fake, ignore it” and “this is real, don’t lose her” is exactly the same line that defines his entire existence across both worlds. That final scream and the self-inflicted pounding are not just dramatic punctuation—they’re the sound of a man whose reality-checkbox has been jammed so hard it’s smoking. If you’ve ever been torn between two truths you want to believe simultaneously, this chapter will land like a punch to the chest. Also, bonus dark humor: Li Huowang’s improvised weapon of choice is a plastic broom. The mighty wielder of reality-bending power, reduced to threatening supernatural agents with a cleaning tool. Chef’s kiss.