An Exorcism Performed by the Unknowing

The forest air was thick with a spectral mist, the kind that seemed to whisper of ancient secrets and long-forgotten tales. Chengyu stood still as the grave, his heart pounding a relentless rhythm against his ribcage as the forest erupted into chaos. The members of the hunting party were frozen in fear, their eyes fixated on the undulating wraiths that circled Lin Hu.

"Help!" Lin Hu pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. "Anyone, please..."

Chengyu hesitated, doubt gnawing at his insides. He knew medicine well because he'd spent the better part of his life being fascinated by it, valuing it as his connection to a culture and place he knew nothing of, only that he should have belonged to it but didn't. However, his interests had never strayed to the arcane; he knew of the history and petty feuds, but nothing of spirits or the rites to banish them. But the pleading stares of the men bore into him, and with a breath he could scarcely afford to lose, he stepped forward.

It felt like he was on a stage. Like he was about to put on a performance no one present today would forget.

"Um, yes, right," he stammered, clearing his throat. "Spirits! Heed! I—uh—command thee! Obey my command! By proxy… you shall heed the will of the gods!"

Chengyu flung his arms wildly, mimicking the incantations he had seen in plays and period dramas from his own world. A haphazard dance ensued, his feet kicking up leaves and dirt as he spun, chanting nonsensical verses and throwing mock sigils into the air. Truthfully, he soon lost any ideas and began throwing up signs rappers from his world used, stopping between chants to replenish his mind of nonsense, and also to grab random herbs to toss their way.

"By the power of the ancients!" Chengyu shouted, his voice gaining confidence with each absurd gesture. At this point, he was almost shuffle-dancing and flinging himself side-to-side. "I beseech thee! Leave this realm! Leave the man Lin Hu and never return!"

With how they only churned faster, Chengyu feared he was only making himself enticing bait. But to the amazement of everyone present, including Chengyu himself, the spirits paused, their ethereal forms wavering as if confused. They swirled around, dark masses without a definite shape. Yet, if they had faces, within the moment they paused, they would've exchanged glances that spoke of embarrassment. It seemed that a silent agreement passed between them, because as if on some unspoken cue, they stilled entirely before rising, dissipating into the morning air like fog under the sun's assertive touch.

Chengyu stopped his erratic movements, panting heavily, his chest heaving with disbelief. A silence settled over the woods, the kind that comes after a storm has passed, leaving only the memory of chaos and watered grass behind.

"Did I… Did it really work?" he muttered to himself, his mind reeling with the absurdity of the moment. He thought of his own world, grounded in logic and science, where ghosts were tales for children and magic was merely sleight of hand. And yet, here he was, having just 'exorcised' phantoms with sheer nonsense.

Just how different was this place from his world? How long could he keep pretending to know things beyond his realm of understanding until his luck ran out? Later, rather than sooner, he hoped.

Before another thought could have surfaced, rough hands gripped his shoulders and lifted him off the ground. He was swarmed and seized by several pairs of hands, then hoisted into the air. Cheers resounded as he was tossed, dropped, caught, then the process repeated until he felt dizzy.

"Guys! Put me down!" he cried, limbs flailing. Startled yelps escaped him as the hunters continued to hoist him into the air, their faces alight with joy and relief.

"Little Apothecary! Chengyu! Our savior!" they roared in unison, their voices echoing through the trees. Although they'd stopped tossing him, he was still being paraded around, previewed to an imaginary audience. "Shadow slayer!"

"Put me down," Chengyu laughed nervously, his feet dangling helplessly. "I really didn't do much."

But the men would have none of it. They patted his back with such vigor he feared they might dislocate something. Their gratitude was palpable, their belief in his accidental heroics unquestioned.

"Truly, you must be blessed by the spirits themselves!" Lin Hu exclaimed, clapping Chengyu on the back once they finally set him back down.

Chengyu managed a sheepish smile, the weight of his charade pressing down on him like the heavy air before a storm. Could fortune alone explain his success? Or did this world operate on rules he was yet unaware of? Was there a system to expose? He envisioned a screen popping up, a mysterious voice or avatar that would direct his next moves, or at least guide him, but only the dim forest remained.

Apothecary, human lie-detector, huntsman, and now, an exorcist. By the end of his journey here, Chengyu would probably try every job under the sun. He wondered how, in his world, he'd put the skills on a resume.

Disregarding the humorous nature of the encounter, questions swirled in his mind like leaves caught in an autumn wind, but for now, he allowed himself to be swept up in their celebrations, ever the reluctant hero in a land of enchantment.

Soon, the euphoria of the hunting party had diminished to a warm hum, like the afterglow of a midsummer's eve. Chengyu, still feeling an imposter amidst their ranks, seized the lull as an opportunity.

First, he squeezed in some time to inspect herbs, and no one bothered him. Then when that got boring, he ventured to where the possessed man, Lin Hu, sat.

"Lin Hu," he began, tone polite.

Gutting a sparrow, he swallowed the meager mouthful of meat and hummed. "Hmm?" He spoke some more, but the sound was muffled.

"Tell me of the spirit," Chengyu inquired, his voice betraying a hint of an outsider's curiosity. "Is such magic common here?"

"Magic," began Lin Hu, wiping his lips. Tossing the bones over his shoulder, he spoke with a reverence that tugged at the air itself, "belongs to those with royal blood or scholarly minds. We mere peasants—even lower, for we are hunters—only know it through tales and the rarest of spectacles."

"Ah, I see," Chengyu murmured, filing away this crucial piece of information. He thanked the man with a nod, but he was distracted, already starting on another sparrow. Sighing, Chengyu then retreated to a patch of soft earth covered in moss to sit and ponder the implications of a world structured by mystical hierarchies.

However, the bright cloak of curiosity wrapped tightly around him, and soon his gaze drifted to the vibrant flora surrounding him. His hands itched to touch, to know. Rising from his contemplation, he returned to identifying and gathering plants, their leaves whispering secrets of possible medicinal uses, each one a potential key to unlocking the mysteries of this realm.

The forest was a sprawling canvas of greens and browns, a labyrinth of nature that held secrets in every leaf and under every rock. Traipsing through it, he collected some herbs requested by Xiuqin, then others he didn't quite know. On several occasions, he found some tasty-looking berries but knew better than to eat them and stored them away.

"Little Apothecary, what's this one called?" a voice boomed from behind, echoing slightly off the trees like a curious child's would.

Chengyu turned to find Lin Hu looming over him, his large frame casting a shadow that provided a momentary respite from the dappled sunlight. He suppressed a smile at the sight of the formidable man peering at the plants with the innocence of a pup discovering its reflection.

"That, my friend," he said, holding up a sprig of leaves for Lin Hu to see, "is called 'Dragon's Breath.' Quite a potent herb for treating fevers."

"Dragon's Breath..." Lin Hu repeated, rolling the exotic name around his tongue. "Does it breathe fire?"

"Only in the belly of the ill," Chengyu chuckled, placing the herb carefully into his basket.

Lin Hu's questions were simple, often amusingly so, but Chengyu found himself cherishing these moments. They were pockets of tranquility in a world that still felt too complex, too harsh. His eyes lingered on Lin Hu, taking note of the genuine interest sparking in the man's once dull eyes.

"Is it hard... to know all the herbs?" Lin Hu asked, squatting beside Chengyu and observing his work with a furrowed brow.

"Like any art, it requires patience and passion," Chengyu replied, selecting another plant. "But seeing them heal those in need makes the journey worthwhile."

 As he explained the properties of the herbs, Chengyu watched Lin Hu nod along, his fingertips brushing against the leaves with something akin to reverence. There was a tenderness in the giant's touch that belied his usual clumsiness—a gentleness that few would suspect.

"You must speak to the plants," Lin Hu said, looking at him with unabashed admiration. "They seem to listen to you."

"Ah, if only that were true," Chengyu mused, a wistful note creeping into his voice. It would make his task easier if nature could bend to his will. But, alas, the world didn't work that way. "I simply listen to them, Lin Hu. Each plant has a story, a purpose. You just need to be attentive enough to hear it."

Watching Lin Hu's earnest expression, Chengyu felt a warmth spread through his chest. This man, who he first dismissed as a lumbering oaf, had depths that most didn't bother to explore. Chengyu saw that now—saw the curiosity that Lin Hu hid beneath his stoic facade.

"What are these?" Lin Hu's voice boomed, interrupting the subtle symphony of the woods.

"Careful," Chengyu warned without looking back, recognizing the excitement tinged with recklessness in Lin Hu's tone. "Some berries are not meant to be tasted."

The curiosity that fluttered in Lin Hu's eyes was childlike, pure, yet perilously unguarded. Chengyu felt it tug at his conscience, reminding him of the responsibility he had shouldered by inviting this gentle giant into nature's apothecary.

He turned just in time to see Lin Hu's fingers close around a cluster of dark, glistening berries. They hung like ominous jewels from a thicket, bewitching in their allure. Time seemed to stretch and fray as Chengyu watched Lin Hu raise them to his lips, innocently ignorant of the danger nestled within their flesh.

"Stop!" Chengyu's command sliced through the air, but it was too late. Lin Hu's brow furrowed in confusion even as he chewed, the poison already trespassing his body.

Without a second thought, Chengyu lunged forward, his hands finding Lin Hu's broad torso. He positioned himself behind the larger man, arms encircling the solid bulk of his frame. "Spit it out!" Chengyu ordered, his voice laced with an urgency that belied his calm demeanor.

Lin Hu gagged, his throat seizing up under the treachery of the toxic berries. Chengyu's fingers pressed firmly just below Lin Hu's ribcage, driving upward with measured force. Once, twice, thrice he thrust, each motion a desperate plea to the fates.

The world narrowed to the space between them, to the life hanging in the balance. Chengyu was acutely aware of every shared breath, the way Lin Hu's body yielded to his guidance, trusting implicitly even as it fought against unseen death.

Finally, Lin Hu expelled the berries, his body convulsing as he retched onto the mossy floor. Relief, raw and overwhelming, flooded Chengyu's senses. His heart, which had taken residence in his throat, thudded back into its rightful place.

"Little Apothecary... thank you... for saving me again," Lin Hu gasped between heaves, his gratitude shining through watery eyes.

"Of course," Chengyu replied, though his voice emerged softer, strained. He studied Lin Hu's face—flushed with exertion, yet aglow with an innocent joy that belied the brush with mortality.

"Those were... not good," Lin Hu managed a chuckle, his smile wide and unabashed despite the ordeal.

"No, they were not," Chengyu sighed deeply, allowing himself a small, weary smile. In that moment, framed by the watchful trees, Lin Hu reminded him once more of an overgrown puppy—unaware of the dangers lurking, but boundlessly thankful for the rescue.

"Come," Chengyu said, steadying Lin Hu with a hand on his shoulder. "Let's leave the lessons of poisonous berries for another day."

Their footsteps intermingled with the rustling leaves as they resumed their path, Lin Hu's laughter echoing softly, a testament to life's resilience, even in the face of its own fragility.

"Lin Hu!" someone called, waving him over. "Boar alert! You and Jun go follow!"

Shrugging, Lin Hu began at a spring, drawing his bow as he disappeared into the bushes. As the men scattered into the underbrush in pursuit of game, Chengyu found solace in a clearing bathed in speckled sunlight. He leaned against an ancient tree, its bark gnarled with wisdom, and pulled out a leather-bound journal. The parchment accepted his ink like a trusted confidant as he detailed his botanical discoveries.

Could these same hands wield the forces they speak of? he mused silently, the words a breath on his lips. His mind waltzed with the notion of mastering magic, not for power but for passage—to return to his own reality, a thought both sweet and sorrowful.

The leaves above danced in a kaleidoscope of light and shadow, playing upon his features. He let himself sink into the beauty of nature, allowing it to cradle him in its embrace. Each ray of sunlight seemed to hold a different note in the symphony of the forest, and Chengyu, for a moment, felt attuned to its music.

"Perhaps," he whispered to no one, "there is magic in simply being here, in living amid these wonders."

There were sights he would never again get to see, other things he wouldn't have witnessed at all, even if he had lived a hundred more years. Chengyu wasn't an idealist, but he thought that his time here hadn't been too bad. Even for the lack of modern amenities, he wouldn't have minded staying another week or two.

But even as the thought bloomed, it was tucked away, a petal pressed between the pages of his journal. For now, there was much to learn, and Chengyu was nothing if not a diligent student of life's grand, unfathomable curriculum.