Introduction to the survival version
When I opened my eyes and woke up, I was actually dressed as the chief disciple under the aloof Master in Xiuxianwen.
The original owner was dug out of the snowdrifts by his master. He was extremely talented and had a pure appearance. He was the flower of the high mountains that was envied by the entire sect. But only I, the book-wearer, know that Master Qingxuan, who looks as cold as a thousand-year-old ice and doesn't speak falsely to anyone, has already been horribly distorted towards his original owner.
The master never allowed the original master to say a word to his fellow disciples, nor allowed the original master to take even half a step out of Qingjue Peak. Even when the original master accidentally went crazy while practicing, the master would throw the person into the Cold Jade Palace with a cold face and punish him by kneeling, euphemistically calling it "quiet heart and repentance." The original owner was forced to go berserk by this silent and suffocating desire for control, and finally ended up in a state of despair.
And I, a modern social animal who just wants to survive, don't want to make the same mistake again.
On the first day after traveling through time, I set myself some rules for living: pretend to be good, pretend to be cowardly, and pretend to be transparent. I get up on time at Mao o'clock every day to practice, I close the door on time at You o'clock to thank guests, I answer Master's questions concisely and respectfully, I lower my head and listen to Master's instructions without daring to refute, and I turn a blind eye to all the goodwill shown by my fellow disciples. In the sect competition, I could hide whenever I could, and if I had to go on the field, I would only defend without attacking, just hoping for a quick defeat. The master personally taught the sword moves, and I held my breath and concentrated, not even daring to touch him with the corner of my clothes.
I wholeheartedly expected to survive until the golden elixir stage, so I would find an excuse to run away and completely stay away from this cold evil god.
But the more cautious I am, the more I want to shrink into inconspicuous dust, the more Master's cold gaze sticks to me.
In the name of correcting his sword moves, he would inadvertently brush my wrist with his fingertips, then pull it back in a flash, his eyes still indifferent and distant; while I stayed up late repairing the sect's formation, he would stand silently outside the palace, and then leave quietly until the morning light faded. , Leaving only a cup of warm tea; even when I pretended to shirk it, saying that I was dull and unqualified to be the chief, I leaned closer and said word by word with a voice as cold as ice, "How can I, my disciple, allow others to comment?"
I looked at the fleeting undercurrent deep in his eyes, and my back was instantly covered with cold sweat.
Help! I'm just a time-traveler who wants to survive. How come this cold master's possessiveness is more terrifying than in the original book? What's wrong with this script!
Intention: Snow covers the cold river, keeping one heart in silence