When the Chosen One Fell from Grace

The favored child of heaven is poisoned and unexpectedly cast down from his pedestal.

He doesn't make a scene, choosing to watch and wait. Before he can find the poisoner, he suddenly discovers that he can hear other people's thoughts.

From then on, his world is turned upside down and gradually falls apart.

His junior fellow disciples, junior sisters, master, and elders come to visit him as he lies gravely ill and weak. Their gazes are gentle and sympathetic, and they urge him to recover soon.

But vile, sticky thoughts enter his ears.

[He looks so beautiful when he's sick. Even his feet peeking out from under the covers are beautiful. Whenever I see them, I want them on my chest, waist, stomach, and legs...]

[That red mole on his ankle keeps swaying. So cute. I want to kiss it and bite it.]

The favored child of heaven hastily hides his feet beneath the covers.

Startled and furious, he looks up and meets the regretful, shadowed gazes of his fellow disciples. They smile gently and respectfully. "You have to get better soon."

[You absolutely must not get better.]

They hold his cold hand as he lies in bed, concern in their eyes. "Because we all like you so much, Senior Brother (Junior Brother/Disciple/Wen Nephew)."

[I love you.]

[Only when you're nothing but a sickly husk, fallen from your pedestal and trampled into the mud for others to do with as they please, will you be mine.]

The favored child of heaven flees the sect in panic, only to discover that it isn't just his fellow disciples who have gone mad. Many cultivators outside have lost their minds, too.

In the end, even his sworn enemy secretly covets him.

Now he's so weak he can't even crush an ant.

A host of beasts in human clothing come to visit him in his illness. They smile, while secretly plotting to wait until his cultivation is completely gone in half a month, then bind him in their little rooms, chain his ankles, and keep him locked in bed day and night.

To avoid becoming someone's plaything,

the favored child of heaven grabs his sword.

He'll find the poisoner and cultivate his way back to the top!

No matter what it takes!

P.S. I once read the line, "A flower on a high peak should remain on its altar, waiting for its devoted followers to cross mountains of blades and seas of fire, battered and bruised, then climb to the summit and kiss its hair." I couldn't agree more.

Theme: People should bravely push beyond their limits.