The Illusionary Passion Flower grew in this empty expanse, with dense fog shrouding the surroundings, making it completely impossible to see what lay inside.
Shen Zhiwei only knew that the environmental requirements for the Illusionary Passion Flower to grow were extremely harsh. The outer ring was naturally filled with Illusionary Passion Flowers, but what about the inner depths?
Shen Zhiwei couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was hidden deep within.
However, Shen Zhiwei was unable to ponder any further because he heard Mo Rubai’s voice.
Of all the times, the male lead had to show up right now!
Yet, upon hearing Mo Rubai’s voice, A-ling stopped moving, and Shen Zhiwei decisively knocked her down to the ground.
“Mo… Senior Brother Mo…” A-ling collapsed to the ground, coughing up blood while still trying to crawl forward. She stretched a hand out toward Mo Rubai, desperately wanting to grab him. “Save… save me, Realizer Lingzhi wants to kill me…”
Shen Zhiwei: “…”
Shen Zhiwei wanted to step forward and deliver another kick, but he found he couldn’t move—his physical condition felt completely wrong!
Had the antidote to the Illusionary Passion Flower taken effect already?
The one thing Shen Zhiwei took comfort in was that Mo Rubai wasn’t a cut-sleeve and wouldn’t be interested in any man other than Murong Bili.
“Little Master-Uncle, what’s wrong with you?”
Turning a blind eye to A-ling, Mo Rubai bypassed her and carefully picked up one of Shen Zhiwei’s hands. “You’re bleeding.”
Panting heavily, Shen Zhiwei finally figured out what had happened: it was because his hand was bleeding and had come into direct contact with the Illusionary Passion Flower that he had ended up like this.
“Senior Brother Mo?” After coughing up blood for a bit, A-ling realized the man still hadn’t noticed her, and she burst into tears. “Ah-Bai, look at me! Realizer Lingzhi killed Senior Sister and wants to kill me too!”
“A-ling,” Mo Rubai turned his head, looking down at her from above with a cold and rigid expression, “Who killed Senior Sister Green-Yi? Do you think I don’t know? Have you any idea what you’ve done!”
“No, it wasn’t me,” A-ling clutched her head, rolling around in agony. “I… I am so good, so kind-hearted, how could I possibly kill anyone? It must be Shen Zhiwei framing me, he must have done something to me!”
“A life for a life, and what’s more, the one you killed was a fellow sect sister,” Mo Rubai said, drawing the Lingguang Sword from Shen Zhiwei’s hand. “A-ling, your crimes are unforgivable; you must pay with your life!”
“Wait—”
Shen Zhiwei’s warning came a beat too late. By the time he reacted, all he could see was A-ling’s look of terror and the bloody, gaping hole in her abdomen.
Earlier, when Senior Sister Green-Yi was murdered by A-ling, Shen Zhiwei had been entirely focused on stopping A-ling and letting the other two female cultivators escape, so he hadn’t felt much about the fact that “someone had died.”
But now, with the danger gone, Shen Zhiwei stared at A-ling’s lifeless corpse, a chill rising straight from the soles of his feet.
A living, breathing person had died right before his eyes.
This made Shen Zhiwei realize with excruciating clarity that this place was not his world.
In this realm of immortal cultivation, human lives were as worthless as grass, and no one cared who stayed or left.
“Little Master-Uncle?” Mo Rubai looked at Shen Zhiwei with puzzlement. “Did she hurt you?”
Asking that question, Mo Rubai even felt it was redundant. Someone who could be so effortlessly killed by him—how could such a person possibly manage to injure his master-uncle?
Yet, Shen Zhiwei remained completely unresponsive.
Mo Rubai quickly noticed that the state of the person before him was not right. Shen Zhiwei’s gaze was blankly fixed on A-ling—what was there to look at on a female corpse?
“She’s… dead…” Shen Zhiwei muttered under his breath. “She’s really dead.”
It felt so unbelievable. Realizer Lingzhi had told him to stop just now—could it be because he held some unspeakable romantic feelings toward this A-ling girl?
“Yes, she’s dead.” For some reason, Mo Rubai felt a flash of irritation. “Does Little Master-Uncle feel that she shouldn’t have died?”
Shen Zhiwei shook his head without answering.
He wasn’t a particularly philanthropic person; if someone collapsed on the street, he wouldn’t necessarily rush over to lift them up, but he would at least call for emergency services.
No matter how crafty Shen Zhiwei was, he was still someone who had grown up in a society governed by the rule of law.
Death came so easily here, catching Shen Zhiwei completely off guard.
“Watch out!” Mo Rubai forcefully shoved Shen Zhiwei aside, the two of them narrowly dodging a streak of black Qi.
That stream of black Qi had no intention of lingering; when its single strike missed, it immediately bolted away.
“It’s demonic Qi.” Shen Zhiwei barely managed to pull himself together. “What was on A-ling just now was demonic Qi.”
Mo Rubai seemed to only just realize that A-ling’s state had been abnormal.
“Is it similar to the demonic Qi in the dungeon?”
Shen Zhiwei’s expression turned gloomy. “Perhaps it’s the exact same stream of demonic Qi.”
That trace of demonic Qi had been able to follow him into the mystic realm—he had no idea what Three-Eight was pulling behind the scenes.
Shen Zhiwei’s words filled Mo Rubai with alarm. “If that’s the case, what will become of the disciples inside the mystic realm?”
“Mm-hnh…” Shen Zhiwei was already unable to reply properly. With a soft “thud,” he dropped to one half-knee on the ground, cold sweat pouring down his face.
“Little Master-Uncle!” Mo Rubai hurried to squat down, completely forgetting about the other disciples as he reached out to touch Shen Zhiwei’s forehead.
His hand came away slick with sweat and burning heat.
“Don’t… don’t touch me.”
With a sharp slap, Shen Zhiwei batted Mo Rubai’s hand away. “You—stay away from me.”
Mo Rubai’s hands were cool and refreshing, making Shen Zhiwei feel wonderfully comfortable when they touched him. But precisely because it felt too good, he had to make the other person back away.
Was the potency of the Illusionary Passion Flower really this overwhelming?
“What kind of talk is that, Little Master-Uncle?” Mo Rubai panicked. “Those two senior sisters told me you were attacked by A-ling. I rushed back in such a hurry, and now you want to chase me away?”
Shen Zhiwei was speechless. Why hadn’t those two female cultivators simply shattered their tokens to summon the other two elders?
Of course, Shen Zhiwei was currently too feverish to think straight; once a token was shattered, it was equivalent to forfeiting the trial, just like Xiangxiang.
“You… why are you completely fine?” Panting heavily, Shen Zhiwei forced himself to look up at Mo Rubai, only to see him looking entirely normal, without the slightest trace of being poisoned.
[If you want to detoxify, it’s not entirely impossible,] Three-Eight’s voice rang out leisurely. [Mo Rubai is the son of destiny; his fluids possess detoxifying properties.]
What the hell? Fluids? Where from? What kind of fluids?!
[So that’s why he didn’t get poisoned?]
[No,] Three-Eight chuckled lightly. [Because he consumed the Soul-Spirit Flower, which is the antidote to the Illusionary Passion Flower. The medicine was absorbed by Mo Rubai, so naturally, he can now be used as an antidote himself.]
If there ever was a case of trying to steal a chicken only to end up losing the rice used as bait, he was living proof of it right now.
Shen Zhiwei fell silent for a brief moment. [Would any fluid work?]
[You are deeply poisoned right now; you need fluids rich in pure Yang energy,] Three-Eight sighed. [Well, figure it out yourself.]
Shen Zhiwei strongly suspected Three-Eight was gloating, but he had no proof. Besides, Three-Eight was technically trying to save him right now.
Fluids rich in pure Yang energy, originating from Mo Rubai…
Shen Zhiwei’s face turned green…