Qu Xiangxiang covered her eyes, pointing at the enormous spider—half the height of a building, with a hairy ghostly face—and exaggeratedly mouthed: “What is that thing?”
Even the corpse hadn’t shocked her this much. She felt that if she looked at it any longer, she wouldn’t need to cultivate immortality—she’d ascend on the spot.
“…Ghost-Faced Spider.” Mu Hanzhang gestured to a spot less than three feet away from the creature. “The Soul-Losing Grass is right there.”
Qu Xiangxiang forced herself to glance. The grass glowed faintly gold, already budding. No wonder it had attracted the tiger bee.
“What do we do now?” she whispered urgently.
“Get closer. Use the Zhuoyue Whip to hook it out.”
Reluctantly, she summoned Zhuoyue, face twisted in misery. “Go.”
The whip lashed out, neatly snagging the grass. She sighed in relief, tugged hard—and nothing moved. What?
She gripped the whip with both hands, straining with all her strength. The grass remained rooted, unmoving.
“Help me!”
Mu Hanzhang narrowed his eyes. “Once the grass is pulled, the Ghost-Faced Spider will awaken.”
Her hands froze on the whip. Brother, please—don’t act mysterious at a time like this!
Qu Xiangxiang wanted to cry, even bite him. “You only tell me now?”
Mu Hanzhang frowned. “Did you ask?”
Qu Xiangxiang: “…” She nearly cursed aloud.
He calmly grasped part of the whip. “I’ll count to three. We pull together. Then—run.”
Qu Xiangxiang: “…” She wanted to yank up every blade of grass in the world and throw it at his face. But she inhaled deeply. Fine. You’re the male lead. My life’s in your hands.
“One… two…” While she wasn’t looking, Mu Hanzhang cast a spell along the whip. The grass stirred as if alive, roots writhing. “Three—run!”
Qu Xiangxiang stuffed the grass into her arms. Together they bolted for the exit.
The Ghost-Faced Spider shook its grotesque face, eyes like black beads swiveling. Realizing the grass was gone, it shrieked and lunged, eight legs pounding after them.
“How can two legs outrun eight!” Qu Xiangxiang wailed in despair.
Mu Hanzhang’s demonic aura had awakened but not yet broken its seal. Still, a spider was no real threat. If not for Qu Xiangxiang, he’d already be free.
“Your talisman pouch—get the barrier charm!”
She fumbled out a talisman glowing faint yellow. Searching her memory, she froze. “I—I don’t know how to use it!”
Why should she suffer for the original host’s ignorance? Help!
Mu Hanzhang nearly slipped, cursing her incompetence. His sword hand twitched, ready. He snatched the talisman from her and infused it with demonic energy. “Open!”
A radiant barrier flared, blocking the spider and lighting the cave ahead.
The monster roared, slamming against the barrier again and again, tireless and enraged.
“Run,” Mu Hanzhang said tersely. “It won’t hold long.”
Before he finished, Qu Xiangxiang bolted faster than a rat.
Mu Hanzhang: “…” She really didn’t look very bright. Which, oddly, made some of her words more believable.
Near the exit, Qu Xiangxiang leaned against the wall, panting, pulling out her waterskin. She couldn’t run anymore. But as she tilted it back for a sip, rustling sounded behind. Startled, she choked, coughing violently, dropping the waterskin. She staggered forward, slipped on the fallen pouch, and skidded uncontrollably. Trying to brace against the mossy wall only made her slide faster.
“Bang!” She screamed as she crashed into Mu Hanzhang’s back—he had just emerged from the cave, barely catching his breath.
Mu Hanzhang: “…”
Before he could even get angry, a massive ball of spider silk slammed into her back.
Qu Xiangxiang wailed, nearly in tears. Tragedy was always the product of many causes. Now she understood that truth all too well.
“Qu Xiangxiang?” Mu Hanzhang spun, shocked, catching her battered body. His phoenix eyes trembled, expression unreadable. “Why?”
Qu Xiangxiang: “…” Uh… did he misunderstand? Forget it. She was already like this. Only a fool wouldn’t seize the chance.
Eyes brimming with tears, she whispered weakly: “I… I didn’t want you to die… cough… before… I… I…”
Before she could finish “I’m sorry,” she fainted in his arms.
Still stunned, Mu Hanzhang barely reacted before the Ghost-Faced Spider burst out, eight legs stretching, spewing silk. His hands trembled as he held her, gaze falling on her pale face. A voice in his mind screamed to leave this vicious fool here. That way, he wouldn’t need to kill her himself, nor draw suspicion.
But in the end, he set her aside gently. His power had only just awakened. If she died during the trial, it would draw too much attention to him as her “teammate.” That was not what he wanted.
Expression blank, he drew his sword. His eyes flashed, turning a demonic crimson. “Overestimating yourself.”
A red light split the sky, staining half the mountain night in blood. A piercing roar echoed—then silence.
The vision vanished as if it had never been. The mountain remained tranquil.