What was there worth saving about a group of evil, selfish, and corrupt people?
Was the Mountain God like this? Was Ling Xiao like this? Just because they were “human”?
And what about her? Wasn’t she human too? Did she not deserve salvation?
Just as Zhuo Jinwen was about to climb up to her grandmother’s grave, her body suddenly tilted. Control returned to her—an overwhelming force yanked her into the air.
“Ling Xiao!”
In midair, their eyes met. She shouted his name.
The next second, she was dragged away and thrown onto a tree halfway up the mountain, completely immobilized.
“I move quickly. You won’t feel pain.”
The Mountain God appeared before her. His voice carried no warmth, only the cold sharpness of a blade aimed at her.
With the Immortal-Falling Pool suppressed beneath the mountains, the next step was to strip away her remaining life force—to erase the fragment of soul that had leaked into the world.
“You were allowed to live as a human for eighteen years. That is already mercy. It’s time to return. Your divine punishment is not over.”
Zhuo Jinwen gave a faint snort.
“I don’t need your mercy. My birth follows the natural order of the Heavenly Dao. Just like I won’t die by your hand now.”
The Mountain God’s blade suddenly stopped midair.
It could not advance even half an inch.
Blood dripped from the blade’s edge, falling drop by drop into the soil like burning sparks searing the earth.
The Mountain God looked at the man gripping the blade with his bare hand.
“You are defying divine will.”
“God?” Ling Xiao scoffed. “What kind of nonsense is that?”
He wrenched the blade away barehanded, ignoring the wound, then lifted Zhuo Jinwen onto his shoulder and ran.
The Mountain God tried to stop him—but another figure blocked the way.
It was Xiao Kui, the puppet Zhuo Jinwen had created.
Zhuo Jinwen turned her head back.
“Liu Qingshan, guess why the people on the mountaintop suddenly went silent?”
The Mountain God froze for a brief moment—not only because of the name “Liu Qingshan,” but because he sensed it.
The villagers on the summit had been restrained by hundreds of puppets she had deployed.
“Save them or save yourself again? Great and merciful Mountain God… which will you choose?”
She laughed—but there was no joy in it.
Ling Xiao rushed into the dense fog carrying her. Visibility dropped to less than a meter, slowing him down.
“Don’t stop. I’ll guide you,” she said weakly.
The binding force on her body had not vanished. She could not free herself—she could only rely on him.
On Ling Xiao.
A man who did not belong to Old Nest Village, nor to this mountain.
Ling Xiao hesitated.
“Will you hurt the people on the mountain?”
Zhuo Jinwen frowned.
“What, planning to become the next Mountain God? So concerned about them now?”
He stopped.
“I serve the people. That’s not an empty slogan.”
“They won’t die,” she cut him off. “They are favored by the gods. They’ll live. But if you hesitate another half minute, I will die.”
That made him move again.
He sprinted through the forest, following her instructions, dodging collapsed trees and exposed rocks.
Soon, figures appeared in the fog, rushing toward them.
Ling Xiao’s scalp tingled.
“What are those? Humans?”
“Tch.” Zhuo Jinwen sounded impatient. “Not humans. Straw puppets controlled by Liu Qingshan. He killed Xiao Kui.”
The Mountain God had chosen the villagers first, so he was using these puppets to delay them.
The puppets attacked.
“Don’t fight them directly. Smear your blood on them,” she said.
Ling Xiao hesitated, then struck one. Blood touched it—and the puppet instantly froze.
He moved forward, one palm strike at a time, using blood marks to disable them all.
“Are they afraid of human blood?” he asked.
“No. They’re afraid of your blood,” she replied. “Your fate is special. You are protected by a righteous deity. Your blood is as effective as high-grade talismans.”
Ahead, the terrain flattened into a forest.
And there, voices echoed.
The fog parted slightly, revealing a scene.
A sect hall. A woman in white, gravely injured.
A betrayal.
A massacre.
A bamboo forest soaked in blood.
A mountain gate reduced to corpses.
And then—
A man in green robes standing behind it all.
“Master… I just wanted the sect leader position!”
“You wicked disciple!”
And further scenes—blood, slaughter, revenge, collapse.
Zhuo Jinwen covered Ling Xiao’s eyes.
“There’s nothing worth seeing. Let’s go.”
He nodded silently and increased his speed.
But the fog shifted again.
This time, it was not sect history.
It was something far more humiliating.
“Uncle! I’m an adult now! What college student doesn’t date? I’m handsome, popular—do you really need to break into a hotel window to catch me?”
“You brat! If you break your vow today, your future wife will swallow you whole!”
A chaotic scene: an old man chasing a young Ling Xiao around a hotel room, while a stunned senior student stood frozen at the door.
Ling Xiao coughed awkwardly.
“Nothing worth watching. Let’s go.”
He ran faster than before.
Zhuo Jinwen lightly laughed behind him.
“Handsome, popular, huh?”
Ling Xiao’s ears turned red.
He could not face his past self.