015 Reject Empty Promises. (Late Extra Chapter)…
Duan Cuo had headed deeper into Demon-Guarding Mountain.
The towering trees blocked most of the sky, leaving only a narrow strip visible along with the bright moon hanging high above. Strangely, the further she ventured, the fewer dead souls lingered around Nan Yao. An eerie silence enveloped the area—not even insect chirps could be heard, only the crunch of dried leaves and twigs beneath her feet.
In just a short while, Duan Cuo’s presence had completely vanished.
Nan Yao grew anxious.
So she anxiously searched for Duan Cuo while munching on osmanthus cakes.
While sipping Jade Nectar, she looked for Duan Cuo.
While eating a banana, she searched for Duan Cuo.
Then she choked on the banana and coughed violently on the spot for a long time.
After recovering, she continued hunting for Duan Cuo while enjoying an ice cream.
Whether she found Duan Cuo remained unknown, but Nan Yao was certainly full.
After eating and drinking her fill, she patted her stomach and decided to take a stroll to aid digestion before heading back.
“Miss Nan Yao, are you looking for me?”
Just as Nan Yao finished her stroll and prepared to return the way she came, a faint male voice suddenly sounded beside her. Startled, she jumped aside and turned to see Duan Cuo.
He had appeared out of nowhere, his complexion slightly rosier than when he left, though he still carried a sickly pallor. Coughing lightly, he spoke gently, “I knew you were different from others, Miss Nan Yao. You wouldn’t abandon me.”
Nan Yao didn’t respond. Instead, she pulled a handkerchief from her spiritual pouch and began wiping her hands clean after the ice cream.
“Since childhood, I’ve traveled between Demon-Guarding Mountain and Nameless City. Truthfully, I’ve spent more time here—it’s almost like home.”
Somehow, Duan Cuo launched into small talk, gazing nostalgically at the sky as he reminisced, “I was born with worthless bones, destined never to cultivate like you or Brother Xie Diao. Fortunately, I’m knowledgeable about herbs and possess medical skills, so I’m not entirely useless.”
After tidying up, Nan Yao stored the handkerchief away. She felt an inexplicable chill around her. Though it was midsummer, the temperature in Demon-Guarding Mountain was unnaturally cold.
So she tugged out her fox fur cloak from the spiritual pouch, wrapped herself snugly, and resumed her journey back.
Duan Cuo kept pace beside her. “But I’ve come to realize that no matter how hard I try, it’s futile. A worthless person remains worthless. People may call me ‘Divine Physician,’ but how can a healer who can’t even restrain a chicken earn true respect…”
Nan Yao wandered in circles for what felt like ages, finding the return path unusually long—as if trapped in a ghost maze with no end in sight.
She was tired.
Truly exhausted.
She should have been sound asleep in her Galaxy Night Rain luxury tent, not circling aimlessly in the cold wind.
Nan Yao refused to endure this injustice.
“Alright, Duan Cuo, if you’re going to make a move, do it now. Spare me the villain monologue.” Nan Yao picked her ear, halting to cut off his rambling, and said earnestly, “Here’s the thing—I’m cold, and I’d like to go back to sleep.”
Duan Cuo stared at her, bewildered. “W-What are you talking about?”
“The Blessed Tree protects Demon-Guarding Mountain from complete invasion by Demonic Creatures, but it needs to absorb people’s kindness and joy to grow and replenish its energy. Similarly, sorrow and resentment cause the Blessed Tree to wither rapidly. You lead group after group of people beneath the Blessed Tree, setting deadly traps that force them to turn on each other, thus rapidly contaminating the tree with emotions saturated in despair and resentment.”
Once the Blessed Tree truly withers, the entire Demon-Guarding Mountain will lose its final protection.
Nan Yao noticed that the deeper she went into the mountain, the fewer dead souls there were.
This indicated the Blessed Tree didn’t just protect that single area—it acted more like a barrier, containing the murderous intent energy at the forefront.
If those people beneath the tree would abandon their entrenched positions and venture deeper into the forest, toward the Demon Realm, they might actually survive.
But Duan Cuo had been deceiving them all along.
At the entrance, he guided countless people to the tree, trapping wave after wave of them in fear until they turned on each other for survival.
What appeared to be a symbol of life and hope had become an absolute death trap.
Nan Yao stared at him: “You’ve always been doing strange things. Claiming to have no cultivation and being weaker than a chicken, yet repeatedly traveling between Demon-Guarding Mountain’s exit and the Blessed Tree; saying you’d seek food and water for those beneath the tree, yet never going to Nameless City to seek help from cultivators when you reached the mountain pass; pretending to save people while never advising anyone to leave this mountain, instead bringing them back to the tree again and again.”
“So you figured it out from the beginning?” Duan Cuo’s voice turned sinister.
“Not exactly, I only pieced it together later,” Nan Yao replied frankly. “My mother wrote in her book, ‘Men who make empty promises to girls are all scoundrels.’ You started making grand promises the moment we entered the mountain, so I knew you couldn’t be a good man. That’s why I’ve always been suspicious of you, and after careful consideration just now, everything became clear.”
“…”
Damn.
That was his logic?
Duan Cuo burst into laughter, stepping back with arms spread wide. A fierce wind howled behind him, making his blue sleeves flutter wildly. Spiderweb-like patterns emerged on the skin of his right cheek, shedding like peeling plaster to reveal terrifying black Ghost Qi underneath.
“Miss Nan Yao, from the moment I first saw you, I knew you were special.”
The fierce wind wrapped around Nan Yao like invisible shackles. Duan Cuo’s figure dissolved into the night like a ghost, then reappeared behind her, his chin resting on her shoulder as he sniffed her scent like a snake.
“Innate Spirit Bone, Divinely Fated Destiny,” Duan Cuo whispered. “By extracting your spirit bone and taking your Inner Core, I can change my fate and be reborn, no longer bound to this Demon-Guarding Mountain.”
Forget all that.
What really bothered Nan Yao was how itchy it felt having Duan Cuo leaning on her shoulder like this—especially with his hair constantly tickling her face… making it even itchier!
She couldn’t hold back three consecutive sneezes, tears springing to her eyes.
Sniffling, her nose still tingled uncomfortably, but with her hands restrained, she couldn’t even rub it.
She was angry.
Thoroughly, completely angry.
Nan Yao said: “Don’t touch me.”
I’m warning you.
Nan Yao had not yet returned, but the anomaly clearly arrived faster.
Even Qi Guyuan noticed it—the Blessed Tree before them was turning yellow at an astonishing rate, and its abundant protective energy was growing weaker and weaker.
The dead souls couldn’t breach the barrier Xie Diao had set up, so they turned and swarmed toward the Blessed Tree instead.
“Hurry! Push some people out!”
“They’re coming in—these monsters are breaking through!”
Panic erupted beneath the Blessed Tree as people shoved those around them. One after another, those too weak to resist were pushed out. The dead souls surged over in a frenzy, draining their vital energy, while corpse walkers, drawn by the scent, tore into their bodies, even crushing and devouring their bones.
“The Blessed Tree… is withering faster now.”
The dense leaves rustled in the wind, falling in unison, and even the red ribbons hanging from the branches scattered loosely across the ground. The people beneath the tree screamed in terror, watching helplessly as the corpse walkers shattered the Blessed Tree’s protection and lunged at them.
Only then did they finally think of Xie Diao, scrambling over each other to rush toward him. But many were torn apart before they could even reach him.
Xie Diao yawned. He was tired.
“Could the direction Miss Nan Yao went be more dangerous? Duan Cuo seemed so familiar with the terrain—he probably wouldn’t lead her toward danger, right? But if something really happened, I doubt someone like Duan Cuo would be much help.” Qi Guyuan snapped out of his daze.
Yu Chichi grew more uneasy the more she thought about it. “Even though Young Master Duan Cuo seems kind and righteous, you said he’s even frailer than you are. How could he move so freely through Demon-Guarding Mountain?”
“…” Something didn’t feel right.
“…” It really didn’t.
Xie Diao’s gaze shifted slightly, landing on the Red Cherry Fruit that had been bitten once and then shoved back into his hand by Nan Yao.
Perhaps it had been exposed to the air for too long—the flesh had begun to yellow slightly, now lying pitifully to the side, mixed in with leftover scraps.
Xie Diao stood up.
Qi Guyuan noticed Xie Diao’s movement and reached out to grab his sleeve. “Brother Xie Diao, I want to go with you—”
“Not taking requests,” Xie Diao said flatly. “We’re closed for the day.”
With that, he stepped outside the barrier.
“Where are you going?” Qi Guyuan asked.
Xie Diao didn’t look back. “Digesting. Taking a walk.”
Dead souls poured deep into the forest, streaming endlessly toward one direction.
They brushed past Xie Diao but made no move to attack him, as if regarding him as one of their own.
Xie Diao could see clearly.
In his eyes, every person was surrounded by varying degrees of malice and bloodlust. From the moment he first saw Duan Cuo, he had been able to see the flood of vengeful spirits swirling around him like savage beasts.
But what did that have to do with him?
He had seen too many people.
Too many had died by his hand, and even he couldn’t clearly say why he had killed them. To Xie Diao, many things simply happened without reason.
But still.
Why did he feel this way?
Something that interesting… dying at the hands of such a fool would be a pity.
Finally, at the center of the converging vengeful spirits, Xie Diao saw Nan Yao.
She was so small, seeming frail and delicate—a body so fragile it could be snapped with one hand—wrapped within the howling mass of resentful spirits and dead souls.
These dead souls continuously surged into Duan Cuo’s body. His eyes were bloodshot, his entire body covered in ugly web-like patterns, with dark energy emanating from his skin.
His large hand, blackened by contamination from ghost qi, tightly gripped Nan Yao’s waist. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, like a greedy wolf tearing at its prey.
Tears welled in the corners of Nan Yao’s slightly reddened eyes, her voice carrying a delicate softness and sob: “Don’t touch me.”
Author’s note:
Nan Yao: What? From a third-person perspective, sneezing actually looks like this?