“Martial Uncle, look! What are these? They definitely weren’t here during the day.”
Chu Mingbei stared at the black, clod-like lumps scattered across the ground, his voice tight with lingering fear. The objects were camouflaged against the courtyard soil and hidden beneath grass roots, making them nearly impossible to detect. If not for the faint, rhythmic glimmers of light pulsing within them, Chu Mingbei might have missed them entirely.
Xiang Qingyun peered out from behind Chu Mingbei, her neck craned as she examined the strange lumps with a mixture of curiosity and caution.
Chu Mingnan, however, had just stepped out of the house. The moment his eyes landed on the objects, his face went pale. In one fluid motion, he pulled Xiang Qingyun behind his back and pressed a pill into her mouth.
“Yun’er, be careful! If I’m not mistaken, this is Demon Soil Incense!”
Perfected Zizhu acted instantly, raising his hand to cast a shimmering barrier that sealed the objects within a localized field. “You are correct.” He said, his voice unusually grave. “This is indeed Demon Soil Incense.”
“Demon Soil Incense?” Xiang Qingyun looked at Chu Mingnan in confusion.
Chu Mingnan’s instinctive, gentle smile returned as he explained softly, “It is a vile concoction of the Demon Realm. Once ignited, the scent it releases triggers confusion, bloodlust, and violent frenzy. It affects all living beings, but only demons can detect its scent directly. Others are often consumed by its influence without ever realizing they’ve been compromised. Worse still, it invades the mind through one’s divine sense. Even sealing the six senses cannot block it. One can only resist through sheer willpower or external medicine.”
He turned his gaze toward Perfected Zizhu’s barrier. Inside, the ignited incense glowed with a sinister, dark-red firelight that flickered like a dying heartbeat.
“But we are staying here.” Chu Mingnan mused, his brow furrowing. “With Martial Uncle Zizhu present, who could have planted and ignited this without anyone noticing?”
As he sought Perfected Zizhu’s opinion, his gaze caught Xiang Qingyun’s wide-eyed, shaken expression. The tension in his face softened immediately, replaced by a soothing warmth. “Do not be afraid, Yun’er. We discovered it almost as soon as it was lit. The scent hasn’t had time to spread. And even if it had, the pill I gave you will protect you. You are safe.”
“No!”
A cold, sharp shout cut through his words.
Chu Mingyao’s hands moved in a blur, laying down several protective barriers in rapid succession. She didn’t spare a glance for Chu Mingnan or Xiang Qingyun. Her focus was entirely on the shadows, searching for more hidden traces.
Her voice, heavy with frost, drifted on the night wind, “There is far more incense here than what Little Junior Brother found. Second Junior Brother, stop talking and take out your pills! Wake the villagers and distribute them immediately! And don’t you dare forget Ke’er in that room!”
Chu Mingyao was already at her limit, her emotions barely held in check by a thread of iron resolve.
At a time like this, Chu Mingnan’s world still revolved solely around Xiang Qingyun?
It was becoming undeniable. Even though the timeline had diverged from her nightmare because of her intervention, one thing remained constant— the people around her became unrecognizable the moment they encountered Xiang Qingyun.
As far as she could tell, the only ones immune to that subtle influence were Perfected Zizhu and the little girl Su Ke’er. She held out hope for Chu Mingxi, though his true thoughts were often hard to read. As for the others— Chu Mingdong, Chu Mingnan, Chu Mingbei— they were all compromised. Even the sect master and her own master had fallen into the same pattern of blatant favoritism. There were also the villagers that had spent the last two days chanting praises for Xiang Qingyun’s fairy-like grace, while Guan Jingjing and the outer disciples practically tripped over themselves to share their hard-won secrets with her.
Normally, Chu Mingyao wouldn’t care. People were free to be fools. Meddling would only invite trouble, and she had a singular goal— to live a long life and ascend to immortality. Getting entangled in the drama was a distraction that could cost her her Dao.
But the situation was escalating. Clumps of Demon Soil Incense were appearing everywhere. Chu Mingxi and Chu Mingbei were scouring the grounds, and Perfected Zizhu stood with eyes closed, his divine sense blanketing the area in search of the source.
Yet, in the heat of a crisis, Chu Mingnan was still busy comforting his precious Yun’er.
He knew the lethality of Demon Soil Incense, yet he had prioritized a single person. When he had fed the pill to Xiang Qingyun, the movement was a blur, but Chu Mingyao’s keen senses had caught the scent immediately.
A Mind Steadying Pill.
A Golden Core-grade pill, refined by Chu Mingnan himself. It was a potent tool for entering deep meditation or resisting mental intrusion. The incense in the courtyard wasn’t of a particularly high grade, and a single pill of this quality could have been dissolved in a vat of water to save the entire village.
Chu Mingyao continued to unearth more incense. Based on the pattern of their burial, the trail led straight into the heart of the village. By now, countless innocents might already be succumbing to the bloodlust.
Finally snapping out of his trance, Chu Mingnan’s expression shifted to one of alarm. He grabbed a bottle of pills and rushed toward Su Ke’er’s room.
Sensing his movement with her Divine Sense, Chu Mingyao shook her head. It was just as she feared. Xiang Qingyun’s influence had eroded his judgment. Because she had specifically mentioned Su Ke’er, he had focused only on her. Had he even spared a thought for his own junior brothers, Chu Mingxi and Chu Mingbei?
Fortunately, Chu Mingyao was prepared. The moment Chu Mingnan had panicked over Xiang Qingyun, she had already distributed Mind Steadying Pills to her two junior brothers.
Ironically, the pills she carried were works Chu Mingnan had refined when he first reached the Golden Core stage. The thought tasted bittersweet— a reminder of the junior brother he used to be before the ‘Child of Fate’ arrived.
Suddenly, just as Chu Mingnan reached Su Ke’er’s door, he was violently blasted backward. A spray of blood erupted from his mouth as he slammed heavily into the ground.
Simultaneously, a streak of blinding sword light shot from Perfected Zizhu’s brow, hurtling toward the room. But a surge of black mist rose up, swallowing the building whole. When Perfected Zizhu’s flying sword struck the gloom, it was as if the blade had plunged into a thick, supernatural mire. Its momentum vanished instantly, and no matter how much the spiritual weapon struggled and hummed, it could not advance another inch.
A chilling, rhythmic chuckle drifted from the darkness.
“Waste no more effort. My Black Mist is not so easily unraveled. Had you fully comprehended the Sword Path of Seven Emotions and unified them, you might stand a chance. But as you are now? Heh. Zizhu, this incarnation of mine may not be able to slay you, but you are powerless to stop me!”
Perfected Zizhu gritted his teeth, his face contorted in a rare display of fury. “Ning Wang! To think it was actually you! You dare descend to this realm? Are you not afraid my eldest senior brother will slaughter this incarnation of yours?”
Chu Mingyao’s heart tightened in her chest. She shot a sharp, meaningful look at Chu Mingxi, signaling him to take Chu Mingbei and the others and flee immediately. Staying there would only make them liabilities for Perfected Zizhu.
She, too, was calculating her escape.
This was Ning Wang— the Demon Lord of Death.
Legends claimed his true body in the Demon Realm had reached the peak of the Great Ascension stage and could trigger the heavenly tribulation at any moment. He was a master of a unique incarnation technique, and some said he possessed tens of thousands of clones, each holding at least the power of a True Void cultivator. To enrage him was to invite a siege by an army of high-level existences.
Conflicting rumors followed him like a shadow. Some said he cultivated these clones to hide from the heavens, splitting his power to delay a tribulation he was too terrified to face. Others whispered he was merely a True Void peak cultivator whose foundation had been shattered, forever barring him from Great Ascension.
Regardless of the rumors, those who dared to provoke Ning Wang eventually turned to dust, while he lived on, his True Void incarnations appearing across the realms like a recurring nightmare.
“Ziqiong?” Ning Wang’s laughter grew more disdainful. “If he comes, this incarnation might indeed perish. But before he arrives, I will have more than enough time to finish what I came for.”
Above the room, a portion of the black mist solidified into a massive, ornate throne. Its back and armrests were carved with draconic patterns that pulsed with an overbearing, sovereign aura.
A man dressed in loose, ink-black robes appeared, his dark hair cascading freely down his back. His features were strikingly handsome, yet his blood-red eyes carried a terrifying coldness as he sat leisurely upon his throne, one leg crossed over the other, looking down at the cultivators below as if they were mere insects.
Perfected Zizhu snorted coldly. Recalling his flying sword, he rose into the air until he was level with the demon lord. The blade circled him in a protective arc, humming with spiritual energy, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.
Seated upon his dark throne, Ning Wang remained entirely unperturbed. Instead, his thin, crimson-tinted lips curved into a carefree, mocking smile.
“They are almost here.” Ning Wang mused. “It is time for my departure. I’ll be taking the adorable little half-monster in the room with me. As a parting gift, I’ve scattered quite a bit of unlit Demon Soil Incense throughout this village. I shall leave you the pleasure of hunting it all down.”
He raised a casual hand, and with a violent crack, a massive hole was torn through the roof of the house. Su Ke’er, still wrapped in her blanket and looking small and terrified, flew out through the opening and came to rest beside Ning Wang’s chair.
Ning Wang tilted his head, glancing toward the horizon where three streaks of sword light were rapidly approaching. Then, his gaze dipped, settling on Chu Mingyao, who was quietly edging toward the courtyard’s exit.
He let out a soft, melodic laugh.
The three approaching sword lights were now so close that even Chu Mingyao could identify them— Perfected Ziqiong, Perfected Ziling, and Perfected Ziyi. The heavyweights of the sect had arrived.
Ning Wang ignored the reinforcements, keeping his eyes fixed solely on Chu Mingyao. A faint, unsettling warmth seemed to tint his blood-red eyes. Infusing his voice with demonic power, he made sure his words echoed in every direction, reaching every ear in the village.
“Yao Girl, you’ve worked hard this time.” He crooned. “Watching over this little half-monster for me, even speaking up on my behalf to gain her trust…… Rest assured, I shall remember your service. Once you return to me, I shall grant you everything you are owed. Hahahaha!”
Ning Wang’s laughter thundered across the sky.
A tidal wave of black mist swept across heaven and earth. Before the three incoming masters and Perfected Zizhu could launch a coordinated strike, the demon lord vanished into thin air, taking Su Ke’er with him.
All that remained was the ruined house, the flickering embers of the Demon Soil Incense, and Chu Mingyao, whose expression had turned deathly cold.
She gripped the hilt of her sword so hard her knuckles turned white, her teeth clenched in a silent snarl.
Fine.
Before she ascended to immortality, she would kill Ning Wang first.
Demon Lord of Death? Then let him be the one to die.
To slander her name and frame her for treason out of nowhere, he deserved nothing less than total annihilation. Fortunately, her Heavenly Water Screen had been recording since the very beginning. It would be enough to prove her innocence…… wouldn’t it?