Chapter 95: Falsehood

The thick fog retreated rapidly. As the first faint rays of dawn rose from beyond the mountains, no one dared linger. With one final burst of effort, they shoved the Wrangler back onto the road, fired up the engine, swung around, and sped off.

Gu Xianwang kept her eyes glued to the dashboard navigation while driving. At first, the map was nothing but a blank loading error screen. But as they pulled farther away from that forest, the details reloaded. The destination was still set to Golden Hook Town, not Huima Ridge. The center console clock read 4:47 a.m.—less than an hour since they’d gotten out of the car.

Time inside the Yin Vortex really was a mess. By their reckoning, they’d spent at least half the night in the Mist Forest.

“There’s a medical kit in the trunk,” Gu Xianwang said. “Check your wounds first. There’s a gas station coming up—we can regroup there safely.”

The Wrangler’s cabin wasn’t exactly roomy. Ye Chan had yielded the front passenger seat to Long Li, leaving her and Yang Baibai crammed in the back with the Fat Bird. It was a tight squeeze. And to top it off, the Black Chimpanzee they’d busted their asses to save had bolted into the ridge on the opposite side the moment they cleared the treeline, without so much as a backward glance. She couldn’t help thinking they’d sweated and bled for nothing—talk about rotten luck.

Yang Baibai had a habit of curling up, even in the car, hugging his knees to his chest. Ye Chan wasn’t sure if he was asleep or just out of it; his hand dangled limply, his whole body limp with exhaustion. After watching him for a moment, she felt something dripping steadily down her arm. Straining to peer through the gap, she realized with a jolt that it was blood.

“Hey, where are you hurt?” She nudged his hand.

He didn’t even look up, mumbling hoarsely, “It’s nothing. Worry about yourself.”

The cabin was deathly quiet, thick with the stench of blood. Halfway there, Gu Xianwang cracked the window for some air. As the tinted glass slid down, the view opened up—lush mountains on either side, fresh and inviting in the morning light. She glanced at the woman in the passenger seat, whose long lashes fluttered faintly in the dawn glow, like melting frost.

Was she asleep?

For no reason she could name, Gu Xianwang eased off the gas, driving as smoothly as possible. The night had felt so short, yet its weight had settled heavily on them all. Coming back to herself, she realized just how bone-tired she was—whether from binding the Undying Turtle as her own or from the unrelenting tension, she couldn’t say.

Her body ached with fatigue, but her mind wouldn’t quit. She couldn’t stop wondering: Was it pure coincidence that the Yin Vortex had appeared here?

Before long, the familiar warning sign loomed up alongside the road. They’d reached the gas station.

Gu Xianwang blinked, turning the wheel gently to pull in. She parked tight against the roadside and stared. In the clear morning light, the signboard lay shattered, its bulbs long broken. Rusted pumps slumped on the ground, and the glass doors were locked tight. She pinched the bridge of her nose, a flicker of doubt hitting her. Was this really the place where she’d filled up last night?

Ye Chan cracked one eye and peered out. She looked stunned too. “Wait… did we take a wrong turn or something?”

It was impossible—they hadn’t gone wrong. The navigation pinpoint matched perfectly, and so did the layout. Gu Xianwang wasn’t so scatterbrained that she’d forget in a few hours. She could still picture herself standing right there, watching the pump dial hit full, telling the chubby Little Bro in the red baseball cap, “Make it an even number.” She even remembered the payment counter: no usual cigarettes or energy drinks, just piles of candy and snacks.

Those details were too sharp to be made up.

The fuel gauge—that was proof. But a quick check showed the needle hovering precariously between the last mark and the one before it.

Now she was truly baffled. Even ten round trips to Huima Ridge wouldn’t guzzle nearly a full tank. It had only been a couple hours since they’d fueled up, yet the gauge was right back where it started. Had the night been nothing but a Mist Mirage playing tricks on their eyes? Had they all shared the same hallucination?

Sensing they’d stopped, Long Li slowly opened her eyes and scanned their surroundings. “What’s going on?”

Gu Xianwang’s face was ashen. “Nothing… Let’s get out. I’ll grab the medical kit.”

She hopped out in a hurry, drawing Long Li’s attention as she twisted around to look. Ye Chan spoke up. “This place is all wrong. Last night, it was a perfectly normal gas station—we filled up right here. Now it’s a ghost town. What the hell?”

Long Li hummed in acknowledgment and got out of the car with her. She slowly circled the entire gas station layout. A yellowed notice was posted on the glass door of the small supermarket, announcing its closure in May three years prior, complete with an intact official seal. Peering through the dusty glass inside, she saw empty shelves and scattered scraps of paper and trash on the floor. At first glance, it truly didn’t look like a place that had been open for business the night before.

Gu Xianwang approached from a distance, carrying the medical kit, and glanced inside as well. The layout matched her memory. She forced herself to stay calm and focus on the matter at hand. “Take off your clothes. Let me check that wound.”

Long Li shifted sideways to block the glass door, putting herself between Gu Xianwang and the ruins. She arched an eyebrow with a hint of teasing. “You don’t trust me, just like that?”

Gu Xianwang knew what she meant, but she had no time for banter right now. “Weren’t those your words? ‘I’m not trustworthy—don’t believe me.’ I’m just taking your advice to heart and sticking to it. If you don’t get moving, I’ll do it myself.”

She waggled the alcohol swab and tweezers in her hand, exuding all the authority of a surgeon.

Long Li let out a soft chuckle and shook her head. She reached for her jacket zipper. “When you all stopped here to refuel last night, had the mist already started seeping in?”

Gu Xianwang bent at the waist, pinching the hem of Long Li’s tank top between two fingers and lifting it. The bloodstains on the fabric had dried stiff from soaking up so much, flaking off at the slightest fold. Fortunately, the gauze beneath was dry as well, a sign that her natural healing had kicked in once they were clear of the Yin Vortex. It was the one piece of good news, enough to finally ease the knot of worry in Gu Xianwang’s chest.

“Yeah. Mist was already rising on both sides of the mountain road by the time I got out of the car—visibility was already shot.” She straightened up and scanned the area once more. “You think everything I saw last night was down to the Mist Mirage too?”

Long Li suddenly leaned down to retrieve the bottle of rubbing alcohol from the medical kit on the ground and wash her hands. Her tank top was caked stiff with dried blood. Though Gu Xianwang had let go, it remained half-lifted, exposing a full ring of bandages and lean abdominal muscles streaked with faint smears of blood. The sharp tang of alcohol clung to Long Li’s fingertips. She drew so close it felt like she might pin Gu Xianwang right against the glass door. Too close—Gu Xianwang went rigid, and in her daze, the tweezers and alcohol swab slipped from her grasp into Long Li’s hands.

Long Li tilted her head slightly, the ends of her long hair draping across Gu Xianwang’s stiff outstretched arm. Her eyes stayed locked on the wound at Gu Xianwang’s shoulder, utterly focused.

They hadn’t bothered with any numbing agent on the freshly torn shoulder wound earlier, and now, with Long Li pressing down on it like that, the pain sent tremors through her body.

Fine, play doctor if you want—but did she have to go so hard?

Gu Xianwang shot her a resentful glare, only for Long Li to deflect it with a faint smile as refreshing as a breeze over a mountaintop. “Didn’t you say you could take it a little harder?”

“Don’t use your own body as leverage to get back at anyone,” Long Li said, her tone turning serious as she leaned in to murmur warmly by Gu Xianwang’s ear. “Xianwang, you don’t look so good. These things… they’re not your fault. Just relax, okay?”

An inexplicable electric jolt raced up and down Gu Xianwang’s spine. She recoiled two steps on instinct. “Y-You—don’t change the subject. You snuck off without a word, and I still haven’t grilled you about it.”

Long Li kept a straight face. “You pulled me out of the Yin Vortex, so of course it’s your right to question me. Xianwang, what I owe you… it’s piling up higher by the minute.”

Who asked you to owe me anything? Gu Xianwang grumbled inwardly, though she deflected aloud. “Once we’re settled and I’ve patched you up, you’ll get questioned, no doubt about it. Whatever brought you here, whatever deal you struck—since I fished you out of the Yin Vortex, half this life of yours is mine now.”

“If you try sneaking off again…” She flicked a glance at Long Li. “Anyway, right now, the top priority is finding Master and the others.”

“Hey!” From way off, Yang Baibai came trotting up. He tucked the disinfectant back into the medical kit and made a vague gesture with his hand. “Thanks for handling that thing with the guy.”

“Owe you one.”

What was with today? Everyone lining up to rack up debts with her?

“You let it out… and just let it wander off?”

The Yang Family’s Mimic Mountain Beast technique involved imitating the behavioral patterns, calls, and movements of the mountain beasts from Sole Gate, augmented by unique beast whistles. This allowed practitioners to earn the beasts’ trust and summon their aid in dire situations. Mastering the art boiled down to two essential principles: first, avoid greed—specializing in one species was ideal; second, immerse yourself completely. Most mimickable beasts were social creatures. Solitary predators like lynxes or leopards offered slim chances of summoning help, no matter how perfectly the mimicry was executed. Yang Baibai’s choice of apes had been the smartest possible, and from childhood, he had roamed the forests, growing up immersed among the beasts.

Yang Baibai shrugged. “Humans have their paths, beasts have theirs. No point forcing it. This suits me just fine.”

With that, he abruptly pulled off his gloves. It was the first time Gu Xianwang had seen his hands since their reunion. They hardly resembled an adult’s—joints sharply defined yet exquisitely delicate, as if slathered in lotion every day. Even the slightest scratch would feel like desecration.

He swiped two fingers across the glass door, pinched the dust from his fingertips, and let out a cold chuckle. “Fluorescent Candle Fire. You won it fair and square, so I’ll honor the bet. Tell me what you want.”

Just what she had been waiting for. “No problem. Come with me.”

~~~

Leaving Long Li and Ye Chan behind, the two walked all the way to the end of the highway. Yang Baibai eyed her warily and suddenly blurted, “Hey, you’re not seriously asking me to jump off a cliff, are you?”

“I’m not that bored.” They were far enough now. Gu Xianwang halted and turned to him gravely. “I’ve got one question. Answer me truthfully.”

Yang Baibai blinked. “?”

Gu Xianwang fixed him with a steady gaze. “What exactly is the Forbidden Witch Bone?”

His pupils contracted at the words. “How do you know about the Forbidden Witch Bone?”

“Did your master tell you?” Yang Baibai’s initial shock gave way to contemplation. He furrowed his brow in thought for a long moment before shaking his head. “No, that doesn’t make sense.”

A vein throbbed at Gu Xianwang’s temple. As expected—her master had known about this from the start.

“Just tell me everything you know. You’re a man of your word, aren’t you? No backing out now.”

Yang Baibai tsked, visibly torn. He hemmed and hawed for ages before saying, “We went too far back then. I never imagined you’d still remember after all this time.”

Gu Xianwang froze, caught off guard by the opening. He went on, “But the bad blood between your mother and the Yang Family—tsk. She died under such strange circumstances, and the state you brought her back in… The Yang Family has always been insular, and after that mess with the Long Family, we were on edge.”

Gu Xianwang frowned. “What does any of that have to do with my question?”

Yang Baibai looked unaccountably awkward, scratching at his neck. “Truth be told, we couldn’t figure out why the family head agreed to take you in—letting you attend classes, even allowing an outsider into the Ancestral Hall for a major family meeting. So that time, a few of us snuck up and eavesdropped. We only caught bits and pieces: something about the Forbidden Witch Bone being a vicious curse poison from some cavern, like corpse toxin. Then Yang Baimo piped up that you must have it—that’s why you killed off your parents, and now you were here to curse the Yang Family.”

Gu Xianwang stared, stunned. She had assumed Yang Baibai possessed detailed knowledge, but this was absurdly childish. Had she simply been paranoid about his behavior at the Flower Fair?

“Do you know what Fallen God Fragrance is?”

Yang Baibai frowned in confusion. “What’s that?”

It hit her like a douse of ice water. Undeterred, she pressed, “Then what about my master?”

“Your master? Didn’t he ever tell you about him and your mother?” Yang Baibai looked baffled, his brow creasing deeper. “Even if not, you must know he was originally with Xiang Ling, right?”

“Your mother taught him all our Yang Family techniques, just like that. That’s why we’ve held a grudge against him for stealing our arts. Back then, for your sake, he stormed our Ancestral Hall alone. By the rules, he fought ten rounds against Yang Family members and won, taking you away with him. Not long after, he visited the Yang Family once more. He said your earlier frailty stemmed from your foster father’s car crash unsettling your soul, but now you’d forgotten everything. He urged us to honor the wager: stay away from you and drop all that nonsense about the Forbidden Witch Bone.”

“After completing my apprenticeship… In my pursuit of the truth behind the Long Family Ancient Village, I finally learned that the Forbidden Witch Bone is actually a vicious curse left behind by the Long Family members. It only leaves traces in places where the Human Skin Map appears. Everyone in the martial world who ever got infected did so after encountering ‘marks left by the Long Family members.’ Once you’re infected, it quickly causes mutations, turning you into that… legendary form of the Forbidden Witch. There’s no antidote, and it’s contagious too.”

With that, he shot Gu Xianwang a glance, as if to say he knew she wasn’t afflicted with the Forbidden Witch Bone, so why was she rubbing it in now?

Gu Xianwang froze. Her memories of her time in the Yang Family were indeed hazy. Before going there, she had been in her father’s car accident. She vaguely recalled that it was because of that mishap that her mother had no choice but to send her back to the Yang Family for safekeeping. Later, after the Master appeared, she began her wandering life of training under him.

She had been so young back then that all her memories were fragmented. But now, hearing Yang Baibai’s account, why had the Master suddenly shown up at the Yang Family to take her away? What exactly was his relationship with her birth mother? Had he heard about the Forbidden Witch Bone at that so-called gathering in the Ancestral Hall? When, exactly, had she contracted it?

The Master—what did he know? How much had he kept from her?

Right now, she desperately wanted to find him and demand answers. What was really going on with all of this?

“That’s all I know,” Yang Baibai said with a shrug. “I’m still looking into the rest.”

Gu Xianwang’s mind was a whirlwind of chaos. She was already exhausted in body and spirit, and now her head was filled with a jumble of clues, true and false all tangled up with no way to sort them out. Everyone seemed to see a different version of the truth, pieces that never quite fit together perfectly. Someone was lying, but who?

Her gaze fell on the abandoned gas station, and her heart sank lower and lower. What was real, and what was fake?

Her past, her life, her memories—how much of it truly belonged to her, and how much had been fabricated by others?

She didn’t know.