Chapter 28

Jiang Yiguang leaned against the sofa with her eyes closed, resting.

Fu Juan, ashen-faced, endured the agony of the ghostly Miasma’s backlash without making a single sound.

The doctor could do nothing about the “Ghost-Baleful Qi” lurking in Fu Juan’s legs and could only suppress it temporarily with medicine. Her current task was to treat the “internal injuries” caused by Fu Juan’s excessive channeling of magical power. “Using Blood to Forge a Sword” easily damaged one’s foundation and bones. It was only because Fu Juan had cultivated since childhood that she wasn’t bedridden for seven or eight days like an ordinary cultivator. Even so, it was still excruciatingly painful.

“That Ghost King’s baleful energy is indeed formidable. The medicinal ingredients from the Mortal Realm simply can’t eradicate it. Perhaps we truly need to find Kunlun to resolve this issue,” the doctor said gently, adjusting her glasses.

The “Kunlun” she referred to wasn’t the Kunlun Mountain of the Human Realm but the “Western Kunlun” ruled by the Queen Mother of the West in the Mountains and Seas Realm. “South of the Western Sea, along the shores of the drifting sands, behind the Red River, before the Black River, there is a great mountain called the Hill of Kunlun… This mountain has all things in abundance.” In the Mythical Era, the Human Realm and the Mountains and Seas weren’t separated. But by the era of King Yu, “Yu divided the land, following the mountains to cut down trees, establishing the high mountains and great rivers”—he forged the Nine Cauldrons to anchor the Human Path Fortune of Shenzhou, tamed the floods, straightened the mountain and river Dragon Veins, and expelled the Mountains and Seas Realm. The Mythical Era gradually came to an end, and later generations rarely saw any legends of Mountains and Seas Demons.

However, in recent years, both the Xuanzhen Dao Court and the Mystic Sect families had divined the outcome “Revival of Mountains and Seas Realm.”

This meant that Western Kunlun was also highly likely to return to the human world.

“If the day comes when Kunlun enters the world, Jiang Li will definitely not—” The doctor’s words were interrupted by Fu Juan before she could finish. Her light, weak voice still carried a firm, stubborn conviction.

She said, “I’ll search for the remedy myself.”

The doctor laughed despite herself, looking down at the distant Fu Juan, and ultimately said no more. She packed up her tools. It was several minutes before she spoke again, instructing, “You need ample rest and absolutely must not exert yourself again.”

Fu Juan made a noncommittal “Mn.” Her lashes were lowered, and her fingers tapped lightly on her leg, lost in thought.

The doctor found time to glance at Jiang Yiguang. Having treated Fu Juan for the past eight years, she knew she was a stubborn, obstinate person who refused to listen to advice and was unwilling to show weakness before anyone. That temperament was somewhat similar to the former Zhang Xuanji, perhaps even more pronounced. After some thought, the doctor gave Fu Juan an injection. Even if the medication couldn’t fully suppress the pain, it would at least grant her a good dream.

With Jiang Yiguang looking after her tonight, there shouldn’t be any problems.

When Jiang Yiguang’s consciousness returned to her body, the doctor was preparing to leave.

Truthfully, she had come out of the Eternal Space much earlier, but prolonged practice of the Heavenly Stars divine power “Scatter Beans to Form Soldiers” had left her shrouded in a Daoist nature, which she had been perceiving in that meditative state.

The doctor didn’t have much to say, and Jiang Yiguang couldn’t think of anything to talk about either. It was only when seeing her off that she managed a “Thank you.”

“Take good care of her,” the doctor replied gently.

Jiang Yiguang didn’t even have time to refuse before the doctor strode away. The lights in the quiet hallway turned on, and the sound of the elevator running was exceptionally clear.

Jiang Yiguang turned back to look at Fu Juan.

She seemed to have fallen asleep, her face relaxing, the lines of pain smoothed away, looking like a piece of ice slowly melting.

Fu Juan was much cuter when she was asleep. Jiang Yiguang’s thoughts drifted aimlessly.

She walked lightly over to Fu Juan and crouched down in front of her. But the moment she realized what she was doing, she abruptly stood back up. Her movement was so violent that she stumbled and plopped onto the sofa. Rubbing her temples, she suddenly thought: Sleeping in a wheelchair isn’t good for your neck or back, is it? Did “caring for her” entail helping her into bed? If so, Fu Juan would kill her when she woke up, right?

“Thank you,” Fu San said, hesitating for a long while before forcing out the words in a small, awkward voice.

Jiang Yiguang acknowledged with an “Mn” and automatically slipped into sarcasm mode. “You think I wanted to?”

Fu San choked at her words. It took a long while before it asked awkwardly, “Will you stay?” In that battle, its own spiritual nature had been greatly drained. Fu Yi and Fu Er still hadn’t returned. On its own, it would be difficult to care for the unconscious Fu Juan properly. Right now, the only person it could rely on was Jiang Yiguang, whom it had so disliked before.

“Guess?” Jiang Yiguang raised an eyebrow at Fu San. She wandered around the living room with her arms crossed for a long time before slowly heading to the kitchen. Her senses at that moment were exceptionally sharp; she could feel Fu San following her closely, but she didn’t mind. In a corner of the kitchen, she found a handful of soybeans and muttered incantations like “Disciple respectfully informs the Patriarch” before scattering them on the ground.

“Jiang Yiguang, you—” Fu San was indignant at her wasting food, but when it sensed the emergence of one spiritual presence after another, the entire little paper doll shuddered. If it could truly manifest as a human, its expression would undoubtedly be one of extreme shock. Because it had just witnessed Jiang Yiguang, that slacker, successfully use the divine power “Scatter Beans to Form Soldiers” and even command the mountain-splitting, sea-parting Yellow-Scarf Divine Soldiers to do chores!

She had to care for the injured Fu Juan but didn’t want the plot dragging her into some inexplicable, bizarre relationship with Fu Juan… After mulling it over, Jiang Yiguang finally found a perfect solution.

Let the soldiers summoned by Scatter Beans to Form Soldiers do the caregiving. She could even practice her Daoist arts at the same time—absolutely flawless! Lowering her head to glance at the dozen or so ordinary soybeans on the floor, a hint of regret flickered in her eyes. In the Eternal Space, the failure rate wasn’t that high. Was it an issue of proficiency? Or was the purity of spiritual energy in this world simply still insufficient?

She pondered a while before directly giving up on such complex thoughts. If the sky fell, the Xuanzhen Dao Court would hold it up anyway. This single short day felt as long as a lifetime. After all kinds of shocks and scares, she needed sleep to replenish her strength. It was late, and going home would be troublesome. With that thought, she comfortably located the guest room, made the bed, wrapped herself up like a cocoon, and fell into a deep, sweet dream.

That sleep lasted until the sun was high in the sky.

When she saw the unfamiliar cold-gray tones, her sluggish brain slowly started working, and she finally realized she was lying in the guest room of Fu Juan’s apartment.

Jiang Yiguang sat bolt upright. She rubbed her eyes, tidied herself up as quickly as possible, and opened the guest room door.

After a long night, the spiritual energy of the Yellow-Scarf Divine Soldiers had completely dissipated, and the unconscious Fu Juan had woken up, returning to her usual distant, cold demeanor.

Everything seemed no different from before. But the moment Jiang Yiguang stepped out in her slippers, she still felt a wave of embarrassment.

Because it wasn’t just Fu Juan sitting in the living room.

She could directly ignore the three little ones—Fu Yi, Fu Er, and Fu San—but Qi Ji, a whole person so solidly there, was impossible to pretend not to see.

“You’re here too?” Qi Ji also spotted Jiang Yiguang and raised her eyebrows with a smile. “Perfect timing. Saves me another trip to the Jiang household.”

Jiang Yiguang: “Hm?”

Qi Ji beckoned her over and explained, “The Fox Immortal Temple on Southern Mountain was a mission from the Xuanzhen Dao Court, and you also participated. You naturally have a share in the mission rewards. The Dao Court’s earlier assessment was wrong; the current reward is calculated based on its true danger rating.”

Jiang Yiguang nodded slowly.

She had indeed participated. Though she disliked the Xuanzhen Dao Court, she wouldn’t refuse something freely offered. After politely saying “Thank you,” she asked, puzzled, “How could the rating be wrong? I heard the Noble Clans also sent people to survey Southern Mountain’s feng shui and energy flows.”

Qi Ji: “There were masking methods involved, likely set up by the same person who carved the Devil-Refining Incantation in the cave.” She thought for a moment and added, “We haven’t found any clues yet, but the Dao Court will investigate as quickly as possible.”

Fu Juan didn’t spare Jiang Yiguang a single glance, only looked at Qi Ji seriously and asked, “How is that senior?”

Qi Ji shrugged. “The ghostly baleful energy on her isn’t so easy to dissipate. We can only seal and suppress her for now.”

Fu Juan asked again, “How did she appear?”

Qi Ji: “Archaeological excavations are something we can’t stop. No one imagined her spirit could still exist in the world. When excavating ancient tombs, they usually invite some people in the trade. This time, they invited the Zhao family, and it was the Zhao family who brought out the Soul-Nourishing Wood. As for anything else, we haven’t discovered anything for now.”

“She died of illness after the fall of Southern Qi and wasn’t buried with the Last Ruler of Qi. Her tomb was on a Dragon Vein. Nourished by the Dragon Vein and the Soul-Nourishing Wood, it’s not so surprising that her spirit survived until now.”

Jiang Yiguang couldn’t resist interrupting, “But the moment she emerged, the Southern Mountain incident happened, using the Nine-Tailed Fox as bait, trying to lure her into the cave and turn her into a Ferocious Ghost… This whole thing is far from ordinary, isn’t it? Who could have known the Nine-Tailed Fox would provoke her? Someone from ancient times? Or perhaps the Wang family, who were connected to that Daoist Wang back then?” Jiang Yiguang had no scruples and didn’t mind guessing the worst of people, especially families she disliked.

Qi Ji and Fu Juan fell silent for a few breaths, neither following Jiang Yiguang’s conjecture.

Fu Juan asked, “Has the Nine-Tailed Fox really disappeared?”

Qi Ji rubbed her forehead. “There truly is no trace of the Nine-Tailed Fox’s aura left in Head Hill Cave. But that senior seems certain the Nine-Tailed Fox is still in the human world.” The pace of spiritual energy revival was accelerating, and more and more bizarre events were occurring. Meanwhile, the Mystic Sect families were vying to take the lead and unwilling to cooperate with the Dao Court. Too many matters were piling up, and the Dao Court was struggling to cope.

Jiang Yiguang raised her eyebrows. “She doesn’t still intend to find the Nine-Tailed Fox, does she?” Judging from the illusion, the relationship between the two wasn’t exactly pure, but she saw no possibility of reconciliation. “Annihilation” seemed more likely. That shred of obsession the Nine-Tailed Fox held onto probably still hoped for a different ending, but Fu Juan was a cold-hearted person who had directly shattered the dream.

Fu Juan frowned. “When her Dao attainment wasn’t high, she was already a Nine-Tails. That suggests she was born a Azure Hill Celestial Fox. A thousand years ago, there were people from the Azure Hill Nation entering the human world…”

“But even after the Mythical Era ended, related rumors still surfaced now and then, didn’t they? Like the story of the Queen Mother of the West and King Zhou, or the Queen Mother gifting medicine to the Han Emperor,” Qi Ji, knowing what Fu Juan was worried about, pressed her forehead. “It’s unlikely this was set up a thousand years ago. The innate gods and ferocious beasts of the Mythical Era are only asleep. Occasionally, some spill into the human world, which is quite ordinary. What I fear now… is that the Mountains and Seas Realm… and the human world will overlap once more.”

The Classic of Mountains and Seas records: “The Mountain of Azure Hill… has a beast, shaped like a fox but with nine tails, its cry like a baby’s, and it can devour humans.”

A Azure Hill Nine-Tailed Fox was an existence even more dangerous and unique than a Ghost King. Not because of its immense power, but because it might represent the revival of the Mountains and Seas faction behind it.

Fu Juan’s thoughts went further. Before her parents’ accident, she had heard about the “Calamity of Mountain and Sea,” which was even worse than the emergence of a Ghost King. “Legend says King Yu used the Nine Cauldrons and Dragon Veins to suppress the Mountains and Seas Realm. Later, the Nine Cauldrons were lost in the Sishui River, their whereabouts unknown, leaving only the Dragon Veins to suppress it. After the spiritual energy revival, every divination result has been ‘Revival of Mountains and Seas Realm.’ Does that mean something changed with the Dragon Veins?”

Qi Ji’s expression was grave. “Yes.”

Listening nearby, Jiang Yiguang’s head throbbed painfully.

Why did this feel like a hell-mode difficulty? Could she really escape her dreadful fate? Maybe dying outright would be better than “a living death”? Jiang Yiguang listened dully and mentally summarized the Southern Mountain affair: not over, no conclusions.

“You can’t take the Nine-Cycle Pill directly. Nurturing Origin Pills, Foundation-Solidifying Pills, Returning Origin Pills, and the like for replenishing qi—those you can take,” Fu Juan spoke, sorting through the quest rewards laid on the coffee table, her eyes downcast, pushing a large portion toward Jiang Yiguang.

“Huh? Oh.” Jiang Yiguang hadn’t expected Fu Juan to instruct her like this. She snapped to attention, staring fixedly at Fu Juan. The turbulent emotions driven by fate had calmed to a slow trickle, but they could still affect her. Without meticulously counting the “reward items,” she scooped them up casually. She called out, “Fu Juan.”

When Fu Juan looked up at her, Jiang Yiguang suddenly didn’t want to speak anymore.

Without a word of farewell, she grabbed her things and left the apartment.

After the door clicked shut, Fu Juan withdrew her gaze and cast a chilly glance at Fu San.

Fu San shuddered, its mind filled with only the words “settling scores later.”

Fu Juan rubbed her forehead and murmured, “I know my own limits. Don’t do this again next time.” She paused, her feelings complicated. “Yesterday she—”

Before Fu Juan could finish, Fu San blurted out quickly, “She used talisman beans to summon Yellow-Scarf Divine Soldiers to clean and look after you. But as for herself, she went straight into the guest room and slept soundly.” Saying this, Fu San felt a bit indignant. Jiang Yiguang’s attitude showed she didn’t take Little Juan seriously at all. But if she had truly cared for Little Juan with the utmost attention, that would also be strange.

“She’s different from before,” Fu San said, spinning its head around, then suddenly added in terror, “Could she be afflicted by something evil?”

Fu Juan: “…” For a moment, such speculation had also crossed her mind, but reason had quashed it. “Perhaps Aunt Jiang left her something.” The suffocating, oppressive feeling Jiang Yiguang used to provoke in her had diminished. She could see Jiang Yiguang’s inner struggle, but she couldn’t see through her heart.