Chapter 37

Fang Zhichun, a true expert of the Miracle Hand Sect, was the blood sister of Medicine Peak’s peak lord Fang Zhiyi. Both hailed from the prestigious Fang medical clan of the Miracle Hand Sect. But during her studies abroad, Fang Zhiyi found that Nine Abyss Sect’s “Living to Death Peak” aligned better with her ideals, so she left home and joined Nine Abyss Sect.

The sisters had grown up together, both cultivating the medical dao, often competing with each other. Fang Zhiyi went to Nine Abyss Sect, while Fang Zhichun naturally stayed in the Miracle Hand Sect, intent on continuing her medical studies to rival her sister. In terms of reputation, Fang Zhichun—the renowned healer saving lives—far outshone Fang Zhiyi, but in cultivation realm, she fell short.

When Fang Zhiyi stepped into the first layer of the Cave Heaven realm, Fang Zhichun was still at the second layer of Soul Transformation. It was precisely because of Fang Zhiyi’s occasional “concern” that Fang Zhichun found her annoying and blocked her in a fit of anger.

Fang Zhiyi replied: “No.”

Fang Zhichun glanced at the Clear Heart Subdue Demon Pill and sneered. She sent the pill formula to Fang Zhiyi and added, “Young friend Yan Zhichuan from Nine Abyss Sect has already brought out the formula, and she even produced the finished pill. Do you still need to hide it? The Subdue Demon Spirit Grass concerns the great cause of demon extermination—how can you hoard it for personal gain?”

Fang Zhiyi: “…” Hearing Yan Zhichuan’s name, her eyelids twitched. For Fang Zhichun to say this meant that lump she’d refined had been recognized. Others lacked the insight to see it was a Dao Pill, but Fang Zhichun wasn’t simple. As for the Subdue Demon Spirit Grass… Fang Zhiyi’s thoughts raced, and she guessed it was seeds from the sect leader!

She and her fellow disciples often gathered heavenly materials and earthly treasures for Yan Zhichuan. The sect leader—her senior sister—was a Sword Cultivator who didn’t know their value, so she’d given the vitality-infused seeds to little Zhichuan to play with? The more Fang Zhiyi thought about it, the more likely it seemed. Her face darkened, and she immediately set aside her work, transforming into a streak of swift light that shot toward the serene Nine Abyss Peak.

But Yan Jizhi didn’t appear. Zhong Zhanxi opened the door.

Fang Zhiyi’s expression grew subtly odd as she stared at Zhong Zhanxi, back and forth. In the end, she decided not to waste words on her. She asked, “Where’s the sect leader?” Before Zhong Zhanxi could respond, she added, “Junior Sister Zhong, go wake her up.”

“No need for that.” Zhong Zhanxi straightened her disheveled collar and said seriously, “You’re just in time—there’s been an incident at the Three Ways River Ruins.”

Fang Zhiyi’s eyes sharpened. “Hm?”

Moments later, several streaks of light flashed through the azure clouds as the sect’s other true experts arrived.

Yan Jizhi sat cross-legged in the hall, draped in a thin outer robe, looking half-asleep. These fellow disciples were her closest kin, so Yan Jizhi paid little mind to her appearance. In a few words, she briefly recounted the Underground Palace incident at the Three Ways River. At the end, she added, “Junior Sister went in to check. The demonic qi remnants in the palace have dissipated, and the corridors hold the zombified corpses of predecessors. Once processed, bury them in the Immortal Mound.”

“Good thing nothing worse happened.” Hearing it had been handled, Fang Zhiyi let out a sigh of relief.

“The Xuanmen has become a sieve full of leaks—isn’t that bad enough?” Blade Peak’s lord Shi Wujing propped her cheek, drawling slowly.

Those processed Demon Cultivators weren’t infiltrating as rogue cultivators anymore; they’d usurped the identities of various sects’ daoists. Even Chongxu Sect had Demon Cultivators sneaking in. If the younger generation of daoists was like this, what about their peers? Had they been corroded too? Who had been corroded, and how? After all, several in Sky Nether City Grotto-Heaven were Xuanmen defectors.

“After this, the sects will surely conduct thorough purges,” Yan Jizhi said calmly, her eyelashes lowered.

The group discussed the Three Ways River Demon Cultivators and Demon Clan matters for a while before dispersing one by one. But Fang Zhiyi didn’t leave. She stared intently at Yan Jizhi, who looked ready to collapse at any moment, and said, “In the future, if you get any rare seeds, don’t give them to little Zhichuan first—bring them to my peak.”

Yan Jizhi: “?”

Fang Zhiyi continued, “Little Zhichuan refined a batch of Clear Heart Subdue Demon Pills, including the long-extinct Subdue Demon Spirit Grass.”

Yan Jizhi had been about to say “I didn’t give it,” but the words died on her lips. She nodded and said, “Alright.”

But Fang Zhiyi wasn’t reassured. She pondered for a moment before saying, “Little Zhichuan has been living on Nine Abyss Peak. When she returns, have her stay temporarily on my Medicine Peak for a century.”

“Why can’t she come to my Sword Peak?” Zhong Zhanxi, who had left, returned. She crossed her arms and leaned against the door, eyeing Fang Zhiyi. Why hasn’t she left yet?

“What’s the difference?” Fang Zhiyi snapped irritably. They were both troublemaking Sword Cultivators who’d only cheer if they learned Yan Zhichuan refined Demon Pills. “She refined Demon Pills—you know that’s Demon Clan heritage, a demonic path specialty, incorporating Demon Creatures and demonic qi into medicine. If others find out, it’ll be a huge hassle.”

Zhong Zhanxi raised a brow. “Then don’t let others find out.”

Fang Zhiyi ignored them. She needed to study those Demon Pills before she could relax.

Three Ways River Ruins.

Miao Tianyin and the daoists probed the Underground Palace, found no demonic qi or Demon Clan remnants, and left—setting up a prohibition array before departing.

The sword duel event’s points ranking for each sect’s daoists existed, but since it hadn’t ended normally, there was no true “champion.” Still, points could be exchanged for cultivation resources. Once the matter was settled, the daoists returned one after another.

They’d come by their own efforts, but on the way back to the sect, Yan Zhichuan finally boarded a lightning-fast flying boat.

She gleefully tallied her gains, planning to buy all the new storybooks from the town’s bookshop as soon as she got back.

Unfortunately, because Zhan Yujie had “tattled,” Miao Tianyin had taken her Dan Jade before it cooled. Besides the Dan Jade, the weird lump in the cauldron had been confiscated too.

“Fu Shi, True Expert, Master Miao…” Yan Zhichuan trailed pitifully behind Miao Tianyin.

Miao Tianyin glanced at her, and the spinning die smacked Yan Zhichuan’s forehead again. “I’ll refine a defensive artifact for you,” Miao Tianyin said, pointing to the die. “Your luck is poor—you didn’t roll many discounts. Even after taking your stuff, you still owe me some Dan Jade by my calculations.”

“Then I won’t—” Before the word “want” escaped, the die gleamed coldly, its six faces suddenly sprouting blades that shot out icy light. The sensible Yan Zhichuan cut herself off and declared righteously, “I know, I absolutely won’t default on debts just because I’m Nine Abyss Sect’s sect-guarding treasure.”

Miao Tianyin: “…” She looked at Yan Zhichuan, amused and exasperated. This refinement wasn’t ordinary; her fundamental dao law emphasized “fair trade.” Anyone taking an artifact from her had to pay up.

Yan Zhichuan emerged listlessly from Miao Tianyin’s abode. Raising her eyes, she saw her senior sisters gathered at the boat’s bow.

Fuyu Sha owed countless debts herself and even traded Dan Jade for gold—she was probably broke too.

Zhan Yujie… She didn’t want to deal with her.

The other two senior sisters, she wasn’t close to—too awkward to ask for a loan.

“Why the sigh, Junior Sister?” Fuyu Sha eyed the sighing Yan Zhichuan, stroking her chittering Little Ferret with interest.

Youying glanced sympathetically at Yan Zhichuan. “I saw Master take Junior Sister’s Qiankun Pouch earlier.” When she’d joined Artifact Peak, Miao Tianyin had granted her an artifact—but it wasn’t free; she’d nearly gone bankrupt. Later, she learned Master’s dao law treated disciples and strangers the same when it came to payment.

Fuyu Sha laughed freely. “Don’t worry, Junior Sister. We cultivators scatter a fortune and it returns anew.”

Yan Zhichuan choked, her face clouding further.

Bie Lige said, “Can’t Junior Sister refine pills? Sell a few, and you’ll earn Dan Jade.” They who pursued the killing path only lost money with every punch. But Medicine Peak and Alchemy Peak folk raked in wealth effortlessly.

Yan Zhichuan grimaced. “But I don’t even have money to buy herbs now.”

Bie Lige shrugged. “Have them provide their own.”

Yan Zhichuan fell silent.

Zhan Yujie let out a soft scoff. “She wants to buy storybooks.”

Yan Zhichuan’s face lit up with joy at that. She shot Zhan Yujie a look of Senior Sister truly understands me.

Her grudge over the tattling vanished. After a moment’s hesitation, she ventured shyly, “Senior Sister, could you lend me some?”

Zhan Yujie looked away.

The loans Yan Zhichuan had taken in her name still weren’t repaid.

“Probably not.” Fuyu Sha answered for Zhan Yujie, her sympathetic gaze shifting from the penniless Yan Zhichuan to Zhan Yujie. “Junior Sister Zhan plans to send her money home.” Fuyu Sha didn’t think Zhan Yujie would keep the Chongxu Sect portion for herself.

Yan Zhichuan sighed in admiration. “Senior Sister is so filial.”

But her family lacked not cultivation resources, but a Sword Bone.

Zhan Yujie lowered her eyes to Yan Zhichuan.

Something about that felt loaded.

“The Zhao family never visits Nine Abyss Sect to check on Junior Sister, but they’re bold when asking for handouts,” Fuyu Sha said bluntly.

Yan Zhichuan stared at her in shock. Can you say that in front of Zhan Yujie? But Fuyu Sha’s expression suggested it wasn’t the first time.

Zhan Yujie said calmly, “Immortals and mortals are worlds apart.”

Fuyu Sha eyed Zhan Yujie. “Your mother was once a Sword Cultivator.”

Zhan Yujie’s mother, Zhao Pingchuan, had exceptional sword dao talent but was crippled and expelled for flaws in her temperament. Over the years, with the cultivation resources Zhan Yujie sent back, she couldn’t regain her past glory but far surpassed mortals.

Zhan Yujie’s expression grew even colder. “Zhao Yulu is frail and sickly—she can’t withstand the trials of the dao path.”

Fuyu Sha’s eyes narrowed, her tone laced with mocking amusement. “Junior Sister, you haven’t gone home in years either, have you?”

Youying and Bie Lige sensed the shift and quietly stepped back.

Yan Zhichuan blinked, glancing at Fuyu Sha—whose hands itched for a fight, fingers twitching toward her blade—then at the icy Zhan Yujie. She grinned. “So when are you going home, Senior Sister? Your home is my home, your mother is my mother—take me with you!”

Fuyu Sha released the hilt, her boiling battle intent evaporating in an instant.

Her eyes widened in shock, tinged with bewilderment.

Has it progressed this far? If word spreads, will Chongxu Sect make trouble and turn the tables?

Zhan Yujie’s face flushed faintly, her breathing suddenly rapid.

Any thought of sparring with Fuyu Sha vanished.

She seized Yan Zhichuan’s wrist and dragged her aside.

Fuyu Sha, Youying, and the others watched with keen interest.

Yan Zhichuan, gripped by Zhan Yujie, still wore a cheerful, carefree smile.

The Chongxu Sect matter hadn’t ruined Zhan Yujie—mission accomplished perfectly.

Next up: dealing with those “family” members? She’d defend Zhan Yujie’s Sword Bone to the death.

Zhan Yujie stared fixedly at Yan Zhichuan, her eyes glinting coldly.

Yan Zhichuan blinked innocently. “Senior Sister?”

Meeting those bright eyes, Zhan Yujie suddenly deflated.

“Could you read fewer storybooks? Or practice some silent meditation?”