In the world of immortal cultivation, prodigies are countless, yet many meet untimely ends. The sect leader and four or five elders spent a full hour examining the gravely injured Mu Zhanting. They reluctantly concluded that a disciple in the Qi Condensation stage, struck by a Foundation Establishment-level poisoned needle, would have the poison enter their sea of qi. While not fatal, without the intervention of a Nascent Soul cultivator to remove the toxins, the victim would never achieve Foundation Establishment.
Not only in Yangyue Sect but in the entire Mortal State, Nascent Soul cultivators were rare. This verdict essentially declared Mu Zhanting’s cultivation career over.
“Ah Yan, isn’t this what they call ‘the doorway grows cold and visitors become scarce when the eldest daughter marries a merchant’?” Mu Zhanting quipped.
“That’s quite fitting,” Nan Yan replied, her face propped up by her hand, looking even more distressed than a merchant’s wife. She kept muttering, “You shouldn’t have—”
“Stop,” Mu Zhanting interrupted, flipping over on his bed like a pancake. “You’ve said it twenty times already. I’ll say it once more: I never regret the fights I pick.”
His personality mirrored that of a wandering knight—reckless when he could win, quick to retreat when outmatched, carefree to a fault.
Nan Yan persisted, “What if they take advantage of your misfortune? I don’t know how many people you’ve offended in the inner sect—”
“Everyone except the sect leader’s daughter,” Mu Zhanting replied nonchalantly.
Nan Yan was speechless. “You’re something else,” she thought.
Soon after, someone knocked on Mu Zhanting’s door. It was an inner sect disciple, smiling politely but delivering a cold message: “I hate to disturb your recovery, but your quarters are next to the sect leader’s daughter’s chambers. Yesterday, the sect leader’s wife mentioned that Miss Xue is of marriageable age. For the sake of her reputation, we kindly ask you to recuperate elsewhere.”
Before his injury, no one had ever suggested that living nearby affected the sect leader’s daughter’s reputation.
Nan Yan muttered, “It seems you’ve offended even the sect leader’s daughter.”
When Mu Zhanting, bedding in tow, went with Nan Yan to knock on Qi Yang’s door, Qi Yang had just emerged from a brief period of seclusion, looking slightly weary.
“Can you save him?” Nan Yan asked.
Qi Yang retorted, “Do you think I’m omnipotent?”
Nan Yan and Mu Zhanting nodded in unison.
Qi Yang sighed. “Come in,” he said.
While Qi Yang checked Mu Zhanting’s pulse, Nan Yan diligently cleaned up the wood shavings scattered across the floor, then sat obediently to the side.
“The poison has entered your sea of qi. The sect leader must have told you that with this poison, you have no hope of reaching the Foundation Establishment,” Qi Yang explained. Then, his tone shifted. “However, since the weapon was partially blocked before entering your body, all hope isn’t lost. The Mortal State may be poor in resources but don’t take the sect leader’s words as absolute. To my knowledge, if you can find the venom of a third-rank Wuti Snake within three months, there’s a 30% chance of using poison to counteract poison.”
“What about the other 70%?” Mu Zhanting asked.
“If the worst happens, we can find you a nice burial spot,” Qi Yang replied dryly.
Mu Zhanting remained unperturbed. “Thirty percent is enough. How did you become so knowledgeable?”
Qi Yang responded flatly, “If you put down your idiom dictionary and poetry books and read more about Shenzhou geography, you’d be just as well-informed.”
A third-rank Wuti Snake was equivalent to a cultivator who had just reached Foundation Establishment. Given that demonic beasts were naturally stronger, even human cultivators of the same level could easily overpower Mu Zhanting.
Acknowledging the difficulty, Qi Yang suggested, “For now, we could try our luck at the Huigu hunting grounds. If fortune favors us, we might be able to purchase some snake venom with spirit stones.”
Suddenly remembering Fu Lang’s apparent descent into demonic possession, Nan Yan worried they might further harm Mu Zhanting. She proposed, “I’m thinking of leaving the sect. Want to join me?”
Qi Condensation stage outer disciples could leave the sect by paying a fee in spirit stones. Although Mu Zhanting wasn’t an outer disciple, given the sect’s current attitude towards him, they likely wouldn’t object to his departure.
Being an unaffiliated cultivator was an option, free from internal sect conflicts.
Mu Zhanting seemed tempted but shook his head. “Yangyue Sect hasn’t wronged me. Leaving like this wouldn’t be right. But you have a point—I’m tired of seeing those troublemakers. If this Huigu trip allows me to repay the sect, I’ll leave.”
Nan Yan immediately praised his sense of honor, inflating Mu Zhanting’s ego.
“Nan Yan, come out. We need to talk,” Qi Yang suddenly said after listening for a while.
Nan Yan tensed, her childlike intuition sensing Qi Yang’s displeasure beneath his calm tone. Following him to the courtyard, she asked softly, “Shao Cang, what’s wrong?”
“When you leave, do you plan to become an unaffiliated cultivator or return to mortal life?”
Nan Yan couldn’t bring herself to answer directly. Head lowered, she whispered, “I miss my mother.”
It was understandable. Her initial goal in coming to the sect was to find medicine for her mother, but things hadn’t gone as planned.
“I’m about to dissipate. I’d rather use your life to protect my daughter’s,” Qi Yang recalled Nan Yan’s mother’s words. He believed she wasn’t lying; otherwise, she wouldn’t have used something as power-consuming as the Shared Fate Lock to bind him to protect Nan Yan.
But Nan Yan would likely be heartbroken to learn this.
Qi Yang lowered his gaze, softening his tone. “If you’ve made up your mind, I won’t force you to stay. Is Huigu close to where your mother settled?”
Nan Yan looked up. “Yes, it is. My mother returned to our old house in Kong State. We could make it back for the Mid-Autumn Festival.”
Qi Yang paused before saying, “I’ll accompany you… to give your mother an explanation, at least.”
Nan Yan, who had been holding back her feelings, felt a wave of relief. She shook Qi Yang’s hand, saying, “I plan to stay with my mother in Kong State. If your cultivation succeeds and you pass by Kong State in the future, come visit me!”
“So you’ve always wanted to return home,” Qi Yang said, patting her head gently. “It’s a pity. I had hoped you’d stay by my side.”
Moonlight spilled across the scene, casting shadows through the bamboo. The young man maintained his usual reserved demeanor, but his words carried deeper meaning.
“Stop right there!” Nan Yan exclaimed.
“Hmm?”
Nan Yan backed away, saying, “If I stay near you too long, I’ll lose my sense of propriety! Seriously!”
With that, she vanished.
Qi Yang stood still for a long time, silently mouthing her name. His expression held a touch of sorrow.
On the first day of the eighth lunar month, Yangyue Sect sent three Foundation Establishment elders to lead a group to the Huigu region. Among them were over a dozen inner disciples and more than sixty outer disciples, including Mu Zhanting. Although some mocked him during the journey, none dared to act against him.
After all, even if he couldn’t reach the Foundation Establishment, he was still a late-stage Qi Condensation cultivator with an innate spirit root. Few could match him, except for the inner disciples.