Chapter Twenty-One: The Enigmatic Poison Healer

The next morning, warm sunlight poured into the valley. The white mist of spiritual energy lingering in the sacred ground evaporated and vanished under the sun’s rays, revealing the figure in the pool with increasing clarity. She sat cross-legged on the marble, the breeze lifting a few playful strands of hair across her cheek, yet her expression remained serene—nothing like someone hovering at the brink of death. The bloodstained white robe had regained its pristine color, and from a distance, she looked every bit the ethereal being, untouched by the world.

Ji Xuanyu slowly opened his eyes, silver fox’s words echoing in his ears: Silver Yao is in no immediate danger, but the poison runs deep. You must find the Ghost Doctor and the Poison Enchantress quickly to save her. If it takes too long, my trace of spiritual power can only protect her heart for three days. Otherwise—

The silver fox had left something unsaid, but Ji Xuanyu was no fool; he understood the implication.

After adjusting his breathing, he glanced once at the peaceful figure in the pool, then resolutely rose and took to the air, heading after Gu Xinyu toward the sacred land.

Ahead stretched an endless desert. Gu Xinyu stood at the boundary between oasis and sand, gazing into the distance: Muye and Aishuo still hated being disturbed, it seemed! Was it necessary to conjure such a vast mirage?

He’d only ever heard of mirages taking the shape of grand buildings; today, it was an endless desert. They certainly had a refined sense of humor—last time it had been sheer cliffs, this time, a new illusion.

A gust of wind swept in from afar, carrying a strange fragrance. As it approached, the wind grew stronger, forming a miniature whirlwind that whipped up sand like a rampaging beast.

Gu Xinyu did not evade it. Instead, he drew from his robe a blade of grass shaped like bamboo, placed it in his mouth, and let the refreshing aroma fill him. He closed his eyes as the howling wind faded to silence.

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself standing on lush, rolling meadows. He couldn’t help but marvel: Aishuo’s illusionary incense grows ever more powerful; the reality of this illusion is astonishing—truly worthy of the Poison Enchantress!

He lightly tapped the ground, soaring over the grassland with his qinggong, careful not to touch down. It was, in truth, a marsh—step once and you’d never escape.

Ahead lay a forest; he moved swiftly through, and before him unfolded a lake where sky and water merged, sparkling peacefully—no hint of hidden peril. This, perhaps, was the only place along this journey where one needn’t fear sudden death by poison.

He pressed his lower lip with his right hand, sounding a crisp whistle. Soon, a giant turtle surfaced from the lake, and Gu Xinyu leapt nimbly onto its back.

On the mountainside, Muye and Aishuo were gathering herbs. Hearing the whistle, they exchanged a smile and continued sifting through dense grass in search of the plants they needed, untroubled.

The boundless green sea was dotted with scattered blossoms, splashes of color on a verdant world.

Aishuo spotted a sharp purple tip poking through the thick grass. Delighted, she parted the blades and found a plant of pure violet. Gently uprooting it, she revealed a small white flower at its root—an exceedingly rare, mature violet!

The world knew of this purple plant famed for curing all ills, but few realized its true power lay in the white flower at its root, which only appeared when mature: it could cure any poison, but misused, could halt a breath in an instant. The upper part was known as Amethyst, while the flower was called White Orchid.

“Muye!” Aishuo waved the violet in her hand, smiling.

Muye lifted his head from the grass at the sound, his face breaking into a broad grin. “A violet!”

Sunlight bathed their faces. She, in her pink gauze, looked like a woodland sprite, her smile so pure she seemed a different person from the woman known in the martial world. He, in pale blue, his robe lighter than the grass, smiled at her with a fondness that belied his reputation for coldness.

The pair of beautiful companions laughed together, radiant.

“Aishuo, quickly, put the violet in the Black Ice Box!” Muye rose and approached her.

Reminded, Aishuo hurriedly stored the plant—almost ruining it in her excitement. It was an object of pure yin and could not endure sunlight for long.

Laughing, she ran—her steps barely touching the ground. Aishuo took Muye’s hand, and in perfect harmony, they soared into the air, their shadows flickering as they alighted before a small wooden hut.

Around the hut grew rare and exotic flowers, each lush and inviting, but every bloom was deadly poisonous; a few breaths of their pollen would leave most people dizzy, convulsing, or dead.

By a small pond, the two crouched side by side, scooping water to rinse their faces. Then, with a ladle, they drank deeply, instantly refreshed.

“Muye! Aishuo!” Gu Xinyu’s voice called from the foot of the mountain, and in the next moment, he arrived before them, out of breath.

Aishuo continued to drink, while Muye sat with a full ladle before Gu Xinyu. “What’s happened? Why the rush? Did something happen to Xuanyu? Why isn’t he here?”

Aishuo looked up, equally concerned.

Taking the water and draining it in one gulp, Gu Xinyu wiped his mouth with his sleeve, steadied his breath, and spoke quickly:

“We must go! Silver Yao is gravely wounded and deeply poisoned. Come with me—there’s no time to lose!”

“Silver Yao? Who is that?” Aishuo’s gaze turned sharp; she never saved anyone lightly.

“Who is Silver Yao?” Muye echoed, puzzled.

“The Serpent Woman—her name is Silver Yao! She was badly injured and poisoned with a deadly toxin!”

Gu Xinyu reached to pull them along. “We can talk on the way—there’s no time!”

“No!”

Aishuo and Muye, in silent accord, shook off his hand. Their tones wavered; they’d heard of the Serpent Woman in recent years—a good person by all accounts. But she was a stranger, and they owed her nothing.

They recognized only Ji Xuanyu and Gu Xinyu as friends. For others, they would not intervene.

“It doesn’t matter whether you will or not!” Ji Xuanyu’s slightly hoarse voice rang out.

The three turned to see Ji Xuanyu, disheveled and travel-stained, hair in wild disarray—evidence of his haste.

Gu Xinyu was puzzled: Shouldn’t Xuanyu be tending to Silver Yao? Why was he here too? Unless...

“Why?” They needed a reason to save a life.

“Silver Yao is the woman I love. Is that reason enough?” With those words, Ji Xuanyu collapsed from exhaustion.

Fortunately, Muye caught him in time, pinched his philtrum, fed him a pill, and laid him on the bed in the wooden hut, helping him regulate his breathing.

After a while, Ji Xuanyu woke to find the three watching him anxiously. Muye had changed into black, and Aishuo wore red.

He smiled, recognizing the significance—these colors were only worn when the two showed themselves in the martial world. Struggling to sit up, he was supported on either side by Aishuo and Muye.

“Xuanyu, you’ve suffered internal injuries—what happened?” Muye asked with concern.

“It’s nothing, a minor matter. I’ll be fine. Let’s save her first. Silver Yao has only two days left!” Ji Xuanyu said, already heading out, deeply worried.

“Xuanyu, it’s only because you love her that I’ll help. But you mustn’t risk your life like this again!” Aishuo glanced at him, resolved to see this Silver Yao for herself.

“Xinyu, go ahead. Muye and I will follow with Xuanyu.” The others nodded in agreement.

The four rose into the air, speeding away together.