Chapter 40:

Qiongju Island is one of the largest islands in the Eastern Sea, with higher terrain in the east and lower in the west. Though called a mountain, Luowu Mountain actually occupies half of the eastern region of Qiongju Island. Viewed from the west, the lower slopes of Luowu Mountain are lush and vibrant, adorned with pink cherry blossoms and peach blossoms, while its summit is perpetually snow-capped, towering into the clouds.

Beneath Luowu Mountain lies a vast, dense forest. From above, this forest is perpetually shrouded in thick mist, obscuring the terrain. However, this mist is not merely water vapor—it is laden with toxic miasma, some of which is deadly, while others induce hallucinations, making it extremely perilous. This forest is known as Qifeng Grove.

Ordinary cultivators dare not enter, and even the Demon King keeps its distance. Yet, within its depths dwell many strange demonic beasts and even divine creatures. Legend has it that someone once witnessed a phoenix soaring above the grove, though whether the sighting was genuine remains uncertain.

Xie Xuechen rode the wind, but as he neared Qifeng Grove, he sensed an unusual force disrupting both his flight path and spiritual energy. Being a master of the Dharma Aspect realm with keen intuition, he immediately descended into the forest.

“These miasmas interfere with spiritual energy fluctuations, bearing some resemblance to demonic energy,” Xie Xuechen said grimly. “We cannot fly here anymore.”

Mu Xuanling looked around, noticing that the flowers, plants, and trees in the grove were unusually large and vividly colored. The air carried a sweet, fragrant aroma, though its source was unclear. Looking up at the sky, she saw only thick mist, with the sun barely visible. Everything seemed veiled in a thin gauze, dulling the senses and limiting visibility to less than ten zhang.

Sensing the hidden dangers around her, Mu Xuanling instinctively held her breath, sighing in frustration. “Master Xie, why did you insist on bringing me along to find the Immortal Lotus? This place is no place for cultivators below the Dharma Form realm.”

Xie Xuechen replied gently, “Don’t worry, I’m here.”

“Exactly why I’m more worried,” Mu Xuanling rolled her eyes.

Xie Xuechen chuckled softly.

With a low chuckle, Xie Xuechen took Mu Xuanling’s hand and said, “Let’s go. We must leave this forest before nightfall.”

Mu Xuanling seemed to give up resisting, allowing him to lead her hand as they advanced toward Luowu Mountain.

From deep within the mist came eerie sounds—sometimes like the cries of wild beasts, sometimes like chewing, sometimes like heavy breathing. Because they could not see, the sounds only fueled more vivid imagination.

Mu Xuanling’s expression gradually grew serious. Just then, Xie Xuechen suddenly stopped. Mu Xuanling, a moment too slow to react, couldn’t halt her forward movement and was pulled into Xie Xuechen’s arms.

Before she could speak, footsteps echoed from ahead.

Although the miasma dulled Xie Xuechen’s senses, the moment he heard the footsteps, his expression darkened, and his grip on Mu Xuanling’s shoulders unconsciously tightened.

“Xie Xuechen…” A slender figure emerged from the mist, its voice making Mu Xuanling stiffen.

It was her own voice!

The very same voice, yet the tone was entirely different. This voice, brimming with emotion, called out Xie Xuechen’s name, unmistakably tinged with grievance and sorrow.

Mu Xuanling stiffened, watching the figure gradually come into view. She stepped out of the mist, her face and attire identical to Mu Xuanling’s.

Xie Xuechen was no stranger to creatures mimicking Mu Xuanling’s form—such as the Lust Demon. But he never judged by sight alone; he used his heart’s eye. He could distinguish each person’s heartbeat and breath, and see the aura surrounding them. No illusion could deceive him.

But this figure… not only looked identical, but even her footsteps, breathing, heartbeat, and aura matched Mu Xuanling’s perfectly!

“Xie Xuechen, come quickly! The one beside you is fake!” The figure cried anxiously, walking toward him.

Mu Xuanling clenched her fists, panic rising. “What exactly are you?”

“This question should be mine to ask!” The approaching Mu Xuanling glared coldly at the Mu Xuanling in Xie Xuechen’s arms. “The moment I entered the forest, I was pulled away by a strange force. It must have been you! You’re some forest spirit, imitating me to deceive Xie Xuechen!”

Mu Xuanling sneered. “Nice try, turning the tables like that.” She said, raising her right hand and summoning Duan Nian. “You mimic me well, but who’s real and who’s fake will be clear after a fight!”

The other figure also sneered, raising her right hand to reveal an identical Duan Nian. “Exactly, a fight will settle it! You demon!”

Mu Xuanling was stunned—how was this possible!

Duan Nian was personally forged by Sang Qi. There should be no other like it in the world!

Before she could figure out what was happening, the other Duan Nian slashed toward her face. Mu Xuanling was gently pushed behind Xie Xuechen, who raised his hand to block the fierce whip.

The other figure, brimming with fury and grievance, shouted, “Xie Xuechen, have you also been enchanted by her? I am the true Mu Xuanling!”

Xie Xuechen gazed deeply at the figure before him. Indeed, she looked exactly like Mu Xuanling, even her eyes. It reminded him of the day outside Xiaocheng, when he had attacked to save someone, and she had spared him despite her anger and grievances.

“You’re only doing this because you know I like you!”

It was perhaps from that moment that he began to truly acknowledge her feelings—though he couldn’t understand their origin, they were sincere.

“Xie Xuechen, you bully me…” Those beautiful peach-blossom eyes misted over, making him momentarily lose focus, his heart aching.

But from behind, a whip snapped, interrupting his thoughts.

The other Duan Nian struck mercilessly across his back. His robes tore, revealing the firm, broad muscles beneath. On skin as smooth as jade, a faint red mark remained.

Xie Xuechen turned slightly to look at Mu Xuanling. Her eyes were cold. Seeing that Duan Nian had failed to break Xie Xuechen’s defense, she frowned and immediately fled into the mist.

Xie Xuechen curled his lips into a bitter smile. Suddenly, his left hand moved, and a red thread shot from his sleeve, wrapping around Mu Xuanling’s wrist. She had run less than ten zhang when she felt her wrist tighten, a force pulling her back, preventing her from moving forward. Startled, she looked down at her right hand, then at Xie Xuechen’s left. Both wrists were wrapped in identical red threads, connected by a red line. After a few breaths, the red line connecting them vanished, but the red threads remained.

“I told you she was fake!” The figure cried angrily, approaching Xie Xuechen and softening her tone. “Xie Xuechen, are you alright?”

That heartfelt concern was identical to the real Mu Xuanling’s, yet the true Mu Xuanling should now be indifferent and cold toward him, discarding him like trash. Kindness and affection were merely his fantasy.

Fantasy was, after all, false.

Xie Xuechen’s expression darkened. Suddenly, his spiritual energy surged, the vermilion mark between his brows glowing. The “Mu Xuanling” before him screamed and immediately dissolved into a puff of white smoke.

With a thud, a green fruit fell to the ground, bursting open to reveal red flesh inside, emitting a sweet fragrance that made one’s mouth water.

“It’s a forest spirit—the fruit of the Capturing Spirit Flower. Its scent has potent hallucinogenic properties, capable of even deceiving a Dharma Form’s spiritual perception. What we witnessed earlier was merely our own illusions,” Xie Xuechen said solemnly.

To achieve its ends by confusing others’ spiritual awareness, such a spirit must not be very strong. Once exposed, it would face death. But if one could not see through the illusion, the deceived person would die within their own fantasy.

Xie Xuechen turned to look at Mu Xuanling, who stood far away, her expression dark as she stared at her wrist.

Xie Xuechen slowly approached her. Mu Xuanling raised her hand coldly. “Master Xie, what does this mean?”

“This is called the One Thread Binding. The two connected cannot be more than ten zhang apart,” Xie Xuechen explained.

“I know what the One Thread Binding is. I’m asking what you mean by this!” Mu Xuanling gritted her teeth.

“I was worried you might accidentally get separated from me,” Xie Xuechen paused, then added, “or intentionally.”

Mu Xuanling’s fair face flushed with anger and embarrassment. “Demons may be slain, but not humiliated! Are you treating me like a dog on a leash?”

“Of course not,” Xie Xuechen denied immediately, his expression serious. “Dogs are leashed around the neck.”

“You…” Mu Xuanling’s face turned even redder. Her bright, lively eyes burned with intense killing intent. She was filled with frustration—the One Thread Binding wasn’t deadly, but it was deeply humiliating. She couldn’t fight him, couldn’t escape, couldn’t even argue, because if she pushed too hard, he could seal her mouth and throat!

Mu Xuanling angrily stomped her foot, turned her back to Xie Xuechen, her eyes glistening with tears.

“Let’s go,” Xie Xuechen said, not intending to provoke her further. What he said was all sincere, but sincere words were often the most infuriating.

Mu Xuanling said nothing. Xie Xuechen sighed with a faint chuckle and turned to walk away. After a while, Mu Xuanling felt a tug on her wrist—Xie Xuechen was already ten zhang ahead. Helplessly, she followed.

“Don’t stray too far,” came Xie Xuechen’s voice from ahead.

She naturally ignored him. If she could stay ten zhang away, she wouldn’t move an inch closer.

Mu Xuanling’s gaze involuntarily drifted to the wound on Xie Xuechen’s shoulder blade. She had struck with all her might. Though it tore through his clothing, it left only a faint mark on his shoulder—a pale red lash about an inch wide and two fingers long. Against his snow-white skin, it resembled a plum blossom in winter—vivid and striking. Xie Xuechen paid no mind to the injury; a Dharma Aspect’s body possessed formidable regenerative abilities, and such a minor wound would soon heal on its own.

The mist in the forest gradually thickened. Visibility dropped from ten zhang to five. Worried about traps, they had to slow their pace. Xie Xuechen also shortened the One Thread Binding, pulling Mu Xuanling to five zhang behind him.

However, the miasma’s effects on the body were not to be underestimated. Halfway through, Mu Xuanling began to feel increasingly weak. At first, she thought it was fatigue, but as her limbs grew numb, she realized something was wrong.

Xie Xuechen constantly monitored the footsteps behind him. Because she was far away, he couldn’t clearly hear her heartbeat and breathing, but her footsteps were distinct. He had assumed she slowed down because she didn’t want to walk beside him. But when her footsteps faltered, he knew something was wrong.

As Mu Xuanling’s body weakened and she was about to fall, Xie Xuechen caught her arm.

“What’s wrong?” Xie Xuechen asked while grasping her pulse. He felt her pulse was weak and her breath was sluggish. Frowning, he said, “This miasma causes limb numbness and breath stagnation.”

“The miasma is too strong,” Mu Xuanling’s voice was weak. “I’ve held my breath for so long, but I still can’t stop it from invading.”

Xie Xuechen placed his hand on Mu Xuanling’s forehead, feeling her temperature slightly high, her brow damp with cold sweat. He had anticipated the miasma’s toxicity and had instructed Mu Xuanling to hold her breath. With her current cultivation, she could hold her breath for several hours, using her body’s pores to breathe instead.

“These miasmas enter through the pores. Holding your breath only slightly reduces intake but cannot completely block it,” Xie Xuechen said gravely. He took a crimson pill from his spatial pouch. “The miasma’s toxicity isn’t strong, so I wasn’t overly alert at first. But as it continuously seeped into the body and accumulated, it finally manifested now. This pill can counteract the miasma. Take it.”

“You didn’t give it to me earlier,” Mu Xuanling muttered, taking the pill from Xie Xuechen’s hand and swallowing it.

Xie Xuechen said, “It has side effects.”

Mu Xuanling: “…”

Xie Xuechen: “Don’t spit it out. The side effects aren’t severe—just temporary blindness.”

Mu Xuanling laughed bitterly. “You call that not severe? Going blind in this dangerous forest is practically asking for death!”

Xie Xuechen patted her shoulder. “I’m here.”

Mu Xuanling felt warmth rising in her abdomen, dispelling the numbness and weakness, gradually restoring her strength. But her vision blurred. This wasn’t complete darkness—it was just extremely hazy, with only vague light and shadow.

Seeing Mu Xuanling frowning, her eyes unfocused, Xie Xuechen knew she could no longer see clearly. He scooped her into his arms. Instinctively, she struggled slightly, her hand brushing against Xie Xuechen’s left shoulder wound, causing him to grunt in pain.

She immediately froze.

“Your wound seems worse,” Mu Xuanling’s nose caught the scent of blood, but it was not ordinary. It lacked the usual stench, instead carrying a faint fragrance.

“It’s the miasma. I’ll be fine once we leave here,” Xie Xuechen said. “Now, don’t move around. We can leave the forest sooner.”

Mu Xuanling felt awkward but dared not defy Xie Xuechen now. Helplessly, she let him carry her, unsure where to put her hands. Xie Xuechen glanced down at her sulking face and awkward posture, then murmured, “Just hold onto my robe.”

Hesitating briefly, she placed her hands on Xie Xuechen’s chest. Unable to see, her other senses heightened—her palms felt the strong beat of his heart, her nose caught the faint scent of snow pine, his arms steadily held her, and his steps were swift yet smooth. Only the damp forest breeze brushed her cheeks, carrying the scent of earth and flowers, making her feel strangely dizzy.

Suddenly, she asked, “Don’t you need to hold your breath? Won’t the miasma affect you?”

“A little, but my cultivation is enough to resist,” Xie Xuechen replied calmly. “If I hold my breath, it will dull my sensitivity to danger.”

Thus, he must remain constantly alert to all threats, protecting her was all that mattered.

Though Mu Xuanling disliked Xie Xuechen, she couldn’t deny that his strength brought reassurance. If he were an ally instead of an opponent, he would be an extremely reliable presence.

But there was no “if.”

Because of Mu Xuanling’s earlier slowdown, the forest was larger than expected. Along the way, they encountered many traps and illusions that delayed their progress. As the sun set and the light dimmed, Xie Xuechen had no choice but to abandon the idea of traveling at night. The mist and trees in this place already blocked the sky during the day, making it gloomy. At night, it was pitch black, with no stars or moonlight. Hidden dangers lurked in the darkness, and rushing recklessly would only increase the risk.

Before nightfall, Xie Xuechen found a dry cave, set Mu Xuanling down, and gathered some firewood to build a fire.

Mu Xuanling vaguely sensed the faint glow of firelight and turned toward it.

“Master Xie, is your shoulder wound worse?” She asked hesitantly. After half a day, the smell of blood had grown stronger.

Though Xie Xuechen couldn’t see his own wound, he could feel the pain and itching intensifying. Clearly, the miasma had a greater effect on flesh, accelerating decay and rot.

“Hey…” Mu Xuanling hesitated. “Should I help you apply medicine? We don’t know what dangers lie ahead in this forest. If something happens to you, I’ll be buried here too.”

This was a reasonable request, and Xie Xuechen couldn’t refuse.

Besides, he had no intention of being polite.

Xie Xuechen approached her, took her hand, and placed an open porcelain jar in her palm.

“Then I’ll trouble you,” he said.

Mu Xuanling’s vision darkened slightly—Xie Xuechen must be sitting in front of her, blocking some of the firelight. She hesitated, slowly reached out, touched Xie Xuechen’s back, and carefully felt her way upward, encountering the torn edge of his robe, then his firm, taut back muscles.

Unable to see, she leaned in slightly, lowering her head to sniff, trying to locate the wound by scent.

Amid the scent of snow pine was the smell of blood. Guided by instinct, she finally reached Xie Xuechen’s back, but upon hearing his breath deepen slightly, she stopped abruptly.

“My eyes are blind because of your medicine. If I apply the medicine too roughly, don’t blame me,” Mu Xuanling said.

Xie Xuechen seemed to chuckle. “You struck me hard with the whip. Did I blame you then?”

His deep voice carried a faint trace of tenderness.

Mu Xuanling’s face flushed slightly, feeling awkward and at a loss for words.

She had struck him several times, yet he had never said anything, making her feel petty for suspecting him.

She scooped out cool ointment from the jar and slowly applied it to the wound. The injury had originally been a shallow mark, but due to the miasma’s erosion, it now felt like torn flesh. Just applying the medicine made her feel pain. She felt Xie Xuechen’s tense body, knowing he must be enduring pain silently.

But Xie Xuechen’s tension wasn’t from pain—it was from her proximity.

A sweet fragrance drifted from behind, as if gentle arms were embracing him from behind. Her soft hands explored his back for the wound, her warm breath brushing against his bare skin as she lowered her head, sending a tingling sensation across his painful wound.

His heartbeat involuntarily quickened. He struggled to suppress a sudden impulse—wishing she would finish applying the medicine quickly, yet also wanting to tear the wound wider to let her fingers linger a moment longer.

Xie Xuechen inwardly smiled bitterly—indeed, he had been bewitched.