Mu Dezhong was dazed by the overwhelming surprise, momentarily unable to process it.
“A month ago?”
His mind rewound rapidly through their journey from Feiyun City. They had encountered many people along the way—who could the River God be referring to?
Mu Zhao also helped jog his memory: “A month ago, we should have been in Qingshi Town. That place was quite desolate. If there was anything unusual, it would probably be…”
Mu Dezhong and Mu Zhao exchanged glances, their minds simultaneously flashing to a tall, slender figure.
“That demonic cultivator?”
“Demonic cultivator?” Yuan Ji sounded skeptical. “What exactly happened back then?”
Mu Zhao looked blank. “We were resting at a teahouse, and the waiter served us a local specialty tea. That demonic cultivator happened to stop by as well and sat near us. Oh, right—he had a little white marten with him. Quite lively.”
“While we were drinking, none of us noticed a venomous snake slithering under the table. It was the demonic cultivator who warned us to be careful.”
At the memory, Mu Zhao still felt a chill run down his spine. The snake had been unlike any he’d seen before—its body crimson with black bands. A single bite from it would have been fatal, even with Mu Dezhong’s formidable healing abilities.
Clutching his chest, Mu Zhao added, voice shaky, “Before leaving, the demonic cultivator said, ‘We’re even now.'”
“That’s all. Nothing else stands out.” Mu Zhao racked his brain but could recall no further details. The incident was too far in the past.
Yuan Ji fell silent, her fingers unconsciously tracing vague patterns on the stone table.
A single sentence had averted a deadly calamity—was it really that effortless?
She said nothing more. Meeting their eager, hopeful gazes, she finally spoke. “I’ll prepare some things. Come find me at noon.”
“Thank you, River God!” Mu Dezhong’s voice trembled with emotion.
After waiting all these years, hope was finally within reach. Yet, unease still gnawed at him. He ventured cautiously, “If there’s anything you need, we’d be happy to assist in the preparations.”
Yuan Ji waved him off. Awakening Mu Zhao’s companion plant wasn’t particularly complicated—it merely required channeling spiritual energy to break the seal.
But the seal was still embedded in his body, and the process would inevitably cause some backlash.
Looking at Mu Zhao’s frail, pitiable state and Mu Dezhong’s haggard expression—his every thought devoted to the boy—Yuan Ji could easily imagine the chaos if anything went wrong during the procedure.
She sighed and dismissed them to rest.
Once Mu Zhao and the others had retreated to the backyard, Yuan Ji leaped to the banks of the Forgotten River.
The night was deep, the air heavy with dew. The river was far colder at night than during the day. Yuan Ji exhaled, her breath crystallizing into frost before drifting onto the water’s surface.
A flicker of flame at her fingertips dispelled the surrounding chill. In the dim glow, she pinched a spirit stone between her fingers.
Closing her eyes, she extended her divine sense into the stone, threading through its intricate internal patterns.
Her consciousness stirred, and the spiritual energy within the stone began circulating—once, twice, thrice…
Suddenly, the stone erupted in a blinding flash. Yuan Ji’s eyes snapped open as she hurled it away.
BOOM!
A deafening explosion echoed as an entire mountaintop collapsed in a cloud of dust and debris, sending flocks of birds scattering into the sky.
A-Tong gasped. “Yuan Ji… is this your new idea for a hidden weapon?”
“…”
Yuan Ji silently retracted her hand, her face wooden, lips pressed into a thin line. “I was practicing how to break a ‘seal.'”
She had been testing whether she could release the spiritual energy within the stone without destroying it.
She had failed. The stone had exploded.
A-Tong exhaled in relief.
Good, good—it was just a failure. For a moment, it had thought its chosen host had deliberately decided to blow up mountains.
Seeing Yuan Ji’s dejected expression, A-Tong reluctantly but resolutely scooped up a handful of spirit stones from the pile beside the lighthouse and pressed them into her palm, offering gentle encouragement.
“Then keep practicing. Don’t get discouraged—we have plenty of spirit stones. Rest if you’re tired.”
“Mm.”
Soon after, the people inside the River God Temple felt the ground tremble violently. They watched in stunned silence as distant mountains vanished one after another, birds fleeing their nests in panic.
After a long while, when the earth-shaking commotion finally subsided, someone hesitantly spoke up.
“That… was the River God, right?”
After a thoughtful pause, the crowd nodded in unison.
“Does the River God… not like mountains?”
They pursed their lips. The River God must have had her reasons.
Equally silent were the two figures watching from the clouds above.
Qu Yunqing whistled at the flattened mountain range. “As expected of someone who caught your eye, My Lord. Such terrifying strength—even I would need some effort to level a single mountain.”
To obliterate an entire range in one go? That took real power.
The man addressed as “My Lord,” Qi Yan, shot him a sidelong glance. His icy gaze immediately silenced Qu Yunqing, who mimed zipping his lips.
Once Qi Yan turned away, Qu Yunqing immediately scratched the white marten perched on his shoulder and stuck out his tongue at Qi Yan’s back.
“How is Bai Ying progressing?” Qi Yan retrieved a tracking insect from his black sleeve embroidered with cloud patterns. “Give this to her when she returns.”
“Understood! Yunqing will thank you on Bai Ying’s behalf.” Qu Yunqing added, “Don’t worry, My Lord. Bai Ying’s mission is going smoothly—she’ll return within half a month.”
Then, unable to resist, he craned his neck for another look below. Though he maintained an air of nonchalance, a trace of concern flickered in his eyes.
Qi Yan observed Yuan Ji below, noting Qu Yunqing’s expression. “If you’re worried, go take a look.”
“You’re allowing it, My Lord?” Qu Yunqing brightened instantly before feigning indifference again. “Ah, well, his father once helped me. Even though the debt’s been repaid, I still feel a little responsible.”
“If you’re permitting it, I’ll go now!” His voice lifted with barely restrained excitement. “But won’t you come too, My Lord? No one would recognize you.”
Always watching from afar—how perplexing.
Qi Yan gave him a faint, knowing smile. A chill ran down Qu Yunqing’s spine, and he hastily added, “Then I’ll be off, My Lord!”
Soon after, Qu Yunqing arrived outside the River God Temple. The eerie leaves set off alarm bells in his mind.
“This place is strange. Xiao Hong, let’s sneak in quietly.” He patted the white marten and promptly shapeshifted.
When Yuan Ji returned to the temple, she found a large purple marten and a small white one diligently digging a tunnel, attempting to bypass the carnivorous plants.
Yuan Ji: “…?”
Hearing footsteps behind him, Qu Yunqing turned—only for a surge of spiritual energy to lock his cultivation. His body went limp, collapsing to the ground.
Qu Yunqing, now being lifted by the scruff: !!!
“The River God has returned!” Xuan Chengren emerged, his sharp eyes glinting as they landed on the marten in Yuan Ji’s grasp.
He smiled leisurely. “I sensed something lurking outside earlier. Turns out it’s a plump little thing.”
Yuan Ji nodded. “Quite heavy.”
Qu Yunqing, who had planned to use this chance to sneak in, suddenly felt a wave of foreboding.
A glint of amusement flashed in Yuan Ji’s eyes. “Plenty of meat.”
Qu Yunqing: ??
This is called muscle!
He screeched indignantly—only for a familiar voice to cut in. “Oh, the River God’s back! Wow, that’s one fat marten!”
Yan Ku, fresh from battle and still stabilizing his energy, had been chopping firewood in the courtyard with his cleaver.
Spotting Yuan Ji, he immediately volunteered.
But when he saw the marten’s beady eyes filled with familiar disdain, he froze.
“Wait… this looks familiar.” Suspicion crept in, though he brushed it aside. “This marten’s impressive—so well-fed it’s practically gleaming. Ah—!”
Even dangling midair, an enraged Qu Yunqing managed to lash out, tiny black eyes blazing.
“Yan Ku, you dare scheme against your own grandfather?!”
After being scratched, Yan Ku finally recognized the marten and gasped. “Y-You—!”
This was Qu Yunqing, one of the Demon Lord’s subordinates! What was he doing here like this?!
Yuan Ji didn’t miss their reactions. She tossed the marten to Yan Ku. “Keep an eye on him. Don’t let him escape.”
“Understood.” Yan Ku held the marten gingerly, terrified of provoking the ancestor into exposing his own identity.
He forced a laugh. “River God, this marten’s still a bit scrawny. Maybe… fatten him up first?”
Yuan Ji gave them a meaningful look that sent shivers down their spines.
After a long pause, she finally said, “Fine.”
The two exhaled in relief as she headed to the backyard to rest.
Time passed swiftly, and soon the sun hung high overhead.
Noon arrived. A crowd gathered outside Yuan Ji’s door, standing stiffly with barely contained anxiety.
“Brother Yan, what happened to you?” Ye Wenshu gaped at Yan Ku’s face, now adorned with three bloody scratches, a large and small marten perched on his head. “Since when did you start keeping pets?”
Yan Ku’s mouth twitched, the motion tugging at his wounds. “It’s a long story.”
The door creaked open.
Yuan Ji’s voice came from within.
“Come in.”
