Mi Xingzhe lay on the bed, his meridians pulsing as if something were surging violently inside him. Veins stood out along his neck, throbbing beneath pallid skin. Each breath looked like a struggle. Three bands of golden light pressed across his chest, binding him in place.
Li Luoning had temporarily sealed his meridians with those three strands—shielding his heart meridians while carefully guiding his inner energy.
"Master, what's happening to Xingzhe?" Yun Qingyi asked, anxiety tightening his expression.
"I've secured Nezha's heart meridians," Li Luoning said, voice grave. "Fortunately, the poison isn't severe enough to take his life. But judging by his meridian condition, it isn't only poison. There's a force inside his elixir field trying to break free."
His gaze remained on Mi Xingzhe's face as he continued, slow and precise.
"With his shallow cultivation, he can't control it. The toxin happened to stimulate that force. And… Xingzhe may have deliberately suppressed it and repelled it, which injured his internal energy."
"Master—did you say Xingzhe was poisoned?" Yun Qingyi asked sharply.
"Yes." Li Luoning's tone stayed calm. "But he's not in mortal danger. Over the next few days, I'll transfer inner energy to him. With time, he will recover."
Li Luoning's eyes lowered to Mi Xingzhe again, and he sighed.
"That isn't my main concern."
Yun Qingyi's heart sank. "Then what is it?"
Li Luoning's expression darkened. "Who could poison him inside Mirror Cloud Residence?"
Yun Qingyi froze, then frowned as a memory surfaced. "Now that you mention it… someone did come today while I was brewing medicine."
"Who?"
"O Shinan," Yun Qingyi answered quickly. "He said he brought a congratulatory gift from the Medicine King—to celebrate your accepting a closed-door disciple. He asked me for Blue Snow Flower seeds, saying it was on my behalf of the Medicine King. And he also brought a gift for Xingzhe. He said it would help him relax and sleep better."
Li Luoning's eyes narrowed slightly as he considered it.
"In that case… O Shinan's visit may have been coincidental," he said slowly. "But I fear someone with ill intentions is lurking within the Liao Yin Immortal Realm."
"Master… you mean someone harmed Xingzhe on purpose to create misunderstanding?" Yun Qingyi grasped the implication at once.
Li Luoning exhaled. "If that is true, then the Liao Yin Immortal Realm may already have a schemer among us."
At the edge of a cliff, an austere-robed figure approached from behind and cast a glance at O Shinan.
"Is it done?" the man asked.
"I've never failed to fulfill your requests," O Shinan replied with a smile, confidence threading his voice.
The man did not answer. His fingers tightened against his chest.
Now that it was done, O Shinan's gaze sharpened slightly. "Are you sure that thing will work on Xingzhe's elixir field?"
"I know the power of Red Dust Into Silence," the man replied, voice cold and subdued. "Even if he's only a novice immortal, Li Luoning won't be able to endure its force."
"And what's your next move?" O Shinan asked softly, studying the man's demeanor.
The man turned slowly. In his hand was a delicately carved golden incense burner.
Back inside Mirror Cloud Residence, Li Luoning sat beside the bed. One hand hovered over Mi Xingzhe's forehead, releasing a steady stream of golden mist into his body.
As he transferred cultivation, fragments stirred—memories buried deep inside Mi Xingzhe, exposed by the flow of inner energy.
"A cleaner like you managed to spill a bucket?" a drunken middle-aged woman slurred, her head lolling against the table. "How did I end up with such a useless son?"
With the words, she flung a wine jug.
The slender young Mi Xingzhe staggered as it struck him. He scrambled back to his feet at once, dropped to his knees, and continued wiping the floor with a rag.
"He's not my son," a woman on a bed muttered, her speech thick and unfocused, as if she'd only just given birth. She waved dismissively toward her mother-in-law. "I wouldn't give birth to such a spiritless waste."
The mother-in-law understood immediately. She took the newborn, passed him to a waiting servant, and slipped a packet of silver into his hand.
"The chaotic burial mound west of the city," she whispered. "Don't let anyone find out."
Then she shut the door quietly. Not long after, another voice sounded from inside.
"Master… the young master has passed away."
The scene shifted.
Young Mi Xingzhe ran, stumbling, while two older boys hurled stones after him. He tried to flee, frantic and desperate, but they chased him without mercy.
Without noticing, the chase drove him to the lakeside.
One of the boys approached slowly, reaching for something.
Mi Xingzhe refused.
The boy's expression hardened. He produced a long needle from somewhere and jabbed it viciously into Mi Xingzhe's finger.
In an instant, searing heat surged through him—yet the boy didn't stop.
Mi Xingzhe's cries rang out—
Li Luoning jolted back, his hand pausing as the flow of energy broke.
Even in scattered fragments, the misery of Mi Xingzhe's childhood was unmistakable. Li Luoning's jaw tightened.
How did he live before this?
With Li Luoning's cultivation supporting him, Mi Xingzhe's breathing gradually steadied. After a long moment, his lashes fluttered. He opened his eyes and stared at Li Luoning, surprise flickering across his face. Slowly, he tried to sit up.
"Nezha," Li Luoning said at once, gently pressing him back. "You're still weak."
Mi Xingzhe lowered his gaze. "Master… I've caused you trouble again."
Li Luoning paused, caught off guard by that being the first thing Mi Xingzhe said.
"Nezha," he said instead, softening, "how do you feel?"
Mi Xingzhe only shook his head slightly. He didn't speak. His mind was still tangled in the gossip he'd overheard earlier—those careless words that hit the softest, most insecure places in him.
Li Luoning watched him, brows drawing together.
"Nezha," he said quietly, "if you have something to say, you can tell me."
Mi Xingzhe shook his head again, eyes lowered, avoiding Li Luoning's gaze.
Li Luoning didn't press. He only patted Mi Xingzhe's shoulder lightly as he stood.
"Don't get out of bed. I'll have Qingyi bring the medicine."
Not long after, Yun Qingyi entered with a bowl.
"Nezha, drink it while it's warm," Yun Qingyi coaxed, blowing on the surface with practiced patience.
Mi Xingzhe frowned and took a sip, bracing for bitterness.
It wasn't as bitter as he expected.
His eyes lifted in confusion toward Yun Qingyi.
Li Luoning sat down nearby, pouring tea as he spoke evenly. "The poison can be neutralized, but it still caused damage. Right now, three of your senses are impaired. It will take time to recover."
He glanced at Mi Xingzhe. "For a period, your sense of smell, taste, and touch may not be clear."
"Master," Yun Qingyi asked quickly, "can't you completely detoxify Nezha?"
"I still don't know why that mysterious force is colliding with his elixir field," Li Luoning replied calmly. "If I administer an intense antidote too quickly, it may harm his elixir. The medicine I prepared is gentle. Within a few dozen days, he should heal."
Mi Xingzhe heard the meaning beneath Li Luoning's words—and the way Li Luoning's gaze lingered.
He let out a small, sharp sound that barely counted as a laugh. "You've really gone through a lot of trouble."
Li Luoning didn't react.
Instead, he set down his teacup and turned to Yun Qingyi. "Qingyi—was there anything unusual in the apothecary that day?"
Yun Qingyi thought carefully, then answered honestly. "As I told you—only O Shinan came. Nothing else seemed out of the ordinary."
"O Shinan…" Li Luoning repeated, the name sitting heavier each time it was spoken.
Yun Qingyi hesitated, then added, "But when I went to fetch the flower seeds… I saw him coming out of the apothecary."
A faint shock entered his voice. "Master… could it be he poisoned Nezha?"
Li Luoning's eyes narrowed, but he didn't answer immediately.
"On the surface, O Shinan does seem suspicious," he said at last. "But if he truly intended to harm Nezha, this would be too obvious. With his intelligence, he wouldn't choose such crude methods. And he and Nezha have never even met—there is no grievance between them. There is no motive."
He paused, then spoke decisively.
"For now, we set this aside. Neither of you is to mention it to anyone."
"Yes, Master," Yun Qingyi answered.
Li Luoning looked down, murmuring almost to himself, "O Shinan…"
Wuming Demon Mountain, inside a dark chamber…
Li Minghan came again to visit Shentu Zhajia, a delicate food box in his hand.
"Elder Brother," Li Minghan said with a knowing warmth, opening the box slowly. "Have you been feeling better lately?"
Shentu Zhajia remained with his back turned, offering no response.
"I remember you used to love the camellia cakes from the mountain's foot—made from flowers of Fanli Valley." Li Minghan took the items out one by one, arranging them as if this were a casual visit. "Coincidentally, I recently obtained new tea from Mozhi Mountain."
He set the tea aside, then produced clothing.
"You've been secluded here so long—you must be in need of new garments." His voice stayed gentle, almost considerate. "This stone-ne robe with grass-white floral patterns… it suits your noble bearing."
"Noble bearing?" Shentu Zhajia finally spoke, letting out a cold laugh. "Did you come today to mock me, Brother?"
"What are you saying?" Li Minghan's tone turned soft, almost indulgent. "Even if our younger brother manages the affairs of Fanli Valley in your stead now, one day it will all return to you."
He stepped closer, his expression darkening beneath the mask.
"Or perhaps I should say—if you want it, one day the entire world can be yours."
"Li Minghan!" Shentu Zhajia snapped, shaking off the sleeve Li Minghan had lightly tugged. "Put away your hypocritical face. I won't fall for your tricks. And I don't desire to be some ruler of the world."
A flicker of displeasure crossed Li Minghan's eyes before it vanished. A faint smile returned under the mask, and he followed Shentu Zhajia with unhurried steps.
"Elder Brother," he said, voice sharpening into a sneer, "why deceive yourself? Are you content to rot in this dark Wuming Demon Mountain—guarding the demon realm and Fanli Valley, living in obscurity?"
His tone grew colder.
"Even if you don't admit it, have you ever asked whether the demon clan of Wuming Demon Mountain, and the people of Fanli Valley, truly want to live this 'inferior' life with you?"
"What business is it of yours to meddle in Wuming Demon Mountain's affairs?" Shentu Zhajia countered.
Li Minghan chuckled softly. His eyes carried a sinister charm, and the smile he offered seemed both mocking and affectionate.
"Don't forget," he murmured, "everyone believes I am the Demon Lord. Since ancient times, immortals and demons have been enemies. Rebellion is in demon blood."
He leaned in slightly, voice light—dangerously light.
"If I wanted to stir their rebellious spirit… it would be effortless."
Shentu Zhajia's expression tightened. He knew Li Minghan too well. "What have you done?"
Li Minghan did not answer.
He only took a slow sip of tea—then turned and walked out. Before the door shut, he left behind a smile that invited dread more than curiosity.
The heavy door closed.
Outside, Hua Qiuyuan had been waiting.
The moment Li Minghan emerged, Hua Qiuyuan stepped forward and spoke in a low voice. "My Lord—the task you assigned earlier has been completed, as instructed."
"Very good," Li Minghan replied. "Send someone to inform him. Meet at the usual place."