Baiyou Grass was a rare spiritual herb, used to refine the Baiyou Pill.
According to legend, the Baiyou Pill could neutralize a hundred poisons. A miraculous remedy, it could heal even mortal wounds and save lives.
Now that Senior Sister Ye was trapped in the Erosion Wind Cavern, this was the only thing he could do for her. If he could find the herb and prepare the pill, he would surprise her with it once she escaped.
He also wanted to prove something to Song Wanníng. Even without her Heavenly Origin Heart-Nurturing Pill, Senior Sister Ye could recover.
"No, no, you heard wrong! There's no such thing as Baiyou Grass!" The man at the neighboring table hurriedly waved his hands, his face tense with denial. But his obvious attempt to hide the truth only confirmed An Ze's suspicion.
Excitement flashed across his face as he left the inn without hesitation, heading toward the mountains mentioned in the overheard conversation.
He never noticed the quick glance exchanged between the men at that table, nor the smirks curling at the corners of their mouths.
What a gullible fool.
…
It took ten days of hard travel before An Ze reached the mountains. By then, he was gasping for breath, but his eyes still sparkled with energy and purpose.
The mountain ahead was known as Ghost Mountain. It was said that millions of years ago, this was a battlefield, a mass grave where corpses lay rotting and resentment lingered in the air.
Later, ghost cultivators took up residence, disturbing the peace. Only about ten thousand years ago did the mountain finally quiet down.
Now, there were no ghosts left in Ghost Mountain. But there were still treasures. An Ze swallowed a Spirit Replenishing Pill and stared up at the looming peak. Gritting his teeth, he marched straight in.
"Baiyou Grass… Baiyou Grass…"
He followed a winding path, searching through the underbrush, calling the name of the herb as if it might answer back.
A stick of incense's time later, Song Wanníng arrived at the foot of the mountain. Her expression was cold, unreadable.
She looked up at the dark ridges and her fingers trembled slightly. Memories from her past life surfaced, harsh and bitter.
She had wanted to deal with An Ze for a long time.
Now that her martial uncle had ascended, there was nothing holding her back. She no longer needed to show mercy.
…
Deep in the heart of the mountain, An Ze's brow furrowed with growing unease. He muttered under his breath.
"Did those two really mean this place? I've been searching forever and haven't seen a thing…"
"Did I take a wrong turn?"
The directions they gave had been so specific. He'd followed every step carefully…
Just as doubt flickered in his mind, a strange sound rang out nearby.
"Who's there?!"
Startled, An Ze turned his head, but before he could react, something slammed into him and sent him flying.
In a panic, he summoned his magic weapon, but before he could wield it, the creature struck again, knocking the weapon from his hands.
"Aaaah—!"
He screamed as his body smashed into a massive boulder. Blood burst from his mouth, and he felt a shuddering pain ripple through his organs.
Terrified, he looked back.
A Wumeng Beast.
Its grotesque features were completely mismatched, its face twisted, and three thick, filth-covered horns jutted from its head.
Then he saw the ring of fur around its neck. His pupils shrank.
It was a fifth-rank beast.
Equivalent to a Golden Core cultivator.
Without thinking, An Ze turned and ran.
"Why was there a high-tier beast here? Why hadn't those two mentioned this?!
Damn it!"
He cursed them under his breath as he ran, his heart pounding with fear. But the Wumeng Beast had gone hungry for far too long. There was no way it would let prey escape.
It wasn't long before An Ze was on the verge of death.
His screams echoed through the forest as the beast's massive claws pounded him again and again, tearing through flesh, shattering bones. Blood sprayed with each blow. His body was a mangled mess of pulp and fragments.
"No—!"
An Ze screamed in despair.
The beast raised one last claw. If it came down, he would die instantly.
He couldn't die here!
He still had revenge to take, debts to repay.
He absolutely could not die like this.
Just as death loomed, a figure descended from the sky. The moment she landed, her sheer presence pinned the beast in place.
The claw stopped midair.
An Ze gasped in relief, collapsing to the ground, shivering.
"Th-thank you… savi—"
Before he could finish, the figure turned.
It was Song Wanníng.
He froze in place.
"Mas—"
The word slipped from his mouth on instinct, but he quickly swallowed it back.
His face twisted with pain and confusion. "Why… why is it… you…"
Even on the edge of death, he turned his head away in pride. Yet, in his heart, he was secretly relieved. Song Wanníng had come. He was safe now.
Even if he had been expelled from the sect, she still cared. Otherwise, why would she show up here?
He felt smug. He was so talented—how could Song Wanníng possibly abandon someone like him?
"I came to ask you a question," Song Wanníng said, staring down at his broken form. There was a cold gleam in her eyes.
"Why do you care so much about Ye Chuxue?"
An Ze didn't even like Ye Chuxue. But he had stood up for her, searched for medicine, even turned against his master for her.
Song Wanníng wanted to understand why.
An Ze forced a twisted smile through the pain.
"Ye… once… saved me… on a mission…"
His voice was broken, proud and shaky, as he slowly explained their past.
Song Wanníng's gaze flickered. It was just as she had suspected.
"Then tell me," she said softly. "Was I not good to you?"
She had held this question back for a long time.
Even immortals had feelings. So did she.
After everything she gave in her previous life, how could she not care?
If she truly didn't, she wouldn't hate so deeply in this one.
So she wanted an answer.
An Ze paused, confused by the question. Then he looked at her strangely and replied, "You… being good to me… wasn't that… your duty? If not for my… talent, you… wouldn't have… taken me in…"
To him, Song Wanníng had only treated him well because she saw potential. Everything she gave was transactional, mutually beneficial.
But Ye Chuxue was different.
She had helped him for no reason. Out of pure kindness.
It was a rare thing. And that was why it moved him.
He blurted out the truth without hesitation.
Song Wanníng went still.
In her past life, she had been hunted down, forced to hide in Ghost Mountain. In desperation, she had sent messages to her disciples.
She didn't yet know they had already betrayed her. She still hoped someone would come.
An Ze did.
She thought she had been saved.
But what greeted her was a blade.
"Master, I heard you fell into the demonic path. Now that I see you myself, it's true. You reek of demonic energy."
"Don't blame me for doubting. Anyone could tell just by looking."
"Unwilling to return? Then don't blame me for acting righteously and cutting ties."
…
He struck without hesitation. No concern for their bond. No respect in his eyes.
Just like now.
Song Wanníng suddenly smiled. Her eyes cleared.
It wasn't just An Ze. Bai Yang, whom she raised with her own hands, had done the same.
Because she loved too much. Because she never asked for anything in return. She had made them bold.
They believed her care was owed to them.
They never felt grateful.
And when she fell into darkness, they used the excuse of protecting the righteous path to kill her, using her as a stepping stone to fame.
She had made a mistake.
But not in caring too much.
Her mistake was in taking them as disciples in the first place.