Chapter 23
Lou Yuqing’s gaze followed the voice to the young man who had just spoken.
He was strikingly handsome, a faint smile playing at his lips that made him seem easygoing—almost harmless at first glance. But the closer one looked, the more unusual he became.
Silver ornaments adorned his neck, arms, and waist, chiming softly with each step. The style was unmistakable—something unique to the Southern Frontier—giving him an air that was both exotic and faintly unsettling.
At that moment, his eyes rested on Meng’s mother, and the smile deepened with unmistakable delight.
“Well, well… like finding a needle in a haystack,” he said lightly. “You actually managed to escape the Southern Frontier. No wonder they couldn’t find you all these years.”
Mother Meng stiffened. Her fingers tightened around Father Meng’s sleeve, knuckles whitening as she forced herself to stay composed.
“I don’t know you,” she said, voice strained but steady. “And I’ve never been to the Southern Frontier. How could I possibly be the person you’re talking about?”
Father Meng, thoroughly confused, immediately backed her up. “Fellow Daoist, you need evidence before making accusations. My wife comes from the eastern coast—she fled there because of a flood. Are you certain you haven’t mistaken her for someone else?”
“Evidence?” The young man tilted his head, tone leisurely. “Didn’t you just hear it yourself?”
His gaze flicked toward Meng Siyu, then back again. “Your son admitted it quite clearly in that recording stone—he read the Ten Thousand Gu Manual from her possession. Do you even know what that is?”
Father Meng frowned, instinctively asking, “What is it?”
The young man smiled faintly. “It’s a scripture that records nearly every known Gu worm in existence. One of the core inheritances of the Sacred Mountain of the Southern Frontier.”
He let the words settle before continuing, voice soft but cutting. “Over sixty years ago, there was chaos on the Sacred Mountain. During that time… someone took the opportunity to steal it.”
His gaze locked onto Mother Meng. “And to this day—it hasn’t been recovered.”
The implication hung in the air, sharp and undeniable.
Father Meng’s face went blank.
He understood.
Too well.
“You—” His voice wavered as he turned to his wife. “Refute him. Say something!”
Mother Meng’s face had already turned ashen. Her lips trembled, but no words came. After a long moment, she lowered her head in silence.
There was nothing she could say.
This man knew too much. If she lied, she would only expose herself further.
Father Meng felt as though the ground beneath him had vanished. His thoughts spun wildly—her origins, her past, everything he thought he knew—crumbling in an instant.
Yesterday, everything had been fine.
So how had it come to this?
Around them, the crowd shifted, their gazes darting between the members of the Meng family.
First the son, now the mother.
One revelation more shocking than the last.
Southern Frontier had always been a place shrouded in mystery. They didn’t fully understand the significance of the Ten Thousand Gu Manual—but after hearing about the Bloodsucking Gu, hearing that it could cure congenital illness… they didn’t need to.
The value was obvious.
And so were the dangers.
The young man’s smile widened slightly as he addressed the crowd.
“Let me give you a piece of advice,” he said. “If you’re not from the Sacred Mountain, touching the Ten Thousand Gu Manual leads to only one outcome—death.”
He emphasized the final word.
Despite the pleasant expression on his face, the shift in his aura was unmistakable—sharp, oppressive. The crowd instinctively shrank back, any reckless thoughts immediately cooling.
And yet—Lou Yuqing suddenly spoke up, pointing curiously at Mother Meng.
“But it’s been more than sixty years,” she said, tilting her head. “She’s still alive. What, does it take a hundred years before she dies?”
The question was so blunt it nearly knocked the tension sideways.
For a split second, everyone froze.
…Wait.
That was true.
Mother Meng was still alive.
The realization rippled through the crowd, stirring new waves of speculation.
The young man raised a brow, amused. “Of course she’s alive. Someone else took the price for her.”
His gaze slid lazily toward Meng Siyu, laced with open mockery. “Poor thing. Sick since childhood, wasn’t he?”
Meng Siyu’s mind exploded.
Not congenital—
Man-made?
The realization hit like a thunderbolt.
“So it was you—!” His voice tore out hoarse and broken, eyes blazing with fury as he stared at his mother. “You caused all of this! You made me suffer like this my entire life!”
His body trembled violently, rage spilling over. “You ruined me—and you ruined him too! You don’t deserve to be a mother!”
Each word stabbed deep.
Mother Meng staggered as if struck, her lips moving soundlessly. “…Is it… my fault?”
Beside her, Father Meng slapped his thigh hard, face twisted in anguish. “What a tragedy… what a tragedy!”
The young man’s words had detonated like a bomb, reducing the fragile structure of the Meng family to ruins in an instant.
Wei Houming watched the scene unfold, a faint sense of absurdity rising in his chest.
But it didn’t last.
The past was the past.
He had already let it go.
After the explanation, many in the crowd quietly abandoned their earlier thoughts. No treasure was worth their lives. Still, a few lingered at the edge of greed—because fortune, after all, favored the bold.
At that moment, Gu Buqi’s gaze shifted forward.
Two powerful auras were approaching rapidly—each one on par with Elder Wei Tu.
One of them… was unmistakably the city lord of Ping’an City.
The other—
Gu Buqi paused, glancing briefly at the young man. Their cultivation methods aligned, their auras nearly identical.
So that must be his master.
“Your city lord has arrived,” Elder Wei Tu said calmly.
The burly man with thick brows quickly turned—and sure enough, the city lord was already descending. He hurried forward with his subordinates, bowing respectfully.
“City Lord, the suspect is over there.”
The city lord was a middle-aged man with a well-groomed beard, his presence dignified. His gaze swept across the scene before settling on Elder Wei Tu, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“Fellow Daoist Wei,” he greeted with a polite nod. “It’s been many years. My men didn’t recognize you—please forgive any offense.”
He was cautious.
Others might not know who Wei Tu was—but he did.
And he knew better than to be careless.
Elder Wei Tu smiled faintly. “You’re too polite. Now tell me—how do you intend to handle the matter of demonic collusion? If it’s proven true, death would be a reasonable sentence, wouldn’t it?”
“Of course, of course,” the city lord agreed immediately.
At the same time, the young man stepped forward and greeted the cultivator beside him.
“Master.”
“I know,” the man replied calmly. “Where is the traitor?”
He wore a robe so brightly colored it bordered on gaudy—but somehow, on him, it worked. His features were refined, his bearing elegant, tempering the excess into something striking rather than vulgar.
Lou Yuqing blinked, silently judging.
Both master and disciple… good-looking.
Of course, still slightly inferior to her and her master.
Naturally.
The young man pointed toward Mother Meng.
Master Huayi stepped forward and addressed the city lord—and more importantly, Elder Wei Tu.
“Fellow Daoists, this woman is a traitor to our Southern Frontier. Her case concerns the inheritance of the Sacred Mountain. Would you be willing to grant us the authority to handle her?”
They had already discussed this on the way. This was more formality than anything—but the real decision rested with Elder Wei Tu.
Wei Tu considered for a brief moment before nodding. “If you can uphold what I just discussed with the city lord, then you may take her.”
“Rest assured,” Master Huayi replied without hesitation. “The Sacred Mountain and the demonic path are irreconcilable enemies. And as for her—stealing the Ten Thousand Gu Manual is a crime punishable by death.”
As he spoke, his aura spread outward—vast and suffocating.
In an instant, any lingering greed in the crowd was crushed flat.
With a Nascent Soul expert standing here, who would dare covet anything?
And far beyond Lou Yuqing’s awareness—
Somewhere unseen—
The system quietly scrolled a line of text.
Lou Yuqing, however, was staring at her panel, brow furrowed.
Her eyes fixed on a single name.