Chapter 41
[After losing her cultivation, Nangong Ying gradually sank into depression.]
[She listened as Nangong Wen comforted and encouraged her, forcing out a faint smile—but she could no longer speak. Her heart had gone numb, her expression lifeless.]
[As time passed, Nangong Wen stopped indulging her. Her patience wore thin; her gaze turned sharp, her words cold. The bond between the sisters began to strain.]
Lou Yuqing let out a quiet sigh as she read.
Across from her, Chen Mujian glanced at Nangong Wen with concern.
Though the mysterious voice seemed to place blame on Wen’er, he knew her too well—she was not someone capable of such heartlessness.
Nangong Wen only shook her head slightly at him, her gaze fixed on Nangong Ying.
Her sister stood there with her head lowered, long hair veiling her face completely, leaving nothing visible.
For a moment, Nangong Wen felt a flicker of disorientation.
How long had it been… since she had truly seen her sister’s face?
The answer didn’t come.
Only the vague sense that it had been a very, very long time.
Her intentions had never been cruel. She had thought that provoking her sister—forcing a reaction—might shake her free from the shadow of her ruined cultivation.
That had been her method.
As long as Ying’er responded… things could still be salvaged.
But no matter how much she argued, no matter how sharp her words became, Nangong Ying remained distant—like someone sealed away in her own world.
Even now, after hearing everything the voice had revealed, she showed no reaction at all.
A flicker of anger rose in Nangong Wen’s chest.
Her lips parted—then slowly pressed shut again.
The anger faded as quickly as it came, leaving behind only frustration.
Her method had failed.
Worse—it had driven them to this.
Where she couldn’t see, Nangong Ying’s eyes trembled faintly beneath the curtain of her hair. A trace of struggle flickered through them… only to fade again, her gaze returning to stillness, like a puppet carved from wood.
Chen Mujian reached out and gently patted Nangong Wen’s shoulder, his expression soft with quiet concern.
They had met years ago, during the beast tide at Yongding City—assigned to the same squad, surviving one life-and-death moment after another. Somewhere along the way, amidst blood and danger, their feelings had taken root.
After the mission, Wen’er had spoken of her younger sister. She had wanted to introduce them, and he had looked forward to it.
But before that could happen, the accident came.
Only then did he realize—the “younger sister” she had always spoken of was Nangong Ying, the once-rising star of the sect.
For her sake, Wen’er had traveled far and wide, searching ancient texts, chasing even the faintest possibility of a cure.
Chen Mujian felt a quiet ache for her. But he had never once told her to give up.
No matter how painful it was… family was still family.
He had grown up alone, an orphan without ties. He knew too well what it meant to have nothing.
He didn’t want her to lose that as well.
Whenever Nangong Wen was absent, he would occasionally visit the Spirit Beast Garden—checking on Nangong Ying, making sure she wasn’t being bullied.
At first glance, she had left him with a clear impression: withdrawn, distant.
But over time, he realized—she wasn’t unresponsive.
Just… slow to react.
And perhaps deliberately avoiding others.
Today, before the Seven Sects Joint Competition, the sect held its internal selection matches.
Wen’er had brought Ying’er to watch, hoping the sight of cultivators battling might stir something within her.
But from beginning to end—there had been no reaction.
Frustration had gotten the better of her. She had grabbed Ying’er and dragged her away, scolding her all the way toward the Spirit Beast Garden.
To be fair… her words had been harsh.
Then, near the Enforcement Hall—everything snapped.
Ying’er had suddenly shaken free and said, in a flat, distant voice: “Then leave me alone.”
Chen Mujian remembered it clearly.
That tone—as if she were speaking to a stranger.
The argument that followed escalated quickly.
He had tried not to interfere, unwilling to take sides—and the situation only worsened.
Until, eventually… they were dragged into the Enforcement Hall.
Chen Mujian’s gaze swept the hall, sharp with suspicion.
That voice—where had it come from?
If he found whoever it was, casually tearing open someone else’s wounds like this… he wouldn’t let them off easily.
At that moment, Lou Yuqing’s inner voice rang out again—bright, curious, completely unbothered by the tension in the room.
[Let me see.]
[Why did Nangong Ying become like this?]
[There’s no such thing as an illness without a cause… some are just hidden too deeply.]
Chen Mujian froze.
His eyes widened in disbelief.
She… can find the cause?
Beside him, Nangong Wen felt as though lightning had struck her.
She stood there, stunned—then suddenly looked up, her eyes filled with desperate hope.
Malice? Accusation?
None of that mattered.
If this voice could tell her how to save her sister—what did a few harsh words mean?
Si Nidie blinked, momentarily stunned.
…This worked?
Then, after a brief pause, realization dawned.
Actually… it made perfect sense.
Her junior sister’s inner voice seemed to know everything. Compared to that, uncovering the cause of an illness—even one the Medical Sage couldn’t diagnose—felt almost… routine.
In the future, matters like this could probably be handed to her without worry.
Just as she held her breath, waiting—
Lou Yuqing glanced around, puzzled.
[Why is everyone suddenly so quiet?]
Si Nidie’s heart skipped.
Oh no.
She’d miscalculated.
She cleared her throat and immediately put on a stern expression. “Speak. Confess quickly and do not resist—otherwise, I will charge you with obstructing the Enforcement Hall’s duties.”
At the mention of a possible solution, Nangong Wen was too overwhelmed to speak. She tugged urgently at Chen Mujian’s sleeve.
He understood at once and stepped forward.
“This disciple wouldn’t dare conceal anything,” he said. “The situation is as follows…”
As he explained, Lou Yuqing’s confusion cleared.
Her gaze fell back onto the system interface—and the moment she saw the key words, her thoughts burst out instinctively.
[Poisoned!]
[Nangong Ying didn’t lose her cultivation naturally—she was poisoned by a Spirit-Absorbing Gu from the Southern Frontier!]
[This Gu is extremely domineering. Once it parasitizes a host, it continuously devours their spiritual energy—until the host dies!]
What?!
Nangong Wen’s body swayed, nearly losing her footing.
A Gu worm.
Her sister had been poisoned by a Gu—and not just any Gu, but something called a Spirit-Absorbing Gu.
Even the name carried a chilling weight.
“Ying’er…”
Her voice trembled as she grabbed her sister’s hand, all cold composure shattering into raw pain.
She couldn’t imagine it—her once-proud sister, reduced to this by something so insidious.
Her cultivation stripped away.
A red birthmark marring her face, forcing her to hide behind her hair, avoiding others, shrinking into herself…
Nangong Ying instinctively tried to pull away.
But Nangong Wen held on tightly.
For a brief moment, Ying glanced up—then lowered her head again.
That fleeting response only deepened Nangong Wen’s ache.
And yet… a fragile thought surfaced.
At least she was reacting.
At least she wasn’t completely numb anymore.
Just as that thought settled—
Lou Yuqing’s voice rang out again, sharper this time, laced with disbelief.
[Good heavens… just how much does the person behind this hate Nangong Ying?]
[The Spirit-Absorbing Gu wasn’t the only thing used on her.]
[There’s another one—the Beauty Gu.]
[It’s not for enhancing beauty. As the name suggests, it causes a red birthmark to spread across the face, gradually covering it entirely.]
[The one inside Nangong Ying is a mutated variant. Its effect on appearance is weaker—but instead, it directly damages the host’s personality and temperament.]
[Her timid, withdrawn behavior… isn’t just from losing her cultivation. It’s the Red Beauty Gu.]
The words struck like thunder.
Nangong Wen’s thoughts snapped back from the edge of grief, only to be drowned by a surge of realization.
Yes.
Her younger sister had never been one to give up—never that kind of person. Not when she still had her. They had always relied on each other, leaning shoulder to shoulder through every hardship, enduring everything together.
So how could things have come to this?
There was only one answer.
Someone had interfered.
Someone had tampered with her sister… and forced her into this hollow, broken state.
The guilt struck all at once—sharp, suffocating.
Without thinking, Nangong Wen pulled Nangong Ying into her arms, holding her tightly, as if afraid that loosening her grip even slightly would make her disappear.
How had she missed it?
All these years… not even a trace?
Her sister had once been so bright. So clever. So alive.
And now—
Nangong Ying stiffened at the sudden embrace, her body going rigid in surprise. Warmth seeped slowly into her shoulder, unfamiliar, almost distant.
Through the curtain of her hair, her gaze flickered.
…Is she crying?
The thought surfaced slowly, as if pushing through thick fog.
After a brief hesitation, she raised her hand—uncertain, almost mechanical—and awkwardly returned the gesture. Her arms circled Nangong Wen, and she gave a light, clumsy pat against her back.
Don’t cry.
The motion lacked grace.
But it was real.
Nangong Wen froze.
For a heartbeat, everything stopped.
Then—she broke.
Her breath hitched violently as tears surged out of her, uncontrollable, unstoppable. Her grip tightened, fingers trembling as she clung to Nangong Ying like a lifeline.
“Ying’er… I was wrong…” Her voice fractured, barely holding together. “I didn’t take care of you… I didn’t—”
The rest dissolved into sobs, raw and unrestrained, years of buried guilt crashing free all at once.
Chen Mujian let out a quiet sigh as he watched.
For years, Ying’er’s condition had been a thorn in Wen’er’s heart—one that only sank deeper each time it was touched. It had worn her down, little by little, until warmth gave way to sharpness, and patience to cold restraint.
And now… because of that strange voice—something had finally shifted.
If he ever found its source… he might actually thank them.
Lou Yuqing: “…”
If she knew this same person had wanted to beat her up just moments ago, she’d probably have no words.
The speed of that emotional turnaround was… impressive.
Watching the two sisters crying in each other’s arms, Lou Yuqing tilted her head and glanced at Si Nidie, genuinely puzzled.
“Senior Sister… did you make her cry?”
Si Nidie went utterly still.
Wronged.
Completely, thoroughly wronged.
This was obviously her junior sister’s doing—so how, exactly, had the blame landed squarely on her head?
Across from her, Gu Buqi had already retreated into his own thoughts, the word echoing quietly in his mind.
Poisoned.
It lingered there, heavy.
When had the Wendao Sect ever become entangled with the Southern Frontier?
Was this truly the work of Southern Xinjiang… or had someone deliberately staged it to shift suspicion in that direction?
He turned the possibilities over one by one, weighing them carefully.
No matter how he looked at it, the matter couldn’t be separated from Southern Xinjiang.
And Gu worms…
That was a field far outside their expertise.
If they wanted to cure this girl, there was only one path—they had to go there. Find someone who actually understood these things.
Then, suddenly—a name surfaced in his mind.
Tan Sheng.
A Gu Master from the Holy Mountain of Southern Xinjiang.
Back in Ping’an City, during the confrontation with the Meng family, Meng Siyu had revealed the existence of the Myriad Gu Scripture through a recording stone. That single revelation had drawn both Tan Sheng and his master into the matter.
Now, Tan Sheng’s master had already returned to the Holy Mountain with the scripture.
As for Tan Sheng himself—though young, his expertise far surpassed theirs.
Even if he couldn’t cure the Gu directly, he could at least guide Nangong Ying back to the Holy Mountain.
And more importantly… they owed him a favor.
Because of the Myriad Gu Scripture, there was no reason for him to refuse.
At the same time—
Lou Yuqing arrived at the exact same conclusion.
[Someone from Southern Xinjiang… and we just happen to have one in our sect.]
[How do I nudge Nangong Ying’s sister into seeking him out… or better yet, get Tan Sheng to approach them naturally and reveal the cause himself?]
Her face scrunched slightly in concentration.
Si Nidie, catching that thought, felt her heart stir.
Finding Tan Sheng right now… might not be easy.
Ever since she had decided to play matchmaker, she had arranged for Tan Sheng and Wu Fengshu to meet.
Counting the days—it had been about half a month.
If things hadn’t gone well, Tan Sheng would have returned long ago.
The fact that he hadn’t… well.
That could only mean one thing. Things were going very well.
Si Nidie hesitated.
She really didn’t want to interrupt a blossoming romance.
But this wasn’t something she could decide on her own.
With a quiet sigh, she sent a voice transmission.
“Spirit-Absorbing Gu. Beauty Gu. What’s the solution?”
—
Minghuang Mountain.
At the peak, within an octagonal pavilion, a young man and woman stood side by side, gazing out at the distant scenery.
A breeze passed between them.
They exchanged a glance.
No words needed.
Everything was understood.
The young man, adorned with silver ornaments that gleamed faintly in the light—simple, yet intricate—was none other than Tan Sheng.
Before coming here, he had never imagined he would meet someone like this.
Someone who matched him so effortlessly.
No matter what he said—she understood.
And responded in kind.
It felt… right.
Originally, he had planned to return to the Wendao Sect within a few days. His master had left him there; lingering outside for too long would go against his instructions.
But somehow—he kept delaying.
Putting it off.
Again and again.
Now, as he looked at Wu Fengshu’s bright, easy smile, a quiet contentment settled in his chest.
His master would understand.
Surely.
After all—being single and being in a relationship were two entirely different states of existence.
At that moment, his communication jade slip lit up.
Si Nidie’s voice came through.
Tan Sheng held a certain respect for this self-appointed matchmaker. Though the question puzzled him, he didn’t pry.
After a brief pause, he spoke. “The Spirit-Absorbing Gu is nearly extinct. It originally came from a clan on the Holy Mountain—but that clan was wiped out in an internal rebellion over sixty years ago.”
He lowered his gaze slightly, voice steady. “Since then, the method of cultivating it has been lost.”
A short pause followed before he continued. “Once it parasitizes a host, it continuously devours their spiritual energy. No matter how the host cultivates afterward… everything is consumed by the Gu.”
His tone cooled. “In effect, it reduces a person to nothing more than a vessel.”
A faint breath left him.
“Cruel. Absolute.”
Then, as if recalling something, he added, “It’s also extremely difficult to cultivate. At most, only three can be produced in a year. After that clan fell, the Spirit-Absorbing Gu surfaced only five times… before disappearing entirely.”
Si Nidie’s heart tightened. “Then… is there a way to cure it?”
Tan Sheng shook his head. “The methods for both cultivation and removal were lost along with it. There are no surviving records.”
Then, after a brief hesitation, he added, “…Why are you asking? Has someone been afflicted?”
“Yes,” Si Nidie replied, her tone strained.
“When?”
“…About twenty years ago.”
Tan Sheng blinked. “…They didn’t die?”
His expression turned strange.
Si Nidie frowned slightly. “It’s not appropriate to curse someone like that.”
“I’m not cursing them,” Tan Sheng said flatly. “I’m asking a question.”
He paused, then continued, tone turning more serious. “A person infected with the Spirit-Absorbing Gu would have their spiritual energy drained continuously. At most… they could survive a few years.”
Silence lingered for a heartbeat.
Then—
“Twenty years?”
He let out a short, incredulous breath, disbelief clear in his voice. “How many lives does this person have?”
This time, Si Nidie fell silent.
Something wasn’t right.
Her junior sister’s judgment couldn’t be wrong—so where was the problem?
A possibility surfaced, faint but unsettling.
A fake? A disguised variant?
Unaware that she had come dangerously close to the truth, she pushed the thought aside and continued,
“Then what about the Beauty Gu? Can that be cured? She’s been afflicted with that as well.”
On the other end, Tan Sheng’s brows drew together.
“How long?”
“…Around the same time.”
Silence.
For a moment, he said nothing at all.
Then—
“I’ll ask again.” His voice was completely flat. “How many lives does this person have?”
Si Nidie instinctively glanced toward Nangong Ying.
The girl stood quietly at the center of the hall, slight and fragile, as though the weight of everything had settled onto her alone.
“…Probably one,” Si Nidie said, not entirely certain.
Tan Sheng let out a slow breath. “Those infected with the Beauty Gu develop red markings on their face—that’s only the surface.”
He paused briefly, then continued, his tone lowering. “The real effect… is that it devours the host’s life force. It’s even more vicious than the Spirit-Absorbing Gu.”
Another pause—just long enough for the weight of it to sink in.
“Even a body cultivator with strong vitality wouldn’t last more than three months.”
Beside him, Wu Fengshu’s expression shifted subtly. Her brows knit together, and without realizing it, her hand rose to her face, fingertips brushing lightly against her skin.
Back in the hall—
“Hiss—”
Si Nidie drew in a sharp breath.
By Tan Sheng’s explanation, Nangong Ying’s condition wasn’t just unusual—it was completely abnormal.
A cold thought slipped quietly into her mind.
…Could it be—that she had already been replaced?
The more she considered it, the colder her spine felt. Her gaze shifted toward Nangong Ying, growing increasingly cautious, almost wary.
At that moment, Nangong Ying seemed to sense it.
She tilted her head slightly and glanced over.
Her eyes were clear—too clear. Like a still spring, transparent and unguarded, as if anyone could see straight through her.
Si Nidie stiffened, caught off guard.
For a brief second, their gazes met—and she looked away first.
A flicker of guilt rose in her chest.
…What was she thinking?
How could she suspect a girl like this?
So quiet. So harmless.
The thought lingered—then shifted.
A mutated Red Beauty Gu…
The phrase echoed in her mind, circling once, twice—and then it clicked.
A spark of realization flared.
“That’s it,” Si Nidie said abruptly, her voice steadying as the pieces fell into place. “It’s probably because the Gu mutated. That’s why her life force hasn’t been completely drained… she’s just become a little dull.”
On the other end, Tan Sheng murmured the words under his breath.
“Mutated Gu worm…”
He paused.
Then—understanding dawned.
He had been looking at it the wrong way all along.
Before, he had assumed a complete, perfected Gu. But this… this was something else entirely.
A half-finished creation. Unstable. Flawed.
And because of that—his gaze sharpened slightly.
On the Holy Mountain, there existed a method for removing Gu.
Different Gu worms existed on different tiers—different “life levels.” Lower-tier Gu would instinctively submit to higher-tier ones, obeying their master without resistance.
In this situation, even without fully understanding the composition of this mutated Gu—he could still use that hierarchy.
Introduce a higher-level Gu.
Suppress it.
Force it out.
A clean extraction.
“It can be done,” Tan Sheng said at last. “Using a higher-level Gu to suppress it and command it to leave the host’s body.”
He paused briefly. “The success rate… is fifty percent.”
Si Nidie frowned. “Only half?”
“Of course,” Tan Sheng continued, “there’s another method.”
His tone slowed, deliberate. “Find the person who cast the Gu—and have them remove it personally. That can increase the success rate by another twenty percent.”
Si Nidie blinked, startled. “Still not guaranteed?”
Tan Sheng gave a short, almost helpless reply. “It’s a semi-finished product.”
Unstable by nature.
Even if cultivated the same way—there was no guarantee the result would be identical.
Too many unknown variables.
Si Nidie fell quiet for a moment, digesting it.
“…That’s still something.”
With that, the glow of the communication jade slip faded.
The connection cut.
On Minghuang Mountain, Tan Sheng stared at the dimmed slip for a second, slightly puzzled.
He had expected her to ask him to come.
Instead—she ended the conversation immediately.
A thought surfaced.
…Could she have already found the person who cast the Gu?
He dismissed it almost instantly.
Impossible.
Even in Southern Xinjiang, tracking down the source of a Gu was like searching for a needle in the ocean.
If she could really find them—he’d have to rethink a few things.
Back in the Enforcement Hall—
Si Nidie let out a soft snort in her heart.
Unexpected, right?
She might not be able to find them—but her junior sister?
That was a different story.
Casually, she spoke aloud, her tone tinged with just the right amount of curiosity. “What a tragedy… Who could have done something like this to Nangong Ying?”
She paused, then added lightly, “Could it be some deep-seated grudge?”
Nangong Wen’s thoughts were already in chaos.
Tan Sheng.
Who was he?
Where was he?
How could she find him?
The moment she heard Si Nidie’s question, she seized it without hesitation.
“Ying’er has always been gentle,” she said quickly, voice trembling. “She’s never made enemies. I don’t know who could be so cruel… to turn her into this.”
By the end, her voice broke again, tears spilling uncontrollably.
Chen Mujian drew her closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
“Don’t worry,” he said softly. “Ying’er will recover.”
Nangong Wen shook her head, eyes swollen red from crying. “I won’t be able to rest… not until we find that person. And Ying’er…”
Her voice faltered. “She won’t get better just by waiting.”
At that moment—
Lou Yuqing’s thoughts surfaced again, bright, curious, cutting straight through the tension like a blade.
[So they already know Nangong Ying was harmed?]
[Well… that makes sense. Things don’t just turn out like this for no reason.]
A brief pause.
Then—the next line dropped like thunder.
[No one would’ve expected it.]
[The one who used the Gu… is the other Twin Star of the Wendao Sect—Mu Yunqing.]