Chapter Sixty-Four

There really was Puppet Gu inside the original host's body?

Who had done this to the original host?

It had been at least ten years ago — which meant it had happened while the original host was still in the mortal realm.

If that was the case, an absurd thought struck Chú Róng's mind like a bolt of lightning: could all those evil things the original host had done also have been…?

Ning Yuan looked steadily at the pallor spreading across the face of the person in his arms, and a flash of pain passed through the depths of his eyes. He glanced sharply at Yún Sōng: "Can you remove the Puppet Gu from Róng's body?"

Róng?

Was that this young master's given name?

Yún Sōng kept his head low, thought for a moment, and answered honestly: "I can, and I cannot."

Can means can, cannot means cannot — what was the point of such an ambiguous answer? Ning Yuan's tone dropped, the oppressive weight of someone in authority pressing down directly onto Yún Sōng: "What do you mean?"

A chill crept up Yún Sōng's spine and shot straight to the crown of his head. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. His body trembled as he answered with great care: "The Puppet Gu inside Young Master is clearly the offspring gu. The offspring gu only answers to the mother gu. To remove the Puppet Gu, the mother gu must first be destroyed. Even if Sōng possessed heaven-splitting abilities, he could not remove the offspring gu while the mother gu still exists."

Ning Yuan's sharp brow furrowed, his gaze carrying a bone-chilling killing intent: "What about forcibly destroying the offspring gu? That wouldn't work either?"

Over the past four months, Ning Yuan had witnessed too many episodes of Chú Róng's condition. He truly did not want to see Chú Róng suffer under the Puppet Gu any longer.

"Absolutely not!" Yún Sōng's expression changed drastically. He hurried to stop it: "After ten years of nourishment, the mother gu and offspring gu are linked in heart and mind. If the mother gu were to detect that the offspring gu was in danger, it would use remote control to have the offspring gu's host killed at once. Young Master would lose his life!"

This was the most troublesome aspect of removing Puppet Gu. The Immortal Venerable clearly held this young master in great regard. If the young master suffered any mishap, the Immortal Venerable would very likely skin him alive.

No matter how great Yún Sōng's medical skills, he would not dare act rashly.

"In other words, the only way to remove the Puppet Gu is to destroy the mother gu?" Ning Yuan's gaze was sharp as a blade, sweeping across the top of Yún Sōng's head.

Yún Sōng's hands shook, and he pressed his head lower still: "Yes. And beyond that — the offspring gu has been surviving inside Young Master's body for too long. Judging by the frequency of Young Master's episodes, the toxin in Young Master's blood has likely already accumulated to a considerable degree. If the Puppet Gu is not removed quickly, once the toxin accumulates to a certain point, even if the mother gu is destroyed afterward, it will be too late to help."

Ning Yuan's heart sank sharply. Something came to mind. He said slowly: "When the accumulated toxin blocks the meridians — does it make even spiritual energy ineffective?"

Yún Sōng's head snapped up. His face was written all over with astonishment: "How did the Immortal Venerable know?"

So it was true.

No wonder when he had used spiritual energy to treat Chú Róng's injuries before, every bit of it he'd fed in had disappeared without a trace. Ning Yuan's face darkened further.

Yún Sōng's brow twitched. He hurriedly bowed his head again and drew from his sleeve a pure white medicine vial, offering it to Ning Yuan with great care: "This medicine can temporarily suppress the toxin inside Young Master's body and alleviate the pain when an episode strikes. However, the medicine is refined from top-grade spirit grasses and spirit flowers, and its potency is too strong. Young Master's mortal body may not withstand the medicinal force. It is necessary to…"

Chú Róng turned his head to the side and looked at Yún Sōng with curiosity.

Yún Sōng let out a dry cough. The tips of his ears turned a little red. He lowered his voice and completed the explanation: "…divide the spirit pill into six equal parts, grind it on the tongue to dissolve most of the medicinal potency, and then transfer it mouth-to-mouth into Young Master's mouth. The process of dissolving the medicinal potency requires the utmost care. Only a person of exceptionally deep cultivation can accomplish it."

These words had all but named Ning Yuan directly.

Chú Róng pressed his lips together. Thinking of Ning Yuan's terrifying kisses over the past few days, his long, dense lashes trembled faintly. His whole heart recoiled. He did not want to receive medicine this way.

And yet, thinking back on the near-death agony of his episodes, an involuntary shudder ran through him, and he couldn't help but waver.

Without waiting for Chú Róng to finish deliberating, the man's low, hoarse voice reached him: "How often should it be taken?"

Chú Róng raised his lashes. The man stretched out his well-defined hand to take the medicine, his long black lashes lowering as he carefully examined the labelling on the vial.

Sensing that Chú Róng was watching him, the man looked up. His intense gaze locked onto him, and the deep, churning undercurrent in his eyes surged without any concealment — like the sea in a tempest, threatening to swallow him whole.

Chú Róng's fingertips trembled faintly, and he hastily shifted his gaze away in panic.

Yún Sōng kept his head lowered, oblivious to the brief episode on the couch: "Take it when an episode strikes — one pill per dose. However, this medicine only treats the symptoms and not the root cause. The toxin has been accumulating in Young Master's body for years, and his constitution has been greatly depleted. Once the offspring gu is removed, a proper period of recuperation will still be needed. But the same problem remains — Young Master is a mortal, and many medicinal herbs in the cultivation world cannot be used directly. The Immortal Venerable will need to dissolve the medicinal potency from each one individually, a process that is both complicated and requires a great deal of spiritual energy…"

"That's fine." Ning Yuan didn't even pause to think before agreeing without hesitation. At the Mahayana stage, he had spiritual energy to spare: "What else does the Immortal need to do?"

"Just this for now." Yún Sōng thought for a moment: "Sōng will go and write out a prescription. Once the medicines are prepared, they will be sent to Wangxian Peak."

"Granted. Whatever else is needed in future, come and find me at any time." Ning Yuan raised his hand slightly, indicating that Yún Sōng could withdraw: "Have the Inner Door Steward sent to Wangxian Peak."

Yún Sōng bowed respectfully and accepted the order, then withdrew with a slight bow.

Outside the palace.

Jìn Tuò and the others had not yet left. Seeing Yún Sōng come out of the palace, Jìn Tuò took three steps to close the two, crowding forward: "What did the Immortal Venerable summon you for?"

"To have me examine Young Master Róng." Jìn Tuò was the sect master, and his questions were not something Yún Sōng would conceal from him.

Young Master Róng?

An image of half of a devastatingly beautiful face surfaced unbidden in Jìn Tuò's mind. His breath tightened involuntarily, and he asked: "The one the Immortal Venerable brought back?"

"Precisely." Yún Sōng nodded.

Jìn Tuò furrowed his brows deeply, staring at Yún Sōng in disbelief: "Didn't you always refuse to treat anyone outside the sect?"

"Did I?" Yún Sōng looked bewildered. Then he thought of the rumour circulating in the sect and pressed his hand to his forehead, his expression torn between laughter and exasperation: "That's false. I only find it troublesome to have to travel back and forth treating people outside the sect. I never made any such rule."

Besides — in front of the Immortal Venerable, did he dare say no?

Furthermore, stepping back: even if he had truly made such a rule, given how much the Immortal Venerable valued Young Master Róng, the young master was sooner or later going to be a member of Qīngxū Sect. Treating Young Master Róng would hardly constitute a violation of any rule.

"The Immortal Venerable has another order for me to relay. I'll take my leave first." Without waiting for Jìn Tuò and the others to press him further, Yún Sōng departed in a hurry.

Without a summons from Ning Yuan, Jìn Tuò and the others didn't dare enter the palace. They exchanged glances and gradually withdrew from Wangxian Peak one by one.

—

Inside the palace.

By the jade couch, the orchid fragrance drifted lazily through the air.

Ning Yuan turned the medicine vial in his hand and bowed his head to look at the person in his arms. The young man's long lashes were lowered, as though lost in thought. In the cool, sparse light of the palace, his face — with not a trace of colour — had the texture of fine white porcelain.

"Are you thinking about who planted the gu?" Ning Yuan's strong, firm hand held Chú Róng's waist in a tight grip. His eyes were deep and penetrating, as if capable of reading a person's heart.

"There are a few candidates." Chú Róng gave a brief account of his background. His long, feathery lashes fanned and settled, concealing the surging light in his eyes: "But I don't know which one for certain."

In the original text, the original host's storyline was mainly concentrated in the world of cultivation. The original host's life in the mortal realm had only been described in a few brief sentences when recounting his past. The original host had few connections in the mortal realm, but none of them could be separated from the Marquis of Anguo's household.

As for why a household in the mortal realm would possess a Puppet Gu unique to the cultivation world — with spiritual energy in the world of cultivation scarce, and the resources that could be plundered since the Hundred Immortal Sects erected their Mountain-Guard Formations growing fewer and fewer, many cultivators within various sects had defected and gone astray, pledging their service to powerful noble households in the mortal world in exchange for profit.

The Marquis of Anguo's household was a prominent noble family in the capital. Having taken in a few cultivators was perfectly unsurprising.

What Chú Róng couldn't puzzle out was: if this truly was the Marquis's doing, the original host had been a discarded child — they could beat or kill him as they pleased. Why had they gone to such enormous lengths to plant Puppet Gu in him?

Chú Róng felt as if there was a thin layer of mist obscuring everything before him, making it impossible to see clearly. He had the persistent feeling that he had overlooked some crucial detail — yet without the original host's memories, he simply could not figure out what it was.

The Marquis of Anguo's household.

Ning Yuan's gaze turned cold as blades. Shards of cold light blazed from his eyes, as if everything around them was about to be frozen solid.

"Don't worry." Ning Yuan turned his palm and stored the medicine vial in his storage space. He lowered his head slightly and breathed in the sweet fragrance from the hair of the person in his arms, drawing back the killing intent from his eyes. He spread open his large hand and cradled Chú Róng's jade-white fingers, drawing them together inside his palm: "Leave everything to me."

Chú Róng pulled in his scattered thoughts and turned it over for a moment before understanding what the man meant. His gaze trembled: "You're going to find the one who planted the gu?"

"That's right." Ning Yuan didn't deny it. Even if he had to turn the entire Marquis of Anguo's household upside down, he would find whoever had done this!

"Can you take me with you?" Chú Róng raised his fair face. The matter involved the original host, and by extension himself. Something this important — he didn't want to leave entirely in another's hands.

"No." Ning Yuan's large hand tightened around Chú Róng's slender fingertips and refused outright. It had been over ten days since Chú Róng's last episode — and by the count, it would come again within the next day or two. It was safer for him to remain in Qīngxū Sect.

"I want to go." Chú Róng's lovely brow creased. His tone was insistent, and a few more wisps of orchid fragrance drifted from his person.

You could not always rely on others for everything. Some things you had to do yourself. If you always waited for someone else to handle things for you, what would happen the day that person was gone? What would happen if that person betrayed you?

In a word — his life was the most important thing. Chú Róng did not yet trust Ning Yuan. He needed to see the mother gu die with his own eyes before he could truly feel at ease.

Ning Yuan's gaze darkened slightly. His Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily. The ice in his eyes began to thaw. The hand restraining Chú Róng's waist lifted, gathering the smooth, waterfall-like black hair from the side of Chú Róng's neck. Bowing his imposing frame, he drew close to the fair, slender throat, and pressed a burning kiss against it.

Chú Róng's pupils suddenly flew wide. Only now, belatedly, did he realise how close Ning Yuan had come. His curling lashes trembled violently, and the flush of red at his eye corners deepened with a startled intensity — tightening the chest of anyone who looked.

Ning Yuan's prominent Adam's apple bobbed again, twice more. He released the cool, sleek strands of hair from his grip and took hold of Chú Róng's waist instead. His powerful frame was already poised to press forward and push the person back down onto the jade couch.

From outside the palace, a straight-backed figure came hurrying in. A man of stern and upright expression bowed with both hands clasped and greeted him respectfully: "Inner Door Steward Wū Lǐ, responding to the summons to meet with the Immortal Venerable."

During Ning Yuan's period of seclusion, the Inner Door Steward had been replaced. Wū Lǐ was the newly appointed steward, having only taken up the position for fewer than twenty years — but his abilities were formidable. Leading the disciples of the Inner Door Hall, he had the entire sect's affairs running in perfect, orderly fashion.

Ning Yuan's towering frame came to an abrupt stop. Chú Róng seized the opportunity. His jade-pale palms pressed against the man's solid, muscled chest, and with full force, pushed him away. Like someone running from floodwaters and beasts, he escaped off the jade couch.

Chú Róng still remembered Ning Yuan saying that Wangxian Peak was surrounded by a Spirit-Gathering Array and he couldn't go out at will. He ran to the farthest point from the jade couch he could reach, pressed his back against the wall, and bit his lip hard, staring at Ning Yuan with a face full of wariness.

Unfortunately, this posture of his had not the slightest intimidating force. To the contrary — his rapid, trembling breath made him look more like he was baiting someone, enough to make the head swim.

In an instant, Ning Yuan's temple veins bulged, and he very nearly couldn't breathe.

作者有話說:

久等～