After Infusing Love Poison to the Cold Sword Sovereign - Chapter 32.1

Within the demonic realm of Black Mountain.

Five towering demonic cultivators followed silently behind a woman veiled in black gauze, patiently awaiting her command.

The woman crouched on the ground, her slender wrist emerging from the wide sleeve of her robe as she pinched a pinch of black soil between her fingers. Her eyes were closed, sensing the presence within the earth.

“What is she doing?”

“You must be new. The Guardian is using her own gu insects as probes. Whether it’s spiders, centipedes, or scorpions in the soil, they all serve her. At the same time, they act as a means of control her methods are nothing to scoff at. Otherwise, how could she have risen to the rank of Eastern Guardian in such a short time after joining the sect?”

“Wasn’t her rapid promotion because of that Right Envoy who also climbed the ranks quickly? I heard.”

“Shut up! Stop talking nonsense. Don’t disturb Guardian Lan’s thoughts she’s syncing with the insects in the soil.”

“I still don’t get why you’re all so afraid of her. Tch, a mere beneficiary of connections. Just some young woman, not even that old. Screw her”

The last demonic cultivator to speak had a face full of rough features, his buckteeth jutting out. This was his first time accompanying Guardian Lan’s patrol squad, and he sneered disdainfully at the crouching woman until a sudden sharp pain shot through his leg.

“What the Ow! F*ck! AHHH!!”

The man collapsed to the ground with a thud, his legs limp as boiled noodles, utterly devoid of strength. When he tore open his pant leg, his thick thighs had already turned into rotting black-red flesh, oozing foul-smelling black blood.

A perfectly ordinary little scorpion burrowed out of the decaying flesh and crawled back into the soil, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

Before the man could scream again, the woman didn’t even turn her head but the other demonic cultivators swiftly slit his throat, grinning obsequiously at her.

“Guardian Lan, killing this trash would dirty your hands. This lowly one took care of it for you. What do you think?”

The woman flicked her wrist, and a porcelain vial landed in the man’s palm. “Take it.”

The quick-witted demonic cultivator uncorked the vial and swallowed its contents gleefully before fawning further.

“Guardian, you’ve been here for a while now. Did you find something? This lowly one will handle anything for you!”

The woman didn’t even lift her eyelids, disinterested as she dropped the pinch of black soil back to the ground.

“…Nothing. Let’s go. Disgusting.”

The red spider was gone.

Lan Ting stood up, the scorpion’s stinger sliding along her wrist and disappearing into her inner pocket. The information had already traveled through her bloodstream into her consciousness. With a haughty tilt of her chin, a sycophantic demonic cultivator dutifully brushed the dirt from her robes, restoring her to the dignified elegance befitting a Guardian of the Demonic Sect.

She absently shook her wrist but there was no silver bracelet, the kind often worn by Miao tribeswomen.

“Guardian, what brings you to Black Mountain today? Would you care to try some human-organ wine? It’s brewed from the entrails of living people delicious.”

“Shut up,” Lan Ting said coldly.

“Right.”

The demonic cultivators fell silent, their gazes fixed greedily on the woman’s back. Lan Ting could easily guess what these small-brained fools were thinking nothing more than currying favor with her, hoping to secure connections within the sect’s upper echelons.

On ordinary days, she would feign politeness, using sweet words and false sincerity to manipulate these people into serving her. But today, the message from the Black Earth made her heart skip a beat, and she could no longer focus on her ambitions in the demon realm.

Her most meticulously nurtured red spider, the most venomous of its kind, refined from a hundred poisonous creatures sealed in a jar had inexplicably vanished near the surface of Black Mountain.

This spider’s venom was so potent that if an ordinary demonic beast had accidentally ingested it, there would surely be a corpse oozing blood on the ground. Yet here, there was nothing only one possibility remained.

The creature that had devoured the spider was a giant serpent, and not just any serpent, one raised by the Miao people, a monstrous snake with even deadlier venom.

But after that brutal massacre years ago, apart from her and a few survivors like Spring Grass, there were no living Miao left in the region. Spring Grass had taken the remaining survivors and fled to the cultivation world. There couldn’t possibly be any other Miao still lingering here.

Unless,

Lan Ting clenched the small scorpion in her hand, her wrist trembling with overwhelming agitation.

Their Holy Maiden that heartless woman who had abandoned her people, watched as their village turned into hell, and stood by while the elders shed blood and tears to send out pleas for help only to hide like a coward in the immortal sects. The world believed she was dead, but Lan Ting refused to believe it!

A woman so cold-hearted, so willing to abandon her own kin, how could she die? She must be living comfortably somewhere, so that Lan Ting could direct all these years of hatred toward her!

She loathed demonic cultivators. She despised the demonic sects. But what could she do?

Spring Grass had escaped under her protection. If she hadn’t surrendered, if she hadn’t broken the pride in her knees, how could she have clung to the faint hope of reuniting with Spring Grass and survived all these years in this devouring place?

Her hands shook violently, and the little scorpion, frightened, burrowed into her pocket and went still.

“Elder Lan seems to be in high spirits today, haha, ahaha. Tell us, is there anything you need.”

“There is.” Lan Ting smiled brilliantly, so radiantly that several demonic cultivators were momentarily stunned.

“Like this.” she said. “Then, leave the rest to me.”

A full day had passed since Wu Ruo proposed to Yue Qinglan and Jiang Qingbei that they search for Luo Qingyi together.

Yue Qinglan, who had initially received the mission scroll, had a general idea of Luo Qingyi’s destination. Though the paper crane she sent to him had gone unanswered, her sense of direction was sharp, and with the aid of a treasure-seeking artifact, their path remained clear.

All three traveled by sword flight, so their speed was naturally swift. However, after flying through the night and day, they passed by a bustling market town, and Jiang Qingbei was the first to lose steam. She grabbed their sleeves and insisted on staying at the finest inn to rest.

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