After Infusing Love Poison to the Cold Sword Sovereign - Chapter 68.1

A few moments later, Wu Ruo held the unconscious Luo Qingyi in her arms.

The surrounding dark energy gradually dissipated; Luo Qingyi’s inner demons had been temporarily suppressed. In her embrace, Luo Qingyi’s sleeping face was serene.

Only the steady pulse silently conveyed one thing: the love gu had taken effect.

Holding Luo Qingyi steady, Wu Ruo saw Du Chuncao and Jiang Qingbei approaching. The latter, contrary to her usual arrogance, kept her head down and remained silent.

It was Du Chuncao who broke the silence: “She was injured in the fight with the Qingtiao Pao, but it’s not serious. I’ve already treated her wounds, and she’ll recover fully in a few days.”

“Who said I was injured!” Jiang Qingbei retorted stubbornly. “Hmph, I alone could take on a million demonic cultivators, this measly little pao is nothing!”

Seeing the pampered young mistress still acting like her usual self, Wu Ruo felt relieved. If she could still talk back, it meant nothing major had happened.

For some reason, during the fight with Jiang Qingbei, the Qingtiao Pao had become unusually frenzied, roaring so loudly it shook the heavens. Its speed and strength had increased severalfold, as if its bloodlust had been fully unleashed, sending chills down one’s spine.

Wu Ruo had been genuinely worried for Jiang Qingbei, but with Luo Qingyi in a worse state, she hadn’t had the capacity to pay attention to the younger Jiang’s battle.

Wu Ruo shot Du Chuncao a look, signaling her to look after Jiang Qingbei. Understanding the hint, Du Chuncao ignored Jiang Qingbei’s prideful remarks and simply humored her: “Mm-hmm, just some superficial wounds. For someone like Immortal Jiang, it’s a trivial matter.”

Jiang Qingbei was quickly appeased, squinting her eyes with a silly grin. Her gaze swept over Wu Ruo before settling on Luo Qingyi. “Wu Ruo, what happened to my shijie?”

“Her inner demons acted up. I’ve temporarily suppressed them. She’s just asleep for now and will be fine,” Wu Ruo replied.

She hadn’t told the full truth.

Luo Qingyi had always been a reliable pillar of strength in everyone’s eyes, an omnipotent presence to her junior sisters. With Jiang Qingbei, Du Chuncao, and the others all injured, she couldn’t let them worry. Luo Qingyi wouldn’t want this matter to be made public either.

Moreover, walls have ears. They were in the demon realm, and though the possessed Right Emissary was on the brink of death, he was still alive. If he discovered Luo Qingyi’s true condition and schemed against them, it would only lead to unnecessary complications.

“Oh, that’s good then,” Jiang Qingbei said, relieved. “Let’s go then. Where are you headed? I’ve scouted several mountain ranges across the Five Continents, all of them are perfect for you to establish a sect. Weren’t you planning to rebuild your homeland? I’ve already looked into the locations!”

Ah, Jiang Qingbei was even more invested in this than she was.

“Rebuild Miaojiang? That’s wonderful!!” Du Chuncao’s eyes lit up at the news. “I, although I’m a member of the Xinglin Sect, my shifu would probably allow me to take a position in the new sect. She often says that healers know no sect boundaries as long as we carry on the legacy and spread it far and wide, we honor her teachings. I’ll go back and seek her permission to leave the sect!”

Lan Ting had woken up at some point and, seeing everyone outside, slowly emerged from the temple gate. Demonic cultivators had remarkable recovery abilities, the bloody hole in her chest, clawed out by the Right Emissary, had already regrown flesh. Beneath a thin layer of skin, one could see crimson blood vessels pulsing within.

It looked gruesome and terrifying, enough to frighten anyone who glimpsed it, but in reality, her injuries were healing.

Since being pushed into the Blood Gu Pool by the Right Envoy and forced to become a demonic cultivator, she had experienced its benefits for the first time.

Chuncao was the first to notice her and rushed over to check her injuries. “Lanting! Are you feeling better now?”

“I’m much better now, Chuncao. I’m fine.” She wasn’t forcing a smile, she truly was recovering. The Blood Gu Pool could destroy a cultivator’s meridians, but it also tempered the bones and marrow, increasing vitality and recovery abilities severalfold compared to ordinary cultivators.

As long as she woke from a fatal injury, she could fully recover.

Lanting turned her head and saw the only unfamiliar face. “This must be Immortal Lord Jiang Qingbei of the Zhiyuan Immortal Sect. Thank you for your assistance. I am deeply grateful.”

Over the years, she had endured humiliation under the Right Envoy, traveled across the cultivation world, and encountered many renowned righteous cultivators. She had even crossed paths with Jiang Qingbei, who loved to wander though, of course, it was as an unrepentant demonic cultivator, and they had fought.

Recognized by Lanting and subtly flattered, Jiang Qingbei had long since set aside her prejudice against demonic cultivators. She was inwardly delighted but insisted on putting up a tough front. “Hmph, at least you have good taste. It seems demonic cultivators aren’t all irredeemably evil. Fine, come with us. I’ll take you under my wing.”

Seeing the group getting along harmoniously, Wu Ruo called Chuncao to help Luo Qingyi regulate her meridians and returned to the red temple where they had been earlier.

The courtyard remained desolate, with the puppet standing lifelessly to the side. This puppet had been there from the very beginning, even before Dongling Jiu went mad and turned the red temple into a prison to confine Wu Juncheng’s soul. It had long been broken.

Perhaps Wu Juncheng had repaired the puppet and infused it with vitality out of sheer loneliness.

When she pushed open the temple door, she encountered no resistance. After Wu Juncheng passed his lifelong cultivation to her, the red temple had lost its function of exchanging fortunes and had become nothing more than an ordinary, dilapidated shelter for travelers.

It was the refuge where she had escaped the Right Envoy’s pursuit, and at the same time, it was a tombstone that should not have existed here.

“Senior,” she called softly in her heart.

She was not pulled into the dark space, but she could hear his voice in her ear. “Good child.”

“Senior, I will break the prison for you. Will your three souls reunite?”

“I don’t know,” Wu Juncheng chuckled softly in her ear. “Let me tell you a secret. What you’ve seen are my earthly soul and life soul. As for my heavenly soul, it may have long since scattered across the mortal realm.”

He whispered something into Wu Ruo’s ear, and her gaze grew resolute. Summoning her lifebound sword, she walked toward the towering statue in the main hall.

Only then did she realize that, during her two visits to the main hall, she had knelt on the prayer mat and seen the statue’s imposing figure but had never noticed its specific features.

Or perhaps the face of the statue enshrined in the hall had always been indistinct.

She stood once again before the main hall, not kneeling devoutly on the prayer mat like a supplicant but gazing intently and resolutely at the dozens-of-feet-tall bronze statue, its robes fluttering as if stirred by an unfelt wind.

Finally, she saw the statue’s face clearly. It looked down at her with kindness, its expression carrying a hint of aged weariness, yet its features remained youthful and exquisitely beautiful clearly the lovely face of a young woman.

The bronze statue with the indistinct face turned out to have been created by Dongling Jiu after losing his beloved. He shattered the original bronze statue of the Red Temple, cast it into a boiling smelting furnace, crushed and refined it inch by inch, then meticulously carved it anew into the form of the person who haunted his dreams.

The Demon Lord wished for the world to offer vitality, fate, and souls in worship to his beloved, yet he did not want them to bear the calamities brought by such karma. Thus, he blurred the statue’s face, leaving only the broad robes and an enigmatic silhouette.

So, the deity she had once worshipped was actually her own ancestor.

Wu Ruo walked up to the bronze statue. Her figure appeared exceptionally small beneath the towering statue, reaching only as high as its knees.

“Senior, forgive my disrespect.”

She bowed one last time to the statue before her, then leaped into the air. Spiritual energy gathered at the tip of her sword, coalescing into a radiant, shimmering mass.

The sword’s edge carried a momentum that tore through the air urgent and imposing as it struck fiercely at the statue’s chest.

Boom!

Amid the crashing sound of the colossal object hitting the ground and the rustling collapse of fragments, Wu Ruo slowly descended back to the ground without looking back.

The moment she swung her sword, the surrounding courtyard walls and tiles seemed to have their skeletons ripped out, collapsing in a weary, thunderous heap.

Gravel, old wood, candle stands, offering tables, and even the towering pillars of the Red Temple, along with the roof tiles and mud, all fell to the ground in that instant like rain, producing dull, thunderous noises.

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