Chapter Twenty-One: The Nine-Petaled Epiphyllum Can Cure Poison

Not only did Su Yun’er witness the island being leveled, but all those competing outside saw it as well. The crowd soared atop clouds to gaze into the distance, only to see that the nearby mountain peak had been sheared flat, its surface unnaturally smooth. The various sect leaders exchanged glances, yet none felt anything amiss.

Patriarch Xuanyuan had vanished, and the mountaintop was now flat. Who else could have done this, if not the patriarch himself? They could only count themselves lucky that it was the neighboring island and not the one beneath their feet that had been razed. If the main island of Huayin Island had been flattened, then the spectacle would have been truly sensational.

“Hey, Master Du Juezi, why do you look so pale? Are you ill?” Qi Chengfeng noticed the odd look on Du Juezi’s face and called out with feigned concern.

Du Juezi snapped back to himself, forcing a sheepish smile. “No, it’s nothing, only that I worry for my own patriarch.”

Xuanyuan Tunhan possessed such power—could it be that Long Yue had failed? That shouldn’t have happened; the poison was already administered. What could have gone wrong?

Qi Chengfeng and the others laughed mockingly. That monster Xuanyuan Patriarch needed no one’s concern. He should worry about the people of Huayin Island instead.

Inside the island, Su Yun’er was nearly frightened to her knees by that single blow. The person before her was unfathomably powerful; on the surface, he appeared no more than at the Qi Refining stage, but the aura and strength he radiated were like raging waves, intimidating beyond measure to even attempt probing.

Su Yun’er spoke cautiously: “Senior, no matter how angry you are, I cannot produce the antidote. This poison was crafted by my master, and now that she is dead, no one else knows how to cure it.”

Even if he killed her, she could not provide the antidote.

Xuanyuan Tunhan slapped away Ning Xianyu, who was still trying to nuzzle against his face, his inner fury undiminished by his earlier outburst. It was unthinkable for him to use a woman’s body for such acts, even more inconceivable to allow his own body to be entangled with any woman. The very thought sickened him.

Grabbing Ning Xianyu, he watched her continue to writhe, her mind lost, the system’s incessant clamoring to no avail, which only vexed him further. Such weak will, yet she dared to entertain such delusions—truly absurd.

Su Yun’er looked helplessly at Yi Tianling. What now? Though her master was dealt with, an even greater problem remained.

One wrong move and Huayin Island would be doomed. Just where did you find such a helper?

Yi Tianling was equally conflicted, and seeing Su Yun’er’s troubled, pleading gaze, he hesitated visibly.

Xuanyuan Tunhan suddenly stood up. “Where did Long Yue cultivate?” If he searched carefully, perhaps he could find a way to counteract the poison.

But Yi Tianling stepped forward, taking a pouch from his robe. “There’s no need, Senior. Here, take this.”

Xuanyuan Tunhan was taken aback, glancing over in surprise. Su Yun’er covered her mouth in astonishment. “Senior Brother Yi, you…”

Yi Tianling handed over the pouch. “Inside is the Nine-Petal Ephemeral. It can calm inner demons and purify the soul. If you take it, I believe it will surely cure the poison, Senior Xuanyuan.”

Su Yun’er protested, “But the Nine-Petal Ephemeral is extremely important to you, Senior Brother Yi…”

Yi Tianling simply placed the pouch on the table. “It’s nothing. We can always find another way.” With that, he clasped his hands in farewell and withdrew outside.

Su Yun’er sighed. “Senior, this is indeed the genuine Nine-Petal Ephemeral, and it can truly neutralize the Passion Flower Poison. I have other matters to attend to and will take my leave. Please use this place to rest as you wish.” She, too, left.

Once only Xuanyuan Tunhan and Ning Xianyu remained, he opened the pouch. Inside was a crystal-clear fruit. Looking closely, one could see the faint outline of nine petals, still closed, enveloping the treasure within.

As the pouch opened, a fragrance spread, cool and refreshing, piercing straight to the heart and soothing the soul.

In that moment, Xuanyuan Tunhan felt a peace he hadn’t known for many years. Even the raging fire within his spiritual consciousness seemed to quiet. This was the sacred object he had sought for so long—at last, he had found it, just as it bloomed. He had never expected to obtain the Nine-Petal Ephemeral under such circumstances, nor so easily.

Beside him, Ning Xianyu stirred, inching toward the Nine-Petal Ephemeral. “Ah, this feels wonderful!” She, too, sensed the calming aura, the heat in her body subsiding, making her crave more of that cooling presence.

With a wave of his hand, Xuanyuan Tunhan swept the Nine-Petal Ephemeral into his storage pouch. Unable to find the fragrance, Ning Xianyu restlessly squirmed, butted into him, and then contentedly sighed.

“Beauty, I want to have lots and lots of babies with you. Don’t worry, I’ll treat you well. I’ll let you have the first bite of every strawberry, and the last piece of grilled beef tendon is all yours.”

What nonsense was this?

As expected, using the sealing technique on his own body was far less effective; it had worn off so quickly, giving this woman another opportunity to speak.

Xuanyuan Tunhan held the Nine-Petal Ephemeral but did not give it to Ning Xianyu. His soul and body were separated; even if his body took the Nine-Petal Ephemeral now, it would do nothing. His inner demons still lingered. Since he now possessed the Ephemeral, he might as well imprison Ning Xianyu for a month. When her so-called one-month deadline expired, he could retrieve his body and take the Ephemeral himself. By then, his long-cherished wish would be fulfilled, and he’d need no longer fear the impending tribulation.

Once again, Ning Xianyu wriggled toward him, muttering incoherently. “Beauty, you look just like me. Listen, if you ever meet another beauty who looks just like you, run fast—she’s a real demon.”

Wham! Xuanyuan Tunhan shoved her aside, sending her crashing into the wall. This woman, addled as she was, still found ways to slander him behind his back.

Utterly ignorant of her own peril.

The system was practically panicked, endlessly warning her to stop talking, but in her current state of mindlessness, how could she possibly hear it?

“But you don’t need to be afraid. Do me a favor and tell him: someone’s out to get him. He should be careful.”

Having said this, Ning Xianyu smiled, a look of relief on her face, but she soon crawled back, clinging to him again.

Xuanyuan Tunhan raised his hand and brushed her away once more, this time sending her tumbling onto a soft couch.

With such feeble willpower, could she really last a month?

What trouble.

After a night passed, Ning Xianyu opened her eyes, glancing up at the canopy above, then around herself.

Whose boudoir was this?

The furnishings were elegant and pleasing to the eye.

She tried to sit up, only to find her entire body aching as if she had been trampled or beaten. Rubbing her head, she felt a dull pain and, in her mind, fragments of rather unhealthy images flickered.

What on earth had happened?

“Aaaaah! Where are my clothes?”