For You

Mo Lanyi was accompanied by two individuals. One was Wu Neng, the Nascent Soul patriarch of the Wu family, and the other was a young man with a clear and handsome visage, bearing a faint resemblance to her. Ji Wushuang speculated that this person might share a bloodline with her.

As for Zhuyan... Was that the child's name?It sounded rather pleasant.

With a soft laugh, Mo Lanyi asked, "Zhuyan, how are you feeling today?"

Zhuyan's jet-black eyes stared at her unblinkingly. After a long pause, he finally spoke. "You're a liar."

Mo Lanyi's smile froze. "I... I didn't lie to you."

"You are a liar," he insisted with childlike certainty. "You lied to me."

His gaze was pure and guileless, his words simple and naive. It was evident that he was as innocent as a blank sheet of paper.

Wu Neng sneered coldly. "This is the one you claimed could enhance my aptitude? This person is clearly an idiot!"

Zhuyan frowned slightly, his delicate brows knitting together. "I am not an idiot."

Mo Lanyi laughed awkwardly and leaned closer to Zhuyan, coaxing him in a soft voice as if pacifying a child. "Zhuyan, give me a little more of your blood, will you? I promise, this will be the last time!"

Zhuyan shook his head. "I won't give it to you. You're a liar."

Mo Lanyi: "..."

Seeing her humbled demeanor, Wu Neng grew impatient. "Why waste words with him? If it's his blood you need, just take it!"

Without waiting, he stepped forward to act. Mo Lanyi tried to intervene, but it was too late.

The moment Wu Neng grabbed the boy's wrist, a mysterious force erupted, spreading rapidly from his palm. It bloomed like a sinister, resplendent flower, only to wither just as swiftly.

Along with it, Wu Neng's hand began to decay.

Flesh and blood silently dissolved, leaving bare bones that crumbled into fragments, finally dripping to the ground as putrid liquid.

Zhuyan's dark eyes remained tranquil, devoid of any ripple, as calm as ever.

"Ahhh! My hand!"

Wu Neng's terrified screams echoed.

"What... What is happening?!"

"My hand! My hand!"

Mo Lanyi's scalp tingled. She shouted urgently, "Quick! Cut off your arm!"

"What?!" Wu Neng's fury surged. He wanted to throttle her on the spot.

"If you don't, your entire body will dissolve into rot! What's more important, your arm or your life?"

Though his head buzzed with dread, Wu Neng gritted his teeth and drew a sword from his spatial ring, decisively severing his arm.

Mo Lanyi quickly stepped forward, using light-attribute spiritual energy to staunch the bleeding and administering the Water of Life.

The spread of decay finally ceased, but the faint scent of blood lingering in the air testified to the reality of what had transpired.

After stopping the bleeding, Wu Neng not only refrained from expressing gratitude but also raised his hand to strike Mo Lanyi's head.

His intent was clear: to crush her into a bloody pulp.

This despicable woman had deceived him time and again!

If he didn't kill her—no, if he didn't annihilate her entire clan—his wrath would never be quelled!

But fate had other plans.

Whether by foresight or instinct, Mo Lanyi suddenly ducked, grabbing Wu Neng's half-corroded arm and flinging it at his face.

The putrid liquid splattered directly into Wu Neng's nostrils.

"Ahhh..."

Wu Neng clutched his throat, his agonized howls echoing like the death cries of a beast.

The corrosive liquid infiltrated his body, spreading through his veins, dissolving skin, blood vessels, muscles, and even bones inch by inch.

His body twisted grotesquely, his fingers curling tightly. The pain was so excruciating that he forgot he could self-detonate and obliterate the entire Mo family.

From afar, his distorted figure resembled a crimson flower blooming on the banks of the Yellow Springs.

A bloom that heralded inevitable decay.

When Wu Neng finally dissolved into a puddle of rot, the liquid transformed into harmless clear water, as innocuous as the rain outside.

Mo Chen stared at the scene before him, his voice trembling. "Lanyi, did you... Did you kill Wu Neng?!"

Mo Lanyi, pale and panting, shook her head. "Father, Wu Neng? We don't know where he went. How could the two of us—a Nascent Soul and a Foundation Establishment cultivator—possibly kill a Soul Formation ancestor? Isn't that right?"

Her innocent smile sent a chill down Mo Chen's spine. Yet her next words rekindled his joy.

"Father, once I've sorted through Wu Neng's belongings, I'll donate everything to the Mo family."

Yes!

This was Wu Neng, a Soul Formation ancestor. His treasures could undoubtedly elevate the Mo family to new heights!

Mo Chen's laughter was hearty as he patted Mo Lanyi's head. "Good girl. But what about the boy? He's too dangerous. Should we really keep him in the Mo family?"

Mo Lanyi's expression turned serious. "Father, Zhuyan is a treasure. His blood can enhance potential—you know this as well."

Mo Chen was stunned. "So it's because of him?"

"Exactly," Mo Lanyi confirmed.

Years ago, Mo Chen's cultivation had stagnated at Foundation Establishment, no matter how hard he tried. Then, with the help of the "spiritual spring water" Mo Lanyi gave him, he broke through to Nascent Soul, leading to the Mo family's rise.

And now he realized it was all due to this boy's blood?!

Mo Lanyi continued, "If my guess is correct, even the celestial phenomenon over Tianlin is because of him. We must keep him."

"But he said you lied to him?"

Mo Lanyi shouted indignantly, "I didn't lie! He approached me!"

She recounted the encounter from eleven years ago when she found the boy wandering in a forest. Beasts that dared attack him all turned into rot. Terrified, she tried to flee, but he floated before her and asked, "Is it you?"

Driven by instinct, she answered "Yes," fearing that a denial would lead to her demise.

To her astonishment, he offered her a drop of his blood.

That single drop of blood, though unassuming, contained immense power. At her master's urging, she accepted it, using it to reshape her spiritual roots and rise above her peers.

Since then, she kept the boy secluded in the Mo family, shielding him with restrictions and periodically requesting his blood. Each time, he grew weaker, eventually confined to a wheelchair.

Her thoughts snapped back to the present as she handed Zhuyan a vibrant seven-colored flower. "This is the Seven-Colored Soul Brocade. I hope you like it."

Zhuyan remained silent, gazing at the ground. After a moment, he wheeled himself to an inner room and knocked politely.

Ji Wushuang found it amusing—this was his home, yet he knocked?

Opening the door, she was greeted by the boy's delicate, otherworldly face. His eyes sparkled with sincerity as he held out the flower.

"For you," he said softly.