Chapter 14 - The Shattered Balance

Outside, where Lei Wen and Lin Qian waited in tense silence, a middle-aged man approached from down the narrow street. His steps slowed as he caught sight of the two strangers standing before his home. His eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Who are you?" he demanded, his tone edged with wariness.

Lei Wen turned to face him, his expression calm but alert. "Do you live here? May I know your relation to the woman inside?"

The man's suspicion deepened. His gaze darted between them, lingering on their clean robes that starkly contrasted with the filth of the slums. "I asked you first," he shot back, voice growing louder. "Who are you? What do you want with my daughter?"

Without waiting for an answer, he dropped the bundle he was carrying and rushed toward the entrance. "Leave her alone! Leave her alone, you animals!"

Lei Wen swiftly moved to block him, grasping the man's arm. "Sir, please calm down," he said firmly. "Your daughter's life is in danger. We're doctors, and we're here to help. One of us is inside treating her."

The man struggled against Lei Wen's hold, his face twisted with panic. "If you're a doctor, then why are you out here instead of helping your friend? You must be standing here to keep people away while your so-called friend does something terrible to her! Let me go! Leave her alone!"

Lin Qian stepped forward, her gaze steady. "Sir, we understand your fear, but please—if you go inside now, you could put her at even greater risk. Let him work. We will explain everything later. For now, please let us help."

The man's frantic movements slowed, confusion and desperation mixing in his expression. His eyes darted between their sincere faces before he finally sagged, his shoulders dropping. "I... just don't want to lose her... She's all I have."

There were sounds of movement inside the house. All three heads turned toward the source. Moments later, Xuan Tian appeared in the doorway, his breathing steady but the faint sheen of sweat on his forehead betraying the effort he had just exerted. "It's alright now," he said, his voice calm but slightly fatigued. "You can come in."

The man moved first, darting past the doctors and into the house. Inside, he found his daughter lying on a poor excuse of a bed, her face peaceful and her breathing steady. Relief flooded his features as he knelt beside her, gently brushing hair from her face. A shaky sigh escaped him.

Turning around, he dropped to his knees before Xuan Tian, bowing low. "Thank you! Thank you! I don't know how to thank you enough!"

Xuan Tian took a small step back and gestured for the man to rise. "Please, sir, there's no need. We do have some questions, though." He turned his gaze to Lei Wen and Lin Qian, giving them a subtle nod to take over the conversation.

Lei Wen stepped forward, his voice calm yet firm. "Do you know what happened to your daughter? Please explain everything."

The man nodded, wiping at his face with trembling fingers. "About three days ago... she suddenly woke up screaming. It wouldn't stop—just endless, agonizing screams. She was in so much pain... she couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but curl up and cry." His voice cracked, memories surfacing painfully. "It went on for almost a full day. Then... it seemed like the pain subsided. She calmed down enough to talk to me—said it still hurt but not as much."

He paused, swallowing hard. "But then... then she started burning up with fever. Her temperature just kept rising, no matter what I did. And last night... she collapsed. She wouldn't wake up. I—I was out trying to find help when I saw you."

Lei Wen nodded, processing the timeline. He exchanged a glance with Lin Qian, then asked, "Before the screaming started... had she been near or around Xue Qin Lou?"

The man's brows furrowed at the mention of the name, confusion flickering across his face. "Xue Qin Lou? Well, yes. She's working there. Well, kind of. She's working as a maid to one of the ladies there. Only started this month. She was very happy when she got hired. It means income for us."

The three exchanged glances. Another Xue Qin Lou connection.

The man asked urgently, "Is my daughter okay? What's wrong with her?"

All three turned to Xuan Tian. His expression remained calm, though the exhaustion in his eyes was evident. "She's stable for now," he said. "But she must find a cultivation teacher to guide her. Without proper guidance, her condition could worsen."

The man blinked in confusion, struggling to process the words. "A cultivation teacher? What—Why? I don't understand!"

Lei Wen stepped in gently, his tone steady but laced with seriousness. "Her body has formed an Immortal Core—something that shouldn't happen without cultivation. Without someone to help her control it, the core could destabilize again. If that happens, it won't just harm her... it could endanger everyone around her."

The man's mouth opened, but no words came out—just a mixture of relief, fear, and overwhelming confusion. "Immortal Core – How can she had a core? She always wanted it, but when we checked, she did not have the innate talent that required for cultivation."

Lei Wen remained calm, his tone even. "We don't know how it happened. That's why we're here."

Lin Qian stepped forward, reminding them, "There's still another unstable Immortal Aura. We should check it out before it's too late."

Xuan Tian nodded. "Agreed."

They turned to leave, but Xuan Tian paused just long enough to tell the father, "We'll return to ask a few more questions."

They found the second unstable aura in a tent not far from the house. Inside sat a middle-aged woman on the floor, knees tucked beneath her, her body eerily still except for her hand dragging a charred piece of wood across the dirt. The dark lines stood out in stark contrast to the dusty floor, each letter oddly precise despite the crude tool.

It was the kind of message that should've been messy, rushed—but it wasn't. Her movements were slow, deliberate. Too deliberate. Like someone following instructions only she could hear.

At first glance, the scene might have passed as strange. But then there were her eyes. Entirely white—no pupil, no iris. Just blank, polished orbs reflecting the faint light seeping through the worn fabric of the tent. A chill ran through the air, heavy and wrong.

Lin Qian's brows furrowed. "How... is she even writing?"

Her gaze wasn't on the letters. In fact, she wasn't looking at anything. Her eyes remained fixed ahead—empty, unfocused—yet her hand continued, dragging the charcoal across the ground with unwavering precision. The scratchy sound echoed in the confined space, each stroke amplifying the unnaturalness of it all.

Xuan Tian's expression darkened. She's being controlled.

Lin Qian knelt beside the message, reading it aloud. "I am going to cultivate. Do not search for me." Her voice lowered, unsettled. "It's like a farewell note."

The woman's hand stilled, hovering above the dirt as if waiting for another command. The silence that followed was suffocating.

Lin Qian reached out, pressing two fingers to the woman's wrist. Her brows knit tighter. "Her Immortal Core is fully formed... and stabilizing." She glanced at Xuan Tian, her voice grim. "She is officially an Immortal."

All of them felt it—the same unsettling mix of confusion, alarm, and growing dread. How was this happening? None of it made sense, and yet the evidence was right in front of them, impossible to deny. Worse still was the danger it presented. Spontaneously formed Immortal Cores weren't just unnatural—they were volatile. Normally, cultivating an Immortal Core required careful guidance from a teacher to stabilize it; without proper instruction, the core could spiral out of control. An unstable core wasn't just a danger to the cultivator—it was a ticking bomb capable of annihilating everything in its vicinity. If it exploded, it wouldn't just kill the host—it could level the entire city, erasing buildings, streets, and everyone unfortunate enough to be nearby.

Having victims like this scattered around Baishan City was like planting time bombs, each one primed to detonate at any moment. The urgency clawed at them, heavier and more suffocating than ever.