Chapter 74

Song Qingshi immersed himself in the intense study of the Black Death Butterflies, working late into the night and sleeping only an hour or two. Concerned for Song Qingshi's spiritual core, Yue Wuhuan put aside other matters to focus on the projects Song had entrusted to him, ceaselessly creating poison effigies and various deadly toxins while planning for future seclusion.

The two were caught in a whirlwind of activity for several days.

Finally, Yue Wuhuan received the Lingyin Biyue Robe, a high-tier artifact garment urgently modified by the Heavenly Works Pavilion. He promptly presented it to Song Qingshi.

Crafted with 1.8 million superior-grade spirit stones, made from golden silkworm threads and moon spider silk, this robe was fire and water-resistant and impenetrable to weapons. It also possessed stealth capabilities and additional magical protections and defensive arrays. The icy-blue fabric shimmered subtly with golden threads. Its only downside was its exorbitant price.

Song Qingshi immediately tried it on, familiarizing himself with its functions, and was thoroughly pleased.

Song Qingshi also stored the poison effigies and Black Death Butterflies Yue Wuhuan had made into his mustard seed bag. After hesitating for a moment, he asked, "Any news from Xi Lin?"

Song had deliberately avoided asking about the outside world to keep from upsetting Yue Wuhuan. But some matters were well understood and needed to be faced. Yue Wuhuan had wounded An Long and exposed him as a half-demon; they needed to be on guard against the unpredictable reactions from the Man Gu Sect.

Yue Wuhuan replied, "An Long has been exposed as a half-demon and has yet to return to Xi Lin. Man Gu Sect has revoked his leadership, plunging the sect into chaos as various factions of elders engage in infighting."

An Long had been unable to control the demonic blood within him when he left, revealing his true nature.

The cultivation world was enraged, issuing a kill-on-sight order, though no one has been able to locate him.

Yue Wuhuan, not entirely at ease, secretly posted a million-spirit-stone bounty on An Long through Ye Yu Pavilion and various assassin networks, soliciting experts from all over to end him.

An Long had gone from a lofty Primordial Spirit Elder to a pariah on the run. Stripped of Xi Lin's resources, he no longer posed a substantial threat to Yao Wang Valley. Even if he was alive, Yue Wuhuan's newly arranged poison fog arrays, in conjunction with Song Qingshi's dark fire, would repel any invasion, and they always had an emergency escape route.

Yue Wuhuan thought for a moment and added, "The information from Xi Lin has stopped coming in lately."

Song Qingshi immediately asked, "When did it stop?"

Yue Wuhuan answered, "Eight days ago."

Song Qingshi paused for a moment before nonchalantly saying, "Keep an eye on the intel; I'm going back to the lab."

Yue Wuhuan watched Song Qingshi's retreating figure, a vague sense of unease settling in his heart.

　...

Thunder lit up the sky, roaring in fury as torrential rain prepared to pour down.

Song Qingshi finished preparing the final petri dish and walked to the window. He gazed at the somber, overcast sky, his palm glowing faintly with golden light. These shreds of merit, despite being minuscule, merged seamlessly with his soul. They not only let him glimpse the Phoenix but also covertly revealed to him fragments of cosmic fate.

A scientist needs rationality and evidence.

He had pondered for many days, questioning various things—the true identity of his mentor, the mysterious tasks given by the system, the meaning behind the cosmic fate, and the final outcome.

One thing was certain: Yue Wuhuan was the Phoenix in the dream. The 'coincidences' that happened to him were not true coincidences at all. For some reason, the Cosmic Order seemed to despise him, yet couldn't directly inflict death. Instead, it manipulated his destiny, twisting his trials and challenges, ruining his happiness, and driving him to despair—transforming him into a madman and paving his way to destruction.

Time was of the essence; every day felt like an unknown crisis was drawing closer.

He dared not speak of it; otherwise, the Cosmic Order would detect him, erase him forcefully, and alter his fate, accelerating the impending tragedy.

Through his research on the Black Death Butterflies and cues from the Blood King Vine, he subtly sowed one seed after another...

He had to give his all to gain a sliver of hope for the future.

The moment the information from Xi Lin was cut off, he immediately realized that the executioner's blade of destiny was fast descending.

　...

The Man Gu Sect was strewn with rotting corpses and blood stains; gu insects and toxins had long since gone out of control, wandering everywhere.

The hideous half-demon crawled through the pile of corpses, its body covered with black scales. The spines on its back were soaked in blood, and its long scorpion tail frenziedly tore at the chunks of flesh on the ground. Devoid of reason or emotion, it sought relief only through killing. Panting and hissing, it struggled madly. As everything was destroyed, a trace of humanity began to return to one of its eyes. It became aware of the terrible deeds it had committed, trying to resist, yet the voices in its mind continued to pull it deeper into the vortex of slaughter.

"His Daoist heart of ruthlessness is already shattered."

"He is going to form a spiritual union."

"The heart and the person you could never have now belong to someone else."

"Status, dignity, feelings... you've lost it all."

"Destroy it all—obliterate everything that brings you pain."

　"..."

"Shut up! My heart of merciless Dao won't be shattered," An Long desperately clutched at his head, trying to expel the voice inside. "You're not my hallucination; all these things you're talking about... I don't know them and I don't want to!" The nightmarish voice adhered to him like a persistent infection, daily detailing to him the happenings in Yao Wang Valley—things he didn't want to hear—feeding his violent desires, bringing him pain and confusion, driving him increasingly insane.

The urge for killing and destruction swelled until it exceeded the capacity of the Love-Sealing Gu, annihilating it.

Upon the Gu's death, it backfired upon itself.

All the emotions that were once absorbed by the Love-Sealing Gu surged back, ripping open the lone vulnerability in his heart, continuously stimulating the demonic blood within him, making him lose control and estrange himself. People looked at his body with eyes filled with terror and disdain, calling him a "monster," a term that fueled his anger, driving him further insane and completely consumed by the demonic blood. When he woke up, his hands were soaked in fresh blood, and no living being remained in sight.

"I am not a monster."

His body grew increasingly terrifying, his logical rationality slipping away, and his moments of lucidity shortening. The sinister voice that claimed to be destiny continued to strip him of his human emotions, attempting to turn him into a demonic creature, to make him fall into a dark world and become a puppet under control.

He had nowhere to flee...

"You need neither pity nor emotions; you were born as a weapon of slaughter. Battlefields and blood are your true loves."

"You know the only way to escape this pain."

"Go, kill them, destroy the root of your inner demons."

"Go, for it is your destiny."

　...

Deep into the night, Yue Wuhuan was engrossed in creating poison dolls in his personal lab. He was trying to make improvements, installing even more deadly mechanisms, turning the poison dolls into the most terrifying puppetry artifacts in the cultivation world, and making Yao Wang Valley a place where no one dared set foot. The more he pondered, the more ideas he had...

Suddenly, the lab's main door burst open.

Song Qingshi charged in exuberantly, "Wuhuan, I've succeeded!"

Yue Wuhuan smiled and asked, "The Black Death Butterfly?"

Song Qingshi handed him a crystal culture dish containing a red pupa, resembling a tiny ember, emanating a faint heat.

Black Death Butterflies in the past should have black pupae.

Yue Wuhuan accepted the crystal dish containing the small ember-like pupa, marveling, "Its metamorphosis is truly beautiful."

"Once released, it will become a butterfly of fiery red hue. It can either disperse paralyzing, fatal powder indiscriminately or attack a marked organism directly, injecting all its venom into the bloodstream, instantly controlling the nerves and spreading throughout the body. I estimate the venom's potency is eight times stronger than before. By data extrapolation, it should be effective against most Soul-Parting cultivators. It's a pity we lack test subjects," Song Qingshi regretfully chuckled, "there's no way to capture a Soul-Parting cultivator for testing."

Yue Wuhuan smiled, "We'll have test subjects eventually. I feel it should no longer be called the 'Black Death Butterfly.' We should rename it to distinguish it from the original."

"Let's call it Nirvana," Song Qingshi looked at him and quickly said, "This butterfly was born out of intense fire and pain. You can use it to annihilate whatever has harmed you, whatever that might be..."

"Nirvana?" Yue Wuhuan relished the word, quite taken with it. He hoped to use this butterfly of vengeance to incinerate all those loathsome creatures. "Only by destroying everything can there be rebirth."

Lately, he'd been trying to voice all his inner thoughts, to identify which were pathological. Fortunately, Song Qingshi either approved of or tolerated most of his ideas, including his intense desire for emotional control and his bedchamber fantasies, considering them normal interests rather than perversions.

This eased a great weight off his chest.

"Not everyone in this world deserves to die," Song Qingshi suggested an amendment to his homicidal thoughts. "I hope you can draw a line in your heart. You can set the standard yourself, but once set, don't change it arbitrarily."

Yue Wuhuan didn't quite understand.

Song Qingshi asked, "Do Qing Luan, Ming Hong, Nian Nian, Yan Yuan Xian Jun, the girl with the surname Lan who reads storybooks, and Ye Lin Xian Jun—who knows about the album—deserve to die?"

Yue Wuhuan was very conflicted. He felt many people had reasons to be killed but wasn't sure if he should or could kill them, especially if Qingshi disliked it or forbade it.

Song Qingshi implored, "Yao Wang Valley specializes in researching various elixirs and medical techniques. If you kill everyone, where would all this research be applied?"

"Qingshi is becoming quite the joker," Yue Wuhuan couldn't help but laugh. "I'm only contemplating it; it's not like I could kill everyone under the heavens."

Song Qingshi was resolute, "Promise me, even in a world bathed in blood and mountains of corpses, you will reserve some tolerance to let the less deserving live, to change the world…"

He didn't finish the rest of his sentence for some reason.

Yue Wuhuan casually agreed, "Fine, as you wish."

Song Qingshi seemed quite pleased and engaged in many more joyful activities with him.

Now, as Yue Wuhuan looked at the red Nirvana Butterfly in his hand, he realized Song Qingshi was serious. He approved of his thirst for killing, of his desire to exterminate villains and eradicate all evil, and this made him feel a certain sweetness inside.

Unfortunately, these things couldn't be rushed. First, he'd have to wait for Song Qingshi's Yuan Ying (Primordial Spirit) to be fully restored and for himself to break through the meridian restrictions to form his Golden Core. Then they could slowly plan, seize opportunities bit by bit, and eliminate all those revolting individuals.

Song Qingshi smiled, "This is the first Nirvana Butterfly I've created. I hope it can protect you... from all dangers."

Yue Wuhuan asked, "What about you?"

Song Qingshi patted his exquisite robe, "I have this."

Suddenly, a messenger bird arrived, carrying a letter from Ye Lin Xian Jun. Song Qingshi opened it, his expression gradually turning solemn. He passed the letter to Yue Wuhuan, "The Huang Quan Tan Hua (Yellow Springs Tuberose) is about to bloom; I need this herb."

The long-standing reputation of Yao Wang Valley for purchasing various herbs has been sterling, so Ye Yu Pavilion readily sells similar intelligence to them.

The Huang Quan Tan Hua is a flower that blooms once every fifty years, solely within the secluded realm of You Ming. It withers just two hours after blossoming and must be harvested on the spot to be transformed into a medicinal herb. However, the realm is protected by a barrier that only cultivators with a Golden Core or above can enter. Since there are few alchemists with such cultivation levels, the risk of gathering this flower is relatively low.

Yue Wuhuan knows that the elixir crafted from Huang Quan Tan Hua would significantly benefit Song Qingshi's injured Yuan Ying. He should support the harvesting mission, but he can't enter the You Ming realm. The thought of Song Qingshi leaving him fills him with anxiety, as he fears losing this hard-won happiness.

"Wuhuan, I will come back," Song Qingshi says, his voice steady.

His resolute tone brings immeasurable comfort.

Yue Wuhuan softly asks, "Is wanting to keep you locked away... pathological?"

Song Qingshi offers no answer.

Understanding, Yue Wuhuan closes his eyes, steadying his breath and emotions. "Go, then."

"Trust me," Song Qingshi stands on his toes to kiss his lips, making a sincere promise, "No matter what happens, I will come back to you. Wait for me to return so we can become Dao partners."

Yue Wuhuan gently nods, "Alright."

"Wuhuan, while I'm gone, you must continue your research. No matter how difficult it is, seek the right answers," Song Qingshi urges.

"The right answers?" Yue Wuhuan senses an emphasis on these words.

Song Qingshi smiles, playfully touching his Blood King Vine.

The Yuan Ying in his Dantian is well-controlled by the medication, leaving some room for contingency.

He must hurry to set his final destiny in motion.

　...

In the You Ming realm, darkness reigns everywhere. Only sporadic fireflies in the forest offer faint glimmers of light.

An Long lifts his head to see a young man in white among the trees. Resisting the urge for slaughter bombarding his mind, he painfully asks, "Why have you come?"

These days, he's been oscillating between sanity and madness, eventually falling under demonic influence. He captured Ye Lin Xian Jun's wife and daughter, coercing him to pen the letter that tricked Song Qingshi into coming.

Upon regaining his senses, he realized Ye Lin Xian Jun left a flaw in the letter. The last time Huang Quan Tan Hua blossomed was 48 years ago. Song Qingshi couldn't have possibly forgotten and would surely see through the trap.

An Long forcibly ignored the inconsistency.

The voices in his mind are shrieking incessantly, trying to regain control over his body, threatening to make the tragedies of the past recur.

He doesn't know how much longer he can hold out.

"You fool, are you asking for death?!" An Long's scales continually appear and disappear, his clawed fingertips constantly extending and retracting. Overwhelmed by a murderous urge, he spits out, "Get lost! Don't appear before me!"

Song Qingshi quietly watches him, his face devoid of expression:

"We're no longer friends, so there's no need for me to hold back."

"This time, I've come to kill you."