After sending Li Dabao away, they performed a rite of passage for Da Ya.
Da Ya had been a kind and decent soul. It was only because she placed her trust in the wrong person that she met such a tragic end.
They prayed for her with sincere hearts, hoping that in her next life she would be born into a happy family, one that would make these hundred years of suffering worth enduring.
Once Li Dabao's soul returned to its homeland, his body quickly withered away. From it rolled out a large, pitch-black orb, twice the size of a Yin Eye Pearl.
Yao Ranran picked up the orb, stored it away, and returned to Gu Ling Mountain with Xiao Rong in tow.
Jiang Shengxiang watched them go, eyes brimming with admiration. "My dream… is to become a great hero who saves the world, just like Fairy Ranran!"
Grandma Zhang, who was standing at the door, heard this. Without a word, she went back into her room, fetched a few wooden pillows, and stacked them on top of Jiang Shengxiang's own. "This way… Xiang'er should have a good dream tonight."
[Blood Eye Pearl: An extremely ominous and evil object, cultivated from a Yin Eye Pearl.]
"The Blood Eye Pearl is now without a master. I wonder if Left Blind Daoist still has Li Dabao's soul lamp. If he does, he should know by now that his disciple is gone," Yao Ranran said seriously to Xiao Rong.
But the little tree was already asleep, standing upright.
"…"
"Well then, late at night, one should do what is meant for late at night—sleep."
Yao Ranran carried the small figure back to his room. She herself returned to the wooden bed, but sleep refused to come.
Earlier, when the Yin Eye Pearl had cracked, a wisp of black mist had leaked out. That was when she knew the evil cultivator was approaching. She crossed through clouds of sinister intent and arrived in Longyin Village, where she immediately spotted the sneaky Li Dabao.
With a flick of her hand, she summoned the Nine Lotus Ring and subdued her enemy in a single move.
Li Dabao had not retrieved the Yin Eye Pearl from his blood puppet, and his true cultivation was only at the twelfth layer of Qi Refinement—he had not even reached Foundation Establishment.
It was Da Ya who had absorbed a great deal of human essence and blood, forcing Yao Ranran to spend an extra half a move to bind the two of them with her Spirit-Transforming Rope.
Ever since she had touched upon demonic power, her cultivation seemed to have gained a new strand of spiritual energy—thick as a hemp rope. It was demonic qi, yet once it flowed through her body, it instantly transformed into clear spiritual qi.
She had no explanation for it.
It felt as natural as water flowing downstream.
Effortless.
"Perhaps it's because of the sacred-grade immortal lotus. In the novel, it was mentioned that the original body had a water spiritual root, but nothing was said about it being a sacred-grade lotus. Could it be that my transmigration changed the body's constitution? Or… did the original owner never realize her true nature, even at death?"
Yao Ranran pondered for a moment.
Her eyelids began to droop.
No… something was off.
The original owner had truly fallen to demonic cultivation and practiced demonic arts. Later, she was completely under Li Luoqi's control, without the slightest ability to purify demonic qi.
Could the truth be that…
"Hooo… hooo…"
The world was silent. The earth slept. The dark, foreboding Gu Ling Mountain melded perfectly into the night.
-
Eastern Wilderness.
Langgan City.
An elderly Toist priest, leaning on a bamboo staff hung with a yellow pennant bearing the single word "Fate," wandered alone at the city gates. His left eye was blind; his cloudy right eye scanned the passing travelers.
At that moment, a man wearing a square kerchief, carrying a box on his back, and dressed like a scholar walked past him.
The old Taoist's heart jolted. "This scholar… what a powerful murderous aura!"
In hundreds of years of wandering the Eastern Wilderness, he had seen countless villains and evil cultivators, but never one whose killing intent was this thick at such a young age. How many lives had this man taken?
"Please wait, young sir!"
One-Eyed Daoist quickened his pace silently and stepped in front of the scholar.
The scholar paused, wiped the sweat from his brow, and smiled. "Daoist, I don't have my fortune told. I'm on my way home."
One-Eyed Daoist stroked his beard with one hand and said with mysterious gravity, "I don't tell fortunes either. Your fate is too unusual for others to read."
The scholar's expression shifted slightly. "You're right. No fortune-teller can predict the fate of someone who's been… there."
There?
One-Eyed Daoist's mind turned.
The scholar suddenly beamed. "But now it's different. My grandmother sent word that a certain fairy has removed the evil spirit plaguing our village. Life has returned to peace."
"There is no such thing as peace in the Eastern Wilderness," One-Eyed Daoist said meaningfully. "Young man, I see darkness on your brow. This journey home will not be smooth."
The scholar frowned. "Daoist, I have no money."
"…"
"I don't want your money. I just wish to save you from disaster and guide you onto the immortal path."
The scholar still shook his head. "No, no. I'm going home."
He sidestepped the Daoist and pressed forward with determined steps.
"You couldn't trust strange wandering Daoists outside."
His grandmother had said in her letter that she hoped he would take Fairy Ranran as his master. He mustn't be tricked away.
One-Eyed Daoist grew anxious. Such a fine seedling could not be let go!
He followed the scholar for eight li, persuading him along the way. But the scholar's resolve was unshakable. This was the first time One-Eyed Daoist had met a man immune to both coaxing and pressure.
"Fine! Fine!" The Daoist, frustrated, planted his staff in the ground and pulled from his robes an old, yellow-bound book.
"Young man, this book is for the destined. We've traveled together for some time, which must be fate. I'll entrust this cultivation manual to you."
"No, thank you," the scholar replied politely.
One-Eyed Daoist tossed the book to him and vanished instantly.
"Hehehe, men need their own private space. Now that I'm gone, can you resist opening such an ancient, mysterious yellow book? Hahaha!"
"Cultivation manual?" The scholar blinked, puzzled. Then a sudden gale blew, and the book tumbled straight into a blazing campfire.
The scholar hurried to retrieve it. "It's not mine! I have to return it to that Daoist!"
The wind howled, carrying the half-burned book far away.
One-Eyed Daoist nearly spat blood. "The book—gone!
The scholar—gone!
And my enemies have caught up!"
He snapped the poisoned arrow lodged in his chest and turned to glare coldly at the pursuers. He had calculated his escape route perfectly. How had they caught up?
Caw— Caw—
A sudden flock of crows passed overhead, dropping several white splatters directly onto him.
His right eye widened as he formed a hand seal. "Could it be the misfortune spirit I offended earlier is still clinging to me?!"
Meanwhile, the scholar chased the tattered book for a long while, still clutching a blood-red bead the size of an eyeball in his left hand.
"Where did that Daoist go? Did he leave this bead for me on purpose?"
The scholar stared at it in confusion. After waiting a full day without seeing anyone, he resumed his journey home. He was determined to become Fairy Ranran's disciple.