Tang Xiangyin fell silent for a moment, which Yao Ranran seemed to notice.
"…I really did just pick him up. I was refining pills at the time, and he suddenly collapsed in the smoke. So I picked him up!"
Yao Ranran answered with utter sincerity.
Tang Xiangyin suddenly recalled the terrible explosions that had rocked the ground earlier that morning, and her words from then instantly made sense.
"So it was Fairy Ranran who saved this puppet boy from the smoke?"
"Well… sort of. I was trying to save him!"
Yao Ranran wasn't lying. After she realized her exploding furnace had nearly blown apart a puppet child, she tried to make up for her mistake. She had immediately poured spiritual energy into him and even fed him one of her own pills. Even if others called them failed pills, at that moment she had been completely confident.
After all, wasn't this exactly how it always went in novels? The protagonist's pill looked black and ugly, but once consumed it would reveal itself as a true immortal medicine.
It was because the protagonist's talent in alchemy was unparalleled. The outer appearance of failure was merely Heaven's way of disguising their genius, protecting them with a shroud of ordinary disguise.
In truth, those so-called failed pills were genuine immortal pills, able to bring the dead back to life and regrow flesh on bare bones!
…Except, after Yao Ranran fed the puppet boy her pill, he had only vomited up a few spurts of white foam, convulsed a few times in a very unnatural manner, and then collapsed unconscious.
Terrified that Elder Yang would scold her—or worse, demand compensation—Yao Ranran had secretly tucked the puppet child away. She thought, if her next batch succeeded, she could feed him another and bring him back around.
But… the next furnace never succeeded.
Then the sacrificial ritual began, and Yan Shanyi tried to take her life. In the chaos, Yao Ranran nearly forgot the puppet boy even existed.
Until the moment Tang Xiangyin was nearly thrown into the pill furnace. Watching Tang Xiangyin's round, soft back, she suddenly remembered that the puppet boy also wore red and that the lines of his hips were uncannily similar to Tang Xiangyin's mushroom body.
So she stripped the puppet child bare, pressed one round cheek against Elder Yang's gaze, and used the seeping evil qi in the floor to divert his attention, swapping Tang Xiangyin out in the process.
The only strange part was… why had the puppet boy, who shouldn't have had any human consciousness, struggled so fiercely inside the furnace?
And he was making quite the racket too.
Yao Ranran frowned, staring at the enormous pill furnace that was nearly rattling apart at the seams.
"Heh… this little thing's strength isn't half bad!" Elder Yang's skeletal face bulged with veins as he quickened his hand seals. Ghostly flames surged, and dark-blue smoke billowed upward like storm clouds.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The lid shook harder and harder.
Elder Shang never imagined he would wake in such suffocating darkness.
A rancid stench assaulted his nose, half his body submerged in thick, viscous fluid that burned like real fire. The talisman puppet he used as his vessel had already melted away, leaving only his soul, drowning in this strange mire.
Where was this?
Was this… a swamp?
For the first time since descending to the mortal realm, Elder Shang felt fear.
His soul felt like it was being smelted alive in the mire, his strength constantly being leeched away…
"Hiss!" A sword light as pure as snow spread across the heavens, but suddenly faltered in midair. Snowflakes scattered and melted as Pei Xianqiao plummeted from the sky, clenching the finger that bore her storage ring.
Another fresh crack marred the ancient ring's surface.
"Master!" Xiao Ling rushed to her side, voice urgent.
Why had her master suddenly ceased attacking?
Perplexed, Xiao Ling expanded the secret realm's defenses, blocking invading evil spirits.
Pei Xianqiao swallowed a pill, lowered her head, and flung several talismans into the air. Her gaze, unsettled and bewildered, was fixed on the cracked storage ring.
Who had the power to wound Elder Shang twice in succession?
And this time, even she herself had been caught by the backlash.
"Master, master… have you been affected by the evil aura again?" Xiao Ling called anxiously, trying to rouse her.
Pei Xianqiao's eyes flickered, but their depths remained clear.
The evil aura hadn't touched her mind, yet Elder Shang's repeated injuries left her shaken.
Could it be… that she wouldn't escape this time?
…
"Should I strike now and kill him?" Yao Ranran stared at Elder Yang's back, uncertainty tightening her brow.
Tang Xiangyin blinked in confusion. "Fairy, you don't want to wait any longer? Maybe this batch will succeed. Before he tried to refine me, that old man said he had prepared these materials for a long time!
Just the supplementary ingredients alone must have cost a fortune in spirit stones. I don't know if he can still make the pill without the main ingredient, but…"
Tang Xiangyin puffed her cheeks in indignation and glared at Elder Yang. Her little fists clenched tight, though in her eyes was a hint of expectation for the furnace's outcome.
Yao Ranran hesitated.
Truth be told, she wasn't waiting for the pill at all. But Tang Xiangyin had a point—if it did succeed, the result probably wouldn't be anything ordinary.
Then… they would wait a bit longer.
Yao Ranran forced down her impatience and began watching Elder Yang's refining technique with rapt focus.
…
At the Yan Family Fortress plaza.
That pair of eyes, gazing down from above all beings, swept lightly across the fortress. The prison that had trapped so many lives seemed, in his sight, no greater than a speck of dust. His sorrowful eyes fell upon the little monk, his voice pure, untouched by worldly dust.
"Heaven-born Fózǐ, that girl… is she your companion?"
Mu Jialing had not yet answered when murmurs of fear rippled through the crowd below.
"Who is he referring to? Fairy Pei, or Fairy Ranran?"
"Where have the two gone? Could they have found a way to escape?"
"Don't speak nonsense! Little Sister Qiao Qiao isn't that kind of person! If she had an escape method, she would've brought us all along. As for Fairy Ranran… her cultivation is so low. It's normal if she just found somewhere to hide." He Huatao barked loudly, suppressing most of the loose cultivators' voices.
Mu Jialing seemed deaf to the noise. His eyes, clear as morning dew, were calm and unwavering.
"Amitabha. All who entered here are my companions.
Records in Guan Fan Temple say that tens of thousands of years ago, Master Mingzhi sacrificed himself to seal away evil with an immortal artifact. But was that noble act a lie… or perhaps his design all along?"
His voice trailed off, his face filled with grief.
"Heaven-born Fózǐ, do you seek to become Buddha?" The lingering voice of Master Mingzhi echoed with chilling resonance.
Mu Jialing pressed his palms together devoutly, without the slightest hesitation in his gaze. "What I seek to become is myself."
Behind the divine tree, those eyes shifted color ever so slightly. Compassionate light fell upon his frail figure as the voice spoke, drawn-out and solemn.
"Heaven-born Fózǐ, I see Heaven has tied a red thread for you. In the end, you truly will become yourself.
Without the faith of the masses, without followers at your back, you are free. So why would you enter the path of Buddha at all?"