Just breathing in the fragrance of the flower petal was enough to begin healing her.
She could feel the burning spiritual corrosion that had been eating away at her foundation starting to ease, like cool water being poured over burning flesh.
Without thinking, her lips parted and she bit down on the delicate petal, swallowing it instinctively.
The taste was bitter but immediately followed by a surge of invigorating energy that flowed through her like liquid starlight.
Slowly, impossibly, strength began returning to her limbs. The spiritual corrosion that had paralyzed her started to recede like frost melting under the morning sun.
Even more shocking, the malevolent influence of the Heavenly Demon's lingering corruption within her - the dark poison that had been eating away at her very soul since the final battle - seemed to weaken significantly under the elixir's purifying force.
She took a deep breath - the first real breath she'd been able to take since awakening in this place - and slowly lifted her body.
What she saw when she raised her head defied all logic and reason.
Cang Wuhen was moving through the poisonous garden like some kind of demented farmer, running from plant to plant with manic energy.
He was plucking and throwing, plucking and throwing, moving with the single-minded determination of a man completely possessed by some inexplicable purpose.
But instead of the death she expected such contact to bring, everywhere he touched transformed completely.
Dark purple vegetation burst into vibrant green life.
Twisted, malevolent herbs became pure spiritual medicines right before her eyes.
The purified flowers were falling around her like rain from heaven, each one landing near her paralyzed form.
Each petal that touched her brought more healing, more strength returning to her battered body.
But it was more than just the transformation itself that shocked her to her very core.
It was the nature of the power she was witnessing.
This wasn't some demonic technique or corrupted cultivation method.
This was purification. Pure, divine purification.
Her lips trembled as she stared in disbelief, her voice barely a whisper: "How... how can the son of that monster possess the Heavenly Purification Power?"
The question tore at her very understanding of reality.
That divine ability belonged to Lin Feng, the Son of Heaven, blessed by the heavens themselves.
It was his signature power, the force that had made him humanity's greatest hope against demonic corruption.
Yet here was Cang Wuhen, heir to the Demonic Sect Master's bloodline, wielding the same power with casual ease.
Not only wielding it, but using it more effectively than she had ever seen Lin Feng manage.
As she watched him continue his frantic work, transforming death into life with every touch, another memory surfaced from the deepest recesses of her mind - the final moment of Lin Feng's last battle.
She remembered it with crystal clarity now.
When the demon's sword had pierced Lin Feng's chest, when his life force began to fade, his body had started turning to white dust, vanishing like morning mist caught by the wind.
But even as his physical form dissolved, he had grabbed the Heavenly Demon's collar with the last of his strength and yelled his final promise with a voice that seemed to echo from the very heavens themselves:
"I will return! And this time, I'll be purer than before!"
Those had been his last words before his essence scattered to the cosmic winds, leaving her alone and broken in a world suddenly devoid of hope.
'Purer than before...'
The words echoed in her mind as she watched Cang Wuhen work his impossible miracles.
A terrible, wonderful possibility began to form in her thoughts - one so outrageous that it threatened to shatter everything she thought she knew about the world.
What if Lin Feng had somehow succeeded in his promise? What if his soul had found a way to reincarnate, but not in the way anyone expected?
What if the Son of Heaven had somehow managed to return in the body of his greatest enemy's child, carrying with him not only his divine purification power but also access to the system he had always coveted?
'Wasn't the Heavenly Purification Power supposed to belong to Lin Feng?' she wondered, her heart pounding with desperate hope and terrifying uncertainty.
The implications made her head spin.
If Cang Wuhen was actually Lin Feng reincarnated, then everything she thought she knew about good and evil, about heroes and villains, about her own quest for vengeance - all of it would be meaningless.
But as she watched him work, seeing the divine purification power flowing through him as naturally as breathing, she began to wonder if the impossible might actually be true.
Yue Lianhua sat in stunned silence, her gaze fixed on the growing pile of transformed herbs scattered around the cavern floor.
Each one glowed with a vibrant green radiance that spoke of pure spiritual energy, untainted by the corruption that had once consumed them.
Her eyes blinked rapidly, and she found herself swallowing involuntarily as moisture gathered in her mouth.
What she was witnessing wasn't just impressive - it was world-shaking.
These weren't merely herbs; they were treasures that empires would go to war over, artifacts that could reshape the balance of power across entire continents.
A single one of these purified spiritual medicines could extend a cultivator's lifespan by decades.
Three or four together could break through cultivation bottlenecks that had plagued masters for centuries. And here they were, scattered across the ground like fallen leaves after a storm.
She had heard stories of ancient sects that possessed just one such treasure, hoarding it in their most secure vaults and using it to maintain their dominance for generations.
Kingdoms had risen and fallen over the rumor of such herbs existing in distant lands.
Even the weakest of these purified plants could change the demographic of an entire cultivation world, creating new powerhouses and toppling old dynasties.
The sheer impossibility of what she was seeing made her head spin.
How could there be so many? How could they have been created so casually, so effortlessly?
Her attention shifted back to Cang Wuhen, who had been working with manic determination for what felt like hours.
His movements were slowing now, his breathing becoming labored.
The frantic energy that had driven him to purify plant after plant was finally beginning to fade.
She watched as his legs gave out beneath him and he collapsed onto the stone floor, his chest rising and falling in shallow, exhausted gasps.
Despite everything - despite her hatred, her confusion, her desperate need for answers - something twisted in her chest at the sight of his exhaustion.
Her mouth parted as if to speak, but no words came. Her voice was still weak, her body still recovering from the spiritual corrosion that had nearly killed her.
From a rocky outcrop nearby, she spotted one of the recently purified herbs.
Moving carefully, wincing at the lingering traces of poison in the air, she reached out with trembling fingers to pluck it.
The spiritual energy radiating from the plant was so pure, so potent, that just touching it sent waves of healing energy through her battered system.
Summoning what little strength she had recovered, Lianhua staggered to her feet.
Each step was painful, her legs still weak from the paralysis, but she forced herself to walk toward Cang Wuhen's prone form.
Standing over him, looking down at his exhausted face, she bit her lip hard enough to taste blood.
Memories of their encounters flashed through her mind - his hands on her body, the violation she had felt, the rage that had driven her to try to strangle him.
But now, seeing him like this, those memories warred with something else.
His dedication had been real. His exhaustion was genuine.
Whatever his motivations, he had worked himself to the point of collapse transforming deadly poisons into life-saving medicines.
"Oh shit, not again," he said groggily, his eyes fluttering open to focus on her standing above him. "I'm going to die if you strangle me now."