True salvation is not giving something away.
It is seeing through the deepest obsession in another's heart,
then shaping the key into exactly what they need.
By the time they accept it—
the door has already opened.
The clouds around Saintess Peak were alive.
Standing at the mountain's base, Jiang Muchen watched them coil around sheer cliffs like breathing creatures—sometimes forming cranes, sometimes scattering into serpents and dragons. A stone stairway descended from within the mist, paved with green jade. Every step was etched with dense runes.
Anti-flight formations.
Anyone who climbed Saintess Peak did so one step at a time.
Within the entire Red Dust Pavilion, fewer than three outer disciples were granted this path in a decade.
Wang Duobao followed behind him, carrying a bamboo basket taller than half a man. Bottles clinked softly inside.
Everything within had cost Jiang Muchen three sleepless nights to prepare.
Not just the thousand-year Snow Lotus gifted by Murong Xueli—but seventeen auxiliary herbs gathered across sects, each carefully labeled with dosage, timing, and handling instructions. At the very bottom lay three warm jade slips, containing treatment plans he had refined hundreds of times.
"Brother Jiang…" Wang Duobao's voice was tight.
"I've heard Saintess Su has refused seventeen alchemy masters and forty-nine formation grandmasters in the past three years. If we go up like this…"
"We will be driven away," Jiang Muchen replied calmly.
"Or worse."
He paused, then turned.
"So you go back. Give me the basket. If I'm not back by sunset… the Mu Chen Society is yours."
"Brother Jiang!" Wang Duobao's eyes reddened.
"Enough." Jiang Muchen took the basket and slung it over his shoulder. It was heavy—but his back remained straight.
He stepped onto the first jade stair.
The moment his foot landed, the clouds surged. Two white-robed figures condensed from mist—mountain guardians formed by formation illusions.
"Saintess Peak is forbidden ground," one said coldly.
"Leave."
Jiang Muchen bowed and produced a jade pendant.
Its front bore the sword emblem of the Azure Nether Sword Sect.
On the back, two characters were engraved:
Qingluan.
A token Dongfang Qingluan had pressed into his hand before he left—"You may need this one day."
"Outer disciple Jiang Muchen seeks audience with Saintess Su," he said clearly.
"To treat Lady Liu Qingyao's Heart-Burning Flame Poison."
The second guardian frowned.
"How do you know of Lady Liu?"
"Senior Brother Lu Mingyuan once mentioned it," Jiang Muchen replied, raising the pendant.
"This token verifies my claim."
The guardian scanned it with her spiritual sense. Her expression shifted.
They exchanged a glance.
"Lady Liu's condition is indeed the Saintess's heart-knot," the first guardian said slowly.
"But you are merely an outer disciple—"
Jiang Muchen did not argue.
He set down the basket, opened the top jade box.
Cold air spilled out.
The thousand-year Snow Lotus rested within, petals carved like crystal ice, starlight flowing gently at its core. Frost bloomed across nearby clouds.
"Snow Lotus of the Frozen Illusion Realm," Jiang Muchen said.
"It counters Heart-Burning Flame Poison."
He opened the second box—seventeen auxiliary herbs, each sealed, each labeled in precise script.
"The Snow Lotus is too fierce alone," he continued evenly.
"Lady Liu's meridians are already brittle. Direct use would destroy her foundation."
He raised three jade slips.
"First plan: aggressive purge. Three days to remove seventy percent of the poison. Thirty percent risk."
"Second plan: gentle nourishment. One year. Safe—but too slow."
"Third plan," he paused,
"a balanced method. Nine treatments, seven days apart. Two months total. Ten percent risk—but requires the Saintess to guard the process with her Golden Core."
Silence.
The guardians stood stunned.
In thirty years of guarding this mountain, they had seen countless petitioners—treasure bearers, tearful supplicants, opportunists.
None like this.
One nodded sharply.
"Wait here."
She vanished into the clouds.
Jiang Muchen stood unmoving. Wind tugged at his patched gray robe, revealing an inner garment repaired three times.
Below, Wang Duobao's nose burned.
Half an incense later—
"Saintess summons you," the guardian returned.
"You alone."
Step by step, Jiang Muchen climbed.
The higher he went, the purer the spiritual energy became. Saintess Peak itself was a colossal gathering formation, its core at the summit.
At the 999th step, the clouds parted.
A white jade palace rose above the sea of mist. Seventy-two jade bells chimed beneath the eaves. Before the hall bloomed a seven-colored flower sea.
At its center stood an octagonal pavilion.
A woman in white sat with her back to him.
Beside her lay a young girl, unconscious—face flushed red, sparks flickering from her breath.
Liu Qingyao.
Jiang Muchen bowed.
"Outer disciple Jiang Muchen greets Saintess Su."
"Come closer," she said coolly.
Her face was flawless—but her eyes were colder still. Only when she looked at Liu Qingyao did the faintest pain flicker.
"You claim you can save her," Su Qingwu said.
"Why should I believe you?"
"Seventy percent certainty," Jiang Muchen replied, laying out the herbs.
"But I need three things."
He named them.
When he finished, Su Qingwu asked quietly,
"You are only at Qi Refinement. Why should I trust you?"
Jiang Muchen answered by kneeling beside Liu Qingyao.
Silver needles—twelve of them—gleamed faintly blue.
"Star-pattern steel," he said.
"If this fails, I will leave and never return."
The needle fell.
Liu Qingyao trembled—and the redness faded.
Su Qingwu's fingers tightened.
Twelve needles later, Liu Qingyao's breathing steadied.
"First step complete," Jiang Muchen said, exhausted.
Three days and nights passed.
When Liu Qingyao opened her eyes, Su Qingwu broke.
Tears fell.
She bowed deeply to Jiang Muchen.
"This debt," she said, voice steady,
"I will never forget."
Far away, in the depths of the Shattered Star Mine—
Xiao Chen clenched the Demon-Calamity Orb.
"Let her favor him," he sneered.
"In three days… even Golden Core will kneel."