Chapter 74

Song Qingshi plunged headlong into his research on the Black Death Butterfly, often toiling until the dead of night and snatching only an hour or two of sleep. Yue Wuhuan, anxious about the pain in his Nascent Soul, set aside all other tasks to fulfill Song Qingshi’s requests. He tirelessly crafted poison puppets and various deadly toxins, meticulously preparing for their upcoming seclusion.

For days, both worked with a frenetic intensity.

Finally, Yue Wuhuan received the Spirit Veil Moonlight Robe, urgently modified by the Heavenly Craft Pavilion, and promptly delivered it to Song Qingshi.

This high-grade magical robe had cost a staggering 1.8 million top-grade spirit stones. Woven from golden silkworm silk interwoven with moon spider threads, it was fireproof, waterproof, and impervious to blades, boasting an invisibility function along with numerous added magical artifacts and defensive arrays. The robe itself was exquisitely beautiful, with golden threads subtly shimmering within its icy silk gauze—its only flaw being its exorbitant price.

Song Qingshi immediately donned the robe, familiarized himself with its functions, and was immensely pleased.

He also stored the poison puppets and Black Death Butterflies Yue Wuhuan had created into his Mustard Seed Bag. After a long moment of hesitation, he inquired, "Any developments in the Western Forest?"

During this period, he had deliberately avoided asking about external affairs to prevent upsetting Yue Wuhuan. However, some matters were unavoidable, and both understood this. After Yue Wuhuan injured An Long and exposed his half-demon nature, they had to be vigilant against retaliation from the fanatical Ten Thousand Poisons Sect.

Yue Wuhuan replied, "An Long’s half-demon identity was revealed, and he hasn't returned to the Western Forest. The Ten Thousand Poisons Sect stripped him of his leadership, plunging them into chaos. The elders have fractured into factions, now locked in internal conflict."

When An Long departed, he could no longer suppress the demonic blood within him, leading to the exposure of his true form.

The cultivation world was enraged, issuing a bounty for his capture, yet no one had located him.

Still uneasy, Yue Wuhuan secretly posted a million-spirit-stone bounty on An Long’s head through the Night Rain Pavilion and various assassin organizations, anonymously seeking masters to end his life.

An Long had plummeted from the esteemed status of a Nascent Soul Grandmaster to a hunted pariah, unable to command the Western Forest’s power and resources. This significantly reduced the threat to Medicine King Valley. Even if he were still alive, the newly arranged poison mist arrays and traps, combined with Song Qingshi’s spectral flames, could prevent intrusion. At worst, they still possessed safe escape routes.

After a moment of contemplation, Yue Wuhuan added, "The Western Forest is too chaotic. The latest intelligence has been cut off."

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

"Eight days ago," Yue Wuhuan answered.

Song Qingshi paused briefly, then forced a casual smile. "You keep an eye on the intelligence. I’ll head back to the lab."

Yue Wuhuan watched his retreating figure, a faint unease stirring in his heart.

...

Lightning tore through the sky, roaring angrily as a torrential downpour threatened.

Song Qingshi finished the last petri dish and walked to the window, gazing at the dark, overcast sky. He extended his palm, and faint golden motes appeared—the Golden Light of Merit accumulated from the shredded scrolls. Though minuscule, they had seamlessly integrated with his soul, becoming a part of him. Not only did they allow him to perceive the phoenix, but they also secretly granted him glimpses of heavenly secrets.

A scientist required rationality and evidence.

He had pondered for days, still questioning certain things: his late master’s true identity, the system’s mysterious tasks, the meaning behind fate’s revelations, and the ultimate outcome...

One thing was certain: Yue Wuhuan was the phoenix from his dreams. The coincidences surrounding him were not mere chance. For reasons unknown, the Heavenly Dao harbored animosity towards him but could not directly inflict death. Instead, it manipulated the difficulty of his tribulations, relentlessly toying with his destiny, shattering his happiness, and forcing him to descend into despair like that defiled phoenix kite—unable to spread its wings, falling step by step into madness before inevitably walking the path to self-destruction.

Time was pressing. Each day, he felt an unknown crisis drawing nearer.

He could not speak of it, lest the Heavenly Dao detect him and forcibly erase him, altering the trajectory of fate to hasten the tragedy.

Through his research on the Black Death Butterfly and the insights from the Blood King Vine, he had quietly sown seeds, one after another...

He had to give his all to secure a future of hope.

The severed intelligence from the Western Forest immediately signaled to him that the blade of fate was about to descend.

...

The Ten Thousand Poisons Sect was a gruesome scene of rotting corpses and bloodstains. Gu insects and venomous creatures, long out of control, roamed freely.

A grotesque half-demon crawled through the piles of bodies, his form covered in black scales, his back bristling with blood-soaked barbs. His long scorpion tail thrashed wildly, tearing at scattered fragments of corpses. Devoid of reason or emotion, only slaughter could quell the craving and agony within him. He panted, hissed, and struggled madly. After destroying everything, the crimson hue in one of his eyes gradually receded, and he regained a sliver of human rationality—realizing the horrific deeds he had committed. He tried to resist, but the voice in his mind relentlessly resurfaced, dragging him deeper into the vortex of slaughter.

"His Emotionless Path has already shattered."

"He’s going to form a Dao bond."

"The heart and person you could never possess now belong to another."

"Status, dignity, affection... you have nothing left."

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

"..."

"Shut up! The Emotionless Path isn’t broken!" An Long frantically clawed at his head, desperate to expel the voice. "You’re not my hallucination! These things you’re saying... I don’t know them! I don’t want to know!" This nightmarish voice clung to him like a festering wound, daily detailing events in Medicine King Valley, whispering of affections he loathed to hear, inciting bloodthirsty desires. Every word tormented him, leaving him increasingly confused and deranged.

The urge for slaughter and destruction intensified, eventually overwhelming the Emotion Lock and shattering it.

When the Gu insect died, it unleashed a backlash upon its master.

All the emotions once absorbed by the Emotion Lock surged back, brutally tearing open the sole vulnerability in his heart, expanding it relentlessly, and ceaselessly stimulating the demonic blood within him, causing him to lose control and become a stranger to himself. Everyone who saw his body recoiled in fear and disgust, labeling him a "monster." This epithet only fueled his rage and madness, leading him to be dominated by the demonic blood and lose his human consciousness. When he awoke, his hands were stained with blood, and no living soul remained before him.

"I’m not a monster."

His body grew increasingly monstrous, his lucid moments dwindling. The sinister voice, claiming to be fate, continued to strip away his human emotions, attempting to reduce him to a demonic entity, plunging him into darkness, and making him a controlled pawn.

He had no escape...

"No need for pity, no need for emotions. You were born a weapon of slaughter. Battlefields and bloodshed are your true passion."

"You know the only way to end the suffering."

"Go. Kill them. Destroy the root of your inner demons."

"Go. This is your destiny."

...

Late at night, Yue Wuhuan worked in his private laboratory, refining poison puppets. He aimed to improve them, integrating more lethal mechanisms to transform them into the most terrifying puppet artifacts in the cultivation world, turning Medicine King Valley into a forbidden zone no one dared to trespass. The more he pondered, the more inspired he became.

Suddenly, the laboratory door burst open.

Song Qingshi excitedly rushed in: "Wuhuan, I succeeded!"

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

Song Qingshi handed him a crystal petri dish, inside which lay a small, red chrysalis, resembling a tiny flame, radiating a subtle warmth.

The original Black Death Butterfly chrysalis had been black.

Yue Wuhuan took the small flame in the crystal box and marveled, "Its metamorphosis is truly beautiful."

"When released, it will transform into a flame-red butterfly. It can either indiscriminately scatter paralyzing, lethal scales or attack marked creatures. If it attacks directly, it injects all its toxins into the bloodstream, instantly seizing control of the nervous system and spreading throughout the body. I’ve confirmed the toxin’s potency is eight times stronger than before. Based on data, it should be effective against most Soul Formation cultivators. It’s a pity we lack test subjects," Song Qingshi said with a hint of regret. "There’s no way to capture a Soul Formation cultivator for trials."

Yue Wuhuan chuckled, "Test subjects will eventually appear. I feel it can no longer be called the Black Death Butterfly. Perhaps we should give it a new name to distinguish it from the original."

"Let’s call it Nirvana," Song Qingshi said quickly, looking at him. "It’s a butterfly born from fire and suffering. You can use it to kill everything that has harmed you, no matter what..."

"Nirvana?" Yue Wuhuan savored the word, finding it deeply appealing. He wished to use this butterfly of vengeance to incinerate those despicable wretches. "Only through complete destruction can there be rebirth."

Recently, he had tried to vocalize his innermost thoughts, discerning which were pathological. Fortunately, Song Qingshi largely accepted or tolerated his ideas, including his intense possessiveness in relationships and his passion and desires in bed, which were deemed normal interests rather than perversions.

This lifted a tremendous weight from his heart.

"Not everyone in this world deserves to die," Song Qingshi offered a counterpoint to his murderous thoughts. "I hope you draw a clear line in your mind. You can set the standard yourself, but once set, do not arbitrarily change it."

Yue Wuhuan didn't quite understand.

Song Qingshi asked, "Does Qing Luan deserve to die? Does Ming Hong deserve to die? Does Nian Nian deserve to die? Does Immortal Lord Yan Yuan deserve to die? Does the girl surnamed Lan, who read the storybook, deserve to die? Does Immortal Lord Ye Lin, who knew about the illustrated books, deserve to die?"

Yue Wuhuan was deeply conflicted. He felt many people had reasons to die, but he wasn’t sure if they should be killed. Yet, Qing Shi seemed to disapprove, or perhaps they couldn't be killed?

Song Qingshi pleaded, "Medicine King Valley researches various elixirs and medical arts. If you kill everyone, where will these studies be applied?"

"Qing Shi is getting better at joking," Yue Wuhuan couldn’t help but laugh. "I was just thinking about it. How could I possibly kill everyone in the world?"

Song Qingshi was insistent: "Promise me, even amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood, leave some room for mercy. Let those who don’t truly deserve death live, to change the world..."

For some reason, he trailed off without finishing his sentence.

Yue Wuhuan casually replied, "Alright, as you wish."

Song Qingshi seemed very happy and shared many more joyful moments with him.

Now, Yue Wuhuan gazed at the Nirvana red butterfly in his hand and realized Song Qingshi was serious. He approved of his desire to kill, to eliminate all evil, and a sweetness filled his heart.

Unfortunately, these matters could not be rushed. First, they had to wait for Song Qingshi to fully restore his Nascent Soul, and for himself to break through his meridians and form a Golden Core. Then, they could slowly plan, seize opportunities, and eliminate those despicable individuals one by one.

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 beautiful robe. "I have this."

Suddenly, a Messenger Bird arrived, carrying a letter from Immortal Lord Ye Lin. Song Qingshi opened the letter, glanced at its contents, and his expression gradually turned solemn. He handed the letter to Yue Wuhuan: "The Underworld Ephemeral Flower is about to bloom. I need this medicinal ingredient."

Medicine King Valley had a long-standing reputation for acquiring various medicinal ingredients, and the Night Rain Pavilion often sold such intelligence directly to them.

The Underworld Ephemeral Flower bloomed once every fifty years, exclusively in the Netherworld Secret Realm. It withered within two hours of blooming and had to be collected and refined on the spot. However, the Netherworld Secret Realm was protected by a barrier, requiring cultivators at the Golden Core stage or above to enter. Few alchemists possessed such cultivation, so collecting this flower posed little risk.

Yue Wuhuan recalled that the elixir refined from the Underworld Ephemeral Flower would greatly aid Song Qingshi’s Nascent Soul injuries, so he should support its collection. However, he himself could not enter the Netherworld Secret Realm... The thought of Song Qingshi leaving him filled him with anxiety, fearing the loss of this hard-won happiness.

Song Qingshi calmly stated, "Wuhuan, I will return."

His voice was firm, bringing immense comfort.

Yue Wuhuan softly asked, "Is it... pathological that I want to keep you locked up?"

Song Qingshi did not answer.

Yue Wuhuan understood. He closed his eyes, controlling his breathing and emotions: "Go then."

"Trust me," Song Qingshi rose on his toes, kissed his lips, and solemnly promised, "No matter what happens, I will return. You must wait for me, wait for me to come back and become your Dao companion."

Yue Wuhuan nodded gently: "Alright."

Song Qingshi instructed, "Wuhuan, after I leave, you must continue your research. No matter how difficult, you must seek the correct answer."

Yue Wuhuan felt he was trying to emphasize something: "The correct answer?"

Song Qingshi smiled and playfully touched his Blood King Vine.

The Nascent Soul in his dantian was well-controlled by the medicine, leaving him with ample energy.

He had to act quickly to arrange their final destiny.

...

The Netherworld Secret Realm was shrouded in darkness, with only the faint glow of fireflies in the forest providing meager light.

An Long looked up at the white-robed youth in the tree, struggling to resist the frantic, murderous voices in his mind. He asked in agony, "Why did you come?"

These past few days, he had oscillated between lucidity and madness, ultimately succumbing to his demonic nature. He had captured Immortal Lord Ye Lin’s wife and daughter, forcing Ye Lin to write that letter to lure Song Qingshi out.

When he regained clarity, he noticed the flaw Ye Lin had left in the letter: the Underworld Ephemeral Flower had last bloomed forty-eight years ago. Song Qingshi could not possibly have mistaken such a detail and would surely deduce the trap.

An Long forcibly ignored the flaw.

The voice in his mind screamed incessantly, attempting to regain control of his body, ensuring that the tragedy of the past would repeat.

He didn't know how much longer he could hold on.

"You fool, are you still seeking death?!" An Long’s scales flickered into and out of existence, his sharp claws extending and retracting uncontrollably. He desperately wanted to kill the source of his pain, unable to control himself. He cursed, "Get lost! Don’t appear before me!"

Song Qingshi watched him calmly, his face devoid of expression:

"We are no longer friends, so there is no need for mercy."

"This time, I have come to kill you."