Chapter 50
Que Qingyuan was right—Yu Mingjing’s recent actions have indeed become more frequent. He’s been acting with an unusual sense of urgency, as if he’s ready to risk it all without hesitation. It was inevitable that this day would come. With the blood curse inside Que Siming growing stronger, a final battle between them was destined. But what surprised them all was that the usually calm and elusive Yu Mingjing, who had relied on stealthy, guerilla tactics, was now the first to lose his composure.
If Que Siming was desperate to contain the blood curse within him and needed to capture Yu Mingjing as soon as possible, what exactly was driving Yu Mingjing’s urgency to obtain the Longevity Stone?
No matter how much they analyzed and speculated, they couldn’t figure it out. But given the stone’s powers and Yu Mingjing’s frantic behavior, it was surely a matter of life and death.
Whose life needed saving, however, was a mystery to them all.
Regardless, Yu Mingjing’s presence was a constant source of tension and anxiety. When they encountered him, Que Siming was practically powerless to fight back. Among their group, the only one capable of standing toe-to-toe with the masked man was Chief Steward Xiao. And on top of that, Yu Mingjing had the skilled Wu family soldiers, masters of sinister poisons, by his side. Their journey to Dali was fraught with danger.
At first, Que Siming wanted to travel alone, not wanting to drag the others into his troubles. But both Steward Xiao and Que Qingyuan insisted on not leaving him to face this threat on his own.
Meanwhile, far away at Dongting Lake, the Que family patriarch had received word of their whereabouts. Though furious with Que Siming’s stubbornness, his concern for their safety prompted him to lead his men out of Dongting Lake, pursuing them through the night.
After traveling for half a month, the group finally reached the edge of Qianzhong.
“Once we cross Dashi Mountain, there’s an official road from Qianzhong to Southern Yunnan. The journey will get easier from there. At most, four or five days, and we’ll be in Dali,” Steward Xiao said, pointing toward the towering mountain range not far off.
Que Qingyuan squinted, surveying the scene. They were at the foot of Dashi Mountain, and the sky was already dark. It would be unwise to attempt the climb tonight. “Uncle Xiao, let’s stay in this small town tonight. If we push ahead, there likely won’t be another village.”
Steward Xiao nodded. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.” He dismounted and ordered one of the men, “Find a clean inn and rent it out entirely. Look for one with fewer surrounding buildings, and clear out any unnecessary people inside.”
“Understood.”
Chief Steward Xiao turned his head. “First Young Master, Second Young Master, we’ll make do here for the night. We’ll cross the mountain early tomorrow.”
Que Qingyuan glanced at Que Siming with a questioning look.
Que Siming nodded silently, then stared at the mountain ahead, lost in thought.
He remembered how both times he and Xiaohu were ambushed, it was in the mountains. It seemed like wherever there were mountains, trouble followed them.
But it was precisely because they had escaped death twice, relying on each other for survival, that Xiaohu went from avoiding him like the plague to slowly considering him as one of his own.
They had faced perilous situations multiple times, yet Xiaohu never abandoned him. If it weren’t for Xiaohu, he would’ve fallen into Yu Mingjing’s hands long ago, and who knows what would have become of him.
Along the way, his mind had calmed significantly. The feverish rage that clouded his judgment had cooled down. He began to reflect, replaying in his head what Xiaohu had said that day.
Xiaohu had told him there was something he couldn’t explain, something he couldn’t say, no matter what.
At the time, he didn’t believe a word of it. First, Xiaohu was caught naked in bed with Lou Jingyu, then for no reason, he took his senior brother out of Medicine Valley, and finally, he went to steal the Longevity Stone. Any one of those things would’ve been enough to drive him mad, but Xiaohu did them all. How could he believe him? Back then, he was consumed by the humiliation and fury of being betrayed. He only wanted to hurt Xiaohu in the most vicious way possible, as if that was the only way to ease the pain.
But now, he started doubting. After all the time they spent together, Xiaohu was almost childishly simple—incapable of lying or hiding anything. His emotions, whether joy or anger, were always on full display. Could someone like that really have done all those things?
Was it possible that Xiaohu really had some unspeakable secret, being used or threatened by Yu Mingjing or Lou Jingyu?
But why didn’t he say anything? No matter what the situation was, Que Siming would have fought tooth and nail to protect him. Yet Xiaohu didn’t offer a single explanation—how could he trust him? Trust what?
A weight seemed to press down on his heart, the heavy feeling tormenting him day and night. Only by seeing Xiaohu again, and soon, could he hope for any kind of release.
In the middle of the night, Que Siming started to toss and turn in bed, overwhelmed with discomfort. One moment, he felt as though he was plunged into icy water, and the next, as if his entire body was being scorched by flames. His blood flowed through his veins in a strange, wild way, rushing through him, roaring, agitating, as if it was being drawn somewhere. It wasn’t exactly painful, but the discomfort was so unbearable it made him want to bash his head against the wall.
It was as if… as if someone was manipulating his blood… controlling his very…
Que Siming’s eyes snapped open. He flipped over and sat up on the bed.
This feeling… Yu Mingjing!
There was an unusual scent in the air. Though faint, he could still smell it.
His heart sank. Something was wrong. He quickly threw on his clothes and dashed out of the door.
The guards on night watch had already collapsed, unconscious.
“Senior Brother! Uncle Xiao!”
Que Siming rushed into Que Qingyuan’s room. Que Qingyuan jolted awake and sat up in bed, his eyes still blurry. “Siming?”
Que Siming asked anxiously, “Are you okay?”
Que Qingyuan shook his head to clear it, his nose twitching slightly. “This is the scent of the Soul-Reaping Incense… could it be Yu Mingjing?”
Que Siming grabbed Qingyuan’s clothes and started dressing him. “Get up quickly, we need to go.”
At that moment, Steward Xiao also rushed in, his face full of urgency. “This Soul-Reaping Incense is really powerful. Anyone without enough cultivation passed out. Second Young Master, you carry the First Young Master, and I’ll escort you both.”
Que Siming pressed a hand to his chest, his face drained of all color. “No need. He’s here.”
Yu Mingjing still looked pale and gaunt, with prominent dark circles under his eyes. In the glow of the firelight, he seemed almost lifeless, far from his former ethereal appearance. Now, he looked unnaturally frail.
He spoke, his tone carrying an unmistakable weariness, “You won’t escape again today. After all these years of struggle between us, I’m tired too. Hand over the Longevity Stone, and I’ll use my blood to draw the parasite from your body. Let’s end this.”
Que Siming sneered, “The Longevity Stone isn’t with me, and even if it were, I wouldn’t give it to you. Between you and me, only one of us will leave here alive.”
Yu Mingjing sighed and shook his head. “I had hoped to spare you…”
Before he could finish speaking, Que Siming had already transformed into a blur, appearing in front of Yu Mingjing in an instant. But this time, his target wasn’t Yu Mingjing—it was the masked figure standing nearby, General Yue Yinggui.
Que Siming just wanted to buy time. Before Yu Mingjing could control him, he needed to subdue the masked figure. If he could defeat this person, Steward Xiao and the others might be able to capture Yu Mingjing.
He also had another plan in mind: to tear the cloth from the masked man’s face. Last time, this person had let them go, but whether he was friend or foe was still unclear.
The two sides clashed, and Yu Mingjing moved to the back of the battlefield, emotionlessly watching the struggle. If you didn’t look closely, you wouldn’t notice the beads of sweat forming on his forehead or the slight trembling of his hands hidden in his sleeves.
What surprised Que Siming was that, apart from the slight agitation of the parasite in his body reacting to the mother parasite’s presence, Yu Mingjing hadn’t activated the blood curse this time. Was he too confident in his masked guard?
Although Que Siming’s heart was unwilling, he dared not be careless against this opponent. After exchanging hundreds of moves, he realized he wasn’t this person’s match.
The brilliance of the Ghost Hand technique lay in its ruthlessness, precision, and speed. It was a claw technique that could injure with just a touch. As a child, Que Siming had found it too dirty and refused to learn it, instead creating his own technique using silver needles so he wouldn’t have to touch others directly. However, against true masters, only the Ghost Hand could hold its ground. This deadly and profound martial art, combined with the Que family’s medical skills, was famous throughout the martial world.
But the skill of this masked man was incredibly mysterious. The longer the fight dragged on, the more exhausted Que Siming became. His defenses began to falter, and he retreated repeatedly.
Que Siming had been exceptionally talented from a young age. Whether in academics or martial arts, he had a high aptitude. Among the younger generation of the martial world, he considered himself second to none. There were only a handful of elders with his master’s level of skill. So who was this top-tier expert who had suddenly appeared?
Distracted for a moment, Que Siming took a palm strike to the chest from the masked man. His vision blurred, and he flew several meters back, landing heavily on the ground. He quickly jumped back to his feet, while Steward Xiao immediately stepped in with his sword to confront the masked man.
Clutching his chest, which throbbed with pain, Que Siming spat out a mouthful of blood and launched himself back at the masked figure.
Even with their combined assault, the masked man remained calm and composed, easily deflecting each of their attacks.
At this point, Que Siming noticed that Steward Xiao’s behavior was strange. Rather than attacking, he seemed to be circling the masked man, probing him. While Que Siming aimed for lethal strikes, Steward Xiao seemed more like he was sparring with the man.
Que Siming was quite perplexed. He watched as Yu Mingjing hid behind, unsure of what he was scheming. A wave of panic surged through his heart, fearing that Yu would suddenly strike, leaving him at his mercy. Yet, at this crucial moment, Uncle Xiao was wasting time. Unable to hold back, Que Siming shouted, “Uncle Xiao, what the hell are you doing?”
Steward Xiao didn’t respond, only letting out a soft sigh as his moves grew increasingly fierce.
The Que family had already been incapacitated by Yu Mingjing’s “Soul Fragrance,” leaving most of them out of commission. Now, facing the Wu clan members, they stood no chance, and within moments, nearly all were defeated.
Steward Xiao, seeing Que Qingyuan sitting helplessly inside the inn as the guards in front of him fell one by one, could no longer pay attention to Que Siming. He turned and lunged towards the attackers who were charging into the inn.
With Steward Xiao gone, Que Siming found himself even less of a match for the masked man, forced into retreat step by step as more injuries accumulated on his body, his clothes now soaked in blood.
The masked man, however, had only suffered minor wounds, which hardly affected his speed. His eyes were chillingly cold, devoid of any warmth, and he killed with the casual ease of slicing tofu.
Seeing the sharp blade approaching, Que Siming found himself unable to dodge and could only watch in horror as the sword came closer, ready to pierce his chest.
“General—!” Suddenly, a loud shout echoed through the sky. Steward Xiao’s powerful inner strength made the two words reverberate like a great bell, ringing in everyone’s ears.
The masked man’s movements visibly paused. Que Siming, snapping out of his daze, seized the moment to roll to the ground, barely dodging the blade.
Yu Mingjing’s expression changed drastically as he urgently shouted, “Capture him!”
Steward Xiao, seeing that the Que family was no longer able to hold out and that continuing the fight would lead to their total capture, decided to take a gamble. To his surprise, the masked man actually responded. This further confirmed his and the old master’s suspicions. He continued shouting, “General! Are you General Yue?”
Just as Que Siming regained his footing, he froze as if struck by lightning. His eyes widened, staring at the stiff figure wrapped in black cloth with only the eyes visible.
Steward Xiao urgently shouted, “General, have you been controlled by this treacherous man, Yu Mingjing? He is your son, Yue Siming! Don’t you remember? I am Xiao Qi, do you remember me, General?”
Yu Mingjing roared, “Kill him!”
Yue Yinggui’s body trembled uncontrollably as he held his sword, slowly advancing toward Steward Xiao. His movements were sluggish, cold sweat pouring down his forehead, clearly struggling internally.
Que Siming, on the other hand, was rendered speechless. He felt as if the world around him had suddenly lost all color, his mind buzzing, everything before his eyes becoming surreal. How could he have heard such nonsense—General Yue? His father had been dead for thirteen years.
Suddenly, he leaped from the ground, letting out a roar as he lunged at Yue Yinggui, reaching out to tear off the black cloth covering his face.
Just as he was about to touch the masked man, Que’s body convulsed violently. The parasite inside him had been activated. Midair, his body lost balance, crashing heavily to the ground. His blood felt like it was on fire, his fingers clawing deeply into the earth as he desperately fought against the overpowering force controlling him.
He and Yue Yinggui, one standing and one kneeling, both had pale, sweat-drenched faces. Their bodies were rigid, trembling as they struggled against their respective inner torments.
Yu Mingjing was also in immense pain, his body shaking like a withered leaf in the wind, his eyes bloodshot. Suddenly, his figure swayed, and he spat out a large mouthful of fresh blood, staining his white clothes a shocking red. He would have collapsed if not for the support of the Wu family guards beside him.
He muttered a low command, “Retreat.”
It was as if Yue Yinggui suddenly regained his senses, as if his soul had returned to his body. He snapped awake, turned without hesitation, and rushed to Yu Mingjing’s side. He scooped him up and, without looking back, sped away with the Wu clan’s forces.
The Que family members were too exhausted to pursue. Que Siming’s entire body convulsed as he knelt, his eyes bloodshot as he watched them disappear. In the end, his vision went black, and he lost consciousness.
