Ban Congshan’s expression didn’t ease in the slightest at Ban Shiyi’s words. His brow remained deeply furrowed as he spoke, “We’ve investigated for so long, yet we still haven’t found the mastermind behind all this. No solution in sight, either.”
“My life was given by Young Master. I would follow him through fire and water without hesitation… but I don’t want to die here without even knowing why.”
Ban Shiyi tried to reassure him. “Though we’ve yet to trace the origin of this mysterious illness, aside from that one incident where a few people died during the suppression, no one in town has died directly from it. Let’s wait a bit longer—we’ll find a solution.”
Ban Congshan was far less optimistic. “But sir, do you believe Elder Wang and his disciple can develop a cure? Or are you counting on those fledgling kids from the Guiyuan Sect to help?”
Ban Shiyi let out a long sigh. “They are young, yes, but each of them is a treasured future pillar of their sect—especially with His Venerable’s daughter among them. Guiyuan Sect would never allow any harm to come to them and would surely step in if things reached a critical point. But when that happens, it’s the Ban family—particularly the young master—who’ll bear the shame before the major sects.”
It was true: some time ago, Ban Shiyi had worried that everyone in Wulin Town, himself included, might die mysteriously here, but ever since the arrival of the Guiyuan group, he’d stopped worrying about that.
He never believed that those kids had the ability to solve this. What he really counted on were the elders behind them. Now, he was just waiting to see when those juniors would finally reach out to their sect for help.
Ban Shiyi had expected them to contact their sect within a couple of days. But after several subtle prods and hints, none of them had made a move.
Ban Congshan didn’t think highly of a group of inexperienced disciples who had just started out, but seeing Ban Shiyi so composed, he understood—after all, if there was a chance to live, no one wanted to die.
Regardless, those youngsters were likely able to remain fearless in the face of danger because they trusted their sect would rescue them at critical moments. This belief was widespread among the major sects: whenever a young disciple embarked on their first real training, there was always a senior disciple stationed nearby. Each elite disciple was a product of careful nurturing and a great amount of resources—losing even one was a cost the sects were unwilling to bear.
In earlier times, such precautions didn’t exist. Young cultivators set out on their own, unprotected. For centuries, devils made it a point to target these promising yet inexperienced younglings, leading to countless untimely deaths. Eventually, the sects wised up and began assigning seasoned disciples to covertly watch over the younger ones, turning it into an established tradition.
But unless the situation truly threatened life, these protectors rarely stepped in. That was why Lu Yaoyao had never considered asking for help—even now.
So Ban Shiyi and the others believe other Guiyuan Sect members are nearby? That the anomaly in Wulin Town has already been reported?
Is that really all? Lu Yaoyao couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that she’d missed something crucial.
Seeing that no more useful information could be gleaned from the study, Lu Yaoyao set her sights on Ban Shiyi’s adjacent bedroom. Circling around to the other side, she quietly pushed open a tightly shut window and slipped inside, landing soundlessly in the room.
Ban Shiyi’s bedroom was simple. A screen divided inner and outer sections, but there were no lavish decorations, just a single scroll painting on the wall and a fine vase in the corner.
Lu Yaoyao lifted the scroll but found no hidden compartments or secret doors. She carefully set it back into place, her eyes then falling on the vase. The small round table it rested on was taller than she was, so she used her spiritual aura to lift herself slightly off the ground. Just as she picked up the vase to inspect it—
She heard voices approaching.
In an instant, Lu Yaoyao quietly returned the vase, slipped out the window without a sound, and concealed herself in the shadowed crevice of a nearby rock garden. Ban Shiyi and Ban Congshan had finished their discussion and were leaving the study, exchanging a few words before Ban Congshan turned and walked away.
Ban Shiyi watched him go, but instead of returning to the study, he shut its door and headed toward his bedroom.
Lu Yaoyao eyed the study for a moment, then quietly followed Ban Congshan instead. He returned directly to his own courtyard next door, entered his room, and lay down on the bed, closing his eyes.
Lu Yaoyao crouched in hiding for a long while, but Ban Congshan remained motionless—utterly still, as if in a deep sleep.
The sense of dissonance in Lu Yaoyao’s heart only grew stronger. Something didn’t sit right, yet the clues she had were too few to make sense of it. In the end, it came down to her lack of experience. Still, Lu Yaoyao wasn’t disheartened; she firmly believed that sooner or later, she would find the crack in the facade.
Once she was sure Ban Congshan wouldn’t wake up, she quietly left. For the moment, she had nowhere else to investigate—she had already scoured every inch of this modestly sized town, and even searched the Ban Manor several times, all to no avail.
What had she missed?
She thought of the infected woman she’d seen the other day. Perhaps it was worth checking again. Last time, the woman could still move, though stiffly. Who knew what her condition was now?
Lu Yaoyao soon arrived and perched atop the courtyard wall. This time, the yard was eerily quiet—no sign of the woman. She slipped inside soundlessly. A salty, rancid stench clung to the air, the smell of a place long uncleaned and unventilated. It was clear the woman who could still walk last time had now collapsed as well.
Sure enough, in the inner room, Lu Yaoyao saw her lying on the bed, motionless. If not for the faint rise and fall of her chest…
Lu Yaoyao didn’t show herself. With a grave expression, she stood silently for a while, then quietly slipped away. She climbed the courtyard wall again, staring out at the gray, murky sky. Her heart felt heavier than ever.
This helplessness was unbearable. She lingered in that feeling for a moment, then quickly pulled herself together and prepared to continue investigating.
Just as she was about to leave, something flickered at the edge of her vision—a dark figure flitting past the corner of an alley.
Her body reacted faster than her mind, and she shot after it instantly.
Lu Yaoyao’s small figure darted through the alleys and streets. In no time, she had chased the shadow out of the town and into the Wulin mountain range. Unfortunately, shortly after entering the mountains, she completely lost sight of her target.
Hovered in mid-air above the treetops, Lu Yaoyao spread her spiritual sense in all directions, but not a single trace remained. She was sure she hadn’t imagined it—she’d definitely seen a shadowy figure. But it had moved too fast; she’d only caught a fleeting glimpse. She tried to recall its shape, but the silhouette had been so small and quick she couldn’t even tell if it had been human or not.
This was the first time after the investigation began Lu Yaoyao had come across something so blatantly suspicious. Her instincts told her it was a breakthrough, a crucial clue—but the speed and eerie nature of the shadow were beyond comprehension. Even her spiritual sense, which remained at the Golden Core level, couldn’t lock on to it.
While unwilling to give up, Lu Yaoyao’s wariness only grew. Clearly, the mastermind behind this was anything but ordinary—they would have to tread even more carefully. She wasn’t too worried about her companions for now. With the abundance of protective talismans she had given them, they wouldn’t lose their lives so easily. Her priority now was to find that shadowy figure.
The Wulin mountains at night were pitch black, especially the forest floor, which was shrouded in a thick foliage canopy, so dark one couldn’t even see their own hand. Lu Yaoyao couldn’t use her sight here and could only rely on her spiritual sense, sweeping inch by inch. She felt certain the creature was hiding somewhere in these woods.
As she darted through the treetops, sometimes leaping, sometimes plunging into the dense dark forest, she scanned much of the mountain range. After a long time, she was forced to admit it—she had completely lost track of the target. The shadow was gone.
The moon had risen high to its zenith; the full moon’s silver glow pierced through the heavy fog, casting a clear light on Lu Yaoyao’s hovering figure. She looked up at the sky, suddenly realizing—it was the fifteenth of the lunar month.
Time had passed so quickly. They’d spent so many days running through this fog-shrouded place, rarely seeing the sky. If not for this moonlight, she might have forgotten the date altogether.
It really was a full moon—even the thick fog had been pushed back…
‘Huh?’
Lu Yaoyao’s petite figure tensed instantly. She stared ahead. Moonlight filtered through the branches into the dense forest, and wherever it landed, the fog was… slowly gathering.
A chill rose from the soles of her feet. Lu Yaoyao’s face grew grave.
The fog wasn’t being driven away; it was condensing, moving deliberately toward the moonlit areas—as if it had a will of its own.
‘So that’s it… That’s it!’
They had scoured every corner of the town and combed through the mountains, yet they had overlooked the one thing that was present everywhere—
It wasn’t the Wustone.
It wasn’t the water.
It wasn’t the food…
It was the fog.
The source had finally been found—but Lu Yaoyao felt no joy.
That fog that lingered in the town and the mountains…no one could escape it. They had all been exposed without even knowing.
Because they couldn’t avoid breathing.
Even now, fog clung faintly to the air around her.
‘What on earth is this stuff?!’ Lu Yaoyao racked her brain. Raised under the guidance of her two fathers, she prided herself on her knowledge. Yet at this moment, she clearly realized—she was far from omniscient.
Just then, a sudden flash lit up in the distance, followed by a loud explosion.
‘Oh no!’
Lu Yaoyao’s expression changed drastically. In a flash, she sped back toward the town. That was the sign of an activated attack talisman—and like a signal, disturbances erupted in several directions.
In an instant, she reached the town’s outskirts. Vaulting over the inner wall without hesitation, she flew toward the direction of the flash.
Just as the tip of her foot landed on a rooftop, her forward momentum halted as she suddenly leaped backward. A dark shadow had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, smashing hard into the place she’d just been a second ago.
Lu Yaoyao drew her sword, landing on a rooftop several meters away. Once she got a clear look at the figure, her wary eyes froze, a strange sorrow surging in her chest.
The figure’s skin was bluish-black, the clear mark of a late-stage illness. But the once-bright, responsive eyes were now nearly overtaken by whites—only a slit pupil remained. Her previously stiff and immobile limbs had become terrifyingly agile.
It was someone she knew. The familiar face belonged to the woman she had spoken with several times. Not long ago, she had seen her bedridden and barely moving. She remembered the hope shining in that woman’s eyes—the respect she’d shown despite her youthful appearance, the fervent belief that she could save them…
And now, the woman had lost her mind, reduced to a creature that only knew how to attack—a monster.
Having missed her initial strike, the woman lunged again. Lu Yaoyao dodged once more. Couldn’t bring herself to attack the woman, she leaped across rooftops, widening the distance. But soon, ten more figures arrived to strike, and the woman merged seamlessly into the mob.
Lu Yaoyao had no choice but to draw her sword. Yet even her blade could only cut their toughened skin—it couldn’t do real damage. They had no minds, no pain, only relentless aggression. Worse still, each had astonishing defenses and agility. They were, plainly put, combat monsters.
While locked in combat, more and more dark figures crawled up from all directions.
Lu Yaoyao glanced around—this town, once eerily quiet, was now lively in the worst way.
From every alley and street, black shadows wrapped in thick fog surged forth.
For the first time, she saw just how many people this small town held. And now, every one of them had become… monsters. A grotesque swarm.
More joined the fight by the second. Lu Yaoyao, fighting solo against the mob, was soon hard-pressed. A few of the newly arrived ‘people’ were clearly on different levels altogether—giving her serious trouble.
What shocked her most was that these newcomers didn’t attack wildly like ordinary mobs. Their strikes were coordinated, practiced. This wasn’t instinct—it was training. That made her recall something: the woman had once said that before the outbreak, the Ban family had clashed with other cultivators still in town. They had been suppressed, and then the barrier had been activated. These “people” were likely those very cultivators—now transformed.
From their clothing, Lu Yaoyao couldn’t identify any sects. Probably wandering cultivators.
Because she didn’t dare strike to kill, she had been delayed—more and more surrounded her. The situation was growing dire. Though she could still manage, her companions might not be as fortunate.
Lu Yaoyao pressed her lips together, pulled an attack talisman from her pouch, waited for the right moment, and flung it at the weakest part of the encirclement.
Boom!
A path exploded open. With her agility, she instantly darted through the breach. Glancing back once at the figures wounded by the talisman, she didn’t hesitate again.
In the blink of an eye, she vanished into the distance.
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