"It's rare to come across such high-quality 'insect feed.' Let's see which of you poison-bred warriors can claim her as the mother vessel."
With those words, the heavy thud of something hitting the ground echoed, followed by the metallic clang of a lock sealing the iron door shut, cutting off the last sliver of light.
Soon, the burlap sack shifted, and a girl wriggled her way out, peering around with wide eyes.
The dimly lit basement was damp, the air thick with the nauseating stench of blood that refused to fade.
Chu'he's face fell instantly.
[System, I have a feeling… the task you gave me is impossible.]
[Host, if you put in the effort, there’s still a decent chance of success.]
[How decent?]
The genderless mechanical voice replied: [Based on calculations, approximately a 0.03% probability.]
Chu'he wanted to bang her head against the wall and just end it all right then and there.
But with her hands and feet bound, even writhing like a worm was a struggle.
In the suffocating silence, faint rustling noises gradually emerged.
Chu'he squinted into the darkness—only to recoil in horror at the sight of snakes, insects, rats, and other vermin crawling across the floor. Then, from the shadowy corners, pairs of glowing red eyes flickered to life, predatory and ravenous, as if eager to devour her whole. She wanted to cry but had no tears left.
Chu'he scrambled backward until her back hit the cold, unyielding wall, but the chilling presence surrounding her still made her scalp prickle.
[System, think of something fast, or I’m really going to be eaten alive!]
The system corrected her, [Not "them"—just "it."]
As if to prove the system right, a wave of metallic bloodlust flooded the already stifling air.
The sounds of flesh tearing and creatures feasting rose and fell in a grotesque symphony. The swarm of venomous creatures wasn’t advancing toward Chu'he—instead, they were turning on each other in a frenzied battle.
No, they were obeying the commands of their respective poison-bred masters.
Only the last one standing would earn the right to claim the rare mother vessel.
So it would be "it," not "them."
Chu'he squeezed her eyes shut in despair.
A few days ago, she had been abruptly snatched, stuffed into a sack, and hauled all the way to Miaojiang after a jolting carriage ride. At some point, she’d hit her head—and in that moment, a so-called "system" had suddenly awakened in her mind.
[I was supposed to establish a connection with you the moment you were reborn into this world, but due to a signal error, I only just managed to reach you. No big deal.]
No, it was a very big deal!
Trapped in that sack, Chu'he had finally remembered—she had transmigrated into a novel.
In this world where demons ran rampant and dark arts flourished, a faction of righteous warriors had risen to vanquish evil.
The male lead was a prodigy among them, a shining star—until a demon-slaying mission went awry. He fell from a cliff, grievously wounded, and vanished without a trace.
Fortunately, the kind-hearted female lead found and saved him, nursing him back to health.
But when he awoke, his memories were gone. Lost and confused, he settled into a simple, ordinary life with the sweet and gentle female lead.
Naturally, sparks flew between them over time.
The problem? The male lead had an official fiancée—a woman who, upon learning of his disappearance, abandoned everything to search for him. After countless hardships, she finally reunited with him, only to discover that the amnesiac man had fallen for the female lead.
Heartbroken and resentful, the fiancée turned to the dark side.
She became ruthless, even striking a deal with the story’s ultimate villain, plotting to kill the female lead and reclaim the male lead.
Her ending, of course, was far from happy.
She was thrown into a pit of venomous insects, her body never to be found.
After seventeen years of living it up in this world, Chu'he had finally realized—she was that doomed cannon fodder.
The sounds of slaughter grew quieter, signaling that the final victor was about to emerge.
Goosebumps erupted across Chu'he’s skin. [I don’t remember this part in the original plot! Me ending up in Miaojiang was never mentioned!]
The system replied: [Well, it all started when you took the right fork in the road that day.]
Had she chosen the left path instead, she wouldn’t have crossed paths with the Witchcraft and Gu Sorcery Sect. Without their interference, she wouldn’t have been dragged to Miaojiang and left to rot in this nightmare.
Chu'he had heard of the Witchcraft and Gu Sorcery Sect.
They commanded venomous insects, wielded dark curses, and killed without a trace. Those who crossed them usually ended up as little more than bones—if that.
As for the "poison-bred warriors," they were humans raised on a diet of toxins and venom from infancy. Their bodies were poison incarnate, their humanity eroded by endless bloodshed and brutality.
By the time their gu sorcery reached its peak, they were no longer "human."
Emotions, memories—everything that made them people was gone. Their sole purpose was to become the strongest vessel, a weapon for the Witchcraft and Gu Sorcery Sect to wield.
And a high-quality mother vessel like Chu'he? She was a rare treasure that could amplify their power.
In other words, to these poison-bred warriors, she was a prime cut of meat.
[System, hurry up and do something! If I die here, I won’t be able to complete your so-called "save the world" mission!]
Soon, this world would collapse and vanish.
The root of the problem? The story’s ultimate villain—a deranged man who, after slaughtering the male and female leads, found everything dull and meaningless.
With a bored "How tedious," he leaped into a pit of venomous insects and ended his own life.
[Signal… unstable… host… on your… own.]
After a burst of static, the system’s voice cut out entirely.
Before Chu'he could even curse the useless system, the battlefield fell silent—and an icy, lethal aura enveloped her from all sides.
A blood-drenched figure emerged.
Chu'he curled into herself, trembling from the cold.
Tall and imposing, every inch of him was stained crimson. With each step he took over the carnage, the soft drip of blood echoed.
Drops fell from his fingertips, rippling across the blood-soaked ground like macabre petals.
In the gloom, only his unnaturally red eyes were visible, along with strands of snow-white hair—untouched by the gore—trailing down to his ankles.
Bloodied robes, pale hair, a face smeared with filth—he was a demon straight from hell.
He stopped before her, motionless, as if already dead.
From the shadows, skittering noises resumed. Out of the corner of her eye, Chu'he saw the venomous creatures he controlled inching toward her.
Beneath that shock of white hair, his lips curled into a grin, revealing a mouth full of teeth.
A mocking voice slithered out.
"The perfect gu-refining material… is mine."
At the same time, his bloodied hand reached for her, slow and deliberate.
Chu'he clenched her teeth, shut her eyes, and blurted out:
"You can’t kill me! We’ve already slept together—I might be carrying your child! If you kill me now, it’ll be two lives on your hands!"
Everything froze.
The swarm of insects halted as if hitting an invisible barrier, stopped dead in their tracks.
The blood-stained hand hovered before her forehead, yet did not advance further.
Chu'he waited a moment, then slowly cracked open her tightly shut eyes. A droplet of blood fell onto her cheek with a soft drip, blooming like a delicate flower.
A perfected Gu vessel would lose all human emotions and memories—only then could they serve the Witchcraft and Gu Sorcery Sect without attachment.
Since this vessel had survived the slaughter until the end, his prowess was undeniable. He must have already reached that state of "perfection."
When Chu'he saw him freeze, her eyes nearly welled with tears. She had gambled… and won.
Suddenly, a cold sensation slithered over her hand. A small green snake darted onto her wrist, coiling tightly around her pulse. Its triangular head poised above her throbbing vein, venomous fangs bared. Her scalp prickled, but she dared not move.
The shadowed figure chuckled. "What did you mean by your words?"
Chu'he guessed the serpent was a lie detector. One false word, and it would sink its fangs into her.
She took a deep breath, then blurted out in one go:
"I ran away from home to find my betrothed. We were childhood sweethearts, pledged since youth. But after an accident, he vanished without a trace. I feared we’d never meet again, so I searched endlessly—until recently, when I learned the truth. He’d lost his memories. That’s why he never returned."
The snake flicked its tongue, retracted its fangs, and slithered down her arm. It returned to the blood-drenched figure, winding around his wrist instead.
Her words were true.
Chu'he still couldn’t bring herself to look at the venomous serpent coiled around him. Terror gnawed at her—would she become just another corpse littering the ground?
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.
Her heart thrashed like fish in a frying pan.
Then, in an instant, the ropes binding her limbs rotted away, crumbling to dust.
The bloodied hand withdrew.
