The scent of blood permeated the air, mingling with the wind as severed limbs and mangled flesh littered the ground.
The moment Lan Yingying saw Chu'he, who should have sunk into the depths of the water, her shock was palpable. But she quickly regained her composure—she had to capture Chu'he to exchange for Song Chunming’s safety.
Yet one misstep led to another.
She had assumed that with Chu'he gone, Song Chunming would be safe, but instead, she had only brought him greater danger.
She had thought Chu'he was weak and defenseless, easy to control, but she hadn’t anticipated the hidden strength Chu'he possessed.
She had believed Ninth wouldn’t arrive so quickly, giving her leverage to manipulate him, allowing her to take Song Chunming to a new place for a fresh start. But Ninth had come far sooner than expected.
Her assumptions, in this blood-soaked world, had culminated in the most brutal massacre.
Lan Yingying’s leg had already been crushed, one of her eyes gouged out. The pain had numbed her, but when she met the boy’s smiling gaze, an icy dread seeped into her battered body.
A single leg and eye weren’t enough—he wanted to torment her further before ending her life.
Lan Yingying felt true terror for the first time. With both hands pressed against the ground, she instinctively dragged herself backward, leaving a long trail of blood in her wake.
The white-haired, red-clad boy moved like a ghost, each step splashing through the blood, the sticky sound sending chills down the spine.
His eyes, tinged with crimson, flickered faintly with each step, as if stained by a dark, spreading red.
Watching the scene unfold, Chu'he was abruptly reminded of the original story’s plot.
In the novel’s ending, the great villain had crippled the heroine, killed the hero, and then, with a bored "How dull," leaped into the Gu poison pool, devoured alive by thousands of venomous insects.
Now, Lan Yingying had been mutilated just like in the original plot. Though everything had diverged, certain events seemed to be aligning back with fate.
Did that mean the great villain would one day throw himself into the Gu pool as well?
Chu'he suddenly lifted her gaze to Ninth.
"You made A'He’s heart ache," the boy said, his smile pure and innocent as he advanced toward the fallen woman. "So, you’ll have to repay her with another heart."
Lan Yingying’s nails scraped against the rough ground, her palms shredded by sharp stones, but she ignored the pain, her vision filled only with the approaching red figure.
Each of his steps felt like a crushing weight on her strained heart, tightening her throat until even screams were stifled, leaving only ragged gasps.
Finally, Ninth raised a hand.
"Yingying!"
Song Chunming, his own bones broken in many places, stumbled forward, disregarding his injuries as he threw himself over Lan Yingying’s frail body, shielding her from the frenzied swarm of Gu insects.
"Chunming!"
Song Tieniu rushed in as well, placing himself between Song Chunming and the danger.
"Wait, Hero Fang!"
Chu'he patted the half-man-tall toad beside her, and with a hop, it carried her in front of Fang Songhe.
Behind her stood Song Tieniu.
Behind Song Tieniu was Song Chunming.
Behind Song Chunming lay Lan Yingying.
The scene had become bizarre.
Ninth’s eyelid twitched. "A'He, come here."
Chu'he replied, "Hero Fang helped us. You can’t harm him."
Song Tieniu, moved by Chu'he’s protection, murmured, "Miss Chu..."
Ninth strode forward, expression cold, and with a kick, sent Song Tieniu flying into a distant tree.
A single glance from him was enough—the toad immediately understood, hopping away with Chu'he on its back.
Now, only the man and woman remained.
One surnamed Song, the other deceitful.
He had long wanted them dead.
With each step, the rustling of unseen things accompanied him, the overwhelming killing intent surging forth.
Lan Yingying weakly pushed at Song Chunming. "Run!"
"No! I won’t leave you!"
Tears mixed with blood as Lan Yingying sobbed, her appearance far more wretched than Chu'he’s had ever been. She couldn’t let Song Chunming die.
Lifting her blood-streaked face, she hissed, "You forced this!"
The vial she had clutched for so long was finally uncorked. Green liquid seeped into the earth, awakening the dormant Youluo flowers whose roots had long spread beneath the village.
Black vines and purple blossoms burst from the ground, writhing like living things as they rapidly expanded. Thorns lined the vines, scraping against bloodstains with eerie whispers, weaving into an impenetrable net.
Layer upon layer of purple Youluo flowers bloomed, their petals edged with an eerie silver glow. Sticky nectar dripped from their centers, sizzling against the blood and releasing violet smoke.
Ninth’s first instinct was to reach Chu'he. He lunged toward her, hand outstretched—but the moment the fragrant mist touched his nose, she vanished before his eyes.
Even if people stood close, the mist made them feel worlds apart, each trapped in an unseen prison of fog.
Song Chunming stared in shock at the chaos. "What is this?"
"This is Piaomiao incense, taken from that man. Combined with the sixty-year-old Youluo flowers, it creates a mist that ensnares even the greatest warriors. Lost in its illusions, they’ll make the wrong choices and perish within."
Song Chunming asked, "Choices... what choices?"
Lan Yingying shook her head. "The illusions were his creation. I don’t know what lies within."
Song Chunming paled. "But my brother is still in there!"
Lan Yingying lied, "He’ll be fine. The mist doesn’t affect good people."
She had no idea what horrors awaited those trapped inside. Given that man’s sadistic whims, the illusions would surely be the most terrifying, soul-crushing torment imaginable.
But the terror Ninth had instilled in her was too deep—he could emerge at any moment.
Gripping Song Chunming’s arm, she urged, "There’s only one way we survive now. We must find that child—Chongyang!"
Surrounded by swirling violet mist, its sweet fragrance thick in the air, no matter which way they turned, there was no sign of an exit.
"Ninth! Ninth!"
"Hero Fang... Song Tieniu! Brother Song!"
Chu'he called out, but no one answered. Only the toad hopped beside her, and a small green snake coiled on her shoulder like a loyal guardian.
Then, slowly, the sound of water reached her.
A river materialized, its surface parting as a white-bearded elder emerged, waving his hand to suspend three axes midair.
The old man smiled warmly and asked, "Young friend, here we have a golden axe, a silver axe, and an iron axe. Tell me, which one did you drop?"
