Fang Songhe was a good man. In the story, he sacrificed himself for the sake of the main couple, so he probably wouldn’t die in this cave that wasn’t even mentioned in the plot.
But Fang Songhe wasn’t the protagonist—he didn’t have the protagonist’s halo. What if the plot deviated, and he ended up dying here?
In fact, as Chu'he watched the increasingly dense clusters of dark, sinister plants, she began to suspect that she might not make it out either.
Cautiously, she pulled out a handkerchief and covered her nose and mouth.
Ninth tugged at the corner of her handkerchief. "What are you doing?"
Chu'he pushed his hand away in annoyance. "I’m preventing myself from inhaling something bad and getting tricked by you again!"
Ninth seemed to have already forgotten the incident where she wiped the rouge from the corner of his lips. His expression was calm and unruffled, as if he had never done anything wrong.
Song Tingxue’s expression was grave. Even now, they still had no idea who had kidnapped Zhao Rongyue. This cave was so dangerous, and Zhao Rongyue was just a defenseless woman—how could she possibly escape unscathed?
Suddenly, two branching paths appeared before them, both equally dim and treacherous.
Chu'he asked, "Which way should we go?"
Song Tingxue looked at Ninth. "Do you have a way to determine which direction the person we’re looking for is in?"
Ninth tilted his head slightly, his eyelashes fluttering. "No."
Chu'he pressed, "What about that little tracking insect? Can’t we use it?"
"The floral scent here is overpowering—it’s masking their scent."
Song Tingxue’s face fell, but he quickly rallied. "Then let’s split up. It’ll save time and help us find clues faster. What do you think, Miss Chu?"
After spending some time together, Song Tingxue had noticed the peculiar dynamic between Chu'he and Ninth. There was no doubt that Ninth was nearly unmatched in combat, yet Chu'he, who had no fighting skills whatsoever, was the one who held the reins.
Ninth didn’t act on whims or preferences—his every move was tied to Chu'he.
After a moment’s thought, Chu'he nodded. "Let’s do as Mister Song suggests."
The two paths stretched ahead, their dangers unknown. Song Tingxue chose the left path and went ahead first.
Chu'he followed Ninth into the right passage.
The walls were covered in eerie purple flowers, their unnaturally vibrant life sustained by feeding on the vitality of young women.
Chu'he was tense, but Ninth strolled leisurely, as if taking a casual walk.
Remembering his earlier words, she tugged at his hand and asked, "Ninth, you said these flowers feed on flesh but also preserve it from decay. Someone planted these flowers from the Southern Border so densely here—could it be to preserve something?"
Ninth chuckled softly. "Who knows?"
The moment she saw that smile, Chu'he grew suspicious. With all his tricks, he probably already knew something but deliberately kept her in the dark, finding amusement in watching her struggle.
Chu'he’s imagination ran wild. "Is someone trying to prolong their life using these flowers? Like in those stories where villains seek immortality?"
Immortality—that was surely a goal many pursued.
Ninth’s lips curled into a faint smile. "If you want immortality, these flowers alone won’t do."
Chu'he froze. "So… there really is a way to achieve immortality?"
Ninth lifted his gaze, his tone light and airy. "Who knows?"
A long-forgotten plotline resurfaced in Chu'he’s mind.
No one knew the name of the great villain—only that his name was a cursed poison. Some said that speaking his name would bind the victim to the poison, haunting them for eternity with no escape.
But that was just a legend. How could simply uttering a name cause poisoning? That was too far-fetched.
Yet the reason he was the great villain was his ruthless pursuit of immortality. For his own selfish desires, he committed every atrocity—murder, arson, unspeakable crimes.
Through his actions alone, he forced the main couple into a tragic ending.
The original story mentioned that the great villain hailed from the mysterious Miaojiang region and wielded poison with deadly skill.
Unconsciously, Chu'he lifted her gaze, studying Ninth’s profile.
The young man’s features were exquisitely beautiful. Though his snow-white hair and deathly pale complexion gave him an otherworldly, sinister aura, there was an odd allure to him.
As the saying went—the more beautiful something was, the more dangerous.
Suddenly, he lowered his eyes, meeting her lingering stare. Chu'he felt as if she had been set ablaze by a spark.
With a gentle smile, he asked, "Want a kiss?"
Chu'he: "…Huh?"
"You’ve been staring at me for so long." His gaze was pure, untouched by worldly desires. "Or do you prefer the kind where I open my mouth?"
Vaguely, an image flashed in Chu'he’s mind—her cupping his face, pressing her lips to his, their breaths mingling. Her face burned, her entire body flushing with heat.
Covering her scorching cheeks, she turned away, her heart in chaos.
What had come over her back then?
Had she lost her mind?!
Ninth shifted closer, tugging lightly at one of her braids. "I’m so good-looking—don’t you want to kiss me?"
His awareness of his own "good looks" was entirely thanks to Chu'he.
She turned her face further away. "It’s so dark here, I can’t see anything. How would I know if you’re good-looking or not?"
She was lying. Though dim, the faint purple glow from the flowers provided just enough light.
Ninth’s eyes gleamed as he pulled out a small cloth pouch and placed it in her hand. "Netherworms. For you to play with."
"Master Ninth! Miss Chu!"
Song Tingxue came running from behind, injured—blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and he clutched his chest, his steps unsteady.
"That way is dangerous!"
As he sprinted toward them with all his might, something shifted in his eyes.
In an instant, Ninth’s expression turned sharp. He spun in front of Chu'he, his short flute clashing against a suddenly lunging sword with a piercing screech.
At the same time, the surrounding plants stirred ominously.
Seeing vines lash toward Ninth, Chu'he frantically pushed him aside. "Watch out!"
In the next moment, the vines, now without a target, coiled around her waist instead. In the blink of an eye, she was yanked backward by an immense force.
But just as quickly, a small green snake darted out from somewhere, its venom corroding the vines instantly.
Chu'he fell to the ground, only for the rocks beneath her to crumble. The fissures spread rapidly, and she plummeted into the pitch-black abyss below.
As her body lost balance from the weightless sensation, all she could see was endless darkness—until a flash of crimson robes and snow-white hair descended like a blizzard, carrying a strangely comforting chill.
Someone caught her in a one-armed embrace. Amid the relentless fall, she heard a harsh scraping sound—something was digging into the stone walls, slowing their descent until they finally came to a stop.
Chu'he's heart leaped into her throat. "Ninth?"
"I'm here."
The arm wrapped around her pulled her closer as the young man said, "Hold on tight."
Chu'he encircled his neck, her keen senses immediately catching the pungent scent of blood. Warm droplets splattered onto her cheeks, sending a shiver down her spine.
"You're hurt!"
Ninth's tone was light. "Just a scratch."
The cloth bundle in Chu'he's hands unfurled, releasing a swarm of luminous insects. Their eerie blue glow faintly illuminated their surroundings.
His hand, embedded in the stone wall, left a trail of blood as it slid downward. The flesh had been scraped raw against the rock, exposing white bone, while his forearm was a mangled, gruesome sight.
Chu'he had always been terrified of such bloody scenes, yet now, an inexplicable emotion overshadowed her fear.
She lifted her face, staring at him in disbelief. "This… is just a scratch?"
Ninth tilted his head slightly, his voice soft yet brimming with smugness. "Still alive, aren’t I?"
Chu'he felt a lump form in her throat.
She didn’t want to burden Ninth any longer. Spotting a ledge on the wall, she stepped onto it and released her grip on him—only for him to pull her back instantly.
Ninth asked, "What are you doing?"
Chu'he shot back, "Trying not to drag you down!"
He blinked and let go.
Freed from his embrace, Chu'he clung desperately to the rock face, turning to look at him. "Ninth, your hand—"
In the blink of an eye, his body went limp, plummeting downward. The jingling of bells echoed like a death knell.
Before her mind could process it, her body moved on its own. Her outstretched hand caught only a scrap of his sleeve—just a scrap—before the sensation of falling seized her again. A sob tore from her throat.
"Ninth!"
The distance was short. With a thud, Ninth's body hit the ground, and Chu'he landed atop him, unharmed.
As she regained her senses, her fingers brushed solid earth. Lifting her head in the glow of the insects, she met the young man’s breathtaking, smiling face.
In an instant, she realized she’d been tricked.
She scrambled upright, tears and fury mingling. "Are you insane!?"
For that one heart-stopping moment, she had truly believed he was dying.
Chu'he wanted to punch him. Her emotions were too raw, and she nearly stumbled—but Ninth, lying on the cold, rubble-strewn ground, steadied her with his uninjured hand.
His other hand, mangled and bone-exposed, brushed her tear-streaked, dust-covered cheek. The sticky sensation of blood and flesh smeared her already disheveled face into something worse.
The silver-haired youth grinned, his laughter bright and unrestrained, cutting through the murky, frigid air like a spark that made hearts leap in reckless joy.
Chu'he's sobs quieted, her voice thick. "Are you out of your mind?"
Ninth repeated his infuriating line: "Who knows?"
He was no better off—covered in grime, his moonlit hair now dulled like tarnished silver. Yet somehow, he seemed even paler, his lips redder, his beauty almost dangerously alluring.
"Chu'he," he murmured, adopting the coaxing tone she’d once taught him. His clear eyes gleamed with quiet longing. "I’m in pain. Hold me, won’t you?"
Chu'he froze, as if reason had deserted her. All she wanted was to grant his every wish.
She bent down, crushing him in a tight embrace, her face buried in the crook of his neck. A fresh wave of tears burst forth.
Ninth’s twisted, ruined hand patted her back lazily. "Was it really so hard to just hug me?"
"You have no idea!"
Chu'he’s muffled cry dissolved into hiccupping sobs as she curled deeper into his arms.
She knew—she was done for.
