Watching the Mountain

Chapter 223: Chapter 153: The Choice (Part 2)

’The custom Cultivation Technique I taught her is incredibly simple. If she still manages to mess up and injure herself while practicing, then she really is a bit too foolish. I’ll just have to bring her back and teach her myself, step-by-step.’

"Master, I’m sorry. I deceived you. Ling’er isn’t in seclusion cultivating. Something happened here. Ling’er wouldn’t let me contact you. I have no other choice now, so I snuck away to send you this message."

Xu Ran was startled by his words, and a bad feeling welled up inside him.

He had always thought Jiang Xiaohui was very reliable. With him around, he didn’t have to worry too much about his student, Jiang Ling’er.

However, he had never anticipated a situation where Jiang Ling’er would ask Jiang Xiaohui to lie to him.

’In his mind, the innocent and naive Jiang Ling’er wouldn’t even lie herself, let alone ask Jiang Xiaohui to help her do so.’

"I snuck away. Ling’er can’t find out. Time is short. I’ve sent you the memory images. See for yourself."

"Ling’er is recuperating right now. It’s estimated she’ll recover in about a month. She plans to go fight those people to the death after she’s healed. I don’t think she’s any match for them, which is why I contacted you."

"Master, the people of the Dog Race can’t be trusted! Among everyone I know, you’re the only one I can turn to. Please, I’m begging you, save Ling’er! As long as Ling’er is okay, I’ll do anything you ask! WOOF WOOF!"

Jiang Xiaohui barked twice in agitation, then, as if sensing some movement, hastily cut off the connection.

Xu Ran’s expression changed. He formed a series of Finger Formulas with his hand and received the memory images Jiang Xiaohui had sent.

It was on the Dog Race’s territory, in a dimly lit room. Jiang Ling’er was holding the faintly breathing Jiang Xiaohui, large tears rolling down her cheeks, impossible to wipe away.

"Xiaohui, wake up... Don’t scare me..."

Her voice trembled violently.

Jiang Xiaohui, who usually followed her full of vigor, was now limp and collapsed. Only the faint rise and fall of his chest proved he was still alive.

Jiang Ling’er raised her head and looked at the several Demon Cultivators in snake-patterned clothes in the corner of the room.

Just one hour ago, they had been smiling as they told her, "Little girl, help us refine the Evil Qi in the valley ahead. Not only will we give you Spirit Stones, but we’ll also praise you in front of the Clan Leader. We guarantee no one in the Dog Race will ever dare to bully you again."

She believed them, because she desperately wanted to be praised.

Ever since following her master to the Demon Race, she had discovered this place was not as her master had described.

No one said "you’re amazing" just because she helped. When the young demons of the Dog Race looked at her, their gazes were always scrutinizing and distant.

She had sent a message to her master, telling him she had learned a Magic Technique on her own. When she heard her master say she was amazing, she could be happy for a whole day.

So when the people from the Snake Race said they would praise her if she got the job done, she was tempted.

Moreover, they also said that after it was done, they would give her a type of Spirit Grass that could strengthen the body and would be good for Jiang Xiaohui’s old injuries.

’Maybe this time it’s for real?’

’Maybe if I help them this time, someone will be willing to be my friend afterward.’

But that’s not what happened.

After she had exhausted her Spiritual Power and barely managed to refine a portion of the Evil Qi, she turned around, pale-faced, to ask for her reward, only to be met with their instantly cold expressions.

The so-called "Spirit Grass" was tossed in front of Jiang Xiaohui, and it instantly transformed into a cloud of black gas that shot into his mouth and nose—it was a potent poison.

At the same time, the core of the Evil Qi from deep within the valley, which had been agitated, rushed toward her like a net. It was a trap specifically designed to corrupt the foundation of her Cultivation Technique.

"Why?"

She asked blankly at that moment, not with anger, but with genuine confusion. "I... I was almost done."

The only answer she received was a cold sneer.

The image in the memory began to shake. It was Jiang Ling’er’s perspective at that moment, filled with panic.

She threw herself next to Jiang Xiaohui, trying to claw the black gas out of his mouth with her hands, but it was useless.

Jiang Xiaohui’s body began to convulse, his breathing growing weaker and weaker.

"What do I do... What do I do..." She rummaged futilely through her Storage Bag. Inside were only a few ordinary Elixirs her master had given her, completely useless against this kind of Demon Poison.

She remembered her master seemed to have mentioned something offhandedly, but her mind was a complete blank, seeing only Jiang Xiaohui’s slowly dimming gaze.

Despair washed over her like ice water.

Then, Xu Ran saw her do something—she suddenly lowered her head and began to frantically dig at the dirt beneath her feet with her bare hands.

The earth was saturated with Evil Qi, glowing an ominous blackish-purple. The moment her fingers touched it, a searing pain shot through her skin, and they quickly became a bloody mess.

But she didn’t stop. Her fingernails bent back, blood mixing with the black soil. She just kept digging, her eyes fixed, repeatedly muttering words her master had once said in passing: "Where the deadliest poison lies, three inches down, its counter may arise... its counter may arise..."

She didn’t know if it was right; she was just grasping at the last straw.

She dug a small pit in the soil, and her fingertips finally touched something dark red, like a withered root. Heedless of everything, she ripped it out, stuffed it into her own mouth, and crushed it violently with her teeth.

The thing was bitter and astringent, with a foul, metallic odor. Mixed with the blood from her hands, she chewed it into a pulp.

Then, she lowered her head, pried open Jiang Xiaohui’s mouth, and fed the paste—a mixture of her own blood and the unknown root—into it, little by little.

Throughout the entire process, she never once glanced at the Snake Race Demon Cultivators, as if they didn’t exist.

Her entire world had been reduced to the dying companion in her arms and the nauseating, bitter-metallic taste in her mouth.

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