Xun Ji felt a subtle twinge inside. Since his hypocritical facade had been exposed, this was the first time someone had cursed him so directly. But Biluo Sect’s resentment was clearly aimed at Du Xian Sect. Xun Ji hurriedly pressed down Lu Yun Ting’s wrist and scolded softly, “Don’t act recklessly!”
Lu Yun Ting shot the elder a glare of displeasure but obediently withdrew his sword.
Linglan looked as if she’d seen something novel, teasing, “Jiyang Zhenren and he seem to share genuine affection. But I’m curious—as Du Xian Sect’s First Generation Elder, Jiyang Zhenren should know what this is. Why treat him so?”
This time, even Xun Ji frowned. Linglan’s wording was odd—Lu Yun Ting’s background was far from simple. But the more immediate danger was that she might see through him not being Jiyang Zhenren.
“Isn’t that an unfair thing to say, Linglan Fairy?” Wei Luoheng said mildly. “Though we don’t know Biluo Sect’s purpose today, as fellow Daoists, Yunting Lord acted out of goodwill to help. Linglan Fairy should reciprocate with courtesy.”
Xun Ji quietly breathed a sigh of relief. Fortunately, Wei Luoheng knew the situation and helped cover for him.
Linglan laughed lightly as if hearing a joke. “I haven’t had time to ask—what brings Tian Yan Sect here to join the fun?”
“I’d like to consult the Fairy on something.” Wei Luoheng summoned the Falling Star Disk. The golden disk face was dotted with a dense cluster of red points, chilling to behold. “My Falling Star Disk has never erred, but when divining one’s whereabouts, it showed this result. How should I interpret it?”
Linglan glanced once and understood. Her gaze cooled. “Lord Luo Heng’s curiosity is that strong? So interested in his mother? Du Xian Sect didn’t tell you, so you calculated it yourself.”
Wei Luoheng feigned distress. “If it hadn’t yielded a result, fine—but this… How could one person have so many mothers? Luo Heng truly doesn’t understand. Please enlighten me, Fairy.”
“Has Lord Luo Heng misunderstood something?” Linglan’s gaze finally turned to Lu Yun Ting, but it held none of a young woman’s warmth—only endless malice and loathing. “One person indeed has only one mother. But who told you he is human?”
Lu Yun Ting felt Linglan’s gaze like venomous snakes crawling over his body, poison seeping from his heart, stiffening his limbs and bittering his tongue. Only when a hand quietly grasped his did he regain some strength.
He gripped Xun Ji’s warm palm tightly, saying gravely, “You know I’m that dragon? What’s really going on? Who is my mother?”
Linglan stared fixedly at him, her chest heaving uncontrollably. After a long while, she seemed to convince herself to calm down.
“You should know.” She spoke evenly. “Du Xian Sect sealed your memories and your Emotion Vein, letting you live so carefree, even becoming the Cultivation World’s praised gentleman… But no perfect facade can bury your filthy essence.”
She even knew about Lu Yun Ting’s Emotion Vein. Xun Ji’s heart clenched with a bad premonition.
Linglan raised her rotten hands, reaching toward Lu Yun Ting through the air, a smile curling her lips that didn’t reach her eyes.
“If we became these neither-human-nor-ghost forms because we harbored evil intolerable to the world… then you, Lu Yun Ting, are the source of that evil.” She said softly, “You think you’re that dragon? No, you’re not.”
“Lu Yun Ting, you’re no lofty divine being. You are merely, a thousand years ago, at the moment the True Dragon was besieged and slain, a wisp of unwilling resentment, a thread of unquenched rage, a hatred that endures forever.”
“You are the curse—the True Dragon Curse.”
Silence blanketed the plaza. The hand in Lu Yun Ting’s grasp turned ice-cold. Xun Ji gripped it tightly.
“You’re lying,” Lu Yun Ting’s voice was low and hoarse, carrying a tremor he himself didn’t notice. “I clearly have flesh and blood—how could I be a mere intangible curse?”
“Then you should thank Biluo Sect.” Linglan’s smile only deepened the chill in hearts.
“Slaughtering a True Dragon—what grave sin. They say that great war left the Cultivation World devastated, but only half died in the battle itself; the other half perished afterward to the True Dragon Curse.
“The True Dragon Curse was vicious and potent. Even the entire Cultivation World’s power couldn’t fully dissipate it, nor could any magic artifact seal it away. Someone proposed: could it be sealed within a person’s body, suppressed by flesh? The method was perilous, but for the Cultivation World’s survival, several mighty experts stepped forward, willing to become vessels for the Evil Curse.
“The experts drew the Evil Curse into their bodies and exploded in moments. With no other way, they kept trying. The experts exhausted every method, falling one after another, all in vain… until Biluo Sect’s founding ancestress, the Fusang Immortal, drew it into herself with her body.
“She succeeded.”
“Why?” Lu Yun Ting’s face paled. He stared fixedly at Linglan. A voice in his heart screamed wildly for him to stop listening—further words would only rip open a bloody truth, adding pointless pain.
Yet he stubbornly asked again, “Why did Fusang Immortal succeed?”
“She was pregnant.” Linglan’s voice was soft, as if the tale had drained her strength, leaving only a trace of sorrowful grief.
“The Evil Curse entering her body was excruciating at first, but when it passed through her womb, it suddenly quieted. Her fetus was then just forming, not yet humanoid, and the Evil Curse settled there. The endless slaughter halted abruptly, and it seemed the Cultivation World had triumphed over the True Dragon Curse.
“But soon, they knew they were wrong. Fusang Immortal’s belly swelled rapidly; in just a month, it was like ten months pregnant. The fetus tore through her skin and crawled out. Perhaps ‘tore’ isn’t right—it had no limbs, no features, nothing a baby should have. No one knew why, but all knew: the Evil Curse had returned to the world.
“They easily killed it, but only its monstrous form; it reverted to the rampaging Evil Curse. The good news? Its power seemed slightly weakened. Another bit of good news: Fusang Immortal, despite her gutted belly, didn’t die. Though riddled with rot and horrific to behold, she endured. She’d been tainted by Dragon Breath—a faint trace of coveted True Dragon power lingered in her.
“Maybe not such good news, for they shoved the Evil Curse back into Fusang Immortal. After birthing once, the mother’s body bore its mark; the Evil Curse recognized it. Three full months passed before it burst out again, its power weaker still.
“The Cultivation World saw hope and buried the Evil Curse in Fusang Immortal once more. No progress this time—it emerged after three months. Not due to error, but because Fusang Immortal died.”