A Guide to Self-Rescue in the Cultivation World - Chapter 8

The agonizing pain from the medicine, coupled with the shock of that bizarre memory, left Zhou Suyao unconscious for a full day and night. When she opened her eyes again, the window showed the fading light of evening.

The wound in her lower abdomen still throbbed faintly, but the new, faint yet resilient warmth in her Dantian revitalized her. She instinctively curled her fingers; the cold touch of the bronze mirror from her dream seemed to linger on her fingertips.

It had all been too real.

Real and chaotic.

She couldn’t grasp her own connection to these events, nor could she understand the mystery shrouding them, or why this heavy, sudden fate had landed so unexpectedly on her shoulders.

It was giving her a headache.

She lay in bed for a long time, recovering, before finally managing to sit up. She turned her head and found a set of clean, simple robes lying on the bedside, next to a bowl of warm medicine.

After she changed and drank the medicine, a knock sounded on the door.

Second Senior Brother Qu Mingu walked in, carrying a simple cloth bundle.

“Awake? How do you feel?”

He surveyed her, frowning slightly. “Still as pale as a ghost.”

“Not dead yet.” Zhou Suyao forced a wide, fake smile, intentionally trying to annoy her Second Senior Brother. But Qu Mingu not only ignored her, he walked over with a worried expression and gently felt her forehead.

“No fever,” Qu Mingu droned. “Then why are you being so stupid?”

“Second! Senior! Brother!”

Though she was grinding her teeth in frustration, the real purpose of the visit was more important. Her eyes quickly fell on the bundle her Senior Brother had been carrying since he walked in. “What’s that?” she asked.

“For you.”

Qu Mingu handed her the cloth bundle. “It’s a few high-grade talismans I snatched from Master’s study, plus a small bottle of Spirit Recovery Pills. The Golden Thread Pavilion is a mixed bag, and Mingluo’s words are likely half-true at best. Be prepared for anything, and don’t try to be a hero.”

Zhou Suyao felt a warmth in her heart at his concern. “I understand.”

“And this.” Qu Mingu pulled a small jade pendant from his sleeve. The jade was smooth and lustrous, clearly of superior quality and high value. Zhou Suyao quickly shook her head. “No, this is too valuable.”

But her Second Senior Brother’s tone was firm and brooked no refusal. “Take it.”

He continued, “This is a protective spirit jade Eldest Senior Brother carved for me a while ago. It can block one spell attack. Keep it with you.”

“Remember, your life is more important than anything else. If anything seems wrong, immediately use the Linque bird to send a message to me. Don’t push yourself.”

Seeing the profound worry in his eyes, any further refusal died in her throat. Her throat tightened, and she finally gave a firm nod. “Got it!”

The Golden Thread Pavilion

The Golden Thread Pavilion was the largest pleasure house at the foot of the Xingcong Sect’s mountain. It was five stories high, opulent, and constantly filled with noble guests and the sounds of music and strings.

Though it appeared to be a place of refined elegance, it was secretly a meeting place for all walks of life, a hive of information, and an ideal location for private dealings.

The hour of Shen (3-5 PM) had arrived. Zhou Suyao, dressed in plain grey clothes, carefully contained her spiritual aura, making her look like an unremarkable female guest to others.

Inside the pavilion, the mixture of perfume, wine, and tea was so heady it gave her a slight headache. Zhou Suyao avoided a woman who bumped into her and headed straight up the stairs to the private rooms.

A breeze blew past, and she heard the faint chime of a small bell.

It led to the most secluded corner of the third floor. Pushing open the carved wooden door, an elegant scent of orchids wafted out. Behind the delicate screen, Mingluo had indeed already arrived.

She had changed out of her Xingcong Sect uniform into a light blue, everyday dress, making her look more delicate, though her eyes were shadowed by a persistent worry.

“I snuck down the mountain behind Master’s back. Time is short, so I won’t waste it on pleasantries.”

Closing the door, Mingluo skipped the customary greetings. She immediately lowered her voice and spoke quickly. “I suspect this new disciple competition was part of a major conspiracy.”

“How so?”

“After that day, I was ill for a long time. While confined to my bed, I suddenly remembered that Master had gone to the Stone of Inquiry multiple times in the days leading up to the competition. I found it highly unusual—in previous years, the testing grounds were always arranged by Sect Elders with leisurely duties. Why was he so invested in this one?”

Mingluo continued, “At first, I thought Master was simply being cautious for my sake, but after the Underworld incident, I felt there was more to it. So, while Master was practicing with the other Masters, I snuck into the sect’s secret chamber. In one of the hidden manuals, I found that the Stone of Inquiry has a little-known function, aside from assigning trials—it can sense the presence of a specific Vessel and transport that Vessel to a predetermined location.”

Vessel?

The word instantly reminded Zhou Suyao of the red-robed spirit’s accusation.

The hand resting beneath the table clenched tightly. “Are you saying Elder Xuan Yangming…”

“Shh!” Mingluo nervously made a shushing gesture, lowering her voice even further. “I’m not fully accusing Master. But when I continued to investigate in secret, one of the Elders told me that Master, on the pretext of checking the stone, had repeatedly approached the Stone of Inquiry alone and performed an extremely secret hand seal just before we entered the illusion. Looking back… I fear that was the seal that opened the passage to the Underworld.”

“And,” Mingluo hesitated for a long time, as if finally making up her mind, “I accidentally discovered a portrait in a hidden compartment in the Master’s meditation room… The woman in the painting is seven-tenths similar to you!“

Hearing this, Zhou Suyao’s breathing nearly stopped.

The face from her dream flashed in her mind, instantly overlapping with the terrifying face of the spirit in the Underworld.

It was her, indeed.

“Who is the woman in the painting?” Zhou Suyao pressed, her voice trembling slightly.

The trembling contained both the excitement of getting closer to the truth and the careful wariness of needing to tread carefully.

She couldn’t afford another mistake.

“There was no signature on the painting, only a line of small characters: ‘Qinggui.’ I asked the oldest宗 Master in the sect. He vaguely mentioned that a century ago, the Xingcong Sect did have an astonishingly talented female disciple named Ning Qinggui. She was a demon with exceptionally high talent and was deeply favored by the Grand Elder, Dao Moxing, but she later mysteriously disappeared.”

“If the portrait is real, why would Master keep a painting of a girl who vanished a hundred years ago? And do you remember, when we were in the Underworld, the red-robed spirit also accused you of resembling her?”

“Can there really be so many similar faces in the world, Suyao? Don’t you find this highly suspicious?”

Mingluo stared into her eyes, speaking slowly and deliberately.

A Web of Distrust

The clues were like an icy chain, link after link. All this information was too convenient.

Ning Qinggui. Xuan Yangming.

The Vengeful Spirit in the Underworld.

One moment, she dreamed of Ning Qinggui’s past; the next, someone was telling her Ning Qinggui was that same spirit.

It was as if someone had deliberately set this up for her benefit.

Thinking this, Zhou Suyao slowly looked up, meeting Mingluo’s gaze.

“But why are you telling me all of this?”

Zhou Suyao spoke slowly, deliberately enunciating every single word:

“What does any of this have to do with you?”

Inside the room, the scent of orchid was still delicate, but the atmosphere plummeted to freezing point due to Zhou Suyao’s direct, core question.

The air was thick, almost suffocating.

The worry on Mingluo’s face instantly froze. A hairline crack appeared in the fragile mask she had so carefully maintained. Her eyes flickered, avoiding Zhou Suyao’s sharp scrutiny. Her fingers unconsciously twisted the hem of her clothes.

“I…” She opened her mouth, her voice dry. “Suyao, what are you implying? I’m risking betraying my Master to tell you this, naturally it’s…”

“Naturally, it’s what?” Zhou Suyao interrupted, leaning slightly forward. The pain from her injured abdomen was a dull throb, but it kept her mind exceptionally clear.

She stared intensely at Mingluo, not missing the slightest change in her expression. “Is it for self-preservation? Or is it to… get rid of me, a potential ‘Vessel’? Or perhaps, you are simply bait sent by Xuan Yangming to test me and draw me into his trap?”

“You!” Mingluo shot up, her eyes instantly filling with offended anger and a hint of panic she couldn’t quite conceal. “Zhou Suyao! How dare you be so ungrateful! I came here out of goodwill…”

“Goodwill?” Zhou Suyao countered. “Everything has been too ‘convenient’ since you first approached me. You just happened to be with me in the Underworld, just happened to find a portrait that resembled me, and just happened to know secrets from a hundred years ago.”

She let out a cold laugh. “Mingluo, how can there be so many perfect ‘coincidences’ in this world? Your story is too complete, too timely! It sounds like a script written for you to memorize and act out for me.”

“What is your objective?”

Hearing this, Mingluo’s face went completely white. The previous air of pitiful vulnerability vanished, replaced by the distress of someone exposed.

“Stop it!” Mingluo cried out sharply, her voice trembling. As if making a sudden, desperate decision, she violently tore open her inner garment, revealing an extremely strange red mark above her collarbone.

“Do you see this?!” Mingluo pointed to the mark, her voice desperate and helpless. “The Life-Sharing Seal! Not only do I have it, but the woman in that portrait has it too! This mark originates from the Demon Race. The moment the caster needs it, the Life-Sharing Seal will activate, forcibly draining the spiritual foundation and energy of the person it’s cast upon.”

“Our trip to the Underworld was no accident! He wanted to see how much potential a vessel like me could show in a life-or-death situation. He is definitely waiting for a very important, necessary opportunity, and he can’t wait any longer.”

This sudden truth exploded in Zhou Suyao’s ears. Her pupils constricted as she stared at the ominous-looking brand, her stomach churning.

If this were true, Mingluo’s potential shown in the Underworld was no coincidence. And her hatred for Xuan Yangming was real.

But… that didn’t mean her current actions were entirely sincere.

“So,” Zhou Suyao’s voice was unnervingly calm, stifling her internal turmoil. “You came to me because you realized that I, this unexpected ‘Vessel’ who closely resembles Ning Qinggui, might be able to distract Xuan Yangming.”

“No,” Mingluo denied. “I have never asked anyone to die for me. I simply want to carve out a way for myself to live, and you happen to be the variable that can break this fate. I want you to cooperate with me.”

“After all,” she paused, “the female spirit—no, Senior Ning Qinggui—said in the Underworld that you two have many similarities. Do you truly think you can simply live in peace?”

Zhou Suyao fell silent.

Just as she was weighing the pros and cons, the sudden, distinct chime of a bell sounded from outside the door.

Both women looked towards the door simultaneously.

However, the person outside didn’t immediately show themselves. Instead, a light, teasing voice drifted in:

“Is the play inside finished? May I come in?”