Chapter 133: The Female Cultivator of Hundred Flowers Valley

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Cui Jue was startled at first but quickly retreated to the side, a look of disgust crossing his face.

The alluring woman let out a crisp laugh. “Little cultivator, did you think I was interested in you? What I meant by ‘fragrance’ was the scent of medicine. You’re an alchemist, aren’t you?”

Cui Jue remained silent.

“As they say, medicine and alchemy go hand in hand. Since you’re an alchemist, you must understand the principles of mutual generation and restriction in medicinal properties, correct?” A peculiar glint flashed in her eyes.

Hearing this, Cui Jue’s pupils contracted slightly. He had a rough idea of what this demonic woman intended for him.

“I can ensure your senior brother doesn’t die, but you must serve as my poison tester,” she declared with absolute confidence, as if rejection wasn’t an option.

Cui Jue turned to glance at his eldest senior brother, Fang Cheng Lang, whose face was pallid and lifeless. Without much hesitation, he nodded. “Fine. Heal my senior brother first.”

“Relax. This poison won’t kill him for another three to five days. But first, you’ll assist me in testing the poison,” she said firmly.

Before Cui Jue could reply, a red insect, no larger than a thumb, flew out from the woman’s sleeve and landed on his fingertip.

Cui Jue resisted the urge to fling the insect away, staying motionless. The next moment, searing pain erupted from his finger, spreading rapidly throughout his body.

“Ah!” he cried out, clenching his fist tightly and dropping to one knee. His once serene and ethereal face twisted in agony, sweat pouring from his forehead.

“Giggle… I’ve named this poison ‘Heartbreak Red.’ Do you feel as though your organs are burning, as if your insides are being torn apart?” The woman’s laughter grew more gleeful as she watched his suffering.

Cui Jue could no longer make sense of her words. His world was consumed by unbearable pain. He used his last ounce of strength to lay Fang Cheng Lang gently on the ground, then collapsed to his knees, pressing his forehead against the dirt in an attempt to alleviate the torment.

Wave after wave of pain surged through him, leaving him convulsing. Blood-tinged foam seeped from the corners of his mouth.

As his consciousness faded, a fleeting thought crossed his mind: Was this how Xiao Zhao felt when he swallowed the Bone-Eroding Pill?

…

A deafening hiss echoed through the forest. A black python, over ten feet long, let out a piercing cry as its massive head fell to the ground, sending a gust of wind that scattered countless rotting leaves.

Ji Han Zhou leapt down from the tree, rushing toward the snake’s carcass. Among serpentine demonic beasts like this black python, the most valuable parts were the snake gall and inner core, especially the gall, which was prized for its detoxifying properties—perfect for aiding cultivators during breakthroughs.

He drew a dagger and began dissecting the snake’s body at its vital spot. Suddenly, the sound of unusual wind reached his ears.

Without so much as glancing up, Ji Han Zhou continued his task, meticulously searching for the beast’s inner core. However, the three figures watching from a short distance became increasingly apprehensive.

Exchanging silent glances, one of them, an older man, stepped forward cautiously.

Whoosh!

A single leaf flew through the air and embedded itself in the ground, just an inch from the man’s foot.

The trio looked up in unison, only to see a woman perched casually in the tree. Her features were indistinct, her left leg propped against the trunk while her right leg swung lazily.

Without hesitation, the three men turned and fled. If they had lacked a sense of self-preservation, they would’ve long perished in the treacherous Marsh Forest. Failing to notice such a powerful presence before intruding on her domain was enough of a warning.

After running hundreds of feet, the trio finally stopped to catch their breath, relief washing over them. They had narrowly escaped death today.

Meanwhile, Ji Han Zhou extracted the snake gall and inner core, placing them carefully into a separate storage pouch.

The group’s spoils from their time in Marsh Forest were securely stored, ready to be divided upon their departure.

“Senior Sister Yu, everything is packed and ready,” a voice rang out.

Yu Zhao leapt gracefully, landing in front of Ji Han Zhou. She was about to call for their departure when the sound of deliberate, heavy footsteps reached her ears. Turning together, Yu Zhao and Ji Han Zhou saw four elegant female cultivators emerge from the dense underbrush.

In the dim, shadowy forest, their presence seemed to bring a burst of light, making the surroundings more vibrant. The sight of Yu Zhao made their eyes light up as well.

The four women varied in strength: one was at the mid-stage Golden Core, another at the early stage, and the remaining two were at the late stage of Foundation Establishment, much like Ji Han Zhou. The leader, a mid-stage Golden Core cultivator, stepped forward with a dazzling smile and greeted Yu Zhao warmly.

“Greetings, fellow cultivator. We are disciples of Hundred Flowers Valley. Seeing your extraordinary bearing and noble demeanor, we couldn’t resist approaching to make your acquaintance. We hope we’re not being too forward.”

From the moment Yu Zhao spotted them, she felt a certain familiarity. Hearing them introduce themselves confirmed her suspicions. Hundred Flowers Valley, a sect unique in the cultivation world for its female-centric hierarchy, was known for its disciples’ innate confidence—not one stemming from their sect’s prestige, but an inner, bone-deep poise. To them, people were divided into two categories: women and useful men.

The fact that the women barely acknowledged Ji Han Zhou allowed Yu Zhao to confirm their identity even before they spoke further.

Returning their courtesy with a smile, Yu Zhao introduced herself. “Yu Zhao, of the Five Elements Dao Sect. This is Ji Han Zhou of the Heavenly Sword Sect.”

Upon hearing Yu Zhao’s affiliation, the women were overjoyed, barely registering the latter part of her introduction. The leader, Mo Ci, quickly took the lead in introductions.

“Yu Daoist, I am Mo Ci. These are my junior sisters: Jing Nan, Wang Sheng Xue, and Yang Xi.”

Yu Zhao greeted each one in turn, the atmosphere warm and friendly. Ji Han Zhou, meanwhile, stood awkwardly to the side. He attempted to insert himself into the conversation, only to find himself consistently ignored. Slowly, he began to suspect they were deliberately excluding him.

At first, he dismissed it as his imagination, but repeated attempts made it clear: the women were collectively shunning him. The realization left him flabbergasted.

His mother, none other than the Sword Sovereign Jiu Hua, had often told him tales of the gracious and tender nature of Hundred Flowers Valley disciples. But as Ji Han Zhou observed the way they surrounded Yu Zhao, their syrupy voices coaxing and pleading, he couldn’t reconcile the reality with those stories.

“Yu Daoist, are you also training in the Marsh Forest? Why not travel with us? It would be safer for all.”

“Yu Sister, you’re so kind; meeting you feels like meeting my own elder sister. Please, join us, won’t you?”

“Yu Senior Sister, I’m so scared of this dangerous forest. Won’t you protect us?”

Their soft, lilting voices poured into Ji Han Zhou’s ears like an unrelenting tide. He stared, dumbfounded, as the four women clustered around Yu Zhao, lavishing her with attention. A sudden thought struck him like lightning.

Could it be that his mother had once basked in the same kind of adoration, inspiring those overly idealistic stories?

He had been deceived!

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