Chapter 195

Chapter 195: Recovering the Memory of Falling Off the Cliff

On her second attempt, Rong Shu followed the same steps as before, but this time she controlled every detail with ruthless precision.

“The heat is right. Hold it there… Split off thirty percent of the flame and wrap the spirit herbs up front…”

Her instructions were steady, her mind utterly absorbed. Time slipped by minute after minute, until the fused herbs reached their final state.

Then came the most critical step—condensing the pill.

Rong Shu pushed forward in one breath, compressing her spiritual power as tightly as she could.

Condense!

“Open,” she whispered.

The furnace lid lifted. Eight pills shot out in a clean arc and landed neatly in her palm.

“It worked.” Relief flashed across her face as she stared at the glossy, well-formed pills. Only then did she finally let herself breathe.

Thank goodness.

If she failed again, there wouldn’t be any five-hundred-year Pureclear Six-Spirit Flower left.

The older Pureclear Six-Spirit Flowers could still be used, but they would be far harder to handle. She’d have to shave them down little by little, adjust the proportions carefully, and make sure the medicinal strength didn’t exceed what a five-hundred-year herb would provide.

Rong Shu stared at the pills and murmured, “Please… let these help me recover the memory of falling off that cliff.”

Little Hamster and Huo Ling crept closer, peering up at her expectantly.

“Huo Ling, come back.” Rong Shu recalled it, then looked down at the small beast near her feet. “Yan Yan, behave. I’m going to take the pill.”

“Chirp!” Little Hamster nodded hard and puffed out his tiny chest like he was making a vow.

Rong Shu still didn’t take chances. She set several defensive formations around herself, layer by layer, sealing the room tight.

She knew Senior Brother Wu Hua was guarding outside, but caution never hurt.

Only after everything was in place did she sit cross-legged on the bed. She glanced once more at the pills in her hand, then swallowed one in a single motion.

It dissolved the instant it touched her tongue.

Rong Shu closed her eyes immediately and began refining the medicinal power.

…

Deep in her consciousness, a scene unfolded.

Open countryside.

Clear water and green hills, sunlight pouring over grass that swayed like waves.

Two maids crouched in front of a seven-year-old little girl and warned her gently, “Sixth Miss, be good. Don’t run around.”

The child was pale and soft, round-cheeked like a little dumpling, with big eyes that blinked innocently. She was the kind of child people wanted to dote on without thinking.

“Okay,” the girl answered in a sweet, childish voice.

One maid went to unload luggage from the carriage. The other knelt by the damaged wheel, trying to fix it.

The little girl sat beneath the shade of a tree at first, but boredom set in quickly. Her grape-round eyes wandered—up to the birds in the branches, down to wildflowers pushing through cracks in the stones.

She couldn’t stand it anymore.

She stood and shuffled toward the nearest flower, then crouched and poked the tender petals with a curious fingertip.

A grasshopper suddenly sprang out near her shoe.

She jolted—then her attention latched onto it at once.

Hop, hop, hop.

It led her away. When it jumped too far and she hesitated, it hopped back, as if coaxing her forward.

As if bewitched, the little girl followed again.

Back by the carriage, the two maids had collapsed at some point, asleep on the ground as though drugged.

And the child kept walking.

Farther.

Farther still.

When she finally managed to trap the grasshopper in her hands, she opened her fingers in a careful slit—

Nothing.

There was no insect inside.

Confused, she looked around.

“Is that her?” A girl stepped out from behind a massive boulder, staring straight at the child. Her eyes were sharp and hungry.

The little girl froze, then tilted her head cautiously. “Who are you? Are you lost?”

The older girl walked closer with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Yes. I’m lost. Can you point me the way, little sister?”

The child pointed back the direction she’d come. “That way. If you go that way, you can get out.”

“Then I’ll take you out, big sister,” the little girl said, turning around to lead.

The moment her back was turned, the older girl’s expression curdled into blatant malice. She lunged forward and used her size advantage to slam the child to the ground, pinning her down.

“Hurry up!” the girl screamed at empty air, wild-eyed. “Tell me how to dig out her spirit root!”

A rustic ancient bead tied to her wrist glimmered with faint purple light. A ribbon-thin beam shot out and struck the child’s body.

The little girl’s face blanched.

“Ugh… ugh…” Her voice shook. “Waa… it hurts… it hurts…”

She thrashed and sobbed, but it was useless. Something inside her was being torn away—ripped free by force.

Then she was flung aside like garbage, thrown onto the ground in a limp heap, barely breathing.

“So this is a Heavenly Spirit Root.” The older girl stared at the ice-blue root floating in midair, greed blazing in her eyes. She reached toward it without thinking.

The next instant, the ancient bead “seized” control. The Ice Spirit Root snapped toward her and was forced into her body.

The girl’s face twisted as she screamed.

“Useless!” A harsh, androgynous voice rang out from within the bead. Purple light spread over its surface, washing down the girl’s pain like a cold tide.

The agony dulled.

Half an hour passed.

The Ice Spirit Root finally fused, rejection fading until it vanished entirely.

“I… I have a spirit root!” the girl cried, staring at her hands as if she’d been reborn. “Hahaha! I have a spirit root! I can cultivate!”

Then, from the distance—movement. Voices. Footsteps. The faint pressure of approaching cultivators.

The ancient bead barked a warning. “Go. There’s a cultivator aura nearby.”

The girl jerked in panic, ready to run—then her gaze slid to the child lying in a pool of blood. Not far away, a cliff edge yawned open.

A cold thought rose like poison.

She shoved the little girl hard.

The child toppled over the edge.

And the older girl fled.

…

Rong Shu’s consciousness snapped back.

Her eyes flew open.

She sat rigidly on the bed, breath shallow, as though she’d been dragged through ice water.

The image of that small body—thrown away like trash—burned behind her eyes.

Her fingers curled slowly into a fist.

Vines along the cliff wall had caught the child before she could smash into the rocks below. She hadn’t died instantly.

But she’d been tossed around, injured again and again, and in the end she hadn’t lasted long enough for anyone to rescue her.

Rong Shu swallowed hard, her voice low and flat.

“Yu Ruan Ruan…”