Chapter 50
Chapter 50: Miserable
Watching Wei Qing Lan leave, Jiang Li Sheng felt relief hit so hard it nearly made her dizzy.
If he hadn’t arrived, she would have ended up like a fish left on dry land—spiritual power drained, gasping, with no way to last much longer.
He’d saved her again.
And he’d spent so much spiritual power on her. Even if her body hadn’t responded, even if it all sank into that dead, blackened ruin inside her, the ache of gratitude still pressed in her chest.
And there was Senior Brother Chen. If he’d died because she couldn’t control the inheritance and ended up buried in Bitter Mountain… it wouldn’t just be Tai Yi Sect coming after her. She would never forgive herself.
But now they were both alive.
The awakening spirit pill was strong. For a while her head cleared, and she lay on the stone bed with her eyes open, mind racing in tight circles, stubbornly refusing to sleep.
Outside the cave dwelling, Chen Liu An—propped against a rock where Wei Qing Lan had placed him—still hadn’t woken. The pill Wei Qing Lan fed him seemed to be working; at least his breathing looked steadier.
He should wake soon.
Even though Bitter Mountain had been reduced to scorched ruin with no living thing in sight, Wei Qing Lan still didn’t trust it. Before leaving to search for Shan Gao, he set protections around the cave dwelling.
He moved fast, sword-light slicing across broken terrain while his spiritual sense swept outward. Half an hour later, he found it.
Under a massive boulder, something pig-like trembled and muttered curses through chattering teeth.
Wei Qing Lan had read countless ancient texts. He recognized it at once.
Shan Gao.
Its jaw wound was a bloody hollow, unmistakable. Yet even injured, it still had the energy to spit insult after insult. Listening closely, Wei Qing Lan caught the target of its rage.
Jiang Li Sheng.
“Stupid lass… idiot… dumb thing… fool…” It went on and on, cursing her for failing the inheritance, cursing its master for being blind, cursing its own rotten luck for nearly dying because of her.
The mountain-shattering chaos had ended and it had barely survived, but it still didn’t dare crawl out. It stayed hidden, trembling, as if the storm might return at any second.
When Wei Qing Lan arrived, Shan Gao spotted him and instantly bristled. It wanted to run—until its legs refused to move.
Pressure from someone far stronger pinned it in place. Fear flooded its eyes. For once, it didn’t dare curse at all.
Wei Qing Lan sheathed his sword and looked down at it. “Tell me. Your heart-devouring oath—does it have a problem? Her formation inheritance—where did it go wrong?”
Shan Gao realized he wasn’t here to kill it. It relaxed a fraction, though it still didn’t dare crawl out from beneath the boulder. “My heart-devouring oath was placed on me by my master before he ascended. It can’t be wrong. My master already ascended—he didn’t want his skills to go without an heir. There’s no way he would leave behind a flawed oath.”
“Then explain this,” Wei Qing Lan said, voice flat. “Her inheritance has clearly gone wrong.”
“How would I know?” Shan Gao snapped—then immediately shrank as if it regretted the tone. “Who knows what’s wrong with that damned lass? I almost died because of her. My master said that as long as I guarded the mountain and waited for the destined one, once she received the inheritance, I would benefit alongside her—enough to ascend. But look at this! I nearly died. She didn’t receive anything.”
It started crying—real tears, thick with grievance. “I waited tens of thousands of years and this is what I get? A stupid thing like her. How can someone be so stupid that they can’t even receive an inheritance?”
Wei Qing Lan watched it cry without a flicker of pity. He’d seen demons cry before; he could tell real from false. His words cut clean. “Your master didn’t take you when he ascended. That says enough. Even if you ascend, you probably won’t be welcome. Stop crying.”
“That’s not true!” Shan Gao flared. “I was young then. My cultivation wasn’t enough—my master couldn’t take me. It wasn’t because he didn’t care about me. Who are you? Why are you here? You and that stupid lass are both bad—you bully me together!”
Wei Qing Lan didn’t answer. He turned and walked away.
“Where are you going?” Shan Gao called.
Wei Qing Lan ignored it.
Shan Gao hurriedly crawled out from beneath the boulder and followed, keeping a wary distance. “Where’s that stupid lass? Is she dead yet? She made me suffer like this—did she die?”
Wei Qing Lan stopped.
He turned his head and looked back with a cold, level stare.
Shan Gao’s fur stood on end. It stumbled back several steps and clamped its mouth shut, not daring to make another sound.
Wei Qing Lan faced forward again and continued walking.
Shan Gao hesitated—then followed anyway. It was clever enough to understand its situation. Bitter Mountain was gone. The promised future was gone. It didn’t know what to do next. For now, it could only cling to the one thread it had left.
Jiang Li Sheng.
Even if she’d failed, she had still entered its master’s cave dwelling. That meant she was the destined one, one way or another.
Wei Qing Lan swept through what remained of Bitter Mountain and found nothing else living—not a tree, not a blade of grass. The ruin was total. The land looked eerily like Jiang Li Sheng’s spiritual abode: scorched earth, lifeless, hollow.
Shan Gao didn’t dare curse aloud, but its face sagged with despair. Its master had promised a glorious day: the Grand Array would open, Bitter Mountain would return to its original state, auspicious signs would appear, golden light would blanket the land, a passage connecting to the heaven realm would open, and its cultivation would finally be enough. It would climb the ladder to heaven and ascend.
Now there was only ash and silence.
The ladder to heaven was nowhere. The golden light was a lie. Shan Gao’s head drooped, crushed by the certainty that ascension was no longer within reach.
When they returned to the cave dwelling, Chen Liu An still hadn’t woken. Wei Qing Lan had no particular ties to him; he only glanced once before stepping inside to check on Jiang Li Sheng.
Shan Gao followed.
Jiang Li Sheng was fighting sleep with everything she had. Even the best pills only bought her time. If she hadn’t promised Wei Qing Lan she wouldn’t sleep, she would’ve closed her eyes long ago. With him around, she wasn’t afraid of danger anymore—only afraid of waking up to find her future in ruins.
She endured for more than an hour. When Wei Qing Lan finally returned, tears gathered at the corners of her eyes from sheer exhaustion. “Senior Brother Wei… you’re finally back. I’m so sleepy.”
Wei Qing Lan paused at the bed and reached down to help her sit up. “Sleep later. I found the dog thing that harmed you.”
Instantly, the sleepiness vanished. Supported by his hand, Jiang Li Sheng lifted her head and saw Shan Gao behind him.
Rage surged up her throat like heat. “You bastard. You dog thing. If you hadn’t forced me to chase some inheritance, would I be this miserable? Look at what you did! If you’d just let me sleep, none of this would’ve happened!”
Shan Gao glared back, ready to spit poison—until it met Wei Qing Lan’s calm gaze.
It swallowed the words and shrank its neck. “It’s not my fault,” it muttered instead, small and bitter. “My master said if you got the inheritance, I could take the chance to ascend. You failed, so I can’t ascend either. I’m miserable too.”
“Then tell me what we do now,” Jiang Li Sheng snapped. “My spiritual abode is destroyed. My cultivation path might be cut off. If my master finds out, they’ll split me in half—and they’ll throw you into boiling oil for what you did. Do you believe it?”
Shan Gao believed it.
It broke into sobs, hopeless and raw. “I don’t know. I really don’t know.”