Chapter 51: The Theft of the Immortal Herb
Murong Yan sprang up from her bed, quietly opened the door, and prepared to slip into the night, unnoticed, to steal the immortal herb from the old woman’s courtyard across the way.
No sooner had she stepped outside than a wave of putrid stench assaulted her senses.
The smell was so overpowering that Murong Yan staggered, nearly collapsing to the ground.
She glanced at the jumble of odd plants scattered across the yard, curiosity pricking at her heart: What on earth are these? How could anyone in the world cultivate such revolting things—aren’t they disgusted themselves?
Though the thought lingered, time pressed upon her, and Murong Yan quickened her steps. The farther she went, the more unsettled she felt, nausea, dizziness, and agitation rising within her.
At last, she reached the gate where she had pleaded for the immortal herb earlier that day, and only then did her symptoms ease somewhat.
She looked around—no one was in sight. Tearing a strip from her sleeve, she covered her delicate face.
Silently gathering her spiritual energy, she became as light as a feather and leapt onto the wall.
Standing atop it, she gazed at the courtyard filled with radiant, magical, fragrant immortal herbs. Her spirits soared, joy overflowing.
She thought to herself: Brother Feng, you are saved!
She jumped down, reached out with her slender hand, and grasped a stalk of immortal herb. Before she could pull it up, she suddenly heard—
“Jingle, jingle...”
A burst of ringing echoed. It turned out that a bell was tied beneath the immortal herb, and her touch had set it off.
Immediately, a furious shout came from the house: “Little thief! If I won’t lend it, you come to steal it, is that it?!”
A plump old woman leaped out, flower hoe in hand, aiming straight for Murong Yan’s head!
“Venerable Immortal, this herb is vital to save a life. I had no choice but to take it without asking. Once I’ve saved Brother Feng, I’ll return to beg your forgiveness. Please, be merciful!” Murong Yan tucked the herb into her bosom, dodged the blow, and hurriedly pleaded.
But the old woman would not relent, cursing, “Little thief, give me back my immortal herb!”
Her flower hoe whipped through the air, targeting Murong Yan’s vital spots.
Murong Yan evaded for some time, seeing the old woman relentless, irritation rising in her heart. She drew the green sword from her waist and engaged in battle.
Though the old woman was plump, her movements were nimble and unpredictable, wielding the flower hoe with uncanny skill. She was no easy opponent.
Murong Yan, feeling guilty, dared not strike hard, her sword’s power greatly diminished, and soon she found herself at a disadvantage.
Clashing sounds filled the air—
“Ding!”
“Ding!”
“Clang!”
“Clang!”
The ring of weapons echoed continuously.
In a flash, they had exchanged over forty blows!
The more they fought, the more agitated Murong Yan became. She had already stolen the immortal herb and only wished to hurry back to save her beloved Ye Feng; she had no desire to tangle with this old woman.
Moreover, her spiritual strength was far inferior to her opponent’s. If she continued, she feared losing both herself and the herb, ending up with nothing.
Thus, she seized on a flaw, leapt out of the circle, and cried, “Venerable Immortal, I beg your pardon for my disrespect. I’ll return another day to seek forgiveness!”
With several quick leaps, she was outside the wall.
“Where do you think you’re going?!” The old woman would not let her go, shouting as she gave chase.
So, one ran ahead, the other pursued behind, both locked in relentless pursuit.
Before long, Murong Yan felt her heart grow heavy, her head dizzy and swollen, her steps slowing.
Anxious, she summoned her spiritual energy to quicken her pace.
But as soon as she did, the world spun around her—
“Oh!” she cried,
Blood as dark as ink spilled from her lips, and she collapsed to the ground!
What was happening?
The previous day, Murong Yan had followed the shriveled old man to his house, where poisonous herbs grew in abundance.
The red pill atop the jade box in his room was an antidote—a divine elixir.
Thanks to its scent, she had not been poisoned then.
But when she slipped out at midnight, she had not inhaled the antidote’s fragrance. By that time, she was already deeply poisoned.
In that garden, the immortal herb’s aroma had temporarily suppressed the toxins.
Once she escaped, deprived of the herb’s scent, the poison surged through her body and ravaged her limbs and bones.
Running and using spiritual energy only hastened the invasion.
When she crossed the threshold, the poison flared, and she fell!
The old woman caught up, kicked Murong Yan twice, cursing, “Little wretch, run all you want—now you’re dying of poison, and you won’t die well!”
She reached into Murong Yan’s bosom, retrieved the immortal herb, and tucked it back into her own.
Murong Yan, heartbroken, struggled to say, “Se... Senior, ple... please, grant... grant me the herb... save... save my Brother Feng...”
Before she could finish, she fainted.
“Little slut, you’re near death and still thinking of someone else?!”
Cursing viciously, the old woman raised her flower hoe to smash Murong Yan’s skull.
“Lotus Sister, hold your hand!”
As the words rang out, the shriveled old man stepped forward.
His iron shovel flashed like lightning, blocking the blow.
With a “clang," sparks flew, the sound lingering through the silent night.
Both stepped back three paces, shaken!
“Hunchback, you’d dare raise your hand against me for this wretch?!”
The old woman raged, pointing at the old man.
“Lotus Sister, don’t you find this girl pitiable?”
“What’s there to pity?!”
“She cannot protect herself, yet still cares for her lover. Her affection is touching, her love is admirable!”
“What’s that to me?!”
“I beg you to show mercy, to save these young lovers!”
“Nonsense!” The old woman spat, turned, and walked away.
“Lotus Sister, Lotus Sister...!” The old man hurried after her, blocking her path.
The old woman brandished her flower hoe, eyes blazing. “Seventy years ago, when you left me for that slut, we severed all ties. Why come to me now?!”
The old man, with a sheepish smile, replied, “Lotus Sister, I wronged you back then, failed your affection; it was my fault, please forgive me! But this girl has nothing to do with us—why take your anger out on her?”
The old woman glared, barking, “Seventy years ago, I saved a beautiful woman who stole my beloved and ruined my life. Since then, I have nothing to do with poisoned people, especially pretty girls—I won’t save them! Are you smitten with her beauty again?”
Her rebuke made the old man flush red, and he hurried to explain, “Sister, what are you saying?! I’m far too old now for such thoughts!”
“You may not feel anything now, but you left me then, didn’t you?!”
Seeing her anger flare, the old man grew solemn: “Yes, Sister, I failed you, betrayed your affection. But you know, I never loved you, never expressed any tender feelings; it was always one-sided. I left with Ke’er to avoid your jealousy and endless entanglement.”
“Then why come back to me?!”
“Sister! Though there was no romance, we shared years of siblinghood. Ke’er is gone, and I worry for you, so I returned. Who knew you’d become like this? Have you forgotten our father—my master—wanted us to master poison and antidote to eradicate evil and save the world?! How can you be so harsh, and how can you face your father?”
At the mention of “father,” the old woman’s fury deepened. She pointed at the old man and yelled, “Silence! Don’t mention my father! Did you honor him? Did you honor his daughter? He arranged his daughter’s marriage to you, yet you betrayed him, abducted another woman, and now you dare return?!”
She spun and dashed into the house.
“Bang!”
The door slammed shut.
The old man watched as the old woman disappeared inside, ignoring him. He sighed deeply.
He turned, hoisted Murong Yan onto his back, and carried her to his own house across the mountain.
When Murong Yan slowly regained consciousness and saw the old man before her, she realized she had been saved by him and hastily knelt in gratitude.
The old man helped her up, and Murong Yan quickly asked, “Senior, what happened to the immortal herb I picked?!”
The old man fell silent, lowering his head.
“Was it snatched away by that old woman?!”
He nodded.
Murong Yan’s hope vanished; her body swayed, nearly collapsing, but the old man caught her.
“Brother Feng, I am powerless to save you. It’s better I join you in death!”
Murong Yan, desolate, sighed, drew her green sword, and pressed it to her throat.
“Wait!”
The old man rushed over, grabbed her wrist, and prevented her from acting. “Girl, don’t be so desperate!”
Murong Yan replied, “Senior, let me go. If Brother Feng dies, I have no wish to live!”
The old man comforted her, “Child, heaven never blocks all paths. There may be another way.”
Murong Yan was unconvinced, asking, “What other way could there be?!”
Her question stumped the old man.
“This... this...” He pondered for a long time, but found no solution.
Finally, with resolve, he asked, “Girl, do you love your beloved brother deeply?”
Murong Yan answered, “Yes!”
“Is his life more precious to you than your own?”
“Of course!”
“Hmm...” The old man fell silent.
At last, he steeled himself and said, “Girl, I have decided to give you the antidote pill my master once gave me. Take it to your beloved, and he will be cured instantly—and from then, immune to all poisons.”
Upon hearing this, Murong Yan immediately—
“Thud!”
She knelt to the ground.
“Bang!”
“Bang!”
“Bang!”
Three loud kowtows: “Thank you, Immortal, for your gracious gift!”
The old man stepped forward, helping her up.
He took the jade box from a flower rack by the wall and carefully handed it to Murong Yan.
“Child, this is the antidote divine pill, ‘Pure Jade Dew Nine Fragrant Pill.’ Ninety years ago, I was an orphan, and my master took pity on me, adopted me, named me Xie Junde, taught me the arts of poison, and instructed his daughter Wei Furong in the art of antidotes. Thus, one mastered poison, the other antidote, and our skills grew through daily practice. Later, I combined ancient formulas, crossbred various poisons, and cultivated a new species called ‘King of Hell Flower’—grass by day, flower by night—considered the most poisonous in the world!…”
Murong Yan listened in awe, her admiration growing. “Immortal, your sister has lost this time!”
The old man nodded, “Indeed! But Furong would not accept defeat. She gathered the world’s rare herbs, spent ten years, and cultivated a celestial flower called ‘Bodhi Soul Grass’—which completely countered my ‘King of Hell Flower.’…”
Murong Yan was enchanted by his tale.
“We lived like that, in harmony. But when I turned eighteen, I met a woman, quarreled with my sister, and my life changed forever.”