"What?"
A frost now covered Wuqing's exceptionally beautiful face, his eyes piercingly cold, his lips tightly pursed, radiating killing intent.
Not only his body, but the entire small courtyard was enveloped in a bloodthirsty aura. He suddenly let out a clear whistle, and his boundless internal energy surged forth. He lifted both hands.
It was as if thunderclap exploded in mid-air. The ginkgo tree's blossoms rained down, fluttering and covering him.
Qingfeng remained motionless. As Wuqing's anger erupted, he turned his wheelchair to leave. His gaze inadvertently fell upon a white letter. With a movement of his hand, the letter landed in his palm. A single glance was enough to contort his face into a mask of ferocity.
Shedding his usual ethereal demeanor, his voice became hoarse.
"Silkworm poison?"
Wuqing, usually calm and composed, could no longer find peace. He let out a long howl, a primal cry like a wolf losing its mate in the forest. His voice was choked with a sweet, cloying sensation, and his eyes turned crimson.
He no longer glanced at Qingfeng, turning his wheelchair and slowly departing.
His retreating figure was desolate and frail. Watching his master in such a state, Qingfeng's heart ached as if he wanted to die. Had he done wrong?
Had he truly erred? It seemed his master had already fallen deeply in love. How could he possibly presume to be his master's master? Now, he was the one harming him.
Qingfeng quickly followed his master. He regretted his actions. He wished his master would hit or scold him, or even kill him, and he would bear no resentment.
But he begged him not to torment himself like this. Seeing him so, it made him wish he could kill himself. He had truly brought about his own misfortune.
Wuqing urgently rolled his wheelchair forward, his gaze fixed ahead. Qingfeng, supporting himself, rushed forward to help him.
Wuqing suddenly stopped, turning his head. Qingfeng was stunned. His master's eyes were completely bloodshot. At this moment, he seemed utterly demonized, looking at him coldly, as if he had never known him.
Qingfeng, who had endured so much hardship since childhood without shedding a single tear, began to cry.
He fell to his knees with a thud. "Master, I regret it. Hit me, scold me, even kill me, and I will never have any complaints. But please, don't torment yourself, okay?"
Wuqing's voice was hollow and distant, like a soulless specter.
"You think that without her, my life has any meaning? Any meaning at all? What difference is there between you now and them twenty years ago?"
"You've merely pushed me into a deeper abyss. Isn't all my suffering over these years enough? Is it not enough?"
"I only wanted a little happiness, to live a few happy days, is that too much to ask? Do you know how happy I was when she said, 'Let's live together like family'? I would have been content to die immediately, happily. Do you know that?"
He roared, and due to his extreme anger, blood finally trickled from the corner of his lips.
Qingfeng panicked, flustered and helpless. He walked over to wipe the blood from his lips. "Master, don't rush, don't rush. It's all my fault, all my fault. Please don't rush."
"Don't follow me. From now on, you go your way on the bright road, and I'll go my way on the narrow plank. Just pretend I never saved you."
Wuqing turned his wheelchair and moved away. Qingfeng was horrified to discover something.
In the light breeze, his master's black hair had instantly turned completely white. His hair turned white overnight. How much pain must be in his heart? It seemed that woman was indeed his life.
"Master."
Qingfeng, heartbroken, fell to the ground. If time could rewind, he would definitely help his master cherish her, never harming her in the slightest.
Because only when she was happy would his master be happy. His affection transcended life and death.
"Master," Qingfeng called out. The wheelchair grew further and further away, a head of white hair fluttering in the wind, as desolate as autumn.
Qingfeng quickly got up and followed his master from a distance. He couldn't let his master be alone. Although he had made a mistake, she was not dead yet. Someone had taken her away, perhaps she would be alright.
As long as she was alright, his master would be alright. Now, all he could do was pray to heaven, to please save her.
On a wide official road, dust flew.
A luxurious and exquisite carriage shot out like lightning, followed by several tall, fine horses. The people on them were burning with anxiety, whipping their mounts with all their might.
They had traveled for nearly a day, without stopping, and finally reached the foot of Spirit Mountain as the last ray of sunset faded.
Spirit Mountain, like Heaven Mountain, was a place of exceptional natural spirit.
Heaven Mountain was covered in snow year-round, while Spirit Mountain was warm and spring-like in all four seasons, lush and verdant. Many reclusive hermits resided here.
Inside the carriage, Yin Xuan held Qingyao, speaking continuously into her ear. Although her eyes were tightly closed, her mind was still clear.
Therefore, he kept talking, hoping she would persevere. Otherwise, even if they found the Purple Spirit Grass, it might be of no use.
As the carriage stopped, a subordinate outside respectfully reported, "Master, we have arrived. What do we do now?"
Yin Xuan immediately alighted from the carriage, holding Qingyao. He looked up at the sky. It was dark in all directions, and night had enveloped the entire mountainside.
What to do now? It seemed they could only ascend the mountain in the dark. If they couldn't find the Purple Spirit Grass tonight, no one could guarantee what would happen.
Mochou and Moyou, along with several of Yin Xuan's subordinates, dismounted from the horses behind the carriage and rushed over quickly. Upon seeing her master, Mochou's eyes reddened, and she anxiously blurted out,
"Master, what should we do? You must save my young lady, Master."
"Good, let's ascend the mountain,"
With Yin Xuan's command, everyone received the order and began their ascent. None of them recognized the Purple Spirit Grass. Yin Xuan briefly explained its appearance to everyone. It was a plant with two leaves, purple leaves, and even purple flowers. When pulled out, even the roots were purple. If they saw it, it would indeed be the Purple Spirit Grass.
Knowing the origin of the Purple Spirit Grass, they did not hesitate, especially Mochou and Moyou, who rushed up the mountain immediately. The others followed suit. Saving the person was the priority.
Yin Xuan followed them up the mountain, carrying Qingyao.
The night was as black as ink, with the sky densely packed with stars, but no moonlight, so the night was dim, offering little radiance. Everyone could only feel their way up the mountain.
Finally, each person lit a torch to illuminate their search.
Purple Spirit Grass was not a particularly precious item. On Spirit Mountain, this type of grass was very common. It grew in the crevices of rocks, hidden from sunlight year-round. After enduring the elements, it finally matured.
Soon, someone discovered the Purple Spirit Grass.
Fearing the quantity would be insufficient, Yin Xuan ordered them to find two more stalks.
Mochou and Moyou joyfully placed the Purple Spirit Grass in Yin Xuan's hand and anxiously asked, "The Purple Spirit Grass has been found, is it really useful? Is it useful?"
"Now, search the surrounding caves. I need to channel my internal energy to help her absorb the medicinal effect. Only then can the silkworm poison be completely eliminated."