Chapter 80: On the Path of the Great Dao, To Stand Still Is To Fall Behind

As soon as Qing’er saw her, she instantly recognized that Hua Guzi had been poisoned. The toxin was potent—once bitten, a person would collapse within a few breaths, and those with weaker cultivation would die on the spot. Judging by Hua Guzi’s current state, she might endure for a short while, but they could not afford the slightest carelessness.

Qing’er stepped forward, and as Hua Guzi looked on in despair, she flung out a vine. Hua Guzi fainted before the vine even reached her, but the vine arrived swiftly after, binding her securely.

“Xiao Qing, are you alright?” Qing’er asked anxiously, glancing at her little sister, who was looking very pleased with herself. When Xiao Qing had been taken, Qing’er had been terrified.

“I’m fine! Second Sister, did you see how amazing I was?” Xiao Qing said proudly, eyeing the fallen Hua Guzi. “No matter how formidable she is, she couldn’t withstand my poison.”

She looked eagerly at Qing’er, as if awaiting her praise.

“How did you get out?” Qing’er was puzzled. That flower basket was a rare magical treasure, well-crafted. By her estimation, it should have been very difficult for Xiao Qing to escape.

Though she hadn’t received the praise she’d hoped for, Xiao Qing heard the question and quickly explained, not wanting to leave her sister confused.

“That Hua Guzi is really foolish. There were two holes in her own treasure and she didn’t even know. When she put me inside, I couldn’t tell directions, but I saw two spots of light. I went over to check and found both holes led outside.” Xiao Qing recounted what happened in the basket.

“When I got the chance, I slipped out and bit her,” Xiao Qing said, baring her sharp little teeth with pride, thrilled by her own cunning.

Qing’er found this odd. It was impossible that Hua Guzi didn’t know about the holes in her basket unless—

She recalled how, when the flower basket floated above Xiao Qing’s head, Wang Yuanfeng had struck it twice with sword energy and summoned it back into his hand. Inspecting it closely, she discovered two tiny holes at the bottom, out of place on the otherwise flawless basket. They had clearly been pierced by something. She concentrated, sensing faint sword intent emanating from the holes, identical to the energy Wang Yuanfeng had unleashed on the stone earlier. It was clear he had made them.

“What’s wrong, Second Sister?” Xiao Qing asked curiously, surprised that her sister was examining the damaged basket instead of asking about how she bit Hua Guzi.

Qing’er gazed thoughtfully at the two small holes, then tossed the basket to Xiao Qing. “Take a good look at those holes and remember to thank Young Master Wang.”

Xiao Qing looked at the basket in her hands, studying it closely. The sword intent was even more apparent from the outside. She felt a tinge of disappointment—this was unmistakably from Brother Yuanfeng. But the next moment, her eyes lit up as she remembered his promise to teach her two Daoist arts. If a single finger could pierce a treasure like this, surely the arts he’d teach her would be nothing short of extraordinary.

Qing’er watched her sister’s shifting moods—disappointment one moment, excitement the next—and shook her head, unsure what she was thinking. “Come on, let’s go back.”

With that, the two of them carried the bound Hua Guzi and flew back toward the courtyard.

…

“I hope they’re alright,” Wang Yuanfeng thought, having watched Xiao Qing be captured, Hua Guzi flee, and Qing’er toss Zhang Sangu at his feet. Injured and unable to use his full strength, he could only watch helplessly. Seeing the sudden hatred Hua Guzi bore for Xiao Qing, as if they had an old grudge, he could only hope Qing’er would catch up and rescue her.

“It’s time to restore the flying sword hidden in my lungs,” he thought. Most of his attack power lay in the sword—without it, he was like a tiger without claws. Facing a true expert, even escape would be impossible.

Hauling Zhang Sangu indoors, Wang Yuanfeng entered a meditative state. The Celestial Armillary Sphere had grown more spiritual, no longer dull and gray. He’d noticed a pattern—each time he illuminated the key nodes within, the sphere’s influence expanded. If he could seize the core, he might be able to stabilize the order of this world.

The elixir in his dantian had rounded out, nourishing his organs, sinews, and bones. His lungs shone with golden light, a sign of approaching the innate realm—an advancement usually reached only after forming the great elixir, but an unexpected turn had brought him here early.

From the moment his flying sword pierced Wuchen’s cheeks and he reformed his core, only a few days had passed, yet his cultivation had soared. This was far beyond what could be achieved by following the usual, steady path of training.

There was only one explanation: it must be connected to the changes in the Celestial Armillary Sphere. As long as he gathered a few Daoists whose fate resonated with the star gods within the sphere, his cultivation would rise—perhaps the fastest path ahead.

With this realization, Wang Yuanfeng’s thoughts crystallized. It didn’t matter whether one was demon or human; as long as they could be used, that was enough. This time, the stag demon’s allies could serve as star gods. Zhang Xiangzi was no longer suitable—his mind had long been clouded by desire—so that left Hua Guzi and Zhang Sangu. Regardless of their grudges, he needed those who understood the times.

There were only two choices: submission or death.

He realized his previous methods were too gentle, lacking direction. Now, seeing his path clearly, he felt a new resolve settle in his eyes, shining with wisdom and conviction.

As his resolve firmed, the Celestial Armillary Sphere seemed to respond, spinning of its own accord, its core flashing with mysterious light.

For a general to rise, countless bones must bleach the field. Conflict was inevitable; the sword must blaze the trail. If he hesitated, paralyzed by fear of foes before and behind, he might as well hole up and cultivate for centuries on end. But the road was before him—there was only one way: to achieve enlightenment or perish utterly. The Dao was like a narrow plank bridge crossed by thousands; there was no going back.

“It seems I can’t kill Hua Guzi and Zhang Sangu, at least for now,” Wang Yuanfeng concluded. He needed the sphere perfected, and it was intertwined with his fate, able to regulate his fortune and vital energy. That decided it.

Suddenly, he sensed a ripple of magic power in the distance. Looking up, he saw two women in green, one older, one younger, bringing someone with them.

He let out a breath—it was Qing’er and Xiao Qing, with Hua Guzi in tow. Relief washed over him; clearly, Qing’er had managed to rescue her sister. Now he could rest easy.

He saw that Qing’er was carrying someone bound tightly in vines, her face bluish, lips blackened—it was Hua Guzi, unmistakably poisoned.

“Brother Yuanfeng, we caught her!” Xiao Qing shouted from afar, her voice preceding her arrival.

They landed before Wang Yuanfeng, Xiao Qing stepping forward to hand him a small flower basket. “Thank you, Brother Yuanfeng. If you hadn’t pierced the basket, I wouldn’t have escaped.”

Wang Yuanfeng took the basket, examining the two holes at its base. Sensing its spiritual aura, he understood it was a rare treasure for collecting flowers and herbs, not a weapon for combat.

No wonder his two sword strikes had pierced it so easily; it was never meant for battle. Had it been a true combat artifact, it wouldn’t have yielded so readily.

Qing’er’s gaze held gratitude. If not for his intervention, Xiao Qing would have been lost. Now, both of the stag demon’s potential accomplices were in their grasp.

“Young Master Wang, what should we do with these two?” Qing’er asked. She’d captured them, but wasn’t sure how to proceed.

“She’s been poisoned, hasn’t she?” Wang Yuanfeng asked, noting Hua Guzi’s blackened lips.

“Yes, I bit her,” Xiao Qing replied with a bright, toothy smile.

The sight sent a chill through Wang Yuanfeng—this was no ordinary venom. “Can you cure her first? She may be the stag demon’s accomplice, but we don’t know what misunderstandings might be involved.”

“She doesn’t seem cruel or violent,” Wang Yuanfeng added, shaking the little basket.

Qing’er relaxed—she hadn’t wanted to harm Hua Guzi anyway. The true villain behind the attack on her serpent cave was the stag demon; Hua Guzi’s involvement had always felt uncomfortable.

“Xiao Qing, do as Young Master Wang says and detoxify her. After all, her crimes don’t warrant death.” Seeing Xiao Qing’s reluctance, she added, “Don’t worry. With the serpent vine binding her, she can’t escape.”

Xiao Qing glanced at her sister, then at the securely bound Hua Guzi. The vine was her sister’s spiritual root, cultivated for centuries—a formidable artifact, perfectly attuned to her nature. It could serve as a whip or binding rope, impervious to water or fire, and was inescapable.

Still, Xiao Qing was reluctant. Hua Guzi had nearly captured her, after all.

But when she saw Wang Yuanfeng looking at her expectantly, her heart softened. “Alright.”

Wang Yuanfeng nodded approvingly, relieved she didn’t object. He thought to himself that her temperament wasn’t bad—at least she didn’t hold grudges.

Xiao Qing, pleased with his approval, felt a small thrill. She remembered his promise to teach her some Daoist techniques, so she hurried over to Hua Guzi’s side, ready to detoxify her.

She opened her mouth, and a bead the size of a pinky nail, jade-green and luminous as a crescent moon, floated out, hovering over Hua Guzi’s head. As the demon bead spun, wisps of green mist rose from Hua Guzi’s head, swirling into the bead until the poison was gone.