Chapter 89: Clues of the Infants

Yuanchen seemed deeply interested in healing the sick; early the next morning, he went outside the city to observe the children’s recovery.

Ji You arrived shortly after, standing before Wei Rui’s porridge stall, handing out porridge while watching the scene with Kuangcheng.

In Qingyun, there is an old saying: illness strikes like a mountain collapsing, but recovery is as slow as drawing silk.

Yet under the miraculous healing of Yu Danzong’s arts, the children—including Qingwa—regained their vigor in a short time.

They could suppress the wind-demon invading the body with dan qi, even draw it out, and directly direct dan light into the patient’s afflicted area.

Ordinary pills require water to dissolve and take effect, sometimes hindered by the patient’s absorption.

But in the hands of a dan master, dan qi can catalyze them instantly.

This has long surpassed the realm of “medicine”—it is true miraculous restoration.

Kuangcheng carried himself with the grace of a gentleman, always composed under praise or blame, yet he could not help exclaiming in awe at such arcane art.

“I’ve never met a dan master before; these past few days, I’ve wondered—if ordinary physicians had such abilities, perhaps…”

“This is a world only cultivators can access. If you accidentally glimpse a corner, don’t dwell on it—too much thought will only make you more bitter toward the world.”

Kuangcheng froze at Ji You’s words, then snapped back to clarity.

In truth, this world holds countless things beyond ordinary people’s imagination, yet none of them are accessible to the common folk.

Even Yuanchen’s minor display, which earned him cries of “divine physician,” was merely the most basic technique of a Yu Danzong disciple.

After a long silence, Kuangcheng sighed: “Ji Brother speaks truly. Without you, these poor children might have died here—how could they ever have accessed such divine arts?”

Ji You turned to look at him: “It wasn’t entirely because of me.”

“?”

“That boy Yuanchen is fundamentally kind, easily inspired—he’s practically an endless source of motivational broth. But until now, he’s lived only within Yu Danzong, never once considering how he should live. So what you just said… might yet come true.”

“Just now…?”

“Yuanchen is a direct disciple of Yu Danzong, and very likely the next head of the sect. His thoughts and choices will shape Yu Danzong’s future path.”

Kuangcheng froze at the words “direct disciple”: “Ji Brother, how did you come to know a direct disciple of Yu Danzong?”

Ji You crossed his arms, standing beside a patch of dew-drenched wild grass: “I was sent by Tian Shu Academy to Qiling, where I met Yuanchen searching for his sister—I helped him rescue her.”

Wei Rui had been listening quietly beside them; now she suddenly stopped stirring the porridge: “But I just heard Master Yuanchen call Master Ji ‘brother-in-law’?”

“Ah… he did want to marry his sister to me, but I refused.”

Kuangcheng’s brow furrowed instantly: “Ji Brother, you’re foolish! For the sake of all people under heaven, a woman of such status must be wed!”

Ji You’s lips twitched: “Did you forget the one I brought to your house last time?”

Kuangcheng paused, recalling the immortal woman who sat in his courtyard eavesdropping, then severed a branch with a single finger.

That immortal woman… was not someone to be trifled with.

“Ji Brother, you’re far too fond of chasing beauties.”

“How’s that? Is it my fault I’m handsome?”

Ji You grew irritated, resenting the injustice of the world.

Because of this breathtaking face, I must work a hundred times harder to earn strength worthy of my looks—how can I speak of such hardship to anyone?

“Still, Ji Brother, with your extraordinary talent, you could marry them all.”

Kuangcheng spoke with conviction: “With Yu Danzong’s backing, you could establish a great family in Fengzhou. With you at its head, your hometown folk would live better—far better than letting that damned Fengxian Manor strut around like a peacock.”

“Your thinking…”

Ji You clicked his tongue, thinking: Your logic is truly bizarre.

In the past, when I saw injustice, I always thought of conquering the world with strength—but now you suggest I use my looks.

Spreading juice and liquid…

Truly makes a gentleman blush!

Ji You, lost in thought, muttered inwardly: You scholar, you’re shamelessly lewd!

Wei Rui listened to their conversation, her eyes flickering slightly.

She usually spent time with Princess Changle and others, assuming friendship should be like that—but seeing Kuangcheng and Ji You, she felt more at ease with them.

She disliked scheming and deceit; with Princess Changle and the rest, she always felt tension—nothing like the ease she felt now.

Still, sometimes their talk made her cheeks flush…

At that moment, Yuanchen stepped out from the isolation area, beads of sweat on his forehead, wiping them lightly with his wide sleeve.

Ji You looked up: “How is it?”

“A few more days’ rest and they’ll recover fully. But the black qi invading their bodies… is strange.”

“Strange?”

“Once inside the body, it first seizes the five organs and six viscera, then slowly adapts to the host. Early symptoms are subtle, but once matured, it becomes a violent illness—like a poison fruit that bursts open and spreads through the entire city.”

Ji You frowned: “You kept me away before because of this?”

Yuanchen extended his palm, where seven-colored dan light trapped a wavering strand of black qi: “Brother-in-law, try using your spiritual energy to refine it in my palm.”

Ji You flicked his finger, sending a powerful surge of spiritual energy into Yuanchen’s palm—only to find the black qi suddenly swelled, swallowing his energy whole, like a predator.

“Why?”

“In mortals, it’s merely an epidemic. But if it infects a cultivator… no one knows what will happen.”

Hearing this, Ji You’s expression turned grave.

The lower three realms begin with body refinement—cultivators’ bodies, tempered by spiritual energy, are immune to all illness.

Like Lu Qingqiu, who wore only thin robes even in the dead of winter, bringing fleeting warmth to Ji You’s austere cultivation path—because they never caught colds.

So if this black qi could infect cultivators, it was terrifying—it was no ordinary thing.

The key question: where did this invading black qi originate?

As he pondered, Yuanchen pulled three pills from his sleeve: "Brother-in-law, take one; also, Master Kuang and Miss Wei, each take one."

“Then let’s take precautions.”

Ji You swallowed his pill, then felt a hot surge swell in his abdomen, rushing upward—finally, a cough, and a strange sensation of drooling as if cured: “Is this pill that potent?”

Kuangcheng looked alarmed: “This… is undignified.”

Yuanchen immediately replied: “Brother-in-law, your body is strong as a cultivator, so I used a stronger dose. But yours and Miss Wei’s were diluted.”

“I see.”

Kuangcheng took the pill and placed one in Wei Rui’s hand.

Wei Rui remembered Kuangcheng’s words yesterday—that he hadn’t washed his hands in days. Her cheeks flushed again; she wasn’t sure if he truly hadn’t, but after long hesitation, she swallowed the pill with water.

After a few coughs, Kuangcheng turned to Yuanchen: “How is Qingwa doing?”

“His condition was worse. He woke up, drank some porridge, and can speak now—but he still needs rest before walking.”

“Can we question him?”

“Of course.”

Kuangcheng then looked at Ji You: “Ji Brother, I’m going to the Orphanage.”

Ji You turned to him: “What, going to donate money again? Put my name this time.”

“Not money. I need to confirm something. I’ll explain after I return.”

Kuangcheng walked toward the city, following the damp stone streets, detouring to the city’s edge, buying several sugar-coated haws along the way.

Inside the orphanage, a sturdy boy sat in the courtyard, gazing at the high sky.

Kuangcheng knelt before him: “Huwa, what are you looking at?”

“I don’t know, Brother Kuang—did you find my sister?”

Huwa’s parents fled after giving birth to his sister, unable to pay the tribute; he and his infant sister were sent here.

But they didn’t stay long—his sister was taken away.

Kuangcheng had promised to help him find her; now, faced with the question, he didn’t know how to answer.

After returning from Qiling, he and Ji You had discussed this while Yuanchen treated the children.

According to Ji You, the infants had indeed been taken to Qiling—because Luo You’s wife said that for over three years, infants cried daily in the mountains.

This meant the missing infants in Shengjing were merely a drop in the ocean; similar events likely occurred in other towns across the Nine Provinces.

But the trail ended at Qiling—no one knew where the infants went, whether alive or dead.

“First, give out the sugar haws to everyone, then I’ll take you somewhere.”

Huwa’s eyes widened: “Where?”

Kuangcheng pressed his lips: “You’ll see when we get there.”

Soon after, Huwa was brought to the refugee camp outside the city. Seeing Ji You’s furrowed brow, Kuangcheng pulled him aside: “This is the boy I donated quilts to at the orphanage—the one who asked me to find his sister.”

Ji You reached out and patted the boy’s round skull: “This place is full of patients. Why bring a child here?”

“The mark on Qingwa’s neck…”

“?”

Huwa’s father had been a hunter who carved two bone pendants, leaving them with the children before fleeing—perhaps hoping they’d one day recognize each other.

When Huwa asked Kuangcheng to find his sister, he described the pendant.

Kuangcheng had seen it—on Qingwa’s neck.

But since he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he brought Huwa here.

Since the infants were indeed taken to Qiling, and Qingwa and the others escaped from Bahe Village south of Qiling, they might have seen it.

Ji You looked at Huwa, his mind swirling.

The ruins of Qiling were filled with strangeness, ending with a demonic Daoist who transmuted humans to ascend—then the mountain collapsed and everyone died.

Yet the infant trail remained unbroken—until now, when it took an unexpected turn.

He felt as if something was slowly being connected together.

Then, under the protection of Yuanchen’s dantian light, Kuangcheng led Huwa into the refugee camp.

In no time at all, they walked out.

Because confirming something does not require much time.

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

The pendant had indeed been confirmed by Huwa.

But Kuangcheng did not ask directly, for he knew it would likely be a terrible outcome—one Huwa could not bear.

Ji You pondered for a moment: “Bring Qingwa out. Let’s return to your courtyard and ask.”

“That’s what I was thinking too.”

(End of Chapter)