Chapter 1001: Good girl, just endure and it will pass

So from the very beginning, Tang Yaocao never thought of solving the problem; she only waited for the day when Seven Halls Yama would be completely drained, then she would dig out his inner elixir to fulfill herself.

If Tang Xun hadn't insisted on helping Seven Halls Yama share the burden, and if Liu Junyan hadn't opened that deep ravine on the west side of Hu Shan, Tang Yaocao reckoned she would have succeeded long ago.

She peacefully stayed in the utopia personally crafted for her by Seven Halls Yama, silently cultivating.

Indeed, this utopia-like medicinal field, especially Lingdie Valley, was naturally fertile ground suitable for Tang Yaocao's cultivation.

After all, initially Seven Halls Yama intended to use Tang Yaocao's Ghost King Butterfly power to complete Tang Xun's soul.

"You're also a pitiful person." Xiao Jiu couldn't help but sigh, "From before birth you were schemed against; raised to a suitable age you were cruelly killed; after death you were endlessly refined and used, never finding peace—anyone else would have long collapsed, yet you keep striving to find a way to live. To be honest, I actually admire you a bit."

"I'm not pitiful!" Tang Yaocao's emotions suddenly surged, "Only the weak make people feel pity; I, Tang Yaocao, have never feared fate. They killed me, refined me, so I used the spell array they set up for me to cultivate, and I became the true Ghost King of the Hu Shan lineage!"

"They used the divine power of the Buddhist shrine to control me, imitating my ordeal to set up the same ritual ground to nourish medicinal spirits, so I struck back, leaving no survivor!"

"I never kill the innocent, but anyone who harbors designs against me—I let none of them go!"

To speak frankly, Xiao Jiu actually likes Tang Yaocao's temperament a bit.

Too bad she took the wrong path; otherwise…

Thinking this, Xiao Jiu immediately cut off her train of thought.

She said coldly, "Not kill the innocent? Then I ask you, what crime did the photo studio boss of those years commit?"

Tang Yaocao was momentarily speechless.

If we say that back then the big boss bought the Buddhist shrine and ancient paintings just to resell for profit, offending Tang Yaocao, and that the painting-viewing masters shared the same vested interests, thus suffering, that's already quite a stretch.

But that photo studio boss merely ran a business, helping Tang Qingshan develop photos—what crime could he have?

The cause of death of the photo studio boss, as determined back then, was overwork-induced sudden heart failure.

But it's obvious the true trigger of the photo studio boss's death wasn't sudden heart disease—it was Tang Yaocao!

Xiao Jiu continued, "Over these years, victims innocently implicated like the photo studio boss must be many, right? Tang Yaocao, are you really going to keep making mistake after mistake?"

Tang Yaocao immediately shouted, "I'm not wrong! They are! I'm the victim!"

"Grudges have origins, debts have owners—whoever harmed you, you take revenge on them!" Xiao Jiu pressed the attack, "You've killed so many, yet your resentment never fades, even giving rise to the Ghost King Butterfly. Tang Yaocao, can you still not straighten your position to this day? You are no longer the pitiful victim of old; you've become the perpetrator! Executioner! If you persist in obstinacy, you will ultimately become a demon despised by all."

"It's all you who forced me!"

In Lingdie Valley, a vast expanse of black qi swiftly condensed into a ghostly shadow pressing toward Xiao Jiu.

It floated in midair, its hollow eyes staring down at Xiao Jiu from above, emitting a chilling chill.

"Yes, my very birth was a scheme."

"I bear the fate of a legendary imperial princess, but I was not born into an imperial household, so my flesh is destined unable to carry my fate; from the moment of birth I was doomed to die before my coming‑of‑age ceremony—that is what they wanted."

"On the eve of my birthday that year, I inexplicably ran a relentless high fever, lingering sick in bed, while my family, who usually doted on me, didn't even call a doctor, not even to feed me a sip of medicine..."

On the eve of my birthday that year, I inexplicably started a high fever that wouldn't subside, lingering sick in bed, while my family, who usually doted on me immensely, didn't have a single person call a doctor for me, not even to feed me a spoonful of medicine broth...

That bleak, hatred‑filled laugh echoed from the black shadow, shocking the deaf and rousing the mute.

"Seek medicine? Hah, how could they possibly get me medicine? They've been waiting for this day for over ten years!"

"Not to mention decoctions—they wouldn't even give me a mouthful of rice soup or water."

"My whole body ached and weak, my stomach caved from hunger; I clung to life like a thread, begging them for a bite to eat, but no one listened."

"Those parents and kin I once loved and relied on stared blankly as my life ebbed away bit by bit, until one morning I suddenly woke from coma, felt a flicker of strength, and slowly sat up..."

Those parents and relatives whom I once loved and depended on stared numb as my life ebbed away bit by bit, until one morning I suddenly woke from my coma, feeling that I had gained a little strength in my body, and I slowly sat up...

Tang Yaocao at that moment... was probably already experiencing the final flicker before death.

"My mother, that gentlest, most virtuous woman, the one I trusted most in my brief life, came to my bedside, helped me off the bed, and I said, 'Mother, I'm hungry and thirsty, I want some rice soup.' She smiled and said, 'All right, Mother will have it prepared; first Mother will bathe you, wash away the grime, our Yaoyao will surely recover—just stay clean.'"

"How foolish I was—I truly believed my illness was getting better, I held no grudge for what they'd done before, I longed for maternal love, I longed to live, so I obediently let Mother wash my frail body, dress me in clean fresh clothes, she lit incense in the room, and everything seemed so beautiful..."

How foolish I was, I really thought my illness was about to get better; I held no grudge for what they had done to me before, I longed for maternal love, I longed to live, I obediently let my mother wash my emaciated body and change me into clean new clothes, incense was lit in the room, everything was so beautiful...

Xiao Jiu knew that was ultimately just a beautiful dream Tang Yaocao had woven for herself.

How wonderful it felt then, later Tang Yaocao would hate just as much!

Xiao Jiu didn't even dare to ask what happened next.

Tang Yaocao didn't need Xiao Jiu to ask; she raved, laughing and saying, "I obediently sat by the table waiting for that bowl of rice soup I'd been longing for ages, but I waited and waited until my vital essence was nearly drained, and still no soup appeared—what I finally got was a chopstick‑long soul‑locking nail!"

"Hah, chopstick‑long, it drove straight down from the top of my head; my frail body couldn't even cry out in pain, blood and tears burst forth at once, my mother frantically wiped me with a handkerchief, saying while wiping… 'Yaoyao, don't cry, can't cry, after all the trouble to cleanse your body, don't soil it again, good girl, endure and it will pass.'"

"Haha, the chopsticks were long, they were driven straight down from the top of my head; my frail body couldn't even cry out in pain, bloody tears spilled out instantly, my mother hurriedly wiped me with a handkerchief, wiping and saying… Yao Yao, don't cry, can't cry, after finally cleansing my body, I mustn't dirty it again, good girl, endure and it will pass."