Chapter 65: Repayment

My pupils contracted sharply, and I felt goosebumps rise all over my hands. Ghosts, zombies, foul spirits—I’d seen plenty of them, but to witness such a look on the face of a little girl no more than a few years old sent a chill down my spine.

I stepped forward, crouching before the girl. The stench of decay, so strong that even medicinal herbs couldn’t mask it, assaulted my senses. Only then did I notice that even her eyes were crawling with worms, burrowing through the whites.

“What’s going on?” I asked in a low voice.

Mingxue’s gaze darkened, and after a moment of silence, she replied, “You’re an outsider. Don’t ask what you shouldn’t. Just tell me—can you cure her?”

I stood abruptly, staring at Mingxue, frightening her into taking two steps back.

“Is she your child? If you won’t tell me what disease she’s contracted, how am I supposed to treat her?” I said angrily.

“If you won’t treat her, then leave. Hurry up and go!” Mingxue walked over, intent on dragging me out.

But my legs felt rooted to the spot, unmoving. Mingxue stumbled and fell into my arms.

A strange flutter stirred in my heart—the softness of this Miao woman’s body was unexpected. Instinctively, I wrapped my arm around her waist.

Mingxue braced herself against my chest, pushing herself away forcefully, then looked at the little girl, her eyes reddening.

“Fine, let me check the child first.” Seeing her reaction, my heart softened a bit; I’d better examine the girl before saying anything more.

I checked her over and found no boils on her body—only her head and face were afflicted.

I took out a Yang Sha needle and punctured one of the boils on her face.

Tiny worms poured out, dozens of them, crawling swiftly toward the girl’s nose and eyes.

I surged my spiritual power, killing all the worms instantly, but kept two, placing them in a clear vial for further study.

Just then, the punctured boil swelled up again, new worms appearing inside.

I frowned, activating my spiritual sight to look deeper at the girl.

“Hm?” I was surprised—beneath the layer of boils on her face, something else was lurking.

“Go fetch a basin of hot water,” I told Mingxue.

She nodded and hurried off.

Meanwhile, my fingertips glowed with a dim light. In a flash, I stabbed dozens of Nether Needles into the girl’s head and face, then flicked my finger.

In that instant, the needles vibrated simultaneously.

Before long, I saw something stirring beneath the girl’s skin, causing her entire face and head to twist and contort.

Suddenly, all the boils burst open at once, pus and countless thread-like worms spraying everywhere. The stench, far stronger than before, was overwhelming and nauseating.

Just then, a fissure split open on the girl’s scalp, and something semi-translucent, glistening with mucus, squeezed out.

I squinted, stepping back and placing my hand on the Demon-Breaking Blade at my waist.

The thing kept wriggling, pushing itself out more and more, like a giant, flattened snail.

Suddenly, it let out a shrill squeal and shot toward my face like lightning.

Whoosh.

A flash of blood-red light from the Blood-Sha Blade sent the creature flying, but it froze midair.

To my astonishment, two wings unfolded from its body, their color rapidly darkening.

---

I stepped forward, slicing at it several times, then slapped a fire talisman onto its body.

The creature squealed, and was finally burned to ashes, releasing a pungent, scorched odor.

I looked at the little girl, seeing her Yang fire burning far brighter, and the worms in her eyes had all been driven out by my Nether Needles.

I crushed all the worms with my spiritual power, except for the two I’d kept for research.

Just then, Mingxue entered with a basin of hot water, only to see the girl’s face and head covered in needles, and her face smeared with pus from the burst boils, looking even more wretched than before.

Mingxue cried out and rushed over, glaring at me in anger.

“She should be fine now. Clean her up, apply some medicine—she’ll recover in time,” I said, gathering up the Nether Needles.

Mingxue was incredulous, but when the girl weakly called out “Mama,” she burst into tears.

After tending to the girl’s wounds, night had fallen completely.

I picked up my medical kit and headed back, Mingxue following me out.

“No need to see me off—I know the way,” I said.

“Doctor Li, thank you,” Mingxue said gratefully.

“No need to thank me—it’s what I should do…” As I spoke, Mingxue grabbed my hand, pressing it to her chest.

How could she thank me like this? I, Qin Feng, have always healed without expecting reward—this was too much!

But, to be honest, the feeling was excellent.

Mingxue’s breathing quickened. She suddenly dragged me into a nearby grove and pushed me down into the grass.

Miao women are passionate—no doubt about it.

Should I resist? Or not?

I pondered this question for a full hour. An hour later, I emerged from the woods like a drunken toad, clothes disheveled, stumbling.

The question faded from my mind—all resistance or lack thereof had led to the same result.

I smoked a cigarette, humming a tune as I returned to the stilt house at the base.

“You took so long to treat someone—did you end up in bed?” Hu Xiaoyu sat on the stilt house porch, her tone sarcastic.

“No. Unless you count the sky as a blanket and the earth as a bed,” I chuckled.

“Hmph. Men—always chasing momentary pleasure. Be careful you don’t get cursed. That would be your own fault.” Hu Xiaoyu finished, then went inside.

I froze. Damn it—how could I forget? That thing in Mingxue’s daughter’s scalp—could it be a gu parasite?

Damn, I’d better check.

That night, I didn’t sleep at all. I checked myself over and over, found nothing unusual, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was crawling under my skin.

…

On a peak of the Bosuo Mountains, a waterfall cascaded from the summit like a river of stars, plunging down.

Beside the falls was a cave, pitch-black within.

Hu Xiaoyu entered, knelt, and spoke, “Hu Xiaoyu, handmaiden of the White Lotus Sect, greets the Mother.”

“Have you brought back the soul of the saint?” In the darkness, a figure appeared—clearly a woman, her curves discernible, but her face obscured.

“I have. Please inspect it, Mother.” Hu Xiaoyu took out the bone box, opening it to reveal a faint blue glow.

The bone box floated over to the White Lotus Mother’s hand.

---

“Well done. I hereby appoint you leader of the White Lotus handmaidens, commanding eighteen handmaidens.” The Mother praised her, tossing a silver token to Hu Xiaoyu.

“Thank you, Mother.” Hu Xiaoyu was overjoyed. She swapped her old copper token for the silver one—her status had soared from earth to sky.

The White Lotus hierarchy: wood, iron, copper, silver, gold, purple. The silver token was already a lofty rank—even the Mother carried gold; purple was said to be reserved for the emergence of the Saint.

The Mother had said: when the Saint appears and all laws converge, the White Lotus will become the rightful sect of China, no longer bearing the stigma of heresy.

“Mother, I have someone I’d like to recommend, to help us achieve our grand design sooner,” Hu Xiaoyu said.

“Who?” the Mother asked.

“The one traveling with me, Li Yan. He’s a disciple descended from Master Mao Qingfeng of the Maoshan Daoist line. He’s mastered the Palm Thunder technique—its power is extraordinary,” Hu Xiaoyu replied.

“A Maoshan practitioner? Not bad. But have you investigated his background? Is there any chance he’s from Bureau Nine? Could he be biased against our White Lotus Sect?” The Mother fired off a series of questions—this was a critical moment, and new members had to be vetted rigorously.

“I had our intelligence network look into him days ago—the report says his background checks out,” Hu Xiaoyu said.

“Good. Try to make contact,” the Mother said.

…

In the blink of an eye, a week passed.

The medical team hadn’t treated many people, so Captain Lin Hai ordered everyone to go door-to-door, looking for anyone who needed medical attention.

It didn’t work well; the team members grumbled—if people didn’t want treatment, so be it.

Truthfully, it was no wonder. This so-called medical aid team was full of people seeking gilded credentials and promotion—leisure was their preferred state.

Over the past few days, Hu Xiaoyu and I grew closer. She was subtly probing, laying groundwork, and I responded in kind.

I suspect it won’t be long before she recommends me for initiation.

“Off to cavort with that older woman again?” Hu Xiaoyu asked.

“Twenty-eight—the age when women are at their most alluring. I think you’re jealous,” I replied.

“Ridiculous. Why would I be jealous of an older woman who’s had a child and lost her husband?” Hu Xiaoyu tossed her head, scoffing.

I chuckled and dropped the subject.

This week, I certainly found myself savoring the experience, and Mingxue felt the same.

The Miao are open about matters between men and women—if two single people like each other, it’s common to roll in the grass under the sky.

Suddenly, screams echoed through the village. Many people rushed toward a commotion, something had happened.

Hu Xiaoyu and I hurried over. When we squeezed through the crowd, we froze.

A dozen Miao village children lay scattered on the ground, their eye sockets gaping black voids, countless worms crawling in and out.

From their eyes to their brains, all had been devoured.

My eyelids twitched, a chill spreading within as I recalled Mingxue’s daughter. Could there be some connection?

Just as I thought this, I saw Mingxue and her daughter, bound hand and foot, being marched out of the village.

I frowned, about to step forward, but Hu Xiaoyu grabbed my hand.

“Don’t be reckless. This is a Miao village—don’t assume they’re all ordinary folk,” she whispered.