Chapter 109: The Origin of the Blooming Curse

Xu Qingfeng, still anxious, looked toward the bed. The man lying there had fallen back into a deep sleep; his face, though still pale, looked far better than before. He turned to Yun Jiao.

“Daoist Yun, is he all right now?”

Yun Jiao stepped forward again, took his pulse, and checked him carefully before replying,

“The curse seal has been removed. His life is no longer in danger, but his body is severely weakened. He’ll need time to recover. I’ll prescribe a medicinal decoction—make sure he drinks it once he wakes.”

At that, everyone let out a collective sigh of relief. The young spirit physician nearby looked overjoyed.

“Master Yun truly possesses extraordinary skill. We were all at a loss, yet you not only found the curse’s mark but dispelled it entirely!”

“I didn’t do much,” Yun Jiao said honestly. Without Wenqing’s help, she might not have been able to extract the mark so swiftly.

The others only smiled more warmly, clearly seeing her words as humble modesty.

Xu Qingfeng couldn’t help but sigh in admiration.

“Daoist Yun, you’re too polite. Your healing arts are truly enviable.”

Not to mention—she was proficient in both medicine and formation techniques.

Yun Jiao blinked, realizing they weren’t just being polite. After a pause, she said earnestly,

“If you want to learn, I can teach you.”

“NO!”

“Don’t!”

“Please don’t!”

“Absolutely not!”

Σ(°△°|||)︴

The word “no” resounded four times in unison. All four men looked as if they’d just seen a ghost—their faces drained of color, their eyes wide with horror.

Yun Jiao: “……”

Why does this feel so insulting?

Was her tuition really that expensive?

“Ahem…” Xu Qingfeng coughed awkwardly, realizing their reaction had been too sharp. He forced a laugh.

“Ah—Daoist Yun, thank you for your hard work! It’s a relief that the curse is gone—yes, that’s what matters!”

“Heh-heh… indeed, indeed!” another elder quickly chimed in. As long as we’re not dragged into her lessons, anything’s fine.

He hurried to change the subject.

“Patriarch Yu is the head of one of the six great families. If something had happened to him, the Yu Clan would’ve been thrown into chaos. Thank goodness it’s resolved.”

“Not necessarily.”

The new voice cut through their relief like a knife.

Everyone turned—Wenqing’s expression was dark, his brows drawn tightly together. Even his long white hair seemed dimmer, as if weighed down by his worry.

“This matter… might not end with just one Blooming Curse.”

“What do you mean, Senior?” Xu Qingfeng asked, hearing the implication in his tone.

Wenqing looked up at the gaping hole in the ceiling where the corrosive black mist had eaten through. After a long silence, he said gravely,

“Do you know the origin of this curse?”

All of them—including Yun Jiao—stared at him in surprise.

The origin?

A curse like this usually came from either malice or misfortune—what “origin” could it have?

Wenqing sighed, glanced briefly at Yun Jiao, as though hesitating whether to speak. Finally, he continued,

“Have any of you heard the name… Chi Xiao?”

“Chi Xiao?!” Xu Qingfeng’s face blanched. “You mean—the Ghost General Chi Xiao of the Underworld?”

“Exactly.” Wenqing’s face grew heavier, his tone sinking.

“It is said that those who become Chi Xiao were once women of peerless beauty—born into suffering, trapped in brothels or places of pleasure, and who died unjustly. Because their grievances could not be released, even in the Underworld they found no peace, and thus transformed into ghost generals consumed by wrath.”

“But… what does that have to do with the Yu Patriarch’s curse?” one of the elders asked.

“Ghost generals are no ordinary spirits,” Wenqing said grimly. “Each possesses a unique and terrible power.

Chi Xiao’s spectral body, tainted by eternal resentment, corrupts everything it touches. Whether spirit or mortal, anyone who comes within ten feet of her will be devoured by her malice and vitality drained away. That is the essence of—”

“The Blooming Curse,” Yun Jiao said, her face turning cold as she finished his sentence.

Everyone in the room gasped.

Xu Qingfeng was the first to find his voice, though it trembled.

“Senior, you mean… if someone has been afflicted by the Blooming Curse, then…”

“Then Chi Xiao has already returned to the mortal realm.”

Xu Qingfeng’s face went deathly pale. Realizing the implications, he turned sharply to one of the elders.

“Elder Li! Quickly—send word to the Yu family! Lock down the entire compound, and evacuate everyone in West City!”

“Yes—right away!” The elder bolted out the door.

Xu hurriedly pulled out his communication talisman to alert the others—but before he could activate it, a disciple burst in, breathless and panicked.

“Hall Master—it’s terrible! West City is in chaos!”

Everyone froze.

“……”

---

That same afternoon, when the Yu Patriarch had gone to the Celestial Masters Hall for help, disaster struck West City.

A mysterious sickness spread like wildfire—half the city’s residents suddenly collapsed unconscious.

The first to fall were the members of the Yu Clan.

Every physician in the city was helpless. Worse still, those who fainted began to age before their eyes. Within a single day, their hair turned white and their skin wrinkled, until they were shriveled old husks.

With the patriarch gone, the Yu family was leaderless. Most of the afflicted were clan members, and by the time the Celestial Masters Hall received word, more than half the victims were already dead.

Yun Jiao and the others rushed to West City.

The sight that met them was haunting—streets half-empty, corpses lying everywhere, their faces sunken, white-haired, emaciated.

The air itself felt heavy with death.

Even the seasoned exorcists of the Hall went pale.

“This is… slaughter,” one whispered.

Yun Jiao knelt beside a fallen man, checking pulse after pulse.

“Well?” Xu Qingfeng asked urgently.

Yun Jiao closed her eyes, then exhaled softly.

“It’s too late. Their vitality is completely gone—they’ve been dead for hours.”

Rage flared in Xu Qingfeng’s chest.

This wasn’t an epidemic—it was a massacre.

That ghost general, Chi Xiao, had to still be here.

But spirits from the Underworld weren’t supposed to return to the mortal plane.

How had she escaped?!

“Everyone stay alert!” he commanded, his voice like thunder. “Don’t let her resentment touch you. That ghost is still hiding somewhere in the city. Find her—now!”

“No need.”

Yun Jiao raised a hand, her face as cold as iron.

“She’s there.”

She pointed toward the east of the city—toward a place where black mists roiled thick in the air.

“That direction…” Xu Qingfeng frowned. He couldn’t see the dark aura himself, but he could sense faint traces of a barrier formation in that area.

“That’s the Yu family estate.”

His heart sank.

The Yu Patriarch had been the first victim—of course the ghost would be there.

That formation must have been hastily erected by the Yu family to seal her in, if only temporarily.

Xu scanned the streets full of corpses, then turned to Yun Jiao, hesitation flickering in his eyes.

“Daoist Yun…”

He had brought many people with him—mostly ordinary disciples. Taking them to confront a ghost general would be suicide. Yet if they left, there might still be survivors hidden among the ruins.

“You go,” Yun Jiao said first, firm and calm.

“I’ll stay and look for any who might still be alive.”

She nodded toward Wenqing. “With my uncle here, you’ll be fine.”

Wenqing smiled faintly. “Don’t worry, little niece. I’ll keep them safe.”

Then his gaze shifted toward the east, and his expression darkened again.

This mess was far worse than he’d imagined.

Whoever had dared unleash Chi Xiao on the human realm had clearly ignored every heavenly warning—and now he was the one cleaning up their disaster.

He clenched his fists, suppressing the urge to storm back to the Celestial Realm and throttle a few old fools on the spot.

He only hoped their master wouldn’t be too angry this time.

(End of Chapter)