Chapter 119: Revisiting the Tianshi Hall

The morning after Yun Qiao woke, she received a transmission from Hall Master Xu. The comatose patients had already been transferred to the Tianshi Hall. She wasted no time — after giving the old man a few brief instructions, she set out immediately.

“Daoist Yun!” Xu Qingfeng and several elders were already waiting by the teleportation array. When Yun Qiao stepped out, Xu’s eyes brightened, and he hurried over. “We heard from Daoist Bai that you were unwell and in seclusion yesterday. Are you feeling better?”

“Resting?” Yun Qiao’s expression twitched slightly. Yesterday she’d spent the whole afternoon cooking after merging a Xuan Vein. That’s your idea of rest? But she didn’t bother to correct him. “I’m fine now. Where are the patients?”

“They’re in the side hall,” Xu replied quickly, motioning for her to follow.

They walked down the corridor and soon entered a spacious hall. Inside were four or five rows of makeshift beds, each one occupied by someone lying motionless. At first glance, the patients looked merely asleep — peaceful, even — but when Yun Qiao listened closely, she could hear their shallow, fragile breathing, faint as spider silk. There were more than thirty of them in total.

So many?

She stepped forward and instinctively took the pulse of the nearest person, then checked his body carefully. Xu had been right — this man’s vital essence was nearly depleted, and there was no sign of recovery. Oddly, his physical body was perfectly healthy; it was as though he were simply napping. No lingering traces of the Shaohua Curse remained.

“According to the Yu family,” Xu explained, “they tried using the Springwood Formation and Gui Xi incense to restore their master’s vitality — both failed.”

Yun Qiao’s brow furrowed. Those were both high-grade restorative techniques. Normally, regaining vitality should have been easy. If even those didn’t work, then something was very wrong.

Suppressing her unease, she methodically checked every patient in the hall. Each one was the same — their bodies were fine, but their life force was dwindling, like candles flickering in the wind. The Yu family’s patriarch was the weakest of all; his vitality was barely a spark.

“Daoist Yun, did you discover anything?” Xu asked anxiously.

She shook her head. “No. This isn’t a side effect of the Shaohua Curse. The residual malice was completely purged.”

Xu’s face fell. “Even you can’t find the cause… It must be the Yu family’s destined calamity, then.”

At that, several Yu disciples standing nearby grew pale. One middle-aged man clenched his fists, his voice trembling. “Master Yun, are you saying… our family head will never wake again?”

Yun Qiao’s tone turned solemn. “I can’t be certain. But life force fades continuously. If his vitality is not restored…” She stopped herself, unwilling to finish the sentence.

The men’s faces blanched regardless. One of them forced out, “Then… how long does he have?”

Yun Qiao estimated silently, then spoke with quiet honesty. “Seven days. At most.”

Her words hit like a hammer. One disciple choked on a sob, covering his mouth, while another bowed deeply to her. “Thank you for telling us the truth.” They had suspected as much — they’d already consulted countless healers. Bringing him here had been their last hope, but even that hope was fading.

Yun Qiao exhaled slowly. She’d long since grown used to life and death, yet each time she faced such despair, the heaviness still pressed on her chest.

When the Yu family disciples composed themselves, they turned to Xu Qingfeng. “Hall Master, thank you for your help. Since our master’s time is short, we will take him home.”

Xu nodded in understanding. “I’ll have my disciples escort you back. May the Yu family endure this hardship.”

The man bowed again and turned to lift the patriarch from his bed—

“Wait!” Yun Qiao’s sharp voice stopped him mid-motion. “Don’t move him.”

The disciples froze, exchanging confused looks. Yun Qiao’s gaze was fixed on the patriarch’s back, her expression unusually grave.

“W-what is it?” Xu asked, startled. “Daoist Yun, did you notice something?”

She pointed directly at the man. “His back…”

“His back?” Xu turned to look, but saw nothing unusual. “What about it?”

“You can’t see it?” Yun Qiao blinked in surprise. “There’s a silver thread attached to his back — very thin, almost invisible.”

“A… thread?” Xu leaned closer, peering hard, but there was nothing there. “Where? I don’t see anything.”

Yun Qiao frowned. Could it be the Heavenly Eye technique letting me see this? “Never mind,” she said quickly. “Hall Master, turn everyone else over. I need to check their backs.”

“O-oh! Right away!” Xu gestured for several disciples to help. One by one, they carefully rolled the comatose patients onto their stomachs.

Yun Qiao’s suspicions were confirmed — every single one of them had the same thread. Faint, silver-white, nearly transparent, it shimmered like mist in sunlight. If not for her sight, she might have missed it entirely.

She reached out and brushed a fingertip along one. A delicate current of energy rippled beneath her skin — vital essence.

Following it with her gaze, she realized each thread was broken. Some had snapped close to the skin, only two or three inches long; others extended one or two meters before ending abruptly, as if once connected to something that had been violently severed.

Her thoughts raced, piecing together every clue she’d gathered so far. At last, her eyes hardened. “I understand why their vitality never returned.”

“What?!” Xu’s voice was sharp with hope. “Daoist Yun, what did you find?”

Instead of answering, Yun Qiao turned toward him and asked, “Hall Master Xu, when we last spoke, you said there were only a dozen comatose victims, correct? So why are there more than thirty now?”

Xu hesitated, but a Yu disciple answered for him. “Because in the past few days, several of those who had already woken suddenly collapsed again.”

“In other words,” Yun Qiao said slowly, “none of those affected by the Shaohua Curse ever truly recovered their vitality?”

The disciple nodded heavily. “It… seems that way.”

Yun Qiao’s gaze deepened, cold realization flickering through her mind.

The curse had been cleansed, yes — but something, or someone, was still feeding on their life force.

(End of Chapter)