Chapter Forty-One: Breaking the Gu Poison

Witnesses? What use are they? Tang Guang rasped in reply.

Gu Qingcheng turned her face away from Tang Guang and gave Guan Wen a subtle wink.

Mr. Guan, Miss Baoling, are you willing to be witnesses for Tang Guang? As long as he reveals a valuable secret, I, Gu Qingcheng, will spare him—no harm will come to him a second time. As she spoke, Gu Qingcheng winked again.

Guan Wen understood instantly and responded, “We are willing to testify.”

Gu Qingcheng’s arrival shattered the deadlock Tang Guang had so carefully orchestrated. She had saved Guan Wen’s life, so he naturally followed her lead.

With their testimony, neither of us will break our word. What do you say? You reveal your secret, then you’re free to go—no need to fear any retribution. How about it? Gu Qingcheng nodded at Guan Wen, then turned back, pressing Tang Guang further.

You’ll really let me go? Tang Guang was half suspicious, but the gentle smile on Gu Qingcheng’s face eased his wariness. In this situation, survival meant he had no choice but to trust her.

Absolutely. Gu Qingcheng nodded earnestly. I’ve wandered the underworld for years and never broken my word. Without trust, how can one survive in this world? You’re worth five million, but if your secret is worth fifty million, which should I choose—the big or the small? Even a fool could see the answer. This is just a transaction; rest assured...

Miss Gu, may I say something? Guan Wen spoke up.

Please, go ahead. Gu Qingcheng was uncommonly polite to him.

Both Baoling and I have been poisoned by Tang Guang’s gu. Can you add to your deal the condition that you help us break the curse? Now that the situation had shifted, Guan Wen was worried about Baoling’s health and raised the request in time. The death of Master Tianjiu saddened him, but there was nothing he could do.

Break the curse? That’s simple—it’s a trivial matter. No need to trouble Mr. Tang. Gu Qingcheng agreed readily.

You can break the curse? Are you joking? Tang Guang doubted her.

I can. Gu Qingcheng smiled, took Guan Wen’s right arm, rolled up his sleeve, and studied the motionless insect for several seconds. Then she pulled a palm-sized stainless steel round box from her pocket.

The target of the Nine-Day Demon Silkworm gu is the victim’s brain and heart, but it only activates in its adult phase. Right now, it’s just a larva. If I inject a tiny amount of toxin into it—not even more than one-thousandth of a milliliter—it’ll die and be expelled through sweat. Isn’t that so, Mr. Tang? As she spoke, Gu Qingcheng took a glass syringe from the round box, half-filled with pale pink liquid.

Tang Guang smirked in silence, but his expression had grown unnatural.

Gu Qingcheng expertly pressed the needle into Guan Wen’s right arm, directly targeting the insect’s core. With a gentle push, the pink liquid seeped into the creature and spread outward like watercolor.

Done. Gu Qingcheng put away the syringe and glanced at Baoling. She’s fine. Tang Guang only cursed her to deal with me. Neither the Nine-Day Demon Silkworm nor the Earthfire Stream would leave a trace in her body. I suppose, for such a beautiful girl, Mr. Tang has always shown mercy and would never hurt her.

Guan Wen finally breathed a sigh of relief, his heart settling.

He loved Baoling; her safety mattered more than his own life.

It’s all right now. He stretched out his hand, and Baoling came obediently, holding his hand and nestling close to him.

I couldn’t care less about mercy. She’s so beautiful—I wanted to kill her and roast her... She’d be so delicious, tender, soft, and chewy... Speaking of killing and eating, Tang Guang’s face suddenly flushed with excitement.

Oh, Mr. Tang, what an appetite! But I fear few would share such a taste in this world. Now, I’ve shown my sincerity—of course, if you’re interested in my curse-breaking ‘Liberator,’ I’ll give it to you as well. Just tell me the whereabouts of Golden Cicada in Rikaze and Lhasa, and his major hideouts in Nepal, and we have a deal. Gu Qingcheng spoke at length but never strayed from the point, her words always circling Golden Cicada.

All right, I can work with you. But first, tell me—is that really the latest ‘Liberator’ developed by America’s Area 51? They say it can violently break all known Chinese gu arts, wiping out every visible and invisible gu insect. I truly doubt Area 51’s technology is that advanced. Tang Guang was tempted.

The ‘Liberator’ is right here. After leaving Xizang, Mr. Tang, you may study it at your leisure. Gu Qingcheng bent down, placed the round box on the ground, and kicked it toward Tang Guang.

You’re just a bounty hunter—how could you easily obtain Area 51’s high-tech products? Tang Guang was still suspicious.

Mr. Tang, the world in the twenty-first century changes faster than ever. Someone traded a brooch online and eventually swapped it for a hundred-year-old Spanish castle... See? If a little brooch can be exchanged for a castle, what’s impossible? Don’t think the Azure Dragon Society is the world’s invincible gang—the world is vast beyond measure. Always looking at the sky from the bottom of a well—what’s the point? As a bounty hunter, money is all I see; nothing else matters. Whatever you said or did, I’ve already forgotten.

Basang gratefully grasped Guan Wen’s hand, saying not a word; all his guilt and remorse were expressed in silence.

Gu Qingcheng led the way, and the four of them together left the cellar.

The sky had turned yellow-gray, and in the distance, they saw the ancient walnut tree, its vast canopy drifting across the land like idle clouds. Few travelers passed by; the world was wide and empty, and the great tree had become the master of this place, merging with heaven and earth. Compared to it, the visitors arriving to admire it were as insignificant as ants.

Travelers only see the famous walnut god-tree, never suspecting the Azure Dragon Society’s nest lies beneath its roots. In truth, many things in this world are just like that—ordinary people are content with food and money, health and happiness. They care nothing for what happens beneath the surface of society. Sometimes, I think that living as an oblivious, idle, ordinary person is a kind of happiness. Gu Qingcheng seemed moved by this thought.

They climbed into the car Basang drove and headed for Tashilhunpo Monastery.

Guan Wen realized Gu Qingcheng could not be acting alone, for he had not seen her car. In Lhasa, he had witnessed Gu Qingcheng, then still known as the Sage of Ice, in secret talks with Old Dao, proving they were allies.

He had no wish to reveal this now; stirring up trouble served no purpose at the moment.

Basang, take us back to the family inn first. We need a brief rest before we move again tomorrow. Guan Wen patted Basang’s shoulder.

In the distance, Tashilhunpo Monastery came into view, its layered halls arranged from low to high against the gray-blue background of the Nyiseri Mountains. Evening was gathering, and the thousand-year-old monastery’s night was about to begin.

Dawn and dusk always stirred Guan Wen’s artistic inspiration. He had a strange feeling—the original intent behind the ancient “Xizang Demon Suppression Painting” was not to praise a king and two princesses, but to warn of impending doom. The thangka’s transmission was meant to remind the world that the Rakshasa Demoness still existed and her threat to humanity persisted.

Banishing evil is never easy, yet Master Cheng, Master Tianjiu, and others had given their lives for the cause. If their descendants do not strive with all their might, how can they face those who sacrificed before them? Even if their strength is but a drop in the ocean, they must press forward without hesitation. Guan Wen sighed quietly, feeling the weight on his shoulders grow heavier and heavier.