Chapter 30 (Part 2)

She had boiled the egg, solidifying its essence. Originally, he had intended to refine it in a vessel when needed.

With no other choice now and no container at hand, he used his own body as a vessel.

Despite his sacrifice, she showed no gratitude. Instead, she bit him viciously.

Rong Shang released her, casually wiping away the blood from the corner of his lips with his thumb. “Ungrateful wolf,” he said coldly.

Without another word, he strode out of the room. At the bamboo table, he smeared the blood on his finger onto the spirit grass.

When he had once slaughtered the East Sea Dragons, their scales turned into bloody rain that fell across the lands, corrupting the soil and depriving wood-spirit cultivators of their source of spiritual energy.

A thousand years had passed, and the corrupted soil had turned fertile again. But spirit grass, unable to sense wood-spirit essence, required the blood of a dragon descendant to grow properly.

If she didn’t build her strength and the Chongming Bird egg’s effects wore off in a few days, she would be wailing for help again.

He wasn’t a Chongming Bird and couldn’t provide her with another egg.

By aiding her cultivation now, she could endure the next bout of pain on her own. He wouldn’t bother with such trivialities anymore.

Watching his retreating figure, Yu Zhengzheng was utterly perplexed. Only after a long while did she realize the pain had vanished.

Not only was the pain gone, but her body felt weightless, the fatigue swept away. She felt as free as a fish swimming in the ocean.

Puzzled, she glanced at the bamboo table. The spirit grass there had grown two inches taller, and a small bud had appeared at its core.

Rubbing her eyes, she suspected she was seeing things.

But no matter how many times she looked, the changes remained.

She got off the bed and cradled the spirit grass, staring at it in disbelief. Finally, she pinched her thigh hard to ensure she wasn’t dreaming.

Her spirit grass was about to bloom and bear fruit?!

Wood-spirit cultivators fell into three categories. The first group could grow flowers but produced no fruit, indicating little talent. These cultivators rarely ascended, their limit being the Nascent Soul stage.

The second group grew red fruits, signifying mastery. Such cultivators could manipulate plants at will, using them for both offense and defense.

The rarest group bore green fruits, symbolizing healing. These cultivators possessed unparalleled restorative abilities, capable of reviving even fragmented souls. They had been extinct for tens of thousands of years.

Yu Zhengzheng had never dared to hope for fruit. The mere thought of her spirit grass blooming was enough to thrill her.

As she laughed in joy, her smile froze.

He had kissed her earlier. Since then, her pain had vanished, and the spirit grass had flourished. Could this miraculous change be due to that kiss?

It must be. He had said before that dual cultivation could enhance her strength. After that kiss, the spirit grass had responded.

Yu Zhengzheng’s face clouded with worry.

She could refuse to cultivate, but she couldn’t endure the poison’s torment. If this was truly the case, would she have to kiss him every time before the poison flared to prolong her life?

Thinking of his cold, emotionless face, she shuddered involuntarily.

Forget it. She’d survived this time. She’d figure out how to kiss him again before the next attack.

That night, Yu Zhengzheng slept peacefully for the first time. At dawn, she awoke refreshed and energetic.

Cultivation was truly transformative. She had always struggled to wake up, her mind groggy until midday.

Eager to share her joy with Shan Shui, she opened her door, only to find Shan Shui squatting outside like a statue.

Shan Shui’s eyes were red and swollen. Upon seeing her, she lunged forward and clung to Yu Zhengzheng. “Zhengzheng, Master doesn’t want me anymore!”

Yu Zhengzheng froze. “What happened?”

Tears and snot streaming down her face, Shan Shui wailed, “Last night, Master went to apply medicine for Miss Anning, and when he came back, he said he wants to sleep separately from me…”

“Ever since Master picked me up from the Sacred Spring Sky Stairs, we’ve never slept apart. Did I do something wrong to upset Master?”

Her nose was red from crying. Yuzhengzheng, overwhelmed, tried to console her. “Don’t cry, don’t cry. How about I go and ask him for you?”

By “asking,” she meant confronting An Ning.

She suspected An Ning might have said something to Xiangfeng last night; otherwise, why would he suddenly decide to separate from Shanshui?

Shanshui sobbed, her body trembling with grievance. “But if you go looking for Miss An Ning, won’t Master be even angrier if he finds out?”

Yuzhengzheng patted her shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I’ll go test the waters with An Ning. If your Master asks, just say it was all my idea.”

After consoling Shanshui further and waiting for her emotions to settle, Yuzhengzheng headed to An Ning’s bamboo hut. Without hesitation, she pushed the door open.

She had considered knocking, but she thought better of it. She was here to confront An Ning, and knocking would make her seem less assertive.

She hesitated briefly at the entrance but ultimately chose to barge in.

An Ning, looking startled, hastily adjusted her robes and sat up from the bed. “How polite of you, Miss Yu, entering someone’s private room without so much as a knock.”

Yuzhengzheng raised an eyebrow. An Ning, who always acted meek and timid in front of Xiangfeng, now seemed sharp-tongued and unrestrained.

So, she thought, this An Ning was nothing more than a high-level schemer.

Yuzhengzheng wasted no time and sat down casually on a bamboo chair. “Last night, Protector Xiang came to apply medicine for you. Did the two of you talk for long?”

An Ning frowned. “And what does that have to do with you?”

Yuzhengzheng sneered, about to retort when her eyes caught a glimpse of a fabric edge peeking out from the wardrobe’s crack.

The material was black satin embroidered with cloud patterns—clearly a man’s robe.

Her heart skipped a beat as she recalled An Ning’s fleeting look of panic when she had barged in earlier.

Could it be… there was a man hiding in An Ning’s wardrobe right now?