The reason Jiu’er had chosen to wait until after parting ways with Snow Maiden before sending Qiao Mu back was this: if Snow Maiden knew that not even Qiao Mu would be at Jiu’er’s side, she would never have allowed it.

Qiao Mu’s heart was in turmoil — half unable to stop worrying about Jiu’er and Feng Yinan, half genuinely unable to let go of her concern for Xiao Yingtao.

“Stop hesitating. Get back quickly. I don’t have time to convince you further.” Jiu’er glanced at her lightly.

The look was not forceful, yet Qiao Mu understood — once Jiu’er had decided something, very few people could change it.

If she was being sent back, back she had to go. To do otherwise would only disrupt every plan Jiu’er had laid.

“Then — take care, all of you. Be careful.” Qiao Mu clasped her hands, turned, and left.

Only then did Feng Yinan look at Jiu’er, a flicker of quiet concern in his eyes. “From how the moles behaved earlier, it seems quite a number of people have passed along this route. I can’t be certain, but I’d put the odds at about seventy percent.”

Many people had passed this way. Did that not suggest the forgers truly had come through here?

Feng Jiu’er considered briefly. “Let’s go and see for ourselves first.”

Feng Yinan nodded. “Understood.”

The moles led the way, but small animals and humans were plainly very different in temperament — and at the halfway point of the descent, one of the moles lost interest. It tilted its head to one side and vanished into the earth without so much as a second glance.

Feng Yinan looked at Feng Jiu’er with an apologetic expression. “My apologies. Let me call for another one.”

Jiu’er said nothing, simply nodding as she watched him.

But no matter how Feng Yinan called, not a single other mole seemed willing to answer.

Having spent this time with him, Jiu’er had come to understand a fair amount about Feng Yinan’s particular abilities. He could communicate with birds and carry messages by them. He could converse with rodents. Larger animals were also within his reach. She did not yet know the precise boundaries of what he could and could not do.

What she did know was that smaller creatures — insects, for instance — were entirely beyond his communication.

“There probably aren’t many small animals in this area.” Jiu’er came to a stop, and from her pack she withdrew a small vial of medicine. “There is likely some form of toxic miasma or poisonous gas further ahead. Yinan — come here and take this.”

“Yes.” Feng Yinan, who had been walking ahead, immediately turned back, took the medicinal pill from her hand, and swallowed it.

Further ahead, sure enough, there was miasma. No wonder Feng Yinan had been unable to find any moles or small animals in this area — it was because the small animals had simply refused to live here.

It also explained why the mole from earlier had declined to continue leading them. Animals’ sensitivity to danger far surpassed that of humans. They had known the path ahead was dangerous. To have brought them this far was already a complete act of goodwill on the creature’s part.

Jiu’er’s medicine would handle ordinary miasma with no difficulty. But as they pressed further forward, the miasma grew noticeably denser.

And gradually, that miasma seemed to carry something else mingled within it.

Jiu’er reached out and caught Feng Yinan’s arm, pulling him back behind her.

“Master…” Feng Yinan wanted to place himself in front of her. How could the master be shielding him?

But Feng Jiu’er said: “Don’t speak. This is not only miasma — there is another poison mixed within it. Wait here a moment. I’ll assess it.”

Feng Jiu’er’s body was the same as the one she had in the modern world — constitutionally immune to mild poisons and common toxins by nature.

Here, in an open space, even if the toxic gas was potent, being diluted within the miasma had already reduced its strength considerably. For Jiu’er, there was no real danger.

Even so, one look at Feng Yinan’s face told her that if this continued much longer, he would not be able to hold on.

Jiu’er breathed in deeply several times, then immediately reached into her pack and produced two small vials of medicine. She crushed a pill from each and blended the powder together before holding it out to Feng Yinan.

“Take this and regulate your breathing. Endure what you can.”

Sustained breath-holding was impossible for extended periods, but for a martial practitioner, reducing the rate and depth of one’s breathing for a stretch of time was achievable — it simply came at the cost of expending true energy.

They continued forward. Just as Feng Yinan was reaching the very edge of what he could endure, the hazy air suddenly cleared and freshened all around them.

“We’re through it.” Feng Yinan was on the verge of taking a great gasp of air.

Feng Jiu’er moved swiftly and clapped her hand over his mouth and nose, dropping her voice to the barest whisper: “The poison is heaviest right here. Don’t speak. Follow me.”

With that, she removed her hand from Feng Yinan, and moved ahead quickly.

Only then did Feng Yinan look down — and see, scattered across the ground all around them, fragments of bone.

Damn. He had nearly fallen for it. He had not imagined those people could be so thoroughly calculating and ruthless.

Who, having just made it through a vast stretch of heavy fog, would not instinctively take a great, relieved breath of what appeared to be clean air?

And that was precisely the cruelest part of their design — the air here was not clean at all.

Feng Yinan continued holding his breath, following quickly after Feng Jiu’er, until at last Jiu’er gave a small wave of her hand, signaling that it was safe. Only then did Feng Yinan open his mouth and breathe — deeply, ravenously.

At last. They had endured their way through that fog formation.

“This place is clearly hiding something significant.” After carefully observing the surroundings and detecting no signs of any ambush, Feng Yinan said quietly.

If it had been only natural miasma, that would have been one thing. But the presence of a man-made toxic fog on top of it could only mean someone had no desire for this place to be seen by the outside world.

Feng Jiu’er nodded. “They would have a specially prepared antidote to pass through safely. As for us — this level of toxic gas is no obstacle for me. Give me two hours and I can formulate an antidote.”

She had encountered this poison firsthand. As long as she had smelled it, she would know exactly what toxins had been used.

Feng Yinan’s admiration for her abilities was such that he could only bow inwardly in reverence — though at a time like this, no matter how great his admiration, there was nothing fitting to say.

The two pressed on ahead. With the miasma and toxic fog behind them, the path forward was markedly easier to navigate.

When Feng Yinan called for moles this time, it came far more readily than before.

“Master, a great many people have passed this way — in large numbers.” Feng Yinan rose from the ground, looking at Feng Jiu’er with excitement kindling in his eyes. “It appears we have found the right place.”

Yet Feng Jiu’er’s brow remained furrowed. Though she too felt they had found it — why had there been two separate routes?

Who were the people Snow Maiden’s path had been tracking? The small animals did not deceive. If they confirmed that many people had passed along that way as well, then there was certainly something or someone else moving separately in these parts.

“Let’s go ahead and look.” She still walked ahead of Feng Yinan, keeping him behind her. “Watch yourself.”

“Master…” Feng Yinan still felt it was entirely inappropriate that he should be walking behind the master in a situation like this.

But under these circumstances, he could only follow her lead first.

Jiu’er moved forward with careful deliberateness, yet all along the route she detected not a single sign of any hidden presence, no sensation of being watched or ambushed. The whole path was eerily still — carrying not the quietness of safety, but the quietness of decay. The quietness of something at the very edge of death.

A path walked by so many — why should it carry this kind of air? Why was there not even the faintest trace of living presence?