The Ghost Orchid was in fact a variety of orchid — its form unusual, its entire body snow-white and nearly translucent. If one looked closely, there was also a faint dim-blue hue to it. Its petals were long and slender without a single filament, its stem bare of leaves, and from its pistil radiated tiny specks of faint white luminescence — like the glow of fireflies.

It typically grew in places like burial grounds, most often underground, and emerged to the surface only during specific periods of time. It was extraordinarily difficult to cultivate, and rarely encountered in the ordinary world.

In darkness, it emitted a white luminous glow — hence the folk belief that it was a flower of the underworld, said to have the miraculous power to raise the dead. Of course, this was largely the embellishment of common people, yet its medicinal value was equally well-attested. It was particularly prized as a medicinal ingredient because it was so difficult to cultivate.

Yet here, on the rock face at the very base of this bone pit, a whole cluster of Ghost Orchids had taken root — white as porcelain and crystalline, radiating a faint and extraordinary fragrance.

Lang Jiuchuan’s form flashed, and she alighted on a jutting stone in the rock face, reaching out to pluck one of the Ghost Orchid blossoms. Nurtured in an environment so saturated with yin malevolence, corpse miasma, and the energy of the dead — and they had grown with such tenacity, each and every one of them in superb condition. Did that not mean they were inherently immune to this corpse miasma?

Gazing at the crystalline bloom in her hand, an old saying long passed down through the ages suddenly rose in her mind: within seven paces of a lethal poison, there must be its antidote. Folk wisdom, yes — yet was it not also the accumulated survival experience of the countless living things that had tested it over time, and from that wisdom, passed the saying down?

Did that not mean — could the Ghost Orchid serve as medicine to neutralize the corpse-poison miasma?

Her fingertip grazed the petals. A force of supreme yin flowed into her — then transformed and gave birth to yang energy. Her heart jolted.

Supreme yin gives birth to yang.

She stared fixedly at the soft white light emanating from within the flower’s pistil — sacred and translucent, like a sanctified and purified life force. Her breathing quickened slightly, and a thought blazed through her mind like a bolt of lightning.

Use the Ghost Orchid as medicine.

This corpse poison was extreme yin and extreme malevolence — domineering and relentless. Conventional yang-natured medications — cinnabar, mugwort, and the like — could ward off evil, and those who had ingested them would be less inclined to bite and drink blood, but they could not eradicate the corpse poison in those already afflicted. They could only alleviate symptoms and restore lucidity. For the severely afflicted like Dazhu, the suffering was reduced somewhat — yet the already-corroded internal organs, when met by those medicinal decoctions, created a clash: the medicine, potent and forceful, would instead become too difficult to control, working against what little life remained.

But the Ghost Orchid was different. It grew from a place of supreme yin and dark resentment — capable of neutralizing, absorbing, and even assimilating corpse-poison yin-evil energy. All things in extreme states reverse — supreme yin gives birth to yang. The soft white radiance within the flower’s pistil might be precisely the vital force capable of suppressing and eradicating the corpse poison — a quality that also explained its medicinal properties.

How else could the claim of its power to raise the dead have arisen? Perhaps it was precisely this kind of vital force that reawakened what had fallen into decay.

The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became. Bright clarity blazed in her clear eyes. She had to get back and test it — if this flower truly worked as medicine, then the corpse plague could be cured.

“Jiangche, I suspect this Ghost Orchid can be used to develop an antidote for this corpse plague. We need to harvest all of them and bring them back for testing. Go and find a few large, thick leaves for me.” Lang Jiuchuan had no sealed container with her for preserving the flowers’ spiritual essence — but containing that essence was not difficult at all. She could use leaves as a box and apply a spirit-locking seal.

Jiangche, not having expected such an unexpected windfall, immediately bounded away.

Lang Jiuchuan laid down a small formation around this little patch, to prevent the chaos fire from spreading over here and incinerating the Ghost Orchids. That would be doing good deeds with terrible results.

While laying the formation, she disturbed two coal-black yin serpents in the middle of their winter hibernation. True enough — fine things always had creatures guarding them, even yin-sinister ones.

Jiangche returned quickly, carrying several large banana leaves in its mouth. Lang Jiuchuan fashioned a simple leaf-box, then began harvesting the Ghost Orchids and sealing them within it.

She moved swiftly, soon plucking several stalks — though she did not take every last one, leaving three blossoms on the rock face.

Once the leaf-box holding the Ghost Orchids had been sealed with a spirit-locking seal, Lang Jiuchuan did not let Jiangche go back alone, fearing it might encounter some accident on its own and destroy the Ghost Orchids for nothing.

She waited quietly for the corpse phantom to return to her lair.

“Do you think the corpse phantom will actually come? From what people say, she can disguise herself as a living person to deceive the world — ordinary people have no way of seeing through the flesh she wears over white bones. She has intelligence and sentience. If she senses that her lair has been destroyed, would she really come running back just to die?” Jiangche crouched beside her. “Do you think this bone pit was set up by that old monster Tantai Wuji?”

Lang Jiuchuan said: “I don’t know. But look at that coffin — situated in the formation eye, nourished by the supreme-yin earth vein energy and the dead-resentment force, waiting for the right moment for the corpse phantom to emerge and bring chaos to the world. Once the life-force and fortune of tens of thousands of people are harvested — who benefits? And do you not feel a strange sense of familiarity? Like how I was once sealed beneath the mausoleum formation eye, nourishing something alongside the dragon vein. This Luo Zheng here — nourished by corpse miasma — might she also be a killing weapon? The manner of our respective sealing differs, yet both serve a purpose, driven toward a single goal — does that not ring true? Wait — this Luo Zheng is most likely also of a supreme-yin constitution!”

Only a supreme-yin constitution could maximize her utility.

Jiangche hesitated for a moment, then said: “But that would completely contradict what he said about wanting Dapan to be stable and the national fortune to flourish. To speak plainly — if this corpse poison cannot be resolved and cannot be contained, all of Dapan becomes a living hell. What national fortune could there possibly be left? The dynasty would be finished.”

Lang Jiuchuan’s cold gaze fell upon empty space. “That is precisely why I had Gong Si relay the message to the Holy Maiden — asking him to come forward and save the world. It was equally a test. If he comes to save them, the common people should remain unharmed, and he gains yet another wave of faith and devotional power — even if this self-directed performance is the same as what happened in Pancheng. But if he does not come — then this outcome is precisely what he desires. If it is truly the latter, then his thousand-year scheme has likely entered its final stage.”

“Its final stage?”

“Exactly. If the final stage is at hand, it means whatever timing, conditions, or alignment of forces he has been waiting for has now fully ripened. He will move decisively — either to form his core and ascend to immortality, or to become the supreme ruler of this realm. In that case, to ensure his plan unfolds as he designed, the vast life energy and fortune of so many living beings will serve as his most powerful shield.”

Jiangche was shaken.

If that was truly the case, then he truly did need a massive catastrophe to harvest that life energy — such as the present corpse plague.

“Then the corpse phantom—”

“She likely cannot come back now.” Lang Jiuchuan rose to her feet, watching as the chaos fire consumed the bone pit — the countless white bones already reduced to ash, even the dead-resentment energy gradually fading, stripped of its purpose.

“The corpse phantom has already been unleashed as a killing weapon. Since she was deliberately cultivated, she is also controllable — she will not be sent back to die here in vain. Instead, she will be used to — accelerate the spread of the plague.” Lang Jiuchuan’s expression darkened. “We move. We need to get back and develop the antidote immediately.”

At that moment, Gong Tinglan sent another message: the corpse phantom’s aura had turned and headed north. As expected.

And simultaneously, a message arrived from Gong Si: the National Preceptor was in seclusion, praying for the welfare of all people — and had issued only a mystical decree calling upon the Buddhist and Daoist sects to relieve the suffering and heal the sick.

A surge of fierce, righteous fury rose within Lang Jiuchuan’s chest. She stared up at the heavens for a long moment.

Heaven sees nothing — then I will be the one to set things right.

Science note: “Within seven paces of any lethal poison, there must be its antidote” has no scientific basis and is used here purely for fictional purposes — please do not take it literally!

P.S. A not-so-warm reminder: your holiday time has been completely used up!

Replenishment note: I work every single day — no holidays. Are you feeling comforted yet?!