Human gu?

How could that be?

Ziqing thought she must have misheard, asking in astonishment, “What did you say?”

“Human gu!” Xinyun’s voice was almost devoid of emotion.

Human gu!

Ziqing had clearly smelled the scent of poison corpses—she’d assumed more poison corpses had appeared. How could it be human gu instead?

To Ziqing, those two words were nothing short of a nightmare!

Because she herself had once nearly been cultivated into a human gu. Her precious Xiong Bao had also once nearly become one!

Yet amid her shock and panic, Ziqing quickly noticed something off about the scent—beneath the intense poison, this scent lacked the characteristic rotten stench of poison corpses.

Could it really be true?

Ziqing stared at Xinyun in disbelief, but Xinyun remained unmoved.

“Why would there be human gu here! Why?!” Ziqing demanded angrily. What exactly was going on?

They had worked so hard to find the complete Lishang, worked so hard to play it. Hadn’t they said Lishang would bring them home? Hadn’t they said there was no sorrow here?

Then why, after all this effort to reach the Lishang illusion realm, all the way to this point, was it still this hard?

Why had she seen the isolated island, yet not seen the people of the isolated island—only a small island in the process of sinking?

Why was there not just sorrow here, but so much danger, and even this nightmare called human gu?

What exactly was the truth?

What exactly was going on with all of this?

A lump of frustration sat lodged in Ziqing’s chest, neither rising nor settling, making her want to scream it all out. Yet Xinyun beside her remained unmoved, staring fixedly ahead.

Furious enough to want to kill someone, Ziqing suddenly grabbed Xinyun’s throat and said coldly, “If you don’t tell me the truth right now, I’ll kill you first!”

Xinyun simply said coldly, “I can’t die.”

Those words reminded Ziqing—this woman was a spirit. In the Lishang illusion realm, how could a spirit die?

Ziqing was both furious and frustrated. Just then, a dark figure slowly approached from the distance.

Ziqing froze. She knew—it was him!

That figure, clad entirely in black from head to toe, revealed nothing but a pair of eyes as sharp as a hawk’s.

“No—”

Almost immediately, Ziqing dismissed her own guess. This black-clad figure wasn’t a man. Though the build looked masculine, if this was truly a human gu, it absolutely couldn’t be a man—it had to be a woman!

Because women had a yin constitution, and only a yin constitution could cultivate a human gu!

This tall, imposing black-clad figure was a woman!

“So it’s her?” Ziqing murmured to herself.

At this, Xinyun smiled. “The Nanzhao Great Gu Master—the pride of your isolated island clan—that’s her.” At these words, Ziqing was shocked once more, one surprise after another beyond her expectations. She’d always assumed the Great Gu Master was a man, never imagining the Great Gu Master was actually a woman!

Thinking back on it, no one had ever actually investigated the Great Gu Master’s gender!

But Ziqing wasn’t fixated on the question of gender—what concerned her more was why the Great Gu Master had become a human gu herself.

Could it be that the Great Gu Master was also a direct descendant of the isolated island’s bloodline? The isolated island’s direct lineage wasn’t like other clans’ so-called direct lines—the isolated island’s lineage was passed down through a single unbroken line, with no secondary branches ever emerging.

Could the Great Gu Master, like herself, belong to the Nanzhao musician’s own bloodline?

But then why had the Nanzhao musician never mentioned this to his descendants?

Ziqing racked her brain without finding an answer. As the black-clad Great Gu Master drew closer, she could see her more and more clearly—her eyes were completely unlike those of a normal person!

Who had cultivated her into a human gu?

Xinyun seemed to have seen through all of Ziqing’s confusion. She sneered coldly—there was no point in being coy with Han Ziqing at this point.

“He’s the Nanzhao musician’s twin sister,” Xinyun said with a cold sneer, finding even her own words ironic as she spoke them.

Ziqing sucked in a sharp breath of cold air. She thought that in this lifetime, she never could have imagined such a thing!

No wonder! So they were of the same bloodline after all!

“She cultivated herself into a human gu. By the time the Nanzhao royal family discovered she could produce human gu, she was already one herself,” Xinyun recounted quietly. Watching the Great Gu Master draw closer, she was clearly somewhat afraid, though she kept forcing herself to appear indifferent.

Ziqing was too stunned to speak, realizing that all her past guesses, all her past discoveries had been so laughably wrong. So this was the truth!

Cultivating oneself into a human gu—what did that even mean?

It meant there was no gu-cultivator controlling her. It meant no one could manipulate her. It meant she possessed her own consciousness!

How terrifying!

She was nothing short of a monster!

Not only conscious, but also invulnerable to blade and spear, immune to every poison, with astonishing mastery of poison arts—who in this world could possibly do anything to stop her?

“The Nanzhao royal family was the most ignorant of all. By the time they discovered she could produce human gu, she wasn’t just a human gu herself—she’d already turned the isolated island’s clan members into poison corpses too! But self-cultivation has one fatal weakness: she isn’t truly immortal. She needs a constant supply of poison to sustain herself,” Xinyun continued.

“So she sought out the world of poisonous beasts not to cultivate human gu, but simply to possess poisonous beasts for herself!” Ziqing suddenly understood, realizing that everything they’d previously believed had been utterly, wildly wrong—and the Nanzhao royal family truly had been the most ignorant of all!

“Yes. And it was precisely because of her greed that her own brother, the Nanzhao musician, discovered her. When the Nanzhao royal family executed her, her body was destroyed and she returned to the isolated island—only to find the Nanzhao musician already waiting for her there.”

“The poison corpses we encountered in our imperial palace—those were the ones he cultivated, using the isolated island’s clan members?” Ziqing asked angrily.

Xinyun remained unmoved. “Of course. The isolated island’s clan members had a constitution naturally suited to cultivating poison. Back then, the Nanzhao musician played the illusion melody Lishang on the isolated island—it could not only seize souls, but seize people’s very bodies as well, trapping them in another dimension.”

“So those poison corpses were brought in by the Nanzhao musician, and the Great Gu Master was brought in by the Nanzhao musician too?” Ziqing was beginning to understand it all, vaguely.

As they spoke, the Great Gu Master had drawn near. Seemingly aware they were protected by a barrier, she didn’t press closer, instead standing off to the side, her cold eyes studying Ziqing with idle interest.

That eerie gaze made Ziqing’s skin crawl, and Xinyun too was clearly afraid.

“Who are you, and why are you here?” Ziqing asked, suppressing her fear, determined to seize this chance to get answers.

“Me? Heh. I’m just a foolish woman,” Xinyun said, turning to glance back at the tightly shut gate, as if a single glance at it could give her the strength not to feel so afraid.

“Lishang is a duet. The Nanzhao musician’s partner is inside there. His name is Nangong Jun.” At this, Xinyun smiled faintly. “You guessed right—he’s Jinjiao, king of the sea. Back then, he and the Nanzhao musician played Lishang together on the isolated island, seizing away the poison corpses, and seizing away the last remaining handful of Nanzhao clan members too. But they couldn’t take the Great Gu Master with them.”

Hearing Xinyun say this, Ziqing felt nothing but shock upon shock. The truth had come so slowly, yet arrived so suddenly.

She said nothing, boldly meeting the Great Gu Master’s scrutinizing gaze, and listened as Xinyun continued.