Whatever it took, curing the Charm Fragrance was curing it — even if it meant handing over half a body’s blood just to keep her life, Ziqing would gladly do it!

The trouble was, her blood carried the secret of her origins, the secret behind that face of hers that struck such fear into others. Though this body hadn’t originally belonged to her, it had long since fused with her soul.

If she lost the special nature of that blood, wouldn’t that sever her connection to the Solitary Isle entirely?

Hearing her words, the Old Man of the Poison Den let out a strange, mocking laugh. “Little girl, don’t you know that speaking the words ‘Solitary Isle’ in Nanzhao can get you burned at the stake?”

“Didn’t you just say them yourself?” Ziqing shot back.

The Old Man of the Poison Den laughed even more strangely, drawing out the end of his words. “Little girl, what’s so good about the Solitary Isle bloodline that you care so much? Have you ever been to the Solitary Isle?”

“Have you?” Ziqing countered, sensing instinctively that this old man had some connection to the Solitary Isle — likely the only person in all of Nanzhao who dared show such disrespect to the King of Nanzhao, the only one who dared discuss the Solitary Isle so freely with an outsider.

“Do you want to go?” the Old Man of the Poison Den asked instead of answering.

“Yes,” Ziqing answered honestly.

“You still haven’t answered my earlier question,” Ziqing pressed. “If I exchange my blood, will I no longer carry the Solitary Isle bloodline, and no longer be immune to all poisons?”

“Of course!”

“And if I don’t exchange my blood, and the Charm Fragrance stays in my body — what happens then?”

“Two possible outcomes. First, the potency could burn itself out completely over repeated small flare-ups. Second, those repeated small flare-ups could build toward one massive eruption.” The Old Man of the Poison Den drew out his words again, his laughter sly and gleeful, as if enjoying someone else’s misfortune.

“How long would that take?” Ziqing asked further.

“No one knows — not even the people of the Solitary Isle could give you an answer,” the Old Man of the Poison Den chuckled, his strange tone suddenly turning chillingly soft.

“How do you know so much?” Ziqing asked, suspicious.

“Leave me half your blood, and I’ll tell you more,” the Old Man of the Poison Den said, immediately stepping back until his whole body pressed against the wall.

What did this old man actually look like beneath that mask, acting so unhinged? And was any of what he said even true? If it weren’t for the fact that Jun Beiyue had gone to City Lord Situ for help, and that the City Lord himself had personally sought this man out, Ziqing might well have suspected he was simply a madman.

Ziqing had originally come just to gather information, and reckoning that her time was nearly up, she had no wish to press further. “Elder, I don’t wish to know any more for now. We’ll meet again.”

With that she turned and walked toward the door — but in an instant, a flash of red darted past and the Old Man of the Poison Den blocked her path, seemingly smirking beneath his mask.

“Little girl, how about this — leave me a drop of your blood, and I’ll tell you what I know.”

“Just one drop?” Ziqing asked, suspicious.

“Mm-hm!” the Old Man of the Poison Den nodded earnestly.

“I’ll take it myself,” Ziqing said, equally serious — a single drop of blood was no more to her than a drop of sweat.

The Old Man of the Poison Den immediately kicked open a nearby cabinet. “Bring a bowl over, let it drip in there.”

Ziqing did as told, wanting to ask something but holding her tongue — this old fellow really did seem to have no hands, using his feet for everything. Had she really seen wrong earlier, when he seemed to be fiddling with something in the corner using his hands?

Ziqing sliced her palm open, and the Old Man of the Poison Den leaned in at once — beneath the mask his expression seemed almost greedy, though he made no move, only watching with hungry eyes.

The blood dripped into the bottom of the porcelain bowl, and Ziqing quickly drew her hand back. If she weren’t immune to all poisons, she likely wouldn’t have dared come to a place like this alone.

This old fellow was not at all safe!

The Old Man of the Poison Den studied the blood at the bottom of the bowl, sniffed it, but didn’t spare it another glance — nor did he look at Ziqing again — before saying in a distant voice, “Little girl, Nanzhao has an old legend: to reach the Solitary Isle, one must ride a Divine Wood Boat.”

“A Divine Wood Boat?” Ziqing asked at once. “What is that?”

“A boat made from Sacred Wood — and by Sacred Wood, I mean the fusang tree,” the Old Man of the Poison Den said with a chuckle.

Ziqing wanted to ask more, but he suddenly raised both arms and stretched, yawning. “Little girl, you’d best head back now. Stay any longer, and you’ll never make it back at all!”

Ziqing was startled — so the old man did have hands after all, though even they were hidden beneath the crimson robe, invisible.

She wanted to ask more, but at that moment the door behind her swung open — the guard had arrived.

The Old Man of the Poison Den paid her no more attention, muttering unintelligibly to himself as he crouched back in the corner, fiddling with something against the wall, his back to her.

“Elder, I’ll come again!” Ziqing called as she followed the guard out — her time really had run out.

The Old Man of the Poison Den made no response. Only once the door had closed did he slowly rise to his feet.

Beneath the red robe, his hands kept fumbling and fumbling, until a pair of black gloves finally slipped off. The Old Man of the Poison Den let out a helpless sigh, then finally pulled back his wide sleeves, revealing at last the pair of hands he never used — fair, slender, and smooth as warm jade!

“Ah, why did that girl leave so quickly? I wasn’t even ready yet!”

He sighed, his voice low and gentle, and picked the gloves back up, struggling for quite some time before finally managing to put them back on…

By the time Ziqing left the Poison Den, dawn had already begun to break, faint and hazy. Her mind was full of questions, but she didn’t dare linger and hurried on her way. Fortunately she knew the return route well, and with daylight making everything easier to see, she moved far faster than she had coming in!

What Ziqing didn’t know was that not far ahead of her, Xuanyuan Lige was carrying the still-unconscious Xuanyuan Zhaoxi back up toward the mountaintop, moving even faster than she was!

By the time the sky was fully bright, Ziqing finally made it back to camp. Everyone had been thoroughly drunk the night before, and with the King of Nanzhao still not awake, most people wanted nothing more than a little extra sleep — they’d be traveling again today after all.

Seeing Ziqing return, Situ Haonan and Shiliang, who had kept watch all night, finally let out a breath of relief.

“Did everything go smoothly last night?” Ziqing asked the moment she walked in.

“Nothing happened except Chu Feiyan grumbling a bit outside the tent while drunk,” Situ Haonan said, sounding displeased.

“How was that handled?”

“Young Master Situ dragged her off, pretending to be drunk too,” Shiliang said, unable to hold back a laugh.

“And your side — did it go smoothly? What’s the situation, how is the poison to be cured?” Situ Haonan asked seriously. In such a short time, unless there was an actual antidote, no other method could possibly cure the poison — this trip of Ziqing’s could only have been to scout out the situation.

Ziqing told him everything in detail, and Situ Haonan immediately grew furious. “My father lied to us!”

“No, City Lord Situ only ever said there was a way to cure it — he never said how,” Ziqing said flatly.

“So what’s your plan now?” Situ Haonan asked seriously. A trip to Nanzhao wasn’t easy to arrange — if they didn’t seize this chance, the next one would have to be snuck in secretly, and there was only one way to do that: risk crossing the great snow-capped mountains between Nanzhao and Western Jing!

“Let’s find the fusang sacred wood first — there’s precious little of it left,” Ziqing said flatly. To her, the Old Man of the Poison Den’s significance no longer lay in curing the poison, but in what he knew of the Solitary Isle.

The fusang tree was already an extremely rare sacred wood — perhaps only a single country in the world could produce even one, and one large enough to build a boat from was rarer still!

Even without knowing exactly how it might be used yet, obtaining it first was always the safer course.

To her surprise, Situ Haonan said, “No need to search for it — I know exactly where one is, and I guarantee it’s large enough to build a boat!”

“Where!” Ziqing asked at once.

Situ Haonan looked at her for a long moment before saying flatly, “The Eastern Sea. Liuxian Island.”