The guard led Jun Beiyue and Shiliang through the winding passages to the very same secret chamber Ziqing had once visited. Unlike the old man of the Poison Den, who was always shrouded entirely in black robes, this senior disciple Luocha, though also wearing a loose black robe, kept his hood down, revealing his face—clearly a man in his fifties or sixties.

Shiliang was inwardly startled—if this senior disciple was already so advanced in years, how ancient must the old man of the Poison Den himself be?

There was no exchange of pleasantries, only blunt negotiation. Luocha looked Jun Beiyue over and got straight to the point. “So this is the girl? Her constitution can cultivate poison?”

“Mm,” Jun Beiyue nodded.

“I’ll need a sample of her blood to see.” Luocha said coldly, personally bringing over a bowl of water and setting it before Shiliang.

Hearing this, Shiliang hesitated for a moment, glancing at Jun Beiyue, then obediently bit her finger and let a single drop of blood fall into the water.

Luocha examined it, seeming somewhat wary of Jun Beiyue, stepping back a considerable distance before adding something to the bloody water that Shiliang couldn’t identify. Instantly, a foul stench filled the air, uncannily like the smell of rotting flesh, and Shiliang couldn’t help but cover her mouth.

Jun Beiyue frowned, looking over. “How does she usually behave under your care? And here I thought you were a mercenary?”

“This servant spends most of her time attending to… her,” Shiliang answered, avoiding using the name “her” outright—whether out of long-standing habit or simple caution given their current location in the Poison Den, it was hard to say.

Since Prince Yao had discovered her constitution, a small secret had existed between them ever since.

Soon, Luocha nodded. “Indeed, her constitution is suited for cultivating poison!”

A poison-cultivating constitution was, in fact, a rare and unusual variant of the death-poison technique.

The standard method involved planting poison within a person’s body, administering a controlled amount of antidote regularly. Once the task was complete, the subject didn’t even need to take their own life by poison—the antidote in their bloodstream would simply run out over time, and death from poisoning would follow naturally.

The poison originally planted in Ziqing had been precisely this same death-poison—except that, being naturally poison-immune, the antidote posed no restriction on her whatsoever.

A truly innate poison-immune constitution appeared only within the bloodline of Nanzhao’s Isolated Isle. A poison-immune constitution cultivated through artificial means, however, required enormous time and effort to develop.

And even with abundant time and resources, success was far from guaranteed—individuals with a constitution capable of being cultivated into poison immunity were exceedingly rare, appearing perhaps once in a century.

Jun Beiyue had been searching for such a person for a long time already, never expecting he would stumble upon Shiliang possessing exactly this constitution, entirely by chance.

“I’d like to seek the old man of the Poison Den’s guidance—how to cultivate poison immunity in the shortest time possible,” Jun Beiyue said, equally direct.

At these words, Luocha smiled. “Master Han, haste makes waste. You should count yourself fortunate to have found someone like her already. Heh.”

“I’ve heard there are medicines that can aid the process?” Jun Beiyue pressed further.

“How about this—come back in three years. My master will emerge from seclusion in three years’ time,” Luocha said seriously.

Three years!

What kind of joke was this? Shiliang was furious. Jun Beiyue, however, remained composed. “Whatever the Poison Den needs, if it’s within my power, I’ll be glad to help.”

Luocha pondered for a long while, then said, “How about this—leave three bowls of her blood with me, and I’ll give you my master’s medicine. It will only take three months to complete the cultivation. How does that sound?”

At these words, an icy chill shot straight down Shiliang’s spine, a cold wave surging up the back of her neck—three bowls of blood would take half her life force with it!

She instinctively glanced at Jun Beiyue, and seeing him hesitate, felt an inexplicable warmth spread through her heart, an indescribable feeling blooming in her chest.

Jun Beiyue truly had hesitated. After a long silence, he cupped his hands and bowed to Luocha, signaling his intent to take his leave.

Seeing this, Shiliang bit her lip and, steeling her resolve, simply slit her own wrist, saying to Luocha, “Go ahead. Three bowls, then—three bowls it is!”

Her life had once existed only for those beggar friends who had been as close as family to her.

Later, it had existed for Han Ziqing.

And now, one more person had been added—Jun Beiyue!

Luocha, treasuring this blood greatly, hurried personally to bring a bowl to collect it. But Jun Beiyue rushed to stop her. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Your Highness, it’s fine—just three bowls of blood, this servant can endure it. As long as Your Highness lets this servant stay by your side always,” Shiliang said, turning her body to block Jun Beiyue’s outstretched hand.

Jun Beiyue looked at her, his sword-like brows knitting tight, unable to intervene any further—by the time the wound on her wrist had been bleeding this whole time, two small bowls had already been filled.

Soon, the third bowl was filled as well.

Jun Beiyue quickly tore a strip from his sleeve to bandage Shiliang’s wound. Having lost so much blood at once, Shiliang could barely stand at all, yet still gritted her teeth and endured it—but before Jun Beiyue could even finish bandaging her, she collapsed weakly against him!

Jun Beiyue let her lean against him, carefully and thoroughly finishing the bandage. Luocha, watching this, smiled. “Heh heh, you two truly share a deep bond of master and servant. This vial of pills is the medicine for cultivating poison immunity—take one every three days, and remember, without fail, never skip a dose.”

Jun Beiyue accepted it, tucking it into Shiliang’s sleeve, murmuring quietly, “Do you remember this?”

Shiliang, utterly drained of strength, felt this quiet instruction from Jun Beiyue was so, so gentle!

“Mm, I remember,” she answered softly, her head resting against his broad shoulder, feeling that as long as this man was near, even if the whole world collapsed around her, she would never feel afraid or lost.

Since this had been an exchange, there was no need for thanks. Jun Beiyue paid Luocha no further mind, asking Shiliang quietly instead, “Can you still walk?”

“I can,” Shiliang said, moving to rise, but the moment she spoke, she collapsed weakly again.

Jun Beiyue let out a quiet sigh, then swept her up into his arms, carrying her toward the exit.

“Your Highness, why don’t you go on ahead? I’ll make my own way there.”

“No need.”

“Your Highness, my lady is alone and unsafe in the capital.”

Receiving no answer from Jun Beiyue, all Shiliang could see was his tall figure gradually vanishing into the darkness of the Poison Den…

And at that very moment, Ziqing was, indeed, far from safe.

She trudged forward, breathless and drenched in sweat, exhausted, yet still moving as quickly as she could, already nearly in sight of the valley’s rim.

At the top of the valley, everyone stood gathered, speaking only in hushed murmurs. The beastfolk clan leader sat cross-legged at the cliff’s edge, eyes closed in deep concentration. Though he fought desperately to hide his panic, his tightly furrowed brow betrayed everything regardless.

The Second Beast Young Master kept watching Situ Haonan, his face full of guilt, not daring to say a word. Situ Haonan paced restlessly back and forth, waiting for the poisonous fumes in the valley to disperse.

But just then, the sound of approaching hoofbeats suddenly rang out nearby—it was Yelu Qianqian’s own attendant, arriving at last.

Seeing this, everyone understood at once that whoever had gone to report the incident had made it into a much bigger affair—otherwise, how would the attendants left behind at the capital have learned of this at all?

“Princess! Princess, what’s happened to you?” The man hurried off his horse, and upon seeing Yelu Qianqian unconscious, an arrow wound near her heart, he immediately flew into a rage. “Beastfolk clan leader, how dare you conceal something this serious! I’m reporting this to the Prince of Nanzhao at once—Western Jing demands an explanation for this!” With that, he moved to report on Qianqian’s condition at once!

But just then, someone suddenly pointed down into the valley, shouting loudly, “Look, everyone! It’s the Princess Consort! The Princess Consort isn’t dead—she’s coming up!”