Now it was even better—she already thought Sima Jiao resembled a villain boss, and with her own identity as a demon cultivator added on, they seemed even more like members of the villain faction. They were practically a team of villains now.

Liao Tingyan tried to reason: “I think… although I’m a demon cultivator, I shouldn’t have done anything bad.”

High Monk: “No need to be nervous. I know. My eyes can see good and evil, so I know you’re not of the wicked demonic kind.”

Liao Tingyan exhaled in relief. How frightening—she thought the high monk had come to exterminate demons.

The high monk said: “Many years ago, I met Sima Jiao once at Three Saints Mountain. Though he was young then, he already displayed extraordinary intelligence and comprehension. I gave him the Dharma name ‘Cizang,’ hoping he would have compassion for all living beings and contain his killing intent.”

“I calculated his future. In the future I foresaw, he would become a terrifying figure of evil, stained with countless bloodshed, nearly toppling the entire cultivation world with his power alone. He would destroy Gengchen Immortal Manor and slaughter countless innocent mortals, turning fertile land into scorched earth, paradise into hell, causing suffering to all living beings, and committing unforgivable sins.”

Liao Tingyan thought: Confirmed, the high monk has come to vanquish evil.

The high monk changed his tone: “However, nothing in this world is absolute. Even a dead end can have a glimmer of hope. Within his blood-soaked, murderous future, I glimpsed a ray of hope. I prophesied that he would await a turning point—a person who could change him.”

Hearing this, Liao Tingyan had a premonition.

“So I left him a Buddhist bead to suppress his violent energy, help clear his mind, and cause him unbearable pain whenever he harbored killing intent.” The high monk calmly pointed to the red string with wooden beads tied around Sima Jiao’s left ankle.

Liao Tingyan had noticed these beads since the first time she saw Sima Jiao at Three Saints Mountain.

“People believe this wooden bead is merely a seal binding Sima Jiao, impossible to remove since the day it was put on, but it’s also a spiritual medicine.” The high monk’s clear eyes gazed at Liao Tingyan as if seeing through her soul. “If you can remove this ‘seal,’ this spiritual medicine can save him once. If you cannot remove it, it means Sima Jiao hasn’t found that glimmer of hope, and today will be the end of his life.”

The premonition came true.

This “destined person” theory was truly the standard configuration for transmigrators. Even though she was so unremarkable, it still fell on her head.

Forced into action, Liao Tingyan said: “…I’ll try then?”

The high monk nodded, letting her try, and even gave her an encouraging look.

Liao Tingyan: “…”

She went over to examine the red string wooden bead that didn’t even have a loose end, applied force with both hands and ended up breaking it directly.

Was it that easy? Was this high monk just playing with her?

“Does it have to be untied? Is breaking it okay?” She showed the high monk the string that had broken into two pieces.

The high monk suddenly became solemn, stood up, bowed to her, and said earnestly: “Indeed, it is so. Since you are Sima Jiao’s ray of hope, you are also the hope for the dawn of all living beings. In the future, I hope you will guide Sima Jiao toward goodness.”

Liao Tingyan: “This task—I don’t think I can do it well.”

The high monk praised her profusely with a smile, just like an unscrupulous boss forcing a difficult task on an employee while flattering them excessively.

She turned to look at the “arduous task” on the bed, considering whether it might be better not to save him after all.

“High Monk…” She turned back to ask what to do next, only to find the high monk had vanished.

Hmm?

She went outside to look but didn’t see anyone, only hearing a gradually fading ethereal voice saying: “This karmic connection has concluded. Please take care in the future.”

Finishing the deed and leaving—truly decisive. But why did she feel like he was afraid of getting into trouble?

Liao Tingyan returned to the cabin, thought for a moment, and directly stuffed the wooden bead in her hand into Sima Jiao’s mouth. Although it had been taken from his foot, who cared? She wasn’t the one eating it.

After feeding him the legendary spiritual medicine, Liao Tingyan finally felt somewhat relieved. Fortunately, the boss wouldn’t die; the spiritual medicine would save him. As for future matters, they could be dealt with later. The philosophy of the working class was to cross bridges when they came to them—dealing with problems only when they became urgent was perfectly reasonable.

She took a cushion for herself, sat down on it, and prepared to rest a while, keeping the severely injured patient company.

After Sima Jiao consumed the spiritual medicine, the bleeding stopped. Liao Tingyan also noticed that his bulging veins gradually flattened, and his wounds slowly healed. He had said before that his wounds were difficult to heal, which showed how truly effective this spiritual medicine was.

Liao Tingyan tried to check his internal condition, imagining she had X-ray vision or was a CT machine. At first, she couldn’t get the hang of it, but after some practice, she was able to see. She “saw” Sima Jiao’s internal organs and various blood vessels and meridians, all severely damaged, wriggling, and growing under the effect of spiritual medicine.

Liao Tingyan clicked her tongue in amazement. With such severe injuries, how had he managed to hold on until now? If not for the excessive bleeding, she would have thought there was nothing wrong with him. Who would have known his body was already so devastated internally?

Even the spiritual meridians that weren’t part of his physical flesh but had grown after his transcendence had been shattered by half. His body was almost entirely supported temporarily by those flames, truly a body on the verge of collapse, just one step away from a complete breakdown.

At this moment, Liao Tingyan felt a belated fear. She couldn’t help but stare at Sima Jiao with reverent eyes. Though he had a pretty face, he was truly a real man who could endure.

Whatever method the high monk had used, Sima Jiao remained motionless, completely unconscious. Liao Tingyan watched over him all afternoon, observing his internal and external wounds heal.

At first, she was a bit worried about pursuers, but later realized something wasn’t quite right—the environment maintained daylight without nightfall. She then understood they might be in another space, temporarily safe.

Even the big black snake had awakened and crawled over to check on them, but Sima Jiao still hadn’t woken up. Liao Tingyan looked at his blood-stained appearance and couldn’t stand it anymore. She began to use her new ability, washing away the filth on his body with a film of water. While using a ball of water to wrap around Sima Jiao’s hair for automatic cleaning, Liao Tingyan sat with her legs crossed nearby, multitasking. She thought that if she could take this skill back to her world, automatic hair washing would be incredibly convenient.

After washing Sima Jiao’s entire body, since she didn’t have men’s clothes here, she covered him with a dress. She also levitated him to change the straw on the wooden bed and prepared a proper mattress.

Having done so much today, she was tired and figured it was time to wash up and sleep. Perhaps tomorrow morning when she woke up, this ancestor would be full of vitality, continuing his pretentious ways, and she could continue being lazy—perfect.

Just then, a sudden change occurred. Flames surged from Sima Jiao’s body, gathering into a flower-like shape, hovering above him.

The flame opened its mouth to speak, still with that childish voice, shouting at Liao Tingyan: “What are you standing there for? This guy is about to die!”

Liao Tingyan thought: What the hell???

The flame loudly babbled: “This guy’s spiritual palace is a complete mess! Earlier, he was ready to perish with others and nearly burned up his soul. Now, although his body is recovering, his consciousness is almost dispersed!”

Liao Tingyan felt like an innocent doctor—not trained in neurology yet forcibly pulled in to treat a head injury—completely dumbfounded.

She spoke honestly: “I’m an amateur. I don’t understand what you mean. What happens if consciousness disperses?”

Flame: “He’ll die! Such a simple question and you still need to ask!”

So the high monk’s spiritual medicine could save the body but not the soul. Liao Tingyan withdrew into herself, sitting in the chair and pressing her forehead.

The flame roared at her: “Hurry up and think of something!”

Liao Tingyan had a headache: “What can I do? I’m not a doctor!” And this flame, which had always shouted about wanting to kill “that bastard Sima Jiao,” was now suddenly anxious.

The flame shouted: “Just enter his spiritual palace and piece his soul back together!”

It sounded like a simple task. But Liao Tingyan didn’t quite trust this troublemaker.

Her suspicious gaze angered the flame, which snarled: “You think I want to save him? I haven’t figured out how to separate from him yet. If he dies now, won’t I die too? So hurry up and save him!”

Although Liao Tingyan was self-taught, she knew the basics. The spiritual palace was a person’s most private place, where one’s divine sense, divine thoughts, and divine soul resided. Others generally couldn’t enter it. Those with high cultivation could directly invade those with lower cultivation and weaker souls. If such an invasion carried malicious intent, it could at best damage the soul and turn someone into an idiot, and at worst cause the soul to disperse completely.

For someone far superior in cultivation level, if they hadn’t opened their spiritual palace, it was impossible to enter. Liao Tingyan didn’t believe she could break into the ancestor’s spiritual palace.

“Just try! Doesn’t he like you a lot? Maybe you can get in!” The flame continued shouting.

Liao Tingyan: “What makes you think he likes me?” She was puzzled. Did this ancestor seem like someone who would like others? This flame must be blind… oh, it had no eyes.

The flame twisted. “I just know it!”

“Stop wasting time! Hurry up!” The flame screamed, its baby-like voice full of anxiety and fear. Its flame appeared to be getting smaller and smaller as if about to be extinguished.

“Damn it all,” Liao Tingyan cursed, resigned to her fate. She dragged her chair to the bedside, placed her forehead against Sima Jiao’s, and tried to enter his spiritual palace.

She was on edge, extremely cautious, afraid she might be eliminated before even reaching the entrance to the spiritual palace. Like a thief, she slowly approached with her soul.

The spiritual palace was like the doorway to a person’s consciousness, different for each individual. For those with strong defenses and aggressive tendencies, the spiritual palace was also extremely dangerous—like Sima Jiao’s. Those thick barriers emanated a dangerous aura. Liao Tingyan closed her eyes, beads of sweat rolling down her forehead and falling onto Sima Jiao’s cheek.

In the spiritual palace space, Liao Tingyan tentatively touched Sima Jiao’s spiritual palace barrier with a small tendril of her consciousness. She touched it once and quickly withdrew, but there was no reaction for a long time.

Could it be that his soul was too severely injured to have any offensive capability?

She grew bolder, moved closer, and clung to the spiritual palace barrier, trying to find if there were any gaps… and then she fell right in.

It was so simple that she doubted the warning she had heard before about “entering another’s spiritual palace being extremely dangerous” was true.

Ever since Liao Tingyan had skipped levels to become a Golden Core Transformation stage cultivator, she could see her own spiritual palace. Her spiritual palace was calm and leisurely, with wind and fragrant flowers, like a vacation beach, so soothing it made one want to sleep. That’s why every time she slept, she sank her consciousness into her spiritual palace, improving her sleep quality.

But Sima Jiao’s spiritual palace was a dark, somber night. The only light came from flames burning on the ground. The scarred earth and rampaging flames emitted a suffocating bloody smell, giving one a feeling of boundless oppression and suffocation. In his spiritual palace, a large cluster of consciousness representing his soul was peeling off layer by layer, like a withering flower.

Seeing this, Liao Tingyan floated toward it.