That cold High Immortal looked as if he was missing someone.

Wu Xingxue watched for a moment, then withdrew his gaze.

A feeling suddenly arose in his heart, one that was hard to describe. He just suddenly lost all interest in asking further.

So when Ning Huaishan edged closer, he only saw his City Lord's expressionless face—when he wasn't smiling, the slightly downturned corners of his eyes always carried a hint of loathing.

At first glance, he looked truly unhappy.

'Wasn't he just smiling before? Why is he unhappy again!'

Ning Huaishan didn't want to court disaster, so he silently bounced back to Fang Chu's side.

Fang Chu: "Why are you bouncing back and forth?"

He was massaging his own shoulder. At the wound of his severed arm, a bit of new flesh had already grown, tinged pink with fresh blood. In contrast, his face was so pale it had a greenish tint.

"I just wanted to hear what whispers the City Lord was sharing with the puppet. Look, he's lost his memory and doesn't talk to us anymore. What's there to talk about with a puppet?" Ning Huaishan felt as if he had fallen out of favor, as if he'd forgotten that not long ago, he wanted their City Lord to cry and beg for help.

"Did he talk to us even when he hadn't lost his memory?" Fang Chu bluntly shot him down.

"That's true." Ning Huaishan glanced toward Wu Xingxue again and suddenly lowered his voice. "Ah Chu, I suddenly feel that puppet... mmm, seems a little off, don't you think?"

Fang Chu: "..."

Clutching his shoulder, Fang Chu said decisively, "I don't think so."

The last time they 'suddenly felt' something, the consequences were disastrous. Only a fool would want a repeat.

Fang Chu glanced at Xiao Fuxuan's profile and said in a low voice, "Do you know how long it usually takes for me to heal from this kind of injury?"

Ning Huaishan thought for a moment.

Fang Chu's most miserable state... that would have to be the day he first arrived in Zhaoye City decades ago. When Wu Xingxue had people carry Fang Chu out of that black carriage, Ning Huaishan almost didn't recognize him as a person—

because both his hands and one of his legs were gone, gnawed off by who knows what, and his face was covered in injuries. He looked like a bundle of blood-soaked rags.

A normal person would have died long ago, but Fang Chu seemed particularly stubborn and just wouldn't breathe his last.

Their Zhaoye City had no shortage of heretical paths and sinister forbidden arts. Bringing the dead to life and growing flesh on bare bones was not out of the question, as long as one was ruthless enough. Because flesh and bone couldn't grow out of thin air; something always had to be supplemented.

Later, Ning Huaishan would often recall that scene—

Wu Xingxue ordered people to throw Fang Chu into a pool to soak. The thick, black water in the pool splashed out, but where it landed on the snow by the poolside, it was red.

By that pool was a colossal, towering tree. Because the aura of death was too heavy, no living creature ever dared to rest on its branches and leaves. So Wu Xingxue's residence was named after the giant tree, called Quebuluo.

When those people... oh no, those little demons placed Fang Chu in the pool, Wu Xingxue was leaning against the giant tree with his arms crossed, watching silently.

"City Lord, he's in position. Everything is ready, we just need some living people." Those few had come to Quebuluo earlier than Ning Huaishan and had followed Wu Xingxue for several years, diligently attending to everything. They rubbed their hands, discussing excitedly, "The closest place to Zhaoye City is Bailu Ford. Catching a boatload or two of living people is no problem, we can go right now."

But Wu Xingxue looked weary, his voice carrying a sleepy nasal tone. "In the dead of night, few people pass through Bailu Ford. It'll probably be hard to catch any."

They nodded: "That's true. What should we do then?"

"Simple."

As Wu Xingxue spoke, he straightened up and walked to the edge of the Blood Pool. One palm strike for each, he tossed all those little demons into the pool.

Living people could be used for replenishment, and so could those little demons.

Fang Chu was unconscious in the pool, his eyes closed, oblivious to what was happening around him. But Ning Huaishan, watching from across the corridor, saw it clearly. A few bubbles broke the surface of the pool, and immediately after, the bloody gashes on Fang Chu's face visibly began to heal and close.

And Wu Xingxue just stood by the pool watching. After a long while, he went to a bamboo pump at the side to wash his hands.

That was the source of all of Ning Huaishan's fear of Wu Xingxue.

For a long time after that, he was terrified that Wu Xingxue, in a moment of displeasure, would throw him into the Blood Pool too, to be fed to someone as a restorative medicine. But he and Fang Chu were quite lucky. The people in Quebuluo changed often and didn't last long, but the two of them had followed Wu Xingxue for decades and were still alive.

Back then, Fang Chu, who had been like a bloody rag, was up and jumping around after soaking in the pool for two days.

Later, Fang Chu was often injured, frequently losing hands and feet. The people of Zhaoye City generally didn't provoke each other. When they were hungry or seriously injured and needed to supplement themselves, they would go outside to catch living people.

But Fang Chu was different. Having experienced the benefits of supplementing himself with Evil Demons back then, he later often targeted the people within Zhaoye City. It was only because he had the City Lord as his backer that he wasn't killed.

Later on, he perfected this Regeneration Art of his to a masterful degree. Even if he couldn't find anything to supplement himself with for a time, he could still heal quickly.

Ning Huaishan pondered for a moment and said, "That's right, losing arms and legs is commonplace for you. They usually grow back completely in several hours. How come this time..."

Fang Chu said, "I previously thought it was because I'd been starving for days and was a bit weak. Now that I think about it, that's probably not it. Look, as soon as we arrived in this Great Sorrow Valley, I started growing new flesh."

This regeneration method of his is, at its root, a demonic art, and some things naturally suppress it. For example... being too close to immortals, being suppressed by their unseen immortal aura.

Not the kind from Immortal Sect disciples, but the kind that comes from the Immortal Capital.

The reason it was so slow to grow before was because the surrounding immortal aura far outweighed the demonic aura. Now that we're in a demonic place like Great Sorrow Valley, it's finally gotten a bit better.

Ning Huaishan suddenly realized and glanced at the so-called puppet: "???"

Fang Chu: "So stop making trouble, I'm begging you. Just obediently follow the City Lord. I don't want to 'feel' anything right now, I just want to properly grow back my hand."

Ning Huaishan: "That's not right, shouldn't we tell the City Lord???"

Fang Chu looked utterly miserable. "Do you think the City Lord is dumber than me, or dumber than you?"

Ning Huaishan: "You mean, the City Lord has figured it out?"

...

'The City Lord damn well figured it out, and he's still sticking to the "puppet" and whispering secrets???'

After that, Ning Huaishan and Fang Chu fell silent. They didn't get close to Wu Xingxue, nor did they stray too far, as obedient as two quails.

So much so that the few Immortal Sect disciples couldn't see anything wrong with them at all, let alone imagine they were from Zhaoye City.

The young disciples couldn't figure out who the god statue was of for the life of them, so they didn't dwell on it. Taking out a golden needle, they began probing around the tomb. But for some reason, the golden needle spun around erratically like a headless fly.

With common folk seeking help and an unknown Rogue Cultivator master beside them, the young disciples were afraid of losing face, and their faces flushed red with anxiety.

"What's wrong with this spirit needle today?"

"It's never like this!"

"Senior Brother, is this needle broken?"

"Nonsense! I checked it before we left."

...

"What does this needle search for?" Wu Xingxue asked, picking the one with the reddest face.

The young disciple pointed to a drop of blood on the needle's tip and said, "It finds spirits. Whosever blood it's dipped in, it will find their spirit."

He glanced at the woman who had lost her daughters and said, "Pity the poor victim... After the characters appeared on her daughters' necks, she, like many others, tied her daughters to the bed with a hemp rope and sat by the bed at night to watch over them. She was afraid she would fall asleep and be unaware, so she even tied the other end of the rope to her own hand. But when she startled awake near dawn, she found the rope was still in her hand, but her two daughters were gone, and the rope was covered in blood. The blood on our needle was taken from that rope."

"If a long time has passed since they were harmed, the golden needle would indeed be less accurate, but it shouldn't be like this."

"Use it again and let me see." Wu Xingxue patted him.

The few common folk watched anxiously from behind him.

The young disciple looked embarrassed and let out an "oh." He first pointed the needle at himself as a starting point, then pushed it out.