The Call of the Wild—Danger Lurks for Li Qingran
A Disciple’s Reverie
“What is Senior doing at this moment?”
Li Qingran rested her chin in her hands, gazing at the ceiling.
She could sense that her benefactor was busy—perhaps too occupied to check on her.
Her mind drifted to an image—
A majestic, white-haired immortal, sword in hand, battling an enormous monster.
A soft smile spread across her lips.
If only…
If only this powerful Senior were her master.
“No, Li Qingran, you’re asking for too much!”
She shook her head vigorously, scolding herself.
Today alone, Senior had given her twelve spirit crystals to maintain the advanced Spirit Gathering Array for six hours.
And—
He had forcefully raised her cultivation to the fifth level of Qi Refining.
Her injuries had healed, and the leakage of her spiritual energy had slowed.
Yet, her Dantian was still broken.
Like a cracked basin, no matter how much spiritual energy she accumulated, it would always leak away.
“I must find a way to fix my Dantian and spiritual roots,” she thought.
She couldn’t rely on Senior for everything.
If he chooses to help, that is his benevolence.
But she would never dare ask.
A Path Forward
Li Qingran had a plan.
Returning to Qingyun Sect? Impossible.
Her only option was to search for other sects.
Even small sects collected ancient texts.
Perhaps, if she searched diligently, she could find a method to restore her Dantian.
If not?
She would leave the cultivation world.
Find a peaceful place.
Perhaps return to the Southern Dynasty and take up arms again—this time, as a female general.
But revenge?
She had never entertained the thought.
Her former senior brothers had always been stronger.
Now, with her cultivation crippled, she didn’t stand a chance.
Call it cowardice if you will.
But this was the reality of the cultivation world.
The strong devoured the weak.
Before, she had nothing to live for.
Now?
She wanted to live.
To endure until the day Senior was free.
Even if it was just for a single meeting.
Just to say thank you.
A Deadly Trap
Meanwhile—
Deep in the shadows of Wanqing Mountain, Song Jiaojiao watched Li Qingran’s home with a frown.
“Didn’t Mu Baishuang say she was left to die in a thatched hut?”
Yet, before her stood a newly built stone house.
Someone had helped Li Qingran.
But who?
Perhaps—
The direct disciples of Chixiao Peak?
They might have hated Li Qingran…
But could there be one among them who still harbored sympathy?
If she killed Li Qingran, would she be offending them?
Song Jiaojiao hesitated.
But then, her mind flashed to the Foundation Establishment Pill.
She refused to let go of this chance.
She needed to test the waters first.
If someone was protecting Li Qingran, she had to know before she acted.
Reaching into her storage ring, she pulled out a half-foot-long red incense stick.
The “Mad Beast Incense.”
The Call of the Wild Beasts
The Mad Beast Incense was a deadly tool.
It emitted a scent undetectable to cultivators, yet intoxicating to wild monsters.
Once lit, it would lure beasts from all around.
Typically, it was used to bait prey while hunting.
But today?
It would be used to murder.
Originally, she planned to assassinate Li Qingran and dispose of the body in the mountains.
But now?
She wasn’t willing to risk a direct attack.
Instead—
She would let the beasts do the job for her.
Even if it alerted the sect, she could always deny involvement.
“Li Qingran, don’t blame me. The world has already abandoned you.”
With a flick of her finger, the red incense ignited and landed on a tree near the house.
Hidden in the shadows, she activated a concealment array to mask her own presence.
Then, she waited.
The beasts would come.
And Li Qingran—**asleep inside—**was utterly unaware.
Chen Huaian’s Final Push
Meanwhile—
At five in the morning, the horizon began to lighten.
Chen Huaian was near the peak of Mount Lu.
But his body was failing.
The higher he climbed, the colder it became.
Tourists halfway up had been sweating.
But near the summit, the wind had dried their sweat.
Now, they shivered.
Most stopped at mountain restaurants for hot porridge.
But Chen Huaian?
His entire body was drenched in sweat.
Each step was a battle.
Pain & Perseverance
All he had eaten were two pieces of bread.
He had been drinking water non-stop.
Still—
He moved forward.
His back was straight.
His eyes were steady.
His spirit was unbroken.
A true pilgrim.
“Brother, stop climbing!”
Zhang Rui was near tears.
He had witnessed every step.
He had watched a terminally ill cancer patient climb—step by agonizing step.
Never stopping.
Never complaining.
The two middle-aged men had fallen behind.
Even Su Xiaoqian was panting heavily.
Zhang Rui, usually physically fit, was being tortured—psychologically.
Each time Chen Huaian took a step, Zhang Rui felt like his heart was being stabbed.
And behind them?
A long line of tourists had formed.
Those who had given up on climbing had heard Chen Huaian’s story.
Now, they followed him.
Their footsteps stretched into a long dragon.
“Almost there.”
Chen Huaian looked up at the summit.
A smile tugged at his lips.
The Last 98 Steps
One hour ago—
A wealthy donor had promised him:
“Reach the summit before sunrise, and I’ll donate 66 ‘Drum and Gong’ gifts—worth nearly 100,000 yuan.”
Even without it—
Chen Huaian would have climbed anyway.
This wasn’t just about money.
He wanted to test his limits.
To see how much fire was still left in him.
But then—
With only 98 steps left—
A sharp pain stabbed through his right leg.
He lost his balance.
Fell to his knees.
“AH!”
Su Xiaoqian screamed.
Zhang Rui and the others rushed forward.
Chen Huaian looked down.
His right leg—
From ankle to knee—
Twisted.
He had fractured his leg.
