Chapter 103 · Volume 1

The Southern Foothills Camphor Forest

At this point, of the five external sect missions she had accepted before descending the mountain, only three exploration missions remained incomplete.
Over the next half-month or so, Ye Ling traveled to various areas of Heishui Commandery, completing two exploration missions in succession.
The first was at Luoxing Mountain, where she had to survey the terrain and record the distribution of demon beasts.
Fortunately, the terrain of Luoxing Mountain was gentle, and the demon beasts there had low cultivation bases, posing no real danger.
Ye Ling only spent a few days to complete a detailed survey and record, successfully finishing the task.
The second was at Duanya Cave, where she had to clear out the fierce beasts inside the caves and bring back physical specimens.
The cave had many forks, hidden chambers, and heavy malevolent aura. There were also quite a few fierce beasts, making the clearing process time-consuming and laborious.
It took Ye Ling more than half a month to thoroughly purge the cave, gather all the specimens, and complete the mission.
With these two completed, only the final one of the five external missions remained—the exploration mission of the Camphor Forest in the southern foothills of Heishui Commandery.
Recently, the area surrounding the Camphor Forest had been perpetually shrouded in a bizarre mist and miasma.
Nearby villagers who passed through the area and accidentally inhaled it fell ill with a strange disease, leaving them bedridden.
The disease had no cure and no known cause. Many commoners had already lost their lives to it, spreading panic through the neighboring villages.
Strangest of all, the miasma had appeared out of thin air a year ago, with no traceable source.
Upon noticing the anomaly, the Qinglan Sword Sect had sent disciples to investigate multiple times, but everyone had returned empty-handed, unable to discover the cause of the miasma.
Faced with this thorny mission that no one could solve, Ye Ling did not hesitate. Once she finished resting, she set off, heading straight for the Camphor Forest.
Near the Camphor Forest lay a village called Xiaoyan Village. Ye Ling planned to investigate there to see if she could find any key information.
Just as she stepped into the village entrance, Ye Ling sensed that something was wrong.
At this hour, when children should have been playing in groups, the streets and alleys were completely empty, devoid of any laughter.
Only a few adults were working silently in the fields, their expressions numb, as if an unresolvable sorrow weighed heavily on their brows.
The entire village was deathly quiet, as if its vitality had been sucked away by something.
Ye Ling stood at the entrance for a moment before stepping inside.
The passing villagers glanced up at her and then lowered their heads again. No one spoke to her or asked any questions, as if they had long since lost all hope in outsiders.
On the entire street, only a single thin, small figure poked her head out of a farmhouse window.
It was a young girl wearing a large, old cloth robe. It was clearly a piece of clothing passed down from an older child in the family, washed until it was faded and hanging loosely on her body.
She was barefoot, stepping onto the cool, muddy ground. She ran timidly up to Ye Ling and looked up, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Sister, are you a martial artist?”
“Can you help me save my father and mother?”
Before she could even finish her sentence, her tears began to fall.
A passing white-haired old man saw this, sighed, and stepped forward to pull her back.
“Sanmei, don't ask anymore. It's useless.”
Shaking his head, his voice was raspy. “We don't even know where this miasma is coming from. Many people in the village have already died.”
“Even quite a few martial artists couldn't handle it. They fell ill after inhaling the miasma just the same, and several have already passed away.”
The old man paused, a look of pain flashing in his eyes as he explained to Ye Ling.
“My son met the same fate. I sent him to the commandery city and found many doctors, but none of them could save him.”
“This thing is incurable.”
After saying that, he waved his hand and walked away with a hunched back.
Ye Ling looked down at the little girl and asked softly.
“Is Sanmei your name?”
Sanmei nodded blankly.
Ye Ling squatted down, her tone gentle.
“I am a disciple of the Qinglan Sword Sect, and I have come to investigate the miasma in the Camphor Forest.”
“Sanmei, take me to see your parents. Although I might not be able to save them, I will do my best.”
Sanmei's eyes lit up instantly, and she nodded vigorously.
She reached out to grab Ye Ling, but looking down at her dirty fingers, she timidly pulled her hand back.
Ye Ling said nothing, simply extending her own hand.
Sanmei froze for a moment, then quickly grasped it and pulled her toward her home.
The white-haired old man walked a short distance, then looked back, his heart filled with a complex mix of emotions.
He had also practiced martial arts in his youth, and although he only reached the Houtian Third Layer and later suffered a decline in his cultivation due to failing blood and vital energy, he still knew that the Qinglan Sword Sect was the foremost of the four major sects in the Qingyun Kingdom.
However, disciples from major sects had come before, yet they were equally helpless, and some had even lost their lives.
He did not dare to harbor too much hope, but watching Sanmei pull Ye Ling away in the distance, a faint glimmer of anticipation still rose in his heart.
Sanmei's home was an extremely ordinary farmhouse courtyard with mottled earthen walls and simple furniture.
Sanmei lifted the cloth curtain, revealing two wooden plank beds placed side by side inside, with a middle-aged man and woman lying upon them.
Their skin was black and blue, their lips were dry and cracked, and their eyes were tightly shut.
Their breathing was so weak it was almost imperceptible; they were clearly deeply poisoned.
Standing guard by the bedside were two teenagers, Sanmei's older brother and sister.
Both had dark circles under their eyes and weary faces, looking as though they had been keeping watch day and night with barely any sleep.
The two turned their heads upon hearing the noise and saw their little sister pulling along a youth in a green robe.
Her aura was clearly not that of an ordinary person, leaving both of them momentarily stunned.
Sanmei's brother spoke first. “Sanmei, who is this?”
Before Sanmei could answer, Ye Ling directly stated her purpose.
“I am a disciple of the Qinglan Sword Sect, and I have accepted the mission to investigate the miasma in the Camphor Forest.”
“I just met Sanmei in the village, and upon hearing that your parents fell ill, I came to see if I could be of any assistance.”
Hearing this, the two youths trembled, a sudden light appearing in their dim eyes.
They quickly made way, repeatedly inviting Ye Ling to step forward.
Ye Ling walked to the bedside, first silently circulating her true essence to cover her body with a thin barrier of spiritual energy, blocking out the residual miasma in the room.
Then she bent down, placed her hands on the wrists of the couple to take their pulses, and sent her Divine Sense inside to examine them closely.
After a moment, her brow furrowed slightly.
The couple's meridians were congested, and their internal organs were severely eroded by the miasma poison. Their pulses were weak and intermittent; their life force was on the verge of extinguishing.
If this dragged on any longer, they would indeed be beyond saving.
She was not a medical cultivator, and she knew little about treating ordinary illnesses.
Normally, she would have no way to deal with this kind of bone-deep miasma poison.
However, before descending the mountain, the Peak Master of Spirit Medicine Peak had given her many pills. Among them was a Miasma-Clearing Qi-Dispersing Pill, specifically formulated to neutralize all kinds of insidious miasma. Its medicinal effects were powerful and highly targeted.
The issue was that this pill was of the Xiantian Realm grade, and its medicinal power was too potent. A mortal's physical body was frail; if swallowed directly, they would not be able to withstand it, which would instead lead to disaster.
Ye Ling pondered for a moment, then took out a translucent white pill from her storage bag and said to Sanmei,
“Go and fetch two bowls of clean water.”
Sanmei quickly ran out and soon returned carrying two coarse porcelain bowls filled with well water.
Condensing a wisp of spiritual energy at her fingertip, Ye Ling carefully scraped a tiny amount of medicinal essence from the pill and divided it into the two bowls of water.
The moment the medicinal essence entered the water, the originally clear well water rippled with a warm white light.
A refreshing medicinal fragrance diffused outward, significantly dispelling the stale air that had been trapped in the room for months.
“Have your parents drink these two bowls of medicinal water.”
She handed the bowls to the two youths.
The youths took the bowls, their hands trembling slightly as they brought them to their parents' lips, calling out softly.
The comatose couple seemed to retain a sliver of consciousness. Sensing the medicinal power, they opened their mouths slightly and slowly swallowed the water.

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