Chapter 13: Frenzied Beast Incense

“What’s senior doing right now?”

Li Qingran propped her cheeks on her hands, gazing at the ceiling. She had a feeling that Chen Huai’an was too busy to pay attention to her at the moment.

“Someone as extraordinary as Senior must be fighting for the cultivators of the entire Cangyun Realm. Maybe he’s out slaying some great demonic beast…”

Her imagination took off, conjuring the image of a silver-haired elder with an immortal aura, riding his flying sword as he gracefully cut down a demon. The thought brought a silly smile to her face.

If only…

If only Senior were her master, how amazing would that be?

“No, Li Qingran, don’t overstep!”

She gave herself a light slap on the head as a reminder.

Thanks to her meridians and internal injuries gradually healing, the leakage of Spiritual Qi from her dantian had slowed considerably.

But ultimately, her dantian was broken—a basin with a hole, unable to hold Qi for long.

“I have to figure out a way to fix my dantian and spiritual root,” Li Qingran mused. She couldn’t rely on Senior for everything.

If Senior was willing to help, it was out of his generosity, but she couldn’t take the initiative to ask.

She already had a plan in mind. The Qingyun Sect was unreliable. She needed to seek out another sect, even a smaller one. These smaller sects often had rare ancient texts. If she was lucky, she might find a way to repair her dantian and spiritual root.

If all else failed, she could leave the world of cultivation altogether, retreat to a serene place, and slowly gather intelligence about her enemies. Or perhaps she could return to the Southern Dynasty and serve as a general.

As for seeking revenge against her senior brothers…

Li Qingran hadn’t even considered it. She hadn’t been their match before, and her chances were even slimmer now.

It was cowardly and humiliating, but survival in the cultivation world was harsh by nature.

She had already lost the will to live before. Now, she just wanted to stay alive a little longer—to live until Senior was no longer busy and might see her again. Even if it was just to hear him say one word to her.

She really wanted to thank him in person.

“Something’s wrong! Wasn’t Li Qingran thrown into a thatched hut?”

Song Jiaojiao stood at the foot of the mountain, frowning at the stone house.

Her cultivator’s eyesight was excellent, and it was clear that the stone dwelling was newly built. This meant someone had been helping Li Qingran.

But who?

Could it be one of the personal disciples from Chixiao Peak?

It wasn’t impossible…

Although Mu Baishuang had claimed those disciples hated Li Qingran to the core, perhaps they still had lingering affection and had decided to help her out?

If that were the case, killing Li Qingran would put her at odds with them.

But she couldn’t give up the Foundation Establishment Pill.

After weighing her options, Song Jiaojiao decided to test the waters first—to see if those personal disciples had left any protective measures around Li Qingran’s residence.

She retrieved a half-meter-long red incense stick from her storage ring.

This was the “Frenzied Beast Incense.” Its aroma had a wide spread and was nearly undetectable to cultivators but could attract beasts with a keen sense of smell. Normally, it was used during beast hunts, but in certain circumstances, it was also a deadly weapon.

Her original plan was to storm the hut, kill Li Qingran, and feed her corpse to the beasts in the mountains. But now, the plan had to change. She couldn’t risk approaching, so she would use the incense to incite beasts to do the job. Even though a beast rampage might attract the sect’s attention, it was worth the risk.

“Li Qingran, when a wall collapses, everyone gives it a push. Don’t blame me for this.”

Song Jiaojiao lit the red incense and flicked her fingers.

The incense flew through the air and lodged in a tree near the stone house.

After setting up a formation to conceal her aura, she retreated to a safe distance. When the beasts arrived, some were bound to be ferocious. The formation was her safety net.

All she had to do now was wait and watch.

The beasts would need time to pick up the scent and gather.

Inside the stone house, the sleeping girl was completely unaware of the approaching danger.

At five in the morning, the horizon began to brighten faintly.

Chen Huai’an was close to the summit.

But he was in a terrible state. The wind was strong and the temperature low near the peak. Many tourists, sweating heavily at the halfway point, found themselves shivering as they neared the summit. They either quickened their pace to warm up or stopped by a mountainside restaurant for some hot porridge.

Chen Huai’an, however, was different.

His face was pale, his entire body soaked in sweat. Every step was shaky, and sweat dripped from the hem of his soaked shirt.

This was pain.

He had only eaten two pieces of bread along the way, drinking water constantly to sustain himself.

Though his pace was unsteady, his steps were resolute. His back was straight, his gaze calm, fixed firmly ahead. The light in his eyes made him look like a pilgrim.

“Dude, let me carry you! Don’t climb anymore!” Zhang Rui’s voice cracked as he held back tears. Tonight’s events would stay with him for life. He had watched, step by agonizing step, as a man with legs riddled with osteosarcoma endured excruciating pain to climb the endless stone stairs.

Even the two middle-aged men and the punk girl, Su Xiaoqian, were gasping for breath.

Zhang Rui, who worked out regularly, had the stamina, but the mental pressure weighed heavily on him. Every time he saw sweat dripping from Chen Huai’an’s soaked shirt, it was like a blow to his heart.

Chen Huai’an had never once complained.

He had faced their hostility with tolerance and peace.

Behind Chen Huai’an, it wasn’t just the four livestream followers. A growing number of tourists, initially planning to turn back, had joined after hearing his story. The group swelled into a massive procession, a winding dragon on the stone steps.

“Almost there.” Chen Huai’an looked up at the summit and smiled.

He had to make it.

An hour earlier, a viewer with a Level 57 account had promised to send 66 “Drum and Gong City” gifts—each worth 2,888 yuan—if he reached the summit by sunrise. After platform cuts, it would net him 95,000 yuan. With additional donations from tourists, tonight’s earnings could reach 120,000 yuan.

Of course, there was always the chance the viewer was bluffing.

But Chen Huai’an didn’t care.

He would have climbed regardless of gifts.

It wasn’t just about money.

He wanted to push his limits in the time he had left—to see how much light he could still bring to the world.

But just 98 steps from the summit, a sudden, intense pain shot through his right leg.

His balance faltered, and he fell to his knees on the stone steps.

Su Xiaoqian instinctively looked at his leg, her face paling as she clamped her hands over her mouth.

“Ah! His leg… his leg!”

Gritting his teeth, Chen Huai’an looked down.

His right leg, from the ankle to the knee, was grotesquely twisted out of shape.

He had fractured it.

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