Chapter 40: Seizing the Chance to Escape

The dungeon of the Wuji Sect was dark and damp, sealed off from the outside world. Shen Qianmo had spent an entire night here, quietly curling herself into a corner. The snake venom was growing fiercer, her body felt as if roasted in flames, while her mind was gnawed by countless ants—aching, itching, and unbearable. Her consciousness slowly slipped into confusion.

Her clothes were already soaked with sweat. She licked her parched lips, picked up the scalpel, and drew a deep gash across her left arm. Blood welled instantly from the wound. The sharp pain brought a fleeting clarity to her mind.

The thought of the demonic sect leader’s plans made her nauseous; she struggled to her feet, retching dryly. Suddenly, through the only small skylight in the dungeon wall, a white blur shot in. Before she could react, a fluffy, round object landed on her chest.

Looking closely, she saw it was the very same white fox she’d encountered once in the dense forest.

“Little one, what brings you here?” Shen Qianmo stroked the fox’s head, her voice gentle.

She’d always adored such darling little creatures.

The fox blinked its jade-green eyes, lifted its stubby legs, and squeaked at her. Its leg was tied with a small bamboo tube. Shen Qianmo untied it, and inside found a rolled-up note.

On it was written: The blood of the Jade-eyed Spirit Fox can alleviate the venom.

She recognized Old Duan’s handwriting. Smiling faintly, she tucked the note against her body. Seeing the fox lift its leg, as if offering itself for bloodletting, she laughed, gently petting its fur. “Such a good little thing. Why not call you Little Good from now on?”

The fox blinked, chirped excitedly, and hopped in her arms, seeming pleased with its new name.

Shen Qianmo was amused by its antics, but the next moment, the burning pain surged anew, like a volcano erupting—her breath grew rapid, and she leaned helplessly against the stone wall.

Seeing her agony, the fox again lifted its leg, squeaking anxiously.

If she took its blood, her pain would ease. But looking at the docile fox before her, scalpel clenched tight, she found herself unable to harm it.

Gritting her teeth, she raised the blade to slash her own arm again, when suddenly she heard a metallic clink—the dagger dropped to the ground.

“Humph, Old Duan treats you well, sending in the Jade-eyed Spirit Fox to ease your venom,” came the devilish voice of Yin Zhan from outside the dungeon.

She blinked, and Yin Zhan’s crimson figure appeared before her. He crouched, grabbing her left arm, eyes narrowing as he saw the bloody scars—a flicker of emotion crossed his gaze.

“Let go of me!” Shen Qianmo tried with all her strength to shake him off, but his grip was ironclad.

He turned her arm, his slender fingers pressing her wrist, an unexpected expression flashing across his face. He inspected the fox, confirming she hadn’t drawn its blood, then tossed the spirit fox aside. He lifted her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. “What are you carrying that suppresses the poison of the Biluohua?”

What was it with this demon and his obsession with lifting her chin! Shen Qianmo loathed the gesture. She steeled her emotions, staring at him coldly, silent.

But Yin Zhan noticed the red silk cord around her neck. His eyes flashed, and he yanked it free, revealing a small, lustrous blood jade. His expression darkened instantly.

“So Meng Yuanheng has already given you the Linglong Blood Jade. Looks like Wuhen and the others caught the right person.”

He stared at the jade, his teeth clenched. “Someone, clean this woman up and send her to my bedchamber.”

On the way to the bathhouse, Shen Qianmo gripped the blood jade at her chest, thinking to herself: No wonder at her grandfather’s birthday banquet, everyone was poisoned but she alone remained unharmed—it was the jade’s protection. Without it, the poison of the Biluohua would have acted much faster; she’d never have lasted this long.

The Linglong Blood Jade was so precious, yet Meng Yuanheng had given it to her. This thought brought a warmth to her heart.

But this Wuji Sect leader, Yin Zhan, seemed to know a lot about Meng Yuanheng. Had they met before?

She couldn’t untangle it for now. What mattered was that this was her best chance to escape.

She’d already realized Biluohua was actually an aphrodisiac. The spirit snake fed on it for decades, making its venom unimaginably potent. Though the blood jade suppressed its effects, if taken to Yin Zhan’s bedchamber, she might not withstand his provocations and lose herself to him.

She could not let that happen. She must hold out until Meng Yuanheng found her.

She hoped Yan Mo would learn of her plight soon and rescue her.

Two female Wuji disciples led Shen Qianmo to a bathhouse near Yin Zhan’s bedchamber, moving to help her undress. Shen Qianmo raised a hand to stop them, her voice icy, her aura commanding.

“Leave. I dislike attendants when I bathe.”

The two exchanged glances. Though she was a hostage, the sect leader seemed to value her, and tonight she’d be sent to his bedchamber—likely to be favored. Perhaps after tonight, she’d become his beloved. Best not to offend her.

They nodded and retreated, leaving Shen Qianmo alone, save for the fox nestled in her arms.

She surveyed the room: only a small window opened to the garden outside. She stroked the fox’s head. “Little Good, jump out the window soon and draw the guards away. Can you do it?”

The fox, clever and empathetic, understood immediately, nodding vigorously.

“Smart creature.” She praised, patting its head. The fox wagged its short tail, nuzzling closer.

“Go on.” She carefully checked the terrain outside, then whispered to Little Good.

The fox obeyed, leaping out the window.

The guards outside heard the commotion and rushed after it.

Shen Qianmo took a deep breath, forcing herself to regain some clarity, then nimbly slipped out the window.

Only one guard remained, the others likely chasing the spirit fox. Scalpel in hand, she crept behind him, and with practiced precision, stabbed his lower back at the vital acupoint. He crumpled silently, unable to cry out.

Forgive me, she thought, if not for dire circumstances, I’d not kill.

Under cover of night, Shen Qianmo sped along the garden paths, scanning the terrain as she fled.

Wuji Island was surrounded by sea; escape was impossible. She only needed to hold out until Yan Mo learned she was imprisoned and came to rescue her. As long as Yin Zhan’s vile plan failed, she would win.

Deep in the garden, she discovered a cave. The most dangerous place was often the safest—if Yin Zhan learned she’d escaped, he’d never guess she hadn’t fled far, but hidden right under his nose.

With that thought, she stooped and slipped inside.

The cave was small, barely fitting four or five people. She sat against the wall, closed her eyes, and steadied her breathing. Yet her recent sprint seemed to have triggered the venom; she grew hotter, the burning sensation fiercer than before.

She was drenched in sweat, her strength fading, her mind scattering. At that moment, she heard strange noises outside the cave.

“Who’s there!” she shouted, summoning the last shred of clarity.