Elder Zi and Elder Wei stood beside Ning Zu, their expressions solemn as they exchanged words in hushed tones. The room was dimly lit, with a faint flicker of light from a single lantern casting long shadows across the stone walls.
Elder Wei held a small Gu worm in his hand, carefully handing it to Elder Zi. "This is the last one," Elder Wei said, his voice carrying a tone of finality. "It's the last Gu we can safely remove from Zi Rui's aperture without causing any harm."
Elder Zi nodded, taking the Gu from Elder Wei's hand with a steady grip. His eyes lingered on Ning Zu for a moment before shifting back to his companion. "Have you discovered what his vital Gu's ability is?" Elder Zi asked, his voice low but curious.
Elder Wei turned his gaze to Ning Zu, his brow furrowed in thought. "I'm not entirely sure," he admitted. "But I believe it's more than just a vital Gu. There's something… unusual about it."
———
In Ning Zu's dream
Ning Zu woke up slowly, his senses returning one by one. His body felt heavy, as though weighed down by something unseen. His eyes flickered open, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings—a large, dimly lit room with high, arched ceilings. The air was thick with the smell of incense and something else, something sweet and intoxicating. He blinked a few times, trying to make sense of where he was, his memory of the recent events fuzzy at first.
It didn't take long for the memories to rush back—the fight with Ming You, the devastating blows they exchanged, the molten steel, and the earth-shaking dragon he had summoned.
The battle had been brutal, and the last thing he remembered was the overwhelming pain, his body burned and broken. Now, however, he felt no pain, no lingering wounds. His body was fully healed, as if the fight had never happened at all. He tried to sit up, but his body wouldn't move.
He looked down and saw thin, pink strings wrapped around his limbs and torso, binding him tightly to the bed. The strings seemed to glow faintly in the dim light, pulsing with a strange, almost hypnotic energy.
Instinctively, Ning Zu reached into his aperture to activate his Gu, to free himself from these bindings, but even inside his aperture, the strings were there, wrapping around his core, preventing him from activating any of his Gu worms.
Frustration surged through him as he struggled against the restraints, but it was futile. The strings were too strong, and no matter how much strength he tried to muster, they wouldn't budge.
His mind raced as he tried to assess the situation. He was healed, his body in perfect condition, yet he was a prisoner. The fact that the pink strings had invaded his aperture meant that whoever had done this was no ordinary person. Whoever had bound him had an intimate knowledge of Gu, perhaps even an Immortal Gu Master.
Ning Zu turned his head to the right, hoping to find some clue as to where he was. His eyes landed on a familiar figure lying in the bed next to him—Ming You. The man was unconscious, his wounds stitched up and nearly fully healed, much like Ning Zu's.
Ning Zu's blood boiled at the sight of his opponent, the one he had fought so fiercely. His fists clenched as rage filled him, and for a moment, he wanted nothing more than to leap from the bed and finish what they had started.
But then, something unexpected happened. As his fury surged, so did the pink strings, tightening around his throat, cutting off his breath. He tried to scream, but the strings silenced him. Panic flared in his chest, but before he could struggle further, a voice—soft and sweet—cut through the tension in the room.
"You're truly something else," the voice said, smooth and velvety, with a hint of amusement.
Ning Zu's eyes darted toward the source of the voice, and what he saw made his heart skip a beat. A woman sat in a chair across the room, her legs elegantly crossed, a long pipe held delicately between her fingers.
Smoke curled lazily from the pipe, filling the air with the sweet scent of opium. She was stunningly beautiful, her figure thick and curvaceous, every movement exuding a graceful confidence. Her long black hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, contrasting sharply with her flawless, porcelain-like skin. But it was her eyes that caught Ning Zu's attention the most—bright pink, gleaming with an otherworldly charm that seemed to pierce straight through him.
For the first time in what felt like years, Ning Zu felt something stir inside him, something primal. His unpolished whip stood tall, the stirrings of desire making it rise like a spear, as if wanting to pierce the heavens themselves.
Embarrassment flooded him, but he couldn't help it—her presence was intoxicating, and the fact that he was helpless only heightened the effect.
Ming You stirred beside him, his eyelids fluttering open. He groaned softly, his body still recovering from the battle. When his eyes landed on Ning Zu, a flicker of recognition and excitement crossed his face.
For a moment, it seemed as though Ming You was ready to pick up where they had left off, to continue their deadly battle. But his eyes soon fell on the scene before him—Ning Zu, lying helpless on the bed, bound by pink strings, pointing his spear at the woman who sat watching them.
Confusion spread across Ming You's face, and for the first and last time in history, he didn't think of killing his enemy, not out of mercy, but out of confusion. He had no idea what was going on, and the absurdity of the situation left him speechless. He didn't know how to respond to the bizarre display before him.
The woman's amused smile faltered for a moment as she noticed Ning Zu's disrespectful reaction. Without a word, she lifted her hand, her fingers moving gracefully through the air. Instantly, the pink strings responded to her command, and a large hand descended from the ceiling, made entirely of the same pink energy.
It came down hard on Ning Zu's head, striking him with enough force to knock him out cold.
Ming You, still bound by the strings, watched in stunned silence. He blinked several times, trying to comprehend what had just happened. The woman's expression darkened, clearly irritated, but she took a long drag from her pipe, the smoke calming her nerves as she exhaled slowly.
After a moment, she turned her gaze toward Ming You, who had now composed himself, his confusion giving way to wariness. His killing intent had returned, though not as intense as before. The woman raised an eyebrow, seemingly unbothered by the dark aura that surrounded him. In fact, it only seemed to amuse her further.
"You," she said, her voice sharp, though tinged with annoyance. "Why are you both so weird?"
Ming You's brows furrowed in confusion. He had no idea what she was talking about. He was still trying to make sense of everything—the fight, waking up in this strange place, and now this woman controlling them with pink strings.
The woman, still fuming with anger, stood up and tossed her pipe at Ming You's head. He flinched, but the pipe bounced harmlessly off his shoulder. She paced back and forth, muttering under her breath, her irritation palpable.
Ming You remained silent for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and gravelly. "Who are you?"
The woman stopped in her tracks, her irritation fading slightly as she regarded him with a cool gaze. "Meng Yan," she said, her tone carrying an air of authority. "I'm the one who saved both of your lives."
Ming You frowned, the mention of her saving them only adding to his confusion. "What do you want from us?" he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.
Meng Yan smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "First, you both need to heal," she replied. "Then we can discuss what comes next."
Ming You's eyes narrowed. He wasn't one to trust easily, especially not someone who could wield such power over him and Ning Zu. "Why did you save us?" he asked, his voice filled with doubt.
Meng Yan's smile widened, but there was a dangerous edge to it now. "You're rude," she said, her tone laced with amusement. "You haven't even told me your name yet."
Ming You clicked his tongue in annoyance, but he knew he had no choice but to play along. "Ming You," he said tersely, nodding toward the unconscious Ning Zu. "And that's Ning Zu."
Meng Yan nodded slowly, using a string to bring her pipe back to her, her pink eyes glinting with a knowing look. "Fitting names for a future venerable and his guardian," she mused aloud, taking another long drag from her pipe.
Ming You's mind raced, trying to decipher her cryptic words. Future venerable? Guardian? What was she talking about? He didn't like the sound of it, but before he could press her further, Meng Yan turned on her heel and made her way to the door.
"We'll talk later," she said, her voice drifting back to him as she disappeared through the doorway, leaving Ming You alone with his thoughts—and a still unconscious Ning Zu, bound by the mysterious pink strings.
As the door clicked shut behind her, Ming You stared up at the ceiling, his mind spinning with questions. Who was this woman? What was her connection to them? And what did she mean by "future venerable"?
For now, all he could do was wait. The pink strings that bound him were too strong to break, and without his primeval essence, he was powerless. All he could do was recover and prepare for whatever came next, knowing that this mysterious woman held all the answers—and perhaps, his fate.