Wild cultivation begins with wielding the Taiyin talisman.

The snowflake was light and fast, as if it were dancing in the wind.

But where did the wind come from?

The four-eyed rat demon didn't understand, and didn't have time to figure it out.

It had already expended too much energy to emit the four-colored halo and had no energy left to dodge.

The three rat demons in front, those three idiots, didn't even realize what was happening!

Its fur stood on end as it desperately channeled its magic, causing its four eyes to shine again and begin to spin. But the blade was closing in so quickly, giving it no time to regroup, not even for a moment.

Snow eventually covered its brow.

All colors were buried, and the light was extinguished before it could bloom.

It's dead.

Those unfulfilled ambitions lie dormant beneath the snow, falling straight down, their four eyes unable to close.

The waning moon is cold and clear, untouched by dust.

The man wielding the knife began to wither and decay.

As the four-eyed rat demon fell, the halo that had once taken Chen Mu's life was also imprinted on his right arm, where he held the knife.

A grayish-white color started at his fingertips and spread upwards at a visible speed. His muscles subsequently withered, stiffened, and became immobile.

He felt as if boiling water was being poured into his meridians, scalding every inch of his blood vessels. Immense pain coursed through his body, but he couldn't even blink.

The Crescent Moon Blade slipped from his hand, lost its luster, and fell into the pile of bones with a clanging sound.

Like the sound of the moon setting.

Then, the two rat demons pounced on them.

Ning Che could no longer feel the harm they had caused him.

All he knew was that he was falling backward, his head hitting a bone he couldn't identify. Then his vision blurred violently, the sky and earth shifted positions several times, and finally they dissolved into a hazy, chaotic void.

In his final moments, he heard the sound of wind, as if something was piercing his throat.

He couldn't even die in peace.

I don't have many vivid images in my mind, but I still feel a little regretful.

It's not that I regret not closing my eyes, but something else entirely.

He thought of Zhao Di, Xiao Hu, Uncle Shi Yong, and Zhao He and the others… Many people hadn’t yet received the future they deserved. He had only been here for a short time, yet he had already made promises in many places, but unfortunately, he couldn’t keep them.

What a pity, Chen Mu, I might have to come looking for you...

He stared at the chaotic scene before him, having lost consciousness.

But suddenly another voice was heard:

"Uncle, close your eyes."

A hand covered his eyes.

Lin Caiwei's hand.

The hand gradually came into view, pale, small, and cold. Five fingers just covered his eyes, and the palm was pressed against the bridge of his nose.

Ning Che closed his eyes as instructed.

The world is quiet.

Only the Daoist talisman evoked a strange sensation, trembling within the marrow sea.

Is this the law of the universe?

Ning Che understood that this was not a power he should be hoping for right now. Even if a sixth-rank expert like Mu Qingming wanted to scheme against him, Yu Congrong would consider it arrogant.

Lin Caiwei's hand left that spot.

"You can open your eyes now."

He opened his eyes.

Lin Caiwei squatted beside him, barefoot, her toes resting on a section of human femur. She was still wearing the same plain-colored dress; she seemed never to bathe or change clothes, yet she had no scent on her body.

He could only smell the miasma; it was quiet all around, and he was the only one coughing from the fumes.

He examined his condition; his right hand was completely withered and still numb. The rest of his body had recovered, probably thanks to the god before him.

It was a truly wondrous power; he couldn't comprehend how it was done at all.

He braced himself with his left hand, stood up, looked around, and found that the three eighth-rank rat demons were gone.

Lin Caiwei didn't look at Ning Che again. She lowered her head and began searching through the pile of bones. Her movements were unhurried, like a child picking up seashells on the beach.

Ning Che squeezed his right hand and felt that the texture was like the dried meat he ate when he was in a state of stagnation.

He asked, "What's wrong with me? Can you treat this?"

"It's dry, there's no moisture left, um—I don't know how to moisturize."

Without turning around, she spoke as she peeled back several layers of broken bone, reaching deeper into the bone as if she had found something.

A moment later, she pulled out a section of the root.

About the thickness of a finger, grayish-green in color, its surface covered with fine white down, shimmering faintly. The moment it was pulled out, the white bone surrounding the root turned to powder.

She handed this to Ning Che: "This is nourishing. If you eat it, you should feel better."

Ning Che took it, examined it for a moment, and asked, "What does 'replenishing people' mean?"

"Lin Xiuer often says that you are what you eat. This contains the essence of hundreds of people, so it will definitely be nourishing," Lin Caiwei explained methodically.

Ning Che remained silent for a moment, thinking of Chen Mu.

He once thought of himself as a warrior who would stop at nothing to survive, or for some nobler goal, he would even eat the corpses of his comrades.

But now, he can't help but think that perhaps there are other options.

Or perhaps this herb cannot provide nourishment.

He thought of many reasons, then shook his head, not uttering any of them aloud. He simply handed it to Lin Caiwei: "I can't swallow this. Would this do you any good?"

Lin Caiwei nodded.

"Then you eat it, I'm fine."

As he spoke, Ning Che picked up the Crescent Moon Blade with his left hand, his posture slightly awkward.

He roughly figured out the purpose of these rat demons.

They have driven their prey here more than once, killing them and using the corpses of cultivators and demons to nourish this great herb.

This herb must be incredibly precious; it could even greatly enhance the abilities of these four rank-eight rat demons.

Lin Caiwei took the piece of root, looked down at it, then put it in her mouth and took a bite. Grayish-green juice dripped down the corner of her mouth, which she then licked off with her tongue.

She frowned: "It's so bitter."

Ning Che turned his head away and spat out a mouthful of blood. The blood was dark in color and seeped into the pile of bones.

He tried twice with his left hand before finally managing to hang the Crescent Moon Blade back on his waist. Then, while laboriously untying the water bottle from his body, he watched as Lin Caiwei, with a furrowed brow and deep resentment, swallowed the root.

After Lin Caiwei swallowed the root, Ning Che handed her the water bottle.

She took two large gulps, and her expression finally eased a little.

Ning Che picked up the rat carcass, asked Lin Caiwei for help, wrapped it in a cloth, and slung it over himself along with the water bottle before walking outside.

Lin Caiwei stood beside him and reached out to help him, which he did not refuse.

On the way, the miasma would abruptly disappear as it approached them, or rather, as it approached Lin Caiwei. Gradually, perhaps as his senses returned, he felt that Lin Caiwei's hand seemed to have warmed up a bit.

A sliver of sunlight gradually emerges above the eastern mountains. And in the vast sky, the stars still gleam in the deep blue.

The crescent moon hangs like a hook.