Chapter 123: The Scent of Home

She was grumbling under her breath, preparing to launch a “liberation movement” for all the spiritual plants in Penglai.

A peculiar scent, without warning, seeped into her nostrils along the earth’s meridians.

“Oh?”

Mu Qingli sniffed around. It wasn’t the fragrance of herbs, nor was it spiritual energy.

It was an intensely “delicious” aroma, one that made her tremble uncontrollably from the tips of her roots to the ends of her hair.

Warm and rich, it pulsed with the most primordial life force.

It was like a parched desert encountering its first drop of sweet rain, or a glutton, starved for eons, hearing the bell announce a feast.

Mu Qingli’s movements froze instantly.

Her emerald cat-like eyes widened abruptly.

‘This scent… there’s no mistaking it!’

It was her long-lost, human-shaped, self-propelled, top-grade spiritual soil—her feeder!

‘How could her feeder be here?!’

A sudden *buzz* echoed in Mu Qingli’s mind, and all thoughts of the Longevity Cauldron or millennia-old medicinal power were instantly cast to the winds.

Compared to her feeder, that wretched concoction wasn’t even worth a drop of saliva.

She immediately changed direction, burrowing frantically through the earth, following the scent like a cat drawn to fish.

Her speed was astonishing; her afterimage stretched into a green streak of light.

The scent grew increasingly potent.

Eventually, she stopped in a place where the cold was exceptionally heavy.

Mu Qingli cautiously poked her small head out from the dense roots of a “moon-gazing grass.”

Not far ahead stood a cave constructed entirely of cold jade. Three icy characters—‘Cold Moon Cave’—were carved into the plaque above its entrance.

Two Penglai female disciples, clad in silver-white uniforms, stood guard at the cave mouth like statues, their expressions solemn and their aura chilling.

Just then, the faint sound of footsteps approached.

Mu Qingli immediately retracted her head, leaving only her eyes to peer anxiously through the gaps in the grass.

A tall woman with a stern face, dressed in dark blue armor, slowly approached from the distance, escorting a person in moon-white alchemist robes.

The tall woman was none other than Han Shuang, the commander of Penglai’s Medicine Guards.

And the person beside her, whom she half-pushed and half-led…

Mu Qingli’s breath hitched.

Long black hair lay loosely over their shoulders, and on a delicate face, the peach blossom tear mole remained.

However, those eyes, which once silently watched her while she poured out leftover wine, were now dull, as if veiled by a thick layer of dust.

Not a single glimmer of light could be seen within them.

They walked slowly, mechanically, like a puppet whose soul had been extracted.

‘It’s her!

It really is her!’

Mu Qingli was so excited she nearly burst from the ground on the spot, ready to rush forward and hug the other’s leg to “loosen the soil” properly.

But she quickly sensed that something was amiss.

Her feeder’s condition was clearly not right.

Moreover… the woman escorting her exuded a cold aura that screamed, “I am the villain.”

Mu Qingli forcefully suppressed her surging emotions, restraining her aura to the extreme, merging perfectly with the surrounding vegetation.

Han Shuang stopped at the entrance of the Cold Moon Cave with Shen Zhaoqing. One of the guard disciples immediately stepped forward to salute. “Senior Sister Han Shuang.”

Han Shuang nodded expressionlessly, her gaze sweeping over the puppet-like Shen Zhaoqing, her voice devoid of warmth. “How is the main ingredient faring today?”

Liu Yan respectfully replied, “Reporting, Senior Sister, everything is stable. Senior Sister Bai’s restrictions are firm, and her divine consciousness remains sealed, showing no signs of awakening.”

“Good.” Han Shuang seemed pleased with the answer. “The time is nearly upon us. Take her to the Cleansing Pool for the final medicinal bath. The Holy Master’s grand ceremony must not fail.”

“Yes!”

‘Main ingredient?

Grand ceremony?

Medicinal bath?’

Though Mu Qingli was a plant, she had spent enough years mingling in the human world to understand such coded language.

‘These cursed alchemists… they want to refine my feeder… as a medicinal ingredient?!’

A towering, uncontrollable rage surged from the depths of Mu Qingli’s heart, rocketing straight to her crown!

Her twin ponytails bristled without a breeze, standing on end, and her emerald cat-like eyes instantly blazed crimson with fury!

‘This is outrageous!

Utterly preposterous!’

She had painstakingly nurtured and watered her feeder with leftover wine for so many years, watching them grow into a fertile, rich, peerless spiritual soil. She hadn’t even had a chance to “sample the taste” herself, yet these damned thieves wanted to snatch her entire “potted plant” and throw it into a furnace to refine into pills?!

‘How was this any different from desecrating her ancestral grave?!’

‘No!

This was even worse than desecrating her ancestral grave!’

The Jianmu clan had long lost their ancestral graves, but there was only one such human-shaped spiritual soil in the entire world!

‘Damn it, damn it, damn it!!!’

Mu Qingli trembled with anger, her teeth grinding audibly.

She had carefully protected and nurtured her, and it had only been a few years since they last met!

Just a few years!

The “Spiritual Transplant Shovel” on her back seemed to sense its owner’s fury, beginning to hum and emit a dangerous, cold gleam.

She nearly charged out with the shovel in hand, but the remnants of her rationality held her back.

‘No.

I can’t be impulsive.’

That woman named Han Shuang was at least in the Soul Transformation Realm, and her murderous aura indicated she was no benevolent figure. A head-on confrontation wouldn’t necessarily favor her.

If the commotion grew too large, it might alarm the old monsters of Penglai. Then, not only would she fail to retrieve the main ingredient, but she might also be captured and used as a “side dish,” thrown into the furnace alongside it.

Mu Qingli took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down.

She watched as Han Shuang escorted the distraught Shen Zhaoqing down another path, disappearing into the depths of the medicine garden.

The fury in her crimson eyes gradually receded, replaced by a colder, more dangerous calculation.

‘If I can’t beat them, can’t I steal from them?’

‘You want to refine pills? Fine.

I’d like to see your expressions when you’ve heated the furnace, added enough firewood, and then lift the lid only to find the “main ingredient” has vanished without a trace.’

Heh heh. Mu Qingli had a plan. She would resort to her old tricks.

She would infiltrate the so-called “Cleansing Pool” and, right under everyone’s noses, “transplant” her feeder away without a soul noticing!

Using her professional, indestructible, ancestral spiritual transplant shovel, she would dig her feeder out of this “barren” land, then stow them away in her “Cosmic Pinecone,” bringing them back to a scenic, spiritually rich auspicious place to “replant” them.

At that time, she would water her feeder with the finest spiritual spring water and apply the most premium “fertilizer”!

At this thought, Mu Qingli’s lips curled into an uncontrollable grin, revealing a smile of excitement and fanaticism.

She silently submerged herself back into the earth.

Her form blended perfectly with the soil, not a trace of her aura escaping.

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