Chapter 40: Departure, and the Wuliang Sword Sect!

In the end, it was just some playful teasing between the two.

Fang Han didn’t even open his mouth.

Well, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to—it was mainly because he had just taken a highly poisonous pill. If any residue remained in his mouth, that would be troublesome.

The two of them resumed testing poisons.

Nearly all the poisons—whether ingested or applied—had no effect on Fang Han. He didn’t feel any discomfort at all.

Cheng Lingsu observed him using sight, smell, questioning, and touch. With her medical skills, she could find no abnormalities whatsoever.

Only then did she fully confirm: Fang Han was truly immune to all poisons! (bǎi dú bù qīn, 百毒不侵)1

Thus, Fang Han turned his gaze toward the withered Seven-Heart Begonia, looking at it with a dangerous glint of excitement.

“Lingsu, do you still have any of the leaves or petals from that Seven-Heart Begonia? I want to try it.”

Cheng Lingsu hesitated—something rare for her. “By all logic, Brother Fang, you shouldn’t be affected by the Seven-Heart Begonia now. But… it’s among the most poisonous substances in the world. Even if you don’t suffer any real harm, I’m afraid it could still cause discomfort.”

Fang Han asked, “If something does go wrong, are you confident you can detoxify me?”

Cheng Lingsu still looked uncertain. “Yes… I believe I can. But still…”

This wasn’t on the same level as the other poisons they’d tested.

She was genuinely afraid something might happen.

But Fang Han seemed even more determined. It wasn’t that he was being reckless.

Rather, some things—if done—must be done thoroughly, once and for all.

That was, after all, the point of this life simulation: to make mistakes safely.

He couldn’t possibly wait until he returned to the real world to test it, right!?

Seeing his continued insistence, Cheng Lingsu had no choice but to fetch a preserved portion of the Seven-Heart Begonia’s flower petals.

Fang Han took them without a word—and swallowed them.

As soon as he did, a different sensation followed.

Unlike all the previous poisons that had elicited no reaction, this time…

A faint dizziness crept over him, and his body swayed slightly.

Seeing this, Cheng Lingsu’s expression changed drastically—she was just about to rush forward when Fang Han stopped her.

“Don’t panic. I’m fine.”

He quietly focused on the sensation brought by ingesting the Seven-Heart Begonia.

The dizziness and nausea seemed to intensify at first—but after a short while, it began to subside.

Fang Han stood there for quite a while, swaying gently—until finally, the sensations vanished completely.

He broke into a smile. “Looks like even the world’s deadliest poison only has limited effect on me now.”

Cheng Lingsu, however, pursed her lips, her face pale as she examined him carefully.

“Lingsu, don’t worry. I really am fine.”

Cheng Lingsu ignored him and only left after confirming there were absolutely no issues.

Fang Han let out a sigh, realizing she was a little angry now.

He didn’t follow immediately but went to the lakeside, fetched some water, and rinsed his mouth repeatedly, spitting the water into the soil.

He did this again and again—until even he felt it was overkill.

It wasn’t because of a cleanliness obsession—but because if there were any residual toxins in his mouth or on his skin, it could cause trouble.

Still uneasy, he returned to Cheng Lingsu to ask her for confirmation.

The young lady glared at him fiercely—but didn’t refuse. She checked him thoroughly and said, “There’s no problem. It’s not a corrosive poison. A rinse or two is enough.”

“Really no problem?”

“Mm.”

“Are you sure?”

Cheng Lingsu snorted, turned her head, and refused to speak to him.

She was still a bit angry—how could she just forgive him like that?

Fang Han didn’t mind. He stepped forward and gently embraced her, whispering, “As long as you’re sure I’m alright, then I’m relieved. I was just afraid I’d accidentally hurt you.”

Cheng Lingsu blushed and muttered to herself.

As if that was an accident!?

You really think I’d point that out!?

After a bit of sweet bickering, things settled down again.

It wasn’t even a real quarrel.

The couple was deeply in love.

They rested peacefully for a few days.

Once everything was packed—it was time to leave.

Cheng Lingsu looked at the cave entrance with some reluctance and sighed. “Brother Fang, after we leave… will we ever come back?”

Fang Han thought for a moment, then nodded gently. “We will.”

After all, here they had spent long and joyful days together.

It was a precious memory.

Once everything else was resolved, perhaps returning here to live in seclusion wouldn’t be a bad idea.

Hearing this, Cheng Lingsu smiled faintly.

…

…

The Wuliang Sword Sect was a well-known martial sect located in the Wuliang Mountains of Dali.

It originated over a hundred years ago and later split into three branches:

The Eastern, Western, and Northern branches.

For reasons unknown, the Northern branch left Wuliang Mountain. Today, only the Eastern and Western branches remain.

Within the sect, there was a rule: every five years, there would be a sword-fighting competition!

The winner would gain control of the Sword Lake Palace—a residence reserved for the sect master alone.

This control lasted five years. After that, another duel would determine who ruled Sword Lake Palace for the next five.

Today was one of those days—the five-yearly duel between the Eastern and Western branches.

These duels weren’t held in secret. Many martial figures from Dali were invited to witness the matches—not only as official observers but also to showcase the strength of the Wuliang Sword Sect.

At this moment, in the grand dueling hall—

Disciples from both sides were engaged in fierce combat, exchanging blows skillfully.

Perhaps due to one move being particularly clumsy or comical—

Suddenly, a laugh was heard from one corner of the hall.

Immediately, the expression of Left Zimu, sect master of the Eastern Branch, who had been smiling with satisfaction, turned grim. His eyes swept toward the source.

It turned out to be a young man in green robes.

He looked around eighteen, with delicate features and an air of refinement.

Other guests—both from the martial community and disciples of the sect—also turned to look.

Who had the audacity to laugh during the Wuliang Sword Sect’s competition!?

The youth seemed to realize he’d lost composure, quickly covering his mouth and falling silent.

Left Zimu gave a cold snort but didn’t say more—for now.

He planned to deal with it once the match ended.

Not long after—about fifteen minutes—his disciple, Gong Guangjie, won with a decisive strike.

Including the previous two wins, this marked three consecutive victories for the Eastern Branch.

Sect master of the Western Branch, Daoist nun Xin Shuangqing, looked visibly upset.

Left Zimu, on the other hand, could hardly contain his smugness.

He turned his gaze back to the youth who had laughed earlier.

With an aggressive tone, he asked, “May I ask—who might you be? From which sect or clan? Do you perhaps have any advice for my Wuliang Sword Sect?”

FOOTNOTES

1. 1. 1. 1. 百毒不侵 (bǎi dú bù qīn)– “Immune to a hundred poisons.” A classic phrase in wuxia literature, symbolizing a character who is impervious to all toxins. Typically achieved by taking rare elixirs or cultivating internal energy to a high degree. ↩ [https://s.w.org/images/core/emoji/15.0.3/svg/21a9.svg]