After leaving the territory of Qixia Mountain, Bai Heng continued southeast.
Heeding Mu Xuejun’s warning, she deliberately adjusted her route to skirt far around the Le Feng Mountain region on the border between Lan Province and Ping Province. She would rather take a longer path through the mountains than risk entering the sphere of influence of the Yu Ling Sect.
As she headed south, the terrain gradually flattened, with more hills and river valleys appearing and human settlements growing denser. The villages and towns she passed were larger, and she occasionally saw small walled cities with simple fortifications.
She maintained her usual habits—traveling by day and cultivating or studying Lin Wan’s medical and pill-refining texts at night in secluded spots.
After the exchanges and verification in Qixia Mountain, her understanding of the demon cultivation path and her own powers had grown much clearer. Her skill at refining medicinal liquids and preparing simple medicinal powders had also become far more proficient.
The variety and quantity of spirit herbs stored in her consciousness aperture had increased considerably.
She had deliberately searched for several relatively common herbs that helped harmonize conflicting demon powers and relieve hidden injuries, refining them into specialized medicinal liquids as backup.
Along the way, she continued to quietly observe the local customs and atmosphere.
The mortals in southern Lan Province seemed slightly more prosperous than those in the northern mountains. Their awe toward mountain spirits and wild creatures had also grown fainter; they viewed them more as curious tales or potential threats rather than as “neighbors” one could communicate with.
She also encountered several groups of low-level cultivators.
Some were loose cultivators traveling together, while others were guards escorting merchant caravans. Most were at the Qi Refining stage, with the occasional early Foundation Establishment cultivator. These people moved with purpose, focused on their own affairs. As long as Bai Heng did not deliberately reveal herself, Heavenly Fox Concealment kept her presence completely undetected.
One day, she reached a hilly area called Green Ox Ridge.
This ridge served as a natural barrier on the southward route. The mountains were not steep, but the forests were dense and the paths winding.
It was noon. Sunlight filtered through layer upon layer of branches, casting dappled shadows across the woods.
Bai Heng was following a narrow trail worn by wild animals when her sharp divine sense suddenly caught a suppressed, intermittent whimpering sound ahead, mixed with faint, erratic demon power fluctuations.
The demon power was chaotic and weak, flickering in and out, carrying a sense of pain and despair.
Bai Heng paused, cautiously extending her divine sense forward.
Several dozen zhang ahead, in a relatively sparse clearing, a large creature lay collapsed on the ground.
It was a grayish-blue wild ox, but far sturdier than an ordinary one. Its curved horns gleamed with a faint metallic sheen. A deep, bone-exposing wound gaped across its neck, the torn flesh curled back and oozing dark-red blood that carried a foul, putrid stench.
The ox was clearly gravely injured, its life hanging by a thread. Its four legs kicked feebly as it tried to stand, only to fail each time. It could only let out low, agonized moans. A thread of extremely weak black corrosive energy lingered around the wound, steadily eroding its life force.
This was a wild ox that had awakened its spiritual intelligence and stepped onto the path of demon cultivation. Its demon power fluctuations placed it at the peak of the first tier, nearing the second tier. Yet it was now on the verge of death, barely able to maintain coherent thought.
Bai Heng concealed herself behind a large tree and observed for a moment.
The black corrosive energy around the wound felt both familiar and repulsive to her—it bore some resemblance to the clump of yin-cold black qi that had coiled around Yun Qing’s heart meridian back then, though far weaker. It was likely the residual damage from some yin poison technique or artifact.
The wound was fresh, the blood not yet fully dried. Whoever had attacked the ox had likely left not long ago.
She did not reveal herself immediately.
In the wild, encountering an injured demon beast—especially one with an unknown cause of injury—made approaching rashly a good way to invite disaster.
Yet the pain and helplessness in the ox’s eyes, along with its faint, unwilling will to survive, stirred something in her heart.
She remembered Little White, remembered the powerlessness she had felt watching Little White’s family collapse in the snow, and remembered why she had begun studying medicine in the first place.
After a brief hesitation, Bai Heng decided to help.
It was not purely out of kindness; she also wanted to practice the medical techniques she had recently learned, especially how to treat injuries laced with yin poison energy.
She kept Heavenly Fox Concealment active and approached silently.
When she was roughly three zhang away, she stopped and sent out an extremely faint thread of demon power carrying the cool, nourishing quality of moonlight. It brushed gently across the edge of the ox’s wound like a probing tendril.
The dying ox seemed to sense something. It struggled to lift its heavy head, its clouded eyes turning toward Bai Heng’s direction. But there was only empty air and the rustle of grass in the wind.
Confusion flashed in its eyes before being swallowed once more by pain.
After confirming there were no ambushes or traps nearby and that the attacker had already left, Bai Heng slowly revealed herself while still keeping her aura tightly restrained.
The sudden appearance of the white fox caused the ox’s muscles to tense. Fear and wariness flashed in its eyes as it tried to stand, only to aggravate the wound and collapse again with a pained grunt.
“Don’t move.”
Bai Heng spoke, her voice calm and carrying a strange soothing quality.
At the same time, a faint glow appeared between her brows. The illusory image of the white crescent bone pendant Mu Xuejun had given her flickered briefly at her forehead, releasing a wisp of a fourth-tier demon cultivator’s peaceful yet undeniable majestic aura.
Sensing the bone pendant’s aura, the ox’s rigid body noticeably relaxed. The fear in its eyes turned to awe and… perhaps a faint thread of hope.
It stopped struggling and simply breathed heavily, watching Bai Heng.
Bai Heng approached and first used her divine sense to carefully examine the wound.
It was deep, nearly severing half the neck. Fortunately, the major blood vessels and bones were intact. The real problem was the black corrosive energy lodged deep in the wound. It kept destroying newly forming granulation tissue, preventing healing and slowly eroding the surrounding healthy flesh.
She first took out a small jade bottle from her consciousness aperture. Inside was “Yin-Dispelling Powder” medicinal liquid she had refined earlier from several mild yang-type spirit herbs.
Using her telekinetic power, she evenly sprinkled the liquid over the wound’s surface.
The liquid hissed faintly on contact with the black energy, releasing thin wisps of dark smoke. The corrosive energy’s spread was noticeably slowed.
Next, she raised a front paw, a faint pale golden light glowing at her claw tips.
She condensed a thread of Heavenly Fox True Fire into countless hair-thin fire filaments and carefully inserted them into the wound from the edges, precisely burning and stripping away the black energy clinging to the deeper layers of flesh.
The process demanded extremely precise control. The slightest mistake would allow the fox fire to damage the ox’s already fragile flesh.
Bai Heng focused completely, pushing her divine sense and telekinetic power to their limits.
The ox trembled in agony but forced itself to endure, only letting out heavy nasal breaths.
After roughly the time it took to burn a stick of incense, most of the black energy inside the wound had been cleared, leaving only extremely faint traces.
Bai Heng then took out another medicinal liquid specifically for promoting muscle growth and healing, mixed it with a thread of weak life force, and guided it into the wound.
Only after finishing did she breathe a small sigh of relief.
The rest would depend on the ox’s own life force to slowly recover.
She took out several ordinary blood-nourishing herbs from her consciousness aperture and placed them beside the ox’s mouth.
“Eat these and rest. Don’t move around.”
The ox looked at her gratefully and laboriously extended its tongue to roll the herbs into its mouth, chewing and swallowing with difficulty.
Bai Heng retreated several steps and lay down beneath a nearby tree, recovering the energy she had just expended while staying on guard.
She had no intention of staying with the ox indefinitely. Once its condition stabilized, she would leave.
The sun slanted westward, and the light in the forest gradually dimmed.
Having swallowed the herbs and received initial treatment for its wound, the ox’s breathing had grown steadier. Though still weak, it was no longer in immediate danger of death. It struggled and finally managed to stand.
Its legs still trembled and its neck could not turn freely, but it rose unsteadily.
It looked toward Bai Heng and bent its front legs in a posture that resembled a kowtow, lowering its massive head deeply.
“Many… thanks… Senior… for saving my life…”
A hoarse, rasping voice like rusted iron scraping together entered Bai Heng’s sea of consciousness in broken segments.
It was a divine sense transmission. Clearly, the ox’s spiritual intelligence was not low, but its heavy injuries made fluent speech difficult.
Bai Heng gave a slight nod and said nothing more.
The ox held its lowered-head posture for a moment before slowly straightening.
It looked at Bai Heng again, as if wanting to say something, but ultimately only sent another broken transmission.
“Senior… be careful… the ones who injured me… went south… they… capture demons…”
The fragmented message carried fear and hatred.
Bai Heng’s heart stirred. South? Capturing demons?
She suddenly recalled Mu Xuejun’s warning—Le Feng Mountain lay to the south, home of the Yu Ling Sect…
“What did they look like?”
The ox struggled to recall, its divine sense fluctuating chaotically.
“People… three… black robes… chains… very painful…”
The information was scattered, but combined with “capture demons,” “black robes,” and “chains,” Bai Heng had a strong suspicion.
She looked at the battered ox, whose eyes still held lingering terror, and remained silent for a moment.
“Go north. Deep into the mountains. Hide.”
The ox seemed to understand. It nodded, bowed to her once more, then dragged its heavy body away, limping unsteadily toward the deep northern forest.
Bai Heng watched until it disappeared into the twilight, then turned her gaze southward.
Night was quietly falling.