Having fought Yue Rong head-on once before, Qi Yun was already quite familiar with the scent of Demon Qi.

And compared to the aura Yue Rong emitted when transforming his human body into a Demon Body, this wisp of Demon Qi was clearly purer, though much fainter.

’A demon is lurking in this town?’

With his hands tucked in his sleeves, Qi Yun’s eyes flickered as his mind raced.

In this prosperous era, the Human Race was overwhelmingly powerful.

While they hadn’t completely exterminated all demons,

the Righteous Dao had a policy of killing any demon on sight.

As for the Demon Dao, these non-human beings—born of nature and nurtured by the essence of the sun and moon—were considered the finest of materials.

They would be skinned, their bones broken, their souls extracted, their spirits seized.

For a demon, it was better to be found by the Righteous Dao and granted a quick death by the sword.

That was why demons rarely showed their faces within the domain of the Human Race.

If they did, whether they encountered the Righteous Dao or the Demon Dao, a grim fate was almost certain.

’Forget it. A creature that can become a demon has already gained sentience.

Although this one’s aura is faint and intermittent... it’s obviously severely injured.

But my own Cultivation hasn’t recovered yet. What if it lashes out in a final, desperate struggle... Better not to court disaster.’

Shaking his head, Qi Yun turned to find another place to rest. It was better to avoid unnecessary trouble.

He was a Holy Sect Disciple with a limitless future; why would he need to fight a minor demon to the death?

But in the instant he turned, the Demon Qi suddenly intensified.

A familiar thrum of excitement rose in Qi Yun’s heart.

He froze mid-stride.

Hmm?

’This little demon has a Spiritual Object?’

’Tsk. No, that’s not right. This aura is mixed in with the Demon Qi, completely fused with it.’

’This little demon must have an extraordinary bloodline. Its very essence contains Daoist Intent!’

’Now this is some top-shelf stuff!’

"Sigh..."

After a moment of silence, he suddenly slammed his right fist into his left palm.

With his decision made, he flicked his sleeve, turned, and strode toward the small town permeated by Demon Qi.

...

Night deepened as a fine rain pattered on the bluestone-paved streets of Datang Town.

In a second-floor room of an inn named Zi Zhai Hall, Qi Yun sat meditating, slowly restoring the True Qi he had over-exhausted.

The gentle murmur of the rain outside the window only accentuated the night’s tranquility.

However, this tranquility did not last long.

A faint but incessant sobbing, mingled with suppressed, tear-choked pleas, intermittently pierced the curtain of rain and reached Qi Yun’s ears.

"Please... have mercy... open the door..."

"Please, save my child... Just one look, I’m begging you..."

His brow furrowed slightly. Qi Yun rose, went to the window, and gently pushed it open a crack to look down.

On the rain-slicked street below, a thin, frail woman staggered forward. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

She was soaked to the bone, her disheveled hair clinging to her pale, gaunt cheeks, cutting a pathetic figure.

She clutched a small body to her chest, wrapped in a ragged cotton cloth. From its size, it appeared to be a child of about three to five years old.

At every door she came to, the woman would beat desperately on the wooden surface with hands red from the cold, her mournful voice repeating the same pleas for help.

Mostly, however, she was met with deathly silence.

Once in a while, a door would creak open a sliver, revealing half of a wary, impatient face.

But the moment their eyes fell upon the unnervingly still child in her arms, their expressions would change dramatically, as if they had seen some terrible omen. They would frantically wave her away, and then a heavy "SLAM" would echo as the door was shut, extinguishing the faint glimmer of hope.

"Go on, get out of here! Don’t bring your bad luck to our door!"

"That sickness your child has... We can’t help with that. Go ask someone else!"

The cold rebukes and slamming doors pierced the already desperate woman’s heart time and time again.

She stood before the closed doors, her figure looking ever more small and helpless in the biting wind and cold rain, yet she never failed to clutch the child in her arms even tighter.

The rain began to fall harder.

Fat drops of rain hammered the ground, splashing in the growing puddles.

The woman seemed to have finally exhausted her last ounce of strength. She understood now that no one else would open their door for her.

She lowered her head and gently nuzzled the cheek of the silent child in her arms, a whimper like that of a wounded animal escaping her throat.

Finally, she could only turn and, holding her child, stumble toward the more remote and dimmer corners of the town, her steps heavy and uneven.

The entire time, Qi Yun’s gaze had been fixed on the child in the woman’s arms.

’Demon Qi...’

He’d spent the day wandering the town without finding another trace of Demon Qi, yet now it was emanating from a child with a perilously weak life force.

After a moment’s contemplation, Qi Yun’s figure vanished silently from the window. Like a ghost melting into the night, he began to follow.

The woman lived in the Northwest corner of town. The house was dilapidated, but the entryway was swept clean, a testament to the owner’s diligence.

But this tidiness only served to highlight the abject poverty within.

Having followed the woman, Qi Yun stood silently in the shadows outside, his gaze piercing through a tear in the window paper to look inside.

Inside, a single oil lamp, its flame no bigger than a bean, cast a dim, yellow light.

The woman carefully laid the child on a bed plank covered by a clean but heavily patched mattress. She then found a soft cloth, old but washed until it was faded, and meticulously wiped the rain from the child’s face, hair, and body.

Her fingers trembled slightly from the cold and her fatigue, yet her eyes were filled with boundless sorrow and a nearly despairing tenderness.

The child’s eyes were shut tight, its face an unhealthy shade of bluish-gray. Its breathing was so faint it was nearly imperceptible, its small chest rising and falling with the barest of movements, as if it might cease at any moment.

After drying the child, she sat on the edge of the bed, reached out, and stroked the child’s cold little face again and again.

Tears, like pearls from a broken string, slid silently down her cheeks. They dripped onto the child’s colorless lips, only to be quickly wiped away with her sleeve.

Time trickled by. The child’s breathing grew ever fainter, its spark of life flickering like a candle in the wind.

Finally, her last shred of resilience shattered.

THUD.

The woman suddenly slid from the edge of the bed, her knees crashing heavily onto the cold floor.

She threw her head back, tears streaming down her face, and looked up at the leaking roof—at the void, at a Heaven and Earth that seemed to have never shown her an ounce of mercy. Using all the strength left in her body, she pleaded:

"Oh, Heavens above—all you gods and Bodhisattvas—"

"I beg you! Please, show some Compassion!"

"If you must take a life, take mine! Don’t take my son’s!"

Her cries were heart-wrenching.

She kowtowed again and again, her forehead striking the cold floor, her thin shoulders wracked with violent sobs.

Outside the window, Qi Yun stood silently in the rain, his face expressionless.

But as he listened to the woman’s desperate, blood-soaked pleas, a flicker of movement stirred in the depths of his eyes.

...