Chapter 118: Spirit-Gathering Formation — Dream-Weaving Art
Yan Mohan was infuriated by Qin Buyao’s attitude, his heart already seething with rage.
Could this woman really smile so happily after being violated? Did she even know how important a woman’s chastity was? Or did she truly not care at all?
From her attitude, she even intended to keep it hidden from Yan Han—so even if she had cuckolded him, she felt not the slightest bit of guilt?
Did she really have no sense of shame at all?
She was indeed a born slut!
And yet he had once felt the tiniest trace of pity for this woman!
The next day, Chief Eunuch Wang personally brought a bowl of medicine to Nan Xun.
She knew she would be drinking this medicine for the next few days—it was the contraceptive decoction.
Every woman in the harem, after being favored by the emperor, would take a contraceptive decoction the following morning. Yan Mohan did not allow any woman to become pregnant.
Other women might not understand the emperor’s reasoning, but Nan Xun knew it very well—because he was impotent. The one who “favored” the concubines was merely his shadow guard. How pitiful this group of women competing for favor was, taking pride in something like this.
This time, however, as Nan Xun drank the medicine, she felt that its taste was very different from before.
She immediately asked Little Eight, “Is this really a contraceptive decoction?”
Little Eight replied, “It’s not a contraceptive decoction. It’s a sterilizing decoction. Any woman who drinks it will never be able to conceive for the rest of her life.”
Nan Xun: …
“Very good. Yan Mohan is ruthless enough.” Nan Xun lowered her gaze slightly and drank the entire bowl in one go.
Seeing how decisively she drank it, Chief Eunuch Wang couldn’t help but sigh softly. As an old fox of the palace who had seen countless things, he only hoped that His Majesty would not regret today’s actions in the future.
Nan Xun rubbed her belly and smiled at Eunuch Wang. “Thank you for making the trip, Eunuch Wang. Please tell His Majesty that I could never bear his child in this lifetime. Even without this medicine, I would find my own way.”
Eunuch Wang cast her a complicated look. If Beauty Qin knew that what she drank wasn’t a contraceptive decoction but a sterilizing one…
In the harem, if a woman couldn’t bear a royal heir, her life was essentially over.
Looking at Beauty Qin’s lovely face, Eunuch Wang truly couldn’t understand why the emperor detested her so much. He prided himself on judging people well, and he could tell that Beauty Qin was a woman of genuine temperament—far more forthright than the other women in the harem.
What was most precious in the harem, after all, was precisely this kind of frankness.
After Eunuch Wang left, Nan Xun went about her business as usual, even taking pen and paper to write and draw.
Cui Huan leaned over to look for a long time but couldn’t make head or tail of it.
Nan Xun wasn’t afraid of her seeing it—although Cui Huan’s martial arts were good, she was completely illiterate.
“Your Highness, what are you writing?” she asked.
Nan Xun patted her head and said with a smile, “I’m making up stories—writing storybooks.”
“Your Highness, you’re really in the mood for it.”
Nan Xun just smiled without replying and neatly folded the stack of written pages.
When night fell, Nan Xun sent Cui Huan to the outer hall, then took out the thick stack of papers she had written during the day.
She bit her fingertip and used the blood to draw a complex rune on the paper.
Watching her actions, Little Eight asked nervously, “Y-you… what are you doing?”
Nan Xun replied calmly, “Earlier I asked you whether you could sneak into the big boss’s dreams and create a dream. You told me it wasn’t possible.”
Little Eight said, “I’m not a Dream-Weaving Beast! Of course I don’t have the ability to create dreams!”
“What’s a Dream-Weaving Beast?” Nan Xun asked curiously.
Little Eight explained, “A type of spirit beast that looks like a pig and can create dreams. But what exactly are you doing?”
Nan Xun let out an “oh.” “I’m drawing formations—can’t you tell? Since you can’t help me, I can only find a way myself. Yan Mohan’s hatred toward Qin Buyao is like maggots clinging to bone, gnawing at his flesh forever. If these maggots can’t be removed, the malice value will never be eliminated.”
Little Eight asked in alarm, “How do you plan to remove those maggots clinging to bone?”
Nan Xun’s lips curved slightly. “Little Eight, did you forget something? I was once Zui Li Xuan. I memorized all kinds of witchcraft and secret arts of the Beast-Taming Clan. One of those secret arts is dream-creation.”
Little Eight suddenly understood. “I get it! That thick stack of papers is all stories you made up—about the big boss’s previous life.”
Nan Xun nodded and then dipped her finger in tea and continued drawing on the table.
“This is a spirit-gathering formation. The spiritual energy in this world is thin, so I must first gather spiritual energy here before I can properly perform the dream-creation art.”
“Darling, you’re really deep in character—everything you say sounds so ancient,” Little Eight said, then suddenly remembered something and shouted, “No, you can’t! This isn’t a cultivation world rich in spiritual energy. If you casually perform witchcraft like this, you’ll shorten your lifespan!”
Nan Xun didn’t care. “So be it. Once I complete the task, I’ll leave sooner or later. Leaving means death anyway—what do I need a long lifespan for?”
Little Eight: …
Right—it almost forgot. The original Qin Buyao had long since been killed by the tyrant, dying miserably. It had merely guided her spirit onward and commandeered her body. Even though Nan Xun was now in Qin Buyao’s body, it was only this body’s lifespan that would be reduced.
“Little Eight, lend me some spiritual power. The spiritual energy gathered by this formation still isn’t enough.”
Little Eight cried out and immediately replied, “No way!”
“Be good, Little Eight. Once I eliminate the malice value, you’ll gain merit points. Think about it yourself—what’s more important, the spiritual energy you’re hoarding, or merit points, hmm?”
Little Eight instantly caved and obediently shared a bit of spiritual power, muttering softly,
“That’s all I can give you. I still need to preserve my strength to shatter the void—otherwise how will I go to the next world? I’m telling you, if something goes wrong in the next world, don’t blame me.”
“Don’t worry, darling, I won’t blame you.”
“You said that! If something really goes wrong, don’t come crying to me, hmph.”
With Little Eight’s help, the spiritual energy within the spirit-gathering formation instantly grew much denser. Nan Xun lit a strand of Yan Mohan’s hair, collected the ashes, and placed them into the dream-inducing formation drawn on the paper. She then rolled up the paper bearing the formation and the hair ashes and set it alight in the candle flame.
Nan Xun silently chanted incantations. When the entire stack of papers had burned away, she wiped the thin layer of sweat from her forehead and exhaled.
“All done. We’ll know tomorrow, from Yan Han’s reaction, whether this dream-creation art worked.”
That night, Yan Mohan had a dream.
Every night, he would awaken from nightmares of his previous life—but this time was different. It was not a nightmare.
He dreamed of his previous life as well, yet these were things he had never witnessed with his own eyes.
It was as if his soul had traveled back through time—and then he saw Qin Buyao.
