Canon of the Poison God

Since stepping into this domain, Qin Sang had encountered one bizarre phenomenon after another. The White Jade Old Man appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary statue. Yet a pitch-black skeleton knelt before it, prostrated in full veneration—a posture testifying to absolute devotion. For this black skeleton to have reached this sanctuary in life, its cultivation could not have been weak. For a cultivator of no small attainment to show such devout reverence, either they had been controlled, or a genuine deity held dominion over this realm. On guard, Qin Sang quietly took in the mountain grotto. Beneath the black skeleton, he noticed a brocade pouch. Its colors were vivid and fresh; it was undoubtedly a treasure. Apart from it, he saw no magical treasures or jade slips, suggesting the pouch was likely a mustard-seed spatial artifact. Qin Sang also observed that the skeleton's posture was unnatural. Several of its bones were twisted and broken, showing that the person had suffered grievous wounds before dying. He immediately thought of the severed bones outside the stone door. This skeleton was intact, so the fragments outside had to belong to someone else. A fierce battle had once taken place here. *An internal feud, or an external foe?* Qin Sang pondered in silence. The restriction upon the secret door could shield against the senses of the flower spirits, but it was unclear whether it could fend off the evil ghosts. In life, those two might have fallen prey to an evil ghost's assault, or turned on each other in mutual slaughter. The flesh had long since decayed to bare bone, indicating that vast ages had passed. With bones strewn everywhere, no useful traces remained to be found. Still, these discoveries were enough to put Qin Sang on high alert. The White Jade Old Man, the evil ghost of unknown origin, and the looming possibility of an entire nest of such ghosts—everything pointed to something deeply unnatural. "The world has Heavenly Gods of the Daoist sects, and it has Spirit Gods among the demons... so naturally, there are evil deities..." Qin Sang cast one last glance at the White Jade Old Man, pondered briefly, and slowly retreated. Returning to the space behind the stone door, he sat cross-legged. He had chosen not to advance into the cavern, probe the White Jade Old Man with his divine sense, or seize the brocade pouch. A rash move might invite trouble, trapping him between threats within and without and placing him in dire peril. His current condition was poor, and purging the toxins accumulated within his body was an urgent matter. Since there was no immediate danger, his priority was to heal and recover his strength as quickly as possible. The belly of the mountain was tranquil, feeling like an entirely different realm from the world outside. The stone door remained steadfast, confirming that the flower spirits could not force their way in. Qin Sang commanded the Heavenly Eye Butterfly to keep watch—not primarily against the flower spirits outside, but against the divine idol within. Calming his mind, he entered meditation and spurred the Poison Bead to refine the lethal toxins within him. After meticulous scrutiny, he discerned the underlying connection among these virulent poisons. The poison in the water, the toxic ward on the seventh arch of the palace, the venom of the evil ghost, and even the restriction on the hidden door were all inextricably intertwined with the floral venom of the flower fields. Qin Sang surmised that the hidden door utilized the flower venom to lay down its ward, which was why it could shut out the senses of the flower spirits. From this, it was evident that the bone flower field was the very foundation of this entire poisonous domain. The floral poison in the fields was fused with the rancor of the flower spirits, rendering its virulence all the more fierce. Handled carelessly, having this venomous resentment invade the mind would pose no small trouble. Qin Sang, naturally, had no fear of this, treating it as ordinary virulent poison. With the situation uncertain, and aiming for a swift recovery, he did not attempt to feed it to the Poison Bead; instead, he circulated his poison-warding radiance to expel it. Before long, a faint black vapor rose from his skin, followed by flashes of multicolored radiance as wisps of toxic mist were forced out of his body. The expelled vapors drifted toward his chest, where they were bound by a layer of poison-warding radiance, unable to disperse. Gradually, the lethal venom forced from his body dwindled. His complexion finally returned to normal, and exhaling a long plume of turbid breath, he placidly opened his eyes. A clear, piercing light shone in his gaze; he was fully restored! Glancing at the toxic mist before him, Qin Sang made a grasping motion with his hand. The mist condensed into a bead, though its color was mottled, far less pure than the bead within the evil ghost. Stowing it casually into his Qianjun Ring, he glanced at the hidden door, rose to his feet, and walked into the cavern. The White Jade Old Man remained as before, perched upon the offering altar without the slightest anomaly. Now backed by confidence, Qin Sang scrutinized the statue boldly before shifting his gaze to the brocade pouch. He reached out with an inviting gesture, and the pouch flew into his hand of its own accord. As expected, it was indeed a mustard-seed spatial artifact. Its former master had left no special seals upon it, saving Qin Sang a great deal of trouble. Opening the pouch, its contents were laid bare to his sight. Yet as he examined them carefully, his brow gradually furrowed. Most of the items inside were trivial sundries, falling far short of his expectations. He found nothing to prove the black skeleton's identity, nor any jade slips to shed light on its background through cultivation methods or secret arts. He could only conclude that the person had been exceptionally well-versed in the dao of poison. Regrettably, there were no records concerning the flower fields; he would still have to find an exit on his own. Glancing at the White Jade Old Man, Qin Sang pondered for a moment and decided to venture outside first. He was eager to go out partly to gain a thorough understanding of this space, and partly to search for Qingdan Yuanjun and Boxian Shanren. If the two True Persons had also been unfortunate enough to fall into the flower fields and could not escape, they were likely reaching their limits. Having explored this place multiple times, they were bound to know secrets hidden from others, which might help clarify the origins of the flower fields and reveal a way out. Qin Sang had always made a habit of securing a retreat before acting; once an escape was assured, he could investigate the White Jade Old Man at leisure, knowing he could extract himself in time if anything went awry. There was another reason for his caution: though he had analyzed the floral poison, he could not connect it to the bizarre venom that had killed several core disciples of Mole Cricket Mountain, indicating that other perils still lurked here. He strode back to the entrance and pressed his palm to the stone door. While he had been neutralizing the poison, the Heavenly Eye Butterfly had already mapped out the intricate pathways of the door's restriction, etching them clearly into his mind. With a flash of light, Qin Sang emerged outside the stone door. The flower field, which had settled into quiet, instantly stirred. Flower spirits and clouds of toxic resentment surged forward, pursuing Qin Sang with rabid fury. Soaring into the high sky, he surveyed his surroundings. Finding no anomalies among the layered mountain ranges, he promptly channeled Thunder Escape, leaping across the towering ridges with the intent of returning to the deepest flower field. The two deepest flower fields corresponded to the two main halls. Qin Sang had previously fallen into the one on the left; now, he headed toward the other. Unfurling sword arts and thunder methods in unison, he carved open a path. Radiant spirit flowers and heaped white bones came into view. The skeletons in this field were pristine white and of extraordinary quality. Swarms of flower spirits charged forth in madness, yet there were no evil ghosts, nor could he find any sign of the two True Persons. He did not know whether the flower spirits devoured flesh and blood; if the two True Persons had perished here, they might have already been reduced to white bones. Sweeping his divine sense wildly across the entire flower field, he found no relics left by the two. Just then, Qin Sang's gaze locked onto the area behind the field. According to the palace's layout, there should have been no more flower fields there, only towering peaks and mountain ranges. Yet at this moment, he noticed something strange about that region. *Crack!* The Five Thunders Heavenly Heart Righteous Seal reappeared to strike down the flower spirits, and Qin Sang ascended higher, gaining a clear view. Directly behind the two flower fields, the peaks were markedly dimmer than their surroundings, as if shrouded beneath a veil of gray haze, shadowy and unnervingly eerie. After staring for just a few breaths, Qin Sang felt a prickle of dread race down his spine. At his level of cultivation, with a spiritual sense so keen, an illusion was virtually impossible. There was only one explanation: that place was exceedingly perilous! Qin Sang had no intention of investigating it in person. He decisively withdrew from the flower field, racing outward at full speed across one field after another until he reached the position corresponding to the palace gates. The result was disappointing; he found neither an exit nor any sign of the two True Persons. He continued flying outward. The expanse of this space exceeded all imagination, but Qin Sang eventually reached the boundary of the mountains. Like the sky above, the perimeter was sealed by a distorting force. Having searched to no avail, and with a large quantity of floral poison accumulating within him once more, Qin Sang had no choice but to return to the mountain grotto. Losing their target, the flower spirits scattered and returned to their cocoons to slumber. The area gradually regained its calm, yet a lingering, deathly stillness pervaded the entire space. Before Qin Sang had intruded, this domain had remained this way for uncounted years; not even the dancing flower spirits could erase that pervasive sense of death. Lightly stroking the stone door, Qin Sang fell into deep thought. Then, with swift taps of his fingers, he sent a series of incantation seals into the door, merging them into the toxic ward to claim it as his own. This act did not alter the restriction's power; it merely allowed him to operate it with greater ease and peer into the outside world through the ward. The Heavenly Eye Butterfly flew out from his qi ocean, circled around him, and dissolved into the restriction, taking in the sky in its entirety. Qin Sang sat cross-legged behind the stone door once more, his mind connected to the Heavenly Eye Butterfly. As he neutralized the poison, he observed the power sealing the space. After some time, he finally caught sight of an irregularity! Locking his Heavenly Eye divine ability onto a specific point in the sky, Qin Sang furrowed his brow, seemingly deducing something with undivided focus. Gradually, his brow relaxed. Barring any unforeseen circumstance, what lay beyond that spot was a mist cluster—one of the passages leading out of this space! Knowing how to depart, Qin Sang's expression eased. Leaving the Heavenly Eye Butterfly to monitor the outside, he entered the grotto for the third time. With his misgivings gone, Qin Sang detached a strand of divine sense and probed directly toward the White Jade Old Man. A moment later, a look of surprise crossed his face. As his divine sense sank into the white jade, he found it was not a divine idol at all, yet far from ordinary: like a jade slip, it sealed a secret scripture within! Breaking through the seal, profound passages immediately surfaced in Qin Sang's mind, bearing the title *Canon of the Poison God*! Judging from the name, it appeared to be a sacred scripture of the poison dao. His interest piqued, Qin Sang studied it attentively. Having read only halfway through, he drew in a sharp breath, shock evident in his eyes as he murmured, "The flower fields were actually created by hand as fertile soil to cultivate poison! White bones serve as corpse fertilizer, harvested for the dew of the venomous flowers..." Just then, the Heavenly Eye Butterfly transmitted a thought. Reining in his contemplation, Qin Sang looked through its senses to behold the scene beyond the mountain. At a certain spot in the sky, the distorting force began to fluctuate abnormally, giving rise to a wind vortex high in the air. This was an external power. Yet the vortex was contorted and struggled to take shape; it was clear that the power was trying to breach the firmament, but unable to pierce the distorting force, it could only barely sustain the vortex. At this sight, understanding dawned upon Qin Sang: the ones outside were very likely the two True Persons, attempting to rescue him. They had already escaped. Indeed, Qingdan Yuanjun had investigated the poisonous domain many times; though she had not unraveled its full truth, she had uncovered several signs and secrets, which had only become clear when the palace underwent its upheaval. Even so, while they had escaped danger, both had been gravely wounded. Forcibly suppressing the virulent toxins in their bodies and hastily recovering a fraction of their strength, they had located a mist cluster to mount a rescue. If Qin Sang was still alive and saw this celestial phenomenon, combining efforts from within and without would offer a chance to escape. *People worth befriending, after all,* Qin Sang nodded inwardly. In this realm's Daoist sects, while demons lurked on the periphery, order reigned within. Monster beasts and vicious beasts were inexhaustible, unlike the Storm Realm where cultivation resources were so scarce. Most Daoist cultivators he encountered prioritized moral cultivation and held righteousness in their hearts. There was even a well-known adage passed down among them: *If one seeks to cultivate the Dao and nurture life, one must first accumulate virtuous deeds and merits. Merit without conduct leaves the Dao fruit difficult to attain; only when merit and conduct are both complete is one truly a True Person.* Even so, Qin Sang did not respond to the two True Persons. The *Canon of the Poison God* had opened his eyes to an extraordinary path, and he was unwilling to depart just yet. *Since they are safe, there is no need to meet with them right now. I can think of an excuse later...* The spirit array of this space was recorded in the *Canon of the Poison God*. Anyone ignorant of the array could only enter and exit the flower fields through a single entrance: the spirit tree in the palace. The palace was merely an illusion to mislead prying eyes. Originally, a restriction within the palace had concealed the tree, but perhaps due to the passage of time and its location inside the ever-shifting parish altar, the array had suffered damage, causing the spirit tree to manifest and even projecting portions of the flower fields into reality to form mist clusters. Ignorant of the truth, Qingdan Yuanjun had uprooted the spirit tree and destroyed the entrance, triggering the collapse of the palace and unleashing a terrifying distortion of void in its place that only grew fiercer. Even via the mist clusters, leaving was easy, but entering was arduous. The wind vortex in the sky lingered for a time before finally dissipating. Receiving no response, the two True Persons assumed Qin Sang had met with misfortune and had no choice but to depart the poisonous domain to purge the toxins within themselves. Qin Sang was now wholly immersed in deciphering the *Canon of the Poison God*. At first, he had merely been shocked by the origins of the bone flower fields. But as he read through the entire scripture, he was immediately awed by the profound methods it contained. Without a doubt, this was a sacred text of the poison dao, a premier legacy. It likely did not originate from the Daoist sects, for the canon made no mention of any talismanic registers. It was no longer possible to tell what talismanic register the black skeleton had practiced in life, but the Daoist sects certainly would not harbor such an evil, heterodox method that heaped corpses into fields and nourished poison with white bones. What was certain was that the black skeleton had undoubtedly cultivated the *Canon of the Poison God* in life. Qin Sang retrieved two jade slips: the secret body-refining technique that used poison, which he had received from Qingdan Yuanjun. This secret art had indeed originated from the *Canon of the Poison God*, but it was merely a fragment of the legacy—and not even the core, but a specialized auxiliary technique. The *Canon of the Poison God* was far more daring: its core method was to draw virulent poisons into the body, refining them into poison essence to rapidly advance one's cultivation. The bone flower fields were medicinal plots. The flower spirits were not sentient beings, but an exceptionally rare kind of poisonous flower whose dew served as a top-grade poison, uniquely suited for cultivating poison essence! Drawing virulent poisons into oneself to cultivate naturally entailed unimaginable peril. During cultivation, residual toxins inevitably accumulated within the body. As the lethal venom built up beyond one's ability to suppress it, the day would surely come when the poison erupted and claimed one's life. Thus, that secret art of tempering the body with poison had been created. By utilizing the residual toxins to temper the physical form, it purged the remaining poison on one hand while fortifying the flesh on the other, enhancing one's resistance to lethal venom and achieving an unconventional dual cultivation of magic and physique. Even so, this approach was still akin to drinking poison to quench a thirst; it could never truly resolve the underlying danger. As cultivation advanced, the virulent poison took deep root, and once begun, cultivation could never be halted, lest the venom erupt instantly. Unless one broke through to a higher realm in cultivation or physical strength before the venom erupted, there was no chance of survival. Practicing this method was nothing less than a race against the poison within oneself. Handled properly, it was an extraordinary art without equal in the world; handled poorly, it was pure suicide—and this black skeleton was a vivid testament to that truth!