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By the time Song Zhizhi had sorted out her current situation, Song Miaomiao had already led her maid far away. A bottle of pills had been left on the ground, likely the Clearheart Pills Song Miaomiao had fed her earlier.

Staying where she was meant waiting for death, but taking no antidote also meant waiting for death. Song Zhizhi struggled up from the ground, clutching the Clearheart Pills as she staggered after Song Miaomiao.

Spring Day Powder had no antidote. But if she truly had to choose a way to die, Song Zhizhi would rather suffer the agony of ten thousand ants devouring her heart than be harvested by a Demonic Cultivator.

Yet she did not know whether cultivators simply traveled swiftly, or whether Spring Day Powder had tortured Song Zhizhi until she had lost her sense of direction. After walking several hundred meters, she lost track of Song Miaomiao.

The Clearheart Pills could only suppress it for a short while. Spring Day Powder began acting up again. Song Zhizhi felt her body growing hotter and hotter, while a faint stabbing pain pricked at her chest, as though ants were gnawing at it.

Trembling, Song Zhizhi took out the bottle Song Miaomiao had left behind, poured out a Clearheart Pill, and swallowed it.

Once the effects of Spring Day Powder subsided, Song Zhizhi tipped out the Clearheart Pills in the jade bottle and counted them.

There had originally been nine Clearheart Pills in the bottle. Song Zhizhi had taken two, leaving seven.

The effect of one Clearheart Pill could last roughly twenty minutes. In other words, if she wanted to live, she had to find a man to detoxify her within three hours.

Song Zhizhi feared death, but she feared even more being harvested by a Demonic Cultivator and dying in an even more humiliating manner.

There seemed to be some movement in the distance behind her. Thinking of the perverse Demonic Cultivators described in the book, Song Zhizhi gritted her teeth and headed deeper into the dense forest.

The time the Clearheart Pills could remain effective seemed to be getting shorter and shorter. At first, one pill could suppress Spring Day Powder for twenty minutes, but then it gradually dropped to eighteen minutes, seventeen minutes...

Song Zhizhi looked at the last Clearheart Pill in the bottle. All around her was dense primeval forest. There were no Demonic Cultivators, not even a living creature. The surroundings were silent to an extreme.

But tortured by the drug's effects, Song Zhizhi did not notice this anomaly.

Song Zhizhi put the pill back into her clothes and continued onward.

After she finished the last Clearheart Pill, Song Zhizhi passed through the thick forest and reached the edge of a cliff. Looking down at the bottomless abyss below, she knew that if she jumped from here, she certainly would not survive.

She feared death, but she feared even more being tortured by the drug until living was worse than dying.

Bitterness filled Song Zhizhi's heart. The original owner had truly gotten her killed. She had been lying perfectly well in bed reading a novel, without provoking anyone, yet who would have thought that after closing and opening her eyes, she would transmigrate here and take her place in suffering this torment.

Why?

She wanted to go back!

Song Zhizhi closed her eyes. Just as her foot stretched over the cliff's edge, she fearfully pulled it back.

"No, it's too high. What if I'm lucky enough not to die from the fall, but end up paralyzed?"

Song Zhizhi's eyelashes trembled as she took two steps back, moving farther from the cliff's edge.

"But if Spring Day Powder acts up and I don't find a man to detoxify me within three shichen, I'll definitely die too. There isn't even a shadow of a person in this wilderness. Who am I supposed to find to detoxify me?"

Song Zhizhi's eyes were full of struggle. She was only an ordinary person, and ordinary people feared death.

Either she jumped down and died cleanly and swiftly without suffering, or she waited for the drug to act up and died in the agony of ten thousand ants devouring her heart.

"Unless a man falls from the sky, I might as well jump once the drug acts up. Surviving a fall from a great height is protagonist treatment. With my identity as the vicious supporting female character, I'll definitely die."

Song Zhizhi stood at the cliff's edge talking to herself. But just as her words fell, she suddenly heard a bang, like the sound of something falling from the sky and striking the ground.

Song Zhizhi jumped in fright. Turning her head to look, she fell silent for a moment, then raised her eyes to the sky. "A man really can fall from the heavens?"

She was standing at the highest point in the area, with no trees nearby. This man could only have fallen from the sky.

"As expected of an immortal cultivation world. This is perfectly reasonable."

The man on the ground seemed injured. His moon-white brocade robe was stained with blood. He lay face-down, making his features impossible to see, but the exposed skin on his hand was smooth and delicate, his joints distinct. He should have been a young man.

Song Zhizhi gathered her courage and walked over, poking him with a finger.

The man did not react. He appeared to have already fallen unconscious.

"But he's unconscious. What use is he?"

For her to do that sort of thing with a severely wounded man who was on his last breath... given the current situation, he might croak halfway through.

Song Zhizhi searched her own conscience. She did not have a corpse fetish.

People could not do that. At the very least, they should not.

"Forget it. I'm about to die anyway, so these medicines are useless to me. I'll feed you some healing pills. Whether you live or die depends on your luck."

The original owner had been traveling with Song Miaomiao to attend the Sword Sect's once-in-a-decade new disciple selection tournament, so she had brought many healing pills. But those pills could not cure Spring Day Powder's poison. They were useless to Song Zhizhi now, so she might as well use them to save someone, treating it as a good deed for the day.

If the man woke up, she might yet be saved.

Song Zhizhi laboriously turned the man over. Then, catching sight of his face, she could not help freezing.

The man looked to be in his early twenties. His features were deep and handsome, his eyes tightly shut and his thin lips faintly pursed. He exuded a cold, proud air that kept others a thousand miles away. His white robes were stained with blood, giving him a shattered, battle-worn fragility.

Song Zhizhi stared at his face and swallowed.

"He's so handsome, but if he can't help me detoxify, what use is he?" Song Zhizhi clicked her tongue, then roughly pried open the man's mouth and stuffed the pill inside.

Once the pill entered his mouth, the wounds on his body improved somewhat. At the very least, the bleeding had stopped.

But the man still showed no sign of waking. Song Zhizhi waited a while longer, only for the effects of Spring Day Powder within her to slowly surge up again. Heat rushed through her body, her limbs turned weak and limp, and it felt as though ants were scurrying over the tip of her heart. The drug inside her body had rebounded, even more violently than before.

"Mm..." Song Zhizhi could not stop herself from going limp. Her breathing was ragged, her cheeks flushed, and she panted heavily as her eyes grew somewhat unfocused.

Rankings

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Transmigrated into a Book

Sweet Romance

Transmigration and Rebirth Romance

Tu Yanyan

Amnesia Trope