Shang Xiangyu suddenly noticed several places where the writing was blurry; the light in the stone chamber was dim, making it even harder to distinguish.
Shang Xiangyu took the bamboo scroll outside the cave onto the large platform, pulling it apart with a rustling sound under the light of dawn...
Around Chen time, daybreak had been for a good while, Pan Yong hesitantly walked along the edge of the cliff to the outside of the large platform’s railing.
Standing outside the railing, Pan Yong saw a person standing on the large platform, facing the white mist roiling in the valley.
The morning mountain wind filled his sleeves, yet that person remained still, their back desolate.
It was Shang Xiangyu.
Struggling flashed in Pan Yong’s eyes, but he still climbed over the stone railing, watching Shang Xiangyu from a distance.
Shang Xiangyu stood with his hands behind his back, clutching a bamboo scroll in one hand as he watched the roiling white mist in the valley, silent.
Pan Yong took a few steps closer from the side and softly called out, "Master Shang."
Shang Xiangyu slightly turned his head, glanced coldly at Pan Yong standing far to his side, and asked, "What is it?"
In the moment he turned his head, Pan Yong saw Shang Xiangyu’s eyes were clear, no longer the red they were last night; the heart he had been holding onto finally relaxed as he approached and said, "Master Shang, last night the alchemy exploded, Tang Zhu is dead. How should we deal with this?"
Pan Yong hadn’t dared to approach; he feared Shang Xiangyu might go mad like last night, but the matter of Tang Zhu’s death could not be ignored, and he had to seek instructions.
Shang Xiangyu sighed.
What he loathed most were these trifles.
"Tell Old Qin from the Lower Courtyard, Registered Disciples are his responsibility; just say the alchemy explosion killed her. Do whatever he wants, just cooperate with him."
"Yes." Pan Yong retreated with a fist salute.
This was his own thought, but the matter still required Shang Xiangyu’s approval. He naturally knew Chen Hu was responsible for Tang Zhu’s death, but if investigated, Chen Hu might expose something else? Better to let sleeping dogs lie.
After all, isn’t it just a few Registered Disciples dead? In this sect, doesn’t every year see a few Registered Disciples die?
And is there a temple anywhere without a few unjust ghosts?
After Pan Yong left, Shang Xiangyu stood on the large platform again, watching the roiling white mist for a long time without moving. He suddenly murmured, "Blood Pill Technique?! Shang Xiangyu, do you truly intend to use it?"
He seemed to be asking himself, but he already knew the answer in his heart.
Shang Xiangyu suddenly turned, walked into the cave, placed the bamboo scroll on the desk, then walked out of the cave along the cliff, entering the dense forest.
Shang Xiangyu returned from the dense forest to the large platform outside the cave; at the railing in one corner of the platform, a figure was already sitting there, singing nonsense.
Shang Xiangyu looked at Shang Xin, who had iron chains around his waist, a complex and unbearable expression flashing in his eyes.
He walked over slowly and softly called, "Xin’Er!"
Shang Xin turned around immediately, giggling foolishly upon seeing Shang Xiangyu, arms outstretched, babbling, "Daddy, hug..."
From young, Shang Xiangyu had been extremely disgusted with this brother, and in the whole house, only his father cared for this foolish son, having taught him for over ten years, he could only manage to teach him how to vaguely say ’daddy’.
His father passed away six months ago due to illness, entrusting Shang Xin to him before dying.
Shang Xin was so foolish that Shang Xiangyu felt uneasy leaving him with anyone, thus he could only bring him into the mountains.
But Shang Xiangyu had no time to look after him, except to tie a chain around his waist to prevent him from falling off the cliff.
Shang Xiangyu squatted in front of Shang Xin, wiped the drool from his mouth, and said, "Xin’Er, I’m your brother, not daddy."
Confusion flashed in Shang Xin’s eyes.
Shang Xiangyu looked at Shang Xin’s slow-witted expression, shook his head slightly, and took a roasted mountain pheasant from the dense forest behind him.
Shang Xin’s eyes immediately lit up, grabbed it happily, giggling.
Shang Xin tore off a chicken leg and handed it to Shang Xiangyu.
Shang Xiangyu hesitated and said, "Xin’Er, brother doesn’t eat."
But Shang Xin stubbornly held it out to him again.
Shang Xiangyu’s eyes suddenly teared up, he took the chicken leg.
Shang Xin saw Shang Xiangyu take the chicken leg, laughed happily, and bit into the chicken’s rear.
Shang Xin chewed with big bites, enjoying the sweetness.
Looking at the chicken leg in his hand, a tear dripped from Shang Xiangyu’s eye; he suddenly reached out to remove some broken, dry leaves from Shang Xin’s head.
Shang Xiangyu looked at Shang Xin and said, "Xin’Er, if brother dies, you won’t be able to live either! Do you understand?"
Clearly, Shang Xin did not understand what Shang Xiangyu meant, he just chewed his chicken meat while making babbling noises.
A cruel glint flashed in Shang Xiangyu’s reddened eyes as he repeated, "Xin’Er, if brother dies, you will die as well."
After speaking, Shang Xiangyu stood up and walked into the cave.
The moment he stood up, his heart became cold as ironstone.
On the ground where Shang Xiangyu left, a single chicken leg was left lying there.
Shang Xin looked at the chicken leg, confused as if wondering where it had come from.
Shang Xiangyu entered the cave, pulled open the animal skin at the stone window of the side chamber, and sat at the desk.
At this moment, the side chamber was brightly lit.
On the desk, the opened bamboo scroll wrote: Blood Pill Technique.
With fresh human blood aiding the refinement, the Blood Pill, when complete, can retain over half of a normal pill’s potency.
Human blood, after refinement, will merge with the medicinal properties, indistinguishable.
Only a relative’s blood can ensure the unimpeded absorption of the pill’s potency.
Otherwise, incompatible blood will inhibit the absorption of the medicine’s potency.
"Xin’Er, brother still cannot die!" Shang Xiangyu stroked the scroll and wailed, his voice as piercing as a banshee.
"Shang Xin, if I die, you won’t survive either!"
"You were destined to die! You were always meant to die!"
Shang Xiangyu raised his head again; his eyes were already blood-red, and his expression was contorted with extreme anguish.
At that moment, he appeared like a wild beast, devouring and devouring its own body...