The Third Young Master of the Cui family had vanished mysteriously on the night the demon appeared.
Many days later, he was still nowhere to be found, dead or alive.
Most people in the Old Capital suspected he had met a grizzly end at the hands of the demon.
As for his remains…
Demonic Cultivators were sinister and wicked, preferring to use bones and corpses to refine pills or artifacts.
Perhaps the Third Young Master’s body had already become raw material in a furnace.
There were also rumors that Miss Zheng, who had disappeared some time ago, might have also encountered the demon.
However, the Zheng family refused to acknowledge her disappearance; they were even ostentatiously preparing for an upcoming wedding.
Nevertheless, because of the demon’s appearance, a nameless shadow loomed over the entire Old Capital.
It had been eighteen years, and the people of the Old Capital had long since grown accustomed to peace and comfort.
Those days of widespread panic only existed in the memories of the middle-aged and elderly.
The older one was, the more they feared and hated Demonic Cultivators, turning pale at the mere mention of them.
Take Mr. Yi, for instance.
“I have practiced medicine for decades and seen many people wounded by Demonic Qi,” Mr. Yi remarked with a sigh as he smiled.
“It is truly a miracle that the Third Young Master survived after being eroded by it.”
As he spoke, he packed away his pulse-diagnostic cushion.
Wang Sandong smiled and said, “It must be the protection of the Wang family ancestors.”
Mr. Yi chuckled and added, “Regardless of the reason, since the Third Young Master survived, my conscience will not have to suffer.”
He paused and sighed.
“Trading one life for another ultimately goes against the heavens; it is not something a physician should do.”
“You’re overthinking it, sir,” Wang Sandong replied.
Mr. Yi said nothing more, only glancing at Wang Sandong as if he wanted to say something else.
Upon leaving Anzhi Courtyard, Mr. Yi’s expression turned somber.
As he neared the main gate of the Wang Mansion, he suddenly stopped, turned around, and walked back.
Halfway there, he encountered a servant and asked, “Where is the steward?”
The servant, being sensible, answered and led the way.
The steward of a prestigious family had his own courtyard, an independent little space slightly smaller than Wang Sandong’s Anzhi Courtyard.
Mr. Yi entered through the arched gate and saw the Old Butler tending to the flowers.
The Old Butler was highly respected, appearing almost like a second master of the Wang family.
The courtyard was filled with lush, competing blooms.
A single breath filled the lungs with fragrance, and the sight was one of complete tranquility.
Holding a watering can, the Old Butler looked at Mr. Yi and continued watering.
“Heh, Mr. Yi, what do you think of this Heaven-Severing Flower I’ve grown?”
Before him, the petals of the flower, drenched in fresh water, were agonizingly beautiful.
Clear droplets rolled off the petals, but they turned a deep crimson, looking just like blood.
Mr. Yi watched the blood-like droplets fall to the ground and sink into the soil.
He frowned and said, “In this world, things like snakes and flowers are more poisonous the more beautiful they are.”
He paused.
“Occasionally, the same is true for people.”
The Old Butler laughed and set down the watering can.
“What are you trying to teach me, sir?”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
Mr. Yi looked at the Old Butler, hesitated, then bowed with his hands clasped.
“The Third Young Master was immersed in Demonic Qi and did not die; he even shows signs of coexisting with it. Are you not worried?”
The Old Butler smiled and asked, “What? Do you suspect the Third Young Master is a Demonic Cultivator?”
Mr. Yi gave a bitter smile and shook his head.
“Without a Spiritual Root, how could he practice Demonic Arts? I simply feel… it is somewhat eerie. Furthermore…”
He stopped, his gaze burning as he stared at the Old Butler.
“I am curious to know what you intend to do, senior?”
“I have no intentions,” the Old Butler replied with a smile.
Mr. Yi snorted and said, “I highly doubt that.”
The Old Butler continued to smile.
He didn’t respond but made a gesture of invitation.
The two men then entered the house.
—
It was mid-morning, and the sun was not yet particularly harsh.
Sunlight spilled over the Heaven-Severing Flowers, reflecting a seductive brilliance.
Of all the flowers in the world, only the Heaven-Severing was the most beautiful.
It was also the most poisonous.
Although Wang Sandong often called himself a crude person, he couldn’t help but stop to admire its beauty when he first saw it.
He had wanted to find a seedling to plant in Anzhi Courtyard, but the Old Butler had stopped him.
The Old Butler told him: “Though the Heaven-Severing is beautiful, it brings only death.”
This was, of course, an exaggeration.
The Old Butler frequently tended to the flowers and was still alive and well.
Wang Sandong didn’t believe him, but he abandoned the idea of planting them anyway.
He didn’t have the patience for it.
Throughout the day, he was either out wandering or buried in the library reading.
Now that he had cultivation to attend to, he was even busier.
Lately, he had been going to the library less frequently.
It wasn’t just because he had already read every interesting book there over the past sixteen years.
It was also because he had discovered a better way to ‘read’ without books: killing people!
Miss Zheng had been studious.
The Zheng family’s Hundred Scriptures Tower was rich in books, and she had read many of them.
Even that playboy Cui San’er had read many classics under the supervision of his elders.
Now, all that knowledge had been ‘appropriated’ by Wang Sandong.
Besides books, he also had the techniques of the two great families.
The Zheng family’s Noble Spirit Art and the Cui family’s Life-Taking Sword Technique—either one would be considered a peerless secret manual by many Spiritual Cultivators in the martial world.
Unfortunately, Wang Sandong couldn’t use either of them.
It felt like being stranded on a desert island while sitting on a mountain of gold.
On the other hand, the Demonic Art Huitian was like a dilapidated shack on that desert island; it could at least provide him with shelter from the wind and rain.
However…
Wang Sandong glanced at Wang Tong, who was fanning him with a palm-leaf fan and looking incredibly simple-minded.
He suddenly gave a light chuckle as an idea struck him.
“Wang Tong, how about I teach you how to cultivate?”
Wang Tong, who was busy fanning Wang Sandong, froze.
He stared wide-eyed at his master’s sleepy expression, wondering if Wang Sandong was talking in his sleep.
Could someone with a lowly life and a weak root like him actually cultivate?
Could a little beggar who had nearly starved to death on the streets three years ago be worthy of cultivation?
In a daze, Wang Tong felt as if he had returned to that winter three years ago.
Exhausted and starving, he had heard a voice that sounded like heavenly music.
“Hey, are you dead yet? If not, come home with me.”
As his half-dead self opened his eyes, he saw a face as beautiful as a goddess.
At this moment, Wang Tong swallowed hard and asked in a trembling voice, “Can… can I?”
Wang Sandong smiled.
“I can teach you, but you must keep it a secret. No one else can know.”
If a prestigious family’s secret technique was practiced by an outsider and word got out, it would certainly cause trouble.
“I understand,” Wang Tong replied urgently.
He tried to suppress the excitement in his heart, forcing himself to stay calm as he said, “Though I am dull, I know that something like demonic cultivation must be kept secret.”
‘Demonic cultivation?’
Wang Sandong smiled bitterly.
It seemed Wang Tong thought he was going to teach him Huitian.
That was fine.
If the boy thought he was practicing a demonic art, he would be even more cautious.
“Then listen closely. I’ll recite the mnemonic for you…”
Wang Sandong recited the Noble Spirit Art’s mnemonic to him and explained some of the key points.
Wang Tong’s aptitude was mediocre.
Even if he learned cultivation, his future achievements likely wouldn’t be very high.
However, it was good enough to serve as a method for strengthening his body and prolonging his life.
Remembering Yuan Di’s ‘encouragement-based education,’ Wang Sandong felt a sudden surge of inspiration and mimicked her.
“Your aptitude is actually quite good. If you practice diligently, your future will be limitless.”
Hearing this, Wang Tong bit his lip and suddenly knelt to the ground in a bow.
“I, Wang Tong, swear my life’s loyalty to you, Young Master!”
With that, his forehead hit the ground with a loud *thud, thud*.
He remembered reading in those strange novels he’d looked at during his spare time that if one received a great favor, this was how one should respond.
Wang Sandong was amused by the sight.
‘Well, is this what they call winning people over?’
He mocked himself and waved his hand.
“Alright, get up.”
Closing his eyes, Wang Sandong bathed in the sunlight, appearing to have fallen asleep.
A moment later, he suddenly added, “Live well. You don’t have to die for anyone.”
Wang Tong continued to wave the fan.
Hearing the words, he looked at Wang Sandong and was about to reply but found himself entranced.
He saw an exquisitely beautiful picture.
That goddess-like face looked as if it were asleep.
The sunlight spilled down, coating his master in a dreamlike glow.
Eyelashes fluttered occasionally, looking as if they might open at any moment.
Red lips were slightly parted, and a fragrant tongue peeked out playfully, pressing against the teeth.
Wang Tong was illiterate and uneducated.
Only three words filled his mind: ‘So beautiful!’
The Young Master was truly beautiful.
More beautiful than many women.
If only he could stay by the Young Master’s side for the rest of his life…
How wonderful that would be.
He hoped the Young Master would live for 100 years.
That he would be healthy.
That for his whole life, no one would discover he practiced Demonic Arts…
That was Wang Sandong’s wish as well.
He just wanted to live a stable, peaceful life.
He had no other extravagant hopes.
But often, ‘living a stable life’ was an extravagance in itself.
Even in this peaceful era where Demonic Cultivators had been eradicated for eighteen years.
It had only been eighteen years; the pain Demonic Cultivators had caused the world had not yet been forgotten.
Especially by the elderly.
Like Mr. Yi.
It was another early morning.
After checking Wang Sandong’s pulse, Mr. Yi took a porcelain bottle from his medicine chest, poured out a pill, and handed it to him.
“This is a new pill I refined. Give it a try, Third Young Master.”
For sixteen years, Mr. Yi had tried every possible way to condition Wang Sandong’s body, constantly refining new medicines.
Thus, Wang Sandong was long since used to testing his drugs.
Taking a cup of warm water from Wang Tong, he swallowed the pill and said, “It’s been so many years. I’ve taken so much medicine, yet my body hasn’t improved. I suppose this is just how it’ll be for the rest of my life.”
As he finished, he suddenly frowned.
*Hiss…*
“Sir, today’s medicine…”
He covered his lower abdomen with one hand.
“It’s so cold.”
As he spoke, he felt an inexplicable, eerie chill wash over his whole body.
Mr. Yi did not respond but began packing his medicine chest.
“Whew…”
Wang Sandong exhaled, slumped weakly onto the table.
“It’s so cold…”
“Young Master!”
Wang Tong was startled and rushed over.
Seeing Wang Sandong shivering uncontrollably, he looked at Mr. Yi in a panic.
“Mr. Yi, what’s happening?”
Mr. Yi looked at Wang Sandong and sighed softly, a look of pain appearing on his face.
“Third Young Master, I am sorry.”
Hearing this, Wang Sandong struggled to look at him in surprise.
“Sir… why?”
Had he discovered the Demonic Arts?
He was full of shock; he clearly hadn’t expected Mr. Yi to turn on him.
“Alas…”
Mr. Yi let out a long sigh, and old tears actually began to stream down his face.
“Third Young Master, the human world is too bitter. Next time… don’t come back.”
With that, he picked up his medicine chest with trembling hands and turned to leave.
Wang Tong lunged forward, his knees slamming hard against the blue bricks as he grabbed the hem of Mr. Yi’s trousers.
His voice shook as he babbled incoherently, “Mr. Yi! Don’t go! Save the Young Master! Don’t kill him! Young Master… Mr. Yi!”
Mr. Yi looked up at the empty sky outside the door.
Muddy tears rolled down his cheeks, and his voice was hoarse and desperate.
“Child, sometimes, a quick death is better… than a painful life.”
Wang Sandong gritted his teeth and forced himself to sit up against the back of the chair.
He stared at Mr. Yi’s back and said, “I’m not afraid of death! I just want to know why!”
As he spoke, Demonic Qi seeped from under his fingernails, quickly turning them black.
On his face and body, a faint black shadow overlapped with his own, flickering in and out of existence.
Many questions didn’t actually need words.
A dead person could keep all secrets and answer all questions.
“My dear child, the pill you swallowed is called ‘Dispelling Yang.’ It kills one’s Yang energy and is ultimately fatal.”
Mr. Yi didn’t turn around, speaking through sobs.
“It will only be a bit cold. Endure it for a while; there won’t be any other pain.”
“Dispelling Yang… I’ve read some medical texts. This pill… it seems it can only kill men,” Wang Sandong replied.
Mr. Yi frowned.
He could tell the youth meant something deeper.
Just as he was about to ask, his body suddenly stiffened.
It felt as if something had pierced through his back.
Mr. Yi opened his mouth but couldn’t utter another word.
His body went limp, and he collapsed backward.
A black shadow quickly left his back and returned to Wang Sandong.
Like an addict, Wang Sandong closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Wang Tong crawled back two steps in terror, staring at Mr. Yi’s corpse on the floor and then at Wang Sandong, who sat slumped in the chair, looking exhausted.
“Young… Young Master…”
Wang Sandong did not respond or move.
After a long time, he let out a slow sigh.
He opened his eyes and looked at Mr. Yi’s body, his own eyes growing moist.
So…
That was it.
Wang Sandong gestured for Wang Tong to come over and help him rise.
As he stood by Mr. Yi’s body, his eyes reddened and tears fell.
“Mr. Yi, thank you.”
With that, he knelt and bowed.
‘Mr. Yi. You were right. Sometimes, a quick death is better than a painful life. But there is one thing you were wrong about. I! Do not want to die!’