Chapter 11

"I'm not flustered. Speak."

Yue Wuhuan's composure far surpassed that of a novice. He navigated through the room, strewn with flesh and blood, set down dinner, then frowned slightly and reached out to wipe a speck from Song Qingshi’s lips. Lately, he had grown accustomed to dining with the Master, finding that the clean, refreshing aura around him significantly improved his appetite.

Song Qingshi observed him for a long while. Seeing no signs of distress, he quietly returned the basin, confirming his belief that Yue Wuhuan was a natural for medicine: intelligent, rational, calm, dexterous, and unafraid of blood. He possessed all the qualities of an excellent surgeon. If they were on Earth, medical professors would be fighting over him as a doctoral candidate.

He launched into an impromptu lecture on anatomical theory, emphasizing the importance of dissection in medicine and the invaluable contributions of cadavers to humanity.

Yue Wuhuan studied diligently, even volunteering to examine the forms of the corpses and their internal organs.

He found Song Qingshi’s concern almost amusing. Among the guests at Golden Phoenix Manor, there were often cultivators with sadistic tendencies who would occasionally bring out slaves beaten to death. He himself had died and revived countless times at their hands, left battered and bruised. If not for the extraordinary regenerative power of his wood-aligned physique, he would have found release long ago.

What were corpses but mere lumps of flesh?

Since his first night of submission, the only thing he truly feared was the living.

Yue Wuhuan meticulously examined each corpse, lost in contemplation, until he suddenly froze. His gaze locked onto a tall male corpse in the corner, and unwelcome memories flooded his mind. After a brief moment of panic, a realization dawned, and his beautiful eyes filled with a chilling malice, a faint smirk slowly curving his lips.

Slowly, he turned, composed his expression, and gently requested, "Master, may I attempt to dissect this corpse?"

Song Qingshi, who was enjoying the loving dinner prepared by his little angel, looked up in surprise at the request.

After a moment's thought, he reasoned that this was not a medical school from his original world; there were no such strict rules here. Since Yue Wuhuan showed such eagerness to learn, he ought to support him.

So, he retrieved a new hooded gown for Yue Wuhuan, instructed him to wash and disinfect his hands, and provided him with a mask and gloves.

Yue Wuhuan nervously fumbled with the gloves, puzzled. "Why wear these?"

"To prevent bacterial infection," Song Qingshi explained. "There's no formaldehyde here, nor completely reliable sterilizing fluid. The corpses are preserved using spirit stone arrays, and many have unclear causes of death—some are even quite filthy when they're brought in. I don't trust it. You must develop the habit of sterilizing before and after any experiments or dissections."

This was a medical student's healthy obsession with cleanliness. He simply couldn't believe that purification spells could thoroughly eliminate bacteria; only disinfection brought him peace of mind.

Yue Wuhuan glanced at the nearby corpse and relaxed, chuckling, "It is quite dirty."

Once Yue Wuhuan was fully prepped, Song Qingshi handed him a scalpel and explained, "This corpse was a gift from An Long. An Long is the Xilin Gu King, a formidable physician and entomologist. He's a good man, and we often exchange resources. A few days ago, he sent this corpse with a challenge, saying the cause of death was intriguing and asking me to figure it out."

An Long was the original body's only close friend. The two had frequently corresponded, exchanging professional knowledge, though for some reason, their communication had ceased in recent years.

While organizing the original's belongings, Song Qingshi reread those letters and was once again deeply impressed by An Long's expertise. He then proactively wrote a letter, using modern medical methods to solve a long-standing problem of fungal infestation that had plagued An Long for years. Overjoyed, An Long sent numerous gifts in return—including several corpses with various causes of death, catering to the original's preferences—and mentioned he would personally visit soon to express his gratitude.

Song Qingshi was delighted with the gift and warmly welcomed this entomology expert.

Yue Wuhuan smiled as he took the scalpel, then brought it down with decisive force, unhesitatingly cutting open the corpse's chest cavity.

"Slow down! Slow down!" Song Qingshi exclaimed, startled, quickly intervening and instructing, "You must observe the muscle and tissue structure before cutting. Pay attention to the direction of blood vessels and meridians; slice layer by layer. That cut was too deep; you almost hit the bone! And the organs! Be careful with the organs!"

"Yes," Yue Wuhuan replied, gazing at the motionless heart beneath his blade, his smile widening with delight. He then asked Song Qingshi, "Master, do you know the identity of this corpse?"

Song Qingshi thought for a moment: "I think he was some righteous hero… Yu something…"

"Everyone said Hero Yu Qing was upright and honorable, a true gentleman. Yet he ended up with no one to claim his body," Yue Wuhuan murmured, his voice laced with unspeakable sarcasm. "How truly lamentable."

"Too many people die in the cultivation world; unclaimed bodies are everywhere. No matter one's status in life, death makes everyone equal." Song Qingshi, intently focused on his technique and oblivious to the bitterness in Yue Wuhuan's tone, suddenly cried out, "Careful! You nicked the heart!"

Yue Wuhuan lifted his eyes slightly, feigning surprise, "So it's not black after all?"

He continued to slice, cut after cut, dismembering the repulsive body and its organs into countless pieces, like a torturer. He was ecstatic, just as that man had once done to him.

Back then, he had just arrived at Golden Phoenix Manor. As Jin Feiren's personal possession, he was naive and ignorant of his true status, still harboring a foolish hope that some kind soul might rescue him from hell.

The Golden Phoenix Manor hosted a banquet for the Immortal Masters of the Qinghong Sect, where they exchanged insights on sword techniques. The Qinghong Sect was a renowned righteous sect in the immortal realm, known for its strong sense of justice. Yu Qing was a highly regarded prodigy among the younger generation, exuding an aura of righteousness. He seemed impervious to beauty, not even glancing at the serving women, and appeared to have no interest in carnal pleasures or any sordid affairs.

Yue Wuhuan thought he might be a good person and, mustering his courage, attempted to seek help.

Yu Qing watched him for a long time but said nothing.

Yue Wuhuan knew his hopes were slim and dared not press further.

Yet, he never imagined that Yu Qing would force himself upon him.

"At the banquet, I thought your eyes were truly beautiful, naturally alluring."

Though Yu Qing did not possess the Divine Sense Bead to control the Pleasure Seal, Yue Wuhuan was powerless against a Golden Core cultivator. He was quickly bound tightly by a magical artifact, left completely at the mercy of his tormentor.

...

The next morning, he was finally released from that hell, only to be discovered, leading to a confrontation before Jin Feiren and the Immortal Masters of the Qinghong Sect.

Bruised and battered, he knelt before them all.

Yu Qing was a valued disciple of the Qinghong Sect, with an impeccable reputation. His violation of the Manor Lord's personal property was utterly inexcusable.

The Qinghong Sect, mortified, repeatedly apologized to Jin Feiren, promising severe punishment for Yu Qing. The scene was incredibly awkward.

Jin Feiren magnanimously smiled, smoothing over the situation: "It was my little slave who couldn't endure loneliness. What fault lies with Hero Yu?"

Yue Wuhuan froze, about to protest, when Jin Feiren gave him a warning glance. A subtle movement of his hand within his sleeve activated the Pleasure Seal on Yue Wuhuan's back. Despite his struggle and resistance, his mouth began to utter a string of degrading words:

"This slave was restless, seduced by Immortal Master Yu's imposing presence..."

"This slave is unharmed, merely a little weak in the legs..."

"This slave was wrong. Please punish this lowly one properly, Master..."

...

Though he was the victim, he was forced to confess to sins he didn't commit. The matter was resolved to everyone's satisfaction.

During the banquet, both host and guests were pleased. Jin Feiren, seeing Yu Qing's interest, gifted Yue Wuhuan—along with the Divine Sense Bead—to Yu Qing for several days of "entertainment," exposing him to the righteous hero's various twisted desires.

He was severely wounded but never cried out in pain or begged for mercy again.

For he had finally understood his identity as a slave, abandoning all false hopes.

...

"The cause of death is in the brain. Insects devoured most of it," Yue Wuhuan concluded softly after sawing open the corpse's skull, his voice oozing feigned pity. "He must have died in agony… how tragic." He was grateful the mask concealed his grin and malice; otherwise, his expression would have been demonically grotesque.

Song Qingshi seriously examined the corpse and nodded, "Indeed, this manner of death is quite gruesome. A pity."

Yue Wuhuan smiled, "Yes… a pity."

He stared at the scalpel in his hand, the lingering joy slowly fading, replaced by waves of regret.

If only he could have dissected him alive, how much better would that have been?

Author’s Note: Song Xueba is completely convinced: "My little angel's hands are so steady—he'll definitely make a great doctor!"