Chapter 81

Song Qingshi, hampered by his injuries, found immobility unbearable without a book in hand. He asked Song Jincheng for medical texts, but how could an academic slacker possibly carry study materials? Song Jincheng, instead, produced hundreds of novellas from his Mustard Seed Bag. Most of them featured naive youths embarking on adventures, winning the hearts of unparalleled beauties, acquiring powerful demon pets as loyal companions, then battling monsters, leveling up, and ultimately ascending to immortality.

He picked up *The Three Tiger-Hunting Brothers* from Song Qingshi, flipping through a few pages. He remarked that he had never read this author before, finding the style rather archaic and the plot too harsh on the protagonist, lacking a satisfying resolution. Yet, upon closer inspection, he admitted it was quite intriguing, though he had no idea where to purchase the sequel.

Song Qingshi replied, "It doesn't seem to be published yet. I'm curious about the ending too."

Song Jincheng promised to ask a familiar bookstore owner to keep an eye out for it.

After some thought, Song Qingshi concluded that sharpening the axe would not delay the chopping of firewood. His current physical state was unsuitable for strenuous activities. Reading novellas to relax his mind and regulate his emotions seemed a better course of action. He could address other matters once his injuries healed. Thus, he picked up the novella Song Jincheng had recommended and began to read with earnest concentration.

These novellas were truly captivating.

Even Song Qingshi, who considered himself a detached individual, found his blood stirred with excitement. He almost wished he could venture into a secret realm to search for the legendary resurrection lingzhi or those intriguing elixirs mentioned in the books—like the kind that, upon a mere whiff, would ignite irresistible passion, requiring carnal relations to dispel its effects. He swiftly pulled out his notebook and began analyzing the drugs, listing all known central nervous system stimulants and skin irritants. The concepts of the drugs in the novellas were fantastical: no matter the aphrodisiac, a Tranquility Pill could suppress it, or at worst, a cold bath would suffice. How could there possibly be a drug that would lead to death if one did not engage in carnal relations?

Biting his pen, he pondered the formula for such a novel poison. After a long deliberation, he felt foolish. Why was he even considering such a troublesome toxin? Old habits died hard…

Song Jincheng, disliking fasting, had gone out to buy food.

Song Qingshi found the prolonged closure of the window stifling, believing it hindered his recovery. He limped out of bed, opened the window, and reclined on the luohan couch beneath it, basking in the sunlight while snacking on fruits and reading. The weather was delightful, the sun warm. The inn’s cushions had a faint musty smell, which he barely managed to remove after several cleansing spells. The grapes were delicious, but peeling and deseeding them was too bothersome—he stopped after two.

After reading for a long time, he rubbed his aching neck. He tried to stretch but pulled his injured ribs, gasping in pain. Suddenly, he felt many strange gazes. Alert, he turned to find the windowsill crowded with birds—sparrows, larks, cuckoos… all kinds, lined up in rows, tilting their heads curiously at him.

This was unusual.

Song Qingshi checked his surroundings but found no bird feed, falling into deep thought.

Perhaps… the innkeeper liked feeding birds? So they came looking for food at this hour?

The birds suddenly scattered as a beautiful red divine bird flew in from afar. Medium-sized, with golden-red wings, a long tail, and dark golden eyes, it circled him twice before landing on his shoulder. It sang sweetly, rubbed against his cheek tenderly for a long time, then affectionately pecked his ear. Song Qingshi was delighted—he usually had little affinity with animals due to his frequent animal experiments. Cats, dogs, rabbits, mice, and parrots all disliked him, though he got along slightly better with cold-blooded creatures like lizards…

He liked this beautiful divine bird and carefully stroked its face, offering it a grape.

The divine bird’s eyes seemed to curve with mirth as it lightly pecked his lips before spreading its wings and flying away.

Song Qingshi touched his lips, lost in thought…

He had no memory of ever kissing anyone.

So… had his first kiss just been stolen by a bird?

…

At the Indestructible Peak, atop a golden throne entwined with countless red vines, the Divine Lord finally revealed a genuine smile, one never seen before: "Found you."

Over the years, he had grown increasingly disgusted by the world's impurities, rarely leaving his Wutong Platform in his true form.

Instead, he used Blood King Vines as vessels, infusing them with his Divine Sense to create numerous avatars and identities scattered across the world. These served to control or monitor unruly entities, handle unsavory matters, or deal with miscellaneous affairs unsuitable for his true self.

These avatars shared his senses, extensions of his body—no different from his true form aside from their weaker power.

The Divine Lord sensed the aura of phoenix blood. Regrettably, back then, his cultivation had been insufficient, and his array techniques immature. He had barely managed to complete the high-level, complex soul imprint formation but couldn't pinpoint its location from afar. He had to search meticulously, only sensing a relatively accurate aura within a hundred-mile radius.

To this end, he had dispatched countless birds as his eyes, frantically scouring the world. Upon spotting a suspicious target, he would send an avatar to confirm.

After much time spent tracking, he had finally found his precious gem.

He had believed that after three thousand years of waiting, he had grown accustomed to patience and could restrain the madness brought by desire. But the moment his Divine Sense—in the form of the divine phoenix—discovered that person, he realized his desires had merely been sealed beneath a thin layer of ice. A single feather's touch was enough to crack his rationality, unleashing seething madness that would destroy everything.

He needed to breathe and calm down…

From Zhao Ye's soul memories, he had long confirmed the fate of failed mission recipients and knew Song Qingshi would have his memories wiped before being reassigned another mission. He thought this wasn't so bad—Song Qingshi would forget his painful past, his shameful moments, and also forget his madness and terror, beginning afresh.

He could pretend to be normal, using gentle and restrained methods to slowly obtain everything he desired.

No coercion, no plundering, no fear…

He had devised countless plans, controlled the world, and could guide the other step by step into the honeyed snare he had laid—just like before, making him fall in love again, willingly submitting, willingly offering his heart and body, willingly enduring all desires, so they could live happily ever after.

His only concern was: Who was Song Qingshi's mission target this time?

The mere thought of Song Qingshi being devoted to someone else made him jealous enough to kill. But to ensure Song Qingshi's mission didn't fail, he would have to spare the target's life, keeping them in gilded confinement under his control before replacing them.

Every step had to be careful. He couldn't afford to fail…

The Divine Lord forcibly suppressed the madness within and controlled his Divine Sense. Considering Song Qingshi's injuries, he directed the red divine bird—formed from his Divine Sense—to fly to a secluded corner, dissolve into golden light, and reform into a silver-masked figure in black robes. This was an avatar he had placed in the Medicine King Valley, a suitable identity and status to approach the two and assess the situation.

…

Song Jincheng, laden with snacks and new novellas, hurried back to the inn in a buoyant mood. Spotting a tall, black-robed man standing at the door, he took in the simple silver mask and the cold, phoenix-like eyes beneath it. His hands trembled, dropping everything, and he nearly screamed, "Grand—"

He clapped a hand over his mouth, turned away in panic, and considered fleeing.

Why was the Medicine King Valley's Grandmaster here?! He never left the valley!

Song Jincheng's mind raced with terrifying tales of the Grandmaster…

The Medicine King Valley's Grandmaster, Mr. Yue, was said to be a several-thousand-year-old soul division elder and the valley's guardian. Austere and unsmiling, he rarely left the valley, preferring to raise white mice. Thanks to him, the valley now housed not just various mice but also special breeds, rats, goats, monkeys, and other experimental animals in vast numbers. Only after testing medicines safely on these animals would the valley's scholars and seniors conduct human trials.

Song Jincheng had met the Grandmaster twice. Once, when a shameless senior harassed a senior sister and nearly caused a scandal, the Grandmaster was incensed, meting out public corporal punishment, flogging him fifty lashes until his flesh split, shattering his cultivation base before expelling him. The second time, a group of presumptuous senior disciples attempted to refine a pill formula left by the Valley's founder, Song Qingshi, only to fail spectacularly. They complained the formula was flawed and impossible to complete, speaking disrespectfully. The Grandmaster, who never refined pills, somehow learned of this. Before everyone, he flawlessly completed the complex formula, proving its validity. Then, citing disrespect and ignorance, he gave each three lashes and confined them to the back mountains for three years of intensive study. When they emerged… their minds were befuddled, and several had gone bald, their good looks gone.

He had to stay calm…

The Medicine King Valley had thousands of apprentices and servants. Mr. Yue had only seen him from afar in crowds—he shouldn't recognize him.

Steeling himself, Song Jincheng turned calmly and began retreating quietly.

Mr. Yue spoke lazily, "Song Jincheng, halt."

"G-Grandmaster," Song Jincheng's foot froze mid-air before slowly lowering. With a tearful face, he turned to meet the Grandmaster's merciless gaze, sensing his carefully coiffed locks might be doomed. He dropped to his knees, wailing, "I was wrong! I shouldn't have skipped classes! Spare me!"

Mr. Yue gave him a disdainful look, calculated the time, and used his Divine Sense to check inside before pushing the door open and entering.

Song Jincheng scuttled after him in prostration.

Song Qingshi had just finished his book and was about to drink some water when he saw Song Jincheng entering with fawning deference alongside a masked stranger. The two seemed familiar, but the stranger was piercing him with his gaze—his dark golden eyes beautiful yet filled with pain, as if he wanted to devour him whole.

Why the pain? Why the hunger?

After a long, lethargic deliberation, a thought struck him. His considerable debt—was this…?

He straightened up and said earnestly, "I shall repay the debt."