Chapter 251: Testing the Medicine

Chapter 251: Trial of Medicine

Xiao Wu paused briefly before replying gently, "I appreciate the effort."

Having traveled a thousand miles from the Shangling Sect, jolted around in the prisoner's cart the entire way, his skin was covered in dust and bloodstains, caked unpleasantly on his face.

Xie Shu twisted the damp cloth and pressed lightly to Xiao Wu’s eye corner. "Immortal Lord, lift your head."

His movements were gentle.

Xiao Wu shifted uneasily, tugging at the hem of his robe.

It made him twitch.

Xie Shu lifted Xiao Wu's chin with his index finger, his gaze dark and heavy as it lowered. It was a somewhat intrusive and assessing gesture, but Xiao Wu couldn't see it. All he could feel was the soft touch of the cloth, skimming his temples, sweeping across his brows and the corners of his eyes, brushing away the dust from his lashes, and wiping the bloodstains from the curve of his lips.

"..."

Xiao Wu clenched his fingers briefly. "Young friend..."

The Shangling Sect prized reclusion and aloofness. Xiao Wu had no servants or followers and had always been a loner. Even as a child, no one had ever held his face like this, wiping away the grime for him.

Xiao Wu had joined the immortal sect as a child. He had never lived among mortals and didn’t know whether such behavior was normal among mortals.

Xie Shu said, "Don’t move."

He cleaned meticulously, as if dusting off a priceless antique. When most of the bloodstains were gone and the face beneath revealed its true colors, Xie Shu held his chin and scrutinized him.

Sparse brows, clear eyes, a tall and elegant nose—it was an unnervingly flawless face, one that belonged in a 3D modeler’s hard drive, a doll artist’s display case, or a BJD collector’s cabinet. But the residual heat on his fingers reminded Xie Shu that this was a living, breathing person.

A person who was exactly as he had imagined Xiao Wu to be.

This was the appearance he had personally chosen.

Xiao Wu asked, "...Young friend, finished?"

His discomfort made his lashes brush against Xie Shu’s palm, tickling slightly.

Xie Shu wiped away the last trace of blood. "Done."

He dropped the rag back into the food box and picked up the bowl and chopsticks beside it. "Thanks for the lesson today, Immortal Lord. I’ll return tomorrow. If there’s anything you’d like to eat, you can tell me. I’ll try to fetch it for you."

Xiao Wu replied, "I’m in no position to be choosy. Thank you, young friend."

Sensing Xie Shu was about to leave, he added, "Young friend, mind leaving the cloth?"

Xie Shu turned back. Xiao Wu smiled apologetically. "Aside from my face, my body is also covered in bloodstains. It’s a mess. I’d like to borrow your cloth to clean myself a little."

Xie Shu lowered his gaze to the "strip of cloth" in the food box.

It wasn’t really a cloth—just a strip of fabric he had torn from his inner robe.

Xie Shu nodded. "Very well."

He left both the food box and the cloth with Xiao Wu, taking only the bowl and chopsticks with him as he walked out.

Once the door closed, Xie Shu tilted his head slightly, listening to the rustle of fabric and the sound of water being wrung from the cloth inside.

He closed the door with a click.

Xue Sui was still waiting a li away.

He was dozing off from the wait and couldn’t fathom what the Palace Lord and Lord Pingwu were doing inside. If it were torture, the Palace Lord hadn’t brought any tools, and Lord Pingwu hadn’t uttered a single cry of pain. But if it wasn’t that… what else could the Palace Lord and Lord Pingwu possibly be doing together?

Surely they weren’t discussing martial arts techniques and chatting merrily, right?

As time dragged on, Xue Sui began idly tossing stones at birds to pass the time, but soon zoned out and almost fell out of the tree.

Then, from a distance, he saw the courtyard gate open, and their Palace Lord stepped out.

Xue Sui narrowed his eyes.

The Palace Lord’s pristine fox fur cloak was half undone, strewn with grass, and his inner robe was disheveled—like it had been ripped.

Even weirder, what was the Palace Lord holding in his hand?

A… bowl?

Before he could figure it out, Xie Shu had already approached him and flipped the bowl carelessly into the air. It spun a few times before landing perfectly in Xue Sui’s hands.

Xue Sui: “…?”

Xie Shu walked past him leisurely, then glanced back and said, “Keep Lord Pingwu’s place secure. Don’t let anyone disturb him.”

*He couldn’t let others discover his ruse—posing as Song Xiaoyu to learn the Art.*

Xue Sui snapped to attention and bowed. “Understood.”

For the next three or four days, the Lord of Wuwang Palace showed up at the Silent Pavilion without fail.

Xue Sui went from confusion to numbness, and eventually, he simply grew accustomed to it.

At night, Xie Shu practiced the *Wuwang Heart Sutra* as instructed by Xiao Wu. Given that this body’s cultivation had already reached perfection, he advanced with ease.

In his spare time, he also flipped through a few of the original owner’s sword manuals and medical texts, mastering most of these side techniques along the way.

During the day, he carried a food box containing porridge—sometimes with shredded chicken and mushrooms, other times with scallions and lean meat—all mild, easy-to-digest meals. Xiao Wu wasn’t picky, but Xie Shu noticed he disliked bitter lotus seed porridge, preferring sweeter flavors.

Xie Shu found it amusing, wondering when this sweet-tooth trait had been added to the game’s depiction of the ethereal and refined Immortal Lord. Still, he fed him the porridge spoonful by spoonful.

Afterward, he instructed the kitchen to stop making bitter porridge.

Xiao Wu’s teachings continued daily.

Xiao Wu was a remarkably thorough teacher—patient, meticulous, and the kind students adored. If Xie Shu didn’t understand something, Xiao Wu would explain it eight or ten times without complaint, as if he weren’t some Demon Palace lackey but a direct disciple of the Shangling Sect. At the end of each lesson, when Xie Shu took his leave, Xiao Wu would softly ask, “Xiao Yu, was I clear?”

Xie Shu lowered his gaze.

He was a businessman who prized gain over goodwill, but faced with someone like Xiao Wu, he couldn’t help but let his guard down.

A man like Xiao Wu would never harm anyone. Even in conflicts of interest, he was forthright and principled—nothing like the people Xie Shu had encountered in his past life.

Yet, Xie Shu still couldn’t bring himself to say, “You teach well. My progress is swift. I’ve already mastered the sixth level of Wuwang Palace’s supreme heart technique.”

Song Xiaoyu was an ordinary mortal. With mortal aptitude, he could never hope to touch immortality in his lifetime.

Whenever Xiao Wu asked, Xie Shu simply closed his eyes and mumbled, “Not yet. It’s too difficult. I still don’t quite get it.”

Xiao Wu sighed softly. “Take your time. We’ll revisit it tomorrow.”

Here is the improved translation incorporating the expert suggestions:

That day, Xiao Wu asked him again if he could sense mana. Xie Shu still claimed he couldn’t, but Xiao Wu didn’t let him leave. Instead, he mustered his strength and beckoned, "Come here, Xiao Yu."

Though fed daily porridge, Xiao Wu showed no signs of improvement, instead looking even more haggard. He still couldn’t lift his hands or hold a spoon, spending most days leaning against the wall, sleep claiming more hours than wakefulness.

When Xie Shu sat beside him, their body heat transferring through the fabric, Xie Shu realized he was burning up.

Xie Shu frowned. "You have a fever?"

A body with ruined meridians was barely better than a mortal's. After all, this was still a prison cell, drafty and hardly conducive to healing.

Xiao Wu dismissed it. "It’s nothing."

He brushed past the topic. "Later, I’ll circulate energy to your major acupoints. Focus carefully and see if you can sense the mana."

Xie Shu's brow furrowed further. He had read the basic cultivation manuals and knew this was a common method for Immortal Lords to initiate disciples. If a disciple couldn’t perceive mana, the master would tap their acupoints, transferring a thread of mana so the disciple could grasp its flow, making further learning easier.

But the problem was, Xiao Wu’s meridians were ruined.

Just raising a hand left him drenched in cold sweat. Forcing mana through broken meridians and transferring it to another would only worsen his condition.

Would he really go this far for some laborer he’d met by chance, someone who had only given him a few bowls of porridge?

As a merchant, Xie Shu lived by quid-pro-quo. Xiao Wu’s behavior inexplicably kindled irritation in him, and he said stiffly, "...There’s no need."

Xiao Wu sighed. "Listen now."

He spoke as if humoring a child.

With that, Xiao Wu raised his hand. Over the past days, he had often traced Xie Shu’s acupoints through the fabric and was now familiar with them. He placed his hand on Xie Shu’s shoulder blade, gathering his mana. Xie Shu seized his wrist abruptly. "No."

Remembering his disciple persona, he softened his voice. "Immortal Lord, I just..."

Before he could fabricate an excuse, Xie Shu paused.

The wrist under his fingers was clammy.

Xie Shu looked down and saw blood blooming through the white sleeve.

Xiao Wu noticed his stiffness and smiled, pulling his sleeve back to cover it. "An old wound acting up. Pay it no mind."

Xie Shu asked, "When did this happen?"

Xiao Wu replied, "On the journey here. It just never healed."

With his meridians severed, his body was weaker than an ordinary person’s. Fresh wounds layered over old, and without proper treatment, it was no wonder he had developed a fever.

Yet even so, Xiao Wu persisted, reaching again for Xie Shu's shoulder. "It’s nothing serious. Let me guide your energy first."

Xie Shu pulled away, stepping back silently. "No. At least not today."

His gaze swept over Xiao Wu’s face—his nose and earlobes flushed faintly red from the fever.

Xiao Wu said, "There’s no need to worry, my friend."

He seemed determined to proceed.

Xie Shu blocked him again and sighed softly, unusual helplessness washing over him. His voice softened. "You’re ill. You need to recover first. There’s no hurry for this." Xiao Wu was taken aback, then chuckled and shook his head. "Later may be too late."

He looked up, his hollow eyes reflecting the moon at the horizon: "I understand Xie Chunshan. I've stayed here far too long. He won't let me recuperate in peace. He'll surely resort to other means."

Xie Shu paused.

Xiao Wu had indeed predicted it correctly.

Within days, there would indeed be a confrontation with Xie Chunshan.

According to the timeline provided by 66, Xie Chunshan despised Xiao Wu and thus cut off his food and water, intending to break his pride. Yet the Abyss Water Prison failed to crush Xiao Wu's indomitable will. After Xue Sui exhausted all his methods, Xie Chunshan still hadn't heard a single plea for mercy.

Having spent so much time on a broken man, Xie Chunshan grew impatient.

He brought Xiao Wu to the main hall and summoned Wu Buke, intending to use experimental drugs.

A top-tier cultivator of the Righteous Path was naturally the perfect guinea pig for a demonic cultivator. Wu Buke had hundreds of untested new drugs, each capable of inflicting excruciating pain. At that time, Xiao Wu—already weakened from punishment—was in even worse condition than now. The details need no description; it was utterly grueling. Xie Chunshan kept him confined in the hall for a full half-month.

Lost in thought, Xie Shu silently opened the plot panel.

The main hall of Wuwang Palace was heated by underfloor stoves and lined with thick carpets, kept perpetually warm as spring—a far better place for recuperation than this Siyou Pavilion.

As for the drug trials, the type wasn't specified. Many curative drugs could also cause swelling, pain, numbness, or itching in wounds.

As for the plot, given that system's scoring standards...

Xie Shu let out a derisive laugh. *Faking it won't be difficult*, he thought.