Chapter 267: Farewell

Chapter 267 Farewell

Even while being carried to the bath and placed on the wooden platform, Xiao Wu remained dazed.

Ever since his meridians were severed, Xie Shu had arranged for hot springs to be channeled inside. Since Xiao Wu lacked the strength to stand, Xie Shu had ordered a raised wooden platform built for easier washing.

Thus, Lord Pingwu was placed upon this platform, just inches above the water's surface.

Xie Shu cradled the back of his head, fingers sliding through his hair to touch his scalp. Unaccustomed to such intimate contact, Xiao Wu flinched away instinctively at the tickling along his neck. "I can do it myself."

He had intended to provoke Xie Chunshan—so why was he the one feeling uneasy now?

Xie Shu pulled his head back firmly. "You're too unsteady to stand. You'd slip into the water. Allow me."

His tone was gentle, but his actions left no room for refusal.

Xiao Wu: "..."

Swallowing his discomfort, he closed his eyes and fell silent.

With that, Xie Shu began washing his hair, scooping warm water and pouring it along his hairline. Soon, the long strands were thoroughly soaked, spreading like satin in the water. Xie Shu didn’t shy away from the dirty ends, meticulously cleaning them with bathing beans. The chamber was heavy with steam, the only sounds being the trickling of the hot spring and the soft breathing of Xiao Wu and Xie Chunshan.

"..."

With gentle fingers, he parted the damp locks, smoothing out every tangle.

If feeding me was just a whim, washing hair and cleaning filth were servants' work. Xie Chunshan, with his noble status—why would Lord Wuwang lower himself to such labor? What could this ruined body possibly offer that was worth such condescension?

When Xie Shu’s thumb grazed his temple again while combing through his hair, Xiao Wu couldn’t hold back. "What do you really want?"

"Hmm?" Xie Shu paused, then chuckled lightly. "I only want the Immortal Lord to recover quickly."

Xiao Wu lowered his gaze and turned his head away, silent.

*Liar.*

If he truly wanted him to recover, why sever his meridians?

From the moment Xie Chunshan’s fingers touched his scalp, Xiao Wu’s skin had crawled with unease. With his nape in Xie Chunshan’s grip, the Lord of Wuwang could end his life instantly. Xiao Wu wasn’t afraid of death, but vigilance was instinctive. The Immortal Lord clenched his jaw, mocking himself—*Lying back like this, I truly embody ‘like a fish on a chopping block.’*

Yet this "butcher’s" movements were inexplicably tender, carefully supporting his head the entire time, even asking casually, "Immortal Lord, what scent of bathing beans do you prefer?"

As usual, Xiao Wu didn’t answer.

Xie Shu, however, seemed in high spirits, like a child engrossed in trying different accessories—selecting the perfect sachet. His fingers glided over a row of bathing beans.

"This one is called ‘Treading Snow in Search of Plum Blossoms,’ made from February plum blossoms—its fragrance is deep and lofty, like winter blooms defying the cold. This one, ‘Orchids by the Shore,’ is brewed from early spring orchids, evoking the lingering elegance of riverside flowers. And this, ‘Distant Temple Bell,’ is crafted from sandalwood and cedar, solemn and rich. All suit the Immortal Lord well. Do you have a preference?"

His choices—plum blossoms, orchids, descriptions of resilience and lingering grace—were laden with flattery. Xiao Wu frowned in irritation. "This invalid is unworthy of such praise. Do as you please."

Xie Shu paused, then replied softly, "You are worthy."

He fetched a hair towel, helping Xiao Wu sit up slightly. The plush fabric enveloped his damp hair as Xie Shu’s fingers gently dried it through the cloth. "The Immortal Lord need not despair. Your cultivation... can still return."

Xiao Wu couldn’t even muster a mocking laugh.

A nameless fury rose in his chest—*Return how?* Crippled to the point of needing help to wash his hair, too weak to lift a spoon—how could it return?

But before the anger could fully ignite, it cooled into dead ashes. Arguing was pointless. Winning or losing changed nothing—he was still trapped in this palace, a plaything for Xie Chunshan’s amusement. He couldn’t muster the will to speak another word.

Xie Shu: "Don’t you believe me, Immortal Lord?"

He had already finished drying the hair and was now untying Xiao Wu's outer robe. Taking a large towel, he soaked it in warm water and began wiping Xiao Wu's body.

Lord Pingwu had likely never bared his chest before others. His skin was pale with a sun-deprived complexion, and as Xie Shu gently wiped over it, gooseflesh immediately appeared.

Though lean, the body had well-defined and graceful muscle lines. Countless scars covered the skin, mostly on the back, with some faint red marks on the chest like the fine cracks in porcelain. Xie Shu lowered his gaze, observing them as he wiped each one with the towel.

Under the deeply unsettling feeling, Xiao Wu curled his limbs inward. Desperate to say something, he rasped out self-mockingly, "Why should I believe you?"

Xie Shu: "I previously gave you a cultivation technique. You might try it again—it could restore your severed meridians."

At these words, Xiao Wu remembered. When the Pharmacist first sought him out, it was precisely to have him practice that technique.

In an instant, everything connected like beads on a string. Xie Chunshan's change of identity, his forcing the severing of Xiao Wu's meridians, followed by such meticulous care—all stemmed from that technique.

Wordless disbelief and grief welled up, transforming into hysterical laughter. Xiao Wu suddenly realized—was this ruined body still of some use? What was this technique Xie Chunshan wanted him to practice? What purpose did it serve? Was it truly worth Lord Wuwang going to such extreme measures, staging this elaborate charade with him?

Xiao Wu said, "I refuse to practice it."

Xie Shu paused briefly: "...You're severely injured. Without practicing, the severed meridians cannot reconnect."

Xiao Wu: "No."

Xie Shu: "In your current state, if you don’t restore your qi flow, you likely won’t survive next winter."

Xiao Wu turned his head away and did not respond.

He had made up his mind—no matter what methods Xie Chunshan used, whether threats or incentives, or even throwing him back into the Water Prison for torture, he would never touch that technique again.

But then he heard Xie Chunshan sigh.

Xie Shu gathered up the now clean, freshly cleansed Xiao Wu, scented with orchid bath beans, and placed him back on the bed, tucking him once more into the soft blankets. Softly, he said, "But if you recover your cultivation, you could accomplish many things. For example... kill Xie Chunshan."

Xiao Wu's eyes snapped open.

Though he couldn’t see, he still accurately turned toward Xie Shu’s direction, his tone barely containing his shock: "What?"

Xie Shu repeated: "If you recover your cultivation, you could kill Xie Chunshan."

His tone was calm and gentle, as if discussing a complete stranger.

Xiao Wu was speechless.

Xie Shu freed a hand to carefully tuck the blankets around Xiao Wu: "I’ve heard about it—Xie Chunshan threw Song Xiaoyu off the cliff. You must hate him deeply, no? Practice the technique, recover your cultivation, and you can kill Xie Chunshan for revenge. Then build a memorial for that poor child, so he won’t remain a restless spirit at the valley's bottom with no one to honor him. Isn’t that right?"

In the original text, the first thing Xiao Wu did after recovering his cultivation was leave the palace to search for Song Xiaoyu’s body. Unfortunately, the mountains were teeming with beasts, and not even fragments remained. He could only erect a memorial at the valley's base, offering incense to fulfill his longing.

As for killing Xie Chunshan, reforming the demonic sects, and secluding himself in Zhongnan Mountain—those came later.

Thus, faced with Xiao Wu’s apathetic resignation, Xie Shu found himself asking: "Don’t you want Xie Chunshan dead?"

"..."

Xiao Wu gripped a handful of blanket, his lips trembling slightly with a confusion beyond words.

Did he truly want Xie Chunshan dead?

He... ought to kill Xie Chunshan.

Xie Shu pried open his tightly clenched hand, examined the palm to ensure no cuts, then placed it back, coaxing, "Once the Immortal Lord masters the Art, you can take revenge on Xie Chunshan—whether by piercing his heart with a single strike or prolonging his suffering, it will all be up to you."

Xiao Wu couldn't tell if Xie Chunshan had gone mad or foolish. Stunned into silence, his face stiffened as he said stiffly, "Is that so?"

Xie Shu: "Indeed. If the Immortal Lord is afraid due to past internal injuries, I can help you channel your Mana."

"..."

Afraid.

Having cultivated for over twenty years, Xiao Wu had endured countless major and minor wounds, yet this was the first time someone worried he might be "afraid."

Xiao Wu's face remained blank.

As he spoke, Xie Shu truly reached out, pulling Xiao Wu up and pressing a palm against his back.

In immortal sects, disciples who struggled with Mana circulation were often guided by their masters until they could perform it independently. But this was a practice reserved for mentors and disciples, elders and juniors—or cultivation partners.

They were neither.

Before Xiao Wu could protest, a chilling energy surged through his meridians—a demonic Art. Fortunately, the identity of "Pharmacist" was already that of a demonic cultivator, so Xie Shu had no fear of exposure. He had long mastered the Art under the Mad Pharmacist's guidance, and now he meticulously traced the path of Mana flow along the severed meridians.

Xiao Wu felt the icy hand against his spine, the alien Mana invading him, reaching depths never before touched—as if his very vitals were exposed. In this state, Xie Chunshan could easily collapse his body beyond repair with the slightest manipulation.

Yet the Mana circled his dantian with disciplined restraint, one cycle after another. After seven or eight rounds, Xiao Wu's voice trembled, "Enough!"

Even with Xie Chunshan's cultivation, guiding another's Mana was exhausting. By the end, his breathing had grown ragged. Xiao Wu, unable to bear the intimacy that left him feeling utterly exposed, gritted his teeth and ordered him to stop.

Xie Shu retracted his Mana: "The Immortal Lord may try now. There should already be an effect."

Only then did Xiao Wu realize faint traces of Mana had indeed gathered at his severed meridians, clinging like floating weeds—tiny, but undeniably present. His damaged meridians were slowly repairing and reconnecting. At this rate, within a year, he could regain his former cultivation level as Lord Pingwu.

The Art was effective.

Had Xie Chunshan truly taught it to him? What was his intention?

Did he truly fear no retaliation? No blade through his heart?

Xiao Wu's thoughts were in turmoil, torn between bewilderment and doubt, when Xie Shu added, "Immortal Lord, practice in moderation. Thirty to forty cycles daily will suffice—do not rush. As for your body, it requires careful nurturing. I will prepare medicine daily. Should you have further questions—whether about the Art or anything else—I'm right next door. You may come find me anytime."

"..."

Even during his time in the Shangling Sect, Xiao Wu had never received such meticulous care.

Afterward, Xie Chunshan came daily without fail.

Each day, he guided Xiao Wu through several cycles of the Art until his meridians regenerated. Not a single meal was missed, every request fulfilled. Even when startled awake from nightmares, Xie Chunshan would appear from the next room, long fingers gently rubbing his back like comforting a child.

In the daze of Xie Chunshan's body heat, Xiao Wu couldn't help but wonder—*Why Xie Chunshan? Why was the one who treated him best... Xie Chunshan?*

After a month of such care, Xiao Wu regained the ability to gather Mana.

Soon after, his eyes would regain his vision.

With this, Xiao Wu's period of meridian reconnection came to a close. The "Pharmacist" act came to an end, and Xie Chunshan's true story would begin.

Xie Shu thought it time to take his leave from Xiao Wu—as the "Pharmacist."