He Understood the Meaning of This Trial, but What Was the Price?

After saying goodbye to the doctor, Qin Wangchuan pushed open the door to the inner room.

The master lay on the bed, his face as white as paper, coughing incessantly, one cough after another, heart-wrenching, as if he were coughing up his internal organs.

The Gathering Spirit Talisman under the flowerpot is still there, and the Spiritual Qi is flowing upwards along the roots, but it's useless.

But the Master's health was beyond what these things could solve.

"The Wangchuan..." The Master opened his eyes, his voice drifting from afar, as light as the wind, "You've arrived."

"Yes, I'm here." Qin Wangchuan sat down on the edge of the bed.

The teacher coughed for a while, bent over, his shoulders trembling, and it took him a long time to calm down.

Qin Wangchuan looked at him, feeling a pang of unease.

Why didn't it work?

They even brought talismans.

But in the end, the worst-case scenario still came.

What exactly went wrong?

What other options are there?

Just then, the Master's large hand suddenly grabbed Qin Wangchuan's wrist, his withered fingers gripping it tightly, though not with great force.

"Wangchuan, I have something to tell you, remember it."

Qin Wangchuan didn't move, letting him hold it.

"That girl from the Wen Household is very good," the teacher said, catching his breath. "Although she can be sharp-tongued, her eyes always sparkle when she looks at you." He paused again, "And also, you must be careful when you're forging iron in the future, be careful of fire."

"Don't take it lightly. I saw a big fire in the next town before, it was all because of a tiny spark..."

He said a whole string of things, as if he wanted to say all the things he had never had a chance to tell anyone in his life.

After finishing talking about Qin Wangchuan, he paused and then turned to the children.

My gaze passed through the window and looked out into the courtyard.

A few faint whispers of children could be heard coming from outside the courtyard.

A childish voice asked, "When will the teacher be better?"

There was no response.

"Those children..." The teacher's voice trailed off, his words cut short by a cough.

He coughed for a while before recovering, and then, still panting, continued, "What a pity..."

"If I had known it would turn out like this, I should have let them study less and taught them more about how to be a good person."

"Only studying will cost you dearly in the future..."

Qin Wangchuan lowered his brows, remained silent, and listened quietly.

To be honest, even after losing to Chu Wujiu and his ilk, he still felt he had plenty of strength left to offer.

But at this moment, he really tried every possible method.

If I had been more proficient in Talisman Art, if I had learned alchemy, if...

Before the thought could even finish, the Master suddenly coughed violently, spitting out a mouthful of blood that splattered onto the quilt—a shocking, brownish-red stain.

An uproar erupted outside, with people shouting, "Doctor! Doctor!"

Several people rushed in and jostled Qin Wangchuan aside.

The doctor rushed in with his medicine kit, pounced on the bedside, opened the doctor's eyelids, took his pulse, and his face was as dark as the bottom of a pot.

Standing in the crowd, Qin Wangchuan watched the doctor's hurried and flustered appearance, and a sense of powerlessness welled up in his heart.

It's like standing on the shore watching someone drown; you reach out, but you can't reach them.

Thinking about it, he lowered his eyes and murmured something.

"This is... a mortal."

From that moment on, Qin Wangchuan understood the significance of this trial.

Humans are fragile.

The prelude of parting allows him to see all living beings from a different perspective and realize the preciousness of those around him.

But...

What will be the price?

The Master's body grew increasingly thin.

That night, Zhou Heng went to keep watch for the Master, while Qin Wangchuan continued to peruse medical books by the stone table, with an oil lamp, a stack of paper, a few pens, and ink that had been ground several times.

He flipped to the last page of the medical book in his hand, then flipped back again, over and over again.

There's nothing we can do.

Frustrated, he threw the book on the table, turned his head, and looked at the lamp on the wall.

The lamplight flickered in the night breeze, then stabilized.

The shadow of the Jujube Tree fell on the wall, motionless, like a watercolor painting that hadn't quite dried.

"Is there really no other way?" Qin Wangchuan said in a low voice, "I just want to cure the illness so that Master can leave peacefully... Is that not even possible?"

No one answered.

The wind stopped, the jujube leaves fell silent, and even the chirping of insects at the base of the wall ceased.

The entire courtyard felt suffocating, as if something had covered it up.

After a while, the door opened.

White Dew walked in, shook off the dust, walked up to Qin Wangchuan, and looked up at him.

"Gentlemen."

"The tiger has been found."

"Tiger?"

Qin Wangchuan paused for a moment, then rubbed his temples.

These past few days, my mind has been filled with prescriptions and herbs, and everything else has been pushed aside.

"Oh, right, we ate Eldest Brother Jiang's son's tiger."

He suddenly remembered that the tiger wasn't just an enemy; it was also medicine.

Tiger bones strengthen muscles and bones, and tiger blood replenishes Qi and Blood. The medicinal properties of a tiger that is almost a spirit are at least ten times that of an ordinary tiger.

If we can bring it back... there might still be a chance for the Master's health!

This thought came to mind.

Qin Wangchuan turned and went inside, putting on an outer robe and fastening his belt. He glanced back at White Dew and said, "Lead the way."

White Dew did not move.

It had never seen Qin Wangchuan make a move, so it naturally didn't know how strong he was.

After hesitating for a moment, he finally spoke:

"Sir, that tiger has also become a spirit, just like me. It can talk, so it might be difficult to deal with."

The Original Intention was to persuade Qin Wangchuan to call more people, at least to bring Zhou Heng along, or to find someone from the martial arts school.

In case anything happens, it will be good to have someone to rely on.

Qin Wangchuan had already reached the door, without turning his head. "Too many people will get in the way."

White Dew did not continue to persuade him.

It quickly stepped forward to lead the way, silently thinking, 'Sir, you have shown me some kindness; if anything were to happen to you, I would protect you.'

--

Beside Tiger-Eye Mountain, Galloping Horse Lake.

The moonlight fell on the water's surface, shattering into pieces of white.

A tiger lay on the bank, head down, drinking water. Its Adam's apple bobbed as water rippled from its mouth and disappeared into the night.

It raised its head, licked the water droplets from the corner of its mouth, and looked towards the direction of Willow Creek Town in the distance.

"Having practiced for so long without making progress, if one wishes to attain human form, one must rely on human intervention."

The tiger muttered to itself, recalling the taste of eating people in the past.

The old man's meat was tough, the young man's was tender, and the child's was the most delicious—but that was all a long time ago.

It licked its lips, and its Adam's apple bobbed.

This time when we come down the mountain, we must eat our fill.

After we finish eating, we'll move to another place and continue eating.

The thought of this ignited a greedy glint in his eyes.

It stood up, shook its fur, and the scar on its left eye was particularly glaring in the moonlight.

Tiger's eyes slowly turned towards Willow Creek Town.

Most of the lights there had already gone out, leaving only a few scattered ones.

It's a perfect hunting ground.