Crimson Blood Pill

Li Tui pushed open the main room door, and a thick, cloying scent of incense mixed with the sweet, heavy stench of blood rushed out to meet him.

The room was dimly lit, with a copper lamp flickering beside a folding screen, casting distorted shadows.

Zhao Yuanchong was half-reclined on a silk couch, his robes open, holding a half-empty wine cup. Two maidservants knelt by the couch, one kneading his legs and the other peeling grapes, their fingertips trembling.

On the floor.

Two youths were curled up on the blue bricks, motionless. One had his neck twisted at an odd angle, and the blood spilling from the corner of his mouth had already turned black and congealed. The other's chest rose and fell shallowly, his eyes wide open, staring fixedly at the ceiling beams, his throat emitting a "hissing" wheeze, each breath accompanied by bloody foam.

Li Tui stood by the door, his gaze sweeping over the scene. His face remained expressionless as he lowered his eyes and bowed. "Young Master."

"You've come at just the right time." Zhao Yuanchong lazily lifted his eyes, drained the remaining wine in his cup, and tossed the empty vessel onto the floor. The jade cup struck the bricks with a crisp "crack," and shards scattered everywhere.

He pointed a finger at the floor. "Get these two useless things out of here."

Li Tui didn't ask questions, nor did he linger on the sight. He stepped forward, crouched down, and checked them. They were fifteen or sixteen years old, dressed in coarse, short tunics, their hands and feet calloused—they were laborers from the outer courtyard. One had a broken neck and was already dead. The other had a caved-in chest with several shattered ribs; he was breathing his last, the light in his eyes rapidly fading.

He didn't touch the one still twitching, only dragged the one with the broken neck to the side.

Zhao Yuanchong stepped off the couch barefoot and strolled over to Li Tui, looking down at the youth who still had half a breath left.

"Tell me," he began suddenly, his voice filled with a childlike curiosity, "when people are about to die, does it actually hurt?"

Li Tui didn't look up. "This servant does not know."

"Why not find out?" Zhao Yuanchong laughed, lifted his foot, and lightly kicked the caved-in chest of the youth with his toe.

The wheezing in the youth's throat stopped abruptly, then turned into a sharp, shrill cry. His entire body arched before slamming back onto the floor, falling silent once more.

Dead.

Zhao Yuanchong withdrew his foot, his expression unchanged, as if he had just stepped on an insect. He turned to look at Li Tui, his gaze lingering on his face for a moment before he suddenly asked:

"Are you afraid?"

Li Tui kept his eyes lowered. "Whatever the Young Master commands, this servant will do."

"And what if I told you to die?" Zhao Yuanchong tilted his head, his youthful face full of earnestness.

"This servant's life belongs to the Zhao Mansion." Li Tui's voice was steady. "If the Young Master wants it, take it."

The words were so smooth they sounded insincere. Zhao Yuanchong stared at him for a long moment, then suddenly burst into giggles, laughing until he swayed, as if he had heard the funniest joke in the world.

"Fine, fine," he waved his hand, strolled back to the couch, and sat down. He casually pulled a palm-sized celadon bottle from his robes, uncorked it, and poured out a crimson pill. It was the size of a thumb, its surface covered in fine, dark patterns that looked like congealed blood.

"A reward for you." He tossed the pill over.

Li Tui reached out and caught it. The pill was warm to the touch and carried a spicy, sweet fragrance that made his blood stir just by smelling it.

"This is a Crimson Blood Pill," Zhao Yuanchong said, resting his chin on his hand, his eyes shining as he watched him. "A new concoction from the mansion's alchemy room. They say it invigorates the blood and boosts internal energy. I tried two, but they were boring. You have a taste."

He spoke lightly, as if sharing a snack.

Li Tui looked at the pill in his palm. It was blood-red, the patterns on it sinister; it was certainly not the quality of an ordinary energy-boosting pill. In his past life, he had seen many such "rewards"—some were poisons, some were parasites, and others were even more insidious mind-control agents.

But at this moment.

Li Tui did not hesitate and placed the pill into his mouth.

The pill dissolved instantly, and a surge of heat like molten lava exploded, violently rushing into his throat! It didn't feel like taking medicine; it felt like swallowing a lump of burning charcoal.

Wherever the heat flowed, his meridians felt as if they had been scalded by boiling water, and an intense pain accompanied by a strange, numbing sensation spread rapidly. The faint green internal energy in his dantian seemed to be ignited, surging wildly and accelerating several times over!

Li Tui let out a muffled groan, dropped to one knee, and the veins on his forehead bulged.

"Oh?" Zhao Yuanchong leaned closer, his eyes fixed on him without blinking. "Why has your face gone pale? The first two turned bright red, like boiled shrimp."

Li Tui gritted his teeth and didn't answer. He could feel that the pill was laced with a tyrannical fire poison, which was clashing violently with his wood-attribute internal energy. Every time his energy circulated, it felt like countless fine needles were scraping the inner walls of his meridians, the pain reaching deep into his marrow.

Three breaths, and his entire body was soaked in cold sweat.

Five breaths, and a trickle of dark red blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.

Ten breaths.

Li Tui opened his eyes abruptly, his vision bloodshot. He took a deep breath, suppressed the rising scent of blood in his throat, and slowly stood up straight.

The internal energy within him was still surging wildly, and the burning pain of the fire poison had not diminished in the slightest. But he stood firmly, and apart from his pallor, no other abnormality could be seen.

Zhao Yuanchong stared at him for a long time, the lively interest on his face gradually fading.

"Boring." He curled his lip and leaned back against the silk couch, his tone listless. "Always the same. The first two at least rolled around on the floor."

Li Tui lowered his eyes and wiped the blood from his mouth. "This servant is dull and has disappointed the Young Master."

"Disappointed is a strong word." Zhao Yuanchong waved his hand, his eyes still pinned on Li Tui's face. "I just think... you are a bit too uninteresting."

He paused, then suddenly laughed, though there was no warmth in it. "Fine, go dispose of these two corpses. Throw them far away; don't dirty my courtyard."

"Yes."

Li Tui said nothing more. He bent down, dragged one corpse in each hand, and turned to exit the room.

The moment the door closed behind him, the calm on his face shattered. The burning, poison-like energy was still rampaging through his body, and every breath brought a needle-like sting. He dragged the bodies, his footsteps unsteady as he headed toward the depths of the West Courtyard, each step feeling like walking on the edge of a blade.

Reaching the abandoned garden, he threw the two bodies into a shallow pit, covered them with soil, and scattered some withered grass to conceal it.

After finishing, he stood by the pit for a while. The moonlight was pale, casting a ghostly glow over the freshly turned earth.

Li Tui slowly exhaled, his breath forming a white mist in the cold night air. He looked down at his slightly trembling fingers; at this moment, besides the intense pain in his abdomen, there was a surge of nearly uncontrollable internal energy wandering through his body.

The night wind swept through the abandoned garden, rustling the dead leaves.

Li Tui remained silent, simply turning and disappearing into the deeper darkness.