Life Worse Than Death

Autumn wind stirred, and the fragrance of medicine permeated the air.

In Cold Mountain City's medicinal herb market, a low ancient shop of gray bricks stood in the northwest corner, its ink-black plaque hanging crookedly. Three vigorous yet archaic blood-red characters were deeply carved into its center: Precious Medicine Workshop.

Outside the entrance.

The quiet of the bluestone-paved alley was broken by a sudden set of footsteps.

The newcomer was a thin youth with a face as pale as paper. His steps were staggered and weak, his whole body swaying as though a passing gust could blow him over. One of his bluish-black hands tightly gripped a burlap sack woven from hemp rope.

"Whew..."

The youth panted heavily and stopped before the Precious Medicine Workshop. As he bent over, he set the sack at his feet. After pulling out a black handkerchief embroidered with Manjusaka, he laboriously raised his trembling arm and wiped away the thick sweat from his forehead.

He was Ye Tong!

He was the Medicine Boy of the Precious Medicine Workshop, and now its only master.

Ye Tong clenched the handkerchief and looked up at the plaque before him. A complicated light slowly surfaced in his formerly lifeless eyes. He hated this place, yet he also clung to it. This was his hell, but it was also his shelter from the storm.

"The young master has returned!"

A low, hoarse voice came from inside the Precious Medicine Workshop. A stoop-backed old man, his years nearly spent, hobbled over the threshold with a Dragon Head Cane. Judging by his appearance alone, he did not seem to have many years left to live.

"Cough, cough..."

Ye Tong withdrew his gaze. Amid several violent coughs, he discreetly wiped away the black blood spilling from the corner of his mouth with the handkerchief. He picked up the sack by his feet again, nodded, and said, "I'm back."

The stoop-backed old man asked, "Did you find the Blood Ganoderma and Withered Bone Grass?"

Ye Tong moved forward, brushing past the stoop-backed old man and leaving behind only a drifting voice. "Ninety-year wild Blood Ganoderma, and one-hundred-twenty-year Withered Bone Grass. But all the blue silver left behind by that old thing has been spent."

"Spent is spent." Upon hearing the youth's words, the wrinkles on the stoop-backed old man's face relaxed. He turned and followed behind Ye Tong, smiling with satisfaction. "With these two main ingredients, the young master can live another two months."

Ye Tong's unsteady steps did not stop, but his tone grew several degrees colder. "Medicine Slave, can you stop saying the same thing every time? I know how long I can live! Go boil the medicine. I can barely hold on any longer."

The stoop-backed old man seemed not to have heard the change in Ye Tong's tone. His old face remained smiling as he chuckled. "I'm afraid the young master cannot take a medicinal bath just yet. Guests have arrived at the shop, and they cannot be driven away."

"Hm?" Ye Tong halted and glanced at the luxurious carriage parked at the mouth of the alley ahead. Frowning, he asked, "They came seeking medicine?"

The stoop-backed old man replied, "They came seeking medicine!"

"Tell them to wait."

Ye Tong's pace quickened slightly. He passed through the arched corridor and around the spacious courtyard, seeming not to see the three figures sitting cross-legged on prayer mats within it. He headed directly down the left corridor and toward the side courtyard's archway.

Several prayer mats lay on the ground in the courtyard. The three people seated cross-legged upon them were an elderly man with silver hair, past seventy and dressed in luxurious robes; a beautiful middle-aged woman whose charm remained, clad in a pale blue long dress; and a stunning girl, like a celestial maiden fallen into the mortal world.

They watched Ye Tong walk toward the side courtyard, then watched the stoop-backed old man arrive.

"Who is he?"

The middle-aged beauty rose lightly into the air and stared at the stoop-backed old man as she asked.

The stoop-backed old man chuckled. "My young master."

The middle-aged beauty's delicate brows furrowed. Her agile figure shot forward in an instant, blocking Ye Tong's path before he entered the archway. She snorted coldly. "Since you are back, hurry and refine our medicine. Our elder's illness cannot be delayed. If you delay it, you cannot bear the consequences."

"If you won't wait, get lost." Ye Tong stopped, a cold gleam flickering in his eyes as though a vicious beast were staring at the woman before him.

Ye Tong...

Could feel his soul expanding.

He could not hold on much longer!

The middle-aged beauty froze. She looked at Ye Tong in disbelief, as if she could not believe her ears.

How many years had it been?

How many years had she gone without hearing such arrogant words? How many years had she gone without encountering someone so overbearing?

It seemed that ever since she had taken over the Zhang Family Merchant Group more than a decade ago, no one had dared speak to her with such swaggering arrogance. Yet this little brat actually dared to...

"My young master has spoken. If you will not wait, get lost."

Leaning on his Dragon Head Cane, the stoop-backed old man slowly walked to the middle-aged beauty's side. The smile had vanished from his face, replaced by frost-like indifference.

The middle-aged beauty flew into a rage. As an overbearing aura erupted from her, she shouted sternly, "We gave you face by entrusting the task of refining medicine to you. Do not refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit. Hurry and refine our medicine, or else..."

"Hmph. Or else what?"

The stoop-backed old man straightened slightly. A surging, majestic aura erupted from him. Amid rolling killing intent, his domineering presence was laid bare. "Face is earned by oneself, not given by others. Though the old master... it is not yet your turn to throw your weight around. Get lost..."

"Gasp..."

The middle-aged beauty's pupils constricted. Her body trembled as she staggered back several steps in an instant.

Never in her wildest dreams had she expected this decrepit, stoop-backed old man to unleash such a formidable aura. She felt as though she no longer faced an old man, but a savage primordial beast, an unparalleled fiend.

"Zhongying, do not be rude."

The silver-haired old man in luxurious robes gave the middle-aged beauty a low reprimand. After striding forward, his eyes carrying both wariness and apology, he cupped his hands and said, "My daughter has been discourteous. I hope you will forgive her. Since your young master is temporarily occupied, we shall wait. As an apology, we will naturally offer double the price for the medicine."

"Young master?" The stoop-backed old man turned to look at Ye Tong.

Ye Tong's body trembled faintly a few times. His face grew even paler. A sweetness rose in his throat, and blood surged forth, only to be swallowed back down. Yet a streak of blood still seeped from the corner of his mouth.

He laboriously raised his arm and wiped away the blood from his mouth. His voice squeezed through clenched teeth. "Tenfold."

Having said that.

Ye Tong laboriously lifted his feet and stepped through the side courtyard's archway. Yet his footsteps became even more unsteady, and the trembling of his body grew more obvious, as though he were an old man with one foot in the grave.

Zhang Zhongying opened her mouth, but no words came out. Although anger still hung on her face, she had sharply noticed the blood at the corner of Ye Tong's mouth in that instant.

And... the youth's current condition.

She suddenly felt that the one leaving before her did not resemble a youth at all, but rather an old man with one foot in the grave, one whose lamp was out of oil and whose life force was exhausted. She was not the only one who felt this way. Her father, Zhang Pinsou, and the stunning girl felt the same.

"Can he... do it?"

A strange light flashed in the stunning girl's eyes as she turned to look at the stoop-backed old man.

The stoop-backed old man waved a hand, cutting off the stunning girl's words. A trace of worry appeared on his wrinkled face. After hesitating for a moment, he said in a deep voice, "If you seek medicine, wait outside."

With that.

The stoop-backed old man stepped into the side courtyard's archway without hesitation.

At that moment, even the stoop-backed old man's pace became much brisker. After catching up to Ye Tong, he said in a low voice, "Young master, please wait. Let this old servant prepare your medicine today!"

"Cough, cough..."

Ye Tong stopped. After handing over the burlap sack in his hand, he once again took out the black handkerchief embroidered with Manjusaka.

A clear breeze swept past, and yellow leaves fluttered like butterflies. The bluestone ground seemed draped in golden waves. Within the side room, sandalwood incense burned, its faint fragrance gradually spreading into every corner.

The walls were pitch-black, and the small windows were tightly shut.

Inside the room, a glaring blood-red Eight Immortals table stood in the main hall. Upon it rested a half-meter-tall cauldron, entirely dark and lustrous, its sheen deep and rich. Eight lifelike coiling dragon patterns, like true spirits, had been exquisitely carved upon it, a sight that inspired wonder. Above the center of the room hung a dark-purple coffin, bringing a chilling aura to the chamber.

Beneath the Purple Coffin.

Steam curled upward from a stone barrel, mist swirling within.

The stoop-backed old man stood beside the stone barrel, looking at Ye Tong's faintly trembling body. He said softly, "Young master, the Hundred Poisons Liquid has been prepared. Please enter the barrel at once."

Ye Tong nodded slightly. He watched the stoop-backed old man leave the room and close the door from outside. Only then did he raise his trembling hands and remove his clothing piece by piece.

His muscles were streamlined, his skin fair.

However!

Upon that skin, white and smooth as congealed fat, lay scar after scar of varying lengths, crisscrossing and intertwined, a shocking sight.

"Mmgh..."

Ye Tong stepped into the stone barrel and immersed himself in the thick, dark-green liquid. Instantly, needle-like pain swept through every nerve in his body like a tidal wave, and a low roar rose from his throat.

The pain pierced his heart!

The pain sank into his marrow!

Yet Ye Tong had endured such pain hundreds, even thousands of times since childhood. He had even endured pain worse than this—the sensation of being cut to pieces, as though he had walked through hell once.

After the muffled groan, he immediately sat cross-legged in the stone barrel, guarded his mind, and silently circulated the Marrow Cleansing Poison Scripture. If not for the Marrow Cleansing Poison Scripture he cultivated over the years—the supreme art of poison veins—he would likely have died ten thousand times over. Not to mention that he had to suppress that divine soul at every moment...

Medicine was poison.

He, too, was poison.

His body needed to fight poison with poison to prolong his life.

In the main courtyard.

The stoop-backed old man slowly stepped out through the side courtyard gate. His hunched body suddenly trembled almost imperceptibly, and his spine straightened considerably in an instant. His deep gaze swept over the three in the courtyard. When it lingered deeply upon the courtyard gate, killing intent faintly surfaced.

A moment later, the Dragon Head Cane in the stoop-backed old man's hand struck the ground heavily. Without even looking at the three, he said, "I advise you three to leave at once. Otherwise, disaster will spread to the fish in the moat, and you will suffer a bloody calamity. Do not blame this old servant for failing to warn you."

Zhang Pinsou frowned and remained silent, while the stunning girl revealed a trace of surprise and turned to glance at the courtyard gate.

However.

A flicker of anger appeared on Zhang Zhongying's beautiful face. Staring directly at the stoop-backed old man, she snorted. "Once we obtain the medicine, we will naturally leave immediately. Otherwise, a few empty threats will not achieve your purpose of making us leave."

"You refuse to leave?"

The killing intent in the stoop-backed old man's eyes had not faded, but an odd smile appeared on his aged face. "Then, even if you meet, it will have nothing to do with karma involving my young master, correct? Do as you please."

Three ghostlike figures suddenly appeared soundlessly atop the courtyard wall. A voice laden with mockery surged forth like rolling waves. "The Old Dog beside Poison Demon Huo Lanqiu is quite kindhearted after all! Even the life and death of three ants can stir your pitiful compassion..."

The stoop-backed old man's gaze was sharp as torches as he fixed his eyes on the bald old man in the lead. He said coldly, "Yin Yang Old Monster... Mu Wutian!"