Medicine Person

"Brother, don't..."

In the darkness, Luo Qingchen vaguely heard his younger sister's fearful, trembling voice.

He opened his eyes.

His sister was wearing a grey dress, standing small before his bed, her face covered in tears as she looked at him.

"Brother, why did you cut off my head?"

His sister asked him, sobbing.

Luo Qingchen opened his mouth, wanting to speak, but he could not utter a sound. Suddenly, his sister's head tilted and tumbled from her neck.

The headless corpse stood before the bed, fresh blood splattering onto his face.

It was scorching and stinging.

Luo Qingchen jolted awake from the dream.

The sound of his sister's weeping and her questioning still echoed clearly in his ears.

Outside the cave, it was already deep night, and all was silent.

Only the sobbing of the night wind remained, sounding like a mournful wail.

He slowly regained his senses, focusing his gaze to take in his surroundings.

Before him was a rock cave.

The ground was scattered with stone chips, dirt, withered leaves, and patches of blood that had already turned black; weeds, moss, and some light-starved mold grew in the crevices.

The rocks on the walls were of varying colors, covered in traces of weathering and peeling.

On the stone wall near the cave entrance, three bloody animal skins hung prominently, swaying gently in the night breeze.

Judging by the blood on them, these three skins had clearly been peeled off not long ago.

Deep within the cave, firelight flickered, dim and bright by turns.

A nauseating, pungent odor drifted over along with gusts of smoke.

Further inside, there were several other caves, vast and deep, connected to one another to form a dark and eerie cavern system.

This cavern system was located in the Black Prison Mountain Range, beneath the peak where the Demon Controlling Sect resided.

The Demon Controlling Sect was a renowned—or rather, notorious—cultivation sect in the Yu Kingdom. The entire sect cultivated using blood, and its disciples were dubbed "blood cultivators" or "demonic cultivators," with the sect itself considered the most evil and terrifying demonic sect in the Yu Kingdom.

His current status was that of a "medicine human" for the Demon Controlling Sect.

It was said that every cultivation technique of the Demon Controlling Sect, and even their arts of alchemy and artifact refining, required blood as a supplement.

Therefore, throughout the Demon Controlling Sect, whether they were sect elders or inner and outer disciples, everyone kept their own medicine humans.

Medicine humans usually had to provide blood, and sometimes, they had to provide flesh, or even their entire bodies.

In more extreme cases, they might even have to provide their souls.

As long as the other party required it, the medicine human had to give everything.

Luo Qingchen had become a medicine human six days ago.

On that night, Demonic Beasts ran rampant, and the entire Clear Water Town was engulfed in fire and carnage; everywhere there were screams, running, and the sounds of desperate weeping.

Dead bodies piled up in the streets and alleys.

His family had also lain in a pool of blood that night, closing their eyes forever.

The people from the Demon Controlling Sect had been the first to arrive.

Thus, he was brought here to become the medicine human for a disciple of the Demon Controlling Sect.

Perhaps because he had seen too many dead people that night, at this moment, looking at the three bloody animal skins hanging on the wall at the cave entrance, his heart was surprisingly calm.

Perhaps soon, I will be hanging there too.

He thought to himself.

Just then, footsteps suddenly came from deep within the cave, walking toward him.

The withered branches and stone chips on the ground made faint "crunching" sounds, which were exceptionally clear in the silent night.

He held his breath and stared intently.

The dim light revealed a sturdy figure. Before the contours of his face were clear, his voice had already arrived: "Junior Brother Luo, are you awake?"

Zhang Dashan walked out from the darkness, reeking of blood. He came to the corner beside him and sat down, letting out a long breath before saying, "I'm exhausted. It was my first time helping Master dispose of a corpse, but luckily I didn't make any mistakes."

Luo Qingchen looked at the sturdy young man before him and said nothing.

Zhang Dashan examined his complexion and asked, "What's wrong? Haven't you recovered yet?"

Luo Qingchen froze at these words. Suddenly remembering something, he lowered his head and looked at the wrist of his right hand.

A scar had appeared there.

Six days ago, on the first night he arrived here, that Demon Controlling Sect disciple whom he called "Master" had used a dagger to slit his wrist and drained a large bowl of blood to use for his cultivation.

"Junior Brother Luo, your body still isn't holding up."

Zhang Dashan rolled up his sleeves and extended his right wrist, where three scars were prominently displayed, one of them quite fresh.

"Look at me, I've had more cuts than you. Eat more meat, and you'll naturally recover."

As he spoke, he pulled a piece of dried meat from his tunic and handed it over with a gentle smile.

"Many thanks, Senior Brother."

Luo Qingchen did not decline; he took the meat and began to gnaw on it.

His stomach was indeed hungry, as if it had been empty for a long time.

This piece of meat, which had no flavor and was of unknown origin, tasted surprisingly sweet and fragrant as he chewed.

Zhang Dashan stared at him for a few moments before suddenly asking, "Junior Brother Luo, is it true that you killed your own sister and cut off her head, which is why Master took a liking to you and brought you here?"

Luo Qingchen paused at the question, but he did not answer, continuing to chew the meat in silence.

Zhang Dashan chuckled and patted his shoulder. "I was just asking. Those of us at the bottom, born like cattle and horses, sometimes have to be ruthless to survive. I understand you."

He then let out a long sigh. "If there were any other choice, who would want to come here and be a medicine slave? While alive, our bodies aren't our own; our blood, flesh, and bones are used whenever they please, and we are slaughtered at their whim. Even in death, our corpses cannot rest in peace—either we are dismembered to refine medicine, or we are turned into corpse puppets to serve them. How tragic!"

Luo Qingchen remained silent for a moment before asking, "Isn't it said that medicine slaves can also become disciples and enter the sect to cultivate?"

Zhang Dashan gave a bitter laugh. "Junior Brother Luo, are you holding onto that hope as well?"

He shook his head and continued, "I don't mean to discourage you, but while it is true that medicine slaves can become disciples—and can even obtain cultivation techniques without being disciples—succeeding is not so easy. Out of a hundred medicine slaves, I fear only one or two manage to succeed, if any at all."

"Is it that difficult?"

Luo Qingchen frowned slightly.

Zhang Dashan sighed again. "It is indeed difficult. Think about it: as medicine slaves, we must provide blood for Master to cultivate every few days. Even with meat and medicinal supplements, our bodies can hardly withstand it. To cultivate, one needs a strong body. More importantly, the cultivation techniques of our Demon Controlling Sect all require the consumption of blood. Do you think we commoners have that much blood to spare? Without enough blood and with a weakened body, the techniques are useless. How can one cultivate?"

Luo Qingchen looked at the wound on his right wrist and remained silent.

"Of course, if your talent for cultivation is exceptional, or if you have a great deal of wealth to purchase blood-replenishing pills and food, or if you are very lucky and encounter a senior willing to help, there is still a chance."

Zhang Dashan seemed afraid that his words had extinguished the hope in Luo Qingchen's heart, so he added this final remark.

As the two were talking, a cold voice suddenly drifted from the depths of the cave: "Junior Brother Luo, come in. Master is calling for you."

Luo Qingchen's heart skipped a beat, and he stood up to head inside.

Deep within the cavern, a fire was burning.

The dim, yellowish light illuminated the darkness, casting two uneven shadows against the wall.

The Second Senior Brother, Yang Ming, was small and thin; he was stooped over, picking up firewood piled in the corner, his face hidden in the shadows and impossible to see clearly.

It was he who had just called for Luo Qingchen.

The other figure wore green robes and sat motionless on a prayer mat beside the fire, eyes closed.

Judging by his appearance, he was only in his thirties, yet his hair was entirely gray, making him look quite aged.

This man was their master, Tian Feng.

A large pot was set over the fire, the liquid inside boiling and bubbling, emitting a pungent odor that permeated the entire cave.

"Master."

Luo Qingchen stepped forward, bowing his head toward the man on the mat with a respectful tone.

Tian Feng slowly opened his eyes, sized him up, and said in a hoarse voice, "It seems you have recovered well. Come here; I require more blood."

As he spoke, he picked up the dagger resting nearby.

Luo Qingchen did not hesitate. Like a puppet devoid of emotion, he walked forward, knelt on the ground, extended his right arm, and pulled up his sleeve to reveal his scarred wrist.

No medicine slave dared to hesitate at a time like this.

Those who hesitated were now nothing more than a pile of skin.

Tian Feng said nothing more; he lightly sliced the skin on his wrist with the dagger.

Bright red blood immediately welled up.

Tian Feng set the dagger aside, picked up a large bowl with one hand, and gripped Luo Qingchen's arm with the other. With a pinch and release of his thumb on an acupoint, the blood began to flow out more rapidly.

Luo Qingchen's arm trembled slightly, whether from pain or fear, he could not tell.

Soon, the bowl was filled with blood.

Tian Feng released his grip, took out a bottle of medicine, sprinkled some powder onto the wound, and then wrapped it tightly with gauze.

"That is all. Go."

After speaking, he tossed over a piece of meat the size of a palm. "This is Ginseng Deer Meat. Eat it, rest well, and recover your strength as soon as possible."

"Many thanks, Master."

Luo Qingchen endured the pain, picked up the Ginseng Deer Meat, and stood up.

However, the moment he rose, he suddenly felt dizzy. His body went limp, and he stumbled to the side, leaning against the wall.

Yang Ming, who was walking over with an armful of firewood, did not even glance at him.

Tian Feng picked up the large bowl of fresh blood, stood up, and poured it into the pot without sparing him another glance.

Luo Qingchen silently braced himself against the wall, preparing to leave, when he suddenly looked at the figure by the fire and said, "Master, I would like to go down the mountain tomorrow."

Tian Feng looked at him and asked, "For what?"

Luo Qingchen replied respectfully, "Tomorrow is the seventh day since my family passed away. I wish to go and pay my respects."

Tian Feng frowned slightly, hesitated for a moment, and said coldly, "Remember to return."

"Yes."

Luo Qingchen did not disturb him further; he leaned against the wall and slowly walked out.

"Junior Brother Luo, are you alright?"

Once outside, Zhang Dashan saw his pale face and the gauze wrapped around his wrist. He immediately guessed what had happened, sighed, and whispered, "With Master drawing blood so frequently, I don't know how much longer we can hold on."

"Junior Brother Luo, go and rest. Master will be needing his medicinal bath soon, and I must go inside to serve him."

Zhang Dashan helped him to a corner before hurrying inside.

The outer cave fell silent.

Luo Qingchen sat in the dark corner, leaning against the wall, closing his eyes as he breathed softly.

Waves of pain radiated from his wrist.

Yet, at this moment, there was no fear in his heart.

His gaze was fixed on the two blood bars that had appeared within his body, along with the text following them.

[First Blood Bar: 70%]

[Second Blood Bar: 100%, Current Level: Ordinary Blood, Next Level: Gilded Blood]

An ordinary person only has one blood bar; losing more than 30% of their blood carries a risk of shock, and losing more than 40% or 50% carries a risk of death.

But he, even if he lost 100% of his blood, had a second blood bar that could replenish it instantly.

Furthermore, the second blood bar seemed capable of leveling up.

In the Demon Controlling Sect, whether it was for various cultivation techniques, breaking through bottlenecks, or refining weapons and pills, the freshest blood was always required.

Moreover, at many critical moments, only one's own blood was truly useful.

Therefore, this sect was perfectly suited for him.

However, he had to become a true disciple of the Demon Controlling Sect as soon as possible, rather than remaining a mere human medicine.

His head was still spinning.

But to avoid being discovered, he chose not to replenish his blood immediately.