A Way to Scheme Extreme Yin to Death

"Brother Biao, hurry up and teach this brat a brutal lesson! Kill him!"

The little beggar stood behind Brother Biao, and with the light so dim, he had not noticed anything wrong with Brother Biao at all. He was still shouting viciously.

Song Wen sensed that there was nothing left in Brother Biao's body to devour. With a push of his left hand, he sent the dried corpse drifting through the air.

Only then did the little beggar clearly see Brother Biao's miserable state.

His entire body was shriveled and dehydrated, his skin yellowed and wrinkled, like a mummified corpse that had not decayed for a thousand years.

"Ah... a ghost... a bloodsucking fiend."

The little beggar was terrified out of his wits. His legs went weak, and he collapsed to the ground. Then, in a blind panic, he scrambled backward on hands and knees.

The little beggar's scream jolted Song Wen out of his intoxication. He too was startled by Brother Biao's miserable appearance. After a brief daze, he turned a cold gaze toward the little beggar trying to flee.

He absolutely could not let the little beggar escape.

The secret that he could kill people and devour their blood essence could never be known by anyone else.

Thinking of the strange energy that had inexplicably appeared in his body and saved his life when he had taken the Blood Qi Pill that day, Song Wen was certain that his body seemed to conceal an enormous secret—one that could terrify people, a secret that absolutely could not be exposed.

Song Wen pushed off the ground with all his strength, shooting forward more than a zhang. He grabbed the little beggar by the back of the neck.

"N-No... don't. Please, spare me." The little beggar begged loudly.

Song Wen turned a deaf ear. His heart was as cold as stone, utterly untouched by the little beggar's age.

This little beggar had none of a child's innocence and sweetness. All he possessed was viciousness and ferocity. Letting him go would undoubtedly bury a huge hidden danger for himself.

The dagger mercilessly pierced the little beggar's heart, ending his short life.

The little beggar's blood essence was once again devoured clean, turning him into a dried corpse.

And Song Wen experienced that incomparably comfortable, wondrous sensation once more.

After consecutively absorbing the blood essence of a strong adult man and a vigorous child, Song Wen's own body seemed somewhat unable to bear it.

It was exactly like the feeling of an utterly starving person gorging himself until he was stuffed.

Song Wen felt every muscle cell in his body throbbing. His body trembled somewhat beyond his control.

His mind was hazy as well, as if he were drunk. Even the ground beneath his feet felt soft, as though he were walking on clouds, leaving him with an intensely unreal sensation.

Even the scant spiritual energy in his dantian boiled and churned without end, as though it had taken a stimulant.

Song Wen struggled to calm his thoughts a little. Looking at the two dried corpses on the ground, he considered how to dispose of them. If he left them here, they would very likely panic the common folk and draw the authorities' attention. If anyone traced it back to him, that would be troublesome.

They might even treat him as an evil fiend descended upon the world and burn him alive before a crowd.

"I have to destroy the corpses and erase the evidence."

Suppressing the discomfort in both body and mind, Song Wen looked around and found no one nearby. No one had discovered them yet.

He tried circulating his spiritual energy and threw a full-force punch at the little beggar's corpse.

After losing its blood essence, the dried corpse had become extremely brittle. Song Wen's punch directly blew the little beggar's head apart.

The shattered head became a heap of grayish-white rotten flesh, without a trace of red in it.

Song Wen's eyes lit up. Once shattered like this, it was already extremely difficult to tell that the head had belonged to a human.

Carrying the two dried corpses, Song Wen went to the foul ditch beside the alley and punched the bodies again and again.

Before long, both dried corpses had been smashed into pieces, and Song Wen threw all the fragments into the foul ditch.

He then gathered up every piece of the little beggar's shattered skull and scattered them into the foul ditch as well.

After finishing all this, Song Wen quickly left the alley.

When Song Wen reached the main road, he realized that the excitement in his body and the floating sensation in his mind had grown even stronger.

While dealing with the dried corpses just now, his intense tension had dulled the discomfort, but it had not vanished. It had merely accumulated, only to erupt suddenly at this moment.

Song Wen felt that he was beginning to lose control of his body. Even walking in a straight line had become somewhat difficult.

Song Wen gritted his teeth and persevered, staggering all the way back to the Heavenly Baleful Gang.

Having finally returned to his room, Song Wen immediately wanted to cultivate and ease the discomfort in his body.

But he discovered that neither the churning blood qi within him nor his drifting mental state would allow him to calm down and meditate.

With no other choice, he could only lie on the bed and wait for his body to recover naturally. Who would have thought that once he lay down, he gradually fell asleep, not waking until the next morning.

By the next morning, the discomfort in his body and mind had gradually faded considerably.

Yet his blood qi was still abundant throughout his body, as though it were about to leak out on its own, and his little brother stood proudly at attention.

Just then, someone knocked on the door.

"Young Master Song, breakfast is ready."

It was Aunt Chen, the servant, delivering his meal.

It seemed that while his body had been absorbing and digesting the devoured blood qi last night, it had also consumed a great deal of energy. At this moment, Song Wen was ravenous, as if he could eat an entire cow.

Song Wen immediately got out of bed and opened the door.

He saw a middle-aged woman standing outside, carrying a food box and waiting.

Her lowered gaze happened to fall beneath Song Wen's waist, and her eyes went blank for a moment.

Song Wen took the food box and said, "Thank you, Aunt Chen. I'm rather hungry today, so please bring two more portions—no, five more breakfasts."

Aunt Chen was momentarily stunned and did not respond. Only after Song Wen closed the door did she come back to her senses.

An inexplicable flush rose to her face as she muttered to herself.

"He may be young, but he's got quite the capital, and quite the appetite too. Being young really is wonderful."

Since Song Wen had drawn qi into his body, his senses had gradually grown much sharper. He heard every single word of Aunt Chen's quiet muttering outside.

He looked down and found that his capital did indeed seem rather substantial.

After Song Wen finished all six breakfasts Aunt Chen had brought him, he finally felt full.

He opened the door, went outside, and entered the herb garden to tend the spiritual herbs, which also helped settle his food.

At the same time, he quietly pondered the process of devouring the two men's blood essence last night.

Looking inward, he found that his previously severely depleted blood qi had been completely replenished. As for the excess blood qi from last night, he had no idea where it had gone; he could no longer sense it.

He also felt that his physical body had been strengthened slightly. The effect was minor and not obvious, but he could clearly feel it.

Moreover, his mind seemed to have improved somewhat, and his understanding of cultivation techniques had become much clearer.

"Could it be that what I devoured was not merely their blood essence, but something else as well?"

"Where exactly does my body's devouring ability come from? Could this be the cheat ability every transmigrator has been waiting for?"

Quick-witted Song Wen soon realized that this devouring ability seemed capable of helping him resolve his current predicament.

As long as he handled it properly, there was a great chance that he could scheme Extreme Yin to death.

At that thought, Song Wen's mind became active.

What he had failed to notice from beginning to end was that he felt no discomfort whatsoever from killing people. Instead, deep in his heart, he had always harbored a faint anticipation for killing again and drinking blood.