Jing Wen suddenly shuddered, and the blood-red tint in his eyes gradually faded.
He lowered his head to look at his palm, where his nails had drawn bloody marks without his noticing. Cold sweat instantly soaked his back.
"I lost control again..." he murmured hoarsely, tipping an Iceheart Pill out of a jade bottle.
The instant the pill entered his mouth, a familiar coolness swept through his body. Yet this time, its potency had clearly weakened considerably, as though separated from him by a thin veil.
Jing Wen knitted his brows, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the medicine bottle. "Resistance after just four years..." He shook his head with a bitter smile.
"I reckon the Iceheart Pill will hold out for another two years at most before I become completely resistant."
He turned his palm upward. A pill lay quietly upon it, a soft, mellow luster flowing across its surface.
This was a second-grade Clearheart Pill. Like the Iceheart Pill, it was excellent for steadying the mind and calming one's qi, but its higher grade made it even better at nourishing his state of mind.
Jing Wen gazed at the pill and silently calculated, A first-grade Iceheart Pill can last six years at most. This second-grade Clearheart Pill should keep me free of worry for twenty or thirty years.
"Fortunately, I prepared in advance." Jing Wen sighed softly, but did not take it immediately.
He closed his eyes and examined himself inwardly, discovering that the mass of blood-red baleful qi in his Purple Mansion had grown another thirty percent since his last inspection. It was slowly eroding his divine sense.
The murderous thought he had entertained just now suddenly flashed through his mind-for a pill formula he could easily obtain, he had actually wanted to extract and refine the soul of