Failure

Morning light had yet to reach the secret chamber when Jin urged Mo Juren to accompany her to the gloomy stone room. She wore a brand-new crimson dress, her hair impeccably arranged, her face brimming with anticipation.

"My lord, where is the main ingredient?" Jin looked around, her gaze settling on the black-lacquered wooden box at the center of the stone platform. "Is it this?"

Mo Juren stood in the shadows, the black markings on his face looking even more hideous in the faint candlelight. His throat bobbed, and his voice came out dry. "Yes."

Delighted, Jin ran her hand over the patterns on the box, then turned to ask, "May I open it and take a look?"

"...You may."

With his permission, Jin eagerly lifted the lid. The instant she lowered her head to look inside, a flicker of anguish crossed Mo Juren's eyes, and his right hand darted out like a venomous snake-

"Hus..."

A precise knife-hand strike landed on the back of Jin's neck. Her body went limp, falling backward into Mo Juren's trembling arms.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." Mo Juren laid his wife flat on the stone platform, his gaunt fingers brushing her still-beautiful face. Images of their twenty years of weathering hardship together flashed through his mind. He abruptly turned his head away, unable to look any longer.

Creak-

The chamber door slowly swung open as though pushed by invisible hands, and an icy presence swept inside.

Dressed in blue, Jing Wen drifted in without a sound, like a specter in the dark.

Mo Juren shuddered as though struck by lightning. He hastily dropped to his knees with a thud, pressing his forehead hard against the cold floor, his voice trembling:

"Senior!"

Jing Wen raised a hand in a gesture of support, and a vast, invisible force instantly lifted Mo Juren to his feet.

Jing Wen's gaze was as sharp as a hawk's. It first swept over Jin, lying unconscious on the floor, then settled on Mo Juren's terrified face:

"Have you memorized the method on those pages?"

"I could recite it backward!" Mo Juren replied hastily.

For this moment, he had stayed awake all night, engraving the contents of those few pages into the depths of his soul.

Jing Wen nodded slightly.

In truth, he attached great importance to the method of transferring the Baleful Bead. If it worked, it would have an immeasurable impact on his subsequent plans.

But he kept his thoughts deeply concealed, his expression utterly calm. He merely instructed, "Begin."

Mo Juren hesitated. His stick-thin fingers rubbed together involuntarily, and his voice trembled. "Senior... should we wake her?

"That way... perhaps that way, the results would be better..."

Jing Wen raised an eyebrow. He naturally understood that Mo Juren wanted to perform the ritual while his cultivation partner was conscious, so he could carry out every step to perfection.

But in Jing Wen's eyes, this was nothing more than an experiment.

"No need." Jing Wen turned toward the stone seat by the wall, his voice cold.

"Unconsciousness will reduce her resistance."

Mo Juren nodded at his words.

He drew a deep breath, curled his fingers into claws, and slowly reached toward Jin's dantian.

"Let blood be the guide, let the soul be the bridge..." He recited the incantation under his breath, every word seeming to squeeze through his clenched teeth.

As he chanted, his hand slowly moved toward Jin's chest.

The instant his clawed fingers pierced her flesh, Jin's eyelashes fluttered, and her eyes suddenly opened.

"My... lord...?"

Her pupils reflected her husband's hideous face-the black markings writhed like living things. Not a trace of tenderness remained in his eyes, only a chilling resolve.

Mo Juren's hand did not hesitate for an instant. He plunged it into Jin's dantian!

"Aah-!"

Jin's scream cut off abruptly. Her body convulsed violently, as though countless little snakes were slithering beneath her skin.

Mo Juren's fingers touched something cold enough to pierce the bone and were immediately held fast.

Is this the Baleful Bead?

Gritting his teeth, he exerted his strength and forcibly dragged out the ink-black object.

Blood-red patterns covered the Baleful Bead's surface. Like a still-beating heart, it gave off a nauseating bloody stench.

The moment he successfully extracted the Baleful Bead, a powerful suction gripped him. Mo Juren felt his fingers stick firmly to its surface, unable to move.

More terrifying still, the dark-red threads of blood slithered up his fingers like living snakes, covering his entire palm in the blink of an eye!

Excruciating pain surged over him like a raging tide. Mo Juren clenched his teeth as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.

He felt countless foreign things flooding madly into his body through his blood vessels. Wherever they passed, his blood seemed to boil, and his muscles began to twist and deform.

At the same time, the shrill screams of countless wronged souls rang in his ears, as though demanding his life, or perhaps warning him.

With his trembling left hand, Mo Juren grabbed a dagger and slashed open his abdomen without hesitation.

Blood gushed out, but he seemed oblivious to it as he forcefully pressed the writhing Baleful Bead into the wound!

"Fuse... fuse, damn you!"

He roared, circulating his cultivation art as described in the manual, trying to guide the Baleful Bead down into his dantian.

But the Baleful Bead rampaged through his abdominal cavity like a living creature, each collision bringing pain that tore through his heart and lungs.

Jing Wen watched coldly, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of the stone seat.

He noticed strange runes beginning to appear around Mo Juren's abdominal wound-a sign of baleful qi backlash.

Veins bulged on Mo Juren's forehead. Beads of sweat fell like rain, soaking the floor beneath him.

His ten fingers dug deep into his own flesh, leaving shocking bloody gouges across his deathly pale skin.

With each attempt to guide the Baleful Bead into his dantian, searing pain spread from his abdominal wound throughout his body, as though tens of thousands of ants were gnawing at his bones.

The Baleful Bead was like an unyielding stone, emitting an eerie glow. No matter how Mo Juren drove the spiritual qi within him, he could not move it in the slightest.

It trembled faintly in the wound, as though mocking Mo Juren for overestimating himself.

Mo Juren's face turned from deathly pale to ashen, then from ashen to almost translucent. Every breath brought violent coughing, and blood spilled continuously from the corners of his mouth.

"No! Impossible..." Mo Juren let out a despairing roar that echoed through the chamber, filled with defiance and rage.

His pupils contracted sharply with pain, yet he kept staring fixedly at the Baleful Bead in his abdomen, as though he could force it to fuse with his body through his gaze alone.

Finally, he summoned the last shred of strength in his body and tried to struggle once more.

Then his body shook violently, like a fallen leaf in a gale.

A powerful wave of dizziness struck, and the world before his eyes began to spin.

Mo Juren crashed heavily to the floor. His limbs twitched a few times, then went utterly still.

Jing Wen stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the two bodies on the floor as they slowly grew cold. He sighed softly. "As expected... without a blood relationship to bind it, the Baleful Bead remains difficult to tame."

With a slight flick of his sleeve, a blood-red pill flew through the air and landed precisely in Mo Juren's mouth.

The pill dissolved immediately, turning into a warm current that surged through his limbs and bones.

"Ugh..."

Mo Juren's eyes flew open, his pupils thick with bloodshot veins.

He struggled to prop himself up. The wound in his abdomen had already scabbed over, but the black markings beneath his skin were more hideous than before, spreading over his entire body like a spiderweb.

"I... failed..."

His voice was so hoarse it scarcely sounded human. His gaunt fingers dug deep into the bluestone floor.

Jing Wen looked down from above at Mo Juren, sprawled on the ground. His voice seemed to rise from the deepest hell, cold and beyond question. "For the Baleful Bead to recognize a master, bloodline must serve as the medium. The closer the blood relationship, the greater the chance of success.

"I warned you of that long ago."

Mo Juren suddenly began coughing violently and spat out a mouthful of black blood.

Something seemed to writhe within the blood before it turned into black smoke and dispersed.

Trembling, he clambered up, then dropped heavily to his knees before Jing Wen again.

Mo Juren's eyes instantly flooded with blood, a terrifying madness gleaming within them. He slammed his head against the floor again and again, leaving bloody stains on the tiles. "Please, Senior, give me one more chance! This time, I will succeed!"

Jing Wen's gaze seemed almost tangible as it pinned Mo Juren where he knelt.

His eyes were deep and unfathomable, like a secluded, icy pool whose depths concealed every thought.

The atmosphere in the chamber was suffocatingly oppressive. Only the candle flames moved, casting twisted light and shadows on the walls.

After a brief silence, Jing Wen slowly nodded. His low voice carried an unquestionable authority. "Very well.

"But this is your last chance. If you fail again... death.

"Trash has no value to me!"

The gloom on Mo Juren's face vanished instantly, and the flame of hope rekindled in his eyes.

He hurriedly kowtowed, his forehead striking the floor with dull thuds. "Yes, Senior! I will not disappoint you!"

At that moment, he seemed to have grasped his last lifeline, his voice filled with absolute resolve.