At the sight of that character, Qin Zhao's pupils contracted. He instinctively clutched the porcelain bottle tightly, his heart pounding like a drum.
"Imperial Father?"
He did not know how his imperial father had managed it, but from what he had learned about cultivators during this time, these so-called cultivators were all selfish creatures. To live in comfort themselves, they paid no heed to whether others lived or died.
They had brought people like him here solely because they coveted their talent for developing spiritual roots even in the spiritually barren Mortal Realm. They wanted to use their bloodlines to alter those of their own descendants.
By comparison, he was already fortunate, because more people had been sent to the mines as miners. The people here did not treat them as human beings at all. They were livestock, expendable supplies that needed no consideration.
Thus, when he saw the character "Qin," his first thought was what price his imperial father had paid to persuade that person to come and save him.
After hesitating for a moment, Qin Zhao opened the bottle. A rich medicinal fragrance mingled with spiritual energy instantly wreathed his nose and lingered for a long time.
"These pills..."
Their quality was far better than that of the pills he usually received.
For a moment, the conviction he had held so firmly became uncertain.
If his imperial father had sent that person, why would they give him such good pills for nothing? If not, what did this "Qin" mean?
Unable to make any sense of it after thinking for a while, Qin Zhao simply stopped thinking. The arrival of these pills had indeed put out the fire at his brows.
With that thought, he tipped out a pill and put it into his mouth.
The pill melted in