The night was cool as water.
Through the square window, lamplight illuminated the room.
On the bed, a plump little boy with a round head slept soundly, his head buried like an ostrich and his bottom sticking up. A Twenty-One-Eye Dzi Bead hung against his soft pink chest, seeming to shimmer with a strange light.
At the desk beside him, Yan Lingyun blinked her clear eyes as she leafed through the Daoist scriptures and medical texts before her, their pages nearly worn to shreds.
They had all been passed down by the Junk King.
Lately, she had searched through all sorts of strange prescriptions, even handwritten folk recipes for poisons. Coming from a family of Traditional Chinese Medicine practitioners, and being from Lingnan herself, Yan Lingyun was no stranger to such things.
She only wanted to see whether anything could help Lian Youming.
But even the most potent poisons were worlds apart from those biochemical toxins.
She was no Martial Artist. The only way she could think of to deal with those Mystic Connection Old Monsters was to draw on her own strengths and approach the problem through pharmacology.
Different people understood the Martial Way differently.
As Yan Lingyun saw it, all these Martial Artists sought throughout their lives was to turn their physical bodies into great furnaces, keeping their vital essence from leaking out and holding on to the vitality that slipped away day and night, while replenishing it appropriately, all to extend their lives and transcend ordinary beings.
And when Martial Artists fought, all their offensive abilities served one purpose: breaking their opponent's furnace so that their vital essence would leak out, naturally causing their power to dissipate and bringing death.
But people like Lian Youming essentially sought to break through from the outside when they fought. Poison