Zhi Xuan emerged from the dilapidated incense shop after the red-eyed man gave him a cold smile. Zhi Xuan moved away from the place with a slightly trembling body but with a sigh of relief. He had obtained what he needed, and even acquired something unexpected.

  He wasted no time. Shoutuo City, entering the late afternoon, was filled with long shadows. Zhi Xuan knew he did not have hours for deep meditation. He had to go to a hidden spot, swallow the Cold Blood Pill, and allow the hellish healing process to take place.

  "I must heal these ribs immediately," Zhi Xuan muttered, clenching his jaw. "It will be very dangerous for my future foundation if I do not deal with it right away."

  Zhi Xuan walked with a limp, passing through small paths unconnected to the main road. The smell of wet earth and polluted water filled his senses. He kept walking away to go to the outskirts of the city.

  After some time, he found an empty, abandoned house, hidden behind piles of trash and moss on the city's edge. The smell was unpleasant, but the place was quiet and dark.

  Zhi Xuan forced his crushed body into the rickety building. Thick dust and the scent of rotting mushrooms greeted him. He searched for the most hidden corner, protected from spies and curious cultivators, and finally sat on a pile of dry straw remnants in a dark corner of the room.

  The pain from his ribs was now a dull ache; the effect of the Zhu Clan's Spirit Recovery Pill was starting to fade. The pain would soon stab again. Zhi Xuan could not delay.

  He took out the small bottle containing the Cold Blood Pills from beneath his robe. The ten dark blood-red pills emitted a strong spiritual essence aura, but the sharp, fishy smell wafting from the bottle indicated poison and potential cruelty.

  'Only one, monkey. Do not use more than one. That Granny Luo did not lie. This pill uses a poisonous essence to trigger regeneration. It will tear you apart from the inside,' Ruo Xianxue warned, her voice filled with vigilance.

  Zhi Xuan nodded silently. He clenched his jaw, took one pill from the bottle, and immediately swallowed it without water.

  As soon as the pill touched his tongue, a strong, fishy, bloody taste immediately filled his mouth. The spiritual essence it contained exploded in Zhi Xuan's stomach, not with a gentle warmth like the Spirit Recovery Pill, but with a biting, cruel coldness.

  Zhi Xuan felt as if his entire body was thrown into an eternal ocean of ice. The pain was no longer a stab, but a spread of burning ice from within. The Cold Blood Pill—as its name suggested—immediately froze the blood flow around the damaged area, especially the ribs, to hold the bone fragments, and at the same time, forced the bone cells to regenerate at a brutal speed.

  CRACK!

  He heard, or rather felt, the sound of bones grinding inside his own chest. The rapid freezing caused uncontrollable muscle spasms. Zhi Xuan slumped forward, gripping his own robe, forcing a muffled groan not to escape his locked jaw.

  Thick black blood flowed from his nose.

  Roar!

  Zhi Xuan gave a sharp snarl from behind his clenched jaw, his ribs feeling as if they were being bent and reformed like easily pliable bamboo.

  The coldness of the pill tried to freeze all of Zhi Xuan's energy flow, but the Taiyin Essence quickly enveloped it, directing the poison that triggered bone growth to where it should be: the fractured ribs and torn lungs.

  Zhi Xuan's ribs felt as if they were being squeezed by a giant claw. The friction of the bone fragments being reconnected was a symphony of suffering. Zhi Xuan felt every nerve being pulled until it broke. If he were just an ordinary Divine Wheel cultivator, he would have lost consciousness and died from shock or poisoning.

  "I will take this revenge," Zhi Xuan growled, enduring the pain. "One day I will kill those bastards Qin and Liu!"

  Zhi Xuan could not move. His entire body was tense with the deadly pain. He felt as if hundreds of ice needles were spinning around his broken ribs, tearing old tissue and growing new. This was hell, far worse than the Consciousness Transformation blow he received, because this was continuous pain, slicing from within.

  He forced his mind to visualize the Taiyin Essence. The Heavenly Samsara Wheel spun. Cold, pale jade essence immediately surged out, wrapping around every fractured rib. He knew that continuously using the Taiyin Essence would also endanger him, but he had no choice.

  Taiyin did not fight the effect of the Cold Blood Pill; it controlled its cruelty. The Taiyin coldness controlled the pill's coldness, ensuring regeneration occurred in the precise areas, and preventing the freezing from spreading to his vital organs.

  Zhi Xuan struggled in the darkness, the pain reaching an inhuman level. Each short breath was an attempt to separate himself from the burning agony. He remembered all his sufferings: the brutality of training in the river, the humiliation he received from Junior Brother Liu, the disgust from Young Master Gu's actions, and the Consciousness Transformation blow from Senior Brother Qin. All became fuel for his solidified resolve.

  'Let it burn!' Zhi Xuan roared in his mind. 'Burn all this weakness! Heal! Heal!'

  For two hours that felt like two days, Zhi Xuan did not move from the dirty pile of straw, save for occasional convulsions. Outside, the afternoon light began to dim into twilight.

  Slowly, the burning pain began to subside. The coldness of the pill was still present, but now a stable cold, no longer cruel. The remaining spiritual essence in the pill had been exhausted, and Zhi Xuan felt incredible regeneration.

  He slowly straightened his body. His ribs no longer screamed. When he touched his chest, he felt several small bumps in the area of the cracks, but the bones were now connected. His lungs no longer felt torn. He could take a deep breath, although it still hurt slightly.

  Zhi Xuan opened his eyes. He was sweating profusely, his face pale, and his lips cracked from dehydration, but he had survived. The Cold Blood Pill had worked, accelerating a healing process that should have taken weeks into just a few hours.

  'Damn. That was hell, Monkey,' Ruo Xianxue hissed, her voice filled with shock. 'I do not believe you endured that poison and regeneration. Your body truly is not normal. In a few more hours, your ribs will be strong again.'

  Zhi Xuan did not reply. He simply rose, his steps now much steadier than when he entered the empty house. He concealed the Cold Blood Pill bottle, which now only contained nine pills, and tightened the Fake Identity Jade on his waist.

  He saw shadows outside the window. Night had arrived. The Silver Moon Auction would soon begin.

  Zhi Xuan shifted his attention to the Ancient Map Scroll he bought at a high price. He opened it, being careful not to create new folds. The scroll emitted an ancient aura.

  'Nine Lotus Blood Flower,' Zhi Xuan whispered in his heart, tracing the map drawn with strange lines. 'This is the key to the First Ember. I will have it.'

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Zhi Xuan closed the map scroll, storing it in the safest place in his robe. He then walked out of the empty house, leaving the dust and decay behind. Although he had just passed through hell, the aura around him no longer radiated the exhaustion of a crushed Divine Wheel cultivator.

  Zhi Xuan took out the heart-nurturing jade from his robe pocket, staring at the heart-nurturing jade, and then the red cloth tied to his arm. Proof that he was a youth forced to undertake this mission, the mission to protect his own village.

  "Aunt Lian," Zhi Xuan murmured, remembering everything that had happened to him as if it were only yesterday, when he left the star village, when Grandpa Wu and the other residents sent him off. "I will not disappoint any of you, I will surely bring peace back to the star village."

  Zhi Xuan took a deep breath, although his chest still felt tight. He channeled a bit of Taiyin Essence, and immediately, the remaining pain was suppressed, leaving behind the cold composure that was his characteristic once more. With the Fake Identity Jade in hand, he stepped forward, disappearing into the darkness of the night, heading towards the Falling Water Pavilion.

  Zhi Xuan walked calmly, his sapphire blue eyes staring coldly at the road, his still-blind left eye emitting a pale jade light. His long black hair flowed down his back, his leather shoes contacting the main road that was no longer wet.

  "You still have time until the Silver Moon Auction begins," Ruo Xianxue said. "What will you do now?"

  Zhi Xuan did not answer. He merely stared coldly at the dimly lit streets, the city's oil lantern light reflecting in his pale left eye.

  Suddenly, from behind him, a luxurious carriage procession appeared, drawing attention. It was a sight that would make anyone on the street stop and stare, not only because of its striking luxury, but also the aura of power that accompanied it.

  The first carriage, pulled by two silver-scaled horses that emitted a slight spiritual aura, was made of finely carved sandalwood and adorned with glittering jade gems. Its windows were covered with golden silk curtains, but a majestic, cold aura emanated from within—an aura very familiar to Zhi Xuan. It was the procession of Zhu Qinglan, the Holy Maiden of the Zhu Clan.

  Behind it, a slightly smaller, yet no less luxurious, carriage followed. This carriage was adorned with the emblem of the Jade Star Sword Sect, and from within, a vibrant yet oppressive aura of power felt strong. It was Young Master Gu.

  Both carriages were escorted by rows of heavily armed guards. The Zhu Clan guards, in their elegant dark blue robes, exuded a strong Consciousness Transformation aura, their eyes sweeping the crowd with cold and arrogant stares. Beside them, the Jade Star Sword Sect guards, wearing sharper gray uniforms, exuded an equally terrifying power.

  The bustling street suddenly fell silent. Whispers immediately spread like wildfire among the city residents and low-level cultivators who dared to venture out that night.

  "My gosh, that is Holy Maiden Zhu!"

  "And that is Young Master Gu! They are coming together to the Silver Moon Auction!"

  "Look at the luxury. They truly are a match, aren't they?"

  "Holy Maiden Zhu and Young Master Gu... the rumors must be true. They will soon be engaged!"

  "The Zhu Clan and the Jade Star Sword Sect will unite. What an unmatched power!"

  "This will be the craziest auction ever. They will surely drain all the treasures at the auction!"

  "Look at the arrogance of the Zhu Clan guards. They walk as if the entire city belongs to them!"

  The whispers, although mostly admiration, were also filled with speculation and fear of the union of the two great powers. They saw it as a political marriage, a union that would strengthen their dominance over Shoutuo City and the surrounding area.

  Zhi Xuan stood silently on the roadside, allowing the procession to pass beside him. His sapphire blue eyes stared straight ahead, towards the darkness of the road in front of him. His pale left eye emitted a faint jade light, devoid of visible emotion. He did not turn his head, even slightly, to glance at Zhu Qinglan's or Young Master Gu's carriage.

  Inside the first carriage, Zhu Qinglan sat gracefully on the silk cushion, her light gray eyes partially hidden by the thin curtain. At her sides sat Ling'er and Mei.

  "Holy Maiden," Ling'er whispered, her face tense. "Young Master Gu... he forced his way to follow. Is this truly the right time to provoke the Poison Sect in his presence?"

  Zhu Qinglan did not answer. She merely raised her hand slightly, her gesture dismissing the question about Young Master Gu. Her light gray eyes, beneath the sparkle of the gems on her phoenix hairpin, suddenly focused their gaze.

  WHUMMM.

  A cold, newly stabilized Divine Wheel cultivator aura, yet filled with deadly composure, caught her attention. The aura came from the roadside, from a youth who did not turn his head, not even slightly, to look at the passing luxury.

  Zhu Qinglan could see Zhi Xuan's back, his tattered and black-red robe was now clean of blood and dust, but still showed deep signs of wear. She saw perfect composure in the way the youth stood.

  Zhu Qinglan smiled faintly behind her pearl veil. "Do you see, Ling'er?" she whispered, her voice containing a rare note of amusement. "He did not turn his head."

  Ling'er and Mei, who did not sense such subtle aura fluctuations amidst the rumble of their guards' Consciousness Transformation, exchanged glances. They saw Zhi Xuan, his back to them, standing on the edge of darkness, as if he were part of the night shadow.

  "Who did not turn their head, Your Highness?" Ling'er asked, confused.

  "The Black-Haired Devil," Zhu Qinglan replied. "He just passed through the hell of healing that should have left him dying for weeks, but he chose to stand tall in the middle of the road, ignoring this carriage as if we were mortal dust. He kept his arrogant promise."

  As Zhu Qinglan's and Young Master Gu's carriages passed, creating a strong wind that carried dust and the scent of expensive spiritual flowers, Zhi Xuan felt the familiar chill from Senior Brother Qin. He knew the guard was staring at him, making sure he was still alive and staying on the correct path.

  Just when Zhu Qinglan's carriage had passed him, and Young Master Gu's procession was beside him, Zhi Xuan tilted his head slightly to the side. It was a brief movement, almost invisible.

  His sapphire blue eyes glanced towards Young Master Gu's carriage, whose windows were covered by arrogant golden silk curtains. A cold and faint smile—a smile filled with hidden hatred and the promise of coming retribution—was briefly etched on Zhi Xuan's still-pale lips.

  Then his eyes turned towards Zhu Qinglan's carriage, a wider smile like a predator's sneer stalking a larger prey. That brief look penetrated directly into Zhu Qinglan's eyes behind the carriage curtain, but only for a blink, Zhi Xuan turned and left the crowd.

  Zhi Xuan turned and stepped away, disappearing into the darkness of the night as quickly as the shadow itself. His action—directly ignoring the passing power and luxury, only to throw a cold gaze filled with the promise of vengeance—was a silent declaration.

  Inside the first carriage, where the scent of sandalwood and luxury reigned in the air, a thick silence enveloped Zhu Qinglan and her two maidservants.

  Zhu Qinglan, who had just received that brief look, flinched. It was an almost invisible flinch, yet it was there, breaking the absolute elegance she usually maintained. Her snow-white face, which had maintained eternal serenity under the pressure of the Five Elements realm, was suddenly adorned with a faint pink blush, like an embarrassing touch of dawn.

  It was not fear, or anger, or even excitement. It was something more complex: a surprise driven by a will that surpassed logic.

  Zhu Qinglan immediately turned her face away from the curtain, her movement sharp and swift. Her hand holding the spiritual tea cup trembled slightly.

  "Holy Maiden?" Ling'er whispered, her face worried. She did not see the blush, but she sensed a subtle fluctuation in Zhu Qinglan's cold aura. "Did... did the Black-Haired Devil say something rude?"

  Mei, who was always sharper in matters of intelligence and hidden emotions, lowered her head, concealing her surprise. She had seen how rarely the Holy Maiden reacted, let alone with such a small movement.

  Zhu Qinglan took a nearly inaudible breath, forcing control over herself. The pink blush immediately faded, pulled back into her cold core.

  "Nothing," Zhu Qinglan replied, her voice returning to icy smoothness, but now with an underlying urgency. "He did not say anything. He just... looked."

  Zhu Qinglan placed the white jade cup back onto the small table beside her, her movements now slightly stiffer.

  "Deadly arrogance," Zhu Qinglan murmured, her tone returning to cold analysis, as if she were discussing a pill formula. "He did not turn his head when power passed, but he threw his final glance. That was not just a threat of vengeance towards Gu; it was an acknowledgment of my offer."

  "Acknowledgment?" Ling'er asked, confused.

  "He showed that he survived. He showed that he honors our negotiation," Zhu Qinglan explained. Her light gray eyes narrowed slightly, radiating cold sharpness once more.

  Mei, who was braver, slowly raised her head. "I saw it, Your Highness. He has... a kind of different cold aura. An older aura, after passing through that healing. And... his gaze toward Young Master Gu... that was a promise of unpredictable destruction."

  "That is good," Zhu Qinglan countered, leaning back onto the silk cushion. "Gu needs to be destroyed. He is too confident that he is the only one worthy of my attention. The Black-Haired Devil is an excellent pawn for now."

  However, in the corner of her heart, Zhu Qinglan felt something else. The will she sensed in that brief look was not the will of a pawn. It was an equal will, refusing to kneel. The embarrassing pink blush was an acknowledgment that, for the first time, someone was not merely admiring her power, but challenging it with a tangible promise of the future.

  "Ling'er," Zhu Qinglan commanded, her tone firm. "Focus all our intelligence. Silver Moon Auction. We must drain the Poison Sect today. Gu will also be chasing something similar."

  "Yes, Holy Maiden," Ling'er and Mei replied in unison, their focus now returning to the political agenda.