316: Dongfang Ling

Having received the President's approval, the manager no longer hesitated and respectfully handed the jade box containing the Saint-Grade Medicinal Pill to the young man.

The young man's hands trembled as he reached out, carefully taking the warm jade box.

The moment the cool jade box touched his skin, his entire body shuddered violently.

He stared fixedly at the pill inside the box, which shimmered with radiant light and flashing pill patterns, as if using all his strength to confirm its reality.

A thick aura of life emanated through the jade box, clashing violently with the Death Qi permeating his body. It caused him to let out a pained groan, and fine beads of cold sweat instantly broke out on his forehead, yet the light in his eyes grew brighter and brighter.

"Wh... why?" he finally managed to speak, his voice incredibly hoarse. His gaze was locked onto Di Wushang's face, filled with confusion and inquiry.

In Rakshasa City, profit was paramount, and the law of the jungle was the iron rule.

He knew full well that the Profound Mysterious Crystal Essence he had offered was far from enough, and he understood even better how much trouble the thick, inescapable Death Qi on his body represented.

Why would this young man before him, with his deep and cold aura and eyes as terrifying as an Asura, bestow such a favor upon him?

Di Wushang's gaze calmly met the young man's questioning look. Those Asura Demonic Eyes were bottomless, as if they could see through the deepest secrets of a person's heart.

He did not answer directly, but merely asked a question in return. His voice was not loud, yet it reached the young man's ears clearly:

"A single Medicinal Pill might temporarily sustain your life, but this Death Qi on you is deep-rooted and cannot be resolved by ordinary medicine. If this drags on, it will ultimately be a path to death."

His words were like a cold blade, precisely dissecting the cruel reality.

The young man's body suddenly stiffened, and his knuckles turned white again from the force of gripping the jade box.

Di Wushang's words had struck his deepest inner fear and despair.

How could he not know? This Death Qi, like a maggot on a bone, was dragging him bit by bit into eternal darkness.

Di Wushang watched the light in the young man's eyes dim for a moment before he forced it back up, and continued in a tone that remained flat and emotionless:

"The Medicinal Pill is yours. Now, if you still have the strength, follow me inside for a cup of tea."

After saying this, Di Wushang stopped looking at him. He turned around, his black robes cutting a steady arc in the dim light as he led the way toward the inner hall's quiet room.

A flash of realization crossed Situ Qinsheng's eyes. She gave Di Lingxiao a meaningful look and elegantly turned to follow.

Di Lingxiao grinned, shouldered the dragon fall spear, and strode behind them. His eyes, however, swept over the young man like a hawk, filled with undisguised scrutiny and a hint of interest.

Only the young man remained in the front hall.

He stood there alone, holding the jade box that felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, sensing the surging vitality radiating from the pill within—a vitality completely at odds with the Death Qi in his body.

Di Wushang's final words echoed in his ears like a curse—'If this drags on, it will ultimately be a path to death'.

What was the meaning hidden beneath that flat tone? Was it an opportunity? A trap? Or... a faint glimmer of hope for survival?

Expressions shifted uncertainly on his pale face. Ultimately, his bone-deep desire to live and his longing for that slim chance at life overrode all doubt and pride.

He bit his lower lip hard, almost drawing blood. Using all his strength, he moved his feet with difficulty, step by step, dragging his heavy, broken shell of a body—riddled with Death Qi—to follow toward the inner hall where Di Wushang had disappeared.

Every step felt like a wrestling match with an invisible god of death, leaving behind a suffocating shadow of deathly silence.

The clamor of Rakshasa City was shut out by the heavy doors. The fragrance of tea in the inner hall and an unknown fate awaited him.

Inside the quiet room of the Dark Merchant Guild, the spirit tea brewed with a gentle mist. The emerald liquid rippled softly in white jade cups, emitting an elegant fragrance that calmed the mind and spirit, creating a world apart from the bloody chaos outside.

However, the atmosphere within this small space was even more stagnant than the clashing of blades outside.

The grey-robed youth sat in a lower seat, his back strained to stay straight, yet he still could not suppress the slight trembling of his body, like withered grass in a gale.

The warm jade box containing the 'Life-Prolonging Soul-Returning Pill' was clenched tightly in his hands, his knuckles white from the force, as if he were clutching his last life-saving straw.

The surging vitality from the pill seeped into his riddled body strand by strand, clashing violently with the heavy Death Qi. Every collision brought bone-deep pain, causing cold sweat to pour from his forehead, his pale face tinged with a deathly grey-green hue.

He was like a piece of porcelain slowly cracking, barely maintaining its form.

Di Lingxiao sat opposite him in a dominant posture, his dragon fall spear leaning casually against the carved back of his chair, its tip glinting with a cold light.

His arms were crossed and his gaze was like a torch, scrutinizing the dying yet strange youth before him without concealment. His eyes were so sharp they seemed ready to skin and deconstruct the other man.

Di Wushang sat beside the main seat, his black robes making his face appear even more cold and serene. He slowly toyed with the spirit tea in his cup, the rising steam blurring the Asura demonic light hidden deep in his eyes, making it impossible to see the undercurrents surging beneath.

Situ Qinsheng sat elegantly in the main seat, the dark purple thunder patterns on her moon-white dress flowing with a faint light under the soft illumination. She took a light sip of tea, and deep within her profound eyes, fine purple electric arcs flowed silently. The Purple Heaven Temple Destiny Eye was quietly activated, taking in the thick, churning grey-black Death Qi above his head, adding several more layers of surprise and solemnity to her heart.

"Now, can you speak?" Di Lingxiao broke the silence, his voice deep and powerful, carrying an unquestionable pressure like muffled thunder rolling through the quiet room.

"Who are you? Where do you come from? And how did you become tainted with this lethal Death Qi?"

His gaze was locked onto the other party, not missing even the slightest change on the youth's face.

Dongfang Ling's body shook violently as a severe coughing fit erupted again. He covered his mouth tightly, suppressed groans escaping from between his fingers, as dark red blood foam stained his pale knuckles.

After a long while, he finally managed to calm down. His chest heaved violently, every breath accompanied by a raspy sound like a broken bellows.

He looked up, and those eyes deep-set in his pale face—though bloodshot from the agony—held a settled, almost numb indifference at their depths, along with a sliver of light from his very bones that could not be completely extinguished.

"I... am called Dongfang Ling," his voice was hoarse and dry. "Just... a rootless piece of duckweed."

The corners of his mouth twitched, forming a bleak smile that looked worse than crying, while deep confusion and pain flickered in his eyes.

"As for exactly where I'm from... I don't know myself. Since I can remember, I've been an orphan struggling to survive in the mud, like a wild dog, relying on picking up scraps and... stealing to stay alive." His voice lowered, carrying the bitterness of memory.

"Later..." His eyes seemed to soften for an instant, only to be covered by a deeper gloom.

"I was taken in by a kind-hearted couple. They were... very ordinary, running a small general store. That was the only time in my life... I tasted what home felt like."

He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty, his knuckles clicking slightly from the force of gripping the jade box.

"The peaceful days... only lasted a few years. A sudden fire... burned down the shop, and... burned them to death."