"You can neutralize the poison in my body?" Dugu Bo finally set aside his pride and couldn't help but ask.
Tang San said coolly, "Even if I could, I wouldn't. You'd only end up worse off than I am. Just kill me. You yourself may no longer fear death—at seventy, a long life is rare enough, after all. But I pity your granddaughter, whose beauty is like jade and snow. She won't last as long as you can, and she may not have your fortitude to endure the ever-growing pain. Her poison will erupt even more violently than yours, because she has been steeped in this toxin since before she was born."
In order to survive, Tang San was making his final play. The first time he had seen Dugu Yan—the Jade Phosphor Serpent Soul Master—he had already harbled suspicions from her appearance. As far as he knew, hair and eye colors like hers did not exist in this world. Coupled with the Jade Phosphor Serpent venom she later employed, he had already formed his judgment.
Now, seeing Dugu Yan's grandfather—this old monster before him—Tang San was even more certain of his assessment. Dugu Yan had indeed inherited her grandfather's Martial Soul and its formidable toxic ability, but she had also inherited the backlash of the poison itself. Every word Tang San spoke was the unvarnished truth, and even someone as proud and aloof as Dugu Bo had nothing to say in rebuttal.
Letting go, Dugu Bo allowed Tang San to slide free of his grip and regarded him coldly. "What reason do you have to make me believe you can neutralize the deadly poison in my body?"
This time, Tang San didn't even bother getting up. He simply sat cross-legged on the ground. "Do I need to prove it to you? You're going to kill me regardless. A person like you is nothing but a scourge upon the world. If I saved you, I'd only be enabling a tyrant."
Just as Tang San said, Dugu Bo might not care whether he lived or died, but he could not ignore his granddaughter's future. Dugu Yan had only just turned twenty—she still had a wonderful life ahead of her. And before Dugu Yan, he had already tasted the agony of losing family. He absolutely refused to let that happen again.
Dugu Bo had played with poison his entire life, yet he was utterly powerless against the toxin in his own body. He had made countless attempts, but all they brought him was greater suffering.
The shifting colors on his face grew more pronounced. Dugu Bo slowly clasped his hands behind his back, and his voice softened by several degrees. "Yan Yan tells me your name is Tang San, is that right?"
"A real man does not change his given name or his family name. That's correct." Tang San looked up coldly, his chin raised.
Dugu Bo let out a disdainful snort. "A thirteen-year-old brat, and you call yourself a real man? Fine—I won't waste words with you. If you truly can remove the poison from my granddaughter and me, then not only will I refrain from killing you, I'll even agree to do three things for you. Three things that don't cross the bottom line of my principles."
Tang San said calmly, "You won't kill me? Just like you said earlier, what reason do I have to believe you? Killing me would be as easy as lifting a hand. Betraying those who've shown you kindness isn't exactly unheard of for someone like you."
Dugu Bo was momentarily stunned. He hadn't expected a boy who looked barely in his teens to be this difficult to handle. "Have you never even heard of my reputation?" he snapped angrily. "I've never claimed to be a good person, but I value my word absolutely. No one has ever dared show such contempt for my honor."
Tang San closed his eyes. "That's nothing more than your own empty words. Unless you swear a Poison Oath, I won't believe a word of it."
A vicious gleam flashed in Dugu Bo's eyes, and he nearly lost his patience—but the thought of his granddaughter forced him to swallow his rage.
"Fine. As long as you prove you can neutralize my poison, I'll swear the oath."
A lifeline had finally appeared, and Tang San silently breathed a sigh of relief. But the cloth on his back was already soaked through with sweat. No matter who you were, you feared death—and Tang San was no exception. Dying without achieving anything of value was something he especially refused to accept.
He rose to his feet once more and retracted the Eight Spider Lances on his back. "How would you like me to prove it?"
Dugu Bo withdrew the murderous glint from his eyes. "Prove to me that your skill with poison surpasses mine, and I'll believe you." In the depths of his mind, he remained deeply distrustful of Tang San. After all, this was a boy of only thirteen. Could a thirteen-year-old child possibly match someone who had immersed himself in the art of poison for decades? But Tang San's words had struck squarely at his most vulnerable point, describing his symptoms with perfect precision. Facing such an opportunity, Dugu Bo had no choice but to take the chance. Whether he killed Tang San or not made no real difference—even with extraordinary talent, it would take decades before the boy could pose any actual threat to him, and by then he would likely have died of old age. What was there to fear? But if the boy truly could cure the poison—especially the hereditary toxin passed down to his granddaughter—that, for Dugu Bo, was what mattered most.
Tang San spread his hands open in a gesture of helplessness. "I have nothing on me at all. How am I supposed to prove my skill with poison surpasses yours?"