When Tang San had initially refused Dugu Bo's proposal to become his disciple, Dugu Bo had been furious. But after some time had passed, he realized that Tang San wasn't being arrogant at all. While Tang San's experience with poison was inferior to his own, his knowledge was in no way lacking. Through their mutual discussions, both of them gained considerable benefit in their understanding of poison arts. And the wariness between them had quietly faded away without either of them noticing.
Of course, Dugu Bo's Elixir Pearl was still inside Tang San's dantian, and Tang San had never once raised the matter. The old man and the young boy had come to resemble close friends, repeating a similar routine day after day.
What was amusing was that Dugu Bo, relying on his own knowledge of herbs, had attempted to replicate the antidote after taking Tang San's version. Though the ingredients he used were identical to those Tang San had employed, the resulting antidote was completely ineffective. Little did he know that Tang San's antidote contained a crucial catalyst that made all the difference.
In the blink of an eye, half a year had passed. During that time, the Great Master and Flandre had each come to visit twice. Seeing that the apparent harmony between Tang San and Dugu Bo didn't seem to be an act, and that Tang San himself was in no danger, they were finally at ease. They simply instructed Tang San that once his studies and training here were complete, he should head straight to the new Shrek Academy to rejoin them.
Dugu Bo was, after all, a Titled Douluo. While Tang San could match him in knowledge of poisons, when it came to Martial Soul cultivation, Dugu Bo's experience was something Tang San couldn't even begin to compare with.
Dugu Bo, grateful for Tang San's help in curing his poisoning, occasionally offered him guidance that deepened Tang San's understanding of Martial Souls. In terms of breadth of knowledge, Dugu Bo couldn't compare to the Great Master. But he had personally experienced the entire journey from a beginning cultivator all the way to Titled Douluo, and that was experience the Great Master simply didn't possess. As a result, Tang San benefited enormously from him.
On top of that, the Ice and Fire Eyes had been continuously reshaping Tang San's body as they helped him absorb the Eight-Cornered Ice Herb and the Blazing Fire Apricot, supplemented by the effect of Dugu Bo's Elixir Pearl. Over the course of these six months, Tang San's Soul Power had advanced by leaps and bounds. From the thirty-fourth rank when he'd first arrived, he had climbed three consecutive ranks to reach the thirty-seventh, on the verge of catching up to where Dai Mubai had been.
"Little Monster, I'm here!" Dugu Bo descended from the sky with his usual boisterous air.
"Hm?" Dugu Bo glanced toward the spot where Tang San usually rested. Normally, whenever he came by in the evening, Tang San would at least offer a greeting. But today there was no sound at all. Had something happened to him?
Startled, Dugu Bo leaped over in a few bounding steps. When he saw Tang San sitting there, he let out a small breath of relief. Though he was somewhat reluctant to admit it, Dugu Bo no longer held any of his old enmity toward Tang San—in fact, he had come to regard him as a friend.
Dugu Bo was a reclusive man by nature, and with a poison Martial Soul to boot, no Soul Master ever wanted to associate with him—and those who did were motivated primarily by fear. Tang San, for all that he called the old man a monster every day, had gradually given rise to a peculiar sense of warmth in Dugu Bo's heart over these past months. It was something between the bond of elder and junior, and the concern shared between friends. Besides, the poison in his body still depended on Tang San's antidotes.
Tang San sat motionless, his gaze fixed ahead with a vacant intensity. Directly before him was the bronze cauldron used for refining medicines.
At that moment, the cauldron was suspended above the scorching Yang Spring, its bottom just barely touching the surface, using the spring's heat for baking. If it were an ordinary bronze cauldron, even the slightest contact with the blazing Yang Spring would have reduced it to molten copper. But this particular cauldron had been coated with a special herb prepared using the Frigid Yin Spring, granting it just enough resistance to withstand the Yang Spring's temperature. Combined with Tang San's own immunity to the spring's scorching heat, he was able to keep it under control.
Dugu Bo crouched down beside Tang San with some curiosity. "Little Monster, what are you concocting now?"
Tang San pressed his index finger to his lips in a hushing gesture, his eyes still locked intently on the cauldron.
Dugu Bo followed Tang San's gaze and saw that faint purple smoke was steadily seeping out from the gaps in the cauldron's sealed lid. He had long since grown accustomed to this sort of thing. Tang San frequently produced bizarre poisons that left even Dugu Bo impressed, though he absolutely refused to share certain recipes, much to Dugu Bo's frustration.
The purple smoke from the cauldron gathered and lingered above it, swaying faintly. Dugu Bo's nostrils twitched slightly—his entire body was steeped in poison arts, and his resistance to toxins was extraordinary, so he feared nothing. But he quickly realized that the purple smoke had no scent whatsoever, giving him no way to determine its ingredients. And yet, for reasons he couldn't explain, watching that wispy smoke curl upward sent a chill through his heart.
As a Soul Master whose power was built on poison, Dugu Bo understood exactly what this feeling was. It was an instinct unique to him—one that only surfaced when a toxin dangerous enough to threaten his life appeared. Just what kind of poison was this little monster refining that it could make even him feel threatened?
It should be noted that although Tang San had refined quite a few poisons over the past half year, and many of them had been ingenious creations that left Dugu Bo in awe, never before had there been a situation where even he felt genuine fear. Not daring to disturb him, Dugu Bo simply sat down beside Tang San and waited in silence.
Tang San's expression was graver than it had ever been, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on the cauldron and the purple smoke rising from it. As time passed, the smoke grew thinner and thinner, and at the same time, its color was changing—from purple to white, then from white to black, undergoing a strange and peculiar transformation.