"Cough! Well, speaking of which, I'm something of a victim myself."
Yu Zitong tried to win Han Li's sympathy from the very first sentence, doing his best to distance himself from his relationship with Doctor Mo. But seeing Han Li unmoved, he had no choice but to continue.
"I was originally a rogue cultivator..."
Yu Zitong honestly recounted his origins and the whole sequence of events in detail. Naturally, in his telling, he painted himself as a poor wretch who had been coerced by Doctor Mo and forced into complicity, dumping all the blame on the dead doctor.
Han Li certainly didn't believe everything he said, but combined with what Doctor Mo had once revealed, he could piece together roughly seventy or eighty percent of the truth.
Stripping away the likely falsehoods, Han Li gained a general understanding of how things had unfolded.
Everything Doctor Mo had told him in the past—about how he'd been ambushed and had set out to find a way to restore his power—was probably true. There'd been no reason to lie about that part.
But the earlier claim that he'd found a mysterious book in some hidden place, and from it discovered the method to restore his power—that was a complete fabrication. It was thanks to Yu Zitong that Doctor Mo had recovered, but it was also because of Yu Zitong that he'd been afflicted with the curse.
As it turned out, Yu Zitong had once been a member of a so-called cultivator clan. He had cultivated the Eternal Spring Technique to the seventh level, reaching a certain degree of proficiency, but his talent limited him from going further. The Eternal Spring Technique stalled, and he was unable to meet the requirements for formal Foundation Establishment.
A cultivator who hadn't achieved Foundation Establishment couldn't truly be called a cultivator and had no right to formally enter the world of immortal cultivation. Left with no other choice, Yu Zitong left his secluded home and ventured into the mortal world to gain experience, hoping he might break through his current bottleneck through a change of mental state.
If possible, finding some rare medicinal herbs to take back and refine into spirit pills would be even better. But he knew this hope was slim. Still, it was all a matter of luck—maybe his fortune would explode and he'd stumble upon a treasure.
Harboring this enticing ambition, Yu Zitong, barely in his twenties, entered what cultivators called the mortal world.
The outside world dazzled his eyes, and before long his already fragile resolve crumbled entirely. He became a frequent guest of some noble family, indulging in worldly luxury and splendor, and his desire to pursue immortal cultivation gradually faded.
For a disciple who'd abandoned the path halfway, his clan would naturally strike his name from the genealogy after a hundred years. From then on, his branch would be considered mortal, forbidden from contacting the main family—unless one of his descendants happened to possess outstanding talent for cultivation, in which case they'd be allowed to rejoin the clan.
If things had simply continued this way, Yu Zitong's path to immortality might have been closed, but he could still have expected a long life of wealth and comfort. While such outcomes were rare among pre-Foundation Establishment cultivators, they weren't unheard of, and it was nothing too extraordinary.
But whether it was heaven looking down on him or simply a turn of his luck, one day several years later, while idly wandering the streets and habitually browsing a medicine shop, he spotted something remarkably rare—a Blood Spirit Grass. The herb bore a strong resemblance to ordinary red oil, so the ignorant shopkeeper had placed them together.
Yu Zitong was elated. With this herb, breaking through his bottleneck suddenly seemed within reach, and his desire to cultivate stirred once more. He was about to pay for it on the spot.
But then complications arose. Another cultivator entered the shop, noticed the same herb, and naturally refused to let it go. The two immediately began quarreling over it.
The shopkeeper, sensing an opportunity, declared that whoever offered more silver would get the herb. Yu Zitong happened to have slightly more money on him, so the spirit herb ended up in his possession.
He wasn't stupid, though. Knowing the other party wouldn't let the matter rest, he fled his residence overnight and headed toward his clan's territory. He'd only made it halfway before his pursuer caught up, and naturally a fierce battle erupted.
The other's magical power far exceeded his own. Yu Zitong was beaten until he coughed up blood, but he couldn't bring himself to part with the herb he'd obtained. Gritting his teeth, he activated a life-saving talisman he'd brought from his clan—a forbidden technique of mutual destruction—and scared his opponent into retreating, allowing him to escape.
By then, he was seriously wounded. And it was in this dire state that he encountered Doctor Mo, who was also out searching for a remedy.
It was simply Yu Zitong's fate. Despite having wandered the mortal world for years, he had zero experience dealing with people from the jianghu. After discerning Doctor Mo's physical condition, he blurted out his observations and inadvertently let slip that he possessed rare medicine.
That single remark brought mortal danger crashing down on him. Doctor Mo was desperately searching for a cure with no success, and upon hearing that this person had medicine that could heal him, he naturally exhausted every means—pleading, begging, pestering.
But while Yu Zitong's so-called rare medicine wasn't as extraordinary as the Blood Spirit Grass, it was still refined from over a dozen precious herbs using cultivator methods at the cost of a great deal of vital energy. He had very little left. Wounded as he was, he guarded what remained even more jealously—how could he simply hand it over to a mortal he regarded as an insect?
When Doctor Mo found that even abject groveling couldn't procure the medicine, his humiliation curdled into rage, and murderous intent took root. He secretly followed Yu Zitong to a deserted place and administered a specially prepared poison from behind.
Normally, ordinary toxins shouldn't have been effective against Yu Zitong, but the poison Doctor Mo used was something of a mystery even to himself. Its potency was overwhelming, and it worked immediately.
Already gravely injured, Yu Zitong was further ravaged as the poison attacked his vitals, leaving him on the verge of death. Only then did Doctor Mo reveal himself, striding over confidently and rifling through his body for anything of value.
Seeing this, Yu Zitong finally understood everything—the full cause and effect. Consumed by fury, without a moment's hesitation, he unleashed the "Blood Arrow Soul Curse," converting all his vital blood into a single crimson curse and spraying it onto Doctor Mo's head. Then he abandoned his physical body with his Primordial Spirit, slipping silently out.
Only after his spirit left his body did Yu Zitong realize he'd been careless—he hadn't prepared a magical vessel to house himself in beforehand. Left with no alternative, he was forced to burrow into Doctor Mo's body to temporarily avoid the danger of his spirit dissipating.
Doctor Mo, drenched in blood, was startled at first, but upon finding nothing amiss, he dismissed it entirely.
Relying on his knowledge of medicines, he identified the pills from Yu Zitong's corpse and swallowed them with delight. Sure enough, the medicine cured him on the spot, and Doctor Mo's power was fully restored.
Ecstatic, Doctor Mo packed up everything he'd scavenged from the body—including a copy of the Eternal Spring Technique he couldn't make heads or tails of—and set off for Lan Prefecture to take his revenge and reclaim his former glory.
(End of chapter)