Chapter 6. What kind of medicine would lovers in a relationship use? ...

Wugou Pavilion

The blood on Yao Jin's palm had not yet dried; it had congealed into a clump, arranged crookedly on his palm, with layers of bloodstains spreading around it, which inexplicably made people feel terrified.

Fortunately, the blood wasn't hers, otherwise she might have been one step closer to death!

Yao Jinwei patted his chest.

The pain subsided without her noticing, and she focused intently on the words in her hand, copying them down with a pen.

—Don't meet with her.

He might know who you are.

—Resurrect 'it'.

She, he, it?

What's the meaning?

'It' can't be 'He', can it?

Stop, this isn't funny, Yao Jin suddenly stopped thinking.

This isn't some kind of infinite flow supernatural novel; this is a fantasy world!

Therefore, "she" should refer to Leng Dandan, and the statement "don't meet with Leng Dandan" should be correct.

After all, Leng Dandan was his ex, a destined nemesis.

But who is this "he" referring to? What is his identity? Is he a time traveler?

And what about this last 'it'? Who, who will be resurrected?

It's completely baffling...

Yao Jin's pen touched "her" for a moment, then touched "her" again, and finally put a question mark after the word "it" that he had copied.

She pondered for a moment and finally came to a conclusion.

It's obvious that the reason for not seeing Leng Dandan is probably because the other party knows her identity and wants to use this as leverage to blackmail her into handing over Xiao Daojun. Therefore, the two "he"s mentioned above should be "she".

Then the next one is probably the misleading option.

After all, this little thing always comes out of nowhere, and now it's issued something that looks like a task, so it's hard to say if there's a trap.

Yao Jingang concluded that the blood-red characters on his palm suddenly cracked open. The characters, which were originally barely considered neat, lost their horrifying quality due to the dark twisting motion, and inexplicably showed a look of furious embarrassment.

Actually, there wasn't much blood that splattered out. The extent of the splattering was precisely controlled, ensuring only a frightening effect, but not a single extra drop was spilled.

The blood-red characters began to emit a faint, invisible demonic aura, swirling around them in wisps.

Gradually, the demonic energy turned into a viscous black mist, wriggling and rising as if it were alive, wrapping around Yao Jin's wrist and forming a thin chain.

They bared their fangs and claws and coiled around it, opening their gaping maws!

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door—"knock knock knock".

The emerging black mist instantly retracted into the palm of the hand, obediently disappearing along with the blood-red words.

"Who?!" Yao Jin immediately pulled out the paper, crumpled it up, and put it back in the hidden compartment. She glanced at Xiao Juan, who was about to wake up, and sighed inwardly.

It probably won't work tonight.

“It’s me,” Meng Ji replied from outside the door.

"Okay, coming right away." In the midst of the conversation, Yao Jin had already tidied everything up. After all possible traces had disappeared, her gaze suddenly fell upon something.

Snacks!

Yao Jin let out a mournful cry.

"Madam?" Meng Ji's voice rose slightly.

Yao Jin looked at the candied fruit jar with a pained expression, not in the mood to open the door. "Come in."

Like an ancient vampire who can only enter after receiving permission from his master, Meng Ji pushed open the door to the bedroom where he had lived for hundreds of years after receiving permission from his wife. However, as soon as the door opened, his nose twitched slightly. After smelling the lingering bloody scent in the air, he strode into the room.

"Madam, what's wrong?" he asked.

The small table faces the doorway, and you can easily see the girl frowning as she holds something; she looks really pitiful.

Meng Ji's heart tightened, and he quickened his pace. "Madam, are you injured?"

"No," Yao Jin said sadly, holding the lid of the candied fruit jar. "It's my jar lid that's broken."

After receiving confirmation from Yao Jin that he was unharmed, Meng Ji breathed a sigh of relief, a faint smile appearing in his eyes.

He knelt on the prayer mat and took her hand. "It's broken, so why are you still holding it? These porcelain shards are sharp; you might hurt your hands."

Yao Jin was still in pain. "So what if I'm hurt? My heart will break along with it."

If the jar of candied fruit is left without a lid, the candied fruit inside will be exposed to air for a long time and will not taste good.

Just like a butterfly losing its wings, or a kitten losing its dried fish, it is very important.

Meng Ji frowned slightly, pulled out the two broken pieces of porcelain, and said, "Nonsense, it's just an inanimate object. We can just replace it with a new one later."

"How can it be an inanimate object? It's my precious treasure." Yao Jin refused to accept this and silently challenged Meng Ji, not letting him take it away.

Little did she know that Meng Ji's lips tightened slightly as she spoke those words.

Although the lady had been holding the broken porcelain for a long time, he felt that the sharp shard might cut her palm. So he stopped talking and continued to remove the unsightly shard.

A swordsman who can hold a sword steadily can naturally also pick up a shard of porcelain.

With a push and a pull, the hand moved with incredible dexterity, even faster than hand seals. Seeing that it was about to be taken away, Yao Jin panicked, "Little Daoist, what's wrong with you today?"

She couldn't understand how such a seemingly gentle action could carry such an undeniable force.

Meng Ji, afraid of hurting her, stopped what he was doing. "Give it to me."

"I'm going to die, Little Daoist, are you just going to snatch it like that?" What was originally a harmless matter has become a stalemate due to the struggle between the two.

Porcelain shards are easy to cut the skin, let alone when they are used by a skilled craftsman. They are pulled at Meng Ji's fingers like knives, deeply embedded in his slender finger bones.

The pain of flesh being torn apart erupted instantly, and a strong smell of blood filled the air.

"Heavens!" Yao Jin immediately pulled his hand back. "I'm going to die, Little Daoist! Your bones are practically showing, why aren't you letting go?!"

She took the other person's hand with heartache and leaned closer to look, asking, "Are you in pain?"

In fact, this injury was hardly a problem for Meng Ji. The pain from the God-Slaying Whip on her back, or the near-abuse from her father during her childhood, were insignificant compared to the pain she felt. Yet, the girl held it in her slender arms as if it were a precious treasure, her eyes filled with nothing but heartache.

Meng Ji then stared intently into those eyes.

Those eyes were truly beautiful, filled with tenderness, guilt, and a wealth of emotions, like hundreds of flower buds in full bloom, utterly sincere.

But when Meng Ji saw Yao Jin's delicate eyelashes trembling slightly because she was afraid and felt sorry for him, he felt a dull ache in his heart.

It was strange, but very pleasant.

Yao Jin was still annoyed and flustered. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have taken it from you. Your hand is used to holding a sword, reading, and so many other things. How did it get injured..."

Even someone with little cultivation knowledge knows how important a sword cultivator's hands are. Moreover, the young Daoist Master has endless tasks to handle and countless documents to review every day; under such circumstances, hands, especially the right hand, become even more crucial.

The young girl, who was clearly as beautiful as the queen of flowers, was now willing to set aside her haughty demeanor and gently caress his rough, calloused hands.

Yes, those hands had developed thin calluses on the tiger's mouth from years of wielding a sword. Now that the calluses had been cut off, the tenderest layer of skin and flesh could be easily seen.

Pain breeds itching; the pain carries the warmth of the lady's fingertips, like poison mixed with honey, bringing pleasure.

Meng Ji's Adam's apple bobbed. He suddenly wished the shard had penetrated deeper, ideally shaving off a piece of his finger bone, so that his wife could hold the bone in her hands, frantically and helplessly pleading for his help.

She should only look at him, only him.

"It hurts." Meng Ji pressed the wound close to Yao Jin's fingertip without showing any emotion, and whispered again, "It hurts a lot..."

"Does it hurt?" Yao Jin became even more careful, lowering her face and gently blowing on the head. "How about this? Is it any better?"

If anyone else were present, they would probably laugh their heads off at this scene—this breath isn't Guanyin's precious vase, nor is it the celestial breath exhaled by a fairy, so how could it be good?

This kind of approach to coaxing children is far too naive.

But the girl continued to blow, and the warm breath became damp, lingering on her fingertips and seeping into her bones.

Meng Ji blinked lightly, "Much better."

He subtly raised his wrists slightly.

"Yes, there's medicine!" Yao Jin suddenly remembered something and abruptly released the other's hand, which was trying to beg for mercy again. "Right, wound medicine."

During the wedding, someone seemed to have given her a bottle of medicine, saying it could cure wounds. Yao Jin quickly got up to get it.

Amidst the clattering of footsteps, Yao Jin quickly spotted the healing potions on the shelf.

Her eyes lit up, she grabbed the white jade bottle, and ran back in small steps.

The medicine potion was shaped like a white jade vase, with a long, narrow spout and a small, plump body. However, the entire vase was crafted to be handled and admired, exquisitely made and clearly very valuable.

Items that are sent to Wugou Pavilion must be of the highest quality.

The medicine for injuries is made from rare and precious materials, some of which are now impossible to find. Ordinary cultivators who are not knowledgeable about them would never have even heard of them.

However, while the medicine was effective, its uses were rather improper.

This can be seen from its characteristics.

Transparent and sticky.

It also lacks the strong smell of ordinary wound medicine, instead having a gentle, silent effect.

As soon as Yao Jin uncorked the bottle, he felt something was amiss. He then examined the white jade bottle and suddenly caught a peculiar smell—like over-fermented flour with a slightly fishy odor.

"Hehehe..." A laugh rang out, like silver bells striking jade, emerging from the snake-patterned skin of the swaying gold waist.

In a daze, Yao Jin felt something cold and chilly press against the side of her neck.

Yao Jin, alert, asked, "What's that sound?"

But apart from Xiao Juan, who was half-awake but not yet fully awake, there was no one else in the room.

Meng Ji's gaze was fixed on the clean bottle, as if he was pondering the origin of the medicine. Upon hearing this, he suddenly looked up and asked, "A sound, what kind of sound?"

"It's me, the word on your palm." — The laughter suggests the girl isn't very old.

But compared to the smaller words that were still somewhat manageable, this sound was like a death warrant.

What kind of nonsense is this palm writing? How can it even talk?

Cold sweat broke out on Yao Jin's forehead.

Even more terrifying was that the girl's voice continued, but only she could hear it—[Don't just stand there! Quickly apply medicine to your husband. If you wait any longer, that hand might not be able to hold onto the lamp.]

"What light?" Yao Jin realized he had misheard.

“It’s the ×× Lamp.” Meng Ji took the medicine without hesitation, and the snake-like demonic pattern on his chest suddenly appeared. “The ×× Lamp is the sect’s most treasured artifact, and it has existed since ancient times.”

"There are not many magical artifacts passed down from the ancient times. Because of their powerful spiritual energy, each artifact can be used as a stabilizing force. Therefore, as soon as they are born, they will be coveted and snatched by the other major sects."

Information about the Lotus Lantern was kept extremely secret; even Meng Ji only learned of it after becoming the head of Buzhou Mountain.

Meng Ji stroked the slender porcelain vase with his fingers, but his gaze was fixed on his heart, where a faint red light was emanating from. He saw it.

"Nowadays, besides the ×× lamp, there is also the ×× whip on Buzhou Mountain." Meng Jining looked at the light and continued speaking without finishing her sentence.

But this time his voice was shattered by a sharp scream, and it became a cryptic message in Yao Jin's ears.

"...××× lamp... Zhenshan ××××... ×××××× ancient times..."

A few scattered words fell like shattered ice, while the rest were swallowed up by the mournful cries.

Yao Jin fell silent.

She was certain she wasn't mishearing; her ear was probably injured.

It seems I need to find time to see a doctor, Yao Jin thought to himself.

The girl who had spoken earlier seemed even more speechless, remaining silent for a long time before letting out some grinding teeth sounds. She sounded somewhat exasperated?

—No matter what, you must remember to revive 'it'.

What's with all this talk about "it," "she," and "he"? It's all so mystical.

Yao Jin pursed his lips and ignored her.

"Where did you hear that, Madam? Was it the voice you mentioned?" Meng Ji suddenly raised his eyes and stared intently at Yao Jin. "What else did Madam hear?"

Yao Jin was stunned for a moment, not expecting the young Daoist to be so perceptive.

Is this a case of "the process doesn't matter, but the result is always right"? At this moment, Yao Jin wished he could crawl into Meng Ji's brain to see why he was so smart.

But she would never admit it. Even if she was stupid, she knew there was something wrong with that voice. "What did I say that made Little Daoist think so much..."

"What sound? I was clearly talking about medicine." Although it was a bit of a farce, Yao Jin couldn't think of a better explanation in such a short time. "Yes, I was talking about applying medicine."

She snatched the medicine from Xiao Daojun's hand, ignoring the strange feeling, and poured the medicine out, smearing it all over Meng Ji's palm.

Not long after the medicine was applied, Yao Jin, feeling guilty, started making small talk, asking, "Where did you go just now? Why are you here at this hour?"

Meng Ji: "I went to Ruoshui Pavilion. My master is looking for me."

"Master? You have a master?" Yao Jin thought that Xiao Daojun was born so powerful, but it turns out that he has a master.

Meng Ji nodded and explained to her, "My master is Leng Dandan's father, and the current head of the Buzhou Mountain sect."

As they were talking, the medicine was finished being applied.

Yao Jin felt a bit hot and couldn't hear Xiao Daojun's words very clearly. He only felt that the other party's mouth was opening and closing as if he was chanting scriptures.

"It feels like ants are crawling all over my body." Yao Jin scratched his skin while picking up the bottle to read the instructions. "This medicine does seem a bit strange?"

Unfortunately, the medicine bottle didn't contain that substance, but there was a line of small characters on the bottom. Yao Jin blushed and read it aloud, "Tender Affection Dew?"

Although I don't know what it is, the name does seem quite vulgar.

Moreover, with the bottle opening facing the ground, the gelatinous wound medicine inside is trailing a long, thin thread.

The light shines through, revealing a shimmering pool of water.

Yao Jin felt that she was probably sick. She patted her face and said, "This is not a drug to enhance sexual pleasure, is it?"

She was in a daze and didn't notice that Meng Ji, who was beside her, looked thoughtful after hearing her words.

Meng Ji stared at Yao Jin, "How did Madam know the purpose of this medicine?"

Yao Jin didn't hear the almost accusatory tone. Her head was spinning, and a burning sensation suddenly spread from the soles of her feet. "Huh, why do I feel a little dizzy..."