Wormwood

Although they knew he was a strong man, these people did not know Abner.

He went to the territory with his wife more than ten years ago and remained unknown for many years. The pharmacist glanced at him and judged his level.

He was just a C-level bloodline, but he relied on the fact that he was one of the few pharmacists in Ya'an City and didn't appreciate it at all.

"Why, you want to make trouble here? If a fight really breaks out, the Earl will not let you go. You know, even the medicine used in the Earl's Mansion was made by me. No one else can produce such a good effect except me."

His words sounded arrogant but true. Bloodline people value combat ability, and few are willing to be pharmacists, let alone those with suitable plant bloodline.

Abner said calmly: "Can you say it again?"

"If you hit me, the Earl will never let you go!"

"Say that again?"

"you--"

Before he finished speaking, the man punched the pharmacist in the face. The latter's head buzzed and a stream of hot liquid flowed down his nose involuntarily. He covered his nose, shocked and angry.

"you...!"

"Yes, I did."

Abner flexed his wrist and sneered, "You said it twice, right? I beat you once, and then drag you to Ya'an and let my wife beat you again. You should have no objection, right?"

The friends who were visiting hurriedly stopped him and said with a dry laugh: "He just has a bad temper, he doesn't have any bad intentions."

"Besides, I'll beat you too."

My friend immediately fell silent and hid aside tremblingly. Some of the stronger ones stood in front of the pharmacist with ugly faces.

"You are going too far."

Abner laughed and said, "You guys want to play a group fight?"

A faint blue light emanated from the right half of Abner's body, outlining her slender and charming figure. Her long silk-like hair fluttered lightly, and her smooth, white skin was as smooth as milk. She pressed her cheek against her husband's arm, and her talking eyes looked at everyone, and finally fell on the face of the chestnut-haired boy.

"What's wrong? Is my child being bullied outside?"

Faierel's voice was gentle, and the cyan-blue light continued to spread, outlining countless equally familiar and graceful figures.

The murderous and cruel Phairel holding a whip. The innocent and carefree Phairel. The kind-hearted Phairel with a slightly bulging belly...

There were more than a dozen Fayrels from every stage of Abner's memory. Their bloodline ability was to call each other, whether in the present or in the past.

The man put his arms around his wife's waist, stood in front of his son, and looked at the pale-faced pharmacists with a tone as gentle as a spring breeze.

"Do you want to fight one-on-one or in a group?"

The man's face suddenly became empty. He looked at the pharmacists who were hiding away. His face was whiter than snow. Abner looked at Mason and said, "What do you say, son?"

Mason said obediently, "Didn't the teacher say that we should spank him twice? Dad and Mom each spank him once, that's fair."

If one mother hits him once, then dozens of other mothers will hit him dozens of times. Isn't that reasonable?

Abner's eyes flashed with satisfaction, and he smiled and said, "You heard what my son said."

The pharmacist stepped back subconsciously: "You can't do this! I can make a potion to relieve pollution, it must be made based on my blood sunflower-"

"So what? My son doesn't need it now."

Abner approached step by step, his fist magnified infinitely in his sight, and he punched the pharmacist in the left eye, his tone gloomy and crazy. "Mr. Pharmacist has been praised too highly, I guess he has forgotten one thing a long time ago-"

"Don't mess with the crazy!"

Amid the tragic cries, Mason silently closed the door, blocking the curious gazes of people outside.

After Abner vented his anger, the pharmacist lay on the ground with a bruised face and swollen nose, his body twitching from time to time. Even though they were both bloodline people, there was still a huge difference in strength between him and those who had fought on the battlefield.

"Teacher, are you okay?"

As he felt dizzy, the chestnut-haired boy squatted in front of him, his expression full of integrity and compassion.

The pharmacist felt a pain in his bones when he saw him, and his face turned pale: "Don't call me teacher..."

He would never beat his teacher's disciples like this!

"How can I do this? You said with your own mouth that you would accept me as your disciple as long as I passed the test. You can't break your promise."

Mason helped the man up affectionately, and his words and expression were sincere. The pharmacist's lips kept trembling, as if he was moved to tears and couldn't help wanting to say something.

The chestnut-haired boy held him down, his voice soft but firm: "I know what you mean. You should take a good rest first. There is no rush to teach me. Your health is more important."

Everyone was confused. From this scene, it seemed that the boy was a good kid. Could it be that they were all mistaken, and the guy who just yelled at his parents to beat up the pharmacist and the boy who was asking about his well-being were not the same person?

Under the strange gazes of the crowd, the pharmacist's face turned as white as snow, and he roared in anger.

Don't let this guy fool you guys! He's a jerk!

The boy's hand happened to press on the wound under his clothes, causing his face to twist in pain. He wanted to loudly expose the other person's true identity, but every time he opened his mouth, he would be ruthlessly pressed back by the other person, leaving only his body covered in wounds.

Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!

This guy did it on purpose!

The pharmacist was furious but could do nothing about it. Abner had deliberately left his power in his wound, which not only prevented it from healing, but also caused him to suffer so much pain that he could neither live nor die if he moved.

The old woman, who knew pharmacists very well, seemed to have discovered something. A look of fear flashed across Mason's face, and then she hastily retracted it.

The truth is usually hidden among powerful people. As long as there is a strong backer, even a newcomer can become the center of attention.

The chestnut-haired boy seemed like a truly good disciple. He personally escorted his teacher back to his room to rest and sent off his friends who came to visit. Finally, he waved to the old woman in the corner and said with a smile, "Come here."

The old woman came over hesitantly and asked humbly, "Sir, do you have any instructions?"

"Teacher, you need to rest well during this period and not let anyone disturb you. Come with us to the Earl's Palace and stay for a few days."

The old woman's eyes flashed with confusion: ".But..."

She could tell at a glance that the man was seriously injured. Abner had hit his joints, and he would be unable to get out of bed for at least a week. During this period, he needed someone to take care of him. What would the pharmacist do if there was no one at home?

"Don't worry, the teacher is an excellent bloodline person, he will definitely not fall down because of such a small matter."

The boy has a gentle and ordinary appearance. He is not as masculine as his father, nor as graceful and pretty as his mother. However, he is very pleasing to the eye.

The glass-like eyes looked at her sincerely, making people want to believe. The old woman swallowed her saliva and keenly realized what the other party wanted to do.

"Okay, okay."

"That's great. The teacher is resting inside. Let's go and don't disturb him."

The boy held her with one hand and his father with the other and walked out, not even forgetting to close the door for the teacher. A shadow enveloped the entire room, and the pharmacist lying on the bed finally came over and shouted loudly.

"Where are you? You're not really going to leave me here, are you? Come back here! Damn bitch, I've wasted all this time raising you, hurry up and get me some medicine!"

The heart-wrenching sound echoed in the room, but no one responded in the darkness.

......

Abner had been on the front lines for a long time, and one of the lessons he learned was that it is better to strike first.

The so-called evildoers complain first means that they tell Ya'an everything before the pharmacist arrives.

The Count felt something was wrong when he saw the two of them walk in together, and his face turned even darker after hearing everything. He tried to hold back, but in the end he couldn't help it.

"I'm looking for a teacher for your son, not asking you to beat up my pharmacist!"

Abner argued: "The pharmacist you found is so useless that he actually wanted to beat up my son. He didn't even look at whose son he was!"

"I shouldn't have agreed to your request."

The corners of Ya'an's mouth twitched and he rubbed his temples helplessly.

It was common for people of the bloodline to have problems. He knew that the pharmacist had a bad personality, but he didn't expect that he would directly conflict with Mason and his son.

It was too late to blame him now. He sighed and said, "Forget it. What kind of teacher do you want? I'll help you find one."

The boy blinked his eyes. "Hasn't it been decided? I have already made an agreement with the pharmacist, and he has agreed to be my teacher."

Count Yaan was a little surprised: "Do you really want to be his disciple?"

"Violence is useless. If you want to destroy a person, you have to destroy his pride from the bottom of his heart. Let him live in the shadow of another genius for the rest of his life." Mason smiled shyly. "This is the second time I've met such a person. I'm a little excited when I think about it."

The first time he met someone who wanted to kill him, he had already given up the dark and joined the light and started calling him ancestor. If Shaken knew what he was thinking, he would definitely defend himself: Even if they are all villains, they are not in the same league at all! This guy is not even worthy of carrying his shoes!

Abner patted the boy's head proudly, saying, "You are worthy of being my son."

The other party looked at him tenderly: "It's all because of my father's good teaching."

"......"

Ya'an was completely speechless about these two guys.

It's not that people of the same family are like one another, this is just a madman giving birth to a little madman. Why was he so blind as to agree to help them?

Yaan: "You guys decide for yourselves, but you are not allowed to attack the pharmacist anymore. The Earl's Palace still needs his medicine."

Abner and Mason looked at each other and said in unison with a smile: "Yes——"

Come on, if these two people had listened to him, this wouldn't have happened.

The count looked at the two men's backs as they left the house, and a feeling of sadness suddenly arose in his heart.

After they left the house, Abner patted Mason on the shoulder and said, "With the Earl's words, that guy won't take revenge on you in the future. I can only help you up to this point, and you'll have to rely on yourself from now on."

No one of blood can grow up under meticulous care. A father's care can only protect once. If Mason really wants to make the pharmacist surrender, he has to rely on himself.

The boy smiled and nodded: "I will try my best."

There was one less person at the door than when they entered. Mason looked around and finally found the person. The old woman seemed to be afraid of the wide open space and shrank into the corner of the corridor on her own initiative, like a mushroom afraid of the light.

The boy walked up to her, thinking that not having a name was not a big deal, he had to know how to call her.

"What do pharmacists usually call you?"

The old woman hesitated and stammered, "Trash, idiot, garbage, bitch, ugly, useless guy..."

Every time she called out a name, the boy's expression grew colder. When she finished, his expression became extremely gloomy.

"I'm starting to regret not throwing more punches. Just kidding, those aren't the names that belong to you. If you don't have a name, let me give you one."

"Wormwood, how about that name?"

The old woman was startled.

She knew the name. It was a kind of herb that grew on snowy mountains at very high altitudes. It was tough and bitter, and was an indispensable raw material for many epidemic medicines.

Does she have the right to have this name? No one has ever given her a name, even her biological parents have abandoned her. The boy looked at her kindly, and she could almost imagine how he saw her.

The white hair is gray and the old age is embarrassing.

She was so different from him that she was like a pile of mud, not worth his attention. She was not grateful for the name he gave her. The person who feeds the wild cat gave it a name. Does that mean the cat has a home?

No, no, it was just the other party's momentary kindness. But the old woman was already very good at accepting this kindness. Just like a real wormwood, it has experienced wind and snow all its life, its name is bitter, and its heart is bitter too. The leaves catch some raindrops from the sky, even if it is someone else's momentary whim, it actually feels sweet.

The old woman, no, Wormwood was silent for a moment, then whispered, "Thank you."