CH 37
#We Need to Throw Another Feast (2)
“The Heavenly Demon never taught his martial arts to anyone. That’s why everyone clings to the Young Sect Leader. So why the hell did he pass his internal energy to me? Don’t tell me he wants me to become the Young Sect Leader?”
Hah, what ridiculous nonsense. Utterly preposterous. A mere underling like me could never be considered for such a position.
Then, is it to watch me slowly go mad and die?
Well, it’s not entirely impossible—this is the Heavenly Demon, after all. He might have some twisted motive for amusement. But there’s no reason for him to torment his own subordinate, especially one meant to assist his own child.
That leaves only one possibility.
‘It’s a task. Find the key to healing your body.’
The Nine Orifices Body (九竅肢體).
A miraculous method to cure this damned body lies hidden within the Heavenly Demon’s vile demonic energy.
So……
If I find a way to survive, it’ll be the opportunity of a lifetime. If I don’t…… I’ll die.
“Sigh……”
Jang Yi-seo shuddered, a cold sweat dripping down his spine as he exhaled deeply.
He understood his current physical state all too well, but he couldn’t fathom how it related to curing the Nine Orifices Body.
‘What’s different between the old me and the current me?’
First, the impure internal energy he’d accumulated through crude techniques and wild herbs had vanished.
Though demonic in nature, this was the Heavenly Demon’s energy. In terms of purity and flawlessness, it could rival even the divine monks of Shaolin.
And one more thing.
‘A new quality has emerged.’
This was something he hadn’t fully grasped until unleashing the Thunderbolt Technique. But seeing his lightning qi turn pitch-black confirmed it.
His current internal energy undeniably carried an attribute.
A demonic attribute.
“Flawless demonic internal energy……”
He still couldn’t make sense of it. No—the very notion of a cure felt alien.
Back during his training in the Shadow Abyss, he’d once asked Elder Wei Ziliang, the Divine Physician of Life and Death, about a treatment.
The elder had replied:
‘A cure? There isn’t one. Resurrecting the dead would be easier. The Nine Orifices Body is a measure imposed by the impartial deities of heaven and earth to preserve balance in the mortal realm. So even if you resent it, do not defy it. That would be opposing the will of heaven.’
Truthfully, back then, defiance had driven him to swear he’d find a cure.
But over time, he’d come to realize the Divine Physician was right—a hundred times over.
The hole in his dantian.
Easy to say. But had anyone ever seen its true form?
The dantian couldn’t be touched or seen. It was a mist-shrouded universe, a vessel within the body.
How could one seal something that only existed as a sensation in one’s energy?
If it were flesh, you could at least stitch it shut.
“But how does the Heavenly Demon know a cure even the Divine Physician doesn’t?”
Another mystery. But did it matter? Even a quack’s lie became truth if the Heavenly Demon spoke it. That was the kind of being he was.
“Clutching an unsolvable riddle won’t change anything. I’ll take it slow. I still have a month. And right now, the urgent matter isn’t this—it’s settling debts.”
Jang Yi-seo’s eyes narrowed as three characters flashed in his mind.
The Slaughter Gang (屠殺幫).
They weren’t the type to let things end peacefully. And he had no intention of leaving obstacles to his mission unchecked.
Jang Yi-seo shot to his feet. When he opened the door and stepped outside the annex, he found Mao collapsed face-down in the corridor, lifeless.
The corner of his lips twitched. So he’d managed to break in. By the looks of it, he’d been thoroughly beaten unconscious.
But there was no need to worry.
Mao possessed the flawless Pure Yang energy of the Heavenly Yang Body. In terms of physical resilience, he ranked among the top three in the Demonic Sect.
‘Right. We’ll handle things one by one.’
Jang Yi-seo cast an approving glance at the back of Mao’s head before silently slipping away.
When Mao finally awoke much later……
“My stomach… I need to shit.”
Clutching his cramping gut, he barely hauled himself up.
Staggering like a reanimated corpse, he lurched forward, looking half-dead.
But as one of the famed Seven Princes of the World, he couldn’t disgrace himself by relieving himself just anywhere.
Summoning his last shreds of dignity, he hobbled toward the outhouse. Just as he reached the final stretch……
“What the…?!”
Kung! Zhuge Guilong’s second masterpiece lay in wait.
A narrow path flanked by 108 wooden statues carved with the faces of the Four Heavenly Kings.
A single touch would trigger a gear-like chain reaction, unleashing a barrage of attacks from 108 terracotta warriors—a hellish arena.
Fight if you dare.
He’d stumbled into the Path of 108 Torments.
“You fucking bastards—! Ughhh!”
Disaster strikes when least expected.
Mao’s suffering began today.
*
The Drunken Immortal Pavilion, Moonlight Village’s premier inn.
Though early, Moonlight Lake buzzed with crowds, and the pavilion’s lanterns glowed vibrantly.
On the coveted eighth floor, where guests dreamed of dining, he sat as always.
The true master of the Drunken Immortal Pavilion.
Jang Yi-seo pored over the account books with the gravity of studying martial arts manuals.
“The losses aren’t too bad, considering we closed for days. Well done.”
“Yes. As a token of gratitude, we served each guest a glass of Daughter’s Red (女兒紅).”
“Daughter’s Red?!”
Jang Yi-seo paled. For good reason—it was the priciest wine in stock. To a miser like him, this was a dagger to the heart. But Jang Yi-seo wasn’t just a miser—he was a shrewd one.
“A glass of Daughter’s Red… Its mild strength leaves a lingering warmth, and the fruity aroma whets the appetite. Guests couldn’t resist ordering more. Plus, its steep price usually keeps it gathering dust in storage. The cost stings, but it’s a masterstroke for prestige. Well done.”
