Half an incense stick later.
Lian Yunzhi sat on the vine-woven chair with an ashen face, while Mu Cheng, who had regained his senses, was tightly bound by the Silver Silk Vine in a five-point harness and forced to half-kneel before Lian Yunzhi.
Though one sat and the other knelt, both looked equally disheveled.
Mu Cheng wore only a tattered pair of undergarments. The iron-hard Silver Silk Vine bound him firmly to the ground with such force that it seemed ready to tear through his skin and flesh. A blood-red handprint marked his face, each finger mark clearly discernible.
Lian Yunzhi was no better off. The robe he had casually thrown on was now covered in bloodstains, its collar and sleeves torn out of shape. Bruised fingerprints marred his wrists and ankles—painless, but terrifying to behold.
Worst of all was his right index finger.
A deep bite mark, visible to the bone, scarred the joint of his right index finger. Even the finest Ointment could not heal it immediately. The area was bruised black and badly swollen, completely numb—if Lian Yunzhi had not reacted quickly, that waste of a man, Mu Cheng, would have bitten off his finger and swallowed it whole!
Just thinking of that scene made Lian Yunzhi ache and seethe with rage, his entire body trembling.
“Sorry,” Mu Cheng rasped.
Lian Yunzhi was furious. He sneered, “Do you think you’re still the Mu Family’s Proud Son of Heaven? What’s the value in an apology from a waste like you?”
Mu Cheng fell silent for a moment, then said, “Perhaps you could cut off my finger.”
Lian Yunzhi scoffed, “What use would your finger be to me? I’d only dirty my sword cutting it off!”
Mu Cheng said no more.
He knelt quietly in place, head slightly bowed. He no longer resembled the Mu Family Young Master from eight years ago, who acted on whims and looked down on everyone, nor the eerie demon from his nightmare moments ago, with a smile on his lips and mad words and deeds.
He looked like a silent, abandoned old city.
But Lian Yunzhi felt no pity for him. The mere thought that this man had consumed his Immortal Pill made his heart clench in pain.
A hundred times worse than his finger!
Unable to vent his inner frustration, Lian Yunzhi kicked Mu Cheng’s shoulder hard again, sending him sprawling to the ground!
Mu Cheng struggled, seemingly trying to rise, but the Silver Silk Vine held him fast. He lay there like an overturned silkworm chrysalis, unable to move.
Lian Yunzhi had no intention of letting him off easily. He stepped down from the vine chair and summoned his long sword. The icy, sharp tip parted Mu Cheng’s disheveled hair, tracing slowly over his nose bridge, lips, throat, and chest before pausing at his abdomen.
Mu Cheng did not move.
As if even if Lian Yunzhi sliced open his belly, he would have no complaints.
Lian Yunzhi truly despised this attitude of his.
Acting so noble! When he was nothing but a waste!
“You ate my Immortal Pill,” Lian Yunzhi prodded Mu Cheng’s abdomen with the long sword, gritting his teeth as he said sinisterly, “How about I cut open your belly and see if it’s still in there?”
Mu Cheng froze for a moment, as if not understanding what Lian Yunzhi meant.
“Playing dumb?” Lian Yunzhi spat hatefully. “Haven’t you noticed your body has recovered a lot? You’re no longer a complete waste! That’s because you ate the Immortal Pill I just obtained from the secret realm!”
Mu Cheng’s eyes widened slightly, his breathing halting for an instant. He immediately closed his eyes, held his breath, and circulated his energy to check his condition.
…Indeed, his shattered bones had healed, his severed meridians had reconnected, and even his pierced Dantian showed signs of recovery.
This was no ordinary pill’s effect—calling it an “Immortal Pill” was no exaggeration.
But how had he consumed this “Immortal Pill”?
Mu Cheng immediately recalled the bottle of Spirit Replenishing Pills he had swallowed… One of them had indeed tasted different…
Looking at Lian Yunzhi’s puffed-up, angry face, he instantly understood the whole story.
Mu Cheng opened his mouth but did not know what to say. In this situation, whether he thanked or apologized, Lian Yunzhi would only get angrier.
“…From now on, I am at your disposal,” Mu Cheng said.
“At my disposal?” Lian Yunzhi laughed as if he had heard a joke. “Even with the Immortal Pill, you’re still a waste without a spiritual root who can’t cultivate. What use would you be to me? Washing my clothes?”
A dull ache throbbed at the base of his spine where his spiritual root had been extracted. Mu Cheng lowered his eyes and said nothing more.
Seeing Mu Cheng’s head bowed like a dog without a home finally eased Lian Yunzhi’s heart somewhat.
However…
Lian Yunzhi narrowed his eyes, recalling the sticky, icy power from Mu Cheng’s nightmare state that had sealed his every acupoint, leaving him unable to mobilize even a shred of spiritual power.
…What was that?
The power of the “Immortal Pill”?
Unlikely.
Lian Yunzhi suddenly remembered what Fang Tianxin had said: “…Mu Cheng… has something eerie about him. Quite a few people who watched the commotion here yesterday went home and had nightmares…”
Could that be Mu Cheng’s own power? After all, he had once possessed the Myriad Absorption Spiritual Root—a genius who might differ from ordinary people in some way.
In that light, Mu Cheng was not entirely useless. If that power could be fully used for his own purposes…
Lian Yunzhi’s eyes darted as he cleared his throat lightly. “You say you’re at my disposal, so we should establish a contract. Otherwise, how could I trust you? What if you stab me in the back?”
Mu Cheng replied, “You’re a cultivator, I’m a mortal. I can’t hurt you.”
Lian Yunzhi countered, “That’s not certain. Just now, you were possessed, I got scared and forgot to cast a spell, and you still bit my finger.”
Lian Yunzhi cleverly concealed the fact that he had been completely unable to use spiritual power at the time.
Mu Cheng’s memory of the incident was hazy, and he did not doubt Lian Yunzhi’s words.
After a long silence, he closed his eyes and rasped, “…I can sign a Master-Servant Contract with you.”
Once signed, a servant could harbor no killing intent toward the master, or they would suffer a fate worse than death, torn apart from within.
Moreover, the master could punish the servant through the contract.
