Medical Sage

”Millennium Spiritual Milk... Millennium Spiritual Milk...” Chen Fei, Young Master Chen, stared intently at the pool of Millennium Spiritual Milk, murmuring the words in a strange tone. His gaze then lifted abruptly, shifting to the statue in the center of the pool. ”Is this statue actually being soaked in Millennium Spiritual Milk?”

The thought alone sent his mind into turmoil, and a deep sense of unease began to grow in his heart. He wasn’t a fool. If a treasure like Millennium Spiritual Milk was used to soak this statue, then what could the statue possibly be? His gaze sharpened as he began to examine it carefully, his expression turning solemn.

In the very center of the pool of Millennium Spiritual Milk stood a bronze-like statue. It depicted a young man with styled, messy hair and a slight, rebellious smile. While his face wasn’t conventionally handsome, the expression made him inexplicably intimidating. Even though it was just a statue, Chen Fei had the eerie feeling that it was slowly emanating a restrained, terrifying aura. Not only that, but about a meter in front of the statue, he saw a row of fist-sized characters carved into the ground: Zhen... Jingkong?

”Zhen Jingkong?” Chen Fei muttered the name aloud. Even from a fair distance, the three characters—which he presumed to be a name—sent a strange tremor through him. As he stared, lost in a daze, he could almost feel an intimidating Formation Dao emanating from the large character ’Zhen’.

”The one who carved these words must have been a master of the Formation Dao. Otherwise, there’s no way the characters would contain such a powerful sense of Formation,” Chen Fei said, his face paling. Given his own level, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what kind of expert could have left such an inscription. He felt as if a venomous snake had its eyes on him—a cold, deeply unsettling sensation.

”Has someone finally come? Alas!”

Just then, a sigh so cold it chilled him to the bone echoed in his ears. The eyes of the statue in the center of the pool seemed to flicker. Instantly, a plume of ice-blue fog billowed out from the statue’s Heavenly Spirit Cap, causing the air temperature to plummet by dozens of degrees as it coalesced into the face of a young man.

Its facial features—eyes, ears, nose, and mouth—were an identical match to the statue, as if cast from the same mold. But this face was exceptionally cold, and its gaze was so frigid it sent a shiver through Chen Fei’s very heart.

”Who... who are you?” Chen Fei stammered, staring at the ghostly face.

”Me?” the ghostly face replied, its tone utterly frigid. ”I am Zhen Jingkong. You should understand now, shouldn’t you?”

The answer made Chen Fei, Young Master Chen, freeze on the spot. His face turned deathly pale in an instant. ”You... You’re not dead?”

His gaze darted back to the characters carved into the ground: ’Zhen Jingkong’. His throat felt tight, making it difficult to even swallow, and a bitter expression flooded his face. He had been mentally prepared for trouble, but he never imagined this. He had gambled and lost spectacularly. This person wasn’t dead... and it seemed he had been waiting for someone to arrive.

”Young man, your luck is quite poor. Alas!”

Another one of those heart-chilling, icy sighs echoed. The ice-blue, ghostly face had already dissolved back into a mist and, with a WHOOSH, shot directly at Chen Fei.

It happened too suddenly. More importantly, the mist moved with blinding speed. With Chen Fei’s current level of strength, he had no time to even think of dodging. The mist entered the center of his brow with a soft POOF.

His body collapsed heavily to the ground, his face contorting in agony. ”Possession!?” he ground out through clenched teeth, his features twisting grotesquely. A note of pure despair crept into his voice. He knew exactly what possession meant. If the other party succeeded, he, Chen Fei, would be completely and utterly erased from the world.

”Give up,” Zhen Jingkong’s flat, indifferent voice echoed in his mind. ”At my zenith, my Divine Sense and soul strength reached the Perfection Peak of a Foundation Establishment True Person. The strongest you seem to be is the Qi Refining Sixth Layer. What do you have to resist me with? There is no point in struggling.”

Possession was simply a contest of Divine Sense and soul strength. Zhen Jingkong’s power had once reached the staggering heights of the Perfection Peak of a Foundation Establishment True Person. Chen Fei, on the other hand, was merely at the Peak of the Qi Refining Fifth Layer, perhaps the Sixth Layer. A hundred years ago, a cultivator like Chen Fei would have been nothing but an ant in his eyes, completely incapable of putting up a fight. This was the source of his absolute confidence.

”Ahhh...” Chen Fei offered no verbal response, only a low howl of agony as he resisted with every fiber of his being. The pain etched on his face intensified tenfold, his features twisting into an unrecognizable mask. A layer of bone-chilling ice crystals began to gradually encase his body.

It was easy to imagine that once the ice completely covered his body, Zhen Jingkong’s possession would be complete. The ice was spreading with shocking speed, meeting almost no resistance at all. In just a few more breaths, it would be over. This was the chasm-like difference—a veritable Heavenly Rift—between a mighty existence who had once reached the Perfection Peak of a Foundation Establishment True Person and a paltry cultivator at the Peak of the Qi Refining Fifth Layer.

”Sigh... have it your way, then.” The chilling, icy sigh sounded once more, as if to say he didn’t truly wish to do this. But he had no other choice; it was his only path to survival now. How many people can truly walk willingly to their deaths? Very, very few, I imagine.

Inside Chen Fei’s Consciousness Ocean of Dantian, the cluster of ice-blue mist had usurped the dominant position. Like a tiger, the king of the jungle, it drove Chen Fei’s pathetically weak Divine Sense into the farthest corner, freezing it solid. The consciousness of our Young Master Chen began to blur. Before long, he would dissipate completely.

This is all greed’s fault. I knew there was a problem, so why couldn’t I resist the temptation? Why did I have to barge in? He was now filled with immense regret. He had suspected something was wrong before entering the Great Formation, and again before the Micro Teleportation Formation. Yet, step by step, he had walked into this abyss, clinging to a foolish hope of good fortune. And the result? The result was that he now felt like a complete joke. He had pushed himself into this chasm with his own hands.

And with the regret came pain. An excruciating, heart-wrenching pain. As the astonishing power of the ice-blue mist continued its seemingly reluctant invasion, the dazed Chen Fei felt as if his very soul was about to be frozen solid and split apart. He had never experienced anything like this, yet he somehow understood. This must be the ’pleasure’ reserved for my final moments, right? In a few more seconds, he, Chen Fei, would vanish completely, knowing nothing more.

”ROAR! I refuse to accept this!”

A hysterical roar erupted, though it was so faint as to be almost inaudible.

Yet, when Zhen Jingkong’s consciousness heard it, he was suddenly seized by an intense, overwhelming sense of foreboding. Immediately following the roar, Chen Fei’s Consciousness Ocean of Dantian began to tremble bizarrely. Even more astonishingly, the layers of ice crystals encasing his Divine Sense began to shake loose, melting away into water.

”What... What is that drop of blood!?” Zhen Jingkong’s consciousness recoiled, and he let out a hoarse, incredulous roar.

Within Chen Fei’s Consciousness Ocean of Dantian, a single drop of dazzling golden blood had appeared, emanating a terrifying aura. From a distance, it resembled a Divine Bird spreading its wings for flight. A crimson glow shot toward the heavens as its thunderous, shrill cry echoed, soaring between the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths.

In that same instant, a terrifying pressure erupted—a power so dreadful that even Zhen Jingkong found it unimaginable. It was scalding hot, a searing heat that felt as if it could forge worlds anew and melt all magma. The power swept through the entire Consciousness Ocean, instantly freezing Zhen Jingkong’s Divine Sense in place.

”This... this is...” Even as a Soul Body, Zhen Jingkong couldn’t stop his very spirit from trembling. Gazing at that drop of dazzling golden blood, he was overcome with an urge to kneel and worship it. More terrifying still, the impulse was completely involuntary, like a mortal facing a god, filled with an innate, primal reverence.

His consciousness quivered, filled with utter horror. Who was he? He was Zhen Jingkong! The unparalleled genius of the Qiannan Ancient Kingdom’s younger generation from a century ago, the one closest to becoming a Great Formation Master!

And now? Now, this single drop of blood had terrified him into a trembling wreck, filling him with an awe so deep it touched his very essence—an experience he would never forget for as long as he existed. How utterly astonishing! It was simply beyond belief, beyond all imagination!

”I’m... I’m not dead?” At that moment, Young Master Chen seemed to regain a sliver of consciousness. Still dizzy, he mumbled the words to himself.

”That’s right, you’re not dead. And you won’t be dying now,” Zhen Jingkong’s voice rang out once more. This time, however, it held no coldness, no lofty arrogance. There was only profound disbelief and a deep melancholy. ”I, Zhen Jingkong, who once astounded a generation and looked down upon all of Qiannan, have fallen here, in this desolate place barren of Spiritual Energy, to a ’wretched commoner’ like you. Truly unexpected... What a cruel irony of fate.”

He had schemed for decades with the sole purpose of surviving, only to fail in such a profoundly ironic way. How could it not be tragic? But failure was failure. There was nothing more to be said. That was reality.

Still, there was one thing he could not comprehend. What exactly was that drop of glistening golden blood? And why would such a terrifying object be hidden inside the body of a mere ’wretched commoner’?