"You are Shi Yu's disciple. He will not harm you," Mu Lao said softly, looking at Shi Yu with gentle reassurance.
Shi Yu, however, kept his eyes on the dagger and bowl in Xuan Lao's hands, saying nothing.
"Shi Yu, of course, won't hurt you. He was just too anxious to save Zhang Lexuan, which made him act a little presumptuous," Xuan Lao explained awkwardly as he quickly put the dagger and bowl away.
"Zhuang Lao, hurry and explain the situation," Xuan Lao urged, noticing Shi Yu's wary gaze.
An elderly man with an ancient bearing but a ruddy, vibrant complexion stepped forward. After glancing at Shi Yu, he slowly spoke:
"Zhang Lexuan and seven other Inner Courtyard disciples were ambushed by a Ten-Thousand-Year Phoenix in the Star Dou Great Forest. All seven disciples perished in the battle. Only Zhang Lexuan survived."
"Her condition wasn't irreparable at first. But unwilling to waste the Soul Ring of the Phoenix, she forcefully absorbed it despite her severe injuries. Though she succeeded, the consequences were grave."
"Her meridians are shattered, her flesh and blood damaged in varying degrees, and even the foundation of her Martial Soul has been affected. These injuries are devastating. Even with our best efforts, we cannot say when—or if—she will fully recover."
"It's possible her wounds will heal, yet her cultivation may never return to its peak. That would be a crushing blow to her… and to Shrek Academy as well."
Zhuang Lao's voice carried deep regret. To see such a gifted child ruined was unbearable.
"It's all my fault! All mine…" Xuan Lao muttered, filled with self-blame and remorse. If only he had been more vigilant, this tragedy might have been avoided.
Though the others shared his blame, they knew scolding him now was meaningless. What was done, was done.
Shi Yu, meanwhile, clenched his fists. He had even given a slight reminder beforehand, but the disaster had unfolded regardless.
"Xuan Lao really is unreliable…" he thought bitterly.
Aloud, he asked, "Then what does this have to do with my blood?"
Zhuang Lao's gaze sharpened. "We discussed this at length and thought of the Nine-Star Begonia. It is a divine treasure for healing. Even a century-old plant can work wonders. If we could use its essence, her recovery would be much more certain."
At that moment, all eyes fell on Shi Yu.
"The medical teacher in the Outer Courtyard once mentioned that you had accidentally consumed a Nine-Star Begonia," Zhuang Lao continued.
Shi Yu's heart sank. He forced a smile. "That was months ago. Surely its medicinal effects can't still linger in my blood, right?"
"Whether they remain or not, we must test to know," Xuan Lao cut in immediately.
Shi Yu's expression stiffened. "Can I refuse?" he asked weakly.
He didn't know how much blood they wanted to take—and the idea of being treated like a walking blood tonic unsettled him. After all, in the original story Zhang Lexuan recovered on her own after a year. It wasn't ideal, but she lived.
A tense silence filled the room. Xuan Lao opened his mouth but hesitated, fearing to push Shi Yu too hard and risk damaging his trust in the Academy.
Finally, Mu En spoke gently: "If possible, we hope you will agree. Don't worry—we won't take too much. At most, only a finger's thickness and length of blood once a week."
He paused, then added, "And the Academy will compensate you. We won't take it for free."
Shi Yu's eyes narrowed slightly. "…What kind of compensation?"
Mu En smiled. "For each time, we will give you a thousand-year Blood-Nourishing Flower. It will replenish your blood quickly and permanently strengthen your vitality over time. In addition, you may eat freely at the Inner Courtyard cafeteria for one full year, with no restrictions."
Shi Yu's eyes lit up. "Really? Anything I want?"
Most Inner Courtyard meals were free, but the most precious ones required payment—astronomical amounts, often thousands of gold soul coins for a single dish. The price was frightening, but the value was undeniable. Rare soul beast meat, heavenly herbs, treasures of the land and sea—each meal carried immense benefits for cultivation.
Mu En nodded firmly.
Shi Yu hesitated only a moment longer before nodding. "Alright, I'll agree. But the amount of blood must never exceed one finger's thickness and length per week. And even if my blood proves useless, these promises still stand."
"Agreed," Mu En said warmly.
The elders also nodded in approval. What mattered most now was saving Zhang Lexuan.
Shi Yu finally extended his hand, though his voice carried a note of warning: "Draw it slowly. Not too much."
A thin vial—just enough blood to match the thickness and length of a finger—was extracted.
"Your blood contains extraordinary vitality. It should be effective," Zhuang Lao said with delight after inspecting it.
"Then don't waste time. Use it to save Lexuan now!" Xuan Lao urged anxiously.
Zhuang Lao nodded, carefully pouring the blood into Zhang Lexuan's mouth and guiding it with his Soul Power to the deepest parts of her wounded body.
Everyone watched with bated breath. Shi Yu too stared nervously, torn inside. He had always admired Zhang Lexuan and wanted her to recover. Yet if his blood proved too miraculous, wouldn't he become a living "blood medicine" for anyone who fell gravely injured?
At first, nothing happened.
Then, half an hour later, Zhuang Lao's expression shifted to joy. "It's working—it's really working!"
Relief swept across the elders. Even Xuan Lao's anxious face brightened.
Shi Yu, however, felt a strange mix of emotions—part relief, part dread.
The treatment continued for two more hours before Zhuang Lao, drained of Soul Power, nearly collapsed. Assistants hurried to support him.
"I'm fine, just exhausted," he assured them, before looking toward Zhang Lexuan.
Her complexion had grown noticeably rosier, though she still lay unconscious.
"How is she?" Xuan Lao asked urgently.
"Shi Yu's blood, infused with the Nine-Star Begonia's medicinal power, has already begun repairing her injuries. But to fully heal her, she will need at least ten more treatments like this."
"Ten times…" Xuan Lao breathed, finally allowing himself hope. "If she receives them, she will recover?"
"Most likely—about a ninety percent chance," Zhuang Lao admitted. "But there are no absolutes. In the end, it will depend on her own fortune."
Xuan Lao nodded vigorously. Ninety percent was enough.