"Young master…"
Yun Rou froze as she watched black aura slowly envelop Xuè Wúshēng's body, swirling like living deathly mist. A chilling pressure seeped into her bones, tightening her breath without her realizing it.
"Do not be afraid."
Xuè Wúshēng's voice was calm, almost gentle. The black aura trembled briefly before sinking back into his body.
"Yun Rou."
"Yes, young master."
"Leave me alone."
Yun Rou fell silent. Her fingers clenched tightly around the hem of her robe, her face filled with anxiety she could not fully conceal. Still, she lowered her head in obedience.
"Very well, young master."
Her steps were slow as she walked away, as though her heart resisted leaving that place.
Once Yun Rou's figure disappeared from sight, Xuè Wúshēng stepped into the Training Arena. The space was silent, with only a gentle breeze sweeping dust across the floor. He drew a deep breath, attempting to sense his former qi, still hidden within the seals at his abdomen, chest, and forehead.
"Damn it…"
His brows knitted tightly.
"With this body in its current state, it would be far too dangerous to release it. I must strengthen this body first."
Xuè Wúshēng lifted his gaze toward the sky. Its blue hue was calm and pristine. His lips curved into a thin smile.
"Beautiful…"
The smile widened, transforming into a low laugh.
"Perhaps it would be even more beautiful if it were red."
"Hahaha… hahaha…"
His laughter echoed throughout the empty arena, laden with dark energy that pierced the soul.
Behind one of the trees, Yun Rou stood stiffly. She had not gone far. Her body trembled as she watched her young master laugh like that—not the laughter of a human, but the laughter of something born of pure evil.
"Young master…" she whispered, barely audible.
"Have you become… a monster?"
***
After that day, Xuè Wúshēng devoted all his time to building a stronger, more resilient body. Every day, he ran around the estate, lifting heavy weights without pause. Yet no matter how intense the training, it all felt far too easy for him.
Days passed, one after another, until a full week had gone by. Unfortunately, Xuè Wúshēng's body still showed no significant improvement.
With a clearly frustrated expression, he paced back and forth across the training arena.
"Yun Rou."
"Yes, young master," Yun Rou replied. She had been standing quietly to the side, observing all along.
"I need heavier training. Something much more demanding."
Yun Rou fell silent for a moment, thinking carefully before speaking.
"Young master, you can carry water."
Xuè Wúshēng frowned. "Where?"
"Follow me, young master."
Without hesitation, Yun Rou led him to the far side of the house. There, Xuè Wúshēng's gaze fell on six large jars arranged neatly. He approached one and peered inside.
"Where does the water in these jars come from?" he asked.
Yun Rou smiled faintly. "From down below," she said, pointing downward.
Xuè Wúshēng stepped to her side and saw a stone staircase leading down to the base of the area.
"You get water from down there?"
Yun Rou nodded. "There is a waterfall below. Young master only needs to fill two jars at a time and carry them back up."
Xuè Wúshēng's thin smile revealed disbelief.
"Four jars are still empty. You may start now if you wish."
He glanced at the row of jars. "How many trips will it take to fill them all?"
"If I were to do it, perhaps one day would suffice," Yun Rou replied calmly. "But for you… it may take seven days—or more."
Xuè Wúshēng chuckled lightly, a trace of challenge in his tone. "I will fill all of them in a single day," he said confidently.
"I cannot wait to witness it," Yun Rou replied with a respectful bow.
Yet that confidence was nothing more than empty words.
After three trips up and down the stairs, carrying the water jars, Xuè Wúshēng's body finally gave out. He froze halfway up the steps before collapsing helplessly. He would have tumbled down if Yun Rou had not rushed to catch him from behind, holding him tightly.
From that day onward, Xuè Wúshēng endured prolonged bone pain. His body was weak, unable to rise from bed. Day and night, his groans and cries never ceased.
Throughout all that time, Yun Rou remained faithfully by his side.
She wiped his sweat, changed his cloths, fed him water and medicine, and stayed awake without complaint for even a single moment. Her care was sincere, as though she bore his pain alongside him.
Six days passed.
That night, the room was lit only by the pale moonlight filtering through the open window. A gentle night breeze drifted in, carrying a piercing chill.
Xuè Wúshēng stared blankly at the window.
Unnoticed, tears streamed down his cheeks.
He knew that Yun Rou was lying on the floor beneath his bed—no mat, no blanket. The exhaustion from staying up all night to care for him had taken its toll.
Compared to his previous life…
No one would ever care for him.
He would be left to cry alone.
Left to endure the pain.
And often, the pain would be accompanied by even harsher suffering.
The realization made his chest tighten, and the tears would not stop flowing.
After eight days, Xuè Wúshēng's body finally regained its full strength.
That morning, he sat cross-legged in the center of the training arena. His back was straight, his breathing steady, his eyes closed tightly.
Slowly, he tried to touch the qi gate at his abdomen, hidden deep within its seal.
He knew the risk. Forcing open the qi before his body was fully ready could have disastrous consequences. Yet at that moment, he had no other choice.
He needed only a little.
A small amount of qi would be enough to ease the burden of his training, enough to help accelerate the strengthening of his body.
"Please… I only need a little," he whispered softly.
Sweat began to soak his forehead. His breathing grew heavy, the tendons in his neck taut. Minutes turned into hours, yet the qi gate did not budge an inch.
No vibration.
No flow.
Only the painful silence.
Finally, Xuè Wúshēng opened his eyes.
His face was drawn, a mask of anger and frustration. With a harsh exhale, he rose to his feet.
Without looking back, he walked toward the edge of the estate.
Training was far from over.
If the qi refused to yield, then it was this body that would be forced to grow stronger.
Xuè Wúshēng picked up the water jars once more, ready to endure the pain again.
This time, with far greater resolve, he managed to fill a single large jar. It was only completed late into the night, when his body teetered at the edge of exhaustion. Yet unlike before, he did not groan. Every pang of pain was swallowed silently.
On the third attempt, he filled another jar. His movements were steadier, his steps more controlled, and the time required far shorter than the second attempt.
Day after day passed.
Trip after trip, his body laden with fatigue, his bones screaming for mercy, Xuè Wúshēng pressed on. He endured the pain, forcing his body to adapt.
A month later, the results were undeniable.
Six massive jars stood filled, gleaming under the morning sun. And all had been completed in a single day.
"Arghhh—!"
Xuè Wúshēng's cry of satisfaction echoed into the air. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body drenched in sweat, yet his eyes shone with an uncontainable pride.
Yun Rou clapped her hands softly, her face lighting up as she witnessed her young master's achievement.
"Young master, shall I empty all the water from these jars?"
"No," Xuè Wúshēng replied quickly. "No need. Go inside first and prepare the food for us."
Yun Rou hesitated for a moment. "Where are you going, young master?"
"Down there," he said, glancing toward the stairs. "I want to refresh myself with cold water."
Yun Rou nodded in understanding. "Very well. I will bring your clothes."
Xuè Wúshēng gave a faint, thin smile before stepping away, leaving the six full jars behind as a testament to the transformation of his body—and the strength of his resolve.