Chapter Nine: Underlying Currents

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As evening fell, a fine, persistent rain descended from the heavens, soaking every inch of the land. In the aftermath of a fierce battle around the ancient forests of the Demonic Beast Mountains, all that remained were crumbling walls and shattered stones—a scene of utter desolation and gloom.

Tiny, dense raindrops fell upon the surface of a deep, ancient pool, casting ripple after ripple that spread ever outward. On the grassy bank beside the pool, Ye Zihan lay with only a few tattered scraps of coarse cloth covering him, his body nearly bare. Strangely, though the rain fell all around, not a single drop touched him; instead, a barrier formation set up by Lan Yu encased him, warding off every droplet.

“This is Lan Yu, the supreme master of the human realm. Not only is her strength unrivaled, but her medical skills are also second to none—no one in this world can surpass her. And this is Youlan, a powerful figure from the Thousand Nether Blood Phantom Dragon Clan,” Hong Yan introduced with a smile from within the barrier.

“Don’t listen to his exaggerations. I’m not nearly so impressive,” Lan Yu replied, nodding slightly to Youlan in greeting.

Youlan returned the gesture, but surprise flickered in her eyes. The woman before her was not only of breathtaking beauty, but her bearing was extraordinary, and the aura she exuded was no less formidable than her own.

“What are these two people’s origins?” Youlan studied Hong Yan and Lan Yu carefully, wondering to herself. Even now, in their soul states, their strength was not inferior to hers. If they were at full power, just how terrifying would they be?

“Enough modesty—see to Youlan’s wounds first. They’re quite peculiar,” Hong Yan urged.

Lan Yu nodded, her jade hand waving to expand the barrier to a hundred paces wide. She turned to Youlan. “Return to your true form. It will make healing easier.”

Youlan observed the two for a long moment, sensing no particular fluctuation in their auras and guessing they meant her no harm. After a brief hesitation, she nodded, gently set down the dragon egg she carried, and her form swelled as she resumed her true shape—a massive dragon coiled within the barrier.

Lan Yu scrutinized Youlan’s body, her gaze falling on countless claw marks, bruises, and other wounds from various attacks. Blood oozed from many places, staining the nearby dragon scales a vivid crimson.

“What’s this wound?” Lan Yu’s voice was tinged with surprise as her gaze fell upon Youlan’s flank.

There, along the dragon’s waist, were several grotesque, gaping holes, the flesh around them blackened as though scorched. Even the scales, normally as hard as steel, appeared softened and corroded, with the blackness spreading outward in a most unnatural way.

“This is the injury I meant earlier,” Hong Yan explained. “Of all her wounds, this is the most fatal.”

“The wound spreads outward from the blood holes, corroding flesh and meridians—it appears to be venom.”

Enduring the agony, Youlan’s eyes flashed with admiration. She hadn’t expected the beautiful woman before her to diagnose the wound’s poisonous nature at a glance.

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“How did you receive this injury?” Lan Yu asked, her eyes on Youlan. “Without knowing its source, it’s difficult to treat.”

Youlan fell silent for a moment, her voice cold and tinged with resentment as she finally replied, “This is a secret technique of the Thousand Nether Blood Phantom Dragon Clan—the Corrosive Dragon Venom.”

Hong Yan and Lan Yu exchanged glances, both showing surprise and frowning slightly. Though the Thousand Nether Blood Phantom Dragons were few in number, they were legendary for their unity and fierce protection of their own, one of the mightiest clans among all demonic beasts. The fact that such a deadly technique had been used in an internal feud suggested that much had changed in the past three centuries.

“Corrosive Dragon Venom…” Lan Yu mused for a long while before speaking. “I’ll need your essence blood in order to treat you.”

“You can heal this wound?” Youlan’s gaze was incredulous. The Corrosive Dragon Venom was one of her clan’s highest secret arts. Once it entered the body, it coursed through the meridians, spreading its corruption relentlessly. Without intervention, all meridians would be destroyed within half a year, and even the most profound cultivation would not avert death. Since its creation, none had survived its effects; all afflicted perished.

“I will do my best,” Lan Yu replied with a gentle smile.

After a moment’s hesitation, Youlan made her decision. Raising a dragon claw to her brow, she drew forth a stream of essence blood.

Though unsure of Lan Yu’s chances, Youlan allowed herself a glimmer of hope. The wager was small—just a bit of blood, a negligible loss if it failed. But should she succeed, Youlan’s strength would be restored, giving her the means to seek vengeance.

With a flick of her wrist, Lan Yu produced a jade vial. Pointing her index finger, she drew Youlan’s essence blood from her brow in a thin red stream, which flew directly into the vial.

With the essence blood secured, Lan Yu produced a space scroll, searching carefully within.

A space scroll was a vessel that compressed and sealed an independent pocket of space, making it ideal for storing all manner of items.

“Dragon essence blood, Emperor Flame Pill, Snow-patterned Herb, Greenwood Dew…”

She withdrew more than a dozen rare ingredients, working swiftly and meticulously. Her breathtaking face was set in concentration as she crushed and mixed each component with utmost care.

Hong Yan watched with a quiet smile, while above, Youlan’s eyes shone with hope. Lan Yu’s effortless skill was the mark of a true master of healing.

After a quarter of an hour, Lan Yu finished her preparations and poured the concoction into the jade vial. The resulting potion was a bluish-red, its aroma strangely alluring.

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“This will hurt a bit—bear with it,” Lan Yu warned.

With the medicine ready, Lan Yu reached out, her five fingers forming a mystical seal. Instantly, Youlan’s wounds reopened, blood flowing freely, the raw flesh exposed in a gruesome display.

Opening the wounds, Lan Yu poured the potion into the air, where it hovered before guiding the bluish-red liquid to Youlan’s injuries.

A sizzling sound filled the air as the potion met the corrupted flesh. Youlan clenched her jaw, enduring the pain. Soon, the liquid was absorbed, and the wounds, now tinged blue and red, ceased bleeding. The charred flesh turned the same hue as the potion and began to heal.

Once her work was done, Lan Yu exhaled deeply, clearly exhausted by the effort.

After the time it would take to drink a cup of tea, the pain finally began to fade. Youlan felt her strength recover by sixty to seventy percent, and joy shone in her eyes as she reverted to human form.

Approaching Hong Yan and Lan Yu, Youlan bowed slightly. “My wounds are healing. I will never forget your kindness in saving my life. I deeply regret attacking you earlier and hope you can forgive me. If you ever need my help, you need only ask.”

“It was nothing,” Lan Yu replied with a serene smile.

Youlan gazed at them thoughtfully, curiosity about their origins growing. The Emperor Flame Pill, the Snow-patterned Herb—these were all ingredients of the eighth tier or higher, and yet they had produced them so easily to heal a stranger, one who had even harbored ill intent toward them. It defied belief.

“And this child?” She glanced at Ye Zihan lying nearby, curiosity piqued. Anyone connected to these two mysterious figures could not be ordinary.

“It’s all fate,” Hong Yan said helplessly, looking at the still-unconscious Ye Zihan. “Though we hardly knew him, from this day forth, we can only follow him.”

Youlan was baffled by this cryptic remark, but refrained from asking further.

“Let’s tend to his wounds next. He’s gravely injured,” Lan Yu said, stepping lightly to Ye Zihan’s side. “A few days ago, we could only protect his heart from within. Now that we’re out, treating his injuries shouldn’t be difficult.”

With that, Lan Yu produced several more herbs, crushing and mixing them as before. She opened Ye Zihan’s wounds and applied the potion.

But no one noticed that, as Lan Yu opened Ye Zihan’s wounds, several drops of his blood splattered onto the dragon egg lying nearby. As the blood touched it, the egg trembled slightly, and a strange light flickered across its surface.