Walking in the cycle of reincarnation

Chapter 17 Golden Poison

The plan went so smoothly that it was beyond Zhang Nanfeng's expectations, and he found it hard to believe.

He had thought that this matter would require some effort and several elaborate schemes before the boy would realize his difference and wholeheartedly believe in him.

He even planned that if the usual methods didn't work, he would use venom to draw words on the stone.

But who would have thought that the young man would see him as a god, kneeling down and kowtowing, tears streaming down his face, without uttering a single question.

Could this boy be much more mentally challenged than the average person? But... his appearance and expression don't seem to suggest it.

He couldn't figure it out.

If you can't figure it out, then don't think about it.

In any case, the current situation suits his wishes. Now that Meng Jinchuan has taken away the golden poison, it's as if he's made a connection between him and the Meng family.

As for whether Meng Jinchuan would inform his elders, he didn't care.

It's best not to sue, but it doesn't matter if you do, since he's in the shadows while the Meng family is in the open.

......

On the other side, Meng Jinchuan, clutching a broad leaf, ran back to the village like a madman.

He ran breathlessly, his lungs aching, yet his hands remained steady, as if afraid of dropping the broad leaves. The leaves were softened by the warmth of his palms, but the golden poison on them remained stubbornly congealed.

......

Meng Jinchuan headed straight for the northwest corner of the village.

This used to be his and his brother's residence, but Meng Yuanshan drove him away after he turned fourteen and lived here alone, saying that he needed quiet to practice his skills and did not allow his younger brother to disturb him.

Meng Jinchuan moved stealthily along the ladder, his steps light.

The stilted house's ground floor was raised three feet off the ground and supported by wooden stakes. Meng Jinchuan carefully placed the broad leaves, then crouched down and crawled between the stakes at the bottom of the house, curiously peering upwards through the gaps.

The dim lights inside the building cast a shadow on the wall.

Meng Yuanshan sat naked from the waist up, his back taut like a bowstring.

Three earthenware urns were placed in front of him, their mouths sealed with hemp cloth, and scratching sounds could be heard coming from inside.

Meng Jinchuan held his breath.

Meng Yuanshan took a deep breath and lifted the cloth covering the first earthenware urn.

A loud buzzing sound erupted from the urn, and a black cloud suddenly rose up, formed by hundreds of poisonous ants the size of fingernails. Smelling the scent of a living person's blood, the ants, like iron meeting a magnet, swarmed straight towards his chest.

Meng Yuanshan trembled violently, his teeth clenched so tightly they made a grinding sound, yet he remained motionless.

At the ant colony's location, red rashes instantly appear on the skin, which then turn into purplish-black patches the size of a bowl.

After the poisonous ants finished injecting the venom, they detached from his chest and scattered on the floor.

Meng Yuanshan was drenched in cold sweat, his veins bulging. He circulated his poison technique, guiding the ant poison along his meridians, and his blue veins turned black.

He let out a muffled groan, his fingers digging into his palms, but he was completely unaware of it.

Before the poison was completely neutralized, he opened the second jar.

Inside the jar were three centipedes, each with legs as long as chopsticks, their bodies entirely red, their hundred legs thrashing about like iron brushes. Meng Yuanshan pressed them against his left arm, letting their jaws and teeth pierce his flesh.

The centipede venom was potent; the moment it entered his body, his left arm swelled up into a deep purple. He was in excruciating pain, his face contorted, white foam spilling from the corner of his mouth, his body swaying back and forth, yet he never fell.

Meng Jinchuan watched from below the stake, his heart aching, and his eyes reddened again.

He had seen his elder brother practice martial arts countless times, but each time, his heart ached as if it were the first time.

My elder brother is fifteen years old this year and has been in the "Poison Cultivation Realm" for three years. If he cannot break through to the Poison Induction Realm before he turns sixteen, his position as the young clan leader will be taken away by our father.

He didn't understand anything about the power struggles within the clan. He only knew that after each training session, his elder brother would lie in bed for a whole day, his whole body burning up, talking nonsense, and sometimes even vomiting black blood.

The third earthenware urn was opened.

The jar was eerily quiet, except for a snow-white scorpion with its tail hook hanging like a silver needle, slowly crawling out.

"White Nether Scorpion..." Meng Jinchuan exclaimed in shock.

Meng Yuanshan's ears twitched, and he turned his head sharply, his gaze piercing the shadows at the bottom of the building like a knife.

"Who?!"

Knowing that he had been exposed, Meng Jinchuan had no choice but to sheepishly slip out and climb the stairs to go inside.

As soon as he stepped on the ground, several poisonous ants swarmed up his trouser leg, startling him so much that he stomped his feet repeatedly.

Meng Yuanshan waved his hand to sweep away the ants and insects for his younger brother, and asked with a cold face:

"What are you doing here?"

"elder brother......"

Meng Jinchuan's voice trembled as he looked at the centipede teeth marks on his brother's arm and said:

"It's been a few days since I last saw you. I've come to see you and check on your progress in your training."

Meng Yuanshan chuckled, which aggravated his injury, causing his lips to twitch in pain.

"Looking at me? To see me make a fool of myself?"

"No!" Meng Jinchuan said urgently, "I meant... if it's too painful, then perhaps we shouldn't practice this skill?"

Meng Yuanshan's gaze suddenly turned cold.

"What did you say?"

Meng Jinchuan was intimidated by his gaze and took a half step back, but still mustered his courage and said:

"I heard about the martial arts of Dongzhou from Brother Linhai. They don't require being bitten by poisonous insects, they don't have to suffer like that. They practice internal energy, boxing, and swordsmanship. Although... although progress is slow, at least they don't have to put themselves through that..."

"fart!"

Meng Yuanshan interrupted him sharply, forcing him to swallow his words.

"Eastern Continent martial arts?"

Meng Yuanshan saw only mockery in his eyes.

"All show and no substance, all style and no substance. The people of Dongzhou are cowardly and hypocritical, and their kung fu is just weak and feeble. If they were to fight against the people of Nanjiang, no matter how many came, they would all die."

As Meng Yuanshan spoke, he became increasingly indignant, and blood seeped from his poisoned wounds due to the surging of his blood and qi.

"Avoid this suffering, or do you want to end up like me, still not having entered the realm of poison cultivation at thirteen?"

He paused, his tone growing colder:

"From now on, you are not allowed to mention Eastern Continent martial arts again, and you are not allowed to come looking for me without a reason. If you interrupt my training again and cause me to suffer a qi deviation, can you bear the responsibility?"

Meng Jinchuan lowered his head, tears welling up in his eyes.

He understood his brother's difficulties.

The young clan leader, sixteen years old, had reached the Poison Mastery realm, a heavy burden weighing on his elder brother's shoulders. Their father never gave a second glance to clansmen who hadn't met the standards; he himself was the best example.

"I understand, brother," he said in a muffled voice.

Seeing his appearance, Meng Yuanshan felt irritated and waved him away.

Meng Jinchuan, however, did not move.

He hesitated for a long time, then suddenly looked up, his eyes flashing with determination.

"Brother, wait for me a moment."

He turned and ran downstairs, returning with a ceramic bottle in his hand. He handed the bottle to Meng Yuanshan.

Meng Yuanshan frowned as he took it and held it up to the lamplight—

A drop of golden liquid swirled in the bottle, thick as honey, exactly like the venom from the spirit seed in the crevice of the rock that day.

His pupils suddenly contracted.

"This...isn't this the poison from that escaped spirit seed? Where did you get it?!"

Meng Jinchuan pursed his lips and shook his head, his eyes earnest as he said:

"Brother, don't ask. Just use it to practice. With this, you'll definitely be able to break through and enter the Poison-Attracting Realm soon. But... you must never tell Father, and don't let Uncle Shi or Uncle Shi know either."

Meng Yuanshan clutched the pottery bottle, his expression uncertain, as if he were making a decision.

A sudden mountain wind rose outside the building, causing the oil lamp to flicker and casting the shadows of the two brothers into a ball, then tearing them in two.

After a long silence, Meng Yuanshan finally turned his face away and squeezed out a single word:

"it is good."

Upon hearing this, Meng Jinchuan smiled broadly, a genuine smile.

"Well... I'll be going then. Brother, you should practice your skills well. I won't bother you anymore."

After saying that, he turned and ran, the wooden ladder thumping loudly under his feet.