Volume Two, Chapter Thirty-Five: Such Potent Poison!

As soon as Yu Mu entered the wine vat, he lowered his head and drank greedily.

“Still not enough? Fine, I’ll fight you to the end. I don’t believe I can’t satisfy you.” Yu Mu’s stubbornness flared up. He had already grown to loathe this damned vine.

The vine was like a parasite, a vampire—impossible to drive away, never satisfied, endlessly draining his spiritual energy.

Gritting his teeth, Yu Mu unleashed all his roots, crazily absorbing the vital essence from the wine. At last, his condition stopped deteriorating and even began to recover, little by little.

In no time, the essence in the wine was completely drained, yet the vine remained unchanged, as if its hunger knew no bounds.

By now, the vine had grown as long as the other branches, blending in as though it had always belonged to the tree. Yet its body was covered in sharp thorns, savage and menacing, its evil nature starkly contrasting with the other peach branches.

“Bring another vat.”

Helpless, Yu Mu was about to call Meng Fang over when he suddenly sensed something else foreign inside his body. It was a mass of black vapor, its origin unknown, and by the time Yu Mu noticed, it had already spread throughout his body.

This black vapor was like a virus, corroding everywhere it passed. Only the parts of his body that had transformed into wood remained untouched.

Not only that, but whenever the black vapor reached those parts, it would instantly dissipate and be expelled from his body.

Misfortune truly never comes alone. The vine had already driven Yu Mu to the brink of despair, and now this new threat was no less deadly. Either one could easily claim his life.

But when the black vapor reached the vine, something strange happened. The vine, as if encountering both a formidable enemy and a rare delicacy, devoured the black vapor in an instant.

After consuming the black vapor, the vine finally seemed satiated. It stopped drawing on Yu Mu’s spiritual power, and grew quiet, hanging peacefully among the other branches.

“What’s going on? Where did this black vapor come from?” Yu Mu was utterly baffled, but it seemed the crisis had passed.

Regaining a bit of strength, Yu Mu struggled to stand up in the vat.

“Haha! Brother, you’re all right? I knew you wouldn’t die! Hahahaha…” Meng Fang laughed uproariously, though his eyes were wet with tears.

From outside the vat, no one could tell what was happening to Yu Mu—they could only see him completely submerged.

Meng Fang stopped laughing and lifted Yu Mu from the vat. Seeing that Yu Mu had regained some of his vigor, he was overjoyed.

But the innkeeper, pointing at Yu Mu’s belly in astonishment, exclaimed, “Is…is that all wine in there? Good heavens! How much can you drink?!”

When the two looked down, they saw Yu Mu’s stomach was so swollen he looked like a woman about to give birth.

Yu Mu opened his mouth and spewed a jet of water back into the vat. When they looked again, the wine in the vat had lost all its aroma, and now appeared to be nothing more than clear water.

This time, the innkeeper was so shocked he couldn’t even muster an expression—he was thoroughly dumbfounded.

Meng Fang was about to ask Yu Mu what had happened, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he coughed up a mouthful of black blood. With a thud, he lost consciousness.

The sudden turn of events caught everyone off guard. No one could have expected that a perfectly healthy man would suddenly cough blood and collapse.

“Meng, Brother Meng!” Yu Mu hurried to his side to check on him.

“What’s going on? Why do you two take turns with this? Young man, shall I bring more wine?” The innkeeper was clearly unhinged by now.

Yu Mu had no time for the innkeeper’s ramblings. Placing his hand on Meng Fang, he immediately understood what had happened—Meng Fang was suffering exactly what Yu Mu had just endured.

The black vapor churning inside Meng Fang’s body reminded Yu Mu instinctively of a pair of cold, deathly eyes.

It was her—had to be her! What a vicious woman!

Hatred filled Yu Mu’s eyes. He could tolerate pain when it was only directed at him, but when it harmed his Brother Meng, it became a mortal grudge.

But saving Meng Fang was urgent. His condition was worsening even faster than Yu Mu’s had—he was already barely hanging on, at death’s door.

What a fierce poison!

By now, Yu Mu had a good idea of where the veiled woman had come from.

He had only survived the poison thanks to the vine, so his first instinct was to try to summon it again. Unfortunately, though it grew from his body, the vine no longer obeyed him.

What now?

Yu Mu was sweating with anxiety. Suddenly, he recalled how the black vapor had been neutralized in his own body—his tree form was immune, and could dispel it.

With that thought, Yu Mu produced a peach.

“What?! How could this happen?” Yu Mu was startled by what he saw—the peach, once juicy and vibrant, was now shriveled and withered, as though it had been stomped on, drained of at least half its moisture and vitality.

So I’ve been weakened to this degree! But there was no time to worry about that now. Yu Mu pried open Meng Fang’s mouth and squeezed the peach juice in.

As soon as the juice entered, the blackness on Meng Fang’s face melted away like frost in hot oil. The spiritual energy from the peach gradually flowed downward, and the color of Meng Fang’s body returned to normal.

“It’s not enough,” Yu Mu thought, seeing that only half the poison had been neutralized. He quickly produced another peach and fed it to Meng Fang.

With two peaches down, Meng Fang’s body finally returned to normal, and he slowly regained consciousness.

With a groan, Meng Fang spat out another mouthful of congealed blood, at last expelling all the poison. But now he was even weaker than Yu Mu, barely able to stand.

Supporting Meng Fang, Yu Mu said to the innkeeper, “Bring me a few more jars of wine. I’m taking them with me.”

“Yes, yes, right away.” The innkeeper hurried to comply, still dumbstruck by what he’d just witnessed. One man cured by drinking wine, another by eating peaches—what kind of world was this? Had he not seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed it for anything.

Yu Mu had just put away the wine and was about to leave when, with a crash, the two doors—already hanging by a thread after Meng Fang’s earlier collision—were kicked to pieces.

Through the debris strode a youth in white. He looked seventeen or eighteen, fair as jade, his eyes bright as stars, lips red and teeth white, handsome and elegant, noble in bearing. Clad in a close-fitting white suit, he exuded an air of effortless charm and dashing grace.

The only discordant note was the pride etched deeply into his features. Every glance, every gesture radiated an insolent arrogance, as though he looked down on all beneath the heavens.

The youth broke in, and far from being angry, the innkeeper immediately dropped to his knees, crying out, “Your humble servant greets the Young Lord! I pay my respects to the Young Lord!”

Not just the innkeeper—everyone in the tavern save for Yu Mu and Meng Fang knelt in a wave, bowing to the youth in unison.

What a display of power!