Tang Lici returned to his room where Meng Qinglei was waiting for him. Seeing him enter, Meng smiled warmly. "Today, Wenxiu Shitai and Tian Xunzi came up the mountain, willing to assist in the matter of the Dissolute Shop. With their help, the Sword Association gains formidable strength." Tang Lici smiled faintly. "It is my fortune to have the support of Shitai and the senior master." He picked up the cold tea on the table, took a shallow sip, and exhaled softly. "How many people did the two seniors bring?" Meng Qinglei replied, "One hundred and twenty-two. All the Sword Association's lodgings are fully occupied now. Many of Shitai's followers are young women, so it might not be suitable for them to stay with the others." Tang Lici nodded. "How are the chefs sent from Ningyuan County?" Meng laughed. "The chefs from Ten Thousand Apertures House are naturally skilled. Everyone has been praising them." Tang Lici gave a slight smile. "Then have the kitchen prepare a vegetarian banquet. I will host a welcoming dinner for Shitai and her party tonight." After a pause, he pondered, "As for the lodging for the Emei Sect members, have them move into Lotus Residence first. I will arrange more suitable accommodations later."
"But isn’t Lotus Residence currently occupied by Miss A Shui? Cheng Daxia even ordered everyone to stay away," Meng Qinglei said in surprise. "If Wenxiu Shitai moves in, where will Miss A Shui go?" Tang Lici replied, "Have her move into the small side room with Ziyun." Meng was taken aback again. "The small side room..."
The small side room was where maids and servants lived. The Hall of Sharp Virtue had few servants—only Ziyun, two sweepers, two tea-serving boys, and three chefs—so the living conditions were naturally inferior to Lotus Residence. By moving A Shui there, Tang Lici was essentially treating her as a servant. Though Meng found it strange, he prioritized the larger situation. "I’ll send someone to clean Lotus Residence immediately." Tang Lici nodded and exhaled faintly. "If you run into Yu Furen, tell him to come see me." Meng Qinglei, steady by nature, asked no questions and left to carry out the orders.
Good Cloud Mountain was growing more crowded, and morale had reached its peak. Tang Lici sat down, resting his snow-white fingers against his temple. With their current manpower, they might not be at a disadvantage against the Dissolute Shop, which had been operating for ten years. But the more numerous and varied the forces, the greater the risk of backlash. How many had taken the Ape-Demon Nine Hearts Pill? How many had Yu Konghou recruited during the Central Plains Sword Association? How many spies had been planted? All remained unknown.
To decide to fight was to ensure victory.
Without the antidote for the Ape-Demon Nine Hearts Pill, no matter how many forces the Central Plains Sword Association gathered, it would all be in vain.
He sat for a while longer, took another sip of the cold tea, and then the door creaked open as Yu Furen entered.
"Lici." After the battle at Camellia Prison, Yu Furen had initially addressed him as "Young Master Tang," then "Tang Lici," and now simply by his given name. "News from Jihe Valley—the antidote..." He lowered his voice. "There might already be a lead."Tang Lici's eyes flickered slightly. "Was anyone following you on your way here?" Yu Furen smiled faintly. "No." Though young, he was no fool; after the Yu Qifeng incident, he had grown even more composed. Tang Lici sighed softly. "How is Fang Pingzhai?" Yu Furen pondered for a moment. "He seems to have made considerable progress in the Sound Assassination Technique, wholly dedicated to it." Tang Lici's brows furrowed slightly. "And Liu Yan?" Yu Furen cleared his throat. "His elixir crafting has borne fruit. He wrote you a letter, but he appears quite agitated—perhaps from living among those poisonous herbs these past months."
"A letter?" Tang Lici asked. "What letter?" Yu Furen removed his outer robe, revealing a thin oilcloth packet sewn into the lining. Seeing this, Tang Lici chuckled, and Yu Furen couldn't help but laugh as well. "I feared encountering Liu Yan's enemies on the road, but even if this letter were intercepted, I doubt anyone could decipher it." He opened the packet and withdrew a sheet of white paper covered in charcoal scribbles—characters that were not of the Central Plains script. Yu Furen couldn't read a single word and had no idea what it said.
Tang Lici took it, glanced at it, then placed it on the table, lost in thought for a moment. "He feels agitated, you say?" Yu Furen nodded. "Even the scent of those poisonous herbs unsettles me." Tang Lici tapped the table lightly with his fingers. "Very well. Use the same method you came by to discreetly send A Shui and Yu Tuan'er to Jihe Valley." Yu Furen looked puzzled. "Send A Shui and Yu Tuan'er to Jihe Valley?" Tang Lici nodded. "Keep it quiet. Though the journey is perilous, sending more people would only draw unwanted attention." Yu Furen smiled. "Delivering two people isn't an issue, but will sending these two women to Jihe Valley truly ease his mind?" Tang Lici's eyelids lowered slightly. "It might vex him further." He waved his hand. "Send them away tonight."
Yu Furen nodded and turned to leave but suddenly paused. "How many hours have you slept these past few days? How much wine have you drunk?" Tang Lici smiled faintly. "How much wine... truly, I've lost count..." He rested his head on his hand, looking utterly exhausted. "Go on."
"Wine harms the body. Even with your tolerance, you shouldn't indulge so recklessly," Yu Furen said. "Upon returning to the mountain, I heard many praising you—drinking with the Qingcheng Sect yesterday, the Nine Blades Sect the night before, and the Flying Star Moonlight brothers this morning. All speak of your boldness, elegance, and peerless charm." He sighed. "You bear many old wounds. Even if not for the Central Plains Sword Association, you should take care for your own sake." Tang Lici's red lips curved slightly. "Old wounds? You owe me a sword strike... Shen Langhun owes me a blade..." His smile was that of a dashing nobleman, leaning against a railing or tossing gold without a care. "For my sake, both of you should take care. Drinking doesn't weary me—but risking your lives for me does."
"You..." Yu Furen knew Tang Lici wouldn't heed advice, sighing in vain. "Go rest soon. I'll take good care of the two ladies." Tang Lici nodded, watching as Yu Furen left. The sky darkened gradually, and the evening banquet with the Emei Sect drew nearer, yet he had no appetite at all.He had no desire to sleep either, his mind swirling with countless thoughts—Fang Zhou, Chi Yun, Liu Yan, Shao Yanping, Xue Xianzi... The fates of thousands rested on his shoulders. If he hadn’t told Chi Yun, "Go and bring Shen Langhun and Liu Yan back to me," if he hadn’t been injured in Luoyang, perhaps Chi Yun and Shao Yanping wouldn’t have died.
The oil lamp flickered dimly to life, casting shadows of many figures in its glow. He stared fixedly at them. Sometimes he knew they were illusions; other times, he didn’t.
When both body and mind were utterly exhausted, he longed for someone to help him. But the thought of needing help was one he dared not entertain, and the words themselves were ones he would rather die than speak.
Two soft knocks sounded at the door. It opened, but the person outside didn’t enter—it was a young servant carrying tea. "Young Master, the vegetarian banquet is ready. Hero Meng, Hero Cheng, and Senior Dong request your presence."
Tang Lici smiled faintly. "I understand."
Winter snow scattered, and new buds sprouted on the trees.
In the Jigu Valley of Fengming Mountain, the coldest season of the year was gradually passing. Here, natural orchards flourished, and the streams ran clear, teeming with a black fish resembling carp—its flesh tender and delicious, with no small bones to trouble the eater. In winter, the woods were home to grouse and foxes, while summer brought an abundance of wild fruits, along with pheasants and ducks. On the cliffs flanking the valley, herds of mountain goats leaped nimbly even in the deepest cold. Tang Lici’s claim that this land was bountiful was no exaggeration.
The rhythmic beat of drums filled the air, precise and stirring. Fang Pingzhai played freely, his unrestrained singing harmonizing with the drumming—a picture of carefree elegance. Liu Yan leaned on his cane as he slowly made his way to the stream’s edge, gazing at the water where the snow had just melted. The surface reflected a pair of slightly frenzied eyes, their gaze seemingly cold, yet filled with confusion deep within.
Lonely Branch Like Snow was a drug, and so was the Ape-Demon Nine Hearts Pill—a special kind of drug.
He stared at the water. He and Tang Lici had grown up together, with the Tang family funding his education. He lived up to expectations, gaining admission to M University’s pharmacology program. At one point, he had wanted to join the school’s renowned pharmaceutical research institute, but in the end, he gave it up because Tang Lici had decided to travel to Europe that year. He also failed to submit his thesis in his final year, missing out on his postgraduate degree. Back then, Tang Lici had gone to Germany to see the snow, and once again, he had become his bodyguard.
University, the research institute, Germany, Europe... all of it was so long ago now. He forced himself to forget. The stream murmured softly, its surface as smooth as jade, reflecting his disfigured face.
Drugs were not conventional poisons, which made crafting an antidote difficult. The reason addiction was so hard to break was that once hooked, aside from the physical withdrawal symptoms, it also created an intense psychological craving. This craving drove addicts to pursue the drug by any means necessary, and the root of this craving lay in the drug’s stimulation of a specific region of the brain. The Ape-Demon Nine Hearts Pill worked by stimulating the brain to push martial arts beyond their limits—meaning its effects on the brain were even stronger. But once the drug was stopped, the withdrawal symptoms became more pronounced, and breaking free from the psychological dependence grew even harder.He had pondered this for a long time. Once brain neurons were damaged or altered, recovery was extremely difficult. To suppress the intense psychological cravings, it was necessary to interfere with and inhibit the brain regions responsible for generating those signals, reducing their activity efficiency.
It was easy to poison an entire brain with drugs, but to poison only part of it while keeping the rest functional was far more challenging. And to attempt suppressing activity in a specific brain region using the scarce drugs at hand—without impairing overall brain function—was nearly impossible.
Moreover, the brain regions responsible for psychological cravings were also those governing emotions. The slightest miscalculation could alter a person's temperament, turning warmth into indifference or stripping away the ability to comprehend emotions, reducing them to mere walking corpses. Even if the activity of these regions could be successfully suppressed, once the intense craving period passed, the brain would develop a dependency on the suppressants themselves. Abrupt withdrawal could then trigger manic episodes.
By his estimates, the psychological craving period induced by withdrawal from the Ape-Demon Nine Heart Pill would last at least seven months. After that, to prevent withdrawal-induced mania, the antidote would need to be tapered off gradually—a process that might take another six months or more. Even if his suppressants worked, breaking free from the pill's toxicity would require at least a year and a half, if not longer.
Most people simply wouldn't last that long.
He felt utterly lost. Was he even heading in the right direction? Perhaps he should abandon the suppressant approach altogether and search for a new drug—some miraculous antidote capable of directly neutralizing the Ape-Demon Nine Heart Pill's toxicity. Or maybe he should focus solely on eliminating the toxins causing rashes and itching, ignoring the withdrawal symptoms altogether?
The path ahead was shrouded in fog. The antidote was urgently needed, non-negotiable—yet he had no idea which direction to take. He lacked confidence in himself and in everyone else. He didn’t believe he could develop a suppressant that met the requirements, nor did he believe that thousands of addicts could adhere to a strict antidote regimen for a year and a half. If he created an antidote that most couldn’t follow through with, what was the point? Only a handful—the exceptionally disciplined few—would be saved.
If it were A-Li, he would undoubtedly say: There’s always another possibility. But now he understood—A-Li’s decisiveness and confidence didn’t always stem from rational deliberation. He often made bold claims before even conceiving a solution, simply because he never needed a plan to begin with. He believed he could achieve anything.
That was Tang Lici’s style, not Liu Yan’s. Just as an inability to endure failure was Tang Lici’s tragedy, it had never been Liu Yan’s.
He had always been a failure—someone accustomed to mistakes. What did it matter if he erred again?
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