Chapter Seventy-Three: Worse Than Death

Late at night, the Shen family mansion was ablaze with light, and every member had assembled. Apart from the patriarch Shen Xiao and the eldest son, there were wives, aunts, uncles, cousins—all the Shen family rarely gathered together like this.

“Son, don’t be afraid. Your mother is here, and I’ve called two master physicians for you. Nothing will happen,” Shen’s mother reassured her eldest, seeing his face grow increasingly tense. He could only respond with a dry chuckle, uglier than a cry. Others might not believe, but he had witnessed the methods of that fierce figure; this was no empty threat.

Time ticked by. The young masters and ladies of the Shen family grew impatient, unused to sitting idly at this hour, which was usually reserved for revelry.

Tick, tick, tick.

Midnight arrived. As the second hand swept past, all eyes turned to the eldest son, Shen Mo, who was so nervous he barely dared to breathe, anxiously monitoring his body for changes.

Strange—he felt nothing amiss. A glimmer of hope rose in his heart; perhaps it was just a scare? Yet, a chill crept in.

“Son, how are you? It seems nothing’s wrong,” his mother smiled.

Suddenly, Shen Mo curled up, exclaiming, “Don’t you feel cold? It’s getting colder!”

His mother immediately embraced him, only to recoil in shock. “You’re so cold—like a block of ice!”

“So cold!” Shen Mo shouted, his breath visible as a frosty plume. Upon closer inspection, ice was forming on his hair and eyebrows.

“It’s clearly a cold affliction,” Shen Xiao remained composed. “Now that it’s happened, we’ll solve it. Everyone, move aside—bring the braziers and surround Shen Mo. Second brother, join me; we’ll use our internal energy to drive out the cold.”

The others obeyed, arranging braziers around Shen Mo. Shen Xiao pressed his palms to Shen Mo’s back, attempting to expel the cold with vigorous internal energy.

By now, Shen Mo was so frozen he could not speak, his teeth chattering, body covered in pale frost, appearing from afar like a white apparition, on the verge of frostbite. Through the haze, a wave of warmth began to press from his back.

Moments later, the frost diminished, and his expression eased. The family rejoiced, believing the cold was manageable and he could be saved.

But Shen Xiao’s expression grew grave. “The cold within Mo is stubborn. Second brother, lend me your strength—we’ll combine our energies to overwhelm it.”

“Alright!” Second brother pressed his palms to Shen Xiao’s back, channeling energy.

With support, Shen Xiao doubled his output, and the frost on Shen Mo’s body visibly melted away.

Victory seemed imminent. But—

“Something’s wrong!”

With Shen Xiao’s low warning, a dreadful transformation occurred. The cold vanished, replaced instantly by intense heat. Shen Mo’s skin turned flaming red—he became a crimson figure.

“So hot!” Shen Mo wailed.

“Damn! Remove the braziers, quickly!” Shen Xiao ordered in panic. “This strange energy is bizarre—it not only assimilated Mo’s internal energy, but absorbs outside energy to grow stronger, and it can mutate!”

“What should we do, big brother?” Second brother asked.

“It’s dangerous! The strange energy is fighting back. Withdraw your power!” Shen Xiao’s face changed suddenly, and both men pulled their hands away, suffering injuries from the backlash—a trickle of blood appeared at their lips.

“Patriarch!” The family cried out in alarm, rushing to his side.

Shen Xiao wiped his mouth, waving off their concern, then asked second brother, “I think the strange energy has invaded my body too. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, just lightly injured—thanks to you shielding me, nothing abnormal,” second brother replied with a bitter smile.

“It’s killing me!” Now Shen Mo was steaming, wild with pain. His clothing was either burnt or torn off, and he dashed outside naked, finally jumping into the pond.

Shen Xiao circulated his breath, finding no trace of the invasive energy, but recalling Shen Mo’s state, his face darkened further. He ordered, “That strange energy may be assimilating my own, currently lying dormant. Split into groups—some watch over Mo, add ice to the pond. You two master physicians, come and see if there’s any remedy.”

The family followed his instructions. The two esteemed doctors examined Shen Xiao with every method at their disposal, working up a sweat, yet finding nothing unusual.

An hour passed without progress. Then a servant ran in: “Patriarch, the young master isn’t hot anymore!”

No sooner had he spoken than a howl resounded.

“It’s itching me to death!”

A crowd carried Shen Mo inside, holding him down. Why? Because he had changed again—now a green figure, with a savage expression, frantically scratching everywhere, the deep-seated itch intensifying. He tore his skin, but it didn’t help. Without restraint, he would have scratched himself bloody.

“Sedate him! Put him to sleep!” Someone shouted. People scrambled to inject him, but it was useless. Other medicines failed too, triggering something even worse.

“It hurts, it hurts!” Suddenly, Shen Mo ceased itching and cried out in agony. His skin turned yellow, covered with countless moving lumps, as if something was growing beneath, resembling the symptoms of gout.

Those who witnessed it felt their hair stand on end. Normally, gout in one area is unbearable; full-body gout would be unimaginable agony.

Within moments, Shen Mo was tortured to the point of vacant eyes, nearly breaking down mentally. Now, he dared not move—any motion increased the pain. He desperately wished to faint, but instead remained agonizingly conscious.

“Kill me, kill me!” Saliva streamed from his mouth as he stared at his mother, shouting.

“What a calamity! Mo, you’ll recover, stay strong!” His mother wept, unable to touch him, shaking her head as she cried. Shen Xiao approached, trying to channel internal energy into Shen Mo.

Once again, Shen Mo ceased hurting, reverted to a pale figure, and complained of cold.

Seeing this, Shen Xiao finally exhaled in relief. “This strange energy is like a cancer cell, but far more formidable—highly latent, able to assimilate internal energy, absorb external energy to strengthen itself, and even ‘infect’ others. If my guess is right, every hour, the patient suffers each torment in turn: cold, heat, itch, and pain. Any external stimulus immediately triggers the next torment. During outbreaks, the patient’s nerves are more sensitive and immune to drugs—it’s practically invincible! How could such a monstrous technique exist? At this point, we must ask the Ancestor for help.”

Shen Xiao summarized the properties of this strange energy, yet had no solution. Soon, he himself might endure the same agony. Left with no alternative, he ordered the family to watch over Shen Mo, then walked alone into the deepest part of the mansion.

“Xiao’er, is something wrong? You wouldn’t come here otherwise,” came a venerable, gentle voice as Shen Xiao approached the secret chamber.

“Father, your skill has advanced again,” Shen Xiao said with joy.

“A little progress, but still far from mastery. Speak—what brings you here?”

“Father, it’s like this…” Shen Xiao briefly recounted the events and his analysis of the strange energy. The voice sounded again, “Such a thing? Even your level of internal energy couldn’t expel it, and it invaded your body?”

“Indeed, Father,” Shen Xiao replied with a bitter smile.

“This is quite something. Well then, bring Mo here. I’ll expel the strange energy for you both. Unless the perpetrator is a Grandmaster of the Yuan Gang level, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Thank you, Father,” Shen Xiao said with relief, never doubting his father’s ability. Among the three grandmaster realms, the difference between the first and second was not great; a martial grandmaster could enter the second realm with years of diligent practice. But the third realm was far harder. Even among ten grandmasters of the second realm, only two or three might advance to the third. It was commonly said that a third-realm master could defeat a first- or second-realm grandmaster as easily as a grandmaster defeats a commoner—such was the vast disparity. Thus, third-realm grandmasters were known as great masters.

“But you must know, the gang energy of the third realm is extremely domineering. If, as you say, this strange energy assimilates internal energy, then to completely expel it, Mo will likely lose all his cultivation. As for you, by my spiritual sense, your grandmaster level can still suppress it. After I infuse you with gang energy, you’ll lose at most thirty percent of your power.”

“I am prepared for that, Father.”

“Good. Go now.”

(To be continued.)