Chapter 71

These yin elements were coaxed and deceived back by the hero’s pure yang inner breath. Under the operation of the foundation-building breath regulation method, they transformed into a vast and gentle pure yang inner breath.

The continuous flow of pure yang inner breath circulated within the body, strengthening the muscles, bones, skin, and internal organs. After completing a small cycle, it returned to the gourd heart, where it was absorbed by the soul emblem inside, accumulating in the strand of pure yang breath stored there.

Time passed, and with a roar from a bear, the hero advanced to the ninth level of ability awakening, causing a subtle qualitative change in the strand of pure yang breath.

The yin elements within the scorpion were too abundant; only two-tenths had been absorbed so far. The hero did not stop after advancing to a minor level but instead attacked even more fiercely.

He aimed to reach the tenth level of ability awakening. This was a rare opportunity, and the gourd heart greedily sucked the yin elements from the scorpion.

The more strength he gained, the better his chances of survival.

As the hero continuously pushed his strength to new levels, the scorpion’s skin, as white as sheep’s fat, intertwined with the hero’s body. Their physical bodies were entangled but not joined, while their spirits and souls merged.

The merging of spirits and souls strengthened both, but the hero took full advantage of the situation, monopolizing all the benefits. The scorpion’s soul gradually weakened during the merging.

When the scorpion realized she was at the mercy of the hero, it was too late. She was like a fish on a cutting board.

The hero’s voice, coarse and savage, laughed during the merging: “I will make you taste what it’s like to be a fish on a cutting board. For as long as I was toyed with by the Dragon Emperor, I will take even more interest from you. This is a profitable business.”

The scorpion finally felt fear, but it was too late. Her life and death were no longer in her control. As her spirit merged with the hero’s, the yin elements flowed out uncontrollably.

The gourd, unable to consume everything, packed the excess. It left only one-tenth of the yin elements in the scorpion’s body, storing the rest in the gourd heart. It could be saved for a midnight snack!

Time passed, and the hero, drenched in sweat, lay in the car. One hand held a cigarette, and the other pointed to the sky. The most delightful thing in life was to ride a horse and gallop over one’s enemy, both for pleasure and for training and fitness.

The hero’s war vehicle sped along on autopilot. Suddenly, the navigation system warned: “Please note, you are ten kilometers from Beining City. The city is crowded with people and vehicles. To avoid accidents, the autopilot will stop in five seconds.”

A black war vehicle stopped five miles outside Beining City. A tired-looking girl stepped out of the car, not wanting to look back at the shameless man.

A thin man picked up a pair of high heels and shook them at the scorpion: “Miss, your shoes.”

They had arrived at their destination, and it was time to return the scorpion’s living soul emblem.

Hearing this voice, which felt like a thousand needles piercing her heart, the scorpion’s nails dug deep into her palms. A myriad of emotions surged within her. She regretted volunteering to escort this man back. She hated herself and the hero. She wanted to tear him apart, but she had no abilities left in her body.

Would the hero leave his enemy with the strength to kill him? He had drained nine-tenths of the scorpion’s yin elements and all her abilities. As long as the scorpion was not completely disabled, she could slowly recover her yin elements and abilities.

After throwing the scorpion’s shoes out of the car, the hero stuck his head out and said, “Miss, our journey was very pleasant. I look forward to a more passionate date when your yin elements are fully restored.”

The scorpion’s body trembled, and she spat out two words, “You are shameless.”

“Shamelessness is also a skill!” the hero grinned, answering.

He stepped on the gas, and the war vehicle shot off like an arrow, disappearing at the end of the road. The car’s exterior changed as it sped, transforming into a black sports car within seconds.

Beining City was a peaceful coastal town. This small city, covering fifty square kilometers, had a population of only ten thousand.

Though small, the city had bustling streets and crowded supermarkets.

The city’s liveliness was less frenzied and more vibrant. In the noisy square, aunties danced, and on the park benches, they gathered to discuss the rising prices of daily necessities.

A black sports car drove into a green willow alley in Beining City. The low engine hum did not disturb the uncles walking under the trees but attracted the attention of the aunties chatting at the door about who had given birth to a girl.

The low hum of the luxury sports car won the aunties’ favor, but their gossipy nature could not be contained. They were curious about who was in the car.

When the car stopped in front of a wattle fence, and a thin young man stepped out, the aunties were like a pot of boiling oil: it was that little guy who had returned.

The family had lived there for ten years, and the neighbors knew all their secrets. Everyone knew that the young man was the illegitimate child of a wealthy family. But the mother and son had a hard life, having been discarded like trash for over a decade. The woman’s life was even harder; she was blind and had difficulty walking. After the young man went to study thousands of miles away, she could only move with the help of kind neighbors.

The hero looked at the old tile house within the wattle fence, and his nose tingled. The house was still the same tile house, the fence was still the same wattle fence, and the mud brick wall still had a small hole from a firecracker he had set off as a child.

He did not have such a happy childhood, but he felt happier than those who did, happy that the poor child had such a childhood. This made him realize the greatness of the woman.

Life was about having a strong heart that never gave up. The woman had achieved this, giving her son a childhood to remember.

The hero carried a large bag and a jug of peanut oil into the wattle fence.

A cobblestone path led to the mud brick house. On the left side of the path was a vegetable garden, where a cat had dug a hole and was basking in the sun. It was disturbed by the light footsteps, looked up, and ignored them, as it was not the chickens from the opposite side eating the vegetables or the children from the neighboring house stealing them.

On the right side of the path, some chickens were kept. A few old hens led a group of chicks around, and a rooster patrolled his territory.

Inside the mud brick house, clear music played, a blend of flute and cloud zither.

A middle-aged woman sat at the door, doing handicrafts.

These were tasks the neighbors had brought her to do. She relied on these to support her son’s education. Though life was hard, there was no trace of hardship on her face.

Kindness had etched a few lines on her face, and a few more white hairs had appeared in her hair.

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