Chapter 683: [Strange Fruit] (Part 1)

The giant python lingered for a while before finally leaving; Hu Xiaotian opened his eyes again, but even this simple movement now felt extraordinarily taxing, his eyelids swollen, his eyes reduced to a narrow slit. He wanted to breathe, yet felt a suffocating sensation in his throat; silently cursing his bad luck, and relying on his extensive medical knowledge, he determined that his throat had swollen from an allergic reaction and required an immediate tracheotomy and intubation—yet even this basic first‑aid measure was beyond his ability.

Hu Xiaotian felt his head heavy and hazy; moving even a step became extraordinarily difficult. He had intended to step over the corpse, but his impaired movement caused him to stumble, losing balance and crashing heavily to the ground. He felt no pain at all—his nerves throughout his body had gone numb.

Could I really have died so pointlessly? Despair began to fill Hu Xiaotian's mind. He thought of his parents, Long Xi Yue, Murong Feiyan, Baobao, Zhou Mo, Xiao Tianmu, and Zhan Peng—the brothers who had shared life‑and‑death battles with him—as well as Xi Yan, Qiqi, and Xu Mi Tian… It seemed he would never see them again… He didn't even have the strength to stand up.

Suddenly, a tall figure in red appeared before him—Ji Feihua stood hovering in midair, gazing at him coldly and shouting sternly: 'Get up! You haven't finished the mission Zajia entrusted to you. Don't you care about your parents' lives anymore?'

Hu Xiaotian shook his head and silently said to himself: 'Farewell—I came here for no reason, and I'm dying in utter misery.'

Before his eyes appeared the scene of his parents weeping, tears streaming down their faces. Hu Xiaotian forced his eyes open, knowing that if he closed them now he would never open them again. The vision vanished instantly, leaving no trace. Then he caught a faint fragrance in his breath, and the orange fruit ahead had turned a vivid red. Hu Xiaotian thought he was hallucinating, unable to discern colors, yet a sliver of clarity in his mind told him the fruit might be different—otherwise why would the purple giant python treasure it so? Perhaps it could detoxify, though he couldn't be sure.

Since ancient times, who has not died? After all, I've lived two lives—one more death makes no difference. Even if this fruit cannot detoxify, the python values it so highly that, before I die, I want to make it regret its choice. If it weren't for this damned python, I wouldn't be in this predicament. With that thought, Hu Xiaotian reached out, but found his joints stiffened from swelling; he strained to inch forward, his mouth inching closer. A distance of less than a foot nearly drained all his strength.

After great effort, his lips finally reached the red fruit. Hu Xiaotian took it into his mouth and, with all his strength, crushed it. A stream of spicy juice slid slowly down his throat; where the juice passed, it felt as if a sharp blade had sliced the flesh. The intense pain made his body spasm, accompanied by a sensation as if his throat were being torn open anew—the previously swollen throat seemed to crack open a slit, allowing foul air to enter his nasal passages. The urgent feeling of suffocation began to ease.

Although the fruit's medicinal properties were unknown, Hu Xiaotian judged it could alleviate his allergic symptoms. Despite its spiciness, it revived his numb nerves; he gritted his teeth against the bite and chewed the whole red fruit to pieces, fearing that throat swelling might obstruct his airway, so he even crushed the seed completely.

Moreover, the spiciness turned bitter; Hu Xiaotian swallowed the red fruit whole. Lying in the mire, he felt a sense of emptiness, a ball of blazing fire rising in his abdomen, as if his whole body were about to ignite. His lower abdomen's Dantian Qi Sea resembled a dormant volcano that began to boil and erupt, scorching magma surging through his meridians. This sensation was worse than swallowing seven Scorching Yang Burning Yin Pills at once; he felt as though he were being roasted over a fire.

Hu Xiaotian shifted his body slightly and saw the swelling on his palm receding at a visible speed. By the glow of the green leaf, he noticed his skin tone deepening rapidly. He inwardly gasped, 'Have I been burned?' It seemed every joint crevice was about to spew fire; his meridians had turned into rivers of molten lava flowing through his body, his pores into volcanic vents, and the damp mud around him, heated by his body's heat, began to steam.

Hu Xiaotian moved his hands and feet, discovering to his amazement that his mobility had been restored. He dared not delay; despite the pain he sat up and began to regulate his breath with the Formless Divine Skill, needing to draw back the rivers of molten lava coursing through his body into his Dantian Qi Sea—only thus could he possibly prevent his meridians from rupturing and killing him.

Under the reverse flow of the Formless Divine Skill, the meridians finally began to reflux into his Dantian Qi Sea. As his cultivation progressed, Hu Xiaotian's lower abdomen grew ever hotter, visibly bulging outward; if this continued, his whole body would explode like an overinflated balloon.

Hu Xiaotian had no choice but to redirect the scorching qi within his Dantian Qi Sea back into the meridians, an endless cycle; only this could ease the pain. Yet after three circuits, the internal heat not only failed to diminish but intensified, his abdomen and chest both beginning to swell outward.

Hu Xiaotian felt the urge to shout loudly, but he dared not, fearing to summon the purple giant python. Scorching inner energy poured into his right arm; he could even hear the sound of blood rushing through his vessels. Before his eyes appeared a vast river of lava, branching into countless tributaries, each splitting into hundreds of streams, each stream into millions of rivulets, these tiny streams permeating every part of his body.

Hu Xiaotian realized his consciousness was clouding again; what he saw was essentially a map of his blood vessels, unlike the anatomical diagrams he'd studied—there the vessels carried blood, but his carried fire. He dared not continue circulating inner energy with the Formless Divine Skill; doing so would not extinguish the fire but rather fuel it, inevitably blowing him to ashes. His belly began to swell again, like a woman five months pregnant.

Hu Xiaotian's gaze fell on the plant that now had only three leaves left, its glow beginning to fade. Without hesitation, he plucked a leaf, thinking, 'If I'm to die, I'll die—I won't leave you even a single leaf, so that purple giant python will suffer for a lifetime.'

The leaf entering his throat brought a cool sensation, and the internal heat eased somewhat. Without further ado, Hu Xiaotian uprooted the whole plant; only then did he discover that beneath it grew a rootstock resembling an onion. He peeled away the outer skin, revealing an orchid‑colored sheen inside. He didn't bother checking for poison or taste, gulping down the stalk in a few mouthfuls. As the fruit slid into his stomach it left a mint‑like coolness, and thin clear currents flowed into his bloodstream.

Hu Xiaotian was overjoyed—he realized the fruit above was heating in nature while the rootstock was cooling; their combination might dispel his troubles. He immediately focused his mind and held his breath, once again using the Formless Divine Skill to circulate his meridians. Trickling clear currents flowed into his meridians, which resembled rivers of lava; the hot and cold sensations swiftly merged, turning the overbearing, rigid qi into a gentle spring breeze that scoured his meridians, spreading rapidly through his body, each passage reducing his pain by a notch.

After three circuits of inner energy through his meridians, there was nothing abnormal left. Hu Xiaotian drew a deep breath and opened his eyes; the luminous plant was gone from the cavern, leaving it pitch‑black, yet he could see his surroundings clearly. He raised his hands and saw that his palms had returned to normal, only darkened to a brown‑black hue; surely his skin had taken on the same color—but compared to having snatched back his life, what did outward appearance matter?

Hu Xiaotian stood up and only then noticed the corpse that the giant python had just dragged in. He approached the body, turned it over, and from the attire judged it to be a Black Hu warrior. From the warrior he took a longsword and a crossbow, though the crossbow had been expended and was useless; he sheathed the sword, which could still serve for defense should he encounter the python. Since the python does not eat dead matter, it must have dragged the corpse here to use its rotting flesh as fertilizer for the very plant he had just eaten.

Hu Xiaotian took a step forward, but his foot struck something hard. He bent down, plunged his hand into the mire, and pulled out a broken sword. He reflected that evidently many had died in this cavern before, all dragged here by the purple giant python to serve as fertilizer.

He took a few more steps, and his foot struck something else. Curious, Hu Xiaotian pulled out the hard object again—this time it was a skull. The silt below held many artifacts, but his most urgent thought now was to escape with his life, not to hunt for treasure in this pitch‑black, foul‑smelling cavern. He gripped his longsword tightly and headed toward the exit; after a few steps his foot hit a sword hilt. He reached into the mire and drew out the sword, never expecting it to be so heavy. He exerted great effort to drag it from the mud; this sword was considerably larger than an ordinary blade—about four feet five inches long, its widest point at the hilt, roughly half a foot wide, tapering gradually toward the tip. The hilt was long enough for a two‑handed grip. He swung it once and felt it handled better than the longsword; against the giant python, such a heavy weapon might prove more effective. (To be continued... ^~^)