Chapter 30: Skin Pill, Sinew Pill

Xu Yuan pressed his body against the door, bracing against the relentless impacts, swaying but holding firm, then quickly shoved the bolt into place.

This violent assault clearly enraged some presence—above, a golden iron whip swiftly coalesced, far more tangible than before.

CRASH!

The iron whip crashed down, but the corpse-infant had already retreated the moment it formed, swiftly retracting its blood river and rolling its fat body like a tumbling ball, vanishing beyond the town in an instant.

Its motto: no pride, only adaptability!

The whip struck the street, shaking the surrounding houses.

Xu Yuan peered through the door crack, took one look outside, and finally relaxed completely.

“We’ve made it through this ordeal.”

Xu Yuan slumped against the door; the medicinal pill inside him dissolved, its power spreading through his limbs and bones, repairing his wounds.

More than half an hour later, after stabilizing his injuries, a fierce hunger surged—he patted himself down, but found nothing edible except gold and silver.

So he rose to ransack the entire Zhao Family Leather Shop.

Behind the kitchen lay a hidden cellar, holding seventeen or eighteen ordinary weapons.

Xu Yuan devoured them all; now a Level Eight Cultivator, these common iron items were swiftly transmuted into a new golden pill within moments.

Yet the hunger hadn’t lessened much—he pried open the storage room on the shop’s top floor.

Inside were over a hundred animal hides and a dozen bundles of sinew; Xu Yuan tore them apart and ate them all!

Still, he felt faintly hungry—looked up, and spotted oddly shaped chunks of dried meat hanging above, seemingly aged for a long time.

Xu Yuan was too hungry to examine them closely; he took them down and swallowed them whole.

Finally, he let out a burp and exhaled a long, relieved breath.

Then Xu Yuan collapsed onto a bed; fire blazed in his belly, transmuting the ingested food. Drowsy, he didn’t even know when he fell asleep.

The next morning, the rooster’s crowing couldn’t wake him.

By midday, a narrow strip of bright sunlight—two fingers wide—slipped through the window crack and landed on Xu Yuan’s eyes; his eyelids twitched a few times before he finally awoke.

Xu Yuan sat up, still shaken by last night: “Nights are too dangerous.”

His arms bore deep gashes; a large chunk of skin and flesh had been sliced from his back.

The inner pill’s special ability had been used again—only one use left!

A devastating loss.

This was the cost of a single “night journey.”

“Thankfully, we didn’t cross the Lin River yesterday—if we’d added that prohibition… I wouldn’t have escaped the corpse-infant and the river alive.”

Xu Yuan rubbed his face and began inspecting himself.

The wounds on his back had healed considerably; new flesh had grown over the arm cuts—the medicinal pill was still powerful.

The animal hides and sinew he’d eaten last night had been transmuted into outer pills.

Surprisingly, he felt unusually vigorous this morning; given how much blood he’d lost, he’d expected to feel weak and drained.

Xu Yuan looked up, staring at the ceiling beams—those last pieces of meat… what were they?

He couldn’t help but suspect something.

The unexpected gain: the hides and sinew had produced two outer pills.

Xu Yuan spat them out—both pills transformed in his palm; one became a thin cord.

It resembled the iron worms that crawled out of crushed mantises when he was a child.

But much longer—about one zhang.

Xu Yuan willed it—and the cord sprang to life in his palm, writhing like a living iron worm.

Exquisitely agile, as if an extension of his own limbs!

This cord was forged from sinew—elastic and extraordinarily resilient.

Xu Yuan willed again—and the sinew cord shifted.

It shortened, thickened, then transformed in his hand into a short rod of unimaginable toughness and elasticity.

Xu Yuan muttered to himself: “It can change size and length at will… but what use is this thing?”

He couldn’t think of any.

Then he turned his attention to the other outer pill—it rapidly “melted” in his palm, enveloping his entire hand and spreading up to an inch past his wrist.

He now wore a “leather glove,” yet it didn’t dull any sensation—unbelievably thin, like wearing nothing at all!

And when he tested it, the glove’s defense was astonishing—equal to… the iron armor of the Huangming Army!

It couldn’t be cut by blades or pierced by spears.

Right now, it only covered one hand—but if he kept consuming animal hides, eventually it would cover his whole body!

Xu Yuan hadn’t expected such a windfall in the Zhao Family Leather Shop.

He’d wasted one inner pill ability last night, expecting to lose a crucial card in today’s pursuit of the Holy Nun—yet he’d gained another.

Yes, Xu Yuan had no intention of returning home yet.

The Holy Nun and her maid had both been severely wounded.

He himself had two character scrolls enhancing him, yet still hadn’t reached the town before nightfall—the two women certainly hadn’t either.

They spent last night in the mountains—if lucky, the mountain’s malevolent entities had already dealt with them.

Even if they survived, they’d be worse off than before; even three-tenths of their original strength would be generous.

Behind them stood the Pingtian Society; letting them return alive would bring endless trouble.

When there was no chance, Xu Yuan ran faster than a rabbit. But now that an opportunity had appeared, he resolved without hesitation to strike and eliminate the threat forever.

As for how to find them…

Xu Yuan found a servant’s coarse cloth outfit in the Zhao Family Leather Shop and put it on—his own clothes were nearly too torn to cover his buttocks.

Then he slipped out the back door, head down, hurrying along, avoiding all attention.

Before leaving, Xu Yuan glanced at the almanac: today’s prohibitions—Lin River, Shouting the Mountain, Raising the Beam, Formalizing an Alliance.

Xu Yuan avoided “Beauty Dam,” leaving town from another direction.

Yet someone saw him at the last moment.

Zheng Rongkui sat on the back of a caravan cart, a thick felt hat covering most of his face.

“Xu Yuan!” Zheng Rongkui muttered in surprise: “Why is he going back into the mountains? He returned to town—no one stopped him—he should’ve rushed straight back to the county seat.”

Zheng Rongkui mused for a while, then jumped off the cart, dared not follow, but slipped into a roadside teahouse to wait.

…

After entering the mountains, Xu Yuan climbed the nearest peak at top speed, then looked out.

Somewhere in the mountains, a trace resembling “fate” rose like smoke—faint yet unceasing.

Only Xu Yuan could see it.

Two traces: one thicker, one much finer.

The burned-off skin he’d shed last time had this effect: anything he’d touched could be tracked by him through this near-“seeing fate” method.

Provided they were still alive.

Xu Yuan was surprised: “After spending a night in Ghost Witch Mountain, both of them are still alive!”

The thicker trace belonged to the Holy Nun—she’d crushed the charred skin.

Xu Yuan estimated their direction, plotted a route avoiding the mountain’s strongest anomalies, then descended and raced toward them.

Ladies and gentlemen, please vote for monthly ranking—I’m too low…

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(End of Chapter)