Chapter Twenty-Two: The Blood-Soaked Qilin

Qilin blood! The astonishing thought flashed instantly through Su Ye’s mind. If it had been anyone else claiming that a metal ring contained qilin blood, they would surely be deemed insane—after all, the qilin was but a creature of myth and legend. In the present-day Huaxia, the existence of a qilin was impossible; at least, Su Ye himself had never encountered one, not even within his own family.

Su Ye hastily scraped away the rust from the ring, revealing a metal band resembling a jade bracelet. Inside, there was indeed a ribbon of blood encircling the ring. While holding it, he sensed a chilling cold, but if he gazed into it for a moment, he would see that the blood seemed like a raging sea of fire.

Just as he was about to examine it more closely, a sudden sharp pain split his palm, as though sliced by a blade, leaving a gash that bled freely. With a clang, the ring dropped to the floor.

Su Ye glanced at his wounded palm, then at the ring, and suddenly recalled the "Great Desolation Classic of Nine Provinces" he had read as a child, which had recorded tales of the qilin.

He picked up the ring once more, summoning all his strength, even the thunder within his body, which roared as he channeled his power into the ring. Blood from his palm surged forth.

Suddenly, a phantom image of a qilin appeared within the ring, its body ablaze, furious and wild, lunging directly at him. Its terrifying claws, imposing head, and flame-like fangs inspired fear with a single glance.

With a crash, Su Ye’s body shuddered and was thrown violently to the ground. Without hesitation, he clenched his fist and struck at the qilin’s head, shouting,

“Defeated wretch, how dare you act up!”

But his punch passed straight through, leaving the phantom untouched. The qilin twisted its form and, for reasons unknown, retreated entirely back into the ring.

Su Ye climbed to his feet, cautiously eyeing the ring. When the qilin did not reappear after a while, he carefully approached it.

“That wasn’t a real qilin, merely an illusion triggered by the presence of qilin blood within. Clearly, the blood inside is exceedingly precious!”

Suddenly, the thunder in his body trembled lightly, a mystical feeling washing over him—a yearning to swallow the qilin blood and merge it with his own. The sensation was strange, reminiscent of the righteous fury he’d felt when confronting evil spirits before.

It was as if slaying monsters and demons was his destined mission.

“Let me try!”

Su Ye fetched a cup, filled it with water, and dropped the ring inside. Slowly, a faint red hue seeped from the ring, dyeing the water crimson.

“It’s really qilin blood…”

Taking a deep breath, Su Ye retrieved the ring and, with a gentle gulp, drank the dyed water.

“It seems… I don’t feel anything.”

He had barely finished speaking when a thunderous roar erupted in his chest, making it impossible to grip the cup. It felt as if countless flames were burning within him.

Crash! Crash!

Su Ye overturned numerous objects in the room as he collapsed onto the floor, rolling uncontrollably. Yet in this agony, he clearly sensed his body absorbing the qilin blood.

More than half an hour passed before Su Ye, panting heavily, finally climbed up off the ground. Now, a look of indomitable resolve shone in his eyes. He seized the ring and gritted his teeth:

“One cup of water is far from enough! Come! Let’s see if you kill me, or I conquer you!”

He strode to the bathroom and filled the bathtub. Tossing the ring inside, he watched as the water turned blood red, with faint flames flickering atop the surface.

Jaw clenched, Su Ye began to undress. Despite his preparations, the sight of the flames inspired fear. Yet when he looked in the mirror, he saw the nine ferocious scars across his back.

Those were humiliations that would never fade.

“To live in cowardice is a torment! To struggle for change is a torment! Since both are torment, a choice must be made!”

With those words, he bound a towel between his teeth and stepped into the bathtub. Instantly, the blood-red water and flames boiled, transforming into savage qilins that lunged at him.

Roaring—

Su Ye had never endured such pain; every inch of his body, every vein felt as if it would be torn apart. He howled with agony, his face twisted, veins bulging in his neck, and his eyes wide to the point they seemed ready to burst.

“Ah!! Ah—”

Several times, Su Ye nearly lost consciousness, but each time, in the last instant, the two ancient characters "Yan" and "Huang" seen within the thunder flashed through his mind, and he stubbornly endured.

Though he longed to escape the tub, he knew the qilin blood was immensely beneficial to him.

He desired many things, all costly, and so he must pay a price others could never bear.

Roaring—

At that moment, Su Ye was like a blood-soaked qilin, fiercely resisting again and again.

A single minute felt like an eternity.

Meanwhile, Su Ye sensed that within his body, a long-dormant second acupoint was suddenly opened. His bones crackled, as if infused with the qilin blood, even making him grow taller.

But he had no mind to check; he had lost all sense of his body, lying powerless in the tub, eyes tightly shut.

Until noon the following day.

He heard crisp knocking at the door, and slowly opened his eyes to find himself still soaking.

“I’ve been soaking all this time?”

He examined his hands and noticed something strange—despite the long immersion, his skin had not wrinkled. The water, once crimson, was now clear.

The qilin blood had vanished.

He fished the ring from the water and saw it had returned to a normal state, with no trace of blood left inside.

Knock, knock, knock!

The knocking continued, and a girl’s voice called out, “Young master, it’s nearly lunchtime!”

Su Ye leapt from the tub, feeling a surge of vigor and boundless energy—a vitality he had not felt in ages.

Donning a robe, he opened the door to find a cute, dainty young maid standing before him. She wore a maid’s uniform, her cheeks flushed, large round glasses perched on her nose, and her figure—especially the front—so exaggerated it seemed she struggled to stand upright.

“Xiaodie, didn’t I tell you not to call me for meals?” Su Ye recognized her as Jiang Liuying’s personal maid.

Xiaodie, only one meter fifty tall, looked up at Su Ye and blushed again. She nervously clutched her apron and whispered,

“Young master, I’m sorry to disturb you! But today your aunt and cousin have returned, so, so I had to come get you.”

“Li Weiqiang is here? Fine, I know. I’ll change and come down.” Su Ye frowned—why had that fellow come?

“Mm.” Xiaodie nodded gently, turned to leave, but after a few steps, she glanced back, cheeks still rosy: The young master seems taller?

But then she remembered the aunt and cousin waiting downstairs, and her confidence faded.

Because of Jiang Liuying’s family situation—her father had no sons to inherit the business—relatives and friends were always eyeing the Jiang family’s fortune.

This aunt and cousin were among the most frequent visitors.

Su Ye dressed and slowly walked to the living room. After a night of cultivation, he was famished.

He had barely entered when he saw a young man lounging carelessly, instructing the servants to prepare wine for lunch.

When the youth saw Su Ye, he sneered,

“Well, well, why does this worthless wretch still cling to the Jiang family?”