“No need, you guys go ahead and eat!”
A few passing disciples from Youjian Sect politely declined Qin Feng and Qing Mu’s invitation, though everyone knew it was just a formality. If one party offered and the other refused outright, it was customary to return the courtesy.
If they actually sat down to eat together every time before a meal, that would be shameless.
“Brother Qing Mu seems pretty busy lately?”
Watching his fellow sect members leave, Qin Feng turned to Qing Mu, who was busy picking at his dishes.
“Ah, I’ve been refining pills recently. I got a prescription from somewhere else, and the pill is ready, so I’m testing it on some mice.”
Qing Mu replied with a smile.
Since Qin Feng invited him to eat last time, and again this time, the two had naturally become friends.
However, Qing Mu’s friendship with Qin Feng wasn’t because he loved food or making friends, but rather because dealing with more Youjian Sect disciples helped keep the Trickster’s existence under wraps.
Of course, it was also because Qin Feng’s character seemed genuinely good and trustworthy in Qing Mu’s eyes.
Between the two simulation worlds, Qing Mu thought that aside from Qin Feng, only Qin Shuang from the first simulation was as decent as him.
And both shared the surname Qin—quite the coincidence.
But looking now, did Qin Feng actually resemble Qin Shuang a bit?
Shaking off this dull thought, Qing Mu figured his mind had wandered; maybe kind-hearted people just shared some common facial features.
“Oh? How’s the result?”
Qin Feng didn’t ask directly about the prescription but was more concerned about the outcome.
“I’ve already poisoned many mice—they all died with bleeding from their seven orifices, bodies exploded!”
Qing Mu’s eyes widened, as if he wanted to pound his chest in frustration.
In Qin Feng’s impression, Qing Mu was a talented apprentice alchemist. He paused for a moment, mistaking Qing Mu’s complaint for bragging, and asked, “Isn’t this poison?”
“It’s true that medicine can be toxic, but this is meant to cure illnesses and save lives.”
Qing Mu wasn’t lying.
“I thought you were making some kind of poison pill.”
Qin Feng lifted his wine cup, and Qing Mu immediately clinked glasses with him.
“Not at all. Youjian Sect forbids Liuweitang from refining poison pills. That’s a rule I’ve known since day one.
If I really made poison pills, I guess you’d be the first to catch me, right?”
Qing Mu laughed.
“Am I really that heartless?”
Qin Feng scoffed, pointing at Qing Mu’s nose: “Alright, if you ever get into trouble and fall into my hands, I promise to go easy on you, deal?”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Hearing Qin Feng’s joke, Qing Mu raised his cup, and Qin Feng readily returned the toast.
“Sigh, I’m not sure whether to inform the senior brothers. My mother said the Youjian Immortal is coming nearby soon, but I don’t know if she’ll visit Liuweitang. If they see us slackers like this… hss…”
Qin Feng stopped himself, reasoning that “If the senior brothers find out my mother knows the Youjian Immortal, it might cause unnecessary trouble.”
Qing Mu agreed with Qin Feng’s concern.
But now, he was on alert.
If the Youjian Immortal came, would she discover the Trickster hiding here?
Qin Feng swirled his wine: “Come, drink up.”
“Ah, alright.”
Though it had been a while since they last met, they only had a light drink. After clearing the dishes, they parted ways. Qin Feng planned to continue cultivating at his Liuweitang residence because he didn’t want to waste time like other disciples who only enjoyed pleasure without improving themselves.
Qing Mu was delighted.
The deadbeats were slacking off, while the truly ambitious were busy cultivating. This was the perfect opportunity for both himself and the Trickster to grow!
Too bad, the Youjian Immortal was coming.
After bidding farewell to Qin Feng, Qing Mu went to the kitchen and ordered the two dishes the Trickster had specifically requested—stir-fried tofu with pork and steamed egg custard.
He didn’t mind spending money, since he wasn’t planning to live in this world forever. Or rather, his time here would be too short to use much money.
In any case, maintaining good relations with the Trickster was top priority.
Carrying the dishes, Qing Mu returned to his small courtyard. He checked for any signs of intrusion as usual, then opened the door—and was met with a bizarre scene.
The cage he had placed under the tree was open, the mice inside gone, and a pool of fresh blood splattered beside the cage.
A trail of terrifying bloodstains stretched from the cage all the way to the alchemy room.
“Trickster?”
Qing Mu called out, but there was no response. Usually, she would answer him.
Had something really happened?
He couldn’t figure out why the Trickster would get into trouble with the mouse that had eaten his pills, but he felt on high alert.
Confirming again there was no sign of intruders, Qing Mu dashed into the alchemy room—and nearly fainted.
There lay the Trickster, sprawled on the ground, bleeding from her seven orifices, eyes rolling back, tongue sticking out, in a grotesquely exaggerated dead pose. She couldn’t look any more dead.
Immediately, Qing Mu recalled these were the same symptoms the test animals had shown.
Could it be?
The mice weren’t missing—they had been eaten by the Trickster?
But he had fed her well and spoiled her. Why would she eat mice?
Qing Mu didn’t want to dwell on such trivial questions, because it looked like the Trickster was actually dead?
Was she really dead?
“Trickster, don’t scare me… Trickster?”
Qing Mu stepped forward a few paces, wondering if the simulation had failed because its protagonist died.
How long had it been since she took the pill?
Why hadn’t her body exploded yet?
Was it because she was a fox demon that she didn’t explode?
As Qing Mu squatted in front of the Trickster, she suddenly snapped open her eyes with a sharp “gah,” her terrifying expression grasping Qing Mu’s wrist.
In a hoarse voice, she said, “You… you harmed me…”
Relieved she wasn’t dead, Qing Mu shook his head: “I didn’t make you eat that mouse.”
“You… you want to hurt me!”
The Trickster reached out to grab his neck. Qing Mu thoughtfully ducked down, and she clung to his neck, gnashing her teeth and growling that she wanted to strangle him.
Watching her struggle, Qing Mu’s face lit up with joy.
“Do you feel weak all over, lightheaded, chest tight, short of breath, like there’s a furnace inside you?”
“Ugh! You really did harm me!”
The Trickster tightened her grip, but Qing Mu smiled even wider.
“So, this is how this pill should be refined… I get it now. The dosage of that medicinal ingredient before…”
In fact, this pill was made from the recipe Qing Mu had gotten that day in the study.
Just as the old man said, Liuweitang didn’t have so-called poison pills, but what Qing Mu wanted wasn’t poison but a deterrent.
So he came up with a plan: first, make the pill sickening to the eater, then trick them into thinking it was poison that required an antidote regularly.
Without the antidote, the person would feel miserable, so they’d think it was poison and have no choice but to obey him by taking the pill to relieve the discomfort.
“Ha! Got it!”
Qing Mu laughed, knowing he now had the leverage to fight against the Saintess Yue Lan.
Meanwhile, the Trickster was crying, convinced she was dying.