David Thompson reached into his robe and took out a gold anklet wrapped with red thread, holding it out to Lily White. “This is yours, right? You should take it back.”

Lily White looked at her anklet and pushed it back with both hands. “Senior Thompson, you were right before, this thing is useless here. You keep it.”

David Thompson stared blankly at the golden anklet, but it was of no use to him now either. Everything he cared about had vanished.

“Um, Senior Thompson, can I use this as payment to ask you for a favor?” Lily White’s words drew David Thompson’s gaze to her.

“If you make it out of here alive, could you help me pass a message to my parents? They live at the foot of Niuxin Mountain in Liang Country. Just tell them their daughter is unfilial and cannot care for them in their old age or see them off at the end.” As she spoke of her sorrow, Lily White’s voice became choked with emotion.

“Senior Thompson, I really don’t want to trouble you, but I truly have no other way. I think they’ll take me to the pill room soon, I…”

David Thompson, his face full of despair and numbness, was shaken by these words, and a silent light returned to his eyes.

He looked at the withered grass covering him, then at the steamed buns beside him. With a tug, he stuffed the red-threaded gold anklet back into his robe.

“I keep my word. Since I took your thing before, I’ll help you.”

Lily White’s sorrowful eyes instantly lit up, but quickly dimmed again. “Senior Thompson, this won’t do, it’ll get you into trouble too.”

“Heh… do you think I’m still afraid of that now?” At this moment, David Thompson had let go. He had nothing left to lose—if everything he cared about was gone, what was there to fear?

“Alright, Senior Thompson, you’re awesome!” A male voice suddenly rang out from outside the storeroom door, startling the two inside.

As the candlelight illuminated the newcomer, they saw a grinning, sharp-featured face, with patches of yellow and white on his skin, as if he suffered from something like vitiligo.

This person took out two coarse grain buns and flatteringly placed them beside David Thompson.

“Hehehe, Senior Thompson, have some buns. When it was time for dinner, I remembered you hadn’t eaten yet, so I saved two for you.”

“You probably don’t know me, senior brother. I was born and raised with no real name, you can just call me Jack, hehehe. Just yesterday, I even gave you seventeen coins as a token of respect.”

Jack rubbed his hands nervously, his eagerness to please written all over his face. Clearly, he wanted to rely on David Thompson as a protector and avoid being used as a medicinal sacrifice—there are clever people everywhere.

David Thompson said nothing, grabbing the three slightly stale buns and wolfing them down—he hadn’t eaten all day.

Because he ate too quickly, he started to choke a bit, and Jack immediately ran out to fetch him a cup of water.

With the icy underground water washing it down, David Thompson managed to stuff all three coarse buns into his stomach.

He staggered to his feet, having lain on the ground so long his legs were numb.

Lily White reached out to help, but David Thompson pushed her away.

His gaze was fixed on the pitch-black exit of the storeroom in the distance as he staggered out.

Now, his enemy was no longer his mutated illness, but that leprous head Daoist who refined people into pills—Daniel Thompson.

When Daniel Thompson’s ugly, disgusting face appeared in his mind, a fierce hostility gradually surfaced in David Thompson’s eyes, and his teeth began to grind audibly.

Just moments ago, he had been ready to give up on life, but now he was filled with drive. The only thing left to do was figure out how to kill him!

Chapter 11: Xuan Yuan

“Only the Three-One Sage~ is a small Taiji~ Universally receives the Mandate of Catastrophe~ Bears the highest honors~ Bestows blessings and relieves calamities, saves the living and the dead, crowned above all heavens, grace spreads through the three realms, great compassion and great vows, great sage and great mercy…”

The rhythmic chanting of scripture echoed continuously in the spacious cave. All six disciples of Qingfeng Temple, including David Thompson, sat cross-legged on meditation mats, attending morning lessons with their master.

No one had a scripture in front of them; David Thompson could only mumble along with his senior brothers during the morning recitation.

While chanting, David Thompson looked up, his gaze fixed on Daniel Thompson sitting at the front. The hostility in his eyes had just surfaced when he quickly suppressed it.

He wished he could eat this disgusting man’s flesh and peel his skin, but David Thompson knew he was far too weak to be a match.

The other was powerful; he couldn’t act rashly. For now, his main task was to endure and secretly look for an opportunity.

It might be extremely difficult, and he might be discovered by Daniel Thompson and die a miserable death, but David Thompson no longer cared.

When Daniel Thompson slightly turned his body, David Thompson’s gaze quickly shifted upward, past three tall incense sticks, to the three statues placed in a hollowed-out niche in the rock wall.

The three deities, each with different features, wore yellow Daoist robes and held dusters, their eyes neither sad nor happy, gazing down at the insignificant mortals below.

There was not a trace of immortal bearing about them; in fact, they looked quite ordinary. If not for the Daoist robes, they would seem like three oversized commoners.

David Thompson had no idea who these three statues represented, but he firmly committed their appearances to memory.