Feeding Medicine to the Serpent

In the forest beside the Western Fortress, Wang Xiaojun led Lingling deeper into the trees.

"Are you sure it hasn't turned?" Lingling asked, tilting her head with genuine concern.

"I'm not entirely sure either. It responded to me that night, but I can call it with this flute." Wang Xiaojun said, already pulling a small flute from his pocket.

He raised it to his lips and blew hard. The sound was like a whistle carved from leaves — sharp, yet strangely beautiful — and it carried far through the dense forest.

The notes lingered and echoed. Lingling raised her head and scanned the surroundings, but there was no sign of any gray eagle anywhere.

Wang Xiaojun kept playing for a long time. The only response was the chirping of insects. He lowered the flute, looking crestfallen. "Maybe I was being naive. Even purebred Celestial Eagles can't resist the pressure of a Sovereign-class creature — a mixed-blood eagle can endure even less of that mental force."

"Try again," Lingling encouraged. "Maybe it's just further away."

Wang Xiaojun gazed into the distance, raised the flute to his lips again, and was just about to blow when a cry rang out from the treetops.

The cry was as melodious and clear as the flute itself — a sound Wang Xiaojun knew better than any other. It was the gray eagle he had raised from a chick!

Every Celestial Eagle in the Western Fortress had been ruthlessly executed, yet the gray eagle's impure bloodline had, ironically, saved its life. What delighted Wang Xiaojun even more was that the eagle still obeyed him completely — it came soaring toward him with unmistakable joy, landed at his side, and nuzzled its head against him.

It hadn't turned. It was exactly the same as always.

His heart bursting with emotion, Wang Xiaojun threw his arms around the gray eagle and patted its head. "You know what? We're going to do something great. In the military, we've always been looked down on, always dismissed — but if we pull off this mission, the entire Western Fortress will see us differently. Isn't this exactly what we've been waiting for?"

The gray eagle seemed to understand every word. It let out an excited cry.

"But this mission is incredibly dangerous. If something goes wrong, we'll both die." Wang Xiaojun's expression turned earnest as he looked the eagle in the eye. "I'm scared too — but I don't want to spend my life in the army as dead weight. I want to actually do something for them. Right now, you're the only one who can help me."

The gray eagle made no sound this time. It simply spread its wings slowly — as if to say: *we move now.*

"Let's go!" Wang Xiaojun leaped onto the gray eagle's back. Once he was seated, he turned to Lingling. "Wait here for me. As soon as I have the Eagle Red Grass, I'll send it to the Western Fortress right away."

"I'll guide you along the safest route I can, but I can't guarantee your safety," Lingling said, her tone serious. "If you run into trouble, leave immediately. Don't try to be a hero — you're not strong enough to fight off the White Demon Eagles."

Wang Xiaojun smiled and gave Lingling a slightly rough military salute, then patted the feathers at the gray eagle's neck. The eagle beat its wings and launched skyward, clearing the treetops in seconds.

Lingling craned her neck and watched as the brave young boy and his overlooked gray eagle vanished into the dark horizon. *Who would have thought that Hangzhou's crisis would fall on the shoulders of a seventeen-year-old?* She paused. Though she supposed she was only eleven herself...

"Got it. Let's hope he and that gray eagle make it back safely." Mo Fan ended the call.

He glanced westward — and a chill shot through him. A vast white mass of feathers was drawing ever closer, hovering above the Western Fortress. Even from Hangzhou, he could see countless spells of destruction blooming through the night like death fireworks.

The Mages of Hangzhou were already fighting desperately. He could only hope they held on long enough for Wang Xiaojun to bring back the Eagle Red Grass. Otherwise, the casualties in this battle would be beyond counting.

But none of that was something Mo Fan could deal with right now. His priority was the Totem Xuan Serpent.

The shipment of Blood Serum contaminated with Plague Blood was already en route. There was an enormous quantity of the contraband — pulling an entire truckload would barely make a dent — and since it was clearly unfit for human use, it might as well go toward the Totem Xuan Serpent, which happened to need a massive supply.

The transport took some time. By the time the Blood Serum finally arrived at the Su Causeway, the night had fully settled in.

The Totem Xuan Serpent showed no sign of waking, so Mo Fan simply climbed up onto its massive head. Each bottle of Blood Serum was small, and asking the serpent to take its own medicine was out of the question — so Mo Fan just started jamming them in one by one, wedging the bottles between the serpent's fangs.

Don't underestimate what could seep through those gaps. High-quality Blood Serum could generate several times — sometimes over ten times — the blood yield of an ordinary human. If the Totem Xuan Serpent downed an entire truckload, even with how deep its reserves ran, it ought to recover at least two or three bars of strength.

Bottle after bottle, Mo Fan poured them in. He'd long since lost track of how much contraband value he was pouring down the serpent's throat. Before long, about seven or eight tenths of the entire truckload had disappeared.

The serum clearly had a marked effect on Totem creatures. Mo Fan could feel the Totem Xuan Serpent's presence slowly stabilizing, its vital energy beginning to return.

He was feeding it the last crate when the Totem Xuan Serpent's eyes suddenly snapped open.

Those immense pupils fixed on the tiny figure of Mo Fan perched atop its snout. Mo Fan lurched in surprise and nearly tumbled into the lake.

**Sssssss——** The serpent let out a low, resonant hiss. Mo Fan had gone completely pale. He twisted around to look at Tang Yue standing on the Su Causeway and asked in a strangled whisper, "Wh-what... what did it say...?"

Tang Yue let out a startled laugh, her eyes curving into crescents. "It's asking if there's more," she said. "And it's thanking you."

Rather than let the military destroy the remaining serum, Mo Fan figured it might as well all go toward nursing the serpent back to health. He called Leng Qing and asked her to send another truckload.

**Ssss... ssss...** The Totem Xuan Serpent hissed again.

Before Mo Fan could even ask, Tang Yue was already smiling and translating: "The big guy says it's delicious. It's enjoying it very much."

Mo Fan's mouth twitched. *This stuff is basically gutter oil — but for blood,* he thought. *I've never seen anyone enjoy gutter oil quite this much.*