...Three breaths.
The night moon hung in the sky.
The waves on the Quchi were calm.
A melodious tune praising the moon drifted through the air.
Carried on the gentle breeze were the faint sounds of catchy poetry recitations and women’s cheerful laughter.
On the Painted Boat.
Chen Yi watched the middle-aged Confucian Scholar, his expression calm as he said, "It seems my luck is quite good."
The middle-aged Confucian Scholar—or rather, Yan Fusha—stared at him blankly, seemingly not expecting him to be so calm, so decisive.
After a moment of silence.
A smile bloomed on Yan Fusha’s simple face, followed by a burst of hearty, unrestrained laughter.
"You’re not afraid."
"You’re actually not afraid... HAHA..."
"Aren’t you afraid of death?"
His laughter was loud, his tone inscrutable.
It carried far across the Quchi, which was illuminated by the glow of lanterns.
After a good while, the laughter died down.
Yan Fusha looked at Chen Yi and asked with a smile, "Are you truly not afraid of death?"
Chen Yi gently set down the medicine vial and replied nonchalantly, "Everyone is afraid."
"Then why... Is it because of that little bastard from the Pei Family?"
"Yes."
The smile on Yan Fusha’s face faltered. He sized Chen Yi up for a moment, then shook his head. "What a pity."
He didn’t elaborate on what was a pity.
And Chen Yi, naturally, wouldn’t ask.
’From the moment I was brought to this Painted Boat, everyone here has had only one identity: a mortal enemy!’
With these thoughts in mind, Chen Yi scanned his surroundings from the corner of his eye and asked:
"What’s next?"
Yan Fusha’s expression completely returned to its former state. "We’ll consider this the first act, and Mr. Qingzhou has passed."
"I will honor our agreement and send you the antidote within three days."
Chen Yi gave a noncommittal nod. "Thank you."
’The potent poison in my body can still be suppressed for some time.’
’Three breaths... Heh.’
Seeing that Chen Yi was still just as calm, Yan Fusha said with a faint, mocking smile:
"For the second act, I originally planned to throw you into the Quchi and see whether the Painted Boat is faster or you swim faster."
Chen Yi froze, looking at him with a hint of surprise.
’This man...’
’He’s seriously sick in the head.’
When Yan Fusha saw his expression, his smile widened slightly.
"But seeing Mr. Qingzhou’s remarkable composure, I feared an ordinary play would hardly be worthy of your attention."
"Therefore, I had no choice but to present some more... interesting little things for you."
As he spoke, Yan Fusha clapped his hands.
Two figures completely clad in black emerged from within the Painted Boat and placed the jars they were holding on the table.
Yan Fusha pointed at the jars and said, "These are the ’Poison Jars’ my sect uses for practicing the Martial Arts."
"During the refinement process, we place Poisonous Insects like snakes, bugs, centipedes, spiders, and toads inside and let them fight each other to the death."
"Only the one that ultimately survives is deemed worthy of being refined by us."
As he spoke, Yan Fusha took one of the jars and slapped open the seal on top.
A pungent, foul stench immediately wafted out.
Chen Yi looked at the two jars. This time, he truly couldn’t guess the man’s intentions.
Before he could think too deeply, Yan Fusha continued, "The refinement is now in its final stage. There is one Poisonous Insect left in each of the two jars."
"Mr. Qingzhou, why don’t you take a guess as to which Poisonous Insect will be the final survivor?"
Chen Yi looked at the Poison Jar in his hand. "Guess?"