Chapter 25: Sighing at Mediocrity

The night sky of Huilong City holds neither stars nor moon; there is only the ceaseless, rushing tide flowing across the water screen. If one were to turn off the lights, there would be no illumination at all—everything would be plunged into a darkness as absolute as death.

Xie An lay in the deathly stillness, a pestle held in his hand. The dark gold pestle was etched with patterns of clouds and wind, its handle shaped like a half-opened lotus blossom. It was a piece of finely wrought art, something that should have been ceremoniously enshrined during a ritual, not gripped by the greasy hand of a cook.

Xie An felt that he, too, had no business holding it. The object possessed too much spirit; even in the pitch-black night, it glowed with its own light, reflecting his unsightly face upon its lotus petals. What a shameful expression—a man in his thirties, looking as if he were on the verge of tears. Yet, the stifling sense of oppression surged from his heart, crushing the little dignity he had left. His grip loosened inadvertently. The pestle slipped and struck his forehead. It hurt. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound emerged; he shouted in silence.

Several seconds passed. Realizing his own foolishness, Xie An tightened his grip on the pestle, threw on his coat, and went out. The lights in the headquarters building were always on. He walked hesitantly toward the dormitory, pausing as he passed the lounge.

The assassin stood at the door, watching him quietly.

"Shall we talk?" Chu Hengkong asked.

"Sure," Xie An replied. "Let's talk."

On the table sat a bottle of unfinished liquor—the cheap swill Chu Hengkong had bought last time. It had been half-full; now only a third remained. Ji Huaisu was curled up on the sofa, drinking gloomily. Xie An was momentarily surprised; he had not expected the two of them to be on such good terms as to be drinking together in the middle of the night. But he quickly realized the truth: they, like him, could not sleep, and had coincidentally sought someone to talk to.

Chu Hengkong poured a glass for Xie An. "Tell us the situation?"

As he spoke, he looked at Ji Huaisu. The blonde girl finished her drink and whispered, "Actually, you can guess it. Huilong City went through a great war, and Father was severely wounded as a result. We are dedicated to maintaining order in the city precisely to allow the Lord of Huilong's power to recover, hoping to heal Father... but now it seems there is not enough time."

Chu Hengkong nodded. "What will happen if Mr. Ji dies?"

Ji Huaisu felt a flash of anger, taken aback by the coldness of the question. Xie An spoke before the tension could escalate: "Huilong City will be finished."

"Why?"

"The enemies who incited the war have not left; they are still waiting for their moment. You have seen many demons so far, but there are things outside the city far more terrifying than demons..." Xie An said softly. "Once Mr. Ji dies, they will have no more concerns. They will turn this city into a living hell."

"We still have the Lord of Huilong."

"It is not enough."

With that, everyone fell silent. The atmosphere was as stagnant as death. But Chu Hengkong remained his usual self, expressionless, his thoughts unreadable.

"Then we must find a way to save Mr. Ji," Chu Hengkong said. He spoke so naturally, as if he were capable of doing so himself. "You won't rely solely on the Lord of Huilong. Xie An, you must have a way. I heard Youyou ask you to prepare medicine."

"Yes, I can make medicine," Xie An sighed, "but I cannot make good medicine."

He placed the lotus pestle gently on the table and pushed it forward. Chu Hengkong noticed a glimmer of hope hidden in the man's eyes. He took out the Great Book of the Silver Eye and placed the pestle on its pages. Silver script generated rapidly, and the appraisal text startled him.

"This...!"

[Pure Treasury Suffering-Ending Pestle]

[Rating: Level 5]

[Origin: Zhengxuan Palace, Longquan Township]

[Effect: The "Holy Honor Cup" of the Great Being Jie Wen. It can record medicinal formulas. When used to grind medicine, it significantly enhances the effects of all concoctions. Initial preparation requires gathering ingredients; once a spiritual medicine is successfully created, it can be generated using blood and qi. Recorded formulas: 3,187]

This was the highest-level relic Chu Hengkong had ever seen—a Level 5 relic! He now understood the rating system: the level corresponded to the tier and power of the relevant point. A Level 5 relic signified that it had once belonged to a Transmuter of Point 5—a powerhouse far beyond anything they could currently imagine.

Chu Hengkong eagerly gripped the book, about to speak, when his gaze caught the final lines of text.

[Warning: Due to a forced inheritance across 5 points, the currently available formula is: 1]

[Longing: Little An, find the last ingredient. Live well.]

He realized something was wrong. If the relic could be used flexibly, Xie An would not just be a cook. The hope in Xie An's eyes vanished after reading the text; he hung his head like a dejected child.

"My father was a friend of Mr. Ji's," he said, his voice hoarse. "He risked his life to leave the city to gather herbs to heal Mr. Ji's wounds. But the world outside was too dangerous; by the time he returned, he was dying himself. Father could only entrust the pestle to me. His blood flows in my veins; only I can inherit his mantle..."

"But I am nothing but a failure! I have no talent at all. Even after inheriting the pestle, I am merely a 'foundation.' My father could create countless spiritual medicines, and I cannot even make one—not even one!"

Xie An covered his face, sobbing uncontrollably. Chu Hengkong could understand the feeling—believing everything was one's own fault. His father and elders were towering men, and he had inherited a legendary weapon only to end up a cook. This sense of powerlessness would crush anyone.

"Xie An, you haven't done anything wrong," Ji Huaisu said softly. "Uncle Wen's formulas were never complete to begin with. These past ten years, Father has only lived because of you..."

"I should have been able to complete the formulas!" Xie An roared. "I am his son!"

The man stood up abruptly, fists clenched. His shattered self-esteem, years of self-reproach, and the endless blame he heaped upon himself were like nails driven into his heart. He knew it wasn't his fault, yet he knew it was entirely his fault. Chu Hengkong now understood where that hope had come from: Xie An had pinned his hopes on finding a clue to the formulas in the pestle's appraisal, only to find an impossible final request.

That message had crushed the incompetent son; the cheerful facade he had maintained for a decade collapsed in a single night.

Ji Huaisu wanted to offer words of comfort, but her own heart was equally heavy. She noticed Chu Hengkong still wore that detached expression and felt a surge of anger at his indifference. Yet she knew it was misplaced; this outsider had done too much for Huilong City, and he was under no obligation to provide emotional support.

"Let's go back," Ji Huaisu said, squeezing her eyes shut. "We have patrols tomorrow."

Chu Hengkong sat motionless, still reading the final appraisal text. He was indeed detached, because he was still thinking. What other options were there? What other means existed to gather more information?

"Xie An, make one more batch of medicine," Chu Hengkong said slowly.

"...For what?" Ji Huaisu asked, stunned. Chu Hengkong ignored her and looked into Xie An's eyes. "Since you can't sleep anyway, go make one more."

The others were taken aback, failing to understand what he was thinking. "Alright," Xie An nodded numbly. Perhaps there was nothing else to do, or perhaps he still harbored a self-deceiving hope that the outlander's knowledge held a solution. He was gone for half an hour. When he returned, his face as pale as parchment, he held a single, dark, round pill.

"Give it to me."

Chu Hengkong took the pill and placed it on the book. He swallowed hard, hoping he would not miss his chance.

Then, script appeared on the Silver Eye book.

The silver text generated leisurely, no slower than usual. It contained the name, the effect, and the part he valued most: the "Longing"!

[Pill-Type Basic Relic - Healing]

[Rating: Level 4]

[Origin: Senluo Secret Realm - Huilong City]

[Effect: Purges external pollutants of Point 4 and below. Inhibits external pollutants below the Second Abyss.]

[Longing: The only son of the Great Being Jie Wen is of mediocre talent. He has searched for ten years and found nothing, unaware that the gold he dreams of lies in the swamp.]

The breath caught in all three of their throats. The confusion in their eyes turned to a long-awaited understanding, and then that understanding was drowned in a surging tide of hope. "What does this mean?" Ji Huaisu asked, her voice trembling. "What is 'gold'?"

"Yes, what is gold?" Chu Hengkong asked. "What could it be that Xie An dreams of?"

He could not help but smile. There had to be hope. The Great Being Jie Wen, a Point 5, could not have been a fool who demanded the impossible from his son. He had entrusted the incomplete formulas to Xie An because the final ingredient was right here in the city!

"I don't know," Xie An stammered. "There are so many possibilities. It could be the root of some plant. Or a metal. Animal scales. Or..."

His tears had not yet dried, but the corners of his mouth curled up uncontrollably. Everyone was smiling, as if they had gone mad, their eyes shining with light. "In any case, we must search! Gather intelligence!" "I'll go find the archives related to gold." "I'll go get Youyou!"

They ran out of the lounge. There was no time to rest, no time for grief. Hope had appeared before them; from now on, it was a race against death.

"Let's move, everyone," Chu Hengkong said, closing the Great Book. "Our next goal is to head to the swamp and find the medicine!"