I blinked, startled by his bluntness. "Self-centered?" I echoed.
His lips curved into a sardonic smile, though there was a glimmer of something darker in his gaze. "The reason they reached level eight is because the quality of their cores is exceptional. Once the world knew that, there would be a flood of people eager to get their hands on their cores. The royal courts would demand it, as would countless others. If they shared their core, they'd open themselves up to countless competitors—men and women who would go to any lengths to take what they had. Those at level eight wouldn't survive long. The power, the influence, would become a target, not a blessing."
I fell silent, processing his words. Despite his reputation as a manipulator, there was a strange logic to his explanation. But a part of me still suspected he was spinning this tale to make me look stupid for his own amusement.
"So it's not self-centeredness," I said after a moment. "It's self-preservation."
His gaze flicked to me, a spark of approval flickering in his eyes before it disappeared, replaced once more by that unreadable mask. "That is also acceptable," he said with a shrug, as though it made no difference to him either way.
"But if that's true," I said, still lost in my thoughts, "those level-eight grandmasters must have passed their cores to their disciples. How come no one has reached the eighth level in the last half-century?"
Ruan Yanjun, reclining with infuriating ease against the low table, tilted his head slightly, as if amused by the question. "Because not everyone is fit to handle a high-quality core," he replied smoothly. "If the cultivator lacks worthiness or discipline, even the finest core will degrade over time. The core isn't just a gift—it's a responsibility. Its excellence depends on the one who wields it."
He paused, his gaze flicking to me with an almost lazy interest. Then, his lips curved into a faint smirk. "As for you…"
I frowned. "Am I not worthy?"
"That," he said, his smirk deepening, "is entirely up to you."
His answer felt like a challenge, but I resisted rising to it. Instead, I sighed and shifted my posture, leaning forward slightly. "Lord Ruan," I said carefully, "I need to know. For what reason did you implant another core inside me? If your answer satisfies me, I might consider nurturing them both."
For a moment, he was silent. The crackle of the fire between us filled the space, its light dancing on his sharp, almost cruel features. Finally, he sighed, though whether it was in reluctance or annoyance, I couldn't tell.
"Alright, I'll tell you," he said. "First reason… because I wanted you to stand above everyone else."
The simplicity of the answer startled me. I opened my mouth to question him further, but he continued before I could interrupt.
"There is a skill," he said, his voice taking on a measured, deliberate tone, "that only a dual-core cultivator can master. Once you achieve it, you'll have the power to take on even those far above your level. More importantly, you'll become a particular danger to dark-core cultivators like me."
I stiffened. "Then why would you want me to learn a skill that could harm you?"
His smirk returned, sharper this time, as if he found my confusion amusing. "Because I want a worthy rival," he said. "Do you know how dull it is to exist at the top, unchallenged? For decades, I've had no equal. No one capable of pushing me to my limits. So, if such a rival doesn't exist…" He shrugged. "I might as well create one."
His words sent a chill down my spine. "You… turned me into this abomination just to satisfy your desire for entertainment?"
"Abomination?" He laughed, the sound low and rich. "You've been listening to too many fools who failed to sustain their dual cores. They're the ones who spread those ridiculous tales, bitter at their own inadequacies. Dual cores are not an abomination, A-Fan. They're a rarity. A gift. One that most cultivators couldn't even dream of possessing."
"It doesn't feel like a gift," I muttered bitterly. "No man can balance light and dark, good and evil, at the same time."
"Still clinging to that notion, are you?" His gaze turned sharp, piercing. "How many times must I tell you? Darkness isn't inherently evil, just as light isn't inherently good. Haven't you already seen it for yourself? Your own master, Han Bao, and Ma Huan—beacons of light cultivation, yet their deeds were anything but righteous."
I clenched my fists, his words striking too close to truths I didn't want to confront.
"A-Fan," he said, his tone softening slightly, though the intensity in his gaze remained. "You'll come to understand the realities of this world as we travel together."
I inhaled deeply, steeling myself. "What's the second reason?"
Ruan Yanjun smirked, that infuriating curve of his lips radiating smugness. "To prove my theory," he said casually, as though his words weren't laced with something sinister.
I frowned, suspicion prickling at my senses. "Would Lord Ruan care to enlighten me?" I asked, my tone as calm as I could muster, though my fists clenched at my sides.
He chuckled, a sound that seemed to mock my restraint. "As you are aware," he began, his voice smooth like silk hiding a dagger, "dark cores are inherently more resistant to poisons. It is one of their greatest advantages over light cores. So, I theorized that the same should hold true against what you call a 'destructive drug.'" He paused, letting the weight of his words settle in the air before flashing a wolfish smile. "It will be… interesting to find out the result."
I stared at him, my breath hitching. "In other words," I said slowly, forcing the words out despite the growing anger in my chest, "you're experimenting on me?"
He laughed then, a rich, unrepentant sound that sent my blood boiling. "Experimenting?" he repeated, as if the term was a jest. "You're dying anyway. Would you rather I sit idly by and wait for the inevitable? At least this way, you have a chance at survival—however slim." His tone was maddeningly nonchalant, as though my suffering was just another problem to be solved, or worse, a curiosity to indulge.
I swallowed hard, trying to tamp down the rising urge to lash out. My nails dug into my palms, grounding me as I struggled to keep my composure. The audacity of this man, treating my life like some disposable tool for his amusement! "So, I'm just another experiment to you," I bit out, my voice low and trembling with restrained fury.
He tilted his head, studying me like a predator assessing prey. "An experiment, yes," he admitted without shame. "But one with purpose. If my theory proves correct, you might actually live long enough to reach a level of power others can only dream of." His gaze lingered on me, a flicker of something unreadable—perhaps amusement, or perhaps genuine curiosity—dancing in his eyes. "Is that not worth a little suffering?"
I clenched my teeth, my vision clouded by a mix of frustration and anger, but I tried to keep myself calm. "Does Lord Ruan expect me to feel grateful for this… this violation of my will?"
"Grateful?" He raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Not at all. Gratitude is unnecessary. Survival, on the other hand… now that is worth everything." He leaned in slightly, his tone lowering as if to drive his point deeper into me. "And let us not pretend you wouldn't take any chance, no matter how small, to stay alive. Even if it comes from me."
My hands balled into fists, the temptation to punch his smug face nearly overwhelming. "You're insufferable," I muttered under my breath, though I wasn't sure if he heard or simply ignored me. I imagined, for a fleeting moment, what it would feel like to knock that smirk off his face—how satisfying it would be to see him caught off guard, even for a second.
But of course, Ruan Yanjun was never caught off guard. He saw everything, anticipated everything. And worse, he thrived on my frustration, feeding on my helplessness like a flame stoked by wind.
"Resent me all you like," he said, his voice infuriatingly calm. "It won't change the fact that without me, you wouldn't even have a glimmer of hope. Call it an experiment, if that helps you sleep at night. But remember this—experiments often lead to breakthroughs." He straightened, his smirk fading into something far colder. "And breakthroughs… well, they come with sacrifices."
I glared at him, my heart pounding in my chest, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. "You're despicable," I spat, my voice barely above a whisper.
His lips twitched, though whether it was amusement or indifference, I couldn't tell. "Perhaps," he said. "But despicable or not, I'm the only one willing to do what's necessary to save you. So tell me, A-Fan, which would you rather have—a despicable ally or an early grave?"
I had no answer. Not one I could say aloud, anyway. All I could do was sit there, fists clenched, and swallow the bitter truth that, despite my hatred for him, I was bound to him now, body and soul.
And he knew it.
That smirk of his told me everything I needed to know. Ruan Yanjun had already won this battle.
"When do we leave?" I asked to change the subject.
"Tomorrow."
I nodded. I had no objections. I had already given my word to follow him, no matter how much I detested it. Besides, with Jinjing gone, I had no home to return to. This place, for all its grandeur, would never be home either. From now on, the road would be my home—a path of wandering, observing, and learning.
"The journey to Silang will take months," he continued, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. "We'll make several stops along the way. The first will be in the province of Yuheng in Wun Empire. I've received an invitation to the wedding of the duke's son and the emperor's younger daughter. Yuheng is a beautiful province. Majestic mountains, rivers like threads of silver—you might find it to your liking."
I said nothing. The idea of sightseeing felt hollow in the shadow of Jinjing's loss, but I saw no point in voicing my disinterest.
"There's a forest near Yuheng," he went on, undeterred by my silence. "It's said to be guarded by fairies. We'll search for two particular plants there—the Dual Bloom and White Sage. Both will be essential for your condition. One restores the balance of positive and negative energies, the other repairs internal damage."
I blinked, the names tugging at the edges of my memory. "I've read about them," I said slowly. "But they're supposed to be myths."
He chuckled softly. "If they were myths, they wouldn't be in books. You underestimate the threads of truth hidden in legends."
"You've been reading about them?"
"While you were busy sulking, I was combing through the imperial library," he said, his voice tinged with mild reproach.
I lowered my head, conflicted. His words carried no affection, yet they hinted at a level of care I hadn't expected. "I… didn't know," I said softly.
"I told you, A-Fan," he said, his tone firm. "Stick with me, and you'll be fine. No one in this world is more invested in finding a cure for you than I am."
The weight of his statement pressed against me. I wanted to believe there was more to his effort than self-interest, but I couldn't ignore the reality of his ambitions. Even so, I couldn't entirely dismiss the gratitude stirring in my chest.
This was Ruan Yanjun, a man whose time and effort were more valuable than gold. And yet, he'd poured both into me.
I should have felt honored.
But all I felt was trapped. A prisoner bound by his will, a pawn in his intricate game, helpless under the weight of his control.
END OF BOOK 1