’They want to "take care of me"!’

In the prison cell, Ye Wushuang withdrew his Divine Sense, his expression turning cold. ’I can’t believe it. Even after throwing me in prison, Chen Kun still isn’t done with me. He even sent these two to torture me. How vicious.’

Now aware of their scheme, Ye Wushuang steeled himself. He kept his eyes shut, but his Divine Sense was fixed on the area outside his cell. A moment later, two Prison Guards approached.

From the conversation he’d just overheard, Ye Wushuang knew one was named Wang Er and the other Zhang Ming. Both of them were at the Body Tempering Tenth Layer.

"Hey, look at this guy. He’s so quiet!"

The two arrived outside Ye Wushuang’s cell to see him sitting cross-legged inside, completely motionless. It was as if he had no idea where he was.

"How strange. Every other guy locked up in here has been a crying, screaming mess, begging for mercy. Why is Ye Wushuang so still?" Wang Er said, looking at Ye Wushuang from outside with a puzzled expression.

"Maybe he doesn’t grasp his situation yet?" Zhang Ming added, also surprised.

"There’s one way to find out," Wang Er joked. "Just remember to plug your ears in a bit. Once this guy realizes what’s in store for him, he’ll probably be screaming for his mommy and daddy."

The two opened the cell door and stepped inside. Zhang Ming called out tentatively, "Ye Wushuang!"

Ye Wushuang remained sitting cross-legged on the floor, ignoring them completely. He had withdrawn his Divine Sense and was now using it to inspect his own body.

"Dammit, playing dead for me, are you!"

Seeing Ye Wushuang not even make a peep, Zhang Ming felt he’d lost face. Towering over him, he aimed a kick at Ye Wushuang’s head.

SWISH!

At that very instant, however, Ye Wushuang’s eyes snapped open. A sharp light glinted within them, and a deadly, piercing aura rippled out, making the damp prison cell feel even colder.

WHOOSH!

Before his kick could even land, Zhang Ming reflexively yanked it back.

"Dammit, you scared the shit out of me!"

Zhang Ming’s expression soured. He lifted his foot again, preparing to follow through with the kick.

But Wang Er stopped him.

"What’s your hurry? As long as the kid’s not dead, we’re good. Wouldn’t it be better to give him a proper ’welcome’ with all the instruments of torture later?" Wang Er said with a cruel smile, signaling to Zhang Ming. "Take him to the torture chamber!"

"Kid, you just drew the short straw. I’m gonna make you wish you were dead!" Zhang Ming grinned, understanding the plan. He grabbed Ye Wushuang’s shoulder, about to haul him to his feet.

"I can walk on my own."

Ye Wushuang’s brow furrowed. With a jolt of his body, a powerful force surged through his shoulder and slammed into Zhang Ming’s hand, sending the guard stumbling back a dozen steps.

Only then did Ye Wushuang rise to his feet and properly size up the two men.

They were of similar height—fairly tall, but gaunt. Their eye sockets were tinged with red, their brows had a faint blueish hue, and their faces were pallid. It gave them a sickly, menacing look.

"Dammit, this is my turf! You dare to fight back? I’ll fucking kill you." Having been repeatedly bested by Ye Wushuang, Zhang Ming flew into a rage. Without a second thought, he threw a punch straight at him.

This time, Wang Er did not stop him.

Ye Wushuang watched Zhang Ming’s fist approach, his body perfectly still. He waited until it was just millimeters from his nose before he spoke with a cold smirk. "If you so much as lay a finger on me, neither of you will live."

SWISH!

His words struck Zhang Ming’s heart like daggers. His fist stopped abruptly, less than half a millimeter from the tip of Ye Wushuang’s nose.

"What did you just say, kid?"

Zhang Ming asked coldly. Wang Er also stepped forward, glaring at Ye Wushuang.

"You know exactly what I mean," Ye Wushuang said with a faint smile, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Know what? If you don’t start making sense, I’ll smash your head in right now. You’d better believe it!" Seeing Ye Wushuang being deliberately cryptic, Zhang Ming’s expression hardened. He circulated his True Qi, and the resulting energy fluctuations made the hair at Ye Wushuang’s temples stir.

Ye Wushuang’s expression remained calm, and he spoke like some kind of mystic. "If you harm a single hair on my head, I won’t save you. And within three years, you will both be dead."

"’Dead within three years?’ You think you’re a God who can predict the future?"

Zhang Ming sneered and was about to strike.

Unafraid, Ye Wushuang shrugged. "I don’t know if a God can predict the future, but I do know that as far as you’re concerned, I am the God who can save you."

"Then go be a God in hell!" A vicious light flashed in Zhang Ming’s eyes. Convinced Ye Wushuang was just messing with them, he drew back his fist and punched again.

Ye Wushuang still didn’t dodge. There wasn’t even a trace of fear on his face, which Wang Er found strange.

"Stop!"

After a moment’s thought, Wang Er reached out, grabbed his arm, and stopped Zhang Ming.

"Wang Er, this kid’s bluffing! Are you telling me you can just stand by and not cripple him?" Zhang Ming roared.

"Hold on. There’s more to what he’s saying. Let him finish." Wang Er stepped in front of Ye Wushuang. "I’m giving you one chance. Explain yourself."

"To put it bluntly, you’re both sick," Ye Wushuang said, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Dammit, you’re the one who’s sick! This kid’s just mocking us." Zhang Ming’s lip twitched as he flew into a complete rage. ’How dare he call us sick? This is outrageous.’

This time, even Wang Er’s expression turned ugly.

"Still don’t believe me?" Ye Wushuang sneered. "Let me ask you something. Do you often feel dizzy? When you practice your Cultivation, do you feel a stabbing pain in your meridians, as if an Ice Saber is carving you up from the inside? And have you found it nearly impossible to advance your Cultivation?"

At his words, the two guards’ expressions shifted dramatically. They stared at Ye Wushuang in complete shock. "How did you know?"

"Like I said, I’m the God who can save you. Of course I know." Seeing their reactions, Ye Wushuang was now certain. ’Their red-rimmed eyes, the blueish tint to their brows, their pale faces, and the coldness of their True Qi... it’s clearly a Yin-Cold malady.’

This type of illness was terrifying. It would gradually break down a Cultivator’s body, eventually leading to death. Ye Wushuang himself had suffered from it as a child; his father, Ye Xuan, had only managed to cure him by spending a fortune on a Supreme Yang Elixir.

Now that Ye Wushuang had exposed their secret, a flicker of hope appeared in their hearts. They asked urgently, "Do you have a way to cure us?"

"Of course," Ye Wushuang said, scratching his ear. "But then I remembered the brutal torture I’m about to face, and the shock of it made me forget." He sounded languid, not showing the slightest hint of fear.

"You..." Zhang Ming’s face flushed with anger and anxiety. "Just tell us! I won’t give you any trouble, and I definitely won’t use any torture!"

"Are you certain you can cure us?" Wang Er asked after a moment of thought.

"Of course. A Fourth-Grade Yuan Yang Pill will do the trick." Ye Wushuang produced a crimson elixir. In the dim light of the cell, it glowed like a Little Sun.

"A Fourth-Grade Elixir!"

Wang Er’s eyes lit up, and he suddenly lunged, trying to grab the elixir from Ye Wushuang’s hand.

"You can’t take what I’m not willing to give."

Ye Wushuang had anticipated this. With a cold smirk, he sidestepped, and Wang Er’s hand closed on empty air.

"Give it to us!"

With menacing expressions, Wang Er and Zhang Ming stared at the Primordial Yang Pill in Ye Wushuang’s hand, prepared to kill him and take the elixir.

CRACK!

But in that instant, Ye Wushuang crushed the Primordial Yang Pill.

"No!"

The two of them froze, letting out a simultaneous cry of despair as they stared at the dissipating essence of the Primordial Yang Pill.

"Why!" the two roared.

"No reason," Ye Wushuang shrugged. "I just wanted to show you that killing me to take the elixir is impossible. If I don’t want to give it to you, you’ll never get it by force."

"Then what do you want from us to give us the elixir?!" The two were so furious they could have coughed up blood. ’Who the hell messes with people like this?!’

"What will it take? Let me think."

Ye Wushuang sat on a dilapidated table and pretended to think.

"Oof, my shoulders are sore... my legs are sore, too," Ye Wushuang said lazily, rolling his neck. "If only someone could give me a little massage, maybe that would help me remember what it’ll take."

PFFT!

At that, Wang Er and Zhang Ming nearly choked. A massage would help him remember? He was blatantly telling them to be his personal masseurs.

The two were livid. But the thought of the excruciating pain that wracked their bodies at regular intervals quickly extinguished their anger.

"Lord Ye, we were blind and failed to recognize your greatness! We’re sorry, we have offended you!"

After gritting their teeth for a long moment, the two men walked over to Ye Wushuang and began to cautiously serve this new "master" of theirs.