Chapter 886 - 886 The Truth About the Blood Rakshasa (2)
886 The Truth About the Blood Rakshasa (2)
Shadow Six exclaimed, “He refined himself into a Blood Rakshasa just because of this?”
Master Sikong shook his head. “These are all small matters. Sang Qiuhan’s qualifications are not bad. In that generation, other than the Old Ancestor, almost no one can fight him to a draw. You have to know that others have the support of their families. They secretly hired a master and gave themselves special treatment. Sang Qiuhan relied on himself to cultivate. Gradually, he was valued by his masters. The masters taught him more and more martial arts, and those descendants of the aristocratic families were increasingly not his match. However, there was one person he could never defeat.”
“Ancestor Sikong?” Shadow Six asked.
Master Sikong nodded. “That’s right. As I said earlier, the Ancestor is a martial arts fanatic, and so is Sang Qiuhan. In terms of diligence, the Ancestor is inferior to Sang Qiuhan. However, sometimes, the gap in talent can’t be made up for by hard work. Sang Qiuhan has always refused to admit that he’s inferior. He thinks that he has lost in terms of resources. He’s not the legitimate son of the Sikong Family, so the masters will still have reservations about him when they teach him.”
“Then… did they hold back?” Shadow Six asked again.
“Of course they did,” Master Sikong said.
The corners of everyone’s mouths twitched. He still said that he didn’t lose in terms of resources?
Master Sikong said, “After all, he’s not from the Sikong Family. There are some things that can’t be easily spread. However, the Ancestor has always been generous. When Sang Qiuhan expressed to him that he had only lost because he didn’t have a good cultivation technique, the Ancestor taught him the Longevity Technique.”
The corners of everyone’s mouths twitched again. The old man was really… indescribable.
Master Sikong continued, “What’s worth mentioning is that at that time, the Ancestor was still young and had yet to understand the Longevity Technique. He had only cultivated the first level, so Sang Qiuhan definitely did not lose to him because of his cultivation technique. When Sang Qiuhan went back to cultivate the Longevity Technique and realized that he could not cultivate it, he suspected that the Ancestor had given him a fake cultivation technique. You have to know that only a few of the direct disciples of my Sikong Family could cultivate this cultivation technique, let alone an outsider. The Ancestor treated him kindly, but was mistaken by the other party for malicious intentions. After that, Sang Qiuhan suffered internal injuries and suspected that it was because of the fake cultivation technique that the Ancestor had given him. From then on, Sang Qiuhan hated the Ancestor.
“Sang Qiuhan practiced martial arts diligently. If the Ancestor practiced for two hours, he would practice for four to six hours. After a few years, Sang Qiuhan’s martial arts had indeed improved greatly, but he was still not the Ancestor’s match. Sang Qiuhan was so jealous that he infiltrated the Sikong family’s library and stole the top-secret cultivation technique.
“To be honest, I’ve never seen that cultivation technique either. The Sikong family has an ancestral teaching that all the descendants of the Sikong family can’t cultivate it. I once wondered what it was, but now, I seem to understand a little. It was that cultivation technique that turned Sang Qiuhan into a Blood Rakshasa!”
“The culprit is the Sikong family…” Qing Yan raised his eyebrows.
Master Sikong smiled bitterly. “Our Sikong family has guarded it for many years and has always followed our ancestral teachings. No one cultivated it. Sang Qiuhan has ill intentions himself. Is this also my Sikong family’s fault?”
Qing Yan muttered, “But your Sikong family always wants to forcefully marry the Saintess. You’re not good people!”
Master Sikong choked.
To be honest, the Sikong Clan had indeed married many saintesses in the past, but forcefully marrying… was only done by his grandfather, an old fool. His grandfather had indeed committed an unforgivable sin. Before he died, he repeatedly regretted it. He had let down the Saintess Lan Yi and the Lan family, but what was the use? The dead could not be revived. Everything could no longer go back.
“We’ll discuss the old score later,” Yan Jiuchao said indifferently. “Since the Blood Rakshasa cultivates the Sikong family’s cultivation technique, can the Sikong family deal with it?”
“No.” Master Sikong shook his head regretfully. Perhaps it was precisely because the Blood Rakshasa was too powerful and could not be suppressed that their ancestors did not allow their descendants to cultivate it. “The Longevity Technique can restrain it for a while, but… once the Sang family’s ancestor becomes the Rakshasa King, I’m afraid even the Longevity Technique will be useless.”
Yan Jiuchao tapped his slender fingers on the table. “All things complement and counter each other. The Blood Rakshasa must have its weakness.”
Qing Yan had an idea. “Don’t we have a little Rakshasa here? Wouldn’t we be able to find the Blood Rakshasa’s weakness if we try with it?”
Shadow Six said, “How can we try?”
Fifteen minutes later, Qing Yan came over with a large pile of sharp and cold torture tools. There were also a few large bottles of poison above the torture tools.
Shadow Six picked up an iron hook and a sharp dagger. He couldn’t bear it and said, “Isn’t it too much to torture a child with these things?”
Qing Yan did not say anything. He looked at Shadow Thirteen. Shadow Thirteen said, “It’s not a child, it’s an evil thing. Evil things are inhumane.”
Little Rakshasa swung alone for a while, not daring to let Yan Jiuchao discover him. Before Yan Jiuchao returned to the courtyard, he flashed back to his room and tied himself up with a black iron chain.
The two unconscious Asura Kings woke up with a whoosh. Their first reaction was to look at Little Rakshasa. Seeing that it was still there, they heaved a long sigh of relief. Seeing that the sky was dark, it was time for it to eat. They took out a bottle, poured a few blood pills, and threw them on the ground before striding out.
It was time for their meal.
Little Rakshasa jumped off the stool with the black iron chain tied around him. He opened his mouth to eat the blood pills on the ground. Suddenly, laughter came from the courtyard next door. Little Rakshasa was stunned for a moment before he broke free from the black iron chain and flashed out.
The little black eggs played for the entire afternoon and were so hungry that their stomachs growled.
Yu Wan asked the kitchen to prepare food. It was their favorite Fuyuanzi. Although it was not as authentic as Nanzhao, it was exquisitely made and the little black eggs liked it very much.
“I want second bowl!” Xiaobao said.
“I want three bowls!” Er’bao said.
I want four bowls! Dabao said in his heart.
“It’s two bowls.” Yu Wan corrected Xiaobao in anger and amusement. She glanced at the little fellows. “You still have dinner later. Don’t eat too much.” With that, she scooped a small bowl each for the three little black eggs and placed a small wooden spoon inside. She said softly, “It’s just out of the pot. Be careful of the heat.”
The stool was a little high, and the three little black eggs only managed to climb up after a while. Then, the three of them sat down in a row, grabbed the small wooden spoon, and stirred it while blowing.
Little Rakshasa leaned against the door and stuck his little head out. He widened his bloodshot eyes and looked at the bowl in the hands of the three little black eggs without blinking.
Xiaobao was the most impatient. He scooped a small spoonful and impatiently brought it to his mouth. He blew on it twice and stuffed it into his mouth.
It was so hot!
Hoo~ Hoo~
Little Rakshasa opened his mouth.
Er’bao also scooped a spoonful. “Mom, blow.”
Yu Wan blew on it dotingly and patted his head. “It’s fine. It’s not hot anymore.”
“Okay!” Er’bao nodded and fed him a spoonful of delicious Fuyuanzi. It was so delicious that he narrowed his eyes.
This bowl of Fuyuanzi was only a snack for the three little black eggs. The three of them quickly finished it. Yu Wan was packing the herbs to dry in the backyard. They jumped down and slipped away to look for their mother.
There was no one in the room. Little Rakshasa flashed in and landed steadily on the chair.
It paused and seemed to have thought of something. It jumped down again and imitated the little black eggs as it climbed up clumsily.
It sat down and picked up a small wooden spoon that the little black eggs had eaten. It scooped it from the empty bowl and brought it to its mouth. Hu hu ~
It scooped another spoonful and sent it to the side. After waiting for a while, as if someone was blowing for it, it nodded and fed the empty spoon to its mouth. It tilted its head and pretended to eat.