Beyond the Timescape

Chapter 25: The Poison Path: Corpse Destroying Powder

Master Bai’s words echoed in Xu Qing’s ears, making his eyes widen.

His breathing hitched. A dull roar rushed through his mind. To enter the tent and audit the classes—this was a vital lifeline he had desperately sought. Suppressing his surging excitement, he took a deep breath and bowed deeply toward the heavy canvas flaps.

“Thank you, Master!”

He spoke the four words with absolute solemnity. He held the bow for a long moment before straightening up and turning away.

He didn’t see Master Bai, but as he walked off, he could hear the old man sharply reprimanding his two disciples inside. Xu Qing ignored it; his blood was pumping too fast.

Back at the courtyard, he immediately shared the news with Captain Lei. The old scavenger’s weathered face broke into a wide, genuine smile. Seeing the rare spark of joy in the boy’s cold eyes stirred something deep within the veteran’s chest.

Captain Lei knew the boy hadn’t explicitly stated why he was venturing into the restricted zone so frequently, but the old man wasn’t a fool. Xu Qing was hunting for the Heaven’s Mandate Flower—the only thing that could extend Lei’s life.

In this frozen, blood-soaked world, how could he not cherish a kid so fiercely loyal, a kid who had already saved his life? Yet, watching Xu Qing return battered and exhausted day after day gnawed at the old man’s conscience.

Seeing Xu Qing happy made Captain Lei happy. That evening, the captain personally cooked a hearty, meat-heavy stew. Over dinner, he relentlessly drilled the boy on proper etiquette: respect the teacher, revere the knowledge, and always show absolute deference to Master Bai. Xu Qing listened intently, committing every word to memory.

Even after retreating to his room, Xu Qing’s pulse raced. The anticipation of tomorrow’s lesson kept him tossing and turning.

In the quiet dark, he remembered his days in the slums, recalling the first time he and the other street rats had paid their respects to a ragged schoolteacher.

He sat up, grabbed his leather pouch, and sorted through his meager belongings. He pulled out a newer pouch and dumped the majority of his spirit coins into it, along with a large handful of his White Pills.

To Xu Qing, knowledge was survival. It was priceless. Trading his entire life savings for it was a bargain. But he had to factor in Captain Lei’s failing health, so he forced himself to hold half of his wealth back.

Satisfied, he exhaled a long breath, closed his eyes, and began his breathing exercises, cultivating in the dark until dawn.

The night felt agonizingly long.

The moment the first rays of the sun pierced the toxic smog, Xu Qing did something rare: he changed into a clean set of clothes and scrubbed his hands raw.

Just as he stepped out of his room, Captain Lei—who hadn’t woken up this early in weeks—called out to him.

The old man gave him another thorough lecture on manners. Xu Qing didn’t show a hint of impatience, nodding and absorbing every detail. Finally, Captain Lei reached out, straightened the collar of Xu Qing’s tunic, and offered him a bulging leather pouch.

“You can’t walk into a master’s tent empty-handed,” Lei rasped.

“I have my own,” Xu Qing replied softly.

Captain Lei glared at him. But seeing the stubborn glint in the boy’s wolf-like eyes, he sighed, pocketed the pouch, and went back into his room. He emerged a moment later with a sealed flask of wine.

“I know Master Bai. The old man likes his drink. Take this.”

This time, Xu Qing didn’t refuse. He accepted the heavy flask, turned, and headed for the gate. After a few steps, he paused, glanced back at the weary captain standing in the courtyard, and gave a small wave. Then, he broke into a jog, heading straight for Master Bai’s tent.

Watching the boy’s retreating back, Captain Lei chuckled. “Kid wasn’t even this happy when we split the Seven-Leaf Grass.”

A mix of tension and anticipation coiled in Xu Qing’s gut as he arrived at the spot outside the tent where he had stood like a statue for over a month. He took a steadying breath and rapped his knuckles against the wooden frame of the door.

“Come in.”

At Master Bai’s voice, Xu Qing looked down, gave his lapels one last hard tug to ensure they were perfectly straight, and pushed the door open.

Inside, bathed in the warm light, sat Master Bai, flanked by his two disciples and the usual guards.

As Xu Qing looked at them, they stared back.

Master Bai’s face was an unreadable mask of calm. The disciples, however, wore their emotions plainly. The boy, Chen Feiyuan, scowled with blatant defiance. The girl, Ting Yu, watched him with wide, curious eyes.

Xu Qing ignored the disciples. He bowed deeply to Master Bai, then retrieved his prepared leather pouch and the wine flask. Mimicking the formal gestures he’d seen in the slums, he offered them forward with both hands, keeping his head bowed.

Because his eyes were fixed on the floor, Xu Qing missed the brief flash of warmth that softened Master Bai’s gaze.

The master ignored the pouch of coins and pills, reaching only for the wine. He popped the cork and took a slow sip right in front of Xu Qing—a silent acceptance of the boy’s tribute.

“Let the lesson begin,” Master Bai said, setting the flask down.

As usual, the class started with a review. Ting Yu and Chen Feiyuan, clearly treating Xu Qing as a rival, fired off their answers with rapid precision, having obviously crammed the night before. Every time they answered, they shot challenging glares at Xu Qing.

Xu Qing didn’t even glance their way. His eyes remained locked on Master Bai. When his turn came, he answered the master’s probing questions with comprehensive, flawless logic. Master Bai gave a satisfied nod and transitioned into the day’s lecture.

Xu Qing absorbed the information like a starving beast. He cherished this warmth, this knowledge, and didn’t let his focus waver for a single second.

His intense concentration forced Chen Feiyuan and Ting Yu to match his pace, bringing a hidden smile to Master Bai’s lips.

More than ten days slipped by. Xu Qing settled into the rhythm of the indoor classes. His hyper-vigilance never faded, and the wealth of botanical knowledge he accumulated grew exponentially.

Chen Feiyuan, however, reverted to his lazy habits within days. Only Ting Yu maintained her fierce rivalry, studying just as hard as Xu Qing.

After class, the two disciples occasionally tried to strike up conversations. Ting Yu would ask naive questions about the brutal reality of the Scavenger Camp. Xu Qing kept his answers short, cold, and transactional.

Chen Feiyuan remained hostile and rarely spoke to him at all.

Xu Qing couldn’t care less. He had no interest in making friends. The moment class ended, he vanished, plunging straight into the restricted zone. Now, he had a new objective alongside his daily survival: field research.

Before, the twisted flora of the restricted zone had just been a blur of deadly background noise. Now, the chaotic undergrowth resolved into distinct, identifiable species.

Every time he recognized a plant from Master Bai’s lectures, his practical understanding deepened.

He quickly realized a grim truth: the restricted zone was overwhelmingly dominated by Yin-aligned, toxic flora. Positive-Yang medicinal herbs were incredibly rare.

Therefore, his botanical research naturally pivoted toward the lethal arts. He became a student of poison.

As he harvested these toxic weeds, he constructed a crude, hidden shack in a small canyon to serve as his laboratory.

Relying on his shadow’s ability to absorb Mutagen and his purple crystal’s regenerative healing, Xu Qing conducted reckless, highly dangerous experiments. He crushed, boiled, and mixed the lethal flora.

Eventually, his brutal trial-and-error yielded a terrifying new concoction.

He brewed it from eight distinct toxic plants, binding them together with the venom of a mutated snake.

The resulting liquid was violently corrosive. In a field test, a single drop melted a mutated beast’s corpse into a puddle of foul, bloody sludge in just five breaths.

Curiously, the reaction was much slower on living tissue, though Xu Qing hadn’t yet figured out why.

Regardless, he was deeply satisfied with his first original creation. He dehydrated the liquid into a fine, lethal dust and named it Corpse Destroying Powder.

As for the rare positive-Yang herbs he managed to scavenge, he used the principles of Yin-Yang polarity to brew crude, semi-finished medicinal liquids.

By mixing a small amount of this liquid with Seven-Leaf Grass, he created a paste that slightly suppressed Mutagen. He even brought a sample to Master Bai, asking if it could supplement the old man’s prescription to better treat Captain Lei.

Master Bai’s answer was blunt: Aside from the Heaven’s Mandate Flower, nothing will work. And even my prescription will soon lose its efficacy.

The master’s words proved true. Even with strict adherence to his medication, Captain Lei’s vitality visibly withered day by day. Xu Qing watched the old man deteriorate, a heavy silence settling in his heart.

Then came the day when, over dinner, Captain Lei set down his bowl. He hesitated, the weariness in his bones apparent, before finally speaking.

He admitted he was no longer fit to survive in the Scavenger Camp. He planned to buy residency in a nearby city and retire.

“Kid,” Captain Lei rasped, his voice gentle. “I know your path won’t end in this filthy little camp. You’re going to go far. So… I won’t ask you to come rot in a retirement city with me.”

Xu Qing froze, his chopsticks hovering over his bowl.

He lowered his head. The silence stretched for a long, suffocating time.

“Will you come back?” Xu Qing asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“Of course. I’ll visit occasionally,” Captain Lei smiled. For the first time, the old man reached out and placed a calloused hand on Xu Qing’s head. His heart ached; he couldn’t bear the thought of this boy throwing his life away in the restricted zone just to find a cure for a dying old man.

Xu Qing’s feral instincts screamed at him to dodge the touch. His muscles twitched, but he forced himself to stay perfectly still. He let the captain’s hand rest on his hair.

As he gently ruffled the boy’s hair, Captain Lei chuckled. “Besides, you can come visit me anytime.”

Xu Qing gave a single, heavy nod.

That night, Xu Qing couldn’t focus on his cultivation. His eyes kept snapping open, his gaze drifting toward Captain Lei’s room.

It took several days for Xu Qing to bury that suffocating emotion deep within his chest. He locked it away. From then on, aside from attending Master Bai’s lectures, he spent every waking hour plunging deeper into the restricted zone, tearing through the lethal wilderness in a desperate, bloody hunt for the Heaven’s Mandate Flower.

But just as Master Bai had warned—such a miracle could only be stumbled upon by fate, never found by force.