"..."

"Senior Long, I will be going back now. Thank you for taking care of me during this time." Mei Xueyin took a few slow steps back, trying to create some distance—or at the very least, buy herself time to find help. If she could alert the others by claiming that Long Chen had discovered something that could turn a mortal into an immortal, it would draw attention to him. The cultivators inside the secret realm would swarm him like vultures. Many among them had already reached the sixth or even seventh stage of Foundation Building. If they ganged up on Long Chen, not even someone at the peak of the Foundation Building Realm would be able to withstand the assault. He would be forced to flee.

"Wait." Long Chen's voice was calm, but the moment he spoke, the air around her turned icy. It felt like the grim voice of a death reaper, beckoning her to place her neck on the chopping block.

He turned toward her, a bright smirk curling on his lips and an innocent gleam shining in his eyes.

"Miss Mei, don't you admire me? Why are you backing away from me like that?" He stepped forward, arms lazily stretching out to either side, as if expecting her to run into them for a warm embrace.

"S-Senior Long, who said I don't admire you?" Mei Xueyin stammered, trying to keep her composure. "But I think… I'm just slowing you down. I'm nothing but a burden. I shouldn't waste your time. I should go back."

"Okay," he replied casually.

Hope bloomed on her face like a flickering flame reignited. She thought she had been pardoned. She took a small breath of relief.

But his next words made her blood run cold.

"I'll magnanimously give you a chance—to be of some use to the future Dragon Lord."

"D-Dragon Lord?" Mei Xueyin's voice trembled. "What do you mean by that, Senior? A-Are you not human?"

She was trained to be a spy, not a sacrificial pawn. Her mission was to gather information, not throw her life away. This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to die here.

"I just need your blood essence."

"Oh… Just a drop of blood essence?" she asked, her voice light and cheerful, but her eyes betrayed her inner panic. "Although it will affect my cultivation, as long as I can help Senior Long—"

Her thoughts were screaming.

Should I scream for help? Maybe the echoes will bring this entire tomb down. Just looking at these ancient, worn-out interiors... it might actually work.

She began walking toward the coffin, every step exaggerated and slow—dramatic enough to stall for time.

"Wait, let me ask you something." Long Chen scratched his head, trying to phrase his question with care. "Are you… pure? I mean, have you ever had a relationship with a man?"

Mei Xueyin's face instantly turned bright red. She looked like a tomato.

Did he really just ask that?!

He was practically a stranger, and this was how he chose to speak to her?

But she could only answer through clenched teeth, "Yes."

Long Chen stood next to the coffin. Its lid had already been removed. He had done it before she could get a proper look—he didn't want her to know what her fate would be. He was emotional by nature and knew he wouldn't be able to watch her suffer. Still, some sacrifices had to be made.

Don't worry, Miss Mei. I'll revive you when I become strong enough, Long Chen promised silently as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Inside the coffin lay a man.

His hair was long, flowing down to his spine, and an ethereal sky blue. A golden headband circled his forehead, and between his brows—right above the bridge of his nose—was a faint paw-shaped symbol. His skin still retained its luster, as if he might wake up at any moment.

Long Chen brought his hand near the man's nose. No breath. Dead.

Even in death, the corpse radiated nobility. Not a single speck of dust marred his regal appearance. The Dragon Lord's aura was undeniable.

"Cut your wrist and let your blood essence flow into his mouth," Long Chen instructed from the edge of the glowing circle etched into the ruins.

Mei Xueyin knew there was no escape now. All she could do was obey and wait for a chance—any chance—to break free.

Slash—

Drip. Drip.

From a hidden pocket, she pulled a small ceremonial knife and made a deep incision in the palm of her hand.

The blood began to flow.

Normally, a Foundation Building cultivator's body would heal quickly. But her internal injuries had disrupted the flow of Qi. Her veins felt sluggish, and the blood pooled.

One drop formed, heavy and thick with essence. It slowly slid from her hand and fell onto the red lips of the corpse.

Suddenly, the ruins came alive.

Symbols flared to life, glowing from every surface around the coffin. Long Chen immediately felt it—a thousand unseen eyes watching him.

He turned around, but saw nothing. Just empty air.

Something had shifted inside this tomb.

At that moment, the corpse's eyes opened.

Pale cyan and emotionless, the eyes stared ahead. Mei Xueyin gasped but stifled her scream. The corpse—no, the man—lifted one hand and placed a single finger to his lips.

A smirk played at the corners of his mouth, almost reaching his eyes, as if he were enjoying a performance meant just for him.

Mei Xueyin understood instantly.

This man hadn't just awakened.

He had been watching them. From the moment they stepped into the tomb.

And more precisely… watching her.

Why? She didn't know. But she recognized the tactic.

The way he licked the blood from his lips—sensual, calculated. He was trying to unsettle her.

But she was no naive girl. She had used these same tricks herself. At moments like these, you look a person in the eye.

And his eyes were empty.

Devoid of feeling.

The wound in her hand began to close slowly.

The man closed his eyes again, returning to the expressionless state of death.

When Long Chen turned back toward her, his face twisted with irritation.

"Make a deeper wound. Hurry up!" he barked.

The casual act was gone. He had already stepped away from the glowing circle, leaving only the coffin and Mei Xueyin inside it.

She bit her lip and trembled.

"Ugh—"

She groaned in pain.

Even one drop of blood essence was a blow to her very foundation—her innate talent. Regenerating a single drop could take decades, sometimes centuries. And now, she had already lost four.

And Long Chen still wanted more.

Did he want her to die?

Her vision swam. Her knees weakened.

But she could only raise the knife again.

Someone save me, please!

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