Chapter 004: As Long As She Kills Him, She Will Be Free

"I—I’ll go gather some firewood," Jin’er said, swallowing nervously as she saw the man glaring at her with a fierce expression, stepping inside slowly. Keeping her head down, she tried to edge past him and make her way out the door.

But just as she passed by his side, the man suddenly reached out and seized her sleeve. With a sharp tug, he flung her away, and the book hidden in her sleeve pocket tumbled out, landing with a loud slap on the ground.

Jin’er froze where she stood, her heart leaping into her throat. Damn it, he found out! Why did he come back so early today?

Before she could think further, she felt a sudden gust of wind, and in the next instant, a powerful slap struck her right cheek, so forceful it sent her staggering back two steps before she crashed heavily onto the floor.

Instantly, every old and new wound on her battered body flared with pain, so intense she could hardly tell where she’d just been struck.

"You wretched girl! How dare you touch my things?" The man glanced at the book he’d just picked up from the floor, then turned his gaze toward Jin’er, who sat collapsed on the ground, her face pale as death. His eyes glinted dangerously as he spoke.

Gritting her teeth, Jin’er turned her face away, refusing to look at him, her features hardening with stubbornness and cold defiance.

The man narrowed his eyes at her, but after a moment he let out a mocking laugh. He sauntered over and crouched down in front of her. "Were you hoping to find the antidote recipe in here?" he sneered, tapping Jin’er’s face with the book, his eyes brimming with disdain and ridicule.

Jin’er’s small hands balled into fists, her jaw clenched tight. His proximity filled her with revulsion.

"Let me tell you honestly—the antidote you take every day, its recipe is right here," he said, pointing at the notebook tucked in his chest, his face full of self-satisfaction. "As for the final cure? Heh, I haven’t finished creating it yet."

At his words, Jin’er’s heart clenched, and she whipped her head around to stare at him in shock. What did he say? He hasn’t even finished making it?

"Don’t worry," he went on, "in my lifetime, I’ll definitely concoct the true antidote. Don’t doubt me. After all, I’m one of the most outstanding disciples under the Poison Saint himself, and one day, I’ll surpass that old man!" As he spoke, his eyes narrowed and his mouth twisted into an ambitious, wicked grin, his face contorting into something monstrous in Jin’er’s gaze.

Seeing Jin’er’s face fall into hopeless despair, the man suddenly burst into laughter, stood up, and strode out, his mood inexplicably brightened. He had no idea that Jin’er, left behind, only despaired for a moment before she braced herself again.

So there’s no ultimate cure yet? That’s all right. As long as she had the antidote to suppress the poison, she could bide her time seeking the final remedy. No matter what, she would never let him outlive her!

He had inadvertently reminded her: the recipe for the daily antidote was in that notebook he always carried. If she killed him, wouldn’t she be free? But she was still just a child; she was no match for him in a fair fight, and he was too wary for her to use underhanded means. She had no chance at all.

It seemed she would need to take her time and wait for his vigilance to slip. Maybe, if enough time passed, he would eventually lower his guard.

The thought of this endless, painful existence and her faint hope filled Jin’er with a deep, icy sorrow. If she had known things would turn out so miserably, she would have rather starved to death on the streets than end up like this.

Lost in thought, Jin’er’s gaze drifted, and a suppressed memory surged up from the depths of her mind like a tide...