Chapter 89: Niannian, Time to Take Your Medicine

Before long, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed within the hall.

“Young Master, the physician is here.”

The servant bowed respectfully, but when he looked up, he gasped in shock.

“Ah! Young Master, your wound on your back has reopened! Please let the physician tend to you?”

“No need,” Yin Buqi shook his head indifferently.

“Take care of her first.”

The physician protested, “Young Master, the blood is seeping through—”

“I said, look at her first!”

Yin Buqi’s sudden outburst was deep and menacing, filled with dangerous fury.

The physician, terrified, dropped to his knees with a thud before scrambling to examine Jiang Niannian’s pulse.

This was Qingqiu.

Bloodlines carried absolute authority.

Everyone would submit to the noble Nine-Tailed Fox bloodline—it was something engraved in their very bones.

The physician withdrew his hand, his brows furrowed in concern.

Yin Buqi’s eyes were icy and anxious.

“How is she?”

“It’s not too serious. Her old injuries haven’t fully healed, and she’s caught a chill, which caused her to lose consciousness. However…”

Yin Buqi grew impatient.

He despised people who beat around the bush.

“However, what?”

The physician hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“I feel like something about her pulse is… off. But I can’t quite pinpoint it. For now, I’ll prescribe some medicine to nurse her back to health, and I’ll study this further once I return.”

The physician instructed someone to prepare the medicine and tended to the wound on Yin Buqi’s back before bowing and leaving.

Yin Buqi sat by the bed, gently holding Jiang Niannian’s hand.

His gaze was damp with sorrow.

He tenderly caressed her face, pressing his forehead against hers, his sharp nose grazing softly against her skin.

His beautiful yet despondent face was etched with tears under the flickering light.

In a low, choked voice, he murmured, “I only have you… Niannian… I only have you…”

So please, you must, you must live on.

The servant soon returned with the prepared medicine, placing it in Yin Buqi’s hands.

Yin Buqi didn’t care about the scalding heat; he took a sip himself.

The smell was bitter, and the taste even worse—Niannian would definitely hate it.

After living together for so many years, Yin Buqi was all too familiar with Jiang Niannian’s habits.

She hated taking medicine because she was afraid of the bitterness.

She feared pain but rarely complained in front of him, not wanting him to worry.

Yin Buqi sighed softly and ordered, “Go fetch some honey water.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

Yin Buqi carefully scooped a spoonful of the medicine, blew on it gently, and brought it to Jiang Niannian’s lips.

He coaxed softly, “Niannian, be good… drink your medicine.”

She took one sip, but even in her unconscious state, her brows knitted tightly.

She turned her head away, her lips pressed firmly shut, refusing to drink more.

“Bitter… so bitter…”

Jiang Niannian whimpered faintly and pushed away the bowl of medicine with weak movements.

The bowl wobbled in Yin Buqi’s hand, spilling medicine onto the luxurious carpet.

He stared at the remaining medicine in the bowl before suddenly drinking it all himself.

Placing the bowl aside, he turned back to Jiang Niannian, pried her mouth open, and kissed her deeply, forcing the bitter medicine down her throat.

Jiang Niannian tasted the bitterness on her tongue and shook her head in protest.

“Mmm… no…”

But with her mouth open, the medicine slid easily down her throat.

Even after the medicine was gone, Yin Buqi didn’t pull away.

He lingered, savoring the kiss, his lips gently entwining with hers.

The medicine was bitter, but she was sweet.

Yin Buqi finally bit her tongue lightly before pulling back reluctantly.

He took the honey water and carefully fed it to her.

“Bitter…”

“It’s not bitter anymore… Niannian, it’s sweet. Drink it, it’s good.”

His head was bowed low, his soft features tinged with fear and loss as he patiently coaxed her.

Jiang Niannian felt terrible, but obediently opened her mouth.

“Ah…”

After some time, a trembling, aged voice came from behind him.

“Young Master, please go to the Old Palace Master immediately.”

The voice belonged to Li Gong, a trusted confidant who had served the Old Palace Master for many years.

He carried immense authority.

“I understand,” Yin Buqi said hoarsely, his voice cold.

Then he called out, “Xiao Qi.”

A shadow emerged—a woman.

Her entire presence exuded a chilling aura of bloodlust, clearly someone forged in the fires of countless battles.

She was one of the death guards sworn to protect the Qingqiu bloodline.

They had no names, only codenames.

“Young Master, your orders?”

“Conceal your killing intent. Stay by Niannian’s side and protect her as a maidservant.”

“Understood.”

…

Yin Buqi was escorted to a lakeside.

The lake’s smooth surface shimmered like silk under the faint light, and a bridge made of rare treasures stretched toward the lake’s center.

The bridge was filled with formations—each step could either lead to safety or plunge one into an endless abyss.

Li Gong bowed deeply.

“I cannot accompany you further, Young Master. I will wait here.”

Following protocol, Yin Buqi summoned his spiritual energy, his lithe figure gliding swiftly across the bridge.

He invoked a water-repelling spell and dove into the lake.

Beneath the surface was an entire palace complex, shrouded within a massive barrier.

“Child… you’ve come…” A frail, raspy voice echoed.

The barrier opened just wide enough for Yin Buqi to pass through.

Without hesitation, he stepped inside.

The palace was vast yet eerily empty.

In the center lay a stone platform resembling a coffin.

An elderly man, frail and withered, lay atop it, barely clinging to life.

“Child… you’ve finally come…”

Yin Buqi showed no sign of familial warmth, only cold detachment.

“So, you’re my mother’s father, Hu Qianqiu?”

Hu Qianqiu nodded weakly, unfazed by Yin Buqi’s sharp tone.

“I’ve been holding on… waiting for you…”

Yin Buqi sneered.

“You weren’t waiting for me—you were waiting for the ancestral bloodline.”

Hu Qianqiu murmured, almost to himself, “A thousand years ago, it wasn’t humans who ruled the mortal realm… it was us, the Nine-Tailed Fox Clan… But we were too powerful… even Heaven grew wary of us… so it created the ‘Nether Evil Resentment Seed Curse.’”

Yin Buqi’s cold eyes turned wild with madness.

“Continue.”

“Those of us with the ancestral bloodline can achieve immortality… living as long as Heaven itself… But the curse ensures that its bearer will doom everyone they love… leaving them unable to live, yet unable to die… Our numbers dwindled, and we eventually vanished into seclusion here in Qingqiu…”

Through Hu Qianqiu’s long, weak account, Yin Buqi slowly uncovered the buried truth.

The reason humans feared the curse so deeply was because it only chose Nine-Tailed Foxes with ancestral bloodlines as its vessel.

And the birth of an ancestral bloodline signified the revival of the Nine-Tailed Fox Clan.

When that time came, the mortal world would descend into chaos, and the world would change hands.