Unorthodox methods, cultivating immortality relies on rich women

The black hair on the ground turned into black mist, enveloping the entire altar, and the dried bloodstains in the ravines became bright red and sticky again.

A heavy stench of blood filled the air, the previous phantom of the girl vanished, the old and decaying aura faded away rapidly, and time seemed to flow backward.

A young girl lay naked on the altar, blood from her neck slowly trickling down the platform and into the ravines on the ground.

She was still breathing, her body convulsing in excruciating pain.

"Failed again...failed again...what went wrong...?"

An aged voice echoed in the hall.

On the wooden bed where bones had been lying, an old man exuding a putrid stench sat up.

He held the silk scroll, examining it repeatedly, muttering to himself, "Not enough...not enough..."

Under the light, his face was contorted and grotesque, and his voice was like the low moans of a demon.

……

An old man stood naked in front of the altar, while a young girl with a slightly protruding belly lay on the ground.

Holding a sharp blade, he didn't hesitate for a moment and brutally ripped open the girl's belly.

Like a ravenous beast, he reached out and ripped open the wound, pulling out a still-wriggling humanoid mass of flesh and blood.

"Human pills...human pills...hehe...hehe..."

The old man held the flesh and blood in his hands, his expression frantic.

The girl was awakened by excruciating pain, then fainted repeatedly, and finally died in excruciating agony.

Her blood gushed into the ravine, mingling with the blood of countless other girls before her.

……

The old man was thin but incredibly strong. He lifted the corpse and threw it into the bronze cauldron, igniting a raging fire beneath it.

A muffled thud came from the cauldron; the corpse was being cooked alive.

Ding Xiangkui, who was watching from the side, was ashen-faced and felt nauseous.

Even though Ma Chenggang and Zhao Changming had seen life and death before, they still felt nauseous at this moment.

The black mist continuously shifted its imagery: disembowelment, extraction of elixirs, skinning, dismantling bones, cooking corpses...

A series of bloody and cruel scenes flashed by rapidly.

This old man was no longer human, but a demon in human skin.

In his vain pursuit of immortality, he abandoned all humanity, resorting to methods so brutal as to be utterly appalling.

Countless girls' faces churned in the black mist, their mournful wails echoing through the hall—childish, hoarse, broken cries—mixed with heart-wrenching anguish and desperate sobs.

More sounds were drowned out by the pool of blood: the muffled groans of intestines being torn apart, the crisp cracking of bones breaking, and the desperate sobs of those who watched helplessly as they were slaughtered.

They seemed to be telling everyone present about their pain, sorrow, and resentment...

-----------------

But just then, an untimely chirping of birds suddenly rang out.

Even without seeing its shadow, one can sense a vibrant life force simply by hearing its voice.

The originally distorted and rising black mist suddenly stopped, and the surrounding scenery changed instantly.

The dark and damp hall at the bottom of the well has disappeared, replaced by a sunny outdoor space.

The mountains are layered with verdant peaks, their summits shrouded in a light mist.

Beneath our feet lies lush green grass, dotted with wildflowers that sway gently in the breeze.

A babbling brook flows beside me, its water crystal clear. Pebbles gleam warmly in the sunlight, and a few small fish swim by, swishing their tails and shattering the shimmering surface.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground, and the air was filled with the fresh scent of grass and earth.