Mad Doctor No. 9

"Your status in the Dark Palace has risen again." She looked at the screen and smiled slightly. "Brother Wang Tian, ​​get some rest. We... will meet again."

"I hope you won't let me down when the time comes."

The image disappeared, and the secret room was plunged into darkness once again.

Only the character "Dark" on the token gleamed with a cold light.

Tianchi Military Region Sanatorium, Changbai Mountain.

Wang Tian sat in a wheelchair, wearing a thick military uniform, looking out the window at the swirling snow.

He stayed here for more than half a month, and his recovery was much slower than he had expected.

The side effects of the Nine Netherworld Breakthrough Pill far exceeded his expectations. His meridians began to shrink, cracks appeared in his dantian, and his vital essence was depleted.

Even with hot spring baths and precious medicinal herbs, he could only stand for ten minutes, and could only exert one-tenth of his internal energy.

"Little brother, it's time to take your medicine."

Wang Yu walked in carrying a bowl of black medicinal soup, which had a pungent smell.

Wang Tian picked up the bowl and drank it down without changing his expression.

He personally prepared this medicine, using poison to fight poison, stimulating his atrophied meridians with the highly toxic "ice toad blood," causing him unbearable pain.

"Cough cough..." The medicine began to take effect, and a stream of black blood spurted from his mouth.

"Brother!" Wang Yu hurriedly took the towel.

Wang Tian wiped his mouth and said, "It's nothing serious, just some blood stasis. How much did you vomit today?"

"The doctor said that the amount of blood clots coughed up is decreasing, which is a good sign."

Wang Tian nodded and looked out the window.

The sanatorium is built against the mountain, with Tianchi Lake in front and a primeval forest behind it.

The area is heavily guarded, with a company of officers both overt and covert. Old Xu is very concerned about his safety.

"Where is Guo Zi?"

Wang Yu was taken aback: "Brother, Guo Zi seems to have something on his mind these past few days, he's always spacing out."

Wang Tian remained silent.

He was well aware of Guo Zi's thoughts.

He had not yet avenged the Dragon Gate Society, and he himself was already a cripple.

Guo Zi was burning with rage.

"Did you find anything?"

"I received an encrypted email yesterday, and Guozi spent a long time reading it," Wang Yu said, taking out her notebook. "He said he'd tell you when you're feeling better."

Wang Tian took the tablet and entered his password.

It was sent by Lin Qingfeng.

"Traces of the Dark Temple have appeared. In the past three months, 17 thefts have occurred in the three northeastern provinces, all using sophisticated methods and targeting specific Liao and Jin dynasty witchcraft items. These are suspected to be sacrificial offerings from the Dark Temple. Additionally, unfamiliar faces have recently appeared in Changbai Mountain, suspected to be remnants of Japanese aggression. Be careful."

The email also included several blurry pictures. Wang Tian's pupils contracted slightly.

This is a street in Changbai Town. A woman wearing a down jacket is selling roasted sweet potatoes by the roadside. Although she is wearing a hat and a scarf, from the side, her silhouette is clearly that of the missing Yamamoto Chiyuki!

How did she end up in China?

"Brother, are you alright?" Wang Yu noticed the change in his expression and asked.

"It's nothing." Wang Tian turned off the tablet. "Take me to the study; I need to look up some information."

The study was filled with ancient books sent by Old Xu, many of which were about shamanism and the dragon veins of Northeast China.

Wang Tian spent three days and three nights looking at it, and gradually he sorted out his thoughts.

Changbai Mountain is the starting point of the Northern Dragon, and in feng shui, it is known as one of the "Three Dragon Veins of China," a mountain steeped in countless ancient legends. During the Liao and Jin dynasties, shamanism flourished here, leaving behind a wealth of sacrificial relics and artifacts. If the Dark Temple is indeed collecting shamanic artifacts, then their purpose is likely not so simple.

"They might be setting up a formation," Wang Tian told Guo Zi on the fourth night.

"Summon what?" Guo Zi's eyes widened.

Wang Tian shook his head. "However, shamanism believes in animism, and most of their ritual implements are used to communicate with the spirit world. They collect these probably to summon something... that shouldn't be here."

He remembered that the Golden Core cultivator had once had a memory of the "Gateway to the Realms." In ancient times, there were many passages connecting the heavens, but they were later sealed off by powerful beings. Shamanism teaches some forbidden arts, which are said to be able to open the Gateway to the Realms for a short time, but this is just a legend.

Wang Tianxia made up his mind and said, "Starting tomorrow, I will go up the mountain."

"Ah? Brother, your body..."

Wang Tian said calmly, "The medicinal effects of hot springs and herbs have reached their limit. The fifth level of the 'Dragon Transformation Technique' is a transformative technique that can allow a person to be reborn in dire straits. Deep in the Changbai Mountains, there is something called 'Cold Jade Marrow,' which, in extremely cold places, might have the effect of rebuilding meridians."

Guo Zi wanted to persuade him, but seeing Wang Tian's resolute expression, he stopped talking.

"I'll go with you."

Wang Tian patted him on the shoulder and said, "Also, inform Lin Qingfeng to send someone to monitor Yamamoto Chiyuki's movements. I want to know why she appeared in Changbai Mountain."

The next morning, Wang Tian greeted the person in charge of the sanatorium and then drove his snowmobile into the mountains alone.

He didn't reveal his true destination—the "Ice Cave" at the bottom of Tianchi Lake. Tianchi Lake isn't an ordinary volcanic lake, but a cave that leads directly to the earth's core, containing a piece of thousand-year-old cold jade.

The mountain road was steep and the snow was deep. Wang Tian was exhausted and, after driving for less than two hours, he began to gasp for breath and had to stop to rest.

He leaned against a century-old pine tree, took out a thermos, and drank hot water in large gulps.

Suddenly, his ears twitched.

A soft footstep came from the woods on the left.

It wasn't just one person.

Wang Tian silently put away the water bottle, but his hand reached for his waist without making a sound; there were three meteorite needles hidden there.

The footsteps grew louder as they approached, finally stopping twenty meters away.

Wang Tian calmly said, "Come out."

The woods were quiet for a moment, then three figures emerged.

Leading the way was an elderly man of about sixty, dressed in a traditional Oroqen fur robe. His face was weathered, but his eyes were as sharp as a hawk's. Behind him were two young people, a man and a woman, carrying hunting rifles.

"Chinese people, this is not a tourist attraction," the old man said in heavily accented Mandarin.

Wang Tian glanced at him and was slightly taken aback.

He exuded a restrained aura and moved with an effortless grace, clearly a master. In addition, he wore a necklace made of animal bones with a bronze bell hanging from it—a symbol of a shaman.