Hou Zhongyu's eyes were nearly bleeding.
This furnace of Eternal Cangyue was passed down from his master. His master betrayed the sect, and he, because of this furnace of precious medicine, killed his own master. The inheritance among cultivators was fraught with difficulties, most of which stemmed from such betrayals.
At this moment, his heart felt like it was being cut by a knife, and the cries of despair were as mournful as an owl's hoot:
"This furnace of medicine has been refined for a full eighty years!"
"Eighty years! Only a few months remain until the ultimate number of ninety-nine, eighty-one!"
"Just a bit more of the marrow from Nanshan, just a few more months! I will kill you! I will kill you!!!"
Li Guanyi staggered backward, the bronze cauldron in his hand crashing to the ground.
Hou Zhongyu saw that there was still a bit of residue left inside. He wished he could dive in and consume every last bit. Seeing Li Guanyi's skin visibly reddening, Hou Zhongyu was filled with boundless killing intent, envy, and a kind of indescribable emotion.
It had been so many years since he killed his master, and the obsession that had settled within the imperial palace was the need to know whether he had succeeded or not. This feeling transcended everything, causing him to shout: