Reacting instantly, Ye Wen's expression turned icy as he said:
"Give me back the medicine, Tang San."
Perhaps because he hadn't formed a sworn sibling bond with Xiao Wu, Tang San's personality wasn't as low-key and reserved as in the original story. Instead, he now exuded an arrogant edge, tossing the bowl of medicine behind him with a dismissive flick.
At that moment, Tang San declared, "Why should I give it back to you? So you can continue harming people?
How old are you? Have you apprenticed under any master healers? Do you even know what medicinal herbs are or how to treat illnesses? You're just using this patient as your guinea pig.
If you truly wanted to cure someone, you could cleanse their internal organs with your soul power and remove the illness. Why bother feeding them some herbal concoction? I'm here to stop your malicious intentions!"
Though poison and medicine were closely related, Tang San, as a disciple of the Tang Sect in his past life, was only skilled at refining poisons—not medicinal remedies for treating illnesses.
Moreover, in Tang San's mind, only those who were at least in their thirties or forties would have the knowledge to diagnose and prescribe medicine. This native of Douluo continent, barely ten years old and without any notable heritage, dared to prescribe medicine? Wasn't he just using others as test subjects?
I, Tang San, the embodiment of justice, will not allow such evil deeds to unfold before my eyes!
At this moment, Ye Wen's gaze grew dark and unreadable. He had been avoiding this protagonist all this time—why did this guy have to show up and cause trouble while he was doing something important? Did he really think Ye Wen wouldn't dare kill him?
Well, truth be told, Ye Wen couldn't kill Tang San right now.
After all, Tang San's background was too strong. Setting aside his future identity as the God of Retribution, even Tang Hao, lurking somewhere in the shadows as a voyeur, was someone Ye Wen couldn't afford to provoke.
However, that didn't mean Ye Wen was powerless against Tang San.
You, Tang San, pride yourself on being morally impeccable? Then I'll use morality to bind you!
With that, Ye Wen suppressed the coldness in his eyes. First, he carefully laid the patient back on the bed, then turned to Tang San with an indifferent gaze.
"The method you mentioned is indeed feasible, Tang San.
But have you considered one problem?"
It was the first time in three years that Tang San had directly faced Ye Wen. To his surprise, Ye Wen's gaze reminded him of the stern and authoritative Elder from his past life, causing him to instinctively feel a twinge of fear as he hesitantly asked:
"W-what problem?"
As he spoke, Ye Wen calmly retrieved a new batch of herbs from the storage-type soul tool gifted by his thoughtful grandmother. With practiced ease, he began washing and boiling them.
"As a disciple of Master Yu Xiaogang, you should know roughly how many soul masters exist on Douluo continent. And you should also know how rare it is for a commoner to become a soul master."
Ye Wen's words struck a chord in Tang San's pride. After all, Tang San greatly admired Yu Xiaogang's theories and wisdom, so he straightened his chest and confidently replied:
"Of course I know. Though there's no official statistic, the number of soul masters on Douluo continent definitely exceeds 100,000. As for the probability of a commoner becoming a soul master, my teacher conducted research and found that roughly one in several hundred might awaken innate soul power."
Upon hearing this answer, Ye Wen remained unfazed—it was the same information he already knew.
However, he didn't believe for a second that Yu Xiaogang had actually conducted such research. From his years at Nuoding Academy, where Yu Xiaogang never taught a single class, it was clear how arrogant and lazy the man was.
Take, for example, the fabricated data Yu Xiaogang used to deceive Tang San about the number of Blue Silver Grass soul masters—a blatant piece of evidence.
Though Yu Xiaogang often preached that there were no useless martial souls, only useless soul masters, deep down, he knew the truth: there were only useless martial souls, not useless soul masters.
The extraordinary system of Douluo continent was inherently unfair. Whether someone could become a soul master was predetermined by their bloodline. Only in rare cases could commoners awaken even a sliver of innate soul power from mediocre martial souls, and even rarer were instances of soul mutations.
So, knowing full well that the Blue Silver Grass martial soul was universally regarded as trash, how could Yu Xiaogang, who desperately wanted to prove himself by mentoring geniuses, possibly bother investigating such a useless martial soul?
He had simply stumbled upon the information in a book.
Still, Ye Wen had to admire Yu Xiaogang's audacity. If not for his limited talent, his shameless lies and thick-skinned tactics might have achieved great things if backed by sufficient strength.
But returning to the matter at hand, after hearing Tang San's response, Ye Wen's lips curled into a faint sneer as he asked:
"Then let me ask you this, Tang San: among these one-in-a-hundred individuals who've struggled to rise above and become soul masters, how many do you think would lower themselves to use their soul power to heal the commoners standing before you?"
Tang San's body stiffened instantly.
Without much thought, the answer was already clear in his mind.
Whether in his past or present life, the answer was a resounding no. How could those lofty and powerful individuals stoop to rescue peasants mired in the mud?
Such altruistic figures did exist, but Tang San, a reclusive otaku obsessed with stealing Tang Sect techniques in his past life, had only encountered them in fictional stories. He dismissed such people as unrealistic fantasies.
Though Tang San secretly aspired to be one of them, given how noble and admirable they seemed.
However, his narrow-mindedness was evident when, despite witnessing the corruption and decadence of the nobility in the future, he ultimately allowed the continuation of the aristocratic system.
Though the exchange had been brief, Tang San was utterly defeated by Ye Wen. His trembling body betrayed his inability to respond.
Meanwhile, Ye Wen continued unperturbed:
"It seems you already know the answer.
But you're right—I am using this patient as an experiment."
Tang San, who had been wavering, suddenly perked up, ready to mock Ye Wen. But before he could speak, Ye Wen added:
"However, everything was agreed upon by the patient himself. If I hadn't given him the medicine, he would've had no choice but to endure the illness.
You know there are no healing soul masters or doctors nearby. Moreover, his weak constitution due to poverty meant he would likely succumb to the illness. So, I gave him the option to try my experimental treatment.
This medicine has been meticulously formulated and tested repeatedly to ensure it poses no danger. Even in the worst-case scenario, though it may not cure the illness, it will certainly not kill him.
So, do you still want to stop me, Tang San?"
Having finished preparing the medicine, Ye Wen calmly fixed his gaze on Tang San.
Zhou Yu striking Huang Gai—one willing to endure, the other willing to punish. What more could Tang San say?
Could he really insist on saving someone who had willingly chosen this path?
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