Dugu Bo was horrified to realize that every single one of Chen Ming's observations was correct.
No matter how he tried to verify it, the conclusion remained the same—he had been poisoned deeply, the toxin already seeping into his organs.
Initially, Dugu Bo wanted to refute him, but eventually, he lost all strength. He leaned against a nearby tree, staring up at the sky as if his very soul had been drained away.
Kill him to silence the truth?
If that could truly solve the problem, Dugu Bo would not hesitate. But if even a mere junior could see that his poison had reached his organs…
Then what about the renowned Titled Douluo of the world? What about the famous masters of poison and medicine?
Had they all already seen through him?
He could kill one person, but could he kill everyone in the world?
Perhaps, all this time, he had thought he was hiding it perfectly, while in reality, others had long since seen through his condition and were merely watching from the shadows, amused at his ignorance.
"…Poison in the organs… beyond cure…" he murmured, his voice low and desolate.
"Not beyond cure—just difficult to treat," Chen Ming corrected softly from the side.
"…?!"
Dugu Bo froze.
Then, as if struck by lightning, he jerked his head up, his eyes blazing with sudden light.
"Difficult… not impossible?"
He shot to his feet like a corpse reanimated, grabbing Chen Ming by both shoulders with such force that Chen Ming couldn't help but let out a pained cry.
Startled, Dugu Bo immediately released him, though his gaze remained sharp, locked onto Chen Ming.
"I've only read a few books," Chen Ming said calmly. "I can see your condition, but I originally assumed that, as the first Titled Douluo in history to specialize in poison, your mastery had reached such heights that you could function normally even in such a state…"
He paused, studying Dugu Bo's reaction.
"But now it seems… could it be that something went wrong in your cultivation, and you've been poisoned by your own toxins?"
In truth, while Chen Ming appeared emotional earlier, the moment he saw Dugu Bo, he had already slipped into his "AI thinking mode," silently analyzing everything.
Dugu Bo's mental state—confused, unstable, teetering on the edge—had been obvious.
And so, Chen Ming had already planned his next move.
"Hmph."
Dugu Bo let out a proud snort, yet found himself unable to respond.
To admit it would be humiliating.
To deny it… might mean missing a chance at salvation.
After a long silence, he finally gave a reluctant nod.
"…Something did go wrong. Do you have a solution?"
"Senior, extend your wrist. Let me feel your pulse."
Chen Ming reached out, and after a brief hesitation, Dugu Bo exposed his wrist, his expression strange.
Pulse diagnosis wasn't really a concept in this world. While people knew that the pulse was tied to the heartbeat—and could use it to tell if someone was alive—they had no deeper understanding of its diagnostic value. Dugu Bo knew of it, but not its purpose.
In his previous life, Chen Ming had never formally studied traditional medicine, but he had skimmed through medical texts before. Back then, it had been little more than casual reading.
Now, with his AI-like cognition, he had retrieved all that knowledge and was actively analyzing it in his mind.
Though he lacked practical experience, in theory alone he could already be considered a master.
Granted, that title might not carry much more weight than Yu Xiaogang's "Grandmaster" in name—but in the Douluo world, it was effectively a dimensional advantage.
After all, Tang San could use realgar wine to counter the toxin of the Jade Phosphor Serpent… while Dugu Bo—
…Well, best not think about that for now.
Chen Ming's goal was simple: walk the path Tang San once took—leaving Tang San with nowhere left to go.
"Stick out your tongue," Chen Ming said evenly. "Let me examine the coating."
"Lower your head a bit, senior. Let me find a candle… now look at the flame—yes, follow it with your eyes, not your head. Right… just like that…"
In traditional diagnostics, there was an emphasis on observation, listening, inquiry, and palpation. Chen Ming wasn't particularly skilled in it, but he could at least compare what he saw against a normal person and form a rough judgment of Dugu Bo's condition.
After a thorough examination, he finally arrived at a conclusion—and the expression that surfaced on his face turned distinctly strange.
To put it simply, in any typical fantasy world, even a random cultivator by the roadside would immediately recognize that Dugu Bo was practicing a poison-based cultivation technique.
In a world like Shrouding the Heavens, a passing Great Emperor might even be able to name the exact technique, trace its lineage, and recount how many years it had been lost, all while praising its terrifying power.
But this was the Douluo Continent—a world that seemed to run on sheer "it works because I think it does" logic. Not only could almost no one see through the truth, but Dugu Bo himself wasn't cultivating some refined poison art at all—he was simply being backlashed by his own Martial Soul.
It looked like poisoning, and it was poisoning. There were barely any benefits, yet he had suffered the full brunt of the backlash.
Watching Chen Ming's expression shift, Dugu Bo felt a storm of conflicting emotions rise within him.
If this kid really has a solution, then begging him wouldn't matter… But if he doesn't… what then?
If even a random Titled Douluo or a master of pharmacology can tell I'm poisoned, what's the point of trying to hide it? I might as well start preparing for my funeral…
Chen Ming's words had shaken him badly. For the first time, Dugu Bo began to feel as though everyone could see through him—while he alone had been foolishly convinced he was hiding it well, like some kind of clown.
Chen Ming fell silent for a long while, closing his eyes as he devoted all his available "processing power" to analyzing the problem. Only after several moments did he open them again.
"Your condition isn't hard to identify at a glance," he said slowly. "But you are, at least on the surface, the first poison-attributed Titled Douluo on the Douluo Continent. Without careful examination, no one can say for certain whether this is the result of cultivating a unique poison technique… or simply backlash."
"Without precedent, outsiders can't draw a definite conclusion. But your situation…" He hesitated, his tone turning heavier.
"Senior, you've been poisoned for decades, haven't you? This isn't just poison seeping into your bones—it's spread into every corner of your body. You've been relying entirely on your Martial Soul and cultivation to hold it back. But the source of the poison… is your own Martial Soul."
"If you didn't have this Martial Soul, you wouldn't have survived to this day—but if you never had it in the first place, you wouldn't have been poisoned either. And since Martial Souls originate from bloodlines, if your descendants awaken the same one… this condition may very well be inherited."
Chen Ming paused, his expression troubled.
At those words, Dugu Bo's heart skipped a beat, and a chill spread through his chest.
"A complete cure… is difficult. With the time I've had just now, I've only managed to come up with a few methods to barely suppress it."
Hearing that, Dugu Bo felt his blood surge, his ears ringing.
What does he mean, a complete cure is difficult? What does he mean, he came up with several suppression methods in just a short while?
Was this kid even human?!
Dugu Bo's pride told him that there was no way a mere youth could solve, in moments, a problem he had struggled with for decades.
But his instinct to survive whispered something else entirely—what if there really is a way? Even if it's only suppression, it could mean hope for both me and Yanyan…
"And the cost?" he asked, his voice low. "Would I have to abandon my poison cultivation?"
Chen Ming shrugged lightly.
"Senior, if anyone tells you that abandoning your poison cultivation will cure you, you should just slap them to death."
"This poison of yours is a double-edged sword—it harms others, but it also harms you. Yet right now, the poison has already seeped into your bones. Abandoning your cultivation would be like throwing away your only defense and letting that blade cut straight through your neck."
"It's not that survival is impossible—but there's a ninety-nine percent chance you'd die on the spot. And that remaining one percent? It doesn't mean you live—it just means you don't die immediately… only to die moments later."
"Destroying your Spirit Power is easy enough—just shatter your dantian. But your poison has already permeated every part of your body. Even draining all your blood wouldn't remove it. The moment your soul power disappears, the poison will invade your heart and kill you instantly."
He paused briefly, then continued, his tone steady.
"As for solutions… right now, I can think of roughly three methods."
...
Drop some POWERSTONES to push the story forward!
PS: Read Advance Chapters at https://www.patreon.com/c/ReadJin