Chapter Nineteen: Cause and Effect

Zhou Yi took the vial, examining it with runes swirling around its surface. After a moment, he said, “There’s truly no trace of spiritual energy, but are you certain this solution is safe?”

The Emperor of Qin sat back down in his chair, replying, “They say the failure rate is less than one percent.”

Zhou Yi frowned slightly. “One percent? That’s still quite high. What about its effects?”

“This technology is only in its infancy for them, not very advanced yet. This vial can only enhance the human body by about tenfold.”

“That’s far too low.”

“That’s the best that can be done for now. After all, this method doesn’t rely on spiritual energy. Originally, they didn’t pay much attention to this technology—if I hadn’t brought it up, the department researching it would’ve been dissolved by now.”

As if recalling something, the Emperor of Qin gave a bitter smile. “This single vial cost half a stalk of imperial medicine to refine!”

“Half a stalk of imperial medicine!” Zhou Yi’s eyes widened in disbelief. “That’s impossible! The energy contained in half a stalk of imperial medicine is enough for a mortal to attain the Dharma Body. How could it only...”

“That’s exactly why they wanted to shut down the department—too costly, too little effect. What’s the point?” The Emperor shook his head, sighing, then added, “Let Tian take it here. If anything happens, I can intervene.”

Zhou Yi looked at the vial in his hand, then glanced at Zhou Tian. “Very well.”

Zhou Tian, who had been eavesdropping intently, seized his chance to interject. “What is this?”

He’d been listening for a while and could more or less guess it was meant for him. He wanted to know why he was being made to drink it—especially since there was a chance of failure.

Genetic serum—the mere mention conjured up images of gene recombination, mutation, and hulking green giants. “Less than one percent chance of failure,” they said. Nonsense! If it happens to you, that chance is a hundred percent! What if it fails? Then what?

“It can make you stronger. Drink it!”

Zhou Yi stepped up to Zhou Tian, holding out the vial.

“I won’t drink it!” Zhou Tian raised his hand in protest, refusing to accept it.

“Just drink it—it’s for your own good!” Zhou Yi’s brow furrowed, energy surging around him, clearly ready to use force.

“Why are you making me drink this? Strengthening the body tenfold at most is hardly better than passing the Mortal Shedding stage. Such power is useless.” Zhou Tian had heard everything just now. Perhaps a tenfold boost would’ve meant something in his last life, but here, it was worthless.

“This is only the first dose. There will be many more afterward!” Zhou Yi patiently explained.

“Why do I need strength? Don’t I have you?” Zhou Tian replied with a fawning smile, hoping to brush the matter aside.

Zhou Yi’s face darkened. “After the Youth Tournament, there will be a training trial. This is a tradition passed down for generations in the Zhou family. There can be no exceptions. Without strength, you’d simply be sent to your death!”

“I won’t drink it! What if something goes wrong?” Zhou Tian was exasperated. What kind of ridiculous trial was this? But he still refused. He had his own advantages—why risk this? Who knew what might happen after drinking it!

“Your royal brother is here watching. If anything happens, he’ll save you!” Zhou Yi was clearly losing patience.

“I won’t drink it!” Zhou Tian insisted, his expression stern. He wasn’t afraid of dying—he had his own cheat, and every death only added to his tally. In fact, he was frustrated that he couldn’t die! What he feared was gene mutation—what could he do if he turned into a monster? Resurrection didn’t come with genetic correction.

Perhaps due to the differences in their respective paths, the Emperor and the others didn’t understand genetics, but Zhou Tian did. This stuff fundamentally altered living beings. The real trouble was if a mutation occurred—if he became some giant green freak, the undying system wouldn’t care. You hadn’t died, so it wasn’t their concern.

“Drink it!” Zhou Yi finally lost all patience. Runes surged around him, crimson seals wrapping Zhou Tian and immobilizing him. The vial floated up, tilting toward Zhou Tian’s mouth.

“Don’t force me,” Zhou Tian shouted, the only part of him free being his mouth.

“You little scoundrel, this is for your own good!” Zhou Yi’s expression was dark; why were his first two sons so easy, but this one caused endless trouble!

The Emperor of Qin lounged in his chair with a cup of tea, golden light radiating in all directions. He shook his head. Glancing at the nearby Tian Ling, he waved his hand, conjuring a chair behind her and motioning for her to sit. Tian Ling sat, a little nervous.

Just as the serum was about to enter his mouth, Zhou Tian gritted his teeth and activated [Teleportation].

In a blur, Zhou Tian slipped free from Zhou Yi’s control, reappearing behind Tian Ling. Flexing his limbs and catching his breath, he said, “I told you—I don’t want to drink it.”

Zhou Yi frowned, his form flickering as he half-stepped into the void—only to be struck out by a flash of golden runes. The palace’s spatial seals were even stronger than those at the Prince Qin’s residence!

A profound rune flickered in the Emperor’s eyes as his brow furrowed. That was... the path of time?

Shaken by his abrupt expulsion from the void, Zhou Yi quickly recovered. This was the imperial palace; even he couldn’t break its spatial wards. So how had Zhou Tian traversed space?

Zhou Yi’s figure blurred again, this time relying purely on speed.

Zhou Tian vanished as well, appearing before the door.

“You little rascal, what’s going on?” Zhou Yi gave chase, his movements nearly invisible, his speed astonishing.

“Mind over matter! If I can do it, so can you!” Zhou Tian dared not stop. The first time, Zhou Yi had a casting delay, giving him time to react. Now, he couldn’t keep up—if he stopped, he’d be caught!

Zhou Yi gritted his teeth, his face growing darker. Mind over matter? Damn it!

Watching Zhou Tian flicker about, the Emperor’s frown deepened. He was now certain Zhou Tian was using the power of time—but how could that be?

His lips moved slightly, issuing a command into the void.

From the palace’s depths, five elders emerged, all white-haired and their skin like withered wood. With a single step, they appeared outside the Hall of Tranquility, able to bypass the spatial seals under imperial decree.

The five exchanged glances, spreading into a pentagon. Energy surged from their bodies, runes erupting in brilliance as a mysterious aura filled the space. Countless silver seals linked into chains, forming a vast, intricate array that enveloped the entire hall.

Inside the Hall of Tranquility, after one more teleportation, Zhou Tian finally stopped. Ignoring Zhou Yi, who had seized him by the collar, he looked at the Emperor.

The feedback from his last [Teleportation] revealed it wasn’t time manipulation, but causality. In the palace, only the Emperor had the power to seal off time.

The Emperor’s brows were now tightly knit. That technique just now—what was it? Even he couldn’t decipher it.