The Fox's Tail

"Relieving such a curse is not particularly arduous; I possess a unique technique that can counter most forms of poison. However, I cannot guarantee with complete certainty that it will effectively neutralize this particular curse," Yang Fan replied languidly, though an undercurrent of tension coursed through him. This was, after all, his first foray back into the world of cultivation, and he yearned for nothing less than a flawless victory.

"Pray tell, Yang the Apothecary, what level of assurance do you possess? If your skills are lacking, it would be a disservice to the esteemed daughter of the town," Hu Bansian said, his smile concealing a blade, an insidious air radiating from him. He sought to exert pressure on Yang Fan, a fledgling in the field of medicine, under the watchful eyes of the assembly. 

Yet, Yang Fan remained unfazed, his calm demeanor unwavering, leaving Hu Bansian once again disheartened. "This youth truly does not resemble an inexperienced practitioner…" Hu Bansian mused uneasily, for it was rare to find a novice apothecary exuding such remarkable composure in the face of scrutiny.

"My confidence is moderate, perhaps around eighty percent," Yang Fan stated, a reassuring smile gracing his lips, emanating an aura of warmth that elicited involuntary trust and admiration from those around him. "I can attempt to eliminate the curse in a single effort. Should this method prove ineffective, I possess alternative remedies to alleviate the young lady's affliction. Rest assured, esteemed Town Leader Liu."

"Eighty percent confidence?" Hu Bansian's jaw fell slightly agape, surprise flickering across his countenance. This assurance was indeed quite comforting, particularly as it concerned a method aimed at permanent resolution.

Within the parlor, the composed Zheng the Apothecary's eyes glimmered with newfound interest, revealing a hint of skepticism. "Eighty percent confidence? From where does this young man derive such audacity?" 

Eighty percent certainty—a claim so bold that even he, a seasoned apothecary, would hesitate to proclaim it.

"Please, esteemed sir!" Liu DeGui exclaimed, his joy palpable as he urged Yang Fan forward to attend to the ailments of the young woman.

The maidservant hastily lifted a corner of the sheer curtain, revealing half of the reclining lady's form. 

"Please, esteemed sir," Liu Manxiang extended a delicate, porcelain-like arm, her compliance evident. 

"Pardon my intrusion." Yang Fan showed no hesitation, resting two fingers lightly on Liu Manxiang's wrist as he closed his eyes, preparing to channel the newly acquired "Detoxification Technique." 

Under the collective gaze of the onlookers, a faint, ethereal green aura shimmered at his fingertips, swirling in mesmerizing patterns, resplendent and enchanting. 

However, mere mortals could scarcely perceive such sights, while the cultivators present were taken aback, recognizing that Yang Fan had begun to weave his spell.

In his heightened awareness, Yang Fan sensed two intertwined, serpentine strands of emerald light extending from his fingertips, spiraling gracefully into Liu Manxiang's body. 

As they traversed, numerous minuscule toxins disintegrated into nothingness.

From the annotations on the Detoxification Technique, Yang Fan learned that the human body harbored countless minute toxins, but it was not feasible to expel them all; their existence held intrinsic significance.

After a brief while, the serpentine emerald light infiltrated various regions within Liu Manxiang, dissipating a scattering of the cursed insects. 

The curse was a peculiar entity; it could lie dormant within the body, yet shift its position at will. Upon activation, it could instantaneously reproduce a multitude of cursed insects, consuming the flesh and blood of its host.

It was said that certain formidable curses could even devour the very essence of cultivators.

Moments passed, and Yang Fan's expression shifted to one of astonishment; while he had eradicated several of the cursed insects with the Detoxification Technique, the primary source—the mother curse—remained unresolved.

Thus, he resumed his meticulous search…

Time slipped by, and even Yang Fan felt a twinge of impatience.

Hu Bansian, stationed nearby, couldn't help but mock, "Yang the Apothecary, we are nearing the time it takes to burn half a stick of incense; do you still possess any confidence?" 

Half a stick of incense? Yang Fan blinked, momentarily taken aback. It felt as though not much time had passed.

In contrast, Zheng the Apothecary interjected with a chuckle, "Oh, Yang the Apothecary, fret not; we are still quite far from that time." 

With this remark, he cast a subtle glance at Hu Bansian.

Hu Bansian felt a chill run down his spine, the weight of pressure intensifying.

When it came to medical expertise and experience, he and Zheng the Apothecary were worlds apart.

Yang Fan suddenly comprehended Hu Bansian's tactic—intentionally extending the perceived passage of time to unsettle him, thereby hindering his ability to manifest his true capabilities.

With this revelation, Yang Fan slipped into "Omniscient Mode," amplifying his sensory faculties, allowing him to meticulously explore every crevice within Liu Manxiang's body.

Finally, in a most concealed recess, he located the true source of the curse.

As he pinpointed the curse's exact location, a surge of fury welled within him, directed toward Hu Bansian's insidious machinations.

How vile and disgraceful it was that Hu Bansian had transferred the mother curse to the young woman's most intimate region! 

If a typical apothecary were tasked with this, they would hardly suspect that the practitioner would choose to harbor the curse in such an indecorous area. 

Yet Hu Bansian had dared to do so, even scattering several inconsequential cursed insects throughout Liu Manxiang's body to divert attention and ensnare them in a ruse, rendering any effort to treat merely superficial.

With a deep exhale, Yang Fan realized Hu Bansian's treachery, a man unprincipled and merciless; such an adversary must be eradicated in due course.

Within his heart, a dark intent began to fester.

However, he stifled any immediate thoughts of confronting Hu Bansian. As an apothecary entering the realm of cultivation, he must not overtly showcase overwhelming prowess or might. If he were to eliminate Hu Bansian, it would have to be executed stealthily and without a trace.

Having identified the mother curse, the subsequent steps became decidedly more manageable.

Yang Fan, executing the Detoxification Technique in practice, guided the intertwining, serpentine green lines into Liu Manxiang's intimate area. 

Rest assured, these actions remained confined within her body, not transgressing the surface; Yang Fan had no intention of indulging in any sordid or indecent behavior.

With a resounding hiss, a strange, ethereal sound echoed, reverberating through the air.

The individuals in the room trembled at the sound, their hearts leaping in response.

Without mercy, Yang Fan annihilated the mother cursed insect.

Almost simultaneously, Liu Manxiang, reclining on the bed, emitted a delicate moan, her complexion suddenly flushing with warmth, her body softening as if succumbing to a trance.

Fortunately, the sheer fabric provided a modicum of modesty, sparing her much of the audience's attention to her predicament.

Yet the sound of her moan stirred the minds of those present, inciting a flurry of wild imaginations.

Liu DeGui, upon hearing his daughter's tender sound, was instantly alarmed and questioned, "Yang the Apothecary, what has transpired?"

At that moment, Yang Fan withdrew his hands, nonchalantly declaring, "The curse has been lifted; however, the perpetrator's malevolence proved quite taxing on my concentration." 

He then turned his gaze toward Hu Bansian, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

At that instant, Hu Bansian's face drained of color, appearing somewhat weakened. 

"Ah? Hu Bansian, are you unwell? Your countenance is rather pale. I have just successfully treated Liu Manxiang; perhaps I should examine you as well," Yang Fan remarked, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

Unbeknownst to the others, a unique connection existed between the curse and its caster; when the cursed insects perished, the practitioner would experience a corresponding strain on their spirit.

With Yang Fan's words, the gazes of the assembly shifted to Hu Bansian.

"There's no need for concern, esteemed Yang! I assure you, I'm perfectly fine!" Hu Bansian feigned confidence, forcing his blood to rush to his face, restoring some semblance of color, all the while harboring a deep-seated loathing for Yang Fan.

Zheng the Apothecary observed this interplay, a thoughtful expression settling on his features.

"Yang the Apothecary, is it true that my daughter is indeed unscathed?" Liu DeGui's excitement knew no bounds, oblivious to Hu Bansian's peculiar demeanor.

Yang Fan nodded, "She has been completely cured." 

He then added, his smile playful, "Upon vanquishing the mother curse, the practitioner will inevitably suffer a momentary shock to their spirit…"

With this, he deliberately cast a sidelong glance at the unusually pale Hu Bansian, speaking with feigned concern, "Hu Bansian, it seems you may be experiencing some affliction. Would you truly prefer that I take a look?"

The gathered crowd instinct

ively turned their attention back to Hu Bansian's face.

At this juncture, it was evident to any discerning mind that the situation was amiss.

"Do you suspect, dear Yang, that I am the one responsible for this curse?" Hu Bansian's voice dripped with disdain, his countenance a mask of incredulity.