The Gemstone Temple

After Shangguan Meixue relayed Huo Xuan's request, the tribesmen stood frozen for a moment before sprinting toward the mountain. Huo Xuan knew they were heading to fetch ice—in this remote place without electricity, let alone refrigerators, the only source of ice would be the mountain peaks.

The remaining tribesmen respectfully escorted the two into a thatched hut, offering plates of fruit and local snacks. Admittedly, the tribe's cuisine was rustic—large, roughly prepared portions with simple flavors.

Three hours passed before the group returned, each carrying a large chunk of ice wrapped in buffalo hide, each piece the size of a watermelon—more than a dozen in total.

Huo Xuan inspected the ice and nodded in satisfaction, then ordered them to find a large container. Since the tribe typically bathed in the river, they had no bathtubs. Eventually, they produced a metal oil drum—its origins a mystery.

He instructed them to place the ice inside the drum and fill it with water. Soon, the temperature dropped to freezing—the natural state of an ice-water mixture.

Next, he had the elderly woman lowered into the drum, submerging her up to her neck in the icy water. Already weak, she immediately began trembling violently, unable to speak.

"What are you doing? This could kill her!" Shangguan Meixue whispered urgently, fearing that a death would make their departure impossible.

Huo Xuan remained calm. "Just watch."

His plan was to force the parasites out of her body using the extreme cold. He had observed that these parasites were hermaphroditic and preferred to lay eggs in warmer areas of the host.

Though the human body maintains only slight temperature variations, these parasites were sensitive enough to detect even minor differences. They would migrate from internal organs toward warmer zones to reproduce.

Additionally, the woman's fever—caused by the parasites—had created a vicious cycle: higher body temperatures accelerated their reproduction, worsening her condition.

By chilling her body, Huo Xuan aimed to halt the parasites' breeding cycle and drive them out completely.

The icy water worked swiftly. Within ten minutes, the old woman's body temperature normalized. Huo Xuan's X-ray Vision confirmed the parasites' activity had slowed dramatically, their reproduction halted.

Time crawled. Twenty minutes later, the woman's lips turned blue, her pleading eyes begging for relief.

Huo Xuan pressed a palm to her forehead, channeling a wisp of golden light of Buddha Eye into her body. This divine thread safeguarded her vitality, preventing hypothermic death.

Then came the biologically impossible: her core temperature plummeted from 37°C to near 10°C.

Humans are homeothermic—our bodies regulate temperature with precision. For a living person to drop this low defied nature; only corpses grew this cold.

The parasites, unable to endure such extremes, died en masse. Survivors fled their frozen host in desperation.

Soon, wriggling white threads erupted from the woman's mouth—only to freeze instantly in the icy bath.

This macabre purge lasted over an hour. Only when Huo Xuan confirmed every parasite's demise did he order her removal.

Though baffled by his methods, the tribesmen obeyed without question—their "deity's" will was absolute. Yet seeing the woman's corpse-like pallor, even they grew doubtful.

The hulking leader rasped, "Is she dead?"

Huo Xuan waved dismissively. "Alive. Cured. Recovery's imminent."

True to his word, warmth gradually returned to her body. When her eyes fluttered open, she stood unaided—weakness gone, vitality restored.

Tears streaming, she prostrated before Huo Xuan, chanting prayers. The entire tribe followed suit, their awed murmurs swelling into a reverent chorus.

Huo Xuan winked at Shangguan Meixue. "Not a bad place to wait for extraction."

That night, they stayed as honored guests. The 40-year-old chieftain surrendered his own hut to them, presenting a feast of roasted game, honeyed tubers, and fermented palm wine.

After staying overnight, Huo Xuan explored the tribe's surroundings the next day and stumbled upon an ancient temple. Though modest in size, its weathered stones spoke of centuries past. Perched precariously on a cliff face, the structure was nearly inaccessible—Huo Xuan had found it only by chance.

Inside, rows of bizarre idols lined the walls, many bearing animal-human hybrids. One statue in particular caught his eye.

Three meters tall, it had a lion's head and a human body—but its most striking feature was an enormous, hollow belly. Peering inside, Huo Xuan's pulse quickened.

The cavity overflowed with gemstones: sapphires, topazes, rubies, emeralds, amethysts—every color glittered in the dim light.

Why would gems be stuffed inside a deity's statue? he wondered. Deliberate offerings? But why?

Shangguan Meixue entered behind him. "This is their Gemstone God," she explained. "Legend says it devours jewels to protect the tribe. The temple dates back five, maybe six hundred years."

"Was this region once rich in gems?" Huo Xuan asked.

She nodded. "According to British historians, a unified 'Gemstone Dynasty' ruled here centuries ago. Their mines produced exquisite stones—so coveted that Western powers and Arab nations nearly waged war over them."

"Then natural disasters toppled the dynasty, and the gems vanished mysteriously." She gestured at the temple. "This was likely built during that golden age."

Huo Xuan pieced it together: the dynasty's people had fed gems to their deity as tributes, begging for blessings. Though their civilization collapsed, the temple endured.

Suddenly, he turned to her. "I want to take this statue. Any ideas?"