Chapter 162: Bloodline Awakening in the Secret History of Medicine Valley

Shen Yan still held the candied hawthorn in his palm, the syrup sticky between his fingers, a bit cloying.

Yet the light from the medicine pouch grew brighter and brighter, as if a tiny sun were hidden beneath the herbs. His eyelids twitched, and his phone automatically popped up an interface, green characters cascading like a waterfall: 【Detected high-density memory crystal, mental impact warning, recommend immediate isolation and handling】

“Something’s wrong,” he muttered under his breath, grabbing Pei Yue’s medicine pouch and placing it on the ground. His fingertips swiftly tapped out a segment of protective code. Spiritual energy hummed as it condensed into a transparent shield, wrapping the glowing mass tightly.

Ye Zhao immediately stood guard with her sword, her gaze sweeping over the surrounding stone pillars. Sword Qi sharp as needles pierced every corner where someone might be hiding. Luo Li’s ears twitched, her cat-like pupils narrowing: “This light… it carries a sob.”

Yu Xiaotang had already crouched beside the shield, whispering, “Could it be some predecessor’s last words on a USB drive?”

Shen Yan ignored her, focusing entirely on the terminal. The code had run halfway when the protective shield suddenly trembled, fine cracks appearing on its inner surface.

“Forced reading will cause it to explode,” he gritted his teeth. “We need to use Medicine Valley’s old frequency for slow release, or else our entire minds will be shattered.”

Pei Yue stood still in place, her face gradually paling. She seemed to know what was about to happen.

Shen Yan looked up at her: “If you can’t hold on, just say the word.”

Pei Yue shook her head, but her fingers quietly dug into her palm. Drops of blood trickled down between her fingers, tracing a crooked array in the air—the Heart-Guarding Array, a technique every Medicine Valley disciple learned upon entry. Yet no one had ever taught them how to guard a heart on the verge of shattering.

“Begin,” Shen Yan pressed Enter.

The light erupted.

Not an explosion, but a flow. Countless fragments surged from the crystal, like shredded old film reels, piecing together frame by frame into an image:

Fire.

The sky was filled with fire.

A young Pei Yue curled up inside a medicine cabinet, while outside, her master’s hoarse voice echoed: “Don’t make a sound, don’t make a sound… Heaven’s Secret Holders must not die, must not be cut off!”

A dark shadow kicked the door open, a flash of blade light, and the master fell. The figure stepped on the corpse, sneering: “Uproot the grass, destroy the roots! Heaven’s Secret Holders must not be spared!”

The image paused abruptly at this point. Pei Yue groaned, collapsing to her knees, veins bulging on her forehead as if someone were carving words into her mind with a chisel.

“Stop!” Yu Xiaotang reached out to touch the shield but was thrown back by the rebound force.

“Can’t stop,” Shen Yan’s voice tightened. “She can’t unlock this seal herself. We need external force to pull the memory to its end.”

Luo Li bit her lip, her tail flicking as a silver bell chimed softly. An ancient melody of the Demon Clan flowed out slowly, neither sorrowful nor joyful, yet like a hand gently cradling those frantically flashing images.

Seizing the opportunity, Shen Yan swiftly switched to multi-thread mode, storing each frame of the image separately into the buffer. The code ran rapidly, and the images finally became coherent—

The fire burned for three days and three nights, yet only that medicine cabinet, protected by a layer of faint golden runes, remained completely intact.

When the cabinet door opened, only a little girl remained, clutching a jade pendant, crying until she lost her voice.

“That was me…” Pei Yue murmured. “After that day, I never saw another living person again.”

The air grew heavy in an instant.

Shen Yan shut down the terminal and walked over step by step, looking at her through the protective shield: “So you are the last survivor.”

Pei Yue said nothing, only raising her hand to wipe her face. The tears had long since dried, leaving only two red streaks.

Then, her skin began to glow.

It wasn’t the kind of light from Spiritual Power overflowing—it was something deeper. Golden threads, as if alive, emerged from her meridians, weaving beneath her skin, coiling around her limbs and bones. The plants on the ground first withered, then grew wildly, Vines breaking through the soil and climbing over half the Altar in an instant.

“Bloodline awakening?” Ye Zhao’s sword tip trembled. “The thing inside her has awakened.”

“Not a ‘thing’,” Shen Yan stared at the Terminal. “It’s the Heaven’s Secret Holder’s origin, triggered by Memory to Initiate an autonomous activation Program.”

Before his words faded, Pei Yue suddenly raised her head, her eyes shimmering with golden light. A massive surge of Spiritual Power exploded outward, and the Protective Shield cracked in half with a sharp sound.

Shen Yan rushed forward and grabbed her wrist.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I can help you.”

The phone Screen instantly flooded with green Code, lines of Commands scrolling rapidly: 【Source Code synchronization Protocol Initiated】【Frequency calibrating】【Establishing bidirectional pathway】

He used his own Spiritual Root as a Relay Station, forcibly drawing part of Pei Yue’s rampaging power, then re-Encoding it and sending it back.

It was like forcibly merging two Systems—one misstep and both would explode.

Blood seeped from his temples, his glasses fogged up, yet he kept muttering, “We can stabilize this… we can stabilize this… as long as there’s no Bug…”

The Code transformed into phantom chains, wrapping around their arms, forming a closed loop. Pei Yue’s breathing gradually steadied, the golden light no longer scattering wildly but flowing along a specific path, as if finding its way home.

Ye Zhao watched coldly, then suddenly raised her hand. Sword Qi carved a circle on the ground, forming a tranquil Sword Intent domain around the four of them. The Sword Intent hung like a curtain, isolating distracting thoughts.

Yu Xiaotang wasn’t idle either, slapping three Spirit Talismans onto Pei Yue’s back with a “pat, pat, pat,” chanting under her breath, “Suppress it, contain it, don’t blow up my brother’s Server!”

Luo Li leaned against the steps, her silver bell softly chiming, Demon Power flowing like silk as she continuously channeled the soothing melody. She glanced at Shen Yan and whispered, “You always like to take on hot potatoes.”

“If I don’t take it,” Shen Yan gasped, “who will?”

His grip didn’t loosen at all, the Code Flow running faster and faster until finally, a Notice popped up on the Terminal: 【Synchronization complete, Bloodline link successfully established】

Pei Yue opened her eyes, the golden light receding. She seemed drained of strength, weakly sliding downward.

Shen Yan caught her in his arms, his back slamming against the stone platform, nearly performing a Programmer-style fainting act on the spot.

“Thanks,” Pei Yue leaned against his shoulder, her voice as light as a dream. “So… I’m not just evidence of someone else’s existence.”

“You’re not evidence,” Shen Yan coughed twice. “You’re a living person, and my teammate.”

Yu Xiaotang leaned over and poked her cheek. “Should we start calling you ‘senior sister’ now? Heaven’s Secret Holder Bloodline sounds impressive!”

Pei Yue tugged at the corner of her mouth but said nothing.

Shen Yan helped her sit cross-legged on the ground, then sat down himself, his phone still resting on his lap, the Interface still open. He glanced at the time—the entire operation had taken forty-seven minutes, more exhausting than the last time he Refactored the laws of heaven and earth.

“Your body just endured an awakening—don’t push yourself,” Ye Zhao walked over and handed her a Pill. “Hold it in your mouth to calm your inner fire.”

Pei Yue took it, her fingertips accidentally brushing against the back of Ye Zhao’s hand. The two exchanged a glance for a second before simultaneously looking away.

Luo Li yawned. “What’s next? Digging up ancestral graves?”

“No.” Shen Yan stared at the terminal. “Next… we wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“For its reaction.”

As soon as the words fell, the phone suddenly vibrated.

It wasn’t a notification tone—it was a physical vibration, as if something inside was about to break free from its shell.

Shen Yan looked down. The code on the screen had vanished, replaced by a line of slowly emerging text:

【Detected dual Bloodline Resonance: Mother’s blood as the Key, child’s soul as the guide. Abyss Gate countdown restarted.】

His heart tightened.

This wasn’t a system warning.

This was… some kind of response.

Pei Yue slowly raised her head. A golden Talisman Pattern appeared on her forehead, resembling a flower, yet also like the outline of a key.

She reached up to touch it, her fingertips trembling slightly.

Shen Yan grasped her hand and found its temperature rising, as if he were holding a freshly minted chip.

“Do you feel it?” he asked.

Pei Yue nodded. “There’s a feeling… of being called.”

Yu Xiaotang suddenly pointed at the medicine pouch. “The crystal is gone!”

Everyone froze.

The crystal that had been glowing just moments ago had now completely merged into the bottom of the medicine pouch, leaving only a faint golden trace.

Shen Yan stared at the mark and suddenly realized something.

He spoke slowly, “It’s not that it disappeared.”

“It’s that it has recognized its master.”

The air solidified for a moment.

Ye Zhao’s sword hilt trembled, Sword Qi still lingering.

Luo Li’s tail stiffened, her silver bell silent.

Yu Xiaotang’s mouth fell open, not even noticing the candied hawthorn that had dropped to the ground.

Shen Yan took a deep breath, raised the phone before his eyes, and read the terminal’s final line of notice word by word:

“The Abyss Gate can only be opened by the Bloodline holder.”

He looked at Pei Yue. “You are the Key.”

Pei Yue froze, her fingers unconsciously moving to her chest.

There, a rhythmic pulsation was coming, like another heart, just now awakening.

(End of Chapter)