490: Chapter 470: The Truth 490: Chapter 470: The Truth It was a fable everyone living there knew well.
A rich man had a treasure that helped him beco wealthy.
He grew old and had three sons but could not decide who should inherit his property and treasure.
So, he told his children,
“I am old and near death.
This treasure can create a potion that can heal all ailnts.
However, when making the dicine, a cup of poisonous tea also cos into being, and the two are indistinguishable.”
The old man took out two cups of tea.
One slled fragrant, and the other reeked horribly.
“My children, if soone is willing to test the tea for , and they survive, they will be my heir.
If not, their child, my grandchild, will inherit everything.”
The eldest hesitated, he had his own business that, while not as successful as his father, was doing well.
So, he declined.
The second also hesitated; he had many beautiful wives and decent property to live by.
Only the third son felt pity for his ailing father and steadfastly said,
“Father, I will do it.
I do not need a fortune.
I only hope that if I die, my child and brothers will be well cared for.”
The third son knew that today soone must try the tea.
Otherwise, none of them would leave the room.
So, for the sake of his family, the third son drank the tea….
“The story goes like this; it usually has a happy ending.
In fact, neither tea was poisonous; it was just the old man’s test.
The property ultimately went to the third son, and the family lived happily ever after…
what a lie.
Reality and fairytales differ greatly; they are almost never the sa.”
When Lu Ping’an learned the truth of this twisted tale, he felt bewildered.
First of all, there were three types of teas in three cups: one poisonous, one that could heal simple ailnts, and one that, depending on the “Brewing Tea” ingredients, granted valuable benefits.
The most common benefit was to enhance vitality…
in other words, to prolong life.
It was easy to see the healing tea, but the other two types were indistinguishable, and the old rich man wanted the third kind, the life-prolonging one.
The real version of the story was that the eldest son beca the brewing material…
the teacup was famous for replenishing whatever it ca into contact with, and the wealthy father took advantage of his traitorous eldest son.
The second and third sons were forced to try the tea; if one died, there would be another left to make more tea.
As a result, the two brothers made a plan…
the second son drank the healing tea but pretended it was poisonous and fell to the ground frothing at the mouth.
Just as the third son was about to drink his cup, the father snatched it away from him.
The old rich man eagerly drank the poison tea and died.
Is that the end of the story?
Well, there is an aftermath: the third son killed his feigning death brother with the teapot, wrote the fairytale, and spread it far and wide.
“Our family descends from that third son, so only our family records contain the true version of this story…” The lord was very candid and seemingly unbothered.
“To be honest, I think our ancestors, especially the third son, had a wicked sense of humor.
They even had a bard make up a story.
Oh, and the life-extending effects were limited – the old rich man could have only lived one or two years longer.”
As the old Lord said this, he laughed.
After all, their family treasure was already gone, and there was no point in hiding the truth… At this ti, there was no need to care too much about reputation.
He would rather share this family history; holding it in all those years was suffocating.
Though the story is quite subtle, the function of the teapot is clear.
It can process ingredients into “poison tea,” “dicine tea (with enhancent effects),” or “healing tea (curing injury)”…
Even just the last healing effect is very powerful.
Treatnt materials are always scarce, but one need not worry about drinking the wrong tea.
Ironically, it was later discovered through testing that the teas made from “people” and “animals” are not very different…
If the old rich man hadn’t used his children to brew tea, none of this would have happened.
The teapot is just a tool for transformation; the “materials” themselves’ grade and properties are important, but “who” is not.
There is no difference between humans and animals when it cos to ordinary creatures.
And now, the cruel scene is repeated.
Shepherd Silverman Amu Fen looked at the dark tea in front of him, his breath chaotic and unable to control his emotions.
He could not comprehend the wickedness of using the “living” to brew tea and forcing him to drink it!
Evil Bone, with a full-faced smile, seed indifferent…
“Bang!”
With the tal ruler’s fall, the shepherd’s beautiful skin cracked even further.
“Why don’t you drink…?
Is it not to your taste?”
With that, he snapped his fingers.
Two Beastn walked over, one holding Amu Fen down, while the other ripped his mouth open and forced the tea down his throat.
“Ahhhhhh!”
Eerie echoes filled the room.
The tragic survivor fell into despair and fear, while so of the robbers covered their ears and fell, as extra-sensitive hearing isn’t always a blessing.
Only Evil Bone watched with interest, seeing everything unfold.
He was waiting, anticipating whether Amu Fen would live or die.
“Heh, lucky.”
A few minutes passed, and the numb Shepherd Silverman was still alive, staring blankly at everything around, feeling more fearful and uneasy when he saw the devilish grin.
“You…
you were supposed to ask …” Amu Fen was puzzled.
Weren’t these greedy robbers trying to force information out of him?
If you know, the poison tea does have a peculiarity: if it is made by the “sa kind of people” and consud, they will undoubtedly die.
“It doesn’t matter now; with this treasure, I’ve already made a profit.
Of course, if you are willing to speak up, you can buy your life back.”
Evil Bone laughed carelessly, as if it didn’t matter at all.
Poor Amu Fen had never experienced anything like this before; the constant deaths of his companions had already shattered his defenses, and the life-or-death choice made him value his hard-won life all the more.
“I am the last Shepherd Silverman of the Grey-Blue Tribe.
I cannot die…”
Evil Bone laughed, not understanding his opponent’s expression but knowing that submission was only a matter of ti… Evil Bone may not comprehend the shepherd, but he understood human nature.
Greedy robbers would not gamble their “treasure” on a life-or-death bet.
What Amu Fen drank might not have been the dicine tea…
It was just tea made from another unfortunate victim, not a fellow shepherd!
The genuine tea made from Amu Fen was in Evil Bone’s cup, and whether it was dicine tea or poison tea, it didn’t matter.
Evil Bone didn’t like gambling; he wanted everything for himself!
“During this ti, the Red Sand Thief has lost many n, as well as their weapons, equipnt, and another treasure…
Perhaps, I can try my luck once more.”
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