A while later, when a servant came to call to prepare supper for him, she was sent away with a strange list, to gather an odd assortment of things from both the kitchen and the armoury.

Wine vinegar and citrus fruit?

Were these all the Young Master sought to eat?

She had also retrieved for him the required number of blood clotting pills for the armoury. Although she still couldn’t figure out what he wanted with so many of the cheap medicine.

The Ren family armoury was well stocked and well provisioned.

Each squad had their weapons regularly maintained and a supply pouch of medicines and pills that could potentially save their lives. Be it blood clotting pills, energy boosting tablets or even low grade healing dan.

The price of a single dan, even a low grade one, was several hundred more than the cost of a handful of pills.

It just went to show how much the family heads valued these troops.

Apart from these things, another maid had also brought back a small bowl of fresh chicken’s blood and a small tool used for repairing the saddles of the horses.

They set their wares down, bowed and left as Ren Yao stood pleasantly observing the gathered treasures.

He lay his purchases next to the new pile of ingredients.

Three seven-inch-long whalebones.

A single jade bottle filled with one-hundred-and-eight black pearl beads.

The whale bones were a generous half inch wide at the base but tapered off to a smooth, well-rounded point. There was also a couple of empty bowls, a pitcher of clear water and a small dagger sitting neatly on the table and just waiting.

He closed the doors to his room, had the guards made aware that no one was to disturb him and bunched several candles closer together sufficiently illuminating the table.

What he was about to do would require his full concentration due to his limited cultivation.

Firstly, the wine vinegar was poured into one of the small empty bowls and mixed with the freshly squeezed juices of the gathered fruits before he submerged one of the whalebones in it.

While small gas bubbles were beginning to form on its surface, as the weak acid ate through the bone, he set about carving a small array onto another whalebone using the awl. The process was slow as he methodically scratched the symbols and characters onto the narrow surface.

Once the foundations of the array were in place he dunked the whole thing into the bowl of chicken blood.

When he took it out a few minutes later, the whole array was now stained red.

Smiling with satisfaction, he gave a sharp inhale followed by a deep exhale and focused intently on the now blood marked bone between his fingers as he channelled in some of his limited inner energy.

The bone gave a slight wiggle, but nothing more.

Now he could indeed be pleased with himself. The motion it had shown at the very least made it clear that the array he had inscribed upon it had worked as intended.

He turned back to the first bowl and clasping it in both hands began to stimulate the contents with his internal energy. It hissed and sizzled slightly more than before, but nothing else changed.

Two hours passed before the fizzing died down and he was able to remove the acid washed bone from the bowl.

He topped it up with more wine vinegar and fruit juice before dropping in the blood marked bone. This whole process was trial and error, which was why he had purchased three of the better whalebones; he had the space to make a couple of mistakes.

While the other bone began to fizz, he held up the first to study it.

In the candlelight, the once rigid whalebone dangled like a wet noodle between his fingers. He could bend it into an S shape or twist it into almost a full knot. That was how flexible it had become.

It was something he had picked up in his long lifetime before.

Sometimes Puppetry Immortals, Immortal Refiners or just those who liked to tinker with gizmos and gadgets would make just this little gimmick to make coil springs or other flexible parts. What the Venomous Butterfly had in store was something far cruder.

He patted the noodle bone dry with a beautiful silk handkerchief and lay it flat on the table top.

Once more taking up the awl and carving the same array formation as before onto it, although this time he was a lot more careful and cautious.

After several tense minutes, he could finally dip the painstakingly carved array into the warm chicken blood. When it came out not only were the symbols dyed a deeper red but also the whole bone had an almost blood red sheen to it.

Went he directed his internal energy into it this time the blood aura deepened, and a remarkable change occurred to the once flaccid bone.

As soon as the energy circulated through the array inscription, the whole bone jumped up as straight as possible, sturdy and rigid. It went from wet noodle to pillar of heaven in an instant.

Ren Yao gave it a small flick with his nail, and it sounded off with the hum one might expect from a sword.

Pleased with the results of his first test, he turned his expectations back to the weak acid bowl, stimulating it once more with his internal energy, which was by now sorely depleted.

With a vigorous froth and a puff of vinegar-scented smoke, the contents of the bowl dissolved completely.

Looking at the white sludge in the bottom of the bowl, the Young Lord Ren raised one sword like eyebrow quizzically. It seems that altering things with formation arrays already inscribed upon them is not an easy or straightforward process regardless of how low equality the material is.

Of the two trial runs, one had succeeded while the other had failed.

From just this, he could already conclude the better method.

If he failed after this than he knew the best way to prepare the third whalebone. Of course, if he failed after this stage than it’d be equally as tricky to attempt it again.

There was by this time a need to rest and refocus.

To get himself into the optimal condition.

He half closed his eyes, stilled his mind and focused on the flickering candle on the table in front of him.

Normally to do this, one would circulate their Qi through the prescribed routine of their cultivation method; however, Ren Yao did not have one of those in this life. True he knew a few within his soul, but he wasn’t practising any of them.

He was still aiming to utilise this treasure body to its utmost.

As such, he could only cycle his thin wisp of internal energy within his dantian until he felt he was ready.

Eventually, his limited cultivation base recovered, and his mind was once more firm and resolute. He took up a handful of blood clotting pills and swallowed them down in one fierce gulp. As the healing effect was spreading out from his stomach was preparing for the most challenging part.

He could almost feel his blood thickening.

With silk trousers round his ankles, he hoisted the remains of his manhood onto the cold table surface. The flaccid thing lay there limply as he poured the bottle of beads into an empty bowl and picked up the small knife.

Originally this knife belonged to the original Ren Yao as a limited means of self-protection.

It was a blade some women from high-class families would carry secreted on their persons so that in times of real despair, they could end their lives rather than being disgraced.

With a deep, steady breath, he lifted his manhood and made one long slice from root to tip.

Not too deep but not a shallow incision either.

When he was satisfied that the pills he took were doing their job, with virtually no blood came from the wound, he slowly inserted the whalebone array into the wound. It settled several layers deep and was orientated correctly along the length of it. Thick at the base, thin at the tip.

The pain was unimaginably excruciating.

The next step would be even worse.

From the many sexual dual training arts that he had studied before, he had come across an interesting one regarding body modification. With it, the partner could be stimulated further and thus increase the rate of joint cultivation.

108 black pearl beads.

When he looked down at the bowl full of them, he could see his reflection in their shiny surfaces looking back at him. Were those faces gloating, mocking him or was that a look of pity? He couldn’t quite tell.

With the knife firmly in his right hand, he steadily made the first incision by the tip.

The left hand reached across and fished out the first small bead before gently pushing it into the newly made wound.

One hundred seven more to go.