At Zhai Xing Lou, Gong Huiyu was sitting quietly inside Gong Qiang's gold cultivation room. He looked on as Gong Qiang slowly disemboweled a youth with a scalpel. The thick smell of blood permeated the room, a smell which Gong Huiyu had already grown numb to.
"Hui Yu, human life is so fragile. You can take his life just by carving open his heart. This child is just ten years old and has a relatively high aptitude. If he survived today and would be properly groomed in the future, he should be a fit candidate for mental cultivation." Gong Qiang removed the brain and placed it into a jar of liquid. He looked at the remnants of that completely disemboweled body with amused eyes.
