The Corpse Clothes of the Green Bag [Complete] - 2

Chapter Fifteen.

Huang Qiansui, along with Meng Zhuqi and Master Wu Daoming, rose to greet him at the door, for they should treat the divine physician with utmost respect.

Han Sheng was brought in.

Although Huang Qiansui had heard beforehand that the divine physician was a young man, he was still quite surprised to see the young man standing before him. Could such a greenhorn in his early twenties really be a divine physician?

As he was observing and pondering, he suddenly heard his brother-in-law, Meng Zhuqi, burst into laughter behind him: "Ha, I thought it was some kind of divine physician, but it's just you, you good-for-nothing."

Wu Daoming smiled without saying a word.

Huang Qiansui turned around and sternly questioned, "What's going on?"

Meng Zhuqi leaned closer and said, "This good-for-nothing is no divine physician at all. He's the son of that old man in the back room. Brother-in-law, think about it, if the father's medical skills are so mediocre, what kind of promising son can he raise?" "

Are you sure?" Huang Qiansui asked unconvinced, knowing that his uncle was a complete fool.

Meng Zhuqi didn't answer, but instead walked up to Han Sheng, shaking his head and chuckling, "By the way, your name is Han Sheng, right? We met in front of Linggu Cave a few days ago. Have you finally come to your senses and come to tell me the origin of that earthen egg?"

"I told you, I bought it at the market," Han Sheng replied.

"You little rascal, just as stubborn as your old man," Meng Zhuqi said irritably.

"Is my old man here?" Han Sheng sensed something was amiss.

"Hey, young man, shall we talk for a bit?" Hong Kong Master Wu Daoming stepped forward and interjected. He gave Meng Zhuqi a wink, then pulled Han Sheng to the southeast corner of the courtyard, under an osmanthus tree.

In August, the osmanthus blossoms filled the air with their fragrance. Wu Daoming took a deep breath of the delicate scent and said in a low voice, "Young man, judging from your strong occipital bone, prominent brow ridge, and broad eyes, you are destined for greatness. However, you will need the help of a noble person; otherwise, you will remain a lowly person, destined for a life of semi-solitude."

Han Sheng, impatient with his scholarly manner, asked, "What exactly are you trying to say?"

"I want to say that although they don't believe you are a miracle doctor, I do, and I can help you. I am the noble person you are destined to meet," Wu Daoming said softly.

Han Sheng said, "Alright, then let me ask you, is my father here?"

"Yes," Wu Daoming answered affirmatively.

"Why is he here?" Han Sheng asked.

"They arrested him in Nanshan Village the night before last. Someone reported that he was treating some 'landlords, rich peasants, counter-revolutionaries, bad elements, and rightists'," Wu Daoming said, gesturing with his chin.

"Where is he now? I need to see him," Han Sheng said anxiously.

“If you tell me the truth, I will save you and your son,” Wu Daoming said, his voice still low.

“I know, you just want to trick me into revealing the location of the buried earthworm,” Han Sheng saw through his trick.

“No, I don’t want to know the location of the earthworm’s burial site,” Wu Daoming said seriously.

Han Sheng looked at him suspiciously.

Wu Daoming smiled slightly and said, “I just want to know if the person I’m helping is worthy of my help, if he is a kind and honest person, if he is a healer who is willing to help the poor.”

Thinking of his father’s honest and ordinary life, and of Lan’er and her mother’s helpless plight, Han Sheng resolutely said, “I am a healer.”

“So, you cured the old woman at the market?” Wu Daoming asked admiringly.

“Yes, I cured her,” Han Sheng admitted.

“You are the person I want to help,” the Hong Kong master said.

Wu Daoming turned and walked towards Huang Qiansui and Meng Zhuqi, saying loudly, "I believe that, from a humanitarian perspective, the father and son should be allowed to meet." He then gave a wink.

Huang Qiansui nodded in understanding, then waved his hand.

Dr. Zhu was trapped in a small room, subjected to Meng Zhuqi's relentless interrogation, his son's fate unknown. In just two days, blisters appeared on his lips, he couldn't sleep at night, and his hair turned noticeably whiter.

The sound of a lock being opened came from outside, followed by the door opening.

"Dad!" Hansheng rushed in.

"Hansheng..." Dr. Zhu suddenly saw his son, whom he had longed for day and night, and tears welled up in his eyes. Father and son embraced and wept.

"What's wrong?" Dr. Zhu gently stroked Hansheng's splinted leg, his heart aching.

Hansheng recounted the day he went to gather herbs, falling from Dazhang Mountain into a valley, and being rescued by Wu Chushanren, but he omitted the story of the old bat and the lightning-struck horse-riding cloth.

"Let me see, what medicine are you using? Why didn't you go to the hospital for a cast?" Dr. Zhu scolded, then began to untie the bandages, gently rolling up his trouser leg to examine the injury.

"Huh, what kind of medicine are you applying? It smells so foul! It's only been two days, how come the bone seems to have healed already, and the inflammation is almost completely gone? That's strange." The father seemed unable to believe his eyes.

"Dad, I..." Han Sheng didn't know how to begin.

"Mr. Zhu, you've suffered. I've spoken with Director Huang, and now I'll take you home. You're free." Wu Daoming walked in excitedly, lowering his voice and speaking mysteriously.

Dr. Zhu looked at the master with suspicion, remaining silent.

"He said he wants to help us," Han Sheng said, continuing to bandage his injured leg.

The father and son supported each other as they walked out of the deep courtyard. The jeep was waiting at the gate. Wu Daoming opened the car door, helped them into the car, then sat in the front seat himself, waved his hand, and the jeep started moving.

Inside the old house, Huang Qianhui said with a gloomy face, "Now it's up to the master."

The jeep sped through Wuyuan County. Inside, Wu Daoming pointed to the pink-walled, blue-tiled houses peeking through the green trees and exclaimed, "These Hui-style buildings blend so cleverly with nature; it's truly the most beautiful countryside in the inland. You absolutely can't see this in Lingnan."

The market below the road had already closed, the ground littered with fruit peels, pits, and scraps of paper. Two people stood alone in the empty market, silently enduring the chaos.

It was Lan'er and her mother.

"Stop the car!" Hansheng called out.

The jeep stopped, a cloud of dust rising from its rear.

"What's wrong?" Wu Daoming asked, turning around.

Hansheng opened the car door and walked unsteadily towards the mother and daughter.

Faint tears of blood silently streamed down Lan'er's cheeks... Wu Daoming and Dr. Zhu exchanged bewildered glances, watching as Han Sheng and a ragged mother and daughter approached.

When they drew near, everyone in the car was shocked. The girl's appearance was truly hideous; her face was covered in freckles like fly droppings, she had a flat nose, a large mouth, prominent brow bones, deep-set eyes, and beady, rat-like eyes.

"Let them get in the car too," Han Sheng said calmly to Wu Daoming.

"Han Sheng, do you know them?" the father asked from the car window.

"They are my patients," Han Sheng said, opening the car door.

Wu Daoming suddenly realized: "Oh, this old woman is the 'ALS patient' you cured? Great, let's all get in the car."

Lan'er and her daughter squeezed into the car, and the jeep started moving again, heading straight for Nanshan Village.

On the way home, Dr. Zhu was filled with questions, but in the end she decided to keep quiet and wait until they got home before questioning Han Sheng in detail.

Finally back at his doorstep, the big yellow dog, Benben, saw him from afar and immediately darted out of the thatched hut, whimpering.

As the homeowner, Dr. Zhu could only invite his guest, Wu Daoming, inside for tea, which Wu Daoming readily accepted and stepped inside.

Lan'er and her daughter stood timidly in the yard, and Dr. Zhu quickly invited them in as well. Urged on by Han Sheng, the mother and daughter cautiously stepped inside.

"Congratulations, Mr. Zhu! Your family has produced a miracle doctor; it's all thanks to your excellent upbringing," Wu Daoming said, bowing.

"A miracle doctor?" Dr. Zhu asked, bewildered.

"Haha, Mr. Zhu, don't hide it. Your son cured this old woman's ALS, also known as Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS), one of the world's five major incurable diseases according to Western medicine. Isn't that a miracle doctor?" Wu Daoming said with a meaningful smile.

"Are you talking about the 'ice man' in Traditional Chinese Medicine? That's incurable," Dr. Zhu said in surprise.

“That’s right, but your son cured her, and Grandma is right here,” Wu Daoming said.

“Hansheng? You’re joking. He doesn’t know anything about medicine,” Dr. Zhu said confidently.

“Uncle Zhu, he really did cure my mother,” Lan’er argued, her voice hoarse and unpleasant.

Dr. Zhu looked at Hansheng.

Hansheng nodded, acknowledging it.

“You? Tell me what ingredients he gave her?” his father asked, looking at Hansheng.

“Silkworm as the medicine, and human hair as the guide,” Hansheng blurted out.

Wu Daoming, a Hong Kong feng shui master sitting nearby drinking tea, was startled.

“You broke the earthen eggs?” Wu Daoming asked in surprise.

Hansheng nodded.

Dr. Zhu glanced at Master Wu, just as Wu Daoming noticed. Wu quickly said, “Mr. Zhu, I have immersed myself in the study of geomancy for decades, hoping to use my knowledge to benefit the people. My trip north to the Central Plains is to find a successor. I see your son is exceptionally gifted and intelligent, and I wish to take him as my disciple, imparting all my knowledge to him, and even paying him 200 yuan a month for living expenses. What do you think, sir?”

Dr. Zhu was completely unprepared and speechless.

Looking at this man, his features were striking, his eyes reaching his temples, and his voice clear and melodious—he certainly possessed the air of a sage. His learning must be extremely profound. However, his face was rugged, his nose like an orange peel, his eyebrows drooping like brooms, and his gaze strange; he was clearly not a benevolent person. Although he had always wanted Hansheng to learn some Huang-Lao philosophy, it was better to be cautious. Thinking of this, he politely declined, saying, "Master Wu, you are overestimating my son's abilities by offering him a disciple. My son and I have always depended on each other, and we are used to a simple life. We are content to be ordinary barefoot doctors in this village. We appreciate your kindness, but if you have nothing else to say, please return."

Wu Daoming smiled gently and said, "Mr. Zhu, there's no need to be so polite. You can reconsider. Are you willing to let your child's life be wasted in the countryside? If he can come with me to Hong Kong to see the world, I guarantee he will make a name for himself in a few years. I will come again." With that, he bowed and took his leave, leaving with a flourish.

On the way back to the county town, Wu Daoming leaned back in the back seat of the jeep, thinking that it was unbelievable that the silkworms in the blue clay eggs could cure ALS. However, there were very few Tai Chi halos in the world, and even fewer clay eggs. It seemed impossible to develop an industry from them. Han Sheng is just a child. How could he know such a strange method?

Was it his father? No, the disbelief on Dr. Zhu's face when he heard about his son treating patients was definitely not feigned. It seems that Dr. Zhu himself doesn't know anything about it either; that's for sure.

In that case, Han Sheng is no ordinary child. There must be a master hidden behind him, someone whose existence even his father doesn't know about.

I must meet that elusive master! Wu Daoming's nerves inexplicably tightened.

Chapter Sixteen

"So, it was the silkworms inside the Taiji Halo Acupoint's earthen eggs that cured the old lady's terminal illness? After finding the Taiji Halo, we can dig out all those earthen eggs. In the West, how many US dollars could one egg sell for?" Huang Qianhui asked after listening to Master Wu's report.

"The price varies depending on the patient. I think 5 million US dollars per egg is still a market," Wu Daoming replied.

Huang Qiansui gasped, a sudden warmth spreading through his chest. He quickly asked, "How many earth eggs are there beneath the Taiji halo?"

Wu Daoming thought for a moment and replied, "Not many, probably only a dozen or so. They're divided into five types: metal, wood, water, fire, and earth. The one that cured the old woman was the wood silkworm inside the blue wood egg."

Meng Zhuqi chimed in, "The other types of eggs might be even more useful."

"These five-element eggs have absorbed the essence of the sun and moon since time immemorial, embodying the yang of day and the yin of night. They should possess considerable energy, but their effects are unclear. No classic texts on the I Ching have ever recorded anything about them," Wu Daoming explained.

The master behind Han Sheng certainly knew, but there was no need to tell Director Huang and his foolish uncle.

"We can take the silkworms from the earth eggs and raise and breed them artificially. Wouldn't that turn one into ten, ten into a hundred?" Meng Zhuqi suddenly had a brilliant idea and exclaimed loudly.

"Fool," Wu Daoming cursed inwardly, but patiently explained aloud, "The earthen egg has lost the essence of the sun and moon; its energy is no longer present."

Huang Qiansui asked Wu Daoming, "Master Wu, we must find the Taiji Halo and get the earthen egg as soon as possible. I've already inquired; the old proletarian revolutionary in Beijing is getting increasingly ill. His whole body is now frozen and shrunken. If we delay any longer, it might be too late."

"I understand. Then arrange for me to stay in Nanshan Village. I'll try to find out as soon as possible which family is reliable," Wu Daoming said.

Huang Qiansui glanced at his uncle; the director of the Revolutionary Committee of Nanshan Town should know the situation below.

"Zhu Biao, the team leader of Nanshan Village, is a party member and politically reliable. He'll stay at his house; I'll arrange it," Meng Zhuqi said.

"Okay, it's settled then," Huang Qiansui stood up.

Wu Daoming and Meng Zhuqi knew the conversation was over.

Nanshan Village thatched hut.

Lan'er recounted her and her mother's unfortunate past to Dr. Zhu, while her mother was already weeping uncontrollably.

Alas, the plight of this mother and daughter was truly pitiful. Dr. Zhu had practiced medicine his entire life and seen countless unfortunate families, but he had never encountered a woman as unfortunate as He Xiang.

"Did your father disappear afterward?" Dr. Zhu asked Lan'er with a sigh.

Lan'er shook her head and replied, "No, the world is so vast, I don't know where to look."

The suffering of the world! I, a humble doctor, pride myself on healing the sick, but besides treating common ailments, how can I truly heal the suffering of the world? At this point, Dr. Zhu couldn't help but sigh deeply.

"Han Sheng, did you really cure Lan'er's mother's 'ice man syndrome'?" Dr. Zhu asked his son seriously.

"Yes, Father," Han Sheng replied timidly, looking at his father.

Dr. Zhu looked at Lan'er's mother, then at Han Sheng. How could this be? Although his good-for-nothing son wasn't stupid, he was absolutely incapable of curing this incurable disease that had baffled generations of renowned traditional Chinese medicine doctors.

"Hansheng, tell me the truth, is the 'wooden silkworm' you just mentioned the silkworm inside those blue wooden eggs? I know what 'blood residue' is; it's human hair, also known as 'human dregs'," Dr. Zhu said sternly.

Han Sheng nodded and said softly, "Father, I broke the wooden egg and fed the silkworms inside to Auntie."

Doctor Zhu's expression softened, and he slowly asked, "Where did you get this strange method?"

"Father, I..." Han Sheng remembered the letter's admonition: "Those who have mastered this scripture should practice medicine to help the world, but must never reveal its origin. Nor should they tell their parents or children. Remember this, do not fail the trust placed in you." He was speechless, unsure how to respond.

"Han Sheng!" his father said sternly.

Han Sheng knew his father's temper; he knew he wouldn't get away with it if he didn't tell, but telling him would betray the trust of the ancient tomb's owner. He was truly caught in a dilemma.

“Father, I fell off Mount Dazhang, and a forest ranger named ‘Wu Chu Shanren’ saved me. He lives in seclusion in Wolong Valley and is proficient in astronomy, geography, medicine, and feng shui. He’s a very learned man, and I’ve learned a lot from him.” Han Sheng had no choice but to give a vague answer, attributing everything to the mountain man. Upon closer examination, he hadn’t explicitly stated that the mountain man had given him the prescription; it was up to his father’s understanding.

“Wu Chu Shanren?” Doctor Zhu thought for a moment, seemingly having never heard of the name before.

“Lan’er, you and your mother have nowhere to go, so stay here for now. Han Sheng, tidy up the west room for them. You and I will sleep in the east room. I’ll go to Li Lao Er’s house in the village to get some pork,” his father instructed.

“Wu Chu Shanren…” his father muttered as he went out the door.

Lan'er hadn't yet mentioned Han Sheng's plan to treat her 'blood-weeping syndrome' when her father walked away. Han Sheng quickly told Lan'er not to tell him beforehand, and Lan'er nodded in agreement, saying she would follow Han Sheng's arrangements.

Han Sheng still had a question in his mind. After hearing Lan'er's background, he vaguely sensed a connection between her and Wu Chushanren. He decided to take Lan'er to see the man when he had time. If the man was Lan'er's long-lost father, how wonderful it would be if their family could be reunited.

Everyone tidied up the west room together. The diligent Lan'er fetched water and cleaned the entire room, inside and out, east and west, until it was spotless.

This was the first time outsiders had stayed at the house, so Father specially bought two catties of meat and a catty of liquor. Lan'er and Hansheng went to the field to pick some vegetables, and then they cooked together. The usually quiet house suddenly became lively, and even the big yellow dog, Benben, was excitedly running around, but his eyes were always fixed on the piece of pork.

While tending the fire, Hansheng quietly told Lan'er that the treatment could be carried out at 1:00 AM that night, and the patient would be cured by 9:00 PM the next day. Lan'er was overjoyed and thanked him repeatedly.

At dinner, Father drank a few more cups, washing away the resentment from being imprisoned for two days. In the end, he drank too much, and Hansheng helped Father back to his room to sleep.

Hansheng lay in bed without closing his eyes, counting the chimes of the old-fashioned wall clock on his fingers, afraid of missing the time.

When the clock struck midnight, he quietly got up, listened to Father's snoring, and tiptoed out of the east room.

Looking out, the courtyard was bathed in cool moonlight, all was quiet, except for the occasional croaking of frogs from the distant pond.

Pushing open the west wing, Lan'er and her mother sat fully clothed on the bed, waiting for the arrival of the divine physician at the hour of Chou (1-3 AM).

Without a word, Han Sheng beckoned Lan'er to come out into the courtyard. He took the hoe he had placed behind the door earlier that evening and went to the old camphor tree at the edge of the field to begin digging. Soon, he had dug a pit about two feet deep. He then brought a bucket of water, poured it into the pit, and had Lan'er use a ladle to continuously scoop up about a meter of water, then pour it back in, repeating this process endlessly.

About half an hour passed, and the hour of Chou arrived. Han Sheng said it was ready.

"This is 'Midnight Earth Water'," he said. Han Sheng carefully scooped some of the remaining muddy water from the bottom of the pit and led Lan'er into the moonlight.

He took out the hard-won "lightning-struck riding cloth," laid it flat on the ground, and then took out the packet of herbal balm from his pocket. He mixed the balm with the ground water and applied it evenly to the riding cloth.

"Close your eyes," he instructed.

Lan'er hesitated for a moment, then obediently closed her eyes. Han Sheng wrapped the riding cloth around her face, then wrapped it again with the prepared strips of cloth, finally tying a knot.

"Alright, you can untie it at 9 PM tomorrow." Han Sheng was satisfied and breathed a sigh of relief.

He helped Lan'er to the west room, then left the room and quietly returned to the east room, where his father was still fast asleep. He gently took off his clothes, got into bed, yawned, and soon fell asleep.

Benben poked his head out of the doghouse, witnessed everything, shook his head, and continued to doze off.

Chapter Seventeen.

Zhu Biao's house was located under the old locust tree at the north end of the village. It consisted of three thatched houses on a hillside. A framed portrait hung under the eaves of the red-lacquered gate, depicting Mao Zedong standing atop Tiananmen Square, wearing a grass-green military uniform and inspecting the troops. In front of the house was a small, square, green pond, flanked by lush bamboo groves.

"Hmm, this house is quite unlucky," Wu Daoming thought to himself, standing alone under the old locust tree with his hands behind his back.

He had been personally escorted by Meng Zhuqi from Nanshan Town at dusk. Zhu Biao was cooking in the kitchen at the time, and was quite flattered by the arrival of the town's Revolutionary Committee director. He readily agreed to the town's arrangement for an elderly writer from Guangdong who was visiting Wuyuan's countryside to stay at his house, promising to take good care of him and provide excellent service.

Zhu Biao lived alone, still a bachelor in his thirties. According to the villagers, he devoted himself entirely to his work, consistently earning the title of outstanding Party member, as well as a model member and youth shock brigade leader. Logically, such an excellent young man shouldn't have trouble finding a partner, but he himself stated that Communist Party members should prioritize production over personal life. Director Meng Zhuqi had told Wu Daoming all this on the way to Nanshan Village. "

Hmph," Wu Daoming thought, "this house, with its red door reflecting a square pond and uneven ground behind it, is a 'blood basin reflecting in a mirror'—a very inauspicious layout. Living in this house will either lead to disability or premature death, and the family line will be cut off."

Zhu Biao told him that his parents were both disabled and had died two years prior, and his only brother had died during the Cultural Revolution.

Sure enough, Wu Daoming pondered, looking up at the old locust tree. This tree was probably hundreds of years old, with gnarled branches and withered bark. "Locust tree," he thought, "is associated with ghosts in wood; the older it gets, the more likely it is to be afflicted by unclean things."

However, how could such a haunted house withstand Wu Daoming's wrath? He smiled slightly.

"I heard that your Nanshan used to produce five-colored earthen eggs. Does Captain Zhu know about this?" Wu Daoming asked tentatively at dinner, his eyes piercing.

Zhu Biao was bewildered: "Five-colored earthen eggs? What kind of strange thing is that?"

Wu Daoming smiled and said, "I've only heard about it. You know, writers are always very curious."

The town had given instructions to meet the needs of this Lingnan writer, with expenses reimbursed. Therefore, dinner included wine and a stewed chicken—the big red-feathered rooster from Old Ma's house in the village, which crowed the loudest every morning.

Zhu Biao took a big gulp of wine, his eyes reddening. He said mysteriously to the great writer, "Old Wu, you are a scholar of great learning. Do you know, if a pregnant woman suddenly dies, does the child in her womb die with her, or does it die after a while?"

"Die after a while?" Wu Daoming didn't understand what he meant.

“I mean, the baby in the womb might not want to die in its mother’s womb before it’s even born. Could it harbor resentment?” Zhu Biao explained.

“That’s natural. Under certain conditions and at certain times, babies can become resentful and angry, and cause trouble. Of course, the baby must be a certain number of months along,” Wu Daoming said logically.

“How many months?” Zhu Biao asked nervously.

“The older the child, the stronger the resentment; the most ferocious is the one about to be born.” Wu Daoming looked at the village team leader with surprise, noticing a fleeting fear in his eyes.

The two ate in silence, neither speaking.

Wu Daoming sensed that this man harbored something extremely difficult to speak of, buried deep within his heart. Should he help him?

While pondering this, he carefully observed the man's face: a sunken forehead, a lack of definition on his left cheekbone, a nose that protruded beyond his eyebrows, indicating a short lifespan; prominent cheekbones that threatened his children; and a hoarse voice—this man was truly of low character. It was strange that such a man had walls covered in certificates and honors.

But then he thought, this kind of person was extremely easy to use. If he could resolve the man's doubts, he would surely revere him like a sage, wholeheartedly serving him. Finally, Wu Daoming decided to help him resolve his inner conflict and take him under his wing.

Outside, it was already dark. The village still lacked electricity, and small rapeseed oil lamps were lit in the farmers' homes, plunging the mountain forest into darkness.

“The resentment of a stillborn child is hard to dispel, especially its resentment towards its biological father.” Wu Daoming, observing Zhu Biao’s expression, spoke first, testing the waters.

Zhu Biao’s body trembled slightly, a detail that did not escape Wu Daoming’s hawk-like gaze.

“Why?” Zhu Biao eagerly swallowed half a cup of wine.

Wu Daoming smiled slightly and said, “It resents the failure to protect him and his mother, especially since his biological father had the ability to do so but failed.”

Zhu Biao’s face changed slightly, his brows furrowed, his eyes fixed, and his eyes reddened.

“What will happen to him?” he asked cautiously.

“He will become a ghost fetus,” Wu Daoming replied.

“A ghost fetus?” Zhu Biao’s body trembled again, his trembling hand grabbing the wine cup and drinking it all in one gulp.

Wu Daoming, seeing this clearly, said, "Everything in this world has a solution. If Captain Zhu has any troubles in his heart, why not tell me? I am quite knowledgeable in numerology and can help you resolve your doubts."

After a while, Zhu Biao seemed to have finally made up his mind. He pressed his palm on the table and said, "Alright, please help me, Elder Wu. You are from out of town, so please keep my secret."

Wu Daoming smiled without speaking, listening intently.

"I once had a woman who came from a very good family background. In the old society, she was considered to have suffered greatly. She was also one of the most beautiful women in Nanshan Town. Unfortunately, her husband was a good-for-nothing, missing two testicles. Later, she became pregnant with my child. As her belly grew, it aroused suspicion from her husband's family. They subjected her to all sorts of humiliation and torture, beating her until she was covered in bruises and her legs were broken. But she remained silent, resolutely refusing to reveal whose child it was. Finally, unable to endure it any longer, she hanged herself." As Zhu Biao spoke, the veins on his clenched fists bulged.

"Outrageous! Isn't this husband's family treating human life like dirt?" Wu Daoming exclaimed indignantly.

"Exactly, but her family has no one to rely on. It's pitiful that she was hastily buried in a mass grave without even a coffin." Zhu Biao's face flushed red.

"But why didn't you stand up for her?" Wu Daoming said disdainfully.

Zhu Biao buried his head on the table and sobbed.

"Is her husband's family very powerful?" Wu Daoming asked him.

Zhu Biao nodded and let out a long sigh.

What a despicable person, Wu Daoming cursed inwardly, but said aloud, "How big was the fetus in that woman's womb when she died?"

"Eight or nine months," Zhu Biao sobbed.

"Hmm, so it's already formed a ghost fetus. It will keep searching for a host until its yin energy dissipates after forty-nine days," Wu Daoming analyzed.

"You mean, this child will possess her, maybe he's not dead yet?" Zhu Biao stared wide-eyed at Wu Daoming and asked.

"Possibly, but he must find a suitable host within forty-nine days," Wu Daoming told him.

"What is a host?" Zhu Biao asked cautiously.

"A pregnant woman," Wu Daoming replied.

Zhu Biao suddenly fell silent, as if remembering something… "What's the woman's name?" Wu Daoming asked.

"Shen Caihua," Zhu Biao murmured.

That night, a cold, waning moon hung quietly in the sky.

Zhu Biao led Wu Daoming to a desolate graveyard. The moonlight was like water, and the mountains and fields were cool and refreshing. Pushing aside the weeds, they saw Shen Caihua's lonely mound of earth. A black crow perched on the grave, silently watching the two intruders who had arrived in the dead of night.

Wu Daoming looked around, secretly alarmed. This was an extremely ominous place.

He felt a chilling wind blowing, and listening to the mournful sound carried on the wind, it seemed to be a constant lament. To the west, the hillock was rugged and barren, completely bare under the moonlight—a veritable "white tiger carrying a corpse."

Wu Daoming looked down at the stone slab inscribed with the three characters "Shen Caihua," nodded, and said, "Shen Caihua's grievances are hard to resolve, and to be reborn in this ominous place is truly unfortunate. Qi flows underground, and things grow on the ground. This grave is covered with lush green grass, unlike the surrounding plants. It seems your resentment has gradually dissipated. Could it be that the fetus in your womb has been reborn? 'White Tiger Carrying Corpse' means the journey is not far off."

"Old Wu, how is it?" Zhu Biao asked softly.

Wu Daoming smiled slightly and said, "The ghost child has already been saved. Do you still want to find his whereabouts?"

Upon hearing this, Zhu Biao knelt down with a thud, saying, "Old Wu, please show me the way to find the whereabouts of my and Caihua's child. I'm willing to be your slave."

Wu Daoming nodded slightly and said calmly, "Get up. This is a desolate wilderness. If any pregnant women pass by, they must live nearby. You can inquire around. If any pregnant woman has given birth within the last forty-nine days, it must be your child."

"Then can we recognize each other?" Zhu Biao asked anxiously.

"When something contrary to common sense happens, it means they recognize each other," Wu Daoming said.

"Old Wu, do you know if my child is a boy or a girl?" Zhu Biao pressed on.

"Son," Wu Daoming replied.

Chapter Eighteen

In the early morning, Han Sheng seemed to sense something in his sleep and groggily opened his eyes. His father was sitting by his bedside, silently watching him.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Han Sheng yawned.

"You're hiding something from me, aren't you?" his father asked softly.

Han Sheng was speechless for a moment, unsure how to answer.

"Han Sheng, tell your old man, the remedy for the Ice Man's Disease using the Green Wood Silkworm has a different origin, doesn't it? There's absolutely no way anyone in the world could come up with such a miraculous remedy. And if I remember correctly, you met Granny He Xiang when we went to the market last time. The day after we got back, you had your accident, and that's when you met that hermit. Han Sheng, you've never been able to lie." His father's eyes were filled with affection.

Han Sheng's heart warmed, and tears welled up in his eyes.

"Father..." Han Sheng blurted out.

"Shh," the father put his index finger to his lips and said, "No need to say anything. I know you must have something difficult to say, otherwise you wouldn't keep it from your old man. Even the prescription you used to treat your leg injury and the medicine wrapped around the face of the young girl outside are the same. Hansheng, your old man is actually happy for you. The descendants of the Zhu family have finally not let down their ancestors."

"Father!" Hansheng buried his face in his father's lap with tears in his eyes.

"Good child, stand tall. The way of a doctor lies in virtue. Child, remember, regardless of wealth or status, everyone should be treated equally. In the future, you don't have to be confined to this small mountain village. Go out into the world. There are many helpless and poor people like Hexiang and Lan'er waiting for you to heal them." The father also shed tears.

“Father,” Hansheng looked up, “Don’t worry, I will. From this day forward, I am determined to practice medicine and become a good barefoot doctor like you.”

“Alas, the world is a dangerous place,” his father sighed.

Lan’er and her mother had prepared breakfast early in the kitchen—sweet potato porridge, its aroma filling the air. Hansheng saw Lan’er, her eyes bandaged and barely able to see, still helping out, and his heart warmed. This was the feeling of home. Remembering how he lost his mother at a young age, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow.

His leg injury had mostly healed. The *Qing Nang Jing* truly lived up to its reputation. From now on, he would truly practice medicine and save lives. At this moment, he experienced the joy of healing and saved lives, and he understood the sorrow of Hua Tuo’s unfulfilled ambition. “Rest assured, great doctor, I will continue to fulfill your last wish, to become a generation of barefoot doctors, wandering the world.”

"Young man, you're up early!" Standing outside the bamboo fence was Wu Daoming, a Hong Kong feng shui master, dressed in a blue-gray suit and a patterned tie, a broad smile on his face.

The father stepped out of the house and said casually, "Mr. Wu, what brings you to Nanshan Village so early?"

Wu Daoming chuckled and walked into the yard, carrying a pig's leg.

"I've moved to Nanshan Village now, so we'll be neighbors for the time being. To be honest, I genuinely like this young man, Hansheng. A gem needs polishing to become a masterpiece; with a little guidance, he'll surely achieve great things."

"What's this…" The father pointed to the pig's leg Wu Daoming was carrying.

"Hansheng has a leg injury. Traditional Chinese medicine believes in 'like cures like,' so eating some pig's leg will help him heal quickly. It's just a small token of my appreciation; I hope you'll accept it." Wu Daoming said frankly.

This pig's leg probably weighs twenty or thirty pounds. Dr. Zhu knew perfectly well that this nourishing food would be beneficial to Han Sheng's leg injury, but he was short of money and couldn't afford it. Besides, this man was dishonest; it was best to keep his distance.

"I can't accept something for nothing. Please take it back," Dr. Zhu said.

"What do you mean 'no merit'? Han Sheng cured the old woman without considering her poverty, and gave up his beloved earthen eggs without being stingy with their treasure. This benevolent medical skill and ethics have shown him since childhood, demonstrating his compassionate spirit. Today, I'm just expressing my gratitude. What reward is a mere pig's leg? Dr. Zhu, traveling the world, is so pedantic?" Wu Daoming said righteously. Dr.

Zhu was speechless for a moment, and could only say, "Mr. Wu, please."

Han Sheng happily accepted the pig's leg. After all, in these times, people didn't have much oil in their stomachs, and it would be good to nourish Lan'er's mother's weak body.

The tea leaves were coarse, looking meager in the large, rough porcelain bowl. Wu Daoming smiled slightly, picked it up, and drank.

“Excellent! This way of drinking tea is nowhere to be found in Lingnan. We're used to Gongfu tea, chatting and discussing all sorts of things. Dr. Zhu has lived in northern Jiangxi for a long time; he should travel around more, especially Hansheng. More experience in the world would be very beneficial for him,” Wu Daoming said eloquently. Dr.

Zhu nodded, wondering what Master Wu's true intentions were.

“This place is located in the Huangshan range, with beautiful mountains and clear waters, and is a place of outstanding people. Dr. Zhu has heard the saying, ‘After seeing the Five Sacred Mountains, one need not see other mountains; after seeing Huangshan, one need not see the Five Sacred Mountains.’ I see that this place has the potential to gather and store energy, giving rise to all things, with the earth rising like a dragon. Does Dr. Zhu agree with my view?” Wu Daoming said.

“I am just an ordinary village doctor and don't understand these things like feng shui. Besides, in our area, feng shui is still considered a superstition,” Dr. Zhu replied.

Wu Daoming smiled, took another sip of tea, and was about to speak when he noticed Lan'er's head wrapped in bandages. He paused, then, after a moment's thought, understood. He deliberately asked, "Eh, why is this little girl's head all wrapped up?"

Dr. Zhu had no choice but to tell the truth: "She has a strange illness that has caused her appearance to change. She is currently undergoing treatment."

"I dare say, this girl was originally a dignified and beautiful young woman," Wu Daoming said meaningfully.

Wu Daoming's words reminded Dr. Zhu that Han Sheng had asked him about "hemoptysis" earlier. So, Han Sheng already knew about Lan'er's illness and had begun treating her. That boy was quite kind. This mother and daughter were all alone. Han Sheng was already in his early twenties, but he wondered what the girl looked like before she fell ill. Ah, what was he thinking? Dr. Zhu couldn't help but smile inwardly.

"Why are you laughing, Dr. Zhu?" Wu Daoming looked at him, puzzled.

"Oh, it's nothing. Mr. Wu, you haven't had breakfast yet, have you? If you don't mind, would you please have some simple porridge?" Dr. Zhu asked.

"Then I won't stand on ceremony." Wu Daoming said, and started to eat, scooping up a bowl of porridge and drinking it himself.

"Why did you come to the countryside, Mr. Wu? The living conditions here are so harsh." Dr. Zhu asked.

"It's the middle of the month of the Rabbit year now, and the end of the year is not far off. I'm here waiting to see a celestial spectacle." Wu Daoming said casually.

"What celestial spectacle?" Dr. Zhu asked in surprise.

"A halo of five-colored light." Wu Daoming said while drinking his porridge.

"A halo of five-colored light?" Dr. Zhu's heart skipped a beat.

"It's the Taiji halo, which appears every year at the beginning of the Year of the Dragon, when five-colored light shines from a cave, shooting straight towards the Dipper and the Ox. It only happens once every twelve years, a rare sight indeed." Wu Daoming put down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wu Daoming noticed Dr. Zhu's furrowed brows and silence, and he secretly rejoiced. The old man had taken the bait.

The Tai Chi halo actually glows? He had no idea, and his ancestors' teachings had never mentioned it. Was it really true? Dr. Zhu was utterly perplexed.

Wu Daoming, observing this, added, "Director Huang and Director Meng will have the honor of coming to Nanshan to witness this unparalleled spectacle."

"Hmm," Dr. Zhu replied absentmindedly.

Well, the offer had been made; it was time to call it a day. Wu Daoming stood up and said, "This porridge is quite delicious. I'll take my leave now. You might consider my suggestion: let Hansheng study Yi Jing with me; he'll soon achieve something."

Dr. Zhu saw him to the door, and Wu Daoming strode away.

Were these people really just here to see the so-called five-colored aurora? Their goal was to find the Tai Chi halo, and what would they do after finding it?

Dr. Zhu was sullen.

Chapter Nineteen

. As the sun set, in front of a farmhouse in a bamboo grove, a peasant woman sat under the eaves, breastfeeding her baby. Looking at her chubby, adorable child, she felt a sweet warmth in her heart. Her husband would be returning from the fields soon; rice was already cooking in the large iron pot on the stove, the aroma of freshly harvested rice filling the air.

The sound of footsteps rustling on dry bamboo leaves came from the bamboo grove, presumably her husband's return.

A man emerged from the grove, broad-shouldered and robust—it was Zhu Biao. After inquiring all day, he had finally found this place.

The peasant woman looked at him with some surprise; this was a secluded spot, rarely frequented by strangers.

"Sister-in-law, I'd like some water," Zhu Biao said, having already noticed the baby in the woman's arms.

The woman went inside and fetched a ladle of cool water, handing it to the traveler.

"Sister-in-law, this child is so robust! Is it a boy?" Zhu Biao asked, drinking the water while examining the baby.

Hearing someone praise her child, the peasant woman was naturally overjoyed. In the countryside, parents all hope that their newborns will grow up to be strong and healthy.

"How old is he?" Zhu Biao asked.

"Not even a month old yet," the peasant woman replied.

"He really is big and strong. Let me see, look at this little face..." Zhu Biao said, stepping forward to examine the child more closely.

The baby was chubby and fair-skinned, with thick eyebrows and large, bright, dark eyes that stared intently at Zhu Biao. Zhu Biao felt a pang of sadness and almost burst into tears. Suddenly, the child giggled, a sharp and piercing laugh. At the same time, the child's eyes were fixed on Zhu Biao, not blinking an inch. The two black pupils were more than twice their normal size, pushing the whites of the eyes to the corners, almost filling the entire eye sockets with black irises… Zhu Biao was startled, then overjoyed. Old Wu from Guangdong had told him that anything contrary to common sense was a sign of recognition. This child's strange laugh must be his son. "

Caihua, this is our son!" The tears he had been holding back finally fell.

"Hey, cousin, what's wrong?" the peasant woman asked, looking at Zhu Biao in surprise.

Zhu Biao realized he had lost his composure and quickly said, "Ah, I have three rooms in my house, but I don't have a child. Seeing this baby is so beautiful just now, I felt a little sad thinking about my own family. Sigh, I wish he could be my godson."

He had considered knocking the peasant woman unconscious and taking the child away, but firstly, he was afraid someone would die, and secondly, he couldn't breastfeed the child, so he couldn't force him.

Hearing Zhu Biao's words, the peasant woman just smiled warily and held the baby tightly in her arms.

Footsteps came from the bamboo forest again; the peasant woman's husband was returning from working in the fields.

The man of the house was startled to see Zhu Biao, his eyes glancing at his wife.

"This old man was just passing by and wanted a drink of water," the peasant woman told her husband.

"Oh, then please come in," the man of the house said, as mountain people are generally hospitable.

"No, I'm leaving now. I'm Zhu Biao, the team leader of Nanshan Village. Everyone knows me," Zhu Biao said.

Upon hearing that he was from Nanshan Village, the man of the house immediately became enthusiastic, saying, "Oh, you're from Nanshan Village! A few days ago, we were so grateful to Dr. Zhu from your village; otherwise, we probably wouldn't have survived. How is Dr. Zhu?"

It turned out Dr. Zhu had come to deliver the baby. It seemed he would have to be more courteous to him in the future, since the child was his son.

"Dr. Zhu is quite good. He lives at the east end of the village, and I live under the old locust tree in the north, in a three-room thatched house. Come visit when you have time. I really like this little baby; I'd like to adopt him as my godson, is that alright?" Zhu Biao said sincerely.

"This…" the man of the house hesitated.

Zhu Biao said, "I'm the production team leader, an outstanding Communist Party member, a five-good commune member for many consecutive years, a youth shock brigade member, and also a militia platoon leader…"

"Tomorrow, our whole family plans to visit Dr. Zhu in Nanshan Village to express our gratitude. We'll talk about it then," the man of the house said cautiously.

Zhu Biao understood immediately; they would definitely want to know more about him. He quickly went back to do some research beforehand, especially consulting Old Wu, a very knowledgeable man.

"What's your name, cousin?" Zhu Biao asked.

"My surname is Shen, just call me Tianhu," the man introduced himself.

"Good, Tianhu, you must come to my house tomorrow after you visit Dr. Zhu," Zhu Biao earnestly invited.

"Alright," Shen Tianhu agreed.

Zhu Biao took his leave, and after a few steps, he looked back. The baby gave him a strange smile.

The sun sets quickly in the mountains; Zhu Biao had just left the bamboo forest when it was already dark. Ahead lay a desolate graveyard, the cawing of crows echoing through the cemetery.

Zhu Biao stood before the lonely, desolate grave, his eyes welling up with tears again.

"Caihua, I've finally found our son. He's fair-skinned and strong, and he even smiles at me." "Caihua, you can rest in peace now. Don't worry, I'll bring him back to my side soon. I'll raise him to adulthood, and I'll never remarry. Only when I'm with you do I feel true happiness. I can't live without you, so I'm burying you back at my home, under the old locust tree. Are you happy? That way, we can be together day and night, and see each other every day, along with our child."

Zhu Biao let out a hoarse sigh... A soft sigh echoed through the desolate graveyard, a mournful and desolate sound, like a woman's heart-wrenching sigh of reluctance to let go... Zhu Biao looked back every few steps, gradually disappearing into the distance.

"Caw..." The crow was still on the grave.

The crescent moon hung like a hook, and from afar, under the old locust tree, the great writer, Old Wu, stood quietly in the moonlight, his hands behind his back.

Hearing footsteps, Old Wu slowly turned around, smiled gently at Zhu Biao, and said, "Judging from your footsteps, they are hurried but not chaotic, and your breath is like a gentle breeze. You must have found your son."

"Old Wu, you are truly a divine being! Sure enough, he's in a house not far from Caihua's cemetery. The child even looks a lot like me," Zhu Biao rambled on.

Wu Daoming smiled without saying a word.

"Old Wu, I'm going to bring Caihua home tonight. I don't want her to be all alone there. Is that alright?" Zhu Biao asked impatiently.

Wu Daoming thought for a moment and sighed, "Very well. You've been through thick and thin together. Considering your deep affection, I'll guide you. Remember, dig the grave at midnight, seal the corpse's mouth and nose with mud, and carry it on your back. No matter what happens along the way, do not answer. Understand?"

"Understood," Zhu Biao readily agreed.

"Good, you can go now. Dig a new grave three zhang and three zhang to the right of the thatched house," Wu Daoming instructed.

"Then please go back to your room and rest, Mr. Wu. I'll go and cook for you right away," Zhu Biao said.

"No need. I don't want to eat anything tonight. I'm going to give your house a thorough cleaning," Wu Daoming said with a cold smile.

"A thorough cleaning? Is my house that dirty?" Zhu Biao asked, puzzled.

"Of course," Wu Daoming said with a sinister smile.

Chapter Twenty

The moonlight was cold and clear. A crescent moon was reflected in the square pond. A few withered leaves fell from the old locust tree. It was late autumn.

Wu Daoming slowly walked around the pond, watching the mirror-like surface of the water. From time to time, the croaking of frogs could be heard from the water plants by the pond.

This Zhu Biao has the face of a despicable person. Shen Caihua is a woman of strong character. She would rather die than reveal who the father of her unborn child is. If it were a man of courage, he would definitely stand up for her. What a pity. Considering that this kid did not forget his loyalty after Shen Caihua's death and went to steal her body, I will clean up that thing for him. It's also a way of doing something for Shen Caihua.

Wu Daoming waited quietly, glancing at the night sky. It was nearly 9 PM, the time when yin energy began to emerge. He figured the thing should be coming out soon. He had arrived at this place yesterday evening and immediately recognized the "blood basin reflecting the mirror" layout. Seeing the Zhu family's red-lacquered gate and the portrait of their leader in military uniform on it, he had already made up his mind.

"Old Wu, I've dug Caihua's grave. I'm going to fetch her now," Zhu Biao said, running over, sweating profusely.

"Remember what I said?" Wu Daoming instructed.

"Yes," Zhu Biao replied, picking up his hoe and leaving.

Observing the blood basin-like pond, he noticed the extremely heavy yin energy. Beside the pond stood a centuries-old locust tree, which he had already knocked on; the tree was hollow in the middle, indicating a passage connecting it to the pond, allowing the thing to climb from the bottom to the top and absorb yin energy. He turned his head and looked again at the portrait of the leader in military uniform hanging on the red-lacquered door. That was an object brimming with powerful energy. At noon, the yin energy in the pond was roughly equal to the yang energy at that time. Now, the powerful energy emanating from the portrait radiated into the pond, and that thing would surely escape through the passage into the ancient locust tree to avoid the evil energy.

This house was fortunate to have that portrait of the leader; otherwise, Zhu Biao would have already followed in his parents' footsteps.

At this moment, a bubble rose on the calm water, followed by a series of small bubbles, forming a straight line heading towards the old locust tree.

Wu Daoming stood by the pond, silently watching. "Hmm, this thing has finally made its move.

" He stared at the moving bubbles in the water, hummed in agreement, and then counted his steps along the pond's edge, finally arriving at the old locust tree.

The night was deep and quiet, the moonlight hazy. He pressed his ear against the tree trunk to listen. After a while, he heard a rustling sound coming from within the trunk, and could feel something crawling upwards.

Wu Daoming nodded, retreated to the pond's edge, and gazed down at the water's surface: a crescent moon, a few wisps of cloud, and a pool of clear water.

After a while, a small golden head appeared in the reflection of the crescent moon in the water, turning around, then stretching out its long mouth, inhaling and exhaling towards the moon.

Wu Daoming thought, "You've finally come out, the Golden-Headed Turtle. "

The ancient texts record that "the turtle is the largest of all beetles, hence the character includes the radical 'yuan,' meaning 'large.'" This creature, unassuming in appearance, with wart-like protrusions on its neck, is also known as the "Greasy Turtle." It has nearly disappeared from the Central Plains in modern times; Wu Daoming had only seen one once, over thirty years ago, on the banks of the Oujiang River in southeastern Zhejiang.

The Golden-Headed Turtle feeds on yin energy; the stone statues carrying steles in ancient imperial tombs

are depicted as such. This creature has an extremely long lifespan, exceeding a thousand years, and possesses immense strength. It can exhale yin energy from ten paces away, killing silently. Ancient feng shui masters would avoid the Golden-Headed Turtle at all costs, as recorded in ancient texts.

Its appearance here is truly rare, likely due to the "Blood Pond Reflecting in a Mirror" formation combined with the old locust tree, or perhaps it came seeking the Tai Chi symbol.

Wu Daoming chuckled coldly. Others may not be able to subdue you, but I can. With my Yin-Yang Cone, a being of sixty years old, injuring you is no problem at all.

With a thought, he reached under his chin and plucked a beard hair—this was the yang cone. Then, he reached into his groin and, enduring the pain, pulled out a pubic hair—this was the yin cone. He then twisted the two hairs together, spat on them, and straightened them; the yin-yang cone was now complete.

The yin-yang cone is an extremely powerful hidden weapon in the world of feng shui, a sacred object for warding off evil. Only a virgin can wield it. Wu Daoming was a virgin for sixty years, so the energy of this cone was naturally extraordinary.

He held the awl in his palm, squinted, aimed at the golden-headed turtle, and was about to blow it out... Under the waning moon, a group of small heads appeared on the treetop, lined up, necks outstretched, inhaling and exhaling towards the night sky. It turned out this female golden-headed turtle had offspring... Wu Daoming was shocked. One yin-yang awl was clearly not enough; the counterattack of those baby turtles would be disastrous. Helpless, he had to reach in again, enduring the excruciating pain, tossing off a tuft of pubic hair and more than ten whiskers from his chin, tears almost streaming down his face, to create more than ten yin-yang awls.

Wu Daoming aimed and blew again. In the moonlight, more than ten dark shadows shot towards the top of the old locust tree like arrows... Several "plop plop plop" sounds were heard as a series of dark shadows fell from the top of the old locust tree, landing with a "thud" on the ground. Wu Daoming walked closer and examined them closely.

A gigantic, tortoise-like golden-headed turtle slowly rolled over on the ground. Its carapace was dark brown with pale yellow patches, its plastron was yellow, and its scutes had symmetrically arranged red markings. Its head was golden yellow, and its neck was covered with golden warts, each bearing a yin-yang cone embedded about an inch deep. Its limbs had webbed toes, and its eyes were large, with tears seemingly welling up in their eyelids. Scattered around it were seven or eight smaller golden-headed turtles, all sprawled on their backs, each with a yin-yang cone embedded in its neck.

The leading female golden-headed turtle raised its head, looking at Wu Daoming with a pleading expression in its eyes, one or two tears seeping from its eyelids.

This golden-headed turtle seemed to be begging for mercy; the yin-yang cones had sealed its Ren meridian. Like tortoises, turtles often retract their heads into their plastrons, and over time, their Ren meridians open on their own. This is why they are said to live long lives, far exceeding the lifespan of other creatures in nature. At this moment, the Yin-Yang Cone's energy had blocked its Ren meridian, effectively crippling its martial arts. The Golden-Headed Turtles were now like ordinary turtles and tortoises, unable to harm anyone.

"Sigh, go," Wu Daoming waved his hand, watching as the mother Golden-Headed Turtle led her chicks, stumbling towards the depths of the South Mountain. "

It's just a few lost feathers," Wu Daoming thought, forgetting the pain of plucking the feathers, and slowly strolled back into the thatched hut.

He didn't notice that one of the chicks on the treetop had fallen into a tree hole and quietly crawled back to the pond.

Chapter Twenty-One:

On the desolate graveyard, the waning moon shone obliquely, a cold wind blew gently, and the weeds rustled.

Zhu Biao was in high spirits. Tonight, he would retrieve Caihua's body, and she would be with him for the rest of his life. Day or night, he could sit beside her whenever he missed her. He had heard that there were crystal coffins in foreign countries, where the dead lay as if alive, but unfortunately, he couldn't afford one. He could only bury Caihua next to the thatched hut. Sigh… he let out another long, hoarse sigh.

Judging that midnight had arrived, Zhu Biao impatiently picked up his hoe . The hoe struck the ground with a resounding clang, echoing through the graveyard, exceptionally clear in the silent night.

Soon, he had dug a large pit. Thinking it was almost done, Zhu Biao threw down the hoe, squatted down, and began digging with his hands, unwilling to damage Caihua's body with the hoe. He

carefully cleared away the loose soil and removed the weeds, finally revealing a burlap sack, its opening tied shut with a wire.

Under the moonlight, the burlap sack was bulging. Zhu Biao reached out and touched it, feeling the flesh of a human body. Instantly, his blood rushed to his head, and his heart pounded. With trembling hands, he untied the wire, opened the sack, and a pale woman's face was revealed. Her eyes were tightly closed, her eyelashes long, her nose slightly upturned, her lips bloodless, and a rope was around her neck.

"Caihua..." Seeing the woman he had dreamed of, Zhu Biao's longing surged like a flood. He rushed forward, kissing her cold face repeatedly, and couldn't help but burst into tears.

"Caw..." The cawing of a crow interrupted Zhu Biao's sobs. He looked up, remembering Old Wu's words, lest he be late.

Looking at Caihua's fair face and her pitiful, sleeping appearance, Zhu Biao couldn't bear to smear mud on her face. He thought, "At worst, Caihua will bite me a couple of times; I'd be willing."

So, instead of following Old Wu's repeated instructions to gag the corpse, he carried her directly on his back, without even picking up the hoe, and headed back the way he came.

The moonlight in the mountains was pale and hazy, and the corpse on his back was icy cold. Caihua's head rested on Zhu Biao's neck, her long hair hanging down her cheeks, occasionally blowing up and obscuring her eyes. He would blow on it to clear away the earthy-smelling strands.

Carrying his beloved woman, Zhu Biao felt a surge of pride and satisfaction, his legs feeling weak. He was willing to keep walking like this until his old age.

He hadn't encountered anyone along the way, nor had any voices called out to him. It seemed Old Wu was being overly cautious.

After crossing a small hill, Nanshan Village could be seen in the distance. He descended the slope with incredible speed, practically running the entire way.

A series of "whoosh, whoosh" sounds came from behind him, as if his breath was still on his neck. Zhu Biao was startled. Old Wu had indeed spoken. No, he couldn't turn around or answer now. Anyway, he was almost home. He gritted his teeth, put more effort into his legs, and practically flew.

Actually, it was the pregnant Shen Caihua being jolted and squeezed by Zhu Biao's running back. Her chest and abdomen were expanding and contracting as she exhaled and inhaled air, the strange sound produced by the air passing through her throat and vocal cords.

The sound grew louder behind Zhu Biao as he ran, and he was already terrified.

Ahead were his family's three thatched houses. Finally, he was home. He slowed his pace, and then Shen Caihua bit down hard on the back of his neck... "Ah..." A scream rang out as Shen Caihua's two rows of white teeth sank deep into the flesh of Zhu Biao's neck, and blood seeped from between them.

Wu Daoming emerged from the house, sneering, "I already told you to gag the corpse, but you still wouldn't listen. Now you know what's what."

Zhu Biao, his face contorted with grief, pleaded with tears in his eyes.

"Come in," Wu Daoming said, letting Zhu Biao, carrying Shen Caihua, enter the thatched hut first. He then circled Shen Caihua, examining her closely.

"Hmm, this woman didn't commit suicide; she was murdered," Wu Daoming said solemnly.

"What did you say! Caihua was murdered?" Zhu Biao asked urgently, ignoring the pain in his neck.

"That's right, she was strangled from behind. Alas, poor woman," Wu Daoming sighed.

"You, how did you know?" Zhu Biao asked, still carrying the corpse.

Wu Daoming explained, "Look, the rope marks on a hanged person go diagonally upwards, while the bloody marks on Shen Caihua's neck go directly backwards. This means she was forcibly strangled from behind. No wonder her resentment is so strong and hasn't dissipated for so long. Who could have done this? Two lives lost, one unborn."

"Meng Zhuqi! He killed Caihua..." Zhu Biao cried out in anguish. "Director Meng?" Wu Daoming was startled. "It was him. Shen Caihua married his son who had no testicles." Zhu Biao

was furious. Oh, I see. Wu Daoming began to consider things. Meng Zhuqi was the director of Nanshan Town, a local tyrant. His brother-in-law, Huang Qiansui, was the official in Wuyuan County. He himself had been invited by them, so they should have been on the same side. However, these people had murdered a pregnant woman out of spite. Although he had already sensed from their appearance and bone structure that they were not good people when they first met, he had come for money. So, he would just have to wait and see. "Captain Zhu, when you dug out the body, did you do anything that would make Shen Caihua remember you or not? This would cause her lingering resentment to resurface, making her bite you fiercely. What is she trying to tell you?" Wu Daoming analyzed. "I just kissed her..." Zhu Biao stammered softly. "Hmm, no wonder. You awakened and activated the remaining energy within her. This woman is indeed pitiful. The man she loved dared not stand up for her in her time of need, so she resented him; the child in her womb was her flesh and blood, so she loved him; she was innocently strangled by her husband's family, so she hated him. These three emotions are intertwined, so it's only natural that she bit you," Wu Daoming said indignantly. "How can we get Caihua to let go?" Zhu Biao asked, his voice trembling with tears. Wu Daoming looked at him, sighed, and said, "Tell her your future plans. If she's satisfied, she'll let go." Zhu Biao immediately began to speak: "Caihua, I've brought you back to our home from the desolate graveyard. Are you satisfied?" Shen Caihua still bit him tightly and refused to let go. “Caihua, I will bring our son back, and our family will be reunited, okay?” Zhu Biao said again. Shen Caihua still didn’t budge. Cold sweat broke out on Zhu Biao’s forehead. He said, “Caihua, do you want me to avenge you?” Shen Caihua finally loosened her grip, her body limp as she slid off Zhu Biao’s back and fell to the ground. Wu Daoming shook his head and sighed, “Truly a fierce woman.” Zhu Biao, without even bandaging the wound on his neck, picked up Shen Caihua’s body, silently walked out of the house, and went to the newly dug grave. He gently placed her beside the mound of earth. After thinking for a moment, he returned to the thatched hut, opened a long wooden cabinet in his room, pulled out all the clothes, bedding, and other items, carried the empty cabinet out to the west side of the room, and placed the cabinet in the grave. Time was of the essence; there was no time to prepare a coffin. He would have to make do with his own wooden cabinet. This was his mother’s dowry back then, he murmured to Caihua. "Don't leave a grave mound, lest it bring misfortune," Wu Daoming kindly reminded him from the doorway. At that moment, a light mist hung in the night sky, the moon and stars were few, and the late autumn air was chilling. Zhu Biao added soil shovel by shovel, his heart filled with unbearable grief and indignation. Revenge? How could he possibly avenge himself? After burying Caihua, following Wu's instructions, no grave mound was left. Zhu Biao knew in his heart that if a new grave appeared beside his house, it would inevitably arouse suspicion. He lit three incense sticks, knelt on the ground, and solemnly kowtowed three times, silently vowing to Shen Caihua: I will definitely avenge you, but I must find a suitable method. "You desire revenge?" Wu Daoming suddenly asked from behind. "Yes, please help me, Elder Wu," Zhu Biao said resolutely. Wu Daoming pondered for a moment, then slowly said, "It is possible." "Are you really willing to help me?" Zhu Biao asked earnestly. "Well, but you'll have to do something for me first," Wu Daoming said. "Alright, whatever you need, Elder Wu, I, Zhu Biao, will do it even if it costs me my life," Zhu Biao promised confidently. Wu Daoming thought to himself, "That's about right, this kid can be used by me now." "You'll keep an eye on Dr. Zhu's family, especially Zhu Hansheng, and see if they make any unusual moves," Wu Daoming instructed. "Why are you interested in them?" Zhu Biao asked, puzzled. "Don't ask why again, understand?" Wu Daoming's face darkened. "Understood," Zhu Biao quickly agreed. "They might go to the Nanshan area in the next couple of days. You need to keep an eye on them, father and son, and make sure they don't discover you. Then come back and report to me," Wu Daoming added. "Don't worry, Elder Wu, this is easy to do," Zhu Biao said confidently. Chapter Twenty-Two: The hour of Hai (9-11 PM) finally arrived at Wolong Valley. Han Sheng carefully untied the bandages around Lan'er's head, finally lifting the riding cloth... In an instant, Han Sheng was stunned. The girl before him was so beautiful: thick eyebrows, large eyes, a round nose, a soft tip, firm, full lips, a square forehead and jaw, and a healthy complexion with a rosy glow... "So you're this beautiful," Han Sheng murmured. His father stood to the side, smiling with satisfaction. This girl was not only a typical rural beauty, but also possessed a face that brought good fortune to her husband. Lan'er took the mirror her mother handed her, and looking at her reflection, tears streamed down her face. "It's me, it really is me! I've finally returned to my former self!" Lan'er said excitedly, even her voice had changed, no longer hoarse, but resonant like a bronze bell. "Brother Han Sheng, I will keep my promise and marry you," Lan'er said, tears welling in her eyes. Han Sheng blushed, looking at his father helplessly. Dr. Zhu glanced at Lan'er's mother, and seeing her nod in agreement, he understood. He smiled and said, "It's all fate. But you're both still young. You can get engaged first, and then get married in a couple of years when Hansheng has achieved success in his career." Hansheng, though somewhat shy, was delighted by Lan'er's pretty appearance and blushed, saying, "I'll go make some tea." He got up and went to the kitchen to boil water. The autumn night was deep, a cool breeze blowing, but the thatched hut felt warm and cozy. No one was sleepy; they drank hot tea and chatted. "From now on, you'll live here. Prepare some timber this winter, and start building a new house next year," Dr. Zhu said. Hansheng still had something on his mind that he hadn't mentioned: was Wu Chushan the man Lan'er's father? He planned to secretly go to Wolong Valley in Dazhang Mountain the next day to find the man and ask him. Thinking of this, he felt a surge of excitement. He decided not to tell the mother and daughter for now, and to give them a surprise later.

The waning moon had already sunk below the horizon, yet Han Sheng still tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He finally drifted off to sleep after the rooster crowed three times.

In the early morning, the aroma of meat filled the kitchen. Lan'er was stewing the pig's trotter she had specially saved the day before. She hoped Han Sheng's leg injury would heal soon; this would be her home now. She and her mother had wandered for over ten years, and their hard times were finally coming to an end.

After breakfast, her father prepared to go to Nanshan Town. Lan'er and her mother were from out of town, and according to regulations, he had to explain their situation to the government and complete the necessary procedures.

"Stay home and recover well," her father instructed.

Seeing that the weather was clear, Lan'er and her mother took apart and washed the bedding, cleaning the house inside and out.

Han Sheng estimated that if he went to Wolong Valley now, he could return by sunset, perhaps even bringing back Wu Chushanren, if the man was indeed Lan'er's father.

After his father left, Hansheng made an excuse, saying he was going to dig some wild ginseng at the foot of the mountain. The journey wasn't far, and he could stretch his muscles a bit. He told Lan'er and her mother not to worry, and then set off with his big yellow dog, Benben. They

traveled eastward along the foot of Nanshan Mountain. The autumn air was crisp and clear; dewdrops clung to the roadside grass and wildflowers, and the air was filled with the fragrance of earth.

Benben happily skipped and hopped ahead, while

Hansheng's injured leg was mostly healed, and he walked with little difficulty. Neither he nor Benben noticed that behind them, in the distance, a lithe figure was constantly following them—Zhu Biao.

Two hours later, Hansheng had entered Dazhang Mountain. The mountains gradually rose higher, and the forests became denser.

Ahead should be Wolong Valley. Han Sheng vaguely remembered the old camphor tree at the valley entrance. Wu Chushanren had reluctantly seen him off to the tree. Perhaps it was fate that this scholar who had once saved his life might be his future father-in-law. Moreover, this father-in-law had used such a strange method to snatch the "riding cloth" back from that old bat. Han Sheng chuckled to himself as he thought about it.

"Benben, don't run around." Han Sheng saw the big yellow dog running to one side and quickly called it back.

What was he laughing at? Zhu Biao, hiding behind a tree, watched and pondered to himself.

The stream in the valley was still so clear, and occasionally a few small fish could be seen swimming in the water.

The deeper they went, the denser the camphor forest became. After passing through a grove, the familiar thatched hut appeared before them. The simple mud-brick and thatched hut had a thatched roof, and outside was a small, lush vegetable garden that the mountain man had cultivated himself. Smoke curled from the chimney of the hut.

Han Sheng stood at a distance, gazing at the tranquil pastoral scenery, a surge of excitement welling up inside him. He could imagine the astonished expression on the mountain man's face when he saw him.

Han Sheng shushed Benben, signaling him to be quiet, then tiptoed towards the house.

In the kitchen, a thin, gaunt figure was busy in the pot, and Han Sheng smelled that familiar aroma again. Han Sheng smiled; this Wu Chu mountain man was cooking his specialty, dried mountain rat, again.

"Uncle Mountain Man!" Han Sheng suddenly rushed over and shouted, startling the man, who clattered his bowl and spoons into the iron pot.

The man slowly turned around, looking at Han Sheng with great surprise.

This wasn't Wu Chu mountain man… Han Sheng froze. The man had a pale, ashen face, short, black eyebrows, triangular eyes, mostly white with less black, a hooked nose, and a goatee.

"Who are you? Where's Uncle Mountain Man?" Han Sheng asked awkwardly.

"And who are you? What are you doing in my Wolong Valley?" the old man with the hawk-like nose retorted, his sinister gaze fixed on Han Sheng, his voice as grating as metal.

"I... I'm looking for Wu Chushanren. He's the forest ranger who lives in this house," Han Sheng stammered, disliking this man from the bottom of his heart.

The old man stared at him for a long time, then slowly said, "There's never been a Wu Chushanren here. Did you come to steal loquats? I always thought it was those monkeys who did it."

How could this be? This was clearly Wolong Valley, this was clearly Wu Chushanren's home! This mud-brick house, this kitchen, and these dried rats... Han Sheng's face flushed red as he argued, "Are you new here? Where's the previous forest ranger?"

The old man was a little angry and retorted, "I've been guarding this forest for decades. You can ask around at the Forestry Bureau. Who doesn't know me, Jiang Lao Er?"

"This... you mean you've been living in this house for decades?" Han Sheng was completely confused.

"That's right, it's the first time I've seen such a reckless kid like you." Jiang Lao Er's tone softened slightly.

Han Sheng still couldn't believe what he was seeing. He had spent two days with the mountain man, and now this perfectly healthy person was gone.

"Are you sick here, kid?" Jiang Lao Er asked

, pointing to his head. Han Sheng didn't answer. He turned and rushed into the room where he used to sleep. He saw the old-fashioned wooden bed still there, the whitewashed walls, and the simple table and chairs.

Had he really broken his head? Han Sheng stood there, stunned.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" Jiang Lao Er nudged Han Sheng.

"Do you know what 'lightning-struck riding cloth' is?" Han Sheng blurted out.

"'Riding cloth'? You mean that thing women use on their private parts..." Jiang Lao Er grinned, revealing a few yellow teeth stained with tea.

"Do you have a hunting rifle?" Han Sheng asked again.

"Yes, it's hanging behind the door." Jiang Lao Er pointed to the door.

Han Sheng's gaze followed the sound, and sure enough, the old double-barreled shotgun was still hanging there quietly.

Impossible, impossible, what on earth was going on?

Han Sheng stumbled out the door. Wu Chushan, the old bat, the lightning-struck horse-riding cloth, the dried mountain rat—was it all a hallucination? Lan'er, the weeping blood syndrome, the ice man syndrome—were they all hallucinations?

Behind an old camphor tree, Zhu Biao witnessed everything.

Zhu Biao quietly retreated into the woods. Old Wu had warned him not to be discovered, especially since that big, clumsy dog was very clever. Anyway, he had already found Han Sheng's trail, so he hurried back to report. He dashed off towards Nanshan Village.

Han Sheng walked back dejectedly, with Benben following listlessly behind. The stream gurgled beside their feet, and unknown insects chirped tirelessly in the grass. They came to the old camphor tree at the valley entrance again.

Something felt off; Han Sheng stopped.

The paintings were gone! He remembered clearly the landscape paintings hanging on the walls of Wu Chushan's house, but the walls, which had just been whitewashed, were now bare, completely empty… They had vanished along with the mountain man!

Han Sheng's heart tightened. He tried to recall the scenery in the valley last time, and it did seem different from this time.

Just then, the barking of the big yellow dog, Benben, caught his attention. He followed the sound and froze. Where Benben was standing, there was another valley entrance, exactly the same as where he had just come from… He quickly went forward. A small stream flowed gently in the valley entrance. Looking down, he saw the same small fish swimming happily in the water. Looking into the valley, he saw the same dense camphor forest, with a winding path leading into it.

Han Sheng rubbed his eyes. Could it be that Wolong Valley had two valleys? When he said goodbye to the mountain man last time, he hadn't paid any attention to the location of the valley entrance. The entrance was to the left of the old camphor tree, but this one was to the right.

He had gone the wrong way; he must have wandered into another valley. Han Sheng wiped the sweat from his forehead, smiled at Benben, and thought to himself, "I'm really even dumber than Benben."

With a shout, Han Sheng, full of energy, led Benben back into the valley.

Walking along the valley path, he noticed that this valley was indeed different from the one he had taken the wrong way earlier; the cliffs seemed steeper, and the scent of the camphor trees seemed stronger.

After walking for about half an hour, they rounded a lush little hill, and the familiar scenery before them was a perfect replica: a simple mud-brick house with a thatched roof, a small green vegetable garden outside, and wisps of smoke rising from the chimney… Han Sheng's heart pounded with excitement. He hurried forward, shouting before even reaching the door, “Uncle Shanren, Han Sheng has come to see you!”

A person came out, and Han Sheng almost fainted upon seeing him… The smiling man was none other than Jiang Lao Er!

Chapter Twenty-Three: Exploring the Valley

“Why have you come back again, kid?” Jiang Lao Er asked, his triangular eyes glancing sideways at Han Sheng with a surprised expression.

Han Sheng, after a long pause, finally caught his breath: "You, what did you say? I came into another valley!"

"Hmph, I just finished eating the dried mountain rat, and you've already turned back. Look." Jiang Lao Er handed him his rice bowl, with half a rat's head still uneaten at the bottom.

Strange, Benben and I clearly went into the valley on the right.

Without a word, Han Sheng rushed into the thatched hut. The first thing he saw was the familiar wooden bed, the simple table and chairs, the walls painted with whitewash, and several ink landscape paintings hanging on the walls... There are landscape paintings on this wall!

Han Sheng suddenly burst into laughter, a chilling laugh. Abruptly, he stopped laughing, turned to stare at Jiang Lao Er, and calmly said, "Where is Wu Chu Shan Ren?"

"Didn't I tell you, there's no such mountain man here?" Jiang Lao Er's face was grim.

Han Sheng slowly squatted down, took out a glass bottle from under the bed, sniffed it, and sneered, "What's this? My urine is still in here!"

Jiang Lao Er's large, hooked nose twitched almost imperceptibly, his triangular eyes fixed on Han Sheng.

Han Sheng's gaze clashed back defiantly.

The two stared at each other for a long time... Zhu Biao rushed back to Nanshan Village shortly after noon.

After listening to Zhu Biao's report, Wu Daoming remained silent for a long time before slowly saying, "Did you see the old man's appearance clearly? Tell me again."

Zhu Biao recalled, "This person was probably around sixty years old, tall and thin, with a large hooked nose, and his goatee seemed to be yellow. I hid far away, so I couldn't see it clearly if I looked too closely." Could this person

be the mysterious master behind Han Sheng? The Central Plains are vast and rich in resources, and there are many hidden talents among the people. Considering the hundreds of kilometers around Huangshan, with its beautiful mountains and clear waters, it's not surprising that a few masters might be hiding there.

“Take me there,” Wu Daoming decided, determined to meet this reclusive master.

“Tomorrow morning?” Zhu Biao asked.

“No, now,” Wu Daoming replied thoughtfully.

After a quick packing, the two set off for Mount Dazhang.

Although Wu Daoming was already sixty, he climbed the mountain path with the agility of a swallow, naturally thanks to his youthful vigor after sixty years. While Zhu Biao was already drenched in sweat, the old man Wu remained calm and composed, his complexion unchanged.

“Old Wu, your health is truly remarkable! My stamina is far inferior to yours,” Zhu Biao flattered, panting.

Wu Daoming smiled slightly, gazing at the majestic Leigu Peak of Dazhang Mountain, which resembled a sharp sword piercing the clouds. He saw it "swirling and undulating, like banners and halberds," and nodded, saying, "The *Classic of Mountains and Seas* calls Dazhang Mountain 'the Capital of the Three Emperors.' Indeed, it exudes royal aura. When Qin divided the empire into thirty-six commanderies, a part of present-day Jiangsu, Anhui, Zhejiang, and Jiangxi was named 'Zhang Commandery.' Their foresight was truly remarkable. This place truly deserves to be called the birthplace of the Central Plains' spiritual energy."

"Let's go," Wu Daoming instructed.

Ahead was the old camphor tree, with a valley entrance on each side. Zhu Biao pointed to the left entrance, saying, "We'll enter from here."

Wu Daoming gestured for Zhu Biao to lead the way, and the two entered the valley one after the other.

"Caw caw..." Two large crows were startled, their feathers ruffled as they flew into the depths of the valley.

As Wu Daoming walked, he observed the valley. He saw lush vegetation, white clouds rising from the peaks, a babbling brook, and dense camphor trees. He thought to himself, "The hermit who lives in this secluded paradise must be a recluse, seemingly untouched by worldly affairs. "

However, he felt a little uneasy; such a tranquil place, yet crows kept company—it didn't feel peaceful.

Ahead came a mud-brick and thatched house, and several lush vegetable plots.

Zhu Biao nodded and said, "This is it."

Wu Daoming stopped Zhu Biao, who was walking ahead. He couldn't be too

forward with a reclusive master. "Who is this hermit living here? I, Wu Daoming from Lingnan, have come to pay my respects," Wu Daoming said loudly.

A thin, gaunt man emerged from the doorway—it was Jiang Lao Er.

"May I ask who you are looking for? There are only forest rangers here," Jiang Lao Er asked politely.

Wu Daoming's sharp gaze swept over Jiang Lao Er, and he was secretly surprised.

This man was tall and thin, with a deep, dark blue face, a high, curved aquiline nose, and a particularly unusual yellowish-brown goatee. As the saying goes, "A young man has two eyebrows, an old man has a full beard," this man's unusual appearance suggested he possessed extraordinary abilities and should not be underestimated.

"Haha, may I ask your honorable name, sir?" Wu Daoming nodded respectfully. "

Jiang Lao Er," the man replied, his voice as grating as a broken gong.

Wu Daoming sighed inwardly. "Birds are silent, beasts are voiceless," but this man was both voiceless and beastly, and even his name was so vulgar. He needed to be careful.

"Sir, you've lived in seclusion here for many years, haven't you?" Wu Daoming probed further.

"Decades. By the way, what are you doing in this valley? Not here to steal loquats, are you? I thought it was the monkeys who did it," Jiang Lao Er said.

"Nonsense, do we look like thieves to you?" Zhu Biao couldn't help but interject.

Wu Daoming glared at Zhu Biao, smiled slightly at Jiang Lao Er, and said, "Sir, you jest

. May I ask, did you see a young man leading a yellow dog enter the valley this morning?" "No," Jiang Lao Er answered directly.

"Nonsense again! I clearly saw you talking as you entered the valley today," Zhu Biao shouted.

Wu Daoming smiled without speaking, silently watching Jiang Lao Er.

Jiang Lao Er's triangular eyes coldly stared at Zhu Biao's face, and Zhu Biao suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.

"Haha, we've come from afar. Won't you invite us in, sir?" Wu Daoming laughed.

"Please come in," Jiang Lao Er stepped aside, inviting them inside.

Inside was a very simple mud-brick and thatched house, with whitewashed walls, a wooden bed, and a table and chairs.

"Sir, your life is so simple, and your spirit so vigorous, I don't think you're a forest ranger," Wu Daoming sneered. He had to attack; he didn't have time for small talk.

"Then what kind of person do I look like to you?" Jiang Lao Er seemed displeased.

"I am but a humble man, with only a slight skill in physiognomy. I see that you have a yellow beard and an aura of old age and gloom; this is the appearance of a tomb keeper," Wu Daoming said with a smile.

Jiang Lao Er was taken aback, then chuckled twice, changing his coarse tone, and slowly said, "Forgive my poor eyesight, but you are..."

Wu Daoming bowed respectfully and said, "Wu Daoming from Lingnan."

"And this is…" Jiang Lao Er's gaze swept towards Zhu Biao.

Before Wu Daoming could answer, Zhu Biao straightened his chest and loudly replied, "I am Zhu Biao, the squad leader and militia platoon leader of Nanshan Village."

"Hmm, Captain Zhu, since you came to the valley this morning, you must be very tired. Why don't you go to bed and get some sleep?" Before Jiang Lao Er finished speaking, he suddenly struck Zhu Biao's waist acupoint with lightning speed, causing him to fall asleep.

Zhu Biao was about to say he wasn't tired, but before he could utter a word, he slumped down, and Jiang Lao Er easily lifted the heavy Zhu Biao with one hand and tossed him onto the wooden bed.

Wu Daoming's approving gaze told him that the following conversation would be very important, and Zhu Biao indeed didn't need to listen.

"Alright, Mr. Wu, you've come all the way from Lingnan to Wolong Valley. What can I do for you?" Jiang Lao Er said seriously.

Wu Daoming hesitated for a moment, then said, "Please forgive my rudeness, but I would never presume to inquire about Mr. Jiang's affairs. I merely wish to ask, Han Sheng, who entered the valley this morning, is my friend. What is your relationship with him?"

Jiang Lao Er stared intently at him, coldly replying, "No relationship whatsoever."

"Oh, then what was he doing dragging his injured leg for dozens of miles through the mountains to the valley?" Wu Daoming asked.

"He probably wanted to steal loquats, but I discovered him and chased him away," Jiang Lao Er replied.

Could this person not be the powerful figure behind Han Sheng? No, this man's eyes darted around; he was definitely lying. Judging from the decisiveness with which he attacked Zhu Biao, he was no ordinary person.

"There's only one mountain path to Nanshan Village. I didn't see him return. Although I'm not very bright, I know he's still somewhere in the valley," Wu Daoming said, while remaining vigilant. This old man was quick to act.

"What does your friend's business have to do with me?" Jiang Lao Er said angrily.

Seeing that the conversation was not going well, Wu Daoming changed the subject, saying, "Just now, I saw your technique, sir. You used the Bodhidharma Acupoint Strike Fist, didn't you?"

"So what if I did?" Jiang Lao Er retorted rather rudely.

"Your body is filled with too much Yin energy. The Bodhidharma Fist uses Qi to strike acupoints. If you were to suddenly cut off your Yin energy in the Ren meridian, Zhu Biao might lose his lineage," Wu Daoming said gently.

Jiang Lao Er was stunned for a moment, then a chilling killing intent suddenly rose from his body.

Wu Daoming laughed heartily and said, "Fortunately, Zhu Biao already has a son, so I don't care."

The tense muscles on Jiang Lao Er's face relaxed, the gathered chilling Yin energy gradually dissipated, and an embarrassed smile appeared on his face.

"Mr. Wu, you jest. I took it seriously." He chuckled awkwardly, thinking that the newcomer was unfathomable. If a fight broke out, he might not have the upper hand. He had never heard of Wu Daoming from Lingnan before. Of course, he had been secluded in the valley for decades and knew very little about the affairs of the martial world. He wondered what this man's purpose was in entering the valley.

Wu Daoming wondered, where had Hansheng gone? If this person was indeed the master behind Hansheng and had passed on some unparalleled medical skills to Hansheng, then of course he wouldn't harm Hansheng. If not, then Hansheng might fall victim to his poison, because he hadn't encountered Hansheng or his big yellow dog on the way here. In any case, Hansheng was most likely still in the valley.

"This place is deep in the mountains and dense in the forest, rarely visited by people. It's a good place for cultivation," Wu Daoming said to Jiang Lao Er.

"The forest rangers are naturally deep in the forest, hehe," Jiang Lao Er said.

This man possessed martial arts skills; judging from the ruthlessness of his attack and the accuracy of his pressure point identification, he was far beyond the reach of ordinary martial arts masters. Yet, it was unimaginable that someone with such skill would remain secluded in these deep mountains for decades. There was only one explanation: he was forced to stay here, against his will. What secrets did this Crouching Dragon Valley hold that would cause a martial arts master to silently guard it for decades?

Most importantly, where did the sinister aura emanating from this man come from?

Wu Daoming grew increasingly excited. He was certain that this valley held secrets and was definitely worth exploring. However, he couldn't rush things; he needed to lure the snake out of its hole. As for the fate of that brat Han Sheng, he didn't need to worry about it too much.

Thinking of this, Wu Daoming cupped his hands and said, "Mr. Jiang, I apologize for my intrusion into the valley. Since my friend is no longer in the valley, I will take my leave." With that, he subtly channeled his inner energy and casually flicked his hand across Zhu Biao's Tanzhong acupoint, releasing the seal. Wu Daoming was actually doing this for Jiang Lao Er's benefit, to warn him and send a message that a master from Lingnan had infiltrated the valley, forcing Jiang Lao Er to take action.

Jiang Lao Er was secretly astonished. Wu Daoming's display of the "Orchid Flicking Acupoint Technique" was already masterful, far surpassing his own skill. This man must have ulterior motives for entering the valley; he had to be careful.

Zhu Biao groggily got up, muttering, "How did I fall asleep so suddenly?"

Wu Daoming and Zhu Biao walked out of the valley. Jiang Lao Er stopped at the gate and waved symbolically.

As they walked, Wu Daoming pondered his next move while carefully observing the scenery of the valley.

They returned to the old locust tree at the valley entrance, and Wu Daoming gestured for a short rest.

"Caw..." The crows in the old locust tree were cawing again, annoyingly.

"Have you been to that valley entrance over there?" Wu Daoming asked Zhu Biao.

Zhu Biao craned his neck to look, then shook his head. "No."

"Let's go in and take a look." Wu Daoming took the lead, heading towards the valley entrance on the right.

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Tomb Keeper

Entering the valley, the scenery inside was remarkably similar to the valley they had just passed. Wu Daoming strolled along the winding path.

"Caw caw..." Two large black crows cackled strangely as they flew overhead, heading deeper into the valley.

He stopped; these two black birds seemed odd, and he wondered if they were the same two from before.

In folk tradition, crows are considered very unlucky, often associated with graves and the dead, quite unlike the magpies that bring good fortune.

The camphor tree forest grew denser, filled with chirping sounds. Looking up at the sky, he saw the sun was setting, almost disappearing behind the mountains.

After passing through the dense forest and rounding the foot of the mountain, the valley suddenly opened up. A lush green vegetable garden stood beside a mud-brick and thatched house, wisps of smoke rising from its chimney, carrying the faint scent of burning straw and a rustic aroma.

It was exactly the same!

"Strange, how can it be the same as the valley we just visited?" Zhu Biao stood there dumbfounded, muttering to himself.

Wu Daoming also felt something was amiss, and having already observed carefully, it didn't seem like someone had set up a magic trick. Could there really be two identical valleys? Not only were the camphor trees the same, the stream the same, but even the house and vegetable garden were identical?

Perhaps, there was another identical yellow-bearded Jiang Lao Er in this house.

"Why are you back again?" A voice suddenly rang out, and a person stepped out of the door—it really was Jiang Lao Er… "My God, what's going on?" Zhu Biao stared, rubbing his eyes frantically.

Wu Daoming laughed heartily, "We really are destined to meet." He walked towards Jiang Lao Er, bowing respectfully.

"What brings you back this time?" Jiang Lao Er asked sternly.

"Since we meet again, Mr. Jiang, won't you invite me in for a chat?" Wu Daoming smiled slightly.

"Please come in," Jiang Lao Er stepped aside, inviting them into the house.

The furnishings inside the mud-brick and thatched hut were the same as the previous house: a wooden bed, simple table and chairs, and whitewashed walls. The only difference was that several ink wash landscape paintings hung on the walls.

"Beside the small pavilion on the stone steps of the lush forest, I gaze at the distant mountains shrouded in mist. Where are my old haunts? Beneath the Emerald Dragon Pavilion, I watch the flowing spring." Wu Daoming recited, gazing at a light ink painting of "Forest and Valley" by Huang Gongwang from the late Yuan Dynasty on the wall.

Jiang Lao Er remained silent.

"Mr. Jiang has quite the refined taste! It just so happens that I, Wu, also share this interest. Since we are fortunate to meet again, how about we drink wine and discuss poetry and painting tonight?" Wu Daoming said with a smile, without moving, but with a flick of his wrist… Behind him, a "thump" was heard, and someone had already fallen to the ground.

Zhu Biao hadn't yet understood what had happened; the echo of Wu's poetry still lingered in his ears when he felt a numbness in his waist, his body went limp, and he lost consciousness.

Jiang Lao Er was stunned, not understanding what had happened.

Wu Daoming smiled and said, "This man is simple-minded; don't let him spoil our enjoyment."

Jiang Lao Er's heart tightened; this Wu Daoming from Lingnan was faster than him, and his skill was definitely superior.

“Back then, Huang Gongwang secluded himself in Miaoshanwu and Shaojiquan in Fuyang, traversing both banks of the Fuchun River, finding solace in the landscape, and spent six years creating ‘Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains,’ considered the progenitor of Chinese light ink landscape painting. Seeing that Mr. Jiang’s humble abode also preserves the calligraphy of the Great Master Huang, I am filled with emotion, wondering what calligraphic works have survived to this day, having lived in seclusion in Wolong Valley for decades?” Wu Daoming feigned a sigh.

“I am not fond of literature,” Jiang Lao Er stammered, blushing slightly.

“Oh, so these calligraphic treasures are not yours? Is there another master living in Wolong Valley?” Wu Daoming pressed further.

“Absolutely not. For decades, I have often felt lonely,” Jiang Lao Er hurriedly replied.

Wu Daoming observed this, smiled slightly, and said, "I see. These paintings don't seem to be fakes, and they are quite valuable. Mr. Jiang could easily sell them and enjoy them for a lifetime. Why would he choose to be a forest ranger in these deep mountains, living a lonely life?"

Jiang Lao Er seemed unsure how to answer, and finally stamped his foot, saying, "I just like the tranquility and nature here; it's just a personal preference."

"Oh, I forgot to ask you. When I first entered this house in the valley, I didn't see any paintings or calligraphy on the walls. After I left, you hurriedly hung them up. I wonder why?" Wu Daoming feigned ignorance.

"This... I didn't..." Jiang Lao Er fell silent.

"You didn't hang them up yourself? Oh, I understand. This isn't the same thatched hut, is it?" Wu Daoming seemed to suddenly realize something.

"Impossible..." Jiang Lao Er's voice trailed off.

"These were originally two valleys, with very similar terrain and vegetation. They built identical mud-brick and thatched houses, used the same furniture, and even grew the same vegetables. The only difference is that one room has paintings on the walls, while the other has nothing," Wu Daoming explained confidently.

Jiang Lao Er was completely speechless.

"But there's only one Mr. Jiang," Wu Daoming said, looking at him.

Jiang Lao Er remained silent, his triangular eyes darting around.

"Could you show me the secret passage?" Wu Daoming asked casually.

"Secret passage! What secret passage?" Jiang Lao Er exclaimed in surprise, a strange look of grievance immediately appearing on his face.

"Hehe, with steep cliffs between the two valleys, how could you move freely without a tunnel? By the way, those two crows flying around are probably giving you a heads-up, aren't they?" Wu Daoming sneered.

"Hahaha, that's excellent! Wu Daoming of Lingnan truly lives up to his reputation!" Clapping came from outside the door, and a figure gracefully entered.

Wu Daoming was greatly alarmed. While he had been pressuring Jiang Lao Er with his words, he had been intently listening to every rustle of his surroundings, yet he hadn't noticed this newcomer at all.

"Who goes there?" Wu Daoming asked urgently.

"Wu Chushanren," the man replied.

Wu Daoming carefully examined Wu Chushanren. His forehead was prominent, his occipital bone strong, his cervical bone flat, his brow ridges prominent, his temples defined, his nasal bone showing a bud, and his cheekbones double-protruding—he already had eight prominent bones. It was a pity he lacked this last one, which prevented him from achieving the appearance of a king or nobleman; instead, he appeared "round but without a string, half a solitary monk.

" "Alas, what a pity," Wu Daoming sighed sincerely from the bottom of his heart.

"What is it that you sigh about, Mr. Wu?" Wu Chushanren asked, his voice clear and melodious like the wind.

"Seeing Mr. Wu Chushanren's dignified appearance, yet destined to be a solitary monk for half his life, I feel this way," Wu Daoming said preemptively.

“Oh, Mr. Wu is not only skilled in poetry, calligraphy, and painting, but also has profound knowledge of divination and physiognomy,” said Wu Chushanren.

Wu Daoming was not modest, but instead looked at the man with a carefree attitude.

“Mr. Wu, didn’t you want to discuss poetry and painting over wine? It’s almost dusk now, why not stay in the valley for the night? A master like you should be treated with the utmost hospitality, what do you say?” Wu Chushanren invited.

“That would be wonderful,” Wu Daoming said.

“Jiang Lao Er, go and make the arrangements. Remember, the dried rats should be a bit fatter,” the man instructed, seemingly the master of the valley.

Jiang Lao Er gestured towards Zhu Biao, who was sleeping on the ground, and said, “What should we do with this man?”

Wu Chushanren smiled and said, “Mr. Wu is a virgin of sixty years, his yang energy is extraordinary, let him sleep.”

Wu Daoming was naturally quite surprised to hear this. This man had seen through his virginity at a glance; he was not to be underestimated.

"Mr. Wu Chu, since we've discussed physiognomy and fortune-telling, in my opinion, this Mr. Jiang has a blue face, three strands of yellow beard, and an aura of old yin energy; he has the appearance of a tomb keeper. Am I right?" Wu Daoming, skilled in rhetoric, probed further… "Mr. Wu is absolutely right," Wu Chu Shanren replied.

"You mean, Mr. Jiang is indeed a tomb keeper?" Wu Daoming was caught off guard by Wu Chu Shanren's readily admitting it.

"That's right, he is indeed a tomb keeper," Wu Chu Shanren nodded.

"Shanren, please forgive my rudeness, but I don't understand what kind of tomb could be in Wolong Valley? As far as I know, there have never been any imperial tombs in this area since ancient times," Wu Daoming said sincerely, quite pleased with Wu Chu Shanren's honesty, and now addressed him directly as Shanren.

"What you say is true, there are no imperial tombs south of Huangshan," Wu Chu Shanren said.

"If that's the case, then what kind of tomb is he guarding?" Wu Daoming asked, puzzled.

“Empty mound,” Wu Chushanren laughed.

Chapter Twenty-Five Moonlit Night in Wolong Valley

“I am dull-witted and truly do not understand.” This time, Wu Daoming was genuinely confused.

Wu Chushanren smiled and said, “The sun has already set. Why don’t we move to the woods, where the moon is cold and the wind is gentle, and have a quiet drink?” With that, he led the way out of the thatched hut.

Beside the vegetable garden under the camphor trees, there was a flat, large round stone, with two pebbles underneath it that could be used as seats. Jiang Lao Er had already set out a pot of wine and a plate of roasted mountain rats, a specialty of northern Jiangxi. A unique aroma of meat wafted through the valley.

Wu Daoming sniffed it and praised, “This aroma is truly invigorating. I never imagined that such a delicacy existed in the Central Plains.”

“The Cantonese are fond of wild game. We have little to offer in the valley, but the mountain rats in Wolong Valley feed on all kinds of insects. They are all caught by Jiang Lao Er. They eat live rats in winter and dried rats in summer, making them very nutritious. Please do not be shy,” Wu Chushanren explained.

Wu Daoming reached out and tore off a piece of steaming, white, cooked meat, stuffed it into his mouth, and savored it carefully.

"Mmm, indeed sweet and tender. There's a saying in Lingnan that 'eating one rat is as good as eating three chickens.' I'm truly enjoying a feast!" Wu Daoming praised as he ate.

At this moment, the birds in the valley returned to their nests, the moon rose over the eastern mountains, and the air was cool and refreshing. Wu Daoming drank with Wu Chushanren while pondering how to further explore the secrets of the valley.

Wu Chushanren put down his wine cup, smiled slightly, and said, "Mr. Wu, if you have any questions, please speak frankly."

"Thank you. May I ask what you mean by 'guarding the empty tomb'?" Wu Daoming asked.

Wu Chushanren slowly said, "At the end of the Yuan Dynasty, the Battle of Poyang Lake in northern Jiangxi saw Zhu Yuanzhang defeat Chen Youliang, laying the foundation for the founding of the Ming Dynasty. In reality, this was a contest of feng shui. I think Mr. Wu should have heard of the hidden story behind this."

"Perhaps you are referring to the 'Tai Chi Halo' defeating the 'Double Phoenix Facing the Sun'?" Wu Daoming pondered.

"Wu Daoming of Lingnan is indeed knowledgeable and experienced. It was in this feng shui contest that Zhu Yuanzhang gained the upper hand, establishing the Ming Dynasty, which lasted 276 years until the Qing army entered the pass in 1644. And the one who planned this feng shui battle was the famous strategist Liu Bowen," Wu Chushanren said.

"Yes, Liu Bowen of Qingtian can be considered a master of his generation," Wu Daoming nodded in agreement.

"However, Liu Bowen had already seen that Zhu Yuanzhang was a wicked man, and that he would 'discard his bow after the birds are all gone,' and that he would surely be poisoned by him in his later years. Therefore, he kept a feng shui dragon vein that could restrain Zhu Yuanzhang, in order to seek revenge," Wu Chushanren explained.

"Are you talking about the Taiji Yin Aura?" Wu

Daoming interjected. "That's right, it's the Taiji Yin Aura used to restrain the Taiji Yang Aura where Zhu Yuanzhang's mother was buried by Poyang Lake," Wu Chushanren nodded.

"The Taiji Yin Aura is in this Wolong Valley?" Wu Daoming's blood rushed to his head, and he was extremely excited.

Wu Chushan observed silently.

He continued, “Liu Bowen sent several highly skilled martial artists from Qingtian to Wolong Valley to guard the Taiji Yin Yun. Very few people know this. These Qingtian youths lost contact with their families afterward and never returned to their ancestral home in Zhejiang. Their relatives in Qingtian all believed they had died in battle, and their hometown even erected cenotaphs for them. Time flies, and over 600 years have passed. Now, only Jiang Lao Er remains as a descendant of the tomb guardians, still silently keeping this secret.”

Wu Daoming fell silent. It was a poignant story, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of respect for Jiang Lao Er.

“Does he have to keep guarding it like this forever?” Wu Daoming asked.

“No, until the day someone brings a token. We've waited 600 years for that day,” Wu Chushan sighed.

“What token?” Wu Daoming blurted out.

Wu Chushan glanced at him but didn't answer.

"I apologize for my rudeness," Wu Daoming thought to himself. A secret kept for hundreds of years—how could an outsider so easily find out?

A cloud drifted by, partially obscuring the moonlight, making it appear even more elusive.

"Are Han Sheng and that big yellow dog still in the valley?" Wu Daoming suddenly asked.

Wu Chushan was silent for a moment, then softly replied, "They are still there."

"Are you the one who taught Han Sheng his superb medical skills?" Wu Daoming asked again.

"No," Wu Chushan answered clearly.

Wu Daoming looked up at the night sky, pondered for a moment, and said, "Alright, it's getting late, and it seems there aren't any extra beds in this thatched hut. I'll take my leave now. Thank you for your hospitality, sir."

Wu Chushanren said calmly, "Mr. Wu, having learned so many secrets, do you still intend to leave the valley?"

Wu Daoming was startled, then snorted and his face darkened. "Does the mountain man think he can keep me here?"

"I wouldn't dare, I only ask you to stay for three days," Wu Chushanren said.

"What do you mean?" Wu Daoming asked angrily.

"Within three days, someone will come to the valley with a token to make contact. They've waited 600 years for this one day, so until everything is settled, no suspicious person entering the valley may leave," Wu Chushanren said.

"Am I a suspicious person?" Wu Daoming asked indignantly.

"I wouldn't dare, but you're too clever, having seen through the valley's secrets, so I have no choice but to ask you to stay a few more days," the mountain man apologized.

Wu Daoming thought for a moment and asked, "Is Han Sheng in the same situation?"

"Yes," the hermit replied.

"Hehe, I appreciate your kindness, but I have many things to attend to outside the mountain, so I must take my leave." Wu Daoming chuckled coldly, secretly gathering his strength, preparing to attack.

"No need to bother. You wonder why this mountain rat tastes so delicious? It's because I added an extra ingredient, 'Dharani Soul-Destroying Powder,' a three-day dose. Sleep for three days and get some rest," Wu Chushanren said calmly. Wu Daoming

was furious and was about to get up when everything slowly went black before his eyes, and he lost consciousness.

Wu Chushanren stood up, hands behind his back, gazed at the night sky, sighed deeply, and recited: "A solitary traveler in the mountains, a lone wanderer on the ancient road. I play a mournful tune on my zither, only birds and beasts hear it. You have been gone for six hundred years, and I have not seen the people of Qingtian."

Jiang Lao Er approached and said softly, "Sir, how should we settle these two?"

Wu Chushanren did not turn around, but simply waved his hand and ordered, "Lock them in a secret room, and release Han Sheng's acupoints while you're at it."

Jiang Lao Er responded, picked up Wu Daoming and returned to the thatched hut, then grabbed the unconscious Zhu Biao from the ground, and went around to the foot of a cliff behind the thatched hut. There were dozens of stone caves of various sizes on the cliff face. The mountain here was all limestone, eroded by rainwater over time into a karst landscape, with countless caves inside, crisscrossing and winding through secluded places.

Jiang Lao Er entered through a very inconspicuous cave entrance, then turned and twisted through the dark stone corridors, finally arriving at a stone wall.

Jiang Lao Er put down the two men he was carrying, then gathered his strength, pressed his palms against the smooth stone wall, and slowly pushed open a heavy stone door, revealing a faint light inside.

Jiang Lao Er picked up Wu Daoming and Zhu Biao and went inside. It was a spacious stone chamber. After leaving the two men, Jiang Lao Er went to a corner of the chamber, where a wooden plank bed stood. Han Sheng was still unconscious, and the large yellow dog, Benben, lay beside him, its pressure points acupunctured by Jiang Lao Er. However, unlike the other dog, Benben, although unconscious, was snoring loudly.

Following the mountain man's instructions, Jiang Lao Er located Han Sheng's Tanzhong acupoint, pressed it, and then turned and left. He didn't want to worry about the dog; if it woke up and barked in the cave, it would be a nuisance.

He closed the stone door again and returned to the thatched hut.

"Sir, it's done," he said respectfully.

Wu Chushanren nodded.

"Sir, are we finally going to fulfill this 600-year-old wish?" Jiang Lao Er's eyes were red and brimming with tears.

Wu Chushan remained silent, his melancholy gaze still fixed on the starry sky. After a long, long time, he finally uttered a single sentence: "The Corpse Clothes Scripture is finally going to reappear in the martial world."

Chapter Twenty-Six: Yin

Long Han Sheng opened his eyes, the sound of footsteps echoing in his ears, followed by the creaking of a stone door closing, then silence, broken only by the occasional tinkling of dripping water.

He sat up, and by the dim, flickering light of the oil lamp on the stone wall, his eyes slowly adjusted, finally realizing that he was in a stone chamber.

Where was he? He tried to recall. He was in a thatched hut in Wolong Valley, confronting the forest ranger named Jiang Lao Er. He realized that when the man attacked, it was too late to dodge. He felt a numbness in his waist, and then he knew nothing more. Before losing consciousness, he seemed to hear the angry barking of the big yellow dog, Benben. It seemed that Jiang Lao Er had struck his pressure points and locked him in this stone chamber.

The familiar snoring sound alerted him. Looking down, he saw Benben sleeping beside him, snoring loudly.

"Benben, wake up," Han Sheng shook it.

Benben remained unresponsive. Had it also been struck by pressure points?

Unable to wake Benben, Han Sheng got out of bed and began to observe the situation inside the stone chamber. This stone chamber was naturally formed. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, water droplets seeping from their tips and falling onto the stalagmites on the ground. A breeze blew in from somewhere, causing the flame of the oil lamp to flicker slightly.

He tripped over something and looked down to see two sleeping people. He recognized their faces: one was Zhu Biao, the village head of Nanshan Village, and the other was Wu Daoming, the feng shui master from Hong Kong.

Han Sheng tried to nudge them one by one, but they remained unconscious. They must have been acupunctured. Strange, how did they end up here?

Perhaps even Wu Chushan had fallen victim to Jiang Lao Er's schemes.

Han Sheng sighed, stopped moving them, and went to examine the stone wall, finding the stone door. He tried, using all his strength, but the stone door remained unmoved.

Han Sheng returned to the bedside; Benben was still fast asleep.

He simply lay down, burying his head in his hands, his mind wandering. One moment he thought of his father, the next of Lan'er, and finally, the *Qing Nang Jing* (a classic Chinese medical text) appeared in his mind. He recalled the various medical prescriptions, one of which specifically described the method of releasing acupoints… The *Qing Nang Jing* records that there are countless acupoint techniques in the world, all essentially involving forcefully sealing the meridians, causing stagnation of qi and blood, thus temporarily impairing the function of the corresponding limbs and organs. The methods of releasing acupoints are divided into two types: external and internal. Externally, one applies heavy pressure to the corresponding acupoints, clearing the blocked meridians. Internally, one seals the mouth and nose, preventing breathing, forcing the body's vital energy to surge wildly. The explosive force of the final moment before death can break open all artificially sealed meridians and acupoints. The deeper one's internal strength, the stronger the impact, and therefore the greater the pain. This method is not suitable for children or the elderly and those who are weak or ill.

Han Sheng thought, rather than sitting here in this dark room waiting to die, he might as well give it a try.

He jumped out of bed and went to Wu Daoming's side. He decided to start with the old man; Han Sheng loathed Captain Zhu

from the bottom of his heart. Han Sheng knelt beside Wu Daoming's head, one leg bent, and pressed his hands firmly against Wu's mouth and nose… Soon, he felt Wu Daoming's face swell, his mouth and nose twitching and trembling. His palms felt hot against his skin. In an instant, Wu Daoming's entire body trembled, his back arching upwards.

Han Sheng pressed down with all his might, finally pressing his entire body down on top.

A "pfft" sound was heard, followed by an extremely foul odor. Wu Daoming's anal sphincter had been forced open by the internal energy, and he defecated and urinated… Han Sheng quickly withdrew his hands, covering his nose. To be honest, he had never smelled such a stench before.

Wu Daoming had fallen into a deep sleep after being poisoned by the "Tuoluo Soul-Sealing Powder," which paralyzes the entire Du meridian. Acupressure, however, only seals one acupoint. Therefore, Han Sheng's use of the acupressure release method from the "Qingnang Classic" was not the right approach; in fact, it could have been fatal.

But life is full of unexpected twists and turns, and Han Sheng's accidental encounter turned out to be the right one. Wu Daoming was a virgin of sixty years, possessing extraordinary pure Yang energy. With his mouth and nose blocked, his internal energy surged dramatically, his innate essence rushing into the Ren and Du meridians, achieving a perfect balance—the harmony of water and fire that so many martial artists dream of—in that instant!

"Hahaha." A series of deafening laughs erupted from Wu Daoming's mouth. He awoke and slowly stood up.

Wu Daoming smiled and stared at Han Sheng, saying kindly, "Good lad, truly worthy of being called a top-tier national medical master in the martial arts world! You know how to use such a bizarre technique, not only breaking the 'Duo Luo Soul-Destroying Powder' but also opening up my Ren and Du meridians. How can I possibly thank you enough?"

Han Sheng still covered his nose tightly, not having a chance to speak.

Wu Daoming let out an "Eh," only then realizing his crotch was sticky and uncomfortable. He sniffed it and immediately blushed.

Han Sheng, still covering his nose, walked to a corner, panting heavily.

Wu Daoming glanced around, understanding their current situation. Everyone, including Han Sheng, had been imprisoned in this stone chamber in the mountains by Wu Chushanren, and it seemed they wouldn't be released for at least three days.

The tomb guardians had guarded the valley for over 600 years. Within three days, someone would arrive at Wolong Valley with a token. Who would come? And what token would they carry? This valley is shrouded in mystery, exuding an eerie atmosphere. Wu, who has dominated Lingnan for decades, even commanding respect from the Governor of Hong Kong, never imagined he'd be defeated in Wolong Valley. It's truly shameful. Today, thanks to Han Sheng, he's unexpectedly turned misfortune into blessing; this kid is truly his lucky star.

"Han Sheng, how did you get locked up too?" Wu Daoming asked, approaching. The stench on his body wasn't as strong as before.

Han Sheng glanced at him and said, "Jiang Lao Er acupunctured me and Benben."

Wu Daoming nodded and asked again, "This place is extremely strange. What are you doing here? Did you know Jiang Lao Er and Wu Chushanren before?"

"Wu Chushanren? You saw him?" Han Sheng immediately became excited.

"Yes, I saw him. We even drank and ate dried rats together," Wu Daoming said indignantly.

"Does he know I'm locked up here?" Han Sheng asked hopefully.

“I guess he knows, because he's the master of Wolong Valley, and Jiang Lao Er is his subordinate,” Wu Daoming said with certainty.

“Why would he do this to me? We're friends!” Han Sheng cried out, pulling at his hair in anguish.

“Alright, Han Sheng, pull yourself together. Let's go out and find him to get to the bottom of this.” Wu Daoming said, pointing at the big yellow dog. With a bark, Benben jumped up.

“Good Benben.” Han Sheng hugged its head, and Benben affectionately licked it with its soft tongue.

Wu Daoming walked to Zhu Biao, who was lying on the ground, and kicked him, releasing his pressure points.

Zhu Biao yawned, scrambled to his feet, and looked around in bewilderment: “Strange, why is it so dark here?”

Wu Daoming’s sharp eyes immediately spotted the marks on the stone wall. He took two steps forward and came to the stone door.

After a few tries, the stone door creaked open.

The stone passageway was pitch black. Wu Daoming turned back and took the dim oil lamp from the stone wall, illuminating the passageway. They filed in.

Ahead lay a labyrinth of caves, the natural stone passageways crisscrossing and branching off. Which way out would they find? Wu Daoming was at a loss.

"Let me lead the way," Zhu Biao said, snatching the lamp. "It's a method every lost fellow knows."

A barely perceptible breeze blew through the limestone cave, causing the lamp's flame to tilt towards the fresh air. Wu Daoming suddenly understood, thinking that Zhu Biao truly embodied the proverb, "Even a fool's thousand thoughts may yield one correct one."

Zhu Biao led the way, lamp in hand, followed by Wu Daoming, and finally, the silent Han Sheng. He still couldn't understand why Wu Chushanren was avoiding them. He had originally planned to tell him about Lan'er and her mother; Han Sheng was almost certain that Chushanren was Lan'er's biological father.

The big yellow dog, Benben, would sometimes rush to the front of the group, and sometimes run back to Hansheng's feet, rubbing against his trouser leg and making soft growls in its throat.

After walking for about half an hour, the cave became increasingly spacious.

"Wait, something seems wrong." Wu Daoming called out to the enthusiastic Zhu Biao, and everyone stopped and looked around.

It was a long, narrow cave, about ten zhang wide and seemingly endless. A dark red liquid, like blood, seeped from the crevices in the stone walls, even staining the stalagmites red.

Wu Daoming dipped his finger in a little, brought it to his nose, and smelled it; it seemed to have a faint fishy smell.

"What is this?" Hansheng asked beside him.

"Perhaps some kind of mineral, dissolved by water containing carbonic acid, seeping out from the crevices," Wu Daoming analyzed.

"Oh dear, there's not much oil left," Zhu Biao exclaimed from the side.

Wu Daoming looked down and indeed, only a thin layer of oil remained in the oil container.

"Hurry up, or we'll all be trapped in this underground labyrinth." Wu Daoming, holding an oil lamp, took the lead and walked in.

"Dragon blood..." Han Sheng murmured.

"What did you say?" Wu Daoming stopped.

"This is dragon blood," Han Sheng dipped his finger in the red liquid and sniffed it, "a medicinal ingredient..."

"So, we're now inside the belly of a dragon vein, inside the belly of the Yin Dragon that travels southeast of Huangshan?" Wu Daoming suddenly became excited, his eyes shining brightly.

"If we don't leave now, it'll be too late." Zhu Biao urged.

"Wait, look at that!" Wu Daoming raised the oil lamp high, pointing one finger to the top of the cave.

In the flickering light of the oil lamp, there were many rock beams protruding from the cave ceiling, one after another, resembling human ribs.

"The wonders of nature." Wu Daoming exclaimed in awe.

Chapter Twenty-Seven.

Han Sheng looked up and exclaimed in surprise, "Huh, why does it look like pork ribs?"

Wu Daoming laughed and said, "The interior of this Yin Dragon's belly is like a multi-tiered house, with layers upon layers. Above the dragon's body, camphor trees and grasses grow lushly and tall trees stand tall. The two valleys face each other like twins. This is the burial site for founding a nation and establishing a government."

"Old Wu, are you saying we'll also be founding a nation and establishing a government? Isn't that counter-revolutionary rhetoric..." Zhu Biao quickly covered his mouth in fright.

"The world turns, fortune changes, who can understand it? Only Liu Ji, Liu Bowen." Wu Daoming sighed.

"Old Wu, if this place is the dragon's belly, then is there a dragon's heart, liver, lungs, and intestines?" Zhu Biao asked.

"Theoretically speaking, there should be similar naturally formed objects, but no one has ever seen them." Wu Daoming replied.

Han Sheng ignored their conversation, staring at the dragon blood on his fingertips, muttering to himself, "A medicinal guide..."

Wu Daoming softly asked Han Sheng, "What kind of ailment is this dragon blood used as a medicinal guide for?"

Han Sheng glanced at Wu Daoming, then lowered his head and remained silent.

"One of the essences of the Chinese I Ching is 'the analogy of all things.' Nature created and evolved humans and animals, and correspondingly, there exist natural phenomena in the world that resemble or resemble something else. This dragon's belly is one of them," Wu Daoming explained eloquently.

Suddenly, a huge white-haired, red-eyed bat glided silently to the front, gently landing on the ground, and urinated right in front of Benben. Benben, looking foolish, went forward and sniffed it, then suddenly growled a warning from his throat. But the old bat seemed unafraid of the big yellow dog, instead hopping back defiantly, finally retreating into an inconspicuous cave in the slanted stone wall.

"Benben, don't run around!" Hansheng called out hurriedly, but it was too late. Benben had already angrily chased after them into the cave.

Just as Hansheng was about to rush into the cave, Wu Daoming grabbed him and said urgently, "Don't chase them, the lamp oil is almost gone."

Hansheng glared at him, forcefully shook off Wu Daoming's hand, and ran into the cave entrance.

"What should we do? Should we follow them?" Zhu Biao looked at Old Wu nervously.

"No need, we need to get out first, and then we'll see what happens," Wu Daoming sighed.

Wu Daoming and Zhu Biao continued to follow the wind.

Seeing that the lamp oil was getting less and less, Wu Daoming became anxious. He simply held the lamp in one hand, grabbed Zhu Biao with the other arm, gathered his inner energy, and ran forward at top speed.

Zhu Biao only heard the whistling wind in his ears. This Old Wu was indeed powerful.

After an unknown amount of time, when the lamp went out, a sliver of light shone from the cave ahead. They had finally reached the exit.

"Linggu Cave!" Zhu Biao, left on the ground by Old Wu, rubbed his eyes and shouted loudly.

The moonlight was hazy, and ahead lay a dark bamboo forest. They had truly arrived at the entrance of Linggu Cave; beyond the bamboo forest was the old locust tree in front of Nanshan Village.

"Dragon's Mouth..." Wu Daoming muttered to himself.

Han Sheng, without thinking, followed Benben into the cave. It was pitch black inside, with only a pair of small red eyes receding into the stone passageway, and Benben's heavy breathing in his ears.

At that moment, Han Sheng regretted entering this dark cave. There was no other way but to grope his way forward, staring at the pair of red dots.

After walking for a while, turning and twisting, it seemed they had passed through many dark passages. Finally, the pair of red dots stopped. Exhausted, Han Sheng leaned against the stone wall and breathed a sigh of relief.

He seemed to hear something, and looking up, he saw hundreds of pairs of red eyes staring at him in the darkness... a bat cave! The thought flashed through Han Sheng's mind, cold sweat beading on his neck. Benben, startled, also looked up at the countless red dots, breathing heavily through its nostrils.

Han Sheng dared not move, unsure if the red eyes could see him in the darkness, or if they would attack.

Suddenly, he remembered something from his middle school textbook: bats have zero vision; they rely on emitting ultrasonic waves and receiving the reflected echoes to perceive their surroundings. So, those red eyes staring at him might not even notice him. Thinking this, Han Sheng's anxiety eased slightly.

Unable to bear the silence, Benben suddenly barked wildly at the red eyes.

It seemed Benben was truly stupid; this immediately exposed its target. Hundreds of pairs of red eyes swooped down simultaneously, the darkness filled with Benben's angry roars and the sounds of it rolling and tearing.

Han Sheng was helpless at this moment. If he rushed out, he feared he would be bitten to death by the red-eyed bats. He was extremely worried about Benben's safety.

In the darkness, the painful howls of Benben could already be heard… Suddenly, the tearing and biting stopped. The blood-red eyes in the darkness all darted to the top of the cave, remaining eerily still and silent, making the cave unusually quiet.

Two red dots, the size of goose eggs, appeared in the distance. They arrived in an instant—a pair of blood-red eyes, about a meter above the ground. This was a huge bat leader; its red lantern-like eyes emitted a glow that illuminated the ground several feet around it, making it possible to see clearly.

A white object lay at its feet, its body trembling in pain. Han Sheng realized it was Benben. All its fur had been plucked by the bats, revealing its white hide.

Benben had always cherished its golden fur, licking it clean even if it got a little dirty. Now, all of it had been plucked, and one could imagine its distress.

The bat leader extended its right claw and kicked the clumsy creature on the ground, baring two rows of sharp, white teeth as if about to bite... Han Sheng cried out in alarm. The bat leader turned around and saw Han Sheng, suddenly letting out a sharp whistle. Instantly, the swarm of bats on the cave ceiling swarmed down, directly attacking Han Sheng.

Han Sheng was startled and frantically grabbed whatever he could find to defend himself.

In his haste, Han Sheng frantically pulled something from his pocket and brandished it. Suddenly, he heard another whistle, and with a "whoosh," the bat swarm instantly returned to the cave ceiling, lying motionless on the rock wall.

The bat leader leaped two steps and arrived in front of Han Sheng, its blood-red, bell-like eyes fixed intently on Han Sheng's hand. Before Han Sheng could think, the bat leader swung its claw and forcefully snatched the object from his hand.

Han Sheng snapped out of his daze. The object was indeed the "lightning-struck riding cloth," a menstrual belt.

A few days ago, Han Sheng had used it as a medicinal ingredient, wrapping it around Lan'er's face to cure her bleeding syndrome. He had later casually tucked it into his pocket; it was hard-won, and he might need it again in the future.

He never expected that this very item would save him and Benben.

The bat leader sniffed the riding cloth, then excitedly jumped up, its small claws on its wings holding the cloth high, letting out a satisfied squeak. The bats on the cave ceiling glided down, circling the leader, countless red eyes spinning in the darkness, dazzling Han Sheng.

With a whistle, the bats returned to their ranks and crouched on the cave ceiling.

The bat leader sized up Han Sheng, shaking the riding cloth in its claws, seemingly having lost its hostility. Han Sheng stared nervously at the pair of blood-red, eerie eyes, his heart sinking. He recalled that stormy night when he and Wu Chushan ambushed the white-haired old bat atop the camphor tree, stealing the "Lightning-Struck Riding Cloth." Lightning had killed the old bat, though he hadn't killed it himself, it was still its cause. Now, he had stumbled into the bat's lair and had the riding cloth discovered; it seemed his fate was sealed.

The bat leader winked at Han Sheng, then leaped backward. Han Sheng, not understanding its intention, remained rooted to the spot, his eyes still wary.

The bat leader returned, winking again and repeating the action, while softly whistling, its red eyes fixed on Han Sheng.

Han Sheng seemed to understand its meaning; perhaps it wanted him to follow. He tentatively took a step forward, and sure enough, the bat leader retreated again.

Han Sheng thought to himself, "Where is this guy leading me? Oh well, whatever, staying here is a death sentence anyway. I've already hurt the white-haired old bat; if they want revenge, so be it." He took a few steps forward and, using the faint red light from those eyes, gently helped Benben up. He touched Benben's skin, finding it quite nice—soft and smooth.

Benben stood up and shook its fur as usual, but this time it was bald, only wriggling its fat body a few times. It seemed Benben wasn't seriously injured, just frightened.

Benben stuck out its warm tongue and licked Han Sheng's hand, then wagged its bald tail.

"Let's go, Benben, let's follow this big bat," Han Sheng patted Benben's head.

Those blood-red eyes led the way, with Han Sheng and Benben following behind, stumbling and struggling to keep up on the uneven ground.

The further they went, the narrower the cave became, eventually requiring them to crawl. Benben, however, seemed unfazed; without its fur, it appeared to have an easier time burrowing.

After crawling for a while, the cave opened up ahead, revealing a greenish glow accompanied by the sound of flowing water.

This was a naturally formed large cave, with pointed stalagmites on the floor, their tips oozing red liquid. In the center was a large, oval, egg-shaped object, from which the green light emanated. The

green glow illuminated the cave clearly. The bat leader leaped onto the egg-shaped object, winked at Hansheng, and then flew away along the same path, clutching its riding cloth. "

Why did it bring me here? Isn't it taking revenge on me?" Hansheng wondered, somewhat puzzled. He walked along the egg-shaped object, examining it closely.

It was also formed from limestone eroded by water, and its composition was likely calcium bicarbonate. Hansheng tapped it with his finger; it produced a hollow sound.

This area is karst topography, with many underground caves, most of which have never been explored. Han Sheng had gone into many caves with his father when he was young; stalactites and stalagmites were common, but he had never encountered round stone eggs with hollow interiors.

Could they be dragon eggs? Han Sheng recalled Wu Daoming's saying about "all things having similar appearances." Since dragons have naturally formed stone ribs and dragon blood inside their bellies, it wouldn't be surprising to find a few dragon eggs, provided the dragon vein is female, that is, a yin dragon.

On one side of the stone wall was an underground river. Judging from the sound, the water flowed extremely fast. Rainwater from Huangshan seeped underground and was then transported in all directions through this underground river, emerging as springs and waterfalls to join rivers.

It seemed that he and Benben were trapped in this cave. Even if his father brought people to search, they wouldn't be able to find them in this underground labyrinth.

"Benben, we're going to die here," Han Sheng sighed and said to Benben.

Benben, as if understanding, nestled at Han Sheng's feet.

Why does this stone egg glow green? Curiosity drove Hansheng to the stone egg, which was taller than a person, and he examined it intently, while Benben followed listlessly behind him.

The green fluorescence emanated from the surface of the stone egg. Hansheng scratched it with his fingernail; it was very hard, like a type of quartz fluorite.

Benben brought its nose to the stone egg and sniffed, then suddenly growled softly in its throat, took two steps back, and barked wildly at the stone egg.

"Benben, stop barking, save your energy," Hansheng called out twice.

Benben ignored him and continued barking at the stone egg.

"Could there be something inside?" Hansheng wondered, otherwise Benben wouldn't be barking so unusually.

He thought for a moment, looked around, and saw no stones or anything like that on the ground. Finally, he came to a stalagmite. According to his father, stalagmites grow extremely slowly, formed drop by drop by the sedimentation and condensation of stalactites, and can only grow to about one meter in height in ten thousand years.

With a "thud," Han Sheng kicked out, and with a "crack," the brittle stalagmite snapped in two. He picked up the broken tip and returned to the stone egg.

Holding the broken stalagmite high, Han Sheng slammed it down on the stone egg. With a "bang," a crack appeared in the egg. Han Sheng pressed his eyes close to the crack, peering intently inside… Suddenly, many long, white, spiderweb-like tendrils emerged from the crack and wrapped around Han Sheng's head! More tendrils kept pouring out, continuing to envelop him. Han Sheng desperately tried to tear them away, but it was all in vain. Soon, his body was tightly bound in a thick layer, like a large cocoon.

Han Sheng only managed to call out "Benben" a few times before falling silent.

Benben, sensing something was wrong, immediately pounced, frantically tearing at the cocoon-like threads binding Han Sheng. More tendrils swarmed around, enveloping Benben as well. In no time, Hansheng and Benben had become a large white cocoon. The white tendrils that

had been sealed inside the stone egg for tens of thousands of years finally broke free and began to grow wildly upon contact with air.

Hansheng could no longer stand; he swayed and fell to the ground, rolling into the surging underground river and drifting downstream. Chapter

Twenty-Eight

Inside the cocoon, Han Sheng felt as if he were in water. The thick layer of white silk was breathable and waterproof, soft and warm, but he was completely bound, unable to move his hands or feet. The large white cocoon drifted downstream in the turbulent underground river.

Han Sheng was in a daze, not knowing how long he had been drifting in the darkness. He fell asleep several times, only to be jolted awake by the rapids.

Suddenly, Han Sheng felt a bright light before his eyes, and his body seemed to float in the air. Then came a tremendous downward force, his heart seemed to leap into his throat, and a few seconds later, he crashed heavily onto the water. In an instant, Han Sheng lost consciousness.

This was a waterfall, about ten zhang high, with water cascading like a ribbon. Below was a deep pool, surrounded by lush green bamboo forests. A thatched hut sat beside the pool, with wisps of smoke rising from its chimney. It was early morning, and the pool was shrouded in mist, the bamboo grove a white expanse. Several black mynas were drinking at the pool's edge, chirping incessantly.

A large white cocoon fell from the waterfall into the deep pool, splashing up a huge spray. The mynas scattered in all directions, flying far into the depths of the bamboo grove.

The sound of the splash reached the thatched hut, and a little girl, about seven or eight years old with two small braids, ran out and spotted the large white cocoon in the pool. She immediately cried out excitedly, "Grandma, come quick! There's a big white fish in the water!"

An elderly woman appeared at the door of the thatched hut, her face kind and gentle, holding a string of prayer beads.

"This isn't a big white fish," the old woman wondered, staring at the pool.

The old woman went to the wall, fetched a long bamboo pole, stood on a blue stone by the pool, and slowly pulled the large white cocoon over, then forcefully dragged it ashore. The little girl clapped her hands with joy.

"Grandma, what is this if it's not a fish?" the little girl asked.

The old woman reached out and touched it, then shook her head and said, "It looks like some kind of silkworm silk. How can it be such a big lump?"

At this moment, Han Sheng had woken up and heard voices outside the cocoon, but he couldn't move and was too weak to speak.

"Woo-woo," Benben gurgled in its throat and started to wriggle.

"Grandma, this thing can talk and move!" the little girl exclaimed excitedly, her face flushed.

The old woman pondered for a moment and said, "I'll go back to the house and get some scissors to cut it open." She then returned to the thatched hut.

"How can you move and talk?" the little girl murmured, patting the large white cocoon.

"Woo-woo," a sound came from inside the large white cocoon.

"Are you talking to me?" the little girl patted the large white cocoon again.

"Woof woof," Benben revealed its true form.

The little girl was startled and took two steps back, staring blankly at the large white cocoon, too afraid to utter a sound.

The old woman brought out scissors and said, "Ping'er, shall Grandma cut it open now?"

Ping'er nodded, hiding behind her grandmother and peeking out.

The old woman carefully inserted the scissors from one end, then with a "snip," cut open the entire surface of the large white cocoon, revealing the dull, grayish-white skin of Benben inside.

"Woof woof!" Benben was naked in front of the grandmother and the little girl Ping'er.

"Is it a dog?" Ping'er asked timidly in a low voice.

"It looks like it, but why isn't it hairy?" The old woman looked at Benben in surprise.

Benben ignored them, turning its head and whimpering as it tore at the inner layer of white silk with its teeth.

There was something else inside? The old woman pondered, then squatted down with the scissors and began to cut the inner layer.

The white silk was completely cut open, revealing the cold creature lying inside... The old woman and Ping'er were both stunned.

"Thank you for saving me, Granny." Han Sheng slowly sat up.

After a while, the old woman recovered her senses and said, "Amitabha, who are you? How did you get inside this silkworm garment?"

Han Sheng smiled bitterly and said, "My name is Han Sheng, from Nanshan Village in Wuyuan. It's a long story."

The old woman stepped forward to help Han Sheng up and said, "Young man, let's go back inside first." She helped Han Sheng walk towards the thatched hut, with Benben following behind.

The little girl Ping'er was extremely surprised. How could a person be born from that big white silkworm? After thinking for a moment, she picked up the silkworm garment and went back inside. It turned out that the big white silkworm garment was very light.

The old woman brewed hot tea and served it to Han Sheng.

“My family lives in Nanshan Village. My father is the village's barefoot doctor. Benben and I got lost in the caves of Dazhang Mountain. We were wrapped in white silk growing from a stone egg and fell into an underground river, where we were swept here.” Hansheng recounted the events in a few words; some of his adventures were beyond their comprehension.

The old woman told Hansheng that this place was northwest of Wuyuan, almost to Poyang Lake. She said her surname was Wang and she lived with her granddaughter. Seeing that Hansheng was weak, she suggested he stay for a few days.

Hansheng calculated that it was probably seventy or eighty li from the underground of Dazhang Mountain to this place. He hadn't expected to drift so far in the underground river. His father and Lan'er must be worried sick at home after a day and a night without any news from him.

“Are you hungry? I'll go make some food.” Grandma Wang went to the kitchen to busy herself, leaving Ping'er and Benben alone in the house.

“Big brother, what's its name?” Ping'er gently stroked Benben's smooth skin with her little hand.

“Its name is Benben,” Hansheng told the innocent little girl.

“Why doesn’t it have any fur?” Ping’er asked curiously.

Benben stuck out its warm, long tongue and licked Ping’er’s little hand affectionately.

“The bats plucked all its fur,” Hansheng told her.

“Bats? Why would they pluck Benben’s fur?” The little girl was even more surprised.

“Time to eat.” Granny Wang brought in porridge and a dish of pickled chili peppers, and specially scooped half a spoonful onto the ground for Benben to eat.

“Amitabha, this dog is quite pitiful,” she murmured.

During the meal, Granny Wang said, “Did you encounter the Red-Eyed Shadow Bat?”

Hansheng put down his chopsticks and said, “We can’t see what it looks like in the dark. What is a Red-Eyed Shadow Bat?”

Granny Wang said, “This kind of shadow bat can never stand the sunlight. Its eyes are blood red. It likes to hide in caves. It has an extremely long lifespan and is very sinister.”

“Sinister?” Hansheng asked, puzzled.

“They especially love plucking hair. When my old man was alive, one night while he was guarding the tomb, a group of red-eyed bats plucked all his hair and beard. When he came home, I didn’t even recognize him,” Granny Wang recalled, a smile appearing on her face.

“Guarding the tomb? Granny, what kind of tomb did your husband guard?” Han Sheng asked.

Granny Wang realized she had let something slip, muttered “Amitabha,” and refused to continue. Instead, she asked Han Sheng, “Han Sheng, you said that silkworms would come out of the stone egg and entangle you. I’ve never heard of such a thing before.”

Han Sheng said, “Yes, how could such a strange thing exist in the world? I’m completely baffled. When I broke the stone egg, before I could even see clearly inside, I was entangled by those silkworms.”

“Did you see clearly? Was that really a stone egg?” Granny Wang asked doubtfully.

“It was stone, and it was glowing green,” Han Sheng recalled.

“Green glowing?” Granny Wang pondered, then murmured to herself, “Could it be ‘celestial silkworms’?”

"Grandma, are you talking about 'Heavenly Silkworm'?" Han Sheng was secretly surprised. He knew that the *Qing Nang Jing* specifically recorded the medicine "Heavenly Silkworm," which he had always believed referred to the eggs of the Heavenly Silkworm moth found in the oak forests near the high-altitude lakes of Ning'an, Heilongjiang—an extremely rare, emerald-green wild silkworm.

His father had once said that the silk spun by this silkworm was a naturally emerald green, a priceless treasure, called a green soft gemstone. Even when the Kwantung Army searched for Heavenly Silkworm silk for Emperor Showa of Japan, they only obtained a mere ounce or three mace, yet the Japanese Imperial Family treasured it immensely.

According to his grandmother, could there be another kind of Heavenly Silkworm in the world? The *Qing Nang Jing* might be referring to this other kind of Heavenly Silkworm, and Han Sheng suddenly became inexplicably excited.

His grandmother looked at Han Sheng and slowly said, "Child, did you see any blood-like red liquid near the stone egg?"

"Yes, it seeped from the stone," Han Sheng replied.

"That's right, that stone egg is the 'Heavenly Silkworm,' and the silk wrapped around you is its silk," the old woman said solemnly.

Han Sheng was astonished and remained silent for a long time. Then he softly asked Granny Wang, "Granny, how do you know so much?"

The old woman closed her eyes and remained silent for a long time, until a tear welled up in the corner of her eye.

"Amitabha, child, since you have encountered the Heavenly Silkworm, you must be destined to meet me. I will no longer hide it from you. I am a tomb keeper," Granny Wang sighed.

"Tomb keeper?" Han Sheng asked疑惑地.

"Child, have you heard of Zhu Yuanzhang?" the old woman asked.

Han Sheng nodded.

The old woman continued, "Let me tell you a story from 600 years ago. Zhu Yuanzhang's father was named Zhu Wusi. He married a woman surnamed Chen, and they had five sons and two daughters. The youngest son, Zhu Chongba, later became the founding emperor of the Ming Dynasty, Zhu Yuanzhang, born on the 18th day of the ninth month of the first year of the Tianli era. My ancestor, my grandmother, was Zhu Yuanzhang's mother's personal maid, possessing unparalleled martial arts skills from the Emei Sect. In

the 20th year of the Yuan Dynasty's Zhizheng era, Zhu Yuanzhang and Chen Youliang fought a protracted battle at Poyang Lake. The strategist Liu Bowen came up with a plan: using the remaining mountain ranges of Huangshan..." A propitious burial site called "Taiji Halo" was said to be auspicious, countering Chen Youliang's ancestral tomb, "Double Phoenixes Facing the Sun," and was considered a place of rapid prosperity for establishing a new dynasty. However, due to the continuous warfare at the end of the Yuan Dynasty, the remains of Zhu Yuanzhang's father, Zhu Wusi, could not be found. In desperation, Zhu Yuanzhang intentionally or unintentionally revealed this information to his mother, Chen, who, understanding the greater good, buried herself alive at Taiji Halo. Moreover, in her quest for swift success, she forbade a coffin, burying her body directly in the ground. Sure enough, not long after, Zhu Yuanzhang decisively defeated Chen Youliang at Poyang Lake. Liang, having subsequently defeated Zhang Shicheng and Fang Guozhen, became the founding emperor of the Ming Dynasty.

After my mother's burial, Zhu Yuanzhang bestowed upon her a thousand taels of gold and ordered my ancestral grandmother to guard her tomb for generations. By my generation, this has been over 600 years. My ancestral grandmother left a will passed down through generations, in which she mentioned Liu Bowen. Liu Bowen knew that his suggestion would damage Zhu Yuanzhang's image as a filial son, and that Zhu Yuanzhang would surely kill him to silence him after establishing the dynasty, so he made arrangements beforehand. In the eighth year of Hongwu, when Zhu... When Zhu Yuanzhang sent an imperial envoy with a gift of poisoned wine to Qingtian, Liu Bowen had just committed suicide by poisoning himself and his coffin was lying at home. After the envoy opened the coffin and examined the body, he returned to Jinling and reported to Zhu Yuanzhang, thus relieving him of a great worry.

However, Liu Bowen had faked his death and disappeared without a trace. Some people had seen him at Jiming Temple in Jinling, where he had shaved his head and become a monk. In fact, these were all rumors and hearsay. The Ancestor Granny had discovered his whereabouts and found that he was hiding in Wolong Valley in the Dazhang Mountains of Jiangxi. "

Wolong Valley!" Han Sheng exclaimed in surprise.

"Yes. The Ancestor Granny went to Wolong Valley to kill Liu Bowen to avenge his death at the hands of his mistress, Chen Shi," the Granny said.

"Did the Ancestor Granny kill Liu Bowen?" Han Sheng asked.

"No, they had a deep conversation in Wolong Valley, and then our ancestral grandmother returned. She never set foot in Wolong Valley again. As for the specifics of their meeting, our ancestral grandmother's will didn't say, only that she left behind a verse by Liu Bowen, a five-character quatrain. The poem reads: 'Taiji covers Taiji, Qingtian has no end in sight. When the silkworm reappears, the corpse will accompany you.' As for the meaning of this verse, my family, the guardians of the tomb for over 600 years, still cannot fathom it," the grandmother sighed.

Han Sheng listened in silence for a long time. The affairs of the world, the struggles of the martial world, love and hate—who can truly understand them? Think of that man from Wu Chu Mountain, half his life wandering, a lifetime of loneliness, unable even to see the woman he loved most, not even knowing he had a daughter suffering so much. Lan'er's mother was also pitiful, traveling across the Central Plains with her daughter, determined to find her husband, living a lonely life without complaint. "Alas, what is love in this world that makes people willing to die for it? "

Han Sheng thought, tears welling up in his eyes.

His grandmother looked at him in surprise and asked with concern, "Child, why are you crying?"

Han Sheng wiped away his tears and said, "It's nothing, Grandma, please continue." "

In her ancestral writings, Grandma mentioned the Heavenly Silkworm. The book says, 'The Heavenly Silkworm is spherical, hard, and glows green, with white tendrils inside, growing upon smelling its scent.' So, from what you said about that stone egg, I guessed it was the Heavenly Silkworm. The last two lines of Liu Bowen's poem, 'When the Heavenly Silkworm reappears, a corpse shroud will accompany you,' now the Heavenly Silkworm has reappeared, so what is that corpse shroud?" his grandmother said.

"The corpse shroud is here," Ping'er suddenly ran out, dragging in the already cut-open silkworm.

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