Chapter Twenty-Seven: Demonic Aura, Wandering Spirits!

“Thank you, seven taels and three qian of silver in total.”

Carrying the medicinal herbs he had just purchased, Qi Xiu, disguised as a short, round man with straight bangs, ambled out of the South Market.

He had learned his lesson from last time.

This time, to buy the herbs, he scoured three different market districts and six pharmacies, disguising himself twelve times in all. He purchased the ingredients separately, mixing up the order and quantities. Even his route home was deliberately extended by two extra li.

“With this newly improved formula, the cultivation speed of the Sun-Gazing Spirit-Strengthening Method will be at least ten percent faster.”

He inhaled the fragrance of the herbs in his hand, and a smile crept onto his lips.

Over these days, he had been brewing secret medicines and studying pharmaceutical texts. His proficiency in alchemy had soared, rising above fifty percent in just a few days.

A flood of insights followed, allowing him to intuitively perceive the flaws and deficiencies in the secret medicine used for the Sun-Gazing Spirit-Strengthening Method. After thorough contemplation and research, he had indeed devised a new formula.

With this new secret medicine, he could quickly heal the subtle damage caused by his cultivation, lengthening his training sessions. This would help him break through the first stage of the Sun-Gazing Spirit-Strengthening Method as soon as possible.

The hour had just passed dawn, and the morning market on South Street was bustling.

Qi Xiu entered a stall selling sweet pancakes and soybean milk, sat down, and ordered half a sweet pancake and a bowl of soybean milk.

“Sir, your pancake and soybean milk,” the owner said, smiling as he brought over the steaming food. “There’s chili and soy sauce on the table, add them as you like.”

Qi Xiu nodded, handing over a few copper coins.

He looked at the bowl, its surface shimmering with sesame oil and scallions, took a big bite of the pancake, and sighed inwardly.

So, in this world, does everyone only drink salted soybean milk?

With the sweet pancake and hot soybean milk warming his stomach, Qi Xiu felt much better and rose to head home.

But he noticed that the customers, who had been quietly eating, suddenly all stood up and hurried outside as if on cue—almost as if someone was scattering silver coins in the street.

“Boss, where are they all going?” Qi Xiu asked curiously, watching the crowd surge away.

“Well, what else? The lord of the Qian family has passed away, and they’re holding a grand funeral feast, inviting the whole city,” replied the owner, flipping pancakes. “I went yesterday. The dishes were amazing—chicken, fish, meat, eggs, river delicacies, wild game, everything you could want. If you have time, you’d better hurry; if you’re late, there might not be any seats left.”

“Funeral feast?”

Qi Xiu’s eyes flickered; it had been a while since he’d paid attention to the Qian family.

Forget it—better to avoid unnecessary trouble. Since the Qian family and I are at odds, it’s best to keep my distance.

Carrying his medicinal herbs, Qi Xiu decided not to join the festivities and strolled away at his leisure.

...

On the other side, at the Qian family estate.

In the spacious front courtyard, hundreds of large round tables were set up. A steady stream of townsfolk flooded into the Qian mansion, scrambling for seats and then refusing to move.

Behind the main hall’s screen, Daoist Wu stood expressionless, gazing at the packed courtyard of thousands, quietly rubbing a jade short flute in his hand.

“Has everything been distributed?”

“Reporting to Master, there are two jars left. In about a month, everything should be given out,” answered a young Daoist, his build resembling that of the late Xuan Tong and his companion.

“Good. Tell the kitchen to be extra careful. No one can find out.”

After a few instructions, Daoist Wu turned toward the rear courtyard.

The sealed jade Buddha was still in Qian Yuhai’s room.

Standing outside the door, staring at the petrified jade Buddha, Daoist Wu’s gaze was icy.

Those brutes from the Tai Bao Sect will surely return someday.

But as long as my Ten Thousand Insect Unification Method succeeds, I will break through this damned sealing technique.

Once the artifact is in my hands—even if Jin Siji himself arrives—I will not fear him!

...

The twelfth lunar month passed; spring crept in, winter receded.

The weather grew warmer.

Qi Xiu, who spent his days at home, could barely recall the month or date.

These quiet, uneventful days, free from disturbance, were exceptionally comfortable.

He trained martial arts in the morning, studied medical books and pharmacopoeia at noon, practiced calligraphy in the afternoon.

This tight, orderly schedule occupied most of his day; only at night did he have time to rest.

But Qi Xiu didn’t feel tired.

He could see his skills improving, day by day, and each enhancement was tangible.

His body changed, his knowledge accumulated.

The feeling was intoxicating, impossible to resist.

Were it not for his body’s limitations, Qi Xiu would happily train twenty-four hours a day without pause.

...

Dew dripped gently from the leaves in the courtyard, soaking into the earth at dawn.

Standing in the middle of the yard, Qi Xiu squatted on his knees, palms hovering, sinking his energy into his dantian, head raised to gaze at the blazing sun, hanging high in the sky, illuminating all things.

The morning sun, though not as dazzling as noon, was still too bright for ordinary eyes.

Yet at this moment, Qi Xiu stared at it unblinking, as invisible tendrils of golden energy slowly seeped into his pupils.

He fixed his gaze on the sun for a full quarter-hour.

Only when his eyes ached and swelled did Qi Xiu close them, retrieve a yellow gourd containing the secret medicine, and drip two drops into his eyes.

The discomfort faded under the medicine’s effects.

Slowly opening his eyes, Qi Xiu’s pupils flashed with a faint trace of gold.

He summoned his proficiency panel.

Calligraphy (Second Stage): 29.3%

Black Sand Palm (First Stage): 59.2%

Swallow Flight (First Stage): 33%

Sun-Gazing Spirit-Strengthening Method (First Stage): 9.6%

Culinary Arts: 57.2%

Alchemy: 88.5%

Remote Acupoint Striking: 73%

...

Five days ago, at noon, the Sun-Gazing Spirit-Strengthening Method broke through to the first stage.

Compared to the fierce force of Black Sand Palm, or the agility and hovering movement of Swallow Flight, the improvement brought by the Sun-Gazing Spirit-Strengthening Method was far more ethereal and mysterious.

First, at the first stage, Qi Xiu’s eyesight became much stronger.

He could now track the flight paths of flies and mosquitoes, and even see clearly in the deep, dark night.

But the most puzzling improvement came with a cryptic phrase:

“When the sun rises in the eyes, one can see spirits and ghosts.”

When this thought surfaced in his mind, Qi Xiu’s first reaction was: Is this martial arts training turning me into someone with a yin-yang eye?

For the next few days, he felt inexplicably nervous, afraid he might glimpse something indescribably terrifying.

But in reality, after several days, he saw nothing—except for the stray cats on the roof howling in heat.

“To see spirits and ghosts, there must be spirits and ghosts in this world for me to see.”

He finished his daily cultivation as usual.

By evening, after bathing, Qi Xiu lay in his newly purchased rocking chair, engrossed in a copy of “Collected Annotations of Universal Benevolence Prescriptions.”

Besides enhancing his eyesight, the Sun-Gazing Spirit-Strengthening Method greatly replenished his spirit.

The most direct effect was that he now needed only four or five hours of sleep per night to feel fully rested the next day.

So, he used the extra hours at night to study medical texts.

For alchemy, this free and highly practical skill, Qi Xiu was quite attentive.

The rustling of pages continued deep into the night.

As the oil in the lamp waned, Qi Xiu pinched his nose, about to get up and rest, when he casually glanced into the courtyard.

That glance startled him.

A hazy, phantom-like figure stood in the yard, its appearance unclear. Yet, somehow, Qi Xiu could distinctly feel “it” smiling at him.

“What is that?”

With three martial arts under his belt and the [镇] character as insurance, Qi Xiu was no longer as fearful of the bizarre as before.

He opened the main hall door, frowning as he tried to see the phantom more clearly.

Suddenly, the eerie figure let out a chilling “cluck-cluck” laugh and drifted away.

Sensing a trace of unease, Qi Xiu quickly returned inside, grabbed his hundred-faced mask, transformed himself into a burly man dressed in black, and leapt after the strange apparition.

Elsewhere.

Daoist Wu, meditating in the Qian family’s back courtyard, and Jin Tai of the Tai Bao Sect, resting in Spring Guest Inn, both opened their eyes at the same instant, their expressions grave.

“Demonic aura? A ghost slave?”

...