Chapter Thirty: Stealing the Elixir

Night had fallen. After their bath, all the monsters drifted into slumber, sinking into deep dreams. Midnight had passed but the hour of the ox had not yet arrived when Six-Blemishes, who appeared to be sound asleep, quietly slipped away from his bedding. After a cautious glance about the window, he turned and slipped out, vanishing into the darkness as softly as a shadow.

Tonight, there was something he had to do.

On the day the monsters fought for beds, Tu Zhu had not shown himself in daylight, and at night he only had the soldiers lead them to eat and bathe. Six-Blemishes paid this no mind. The next day, Shi Xingyi came and escorted the monsters back to their quarters, then left. On the third occasion, Jian Keng did the same, and Six-Blemishes did not suspect a thing.

But on the fourth day, Tu Zhu appeared and made the monsters stand, though he did not leave until evening, just like the other two. This pattern continued until the eleventh day, which also marked a new teaching day with Shi Xingyi. That day, he did not appear in the evening but, after the afternoon lessons, sent soldiers to oversee the monsters’ writing and assessment before leading them to eat and return to their barracks.

Six-Blemishes might have dismissed Tu Zhu’s absence as a quirk of character, but when Shi Xingyi behaved the same way, suspicion took root in his heart. Counting the days, he realized that every ten days, the instructors all left early and were absent at night.

There were many possible reasons for such gatherings among the instructors, but the most likely was that they went elsewhere—despite figures like Jian Keng and Tu Zhu holding high standing in the valley, none asserted dominance over the others. It stood to reason there was someone above them all, someone who commanded the entire valley.

Six-Blemishes had not confirmed this at first, nor dared to test it rashly, feeling a measure of hesitation. But a recent conversation with Feng Fei made everything suddenly clear, connecting the scattered pieces in his mind into a coherent whole.

The Ten Stems of Ghost Valley meant there were ten such training grounds within the valley. The valley itself covered tens of thousands of acres, easily enough to house them all, so it was not surprising Six-Blemishes had not noticed. But if there were ten stems, someone must oversee them—this position could not be left vacant.

There were over a thousand monsters at Yan Feng Brigade, with three hundred remaining after attrition. Each stem housed nearly a thousand lesser monsters after eliminations. With such numbers, how could the Great Zhou not station a powerful commander to oversee and suppress the valley? Such a figure must be the master of Ghost Valley, chief among the instructors.

Today was the start of a new ten-day cycle, aligned with the waxing moon.

Tu Zhu’s early departure confirmed Six-Blemishes’ theory. With the instructors away, it was the perfect opportunity to steal the monster cores from the dead and refine his alchemical pills.

The monsters killed in the valley were hung on wooden racks, not because their cores were unwanted—Six-Blemishes had often seen soldiers dissect the corpses and remove the cores, usually the day after death. Today, more than thirty little monsters had died. If he did not act, by morning the soldiers would have taken all the cores for the valley.

Thus, tonight was the best chance—the instructors were away, and even if discovered, their return would take time, giving him ample opportunity to slip back to his quarters. With so many dead monsters tonight, who knew how many there would be next time? If only one or two, the risk would hardly be worth it.

The soldiers in the valley were diligent, patrolling ceaselessly. Though Six-Blemishes was agile, he dared not rely on skill alone. After some thought, he transformed himself into the likeness of a common soldier, someone seen daily, giving himself a margin for error should he be discovered. Only then did he begin to look for an opening.

After days of running, Six-Blemishes had come to understand the valley’s security. There were three main guard posts, along with four patrol squads of five men each, ensuring the safety of the entire Yan Feng Brigade encampment.

The first post was twenty li up the steep road, where a checkpoint blocked the route, manned by a squad of ten. They had signal horns to alert the instructors who would then pursue escapees via flying craft until the fugitives were dead.

The second was at the entrance to the valley, right before the wooden racks—this was the most difficult spot for Six-Blemishes. Another squad of ten was stationed here. Carelessness could mean discovery and the sounding of the copper gong, which would rouse the whole valley.

The third was deeper inside. The Yan Feng Brigade occupied just over a hundred acres; beyond lay cultivated fields, thickets, sloping rocks, and sheer cliffs. To prevent monsters from escaping into the wilderness, two squads of ten guarded this area, with six tall towers and two checkpoints, maintaining a tight defense.

The rest were the patrolling soldiers—two squads near the quarters, two elsewhere—all diligent and vigilant.

Still, as the hours wore on into the shift between midnight and early morning, fatigue crept in among the soldiers, and discipline grew lax. The squad leaders would halt their rounds, choosing a spot to rest for half an hour or so before resuming patrol.

Previously, Six-Blemishes had not suspected monsters among the soldiers. But after hearing Shi Xingyi’s remarks and observing more closely, he noticed that one squad differed slightly in aura—they must be monster-soldiers, as described.

Now, they were indistinguishable from humans.

This was Six-Blemishes’ chance.

At last, he saw two squads settle down to rest. Seizing the opportunity, he slipped from the shadows, moving quickly along blind spots invisible to the soldiers. His keen ears picked up every sound around him, allowing him to avoid running into the other two squads.

This was his other advantage.

Within a quarter of an hour, Six-Blemishes made his way from the monsters’ quarters to the central area where the instructors and soldiers lived, their quarters interspersed. He hid in darkness, listening intently until he was sure all was as it should be, then sprinted toward the entrance.

As he drew near, he listened again, discerning the footsteps of two men and the faint snores of eight others, interspersed with sleep murmurs—deep slumber all around.

Far off, he saw two soldiers pacing atop the checkpoint, weapons in hand.

These were all humans, not monster-soldiers, which made things easier for Six-Blemishes.

Beneath the checkpoint stood the rows of wooden racks where the slain little monsters were hung.

Six-Blemishes was certain that as long as the soldiers did not stray near the edge of the checkpoint tower, they would not see the racks below. The key was to get close. Once across the open ground, stealing the monster cores would be effortless.

But how to cross with the two guards pacing back and forth?

Six-Blemishes did not hurry. His previous life’s experience reminded him that humans typically relieved themselves every three to four hours. With two on patrol, one would leave every hour or so. It wasn’t yet the hour of the ox, so he had time to wait for one to leave. When the remaining guard turned his back, he could dart in and steal the cores.

After less than half an hour, he heard one soldier say, “Nature calls.” The other simply grunted, continuing his pacing.

Six-Blemishes seized the moment and darted from his hiding place like lightning, reaching the racks in a few breaths. He began extracting the monster cores from the corpses. After the third core, he heard the patrolling soldier turn; after the seventh, the first returned.

He dared not slow down, knowing that humans often acted in concert—if one mentioned hunger, the other might suddenly notice his own emptiness. Left unmentioned, they might never realize.

As a former assassin, Six-Blemishes was well-versed in such matters.

Sure enough, after he had extracted five more cores, the other soldier said, “Fine, I’ll go too.”

The first laughed, “Why didn’t you say so earlier? We could have gone together.”

The second replied, “That wouldn’t do. The wall can’t be left unmanned. Even if I’d wanted to go, I had to wait for you to return before I could go myself.”

With that, he left his weapon behind and walked inside, speaking as he went. The first soldier chuckled and continued his patrol.

Six-Blemishes had gathered twelve monster cores, not quite half the total, but he did not hesitate. He quickly stowed the cores in his gourd, darted back to the grass to hide, and retraced his steps. In moments, he was back outside his quarters. He slipped inside and lay quietly on his bed.

The mission had gone so smoothly that he had to suppress his excitement. He conjured the demon-refining gourd in his mind and began refining the cores into elixirs and energy pills, pairing them two at a time.

It took until the sound of drums at dawn for all twelve cores to be refined: four became elixirs, two energy pills, the rest left for later. He dared not consume them then and decided to wait until evening.

That day, Shi Xingyi taught again, but only half the day was spent on writing. For the other half, he ordered a corpse of a little monster, dead since yesterday, to be brought forth.

Having stolen the cores the night before, Six-Blemishes felt uneasy when he saw the corpse, unsure what to expect. Nevertheless, he showed no sign of fear, focusing intently on Shi Xingyi’s lecture.

No mention was made of the missing cores. Instead, Shi Xingyi had the monsters gather round, took a short dagger, and began dissecting the corpse, removing each organ one by one, explaining as he went.

“This is the heart, ruler of the five viscera and six bowels. Wounding it means certain death. Occasionally, some demons have more than one heart—two, three, even four—but remember this: birds and beasts have only one. Any creature with more must belong to the scaly, feathered, or insect tribes—or even plants, trees, and vines…”

So it went, point by point, each organ’s function and the various injuries that might befall them, explained with exhaustive detail. Six-Blemishes, hearing the soldiers’ conversation, realized that Shi Xingyi, though a teacher of letters in the valley, was actually a skilled physician.

Six-Blemishes was familiar with human anatomy, but had assumed monsters to be much the same. Watching now, he realized how wrong he was—while many monsters had hearts, livers, spleens, lungs, and kidneys, their positions, shapes, and numbers varied greatly. Those transformed from birds and beasts were closer to the norm, but those from trees or insects were as alien as creatures from another world.

As the monsters grew increasingly absorbed in the lesson, a man appeared, whispering urgently in Shi Xingyi’s ear. His face instantly clouded. Summoning his attendant, he issued brief instructions and departed with the messenger.

Six-Blemishes’ sharp ears caught every word. The report, as expected, concerned the missing monster cores. Having anticipated this, he betrayed no sign and instead focused on what the attendant was distributing.

When Shi Xingyi arrived at the quarters, Jian Keng and Tu Zhu were already there. The soldiers answered to them, so their arrival was only natural.

Jian Keng’s face was grim; Tu Zhu seemed his usual self, even joking with Shi Xingyi, “Already started dissecting? Please be thorough this time—last time I had to kill one myself to show them what you missed.”

Shi Xingyi forced a wry smile, not replying, and turned to Jian Keng. “How many are missing?”

“Eleven or twelve, I believe,” Jian Keng replied coldly. “I want to summon the soldiers immediately and have the three of us search the beds and clothing ourselves.”

Shi Xingyi hesitated, but Tu Zhu yawned lazily, covering his mouth, “Oh, just a dozen monster cores—does it really warrant such fuss? True, we use them in our cultivation, but a handful more or less hardly matters.”

“Nonsense!” Jian Keng shot Tu Zhu a glare, his tone grave. “The loss of a few cores is trivial, but the rules of the valley matter greatly. If we don’t find and punish the thief, it reflects our negligence, breeding criminals and betraying the trust of the valley master. And if this continues, will it remain just a matter of a few dozen?”

Shi Xingyi understood. For men like Jian Keng and Tu Zhu, aside from the favor of the valley master, the only thing of value was the elixirs refined from monster cores. While these elixirs did not compare to the rarest treasures of heaven and earth, their abundance was their strength. A few missing at a time was nothing, but if left unchecked, the consequences could be dire.