Chapter 68: Listen to the Thunder Inside Me

Gurgling gurgling gurgling!!!

In the courtyard stood a small table, with an iron pot on an electromagnetic stove simmering herbal medicine.

The bubbling sound and that bitter, murky scent had been drifting for over half an hour.

This was Fang Jun’s home.

According to him, the sanatorium had been busy lately, and since Yin Fengxin’s case was so unusual, treatment mainly depended on Chu Tianshu anyway—it was more convenient for him to stay here.

A three-story house with a courtyard, located in a small fishing village.

But the environment was far better than where Yin Fengxin had lived before.

Local housing was scarce; just outside, everywhere were tidal flats and ponds, said to be used for pearl oyster farming, with trees planted mostly along the pond edges.

Green water, blue trees, a gentle sea breeze.

But Fang Jun wore a grim expression.

“I’m starting to regret this.”

He sat beside the table, staring at the iron pot.

“If I have to boil this medicine every day for another ten days, my house will be permanently soaked in the smell.”

Chu Tianshu stood beside a large cardboard box, flipping through an instruction manual, and replied casually: “Then let’s move somewhere else?”

Fang Jun sighed: “Forget it—we’re already here.”

He called this place his home, but it held little trace of daily life.

It felt as if, aside from the garage and bedroom, every other piece of furniture had remained exactly as it was when first bought, unchanged for years.

He often didn’t come home while working cases, and even during leisure time, he ate out.

“Still, your house looks pretty old.”

Chu Tianshu glanced at the iron railings around the courtyard.

The tops of the railings were shaped like spearheads, coated in black paint, but parts had peeled away, revealing patches of rust.

Fang Jun said: “This was left by my biological parents. When I was young, something happened at home—all the old furniture was destroyed, and the walls were blackened by smoke.”

“When I grew up, I renovated the interior, but the courtyard wasn’t badly damaged, so I left it as is.”

Chu Tianshu understood: “I figured—if it had been given to you by your adoptive father, it wouldn’t be such an old courtyard.”

Shhhhlalala!!

Fang Jun split his hands apart, bending the entire deck of cards with his palms, as the cards slid one by one from his right hand to his left.

The afterimages of the cards stretched open like an accordion in his hands.

“My parents used to work for Uncle Nie. He was sentimental, so he adopted me—and there were over a dozen others like me.”

Fang Jun said, “Being raised by him and taught cultivation methods was already a great fortune—I dare not ask for more.”

He closed the deck of cards and changed the subject.

“How’s your equipment research coming along?”

Chu Tianshu also closed the manual and replied confidently: “Fine—it’s idiot-proof.”

Chu Tianshu placed his palm on the corner of the cardboard box and exerted a sharp shake.

The Immortal Force tore along the box’s edges.

Puff!!

When he lifted his hand, the top of the box flew off, and the corrugated cardboard walls collapsed outward in all four directions.

There sat a device, half a person’s height and three feet wide, resting on a thick foam pad.

Its surface was painted cold white, with a display screen, red and green dials, and multiple buttons on the front.

On the back, dozens of thin black wires extended, each ending in coin-sized adhesive patches.

This was the electric shock training device!

Chu Tianshu had previously wanted to use artificial electricity to assist cultivation, so he inquired whether similar equipment was available on the market.

Turns out, the local Special Capture Bureau had several units.

Sometimes used internally for muscle training—using electrical signals to enhance muscular resistance to pressure and reduce fatigue.

Occasionally, they were also used to extract information from special prisoners.

Attach the patches to the prisoner’s head, adjust the stimulation intensity, and combine it with mental pressure—very effective for interrogation.

Chu Tianshu picked up the device’s power plug, ready to insert it into the extension cord.

“Wait a minute.”

Fang Jun quickly said, “That extension cord already powers the electromagnetic stove and now your device—it’s probably unsafe.”

“Take it back inside and plug it directly into a wall socket.”

Chu Tianshu thought it made sense, straightened the cord, picked up the device with both hands, and walked inside.

As he entered the living room, he faintly heard TV sounds from upstairs.

“I wield my steel whip and strike you…”

“I’ll beat you to death, you damn turtle!!”

It was ATV broadcasting The Reign of Yongzheng.

When Chu Tianshu first arrived, he gave Yin Fengxin a round of acupuncture.

But he only slept about six hours before he couldn’t fall asleep again.

Chu Tianshu didn’t force him—he talked with him a while, reminding him that coming here was for relaxation.

Yet sleep eluded him, and Yin Fengxin couldn’t think of any other way to relax.

Car rides, fine food, scenic views, bars, amusement parks—all failed to interest him.

In the years since graduation, his life had been nothing but overtime work and returning home to eat, then collapsing into bed.

His only entertainment was watching videos on his company computer—serious or not—and transferring them to his phone to watch when he had free time.

So Chu Tianshu simply let him watch TV.

“He really loves watching TV.”

Fang Jun followed him in. “I thought he’d at least accept suggestions like car rides or fine dining—he never even showed interest in food over TV.”

Chu Tianshu placed the device down and said casually: “It’s low-cost, accessible to everyone, easy to form a habit, and there really are many good TV dramas.”

Back home, during the years when his medicine’s effects were stable, he’d often watched TV too.

Fang Jun pondered: “If you can’t cure him, do you think he might become a ghost?”

After death, most souls dissipate and return to heaven and earth.

Whether one becomes a ghost depends on luck.

Generally speaking, ordinary people have a higher chance of becoming ghosts than cultivators.

Martial artists harmonize body and spirit—their physical forms are strong, so when the body perishes, the soul suffers greater damage.

Those with spirit perception, who’ve interfered with reality through mental power during life, accumulate too many entanglements; without the body as a protective shell, their souls scatter faster, pulled apart by these entanglements.

Chu Tianshu mused: “With his entanglement to the malevolent spirit, he’ll likely perish alongside it—low chance of becoming a ghost.”

“Not necessarily,” Fang Jun said. “At the moment of true death, when the soul leaves the body, there’s immense resentment.”

“If he can erupt at that moment and swallow the malevolent spirit whole, we can use ghost-nurturing methods to contain him and help him slowly purify the malevolent energy.”

Chu Tianshu asked: “You know ghost-nurturing?”

Spirits that fall into the spirit realm, once transformed into ghosts, lose most of their former personalities due to the realm’s cruel, dangerous environment—only a few traits remain.

Thus, spirit-realm ghosts tend toward bloodthirsty cruelty.

And those that don’t fall into the spirit realm but form in the mortal world and get trapped aren’t any better.

Ghosts are pure yin; the mortal world is full of yang. Those weaker than them trigger their hunger for consumption; those stronger than them cause them discomfort.

Even if someone uses talismans to nurture them, it’s not sustainable—so long as the talisman’s owner is alive, they carry yang energy.

Thus, ghost-nurturing techniques have never been accepted by orthodox paths—nearly ninety percent lean toward dark arts.

“Many in the gambling world know such methods. Playing cards originated from Western tarot cards; each suit and image—king, queen, goddess—carries symbolic meaning.”

“Just like Chinese folklore tales of ghosts hidden in paintings, these objects are naturally suited for nurturing ghosts.”

Fang Jun recounted a gambling legend.

“Once, a very famous elder’s wife was murdered. Her soul attached itself to a cassette tape, using her last shred of consciousness to reveal the truth and guide him to revenge.”

“The elder gathered his most talented disciple in mental power, and together they used their minds to melt seven precious stones and the cassette tape, recasting them into a single golden playing card to preserve his ghostly wife.”

“It’s said his wife still accompanies him today, able to manifest through the TV and converse with others.”

Amazing—using a TV to let a ghost communicate normally with ordinary people.

It’s indeed a good way to isolate yin and yang energies.

But no one knew exactly how it was done.

And surely, that elder’s TV screen cracked often.

Chu Tianshu listened, then smiled: “Fine—even if we likely won’t need it, having a backup plan doesn’t hurt.”

Fang Jun said: “This requires special-grade playing cards.”

“I know a few dealers—I’ll contact them these few days to see if they have any ready to sell, or if they can make one from materials—we only need one card.”

Chu Tianshu nodded, plugged in the device, sat on a chair, and began attaching the patches to his wrists and ankles.

If used for muscle training, the patches would be placed on specific muscle groups, with extreme care for safety.

But Chu Tianshu intended to use electricity to train his internal organs, placing the patches on hand and foot acupoints.

The body’s acupoints and meridians mostly correspond to internal organs.

The Hand Taiyin Meridian corresponds to the lungs, the Hand Shaoyin Meridian to the heart, the Foot Yangming Meridian to the stomach, the Foot Shaoyang Meridian to the gallbladder.

The Foot Taiyin, Jueyin, and Shaoyin meridians correspond to the spleen, liver, and kidneys.

Many acupoints beneficial to the internal organs are not located between the chest and abdomen, but on the hands and feet.

Fang Jun watched as he finished attaching the patches and muttered, “You look just like those electric chairs used for torture.”

Once Chu Tianshu entered his cultivation state, he stopped talking much.

He reached out and turned the switch, rotating the dial.

At first, only a faint itching sensation arose on his hands and feet, then gradually came a pulsing in the flesh.

Around the dial were markings, divided into five levels.

For regular muscle training, one rarely uses beyond level two; level three is reserved for interrogating special prisoners; level four can kill; level five can burn the skin and flesh to charcoal.

Chu Tianshu turned the dial to level three and felt a sharp pain.

He paused at this level, withdrew his hands, closed his eyes, placed his arms on the chair’s armrests, sat upright, and entered the state of the Fist Master’s Opening.

Normally, when in the Fist Master’s Opening state, wherever he focused his attention, his force would flow there, and he could hear the sound of blood moving through that area, the subtle shifts of muscle tension and relaxation.

Today, after opening his channels, he suddenly felt as if he were a wooden statue floating in water.

Under the continuous effect of the current, fine control over his body was no longer as effortless as before.

The muscle fibers felt dull and sluggish, lacking their usual vibrant, explosive quality.

The sound of blood flow was drowned out by a pervasive, irritating noise.

That sound was like thousands of centipedes crawling, inducing an inexplicable sense of agitation.

Chu Tianshu silently adjusted his breathing, his chest and abdomen rising and falling, attempting to use his internal organs to generate force and adapt to the current, as the technique instructed.

Toad Palm Thunder, Inner Chapter: Urgent Breathing Method!

First requirement: hear the thunder within your body.

(End of Chapter)