Chapter 37: Arrival at the New Land

Listening to Liu Yunxi’s explanation, Feng Xue wanted to retort, “What nonsense about water and fire herbs generating and restraining each other,” but he had more pressing questions to ask:

“If a spirit ghost absorbs Qi, won’t it turn into a malevolent ghost?”

“That’s not how it works!” Liu Yunxi immediately denied it, then explained:

“Ghosts that drain the vital essence of the living fall into demonic corruption because they forcibly seize it; when the living lose their essence, they shorten their lifespan, and that essence naturally becomes tainted with resentment and karmic evil. When a ghost consumes it, it inevitably suffers the same corruption—just as the soul of a virtuous person, if worshipped through blood sacrifice by certain heretical sects, gradually descends into a demonic deity, let alone those malevolent ghosts who actively harm others to remain in this world.”

“As for spirit ghosts, the fox immortal grandmother never mentioned it, but since you voluntarily extract this Qi—untainted by resentment or karmic evil—the spirit ghost absorbs only a trace of karmic connection, not demonic corruption. After all, even xuan cultivators absorb Qi through their spiritual souls, and they don’t turn demonic, do they? But conversely, I’ve heard some xuan cultivators steal others’ Qi to accelerate their cultivation; even living beings who do this for long eventually fall into demonic corruption.”

“That’s good.” Feng Xue nodded, exhaling in relief—so long as he didn’t corrupt the spirit ghost, he didn’t care about demonic cultivators. His pitiful spiritual soul couldn’t even consume the Qi he produced himself; there was no point in targeting others’ Qi.

As the sky darkened further, Feng Xue’s drowsiness returned. He chatted idly with Liu Yunxi, then drifted back into sleep.

…

“Haaah~~” With a huge yawn, Feng Xue awoke slowly to morning light filtering through the tent. He crawled out of his sleeping bag, swiftly organized his clothes, then opened the tent.

Since it was off-season, the villagers hadn’t risen early, and Feng Xue paid it no mind. He packed up the tent and returned it to the Hu Tian Bag, then prepared to continue his journey.

Since he could lock the [Spirit-Attaching Spell] cultivation perk, Feng Xue hadn’t practiced on the road; focusing solely on riding his bike, he overturned far less often. By noon, a county town far larger than Pingan County appeared before his eyes.

“Finally arrived!”

Before Feng Xue could speak, the white snake beat him to it. Feng Xue sighed and tapped the bicycle bell. Liu Yunxi immediately said:

“I need to cultivate too! You want a bike you don’t have to pedal, right? Hurry up and rent a house in town—we can cultivate properly! By the way, what’re we eating for lunch? My new skills are rusty; buy some vegetables so I can practice!”

“...” Feng Xue felt deeply conflicted by Liu Yunxi’s unusual behavior, but he did intend to find a stable place to cultivate seriously. He kicked the pedals hard twice and sped toward the city gate bearing the three large characters: “Lu Cheng County.”

Compared to the bustling port city, Lu Cheng County felt far calmer. Though not as serene as Pingan County, at least he saw no ragged beggars huddled on the streets.

The main road into town was wide, lined with street vendors. Feng Xue picked a restaurant called “Ding Feng Zhai,” booked a small private room, and ordered a four-dish, one-soup meal worth forty wen.

Only when the traditional-dressed waiter announced the food was ready did Feng Xue suddenly stop him:

“Waiter, I’ve got a question for you!”

“Sir… ask away, ask anything!” The waiter turned with a frown, but when he saw the copper coins Feng Xue slapped on the table, his eyes lit up and his tone grew respectful.

“Nothing complicated—I just want to know where the broker’s office is in Lu Cheng County, which deity they worship, and where the rice shops and money lenders are.”

Feng Xue’s question was half a coded phrase. In ancient times, many places had odd side businesses: fabric shops often linked to gambling dens, loans required temple intermediaries, and if you sought a spirit medium or Daoist priest, you asked the rice shop.

As for “worshipping the wealth deity,” it meant: “Who must you offer tribute to if you want to do business here?”—in other words, who held power in the local underworld and officialdom.

He hadn’t used this in Pingan County because he thought the other world might not follow such customs. But when he learned spirit mediums there also had to ask rice shops, he realized this system still held.

Still, this question didn’t always yield answers—after all, the person you asked might not know. But a clerk at a major shop would surely know. If even he didn’t, it meant the place was “clear skies and pure air.”

Clearly, the waiter understood. His eyes darted, then he said:

“In our Lu Cheng, we worship the Proper Wealth Deity. The broker’s office is straight down East Street. There are five rice shops—glutinous, japonica, and sorghum rice all available. Right north of our inn is a century-old establishment; you’ll pass it in a hundred steps. As for money lenders… depends on your trust. If you believe in foreigners, there’s a foreign temple in Chengnan. But if you want an old-established name, go outside the city to Mingju Tan and find Tianfu Temple.”

“A mix of good and bad… but no criminal gangs, at least.” Feng Xue nodded, pushed the copper coins forward. The waiter bowed repeatedly, thanked him, then left the private room with the tip.

Worshiping the Proper Wealth Deity meant the local official power was stable, leaving no room for underworld activity. If you wanted to do business, just go straight through legal channels.

Though he didn’t fully grasp what sorghum, glutinous, and japonica rice represented here, five rice shops at least suggested many xuan cultivators lived here.

The foreign temple and Tianfu Temple were likely the two major centers of faith. As for mortuaries and such, those couldn’t be asked about in a restaurant—later, he could inquire at the broker’s office or rice shops.

With a plan formed, Feng Xue picked up his chopsticks—then felt his fingers tremble slightly.

Seeing Liu Yunxi’s obvious hunger masked by hesitation, Feng Xue smiled faintly. Even if he had to trigger Stockholm syndrome, he’d treat her well occasionally—he wasn’t stingy over something like this. He said:

“You look like a person!”

“Bang!”

“...” Smoke cleared. Liu Yunxi stood across from Feng Xue, looking awkward. Feng Xue merely waved his hand, pointing at the still-steaming dishes:

“Enough. Eat. It’ll get cold!”

“Mm!” With Feng Xue’s permission, Liu Yunxi nodded vigorously. Ignoring the single set of bowls and chopsticks, she extended two slender strands from the delicate embroidery on her sleeve—they hardened into rigid rods and darted across the table. Still, she showed restraint: though she ate quickly, she only touched the half facing her, never interfering with Feng Xue’s portion.

Watching her ever-shifting primordial artifact, Feng Xue couldn’t help but envy it. He finally blurted:

“How did you cultivate this primordial artifact? Can humans learn it?”

Hearing the question, Liu Yunxi paused, then said with surprise:

“Aren’t you already cultivating yours?”

About side jobs: it’s interesting how rice shops serve as intermediaries for spirit mediums—that’s one origin of the term “wen mi” (ask for rice). (Glutinous rice suppressing zombies is a Hong Kong film invention; “wen mi” originally meant placing a bowl of rice—sometimes with an egg—before the spirit during invocation. Due to overlapping traditions, it’s now hard to determine whether rice was placed to advertise rice shops or because rice was ritually required, so they simply offered services there.)

To find a freelance courtesan, you go to the broker’s office—why? Not because of human traffickers, but because freelance courtesans typically rented rooms, and brokers had to know your purpose before renting. So brokers knew where the courtesans lived.

Besides money lenders, temples were also financial hubs—everyone’s heard that. But few know the phrase “run away from the monk but not the temple” meant you could still withdraw money from the temple even if the monk fled. Even more interesting: if you wanted to inquire about money lenders or loans, you asked, “What precious temples are here?” But if you wanted to know which temples or Daoist shrines were spiritually potent, you asked, “Where are the money lenders here?” (Of course, asking this way usually implied a hidden reason—like committing a crime and hoping to escape punishment by becoming a monk.)





(End of Chapter)