Chapter 359: Born to Be Ox and Horse (Combined Three Parts)

Xu Yuan silently filled Senior Shen’s pipe with tobacco and handed him the pipe bowl.

Senior Shen lit it and drew a deep breath—

It was hard to pull.

That boy Xu Yuan really is honest—he packed too much tobacco in.

But Senior Shen didn’t mind.

Every household in River Worker Alley were once leaders of the uprising.

Those who rose above hundreds of thousands must have been extraordinary individuals.

That rebellion might be recorded in history with only a dozen or so characters.

The local reports to the court were equally dismissive.

Yet in reality, its scale was immense.

The families in River Worker Alley endured hardship together; the Xu family had long agreed with all others: one child per lineage.

For example, if a family had two sons, only one stayed in River Worker Alley; the others could leave to forge their own paths.

But every household shared an unspoken rule: the child who remained must be the one with the highest talent.

After generations, though fewer people lived in the alley, their talent and skill had only grown higher!

In the outside world, mid-to-low-tier Alchemists were rare.

But in the alley, they were not uncommon.

Outside, when ascending to the Fifth Tier, one implants the “True Seed” into the Inner Elixir, achieving initial fusion at roughly half a percent.

This depends not only on the Alchemist’s innate talent, but also on the compatibility between the True Seed and the Alchemist, and the quality of the True Seed itself.

The higher the initial fusion, the greater the success.

For an Alchemist, this means saving considerable time at the Fifth Tier level.

Naturally, it opens up a broader future.

In River Worker Alley, the average initial fusion rate is two percent.

When Wang Shen was young, it was two and a half percent.

Don’t underestimate Xu Yuan’s half-percent improvement.

The elders of the alley had long agreed: Wang Shen’s level was already the absolute limit of a genius Alchemist.

Any achievement beyond that limit is greatness!

That’s why Senior Shen was so moved.

Even when mocked by Wang Shen, he didn’t care.

Though the tobacco was packed too tightly and hard to draw, he didn’t blame Xu Yuan—he saw it as the boy’s filial devotion, giving him something real.

All because… Senior Shen faintly felt he had made the wisest decision in River Worker Alley’s history!

His “old-man-arrogance” decision to let Xu Yuan join family affairs had once filled him with unease.

But now… Xu Yuan might truly solve the problem left by our ancestors!

Before Senior Shen finished his pipe, Lin Wanmo had already prepared the meal and brought it out.

Xu Yuan saw it was all his favorite dishes, and couldn’t help smiling.

Everyone shared another meal together.

During the meal, Xu Yuan quietly asked Uncle Mao: “Does my Aunt Wang have some special ability?”

Uncle Mao’s face turned guilty at the mention of “Aunt Wang”; he stuffed his mouth full of rice and mumbled, “What? I don’t know. Why ask me?”

Xu Yuan rolled his eyes. “The Great Fortune she gave me is unusual—I want to find a chance to ask her about its origins.”

Uncle Mao stayed silent and ate even harder.

But his usually honest, dull eyes darted nervously.

Xu Yuan said: “When the time comes, Uncle, come with me.”

“I won’t go…” Uncle Mao mumbled through his rice; the “no” was barely audible.

After the meal, Senior Shen finished the half-pipe of tobacco, then walked off with his hands behind his back, delighted.

He specifically reminded Xu Yuan: “Before you leave, come see me.”

“Got it.” Xu Yuan never bowed to elders.

What elders give, one never refuses.

After dark, Xu Yuan washed the dishes and returned to find his stepmother locked in her room again.

Xu Yuan knocked: “Lin Wanmo.”

His stepmother opened the door; Xu Yuan handed her the fabric he’d saved: “Handle it as you wish. Keep whatever you need.”

Lin Wanmo glanced at the fabric, her eyes flickered, then she took it all.

Xu Yuan was about to gently urge her, but she waved her hand and slammed the door shut.

Xu Yuan sighed, shook his head, and went to sleep.

Great Fortune was outside in the courtyard, flipping bricks along the drainage ditch, hunting for insects.

As he flipped, he overturned a stone slab.

Below, a gurgle rose like a bubble surfacing—out crawled a demon with a rat’s head and a snake’s body!

Great Fortune froze.

The demon was paralyzed with fear.

I finally slipped into the courtyard—and what did I run into?!

Great Fortune didn’t like eating this thing.

And since seeing countless giant rats outside the Witch Cook’s “Cooked Aroma,” Great Fortune now felt sick at anything resembling a rat.

It spat a glob of saliva at it.

The demon visibly fell ill—and died instantly.

Its corpse tumbled back into the ditch.

From Xu Yuan’s window, a spark of flame flew out, landed on the corpse, and in an instant, burned it to ash.

Xu Yuan scolded Great Fortune: “Don’t spit randomly ever again!”

That corpse, crawling with disease, fell into the ditch—tomorrow morning, everyone in Qihetai Town would be dead.

Great Fortune shook its head, eyes glazed over.

It heard—or didn’t hear.

It had neatly flipped the ditch’s edge, but it only barely filled its belly.

Its appetite had become enormous.

Fortunately, it had eaten well in Ghost Witch Mountain a few days ago.

Great Fortune curled up under the eaves and soon fell asleep.

Xu Yuan slept too.

At midnight, his stepmother rose, lit an incense stick for her Master, then sat silently before the spirit tablet for hours.

She thought deeply.

…

The next day was New Year’s Eve.

Since eating the June Insect, months had passed—this was the first truly idle day Xu Yuan had known.

Everything followed tradition as always.

The small Shanhe County was filled with festive cheer.

Xu Yuan rose early and invited Wang Shen and the others over.

The small courtyard buzzed with laughter.

Then Xu Yuan left the alley and arrived at another courtyard gate.

Far off, he saw a brilliant, colorful rooster standing proudly atop the gate, fluffing its feathers and surveying the scene.

Xu Yuan chuckled: “Ah Hua!”

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!” Ah Hua crowed twice, as if saying, I remember you.

Xu Yuan knocked: “Grandma Ying, open up!”

Grandma Ying, long unseen, shuffled out, squinting—her eyesight had clearly dimmed.

“Xu Yuan.”

“Grandma, come to my place for New Year’s—we’ll all celebrate together.”

“No need…” Grandma Ying refused, yet lifted her arm slightly, making it easy for Xu Yuan to support her—she was “forcing” him to invite her home.

Xu Yuan glanced into the courtyard—it was piled high with things.

Grandma Ying’s hoarding habit remained unchanged.

Useless or useful, she’d collected a mountain of it.

Ah Hua leapt down from the gate and followed Xu Yuan.

It had clearly forgotten Great Fortune the dog.

Inside the courtyard, the two birds immediately glared at each other, flared their wings, and assumed a “fight to the death” stance!

Grandma Ying rushed to grab Ah Hua; Senior Shen seized Great Fortune by the neck.

Xu Yuan faintly felt he had just discovered something.

But as the two birds clashed, Xu Yuan calmly released his Muscle-Elixir.

The beast-tendon rope fell in the center of the courtyard, stretching sideways until it reached the courtyard walls.

Like a “boundary,” it split the courtyard in two.

Ying Taipo and Shen Daye didn’t understand what purpose this served.

Then, the beast-tendon rope suddenly wove itself rapidly into a large net, blocking the middle of the courtyard.

Ying Taipo and Shen Daye’s eyes lit up; they each released Ah Hua and Da Fu.

The two birds began shouting insults at each other across the net.

But the net had fine mesh—and it wasn’t flat.

It was layered, tangled, and thick as a palm.

Both birds had wings and tried to fly over the net.

But when they flew higher, the net rose with them.

When they landed, the net sank with them.

Ah Hua and Da Fu had no choice; after a while of shouting, they grew bored and fell silent.

Transforming the beast-tendon rope into this three-dimensional net was Xu Yuan’s inspiration, drawn from the “Net-Wu” state during his ascent to Fifth-Rank Dan Xiu.

Xu Yuan speculated that the three “Wu” were the embodied manifestations of his three destiny patterns, on some fundamental level of cosmic origin or rule.

But it didn’t seem that simple.

The “Net-Wu” corresponded to “Eight-Direction Harmful Stars,” suggesting something more like the complex interconnections between things, events, and so on.

Xu Yuan couldn’t yet fathom the intricate mysteries within, but he had gained something—he could now mimic that “net” using the beast-tendon rope.

The beast-tendon rope could once only coil and bind; now it had more, stronger uses.

Then, Ying Taipo and Shen Daye walked into the house together, smiling.

On this New Year’s Day, Lin Wanmo had truly pulled out all the stops, preparing a lavish feast.

Xu Yuan ate until his belly was round and full; Mao Sishu had a hearty appetite.

Xu Yuan secretly thought: Should I tell Mao Sishu later, “My Aunt Wang is alone in Miaopocun, lonely and unaccompanied during the holidays…”

Would he instantly lose all appetite?

Hehehe.

Xu Yuan and Mao Sishu were the ones who ate the most at the table.

So there was plenty of food left, all given to Ah Hua and Da Fu.

Both of them loved eating insects, especially malevolent ones.

Ordinary household meals were beneath their notice.

But what Lin Wanmo prepared today, they devoured happily.

The malevolent spirits inside and outside the city also showed respect today, staying hidden.

Perhaps because… since morning, children in the city had been setting off firecrackers now and then.

By evening, firecrackers erupted throughout the city.

This traditional activity, said to drive away the Nian beast, suddenly regained real power in this age.

Ordinary malevolent spirits did indeed fear the loud crack of firecrackers.

But it only worked to drive them away.

For common folk, buying a string of firecrackers was a luxury reserved for New Year’s.

So while useful against malevolent spirits, this method was too costly for daily use.

Xu Yuan also prepared food and visited four other households in the alley, inviting Uncle Chen, Aunt Zhou, and others to share the New Year’s Eve meal.

Before joining the Purification Office, he had come once before.

Back then, he thought he wouldn’t make it back for the holiday.

Now that he was back, he might as well have another meal.

Xu Yuan spoke his heart to the elders.

He asked them, if they got the chance, to help persuade his stepmother.

Aunt Zhou said nothing; Uncle Chen agreed.

…

On the first day of the New Year, Xu Yuan left home and returned to Zhan City.

Xu Yuan’s holiday lasted only New Year’s Eve and the first day of the New Year.

He had to report for duty on the second day, so he had to return early today.

Wang Shen wasn’t in a hurry to leave.

The people from San Niang’s group were staying with her in Shanhe County.

His stepmother hadn’t finished processing the fine fabrics Xu Yuan brought back.

Once the crafted items were done, Wang Shen could carry them to him.

Not long after Xu Yuan left, the former County Captain—now the County Magistrate—arrived in plain clothes, accompanied by four servants carrying gifts, to pay his respects to Master Xu.

He missed him.

The County Magistrate, filled with regret, exchanged a few brief words with Lin Wanmo, insisted on leaving the gifts, and departed.

Since the Chen family had been prosecuted by the Purification Office, Xu Yuan had become the highest-ranking official currently serving outside the city.

The former County Captain’s promotion to Magistrate had been sheer luck.

He had no powerful patrons and desperately wanted to cling to a strong leg.

…

Xu Yuan traveled alone, with a horse but no character-tickets.

So he rode all morning and still hadn’t reached Zhan City.

“I have literary cultivators under me—I’ll make sure they produce more character-tickets.” Xu Yuan silently decided.

Writing character-tickets was a form of cultivation for literary cultivators.

“So I’m not exploiting my subordinates—I’m pushing them to improve!”

“It’s pure paternal devotion!”

Lin Wanmo had packed Xu Yuan some dried rations; he loosened the reins, let the horse trot a while, passed between two earthen mounds, circled a grove of camphor trees, and ahead, not far along the road, lay a small village.

Smoke curled gently upward; roosters crowed and dogs barked in the distance.

A few water buffaloes wandered through the fields, stepping leisurely over the ridges, turning their ears to the sky and letting out long, low moos.

At the village entrance stood a humble tea stall—no building, just a thatched shelter.

A long bamboo pole outside the entrance held up a triangular cloth banner.

On it was written a large “Tea” character.

Along the road, many such tea stalls offered rest and meals to travelers.

Ordinary travelers paid three cash for a bowl of hot tea, then tore their own bread or cakes into pieces and soaked them in it.

They could rest awhile too.

If a caravan passed, the stall could also serve simple freshly prepared food.

Prices were far cheaper than in the city.

Xu Yuan spurred his horse and soon arrived at the tea stall.

He assumed the stall wouldn’t be open on New Year’s Day.

But from afar, he saw a middle-aged woman in faded, washed-out coarse cloth, her waist tied with an apron, already stepping out to wave: “Sir, rest a while—we have fresh noodles, pickled vegetables, and cured meat.”

She had large, round, jet-black, glistening eyes, gazing at Xu Yuan with eager hope.

Xu Yuan dismounted, but only said: “One bowl of tea.”

The woman was disappointed; seeing a rider, she’d thought he was wealthy.

“Just tea? Nothing else?”

Xu Yuan waved his hand: “One bowl of tea is enough. Also, feed my horse—add extra beans.”

“Yes, sir, come inside.”

Xu Yuan entered the tea stall; it was empty.

But it was clear the woman was diligent—the tables, chairs, and benches were spotlessly clean.

The floor had been swept.

A row of stoves at the back held kettles; most of the water had boiled, steaming white vapor.

Beside them stood four large water jars, all filled to the brim.

Xu Yuan sighed: Even my Ming officials work hard—on New Year’s, even caravans rest, yet I must ride on, alone on this road.

The woman poured a bowl of hot tea and brought it to Xu Yuan.

“Guest, please enjoy. I’ll prepare fodder for your horse.”

She was the only one in the stall, yet remarkably capable.

She carried a bundle of hay to the horse trough and used a cleaver to chop it.

Chik, chik, chik…

Each cut was fine and even.

Then the woman glanced secretly at Xu Yuan; seeing he wasn’t looking, she quietly slipped her little finger beneath the cleaver.

Chik!

A segment of her little finger fell into the hay.

The woman showed no sign of pain, and no blood flowed from the wound.

After cutting the fodder, the woman brought over a large bucket of roasted soybeans and poured in half a bucket at once.

Xu Yuan heard the sound and laughed: “Shopkeeper, you’re too honest—you’ll lose money this way.”

After mixing the fodder, the woman led the horse over.

As the horse ate, she gently stroked its neck and said softly: “These big beasts work hard—they deserve better food.”

Xu Yuan said no more; he would give the shopkeeper extra copper coins later.

Xu Yuan ordered only one bowl of tea, firmly believing his stepmother’s dried rations were tastier than anything these roadside inns could serve.

He ate his dried rations slowly, then downed the large bowl of tea in a few gulps.

Though Dan Xiu had weaker physiques than Wu Xiu, their appetites were nearly equal.

Seventh-rate Dan Xiu were almost all fat.

Because they couldn’t advance further, yet their appetites remained enormous.

Without realizing it, they grew fat.

The horse finished eating; Xu Yuan called out: “Shopkeeper, settle the bill.”

The woman began calculating.

“One bowl of tea is three copper coins, feeding the horse is one, plus ten for the soybeans—that makes…”

She clearly wasn’t good at arithmetic; even this simple addition required her to count on her fingers.

Yet it was strange—she had five fingers on one hand, yet used only two, as if the other three didn’t exist.

With only four fingers usable across both hands, it was clearly insufficient.

The more she counted, the more confused she became; confusion made her anxious.

Several times, her eyes kept darting to her feet—as if she were about to add her toe fingers too.

Xu Yuan suddenly smiled: “I have a set of counting rods—want me to lend them to you?”

The woman beamed: “Yes, quick, lend them! I’ll waive one copper coin for the guest.”

Xu Yuan tossed the five-grade artisan tool—his counting rods—onto the table.

As the woman reached for them, the rods suddenly shot up with a “whoosh,” spinning rapidly around her before each one plunged down and pierced her body.

“Moo—” The woman cried out in pain—but the sound was a cow’s bellow.

Once pinned by the five-grade artisan tool, she could no longer move.

Frantic, she shouted to the horse nearby: “Come help me!”

The horse snorted loudly, ignoring her completely, not even glancing her way.

The woman frowned in confusion: “You ate it… you should’ve awakened by now.”

Xu Yuan raised his hand; a hair-thin rope coiled around her severed fingertip and lifted it up.

“You mean this? It didn’t eat it.”

The woman’s round eyes turned fierce.

Her face changed slightly—still human-looking, but now clearly three or four parts cow.

“How did you figure it out?”

Xu Yuan was speechless: “People who work hard do wear aprons—but yours is tied at the back! Why? To hide your cow’s tail?”

One counting rod sliced through; the apron’s strings parted, and the apron slipped down—revealing a coiled cow’s tail behind her.

The woman’s face flushed crimson.

Xu Yuan didn’t know what to say.

Thinking back to how she’d just counted the bill… she really wasn’t smart.

Xu Yuan pointed farther off, to the several cows still grazing along the field ridge.

They leisurely nibbled wild grass.

Yet not a single cow touched the young rice shoots in the field.

“Even during the New Year, no one would just leave cows in the field like this.”

“Cows are vital assets to farmers—they must be carefully guarded and tended.”

The woman shouted: “That’s just to make us work harder! Not because they care about us!”

She glared at the cows on the ridge, exasperated: “You stubborn fools! Still acting like before—dare not eat a single shoot!”

“The shoots are tender and delicious—far better than wild grass!”

Xu Yuan traced a line on the table—no dust stirred: “Aren’t you the same? You think cows and horses work hard, yet you’ve become a strange creature yourself—and still work just as hard…”

Xu Yuan’s finger pointed one by one at the stove and the water vat.

The woman froze.

She had never noticed this before.

She could never rest—any task she saw, she immediately did.

She hadn’t realized that this tea stall, under her care, was far cleaner and neater than when the original owner ran it.

She deeply hated her former master, who whipped her daily until she was exhausted.

Yet these past days, no one was behind her with a whip… yet she still did just as much work!

How could this be?!

The woman felt the world had collapsed…

Xu Yuan had sensed something odd about the village from afar.

It seemed lively—but lacked human presence.

When he reached the tea stall and saw the woman, he immediately knew something was wrong.

“Where are the villagers?” Xu Yuan asked coldly. “Did you eat them?”

“No!” the woman cried out. “How could I eat them? They never tried to eat me. I put nose rings on them and tied them in the cowshed.”

“Now they farm and feed us.”

“After all, I only know how to plow—farming is still your people’s strength.”

The woman’s expression was one of “obviously”—even her eyes held a faint sneer, as if to say: Do I really have to explain such a simple thing?

Xu Yuan was annoyed—was he being intellectually looked down upon by this stupid cow?!

Master Xu quietly manipulated the counting rods, twisting them twice.

“Moo—” The woman screamed.

This time, the cows on the ridge finally sensed something was wrong. They huddled together, hesitated, then slowly trotted over.

“You turned them all into strange creatures?”

The woman looked troubled: “I gave them pieces of my flesh too. But for some reason, though they changed a little, they can’t transform into humans like I did.”

Xu Yuan snorted and cursed: “Idiot! Because you fed them too little flesh.”

The beast-tendon rope still coiled around the severed fingertip.

The amount was enough to trigger transformation in livestock—but only to a limited degree.

This woman herself was far less “crazy” than ordinary malevolent spirits.

Her flesh contained insufficient yin energy.

This raised a question in Xu Yuan’s mind: What caused her transformation?

It didn’t seem like a normal beast transformation.

“How did you become like this?”

The woman scowled, rolling her round eyes upward as if she hadn’t heard Master Xu’s question.

“You called me stupid—I won’t talk to you!”

Xu Yuan: ???

(End of Chapter)