Chapter 43

The Daoist academy’s guest attendant summoned the fabric shop’s clerk and had him guide the young Master Cui and his companions to the remote mansion where Qian Chen was temporarily staying; Wukang County was not large, and after taking a few detours, they could faintly make out the place.

The old servant frowned and said, “If your lordship seeks to befriend a true lineage of the Daoist sect, you may stop here!”

“This mansion is gloomy and stagnant, incapable of gathering wind and concentrating qi—it is inferior feng shui. I have seen true Daoist lineages before; they cultivate qi, nurture their bodies, and every movement harmonizes with the Dao, like phoenixes—never settling in barren mountains and foul waters. When I was young, I once received a Kunlun disciple with my lady; he passed by our mansion without entering.”

“He merely spent one night on a small hill near Niushou Mountain.”

My lady asked why, and he replied that the Marquis Mansion’s primordial energy was impure… Later, my lady purified herself for seven days, had the entire household bathe and change clothes, and burned incense and abstained from meat for three days before inviting that true lineage down the mountain. Such high Daoists can sense good and evil qi, delight in spiritual energy and abhor turbid qi; to dwell in such abysmal feng shui is like living in a salted fish shop.

“Only some heretical cultivators would reside here!” the old servant earnestly urged. “If your lordship wishes to invite two cultivators as patrons, better to send a letter to my lady and ask her to summon two outer-disciple Daoists from Luofu. Your uncle is an inner-disciple steward of Luofu, wielding great authority—sending two well-known outer-disciples to serve you is but a trivial matter… far better than these unknown outsiders…”

“How can you be so tedious… When traveling, one must make broad connections and seek out the virtuous,” said young Master Cui. “Even if it’s only a common man, if we can converse well, he is worth befriending. If we cannot connect, even a true lineage of a great sect or a scion of a noble house, I have no interest in befriending them… This cultivator befriends foxes—clearly a remarkable person.”

“We must go and pay a visit!”

“Since youth, I have wished to emulate those ancient sages, as recorded in their travelogues—befriending foxes, keeping two noble flowers as literary companions, and in leisure, attending banquets at Long Gong. My primordial spirit would wander the Three Immortal Isles of the Eastern Sea, feasting all night with Daoist friends, plucking flowers at dawn, then riding the Kunpeng to roam the Four Seas…”

“When my lady went out, she warned me that most fox spirits outside steal essence and are impure; if the young master wishes to take in any fox beauties while traveling and ruins his foundation, I am to kill them first before reporting to her,” the old servant said, utterly lacking in romance.

“You!” Young Master Cui angrily raised his index finger and pointed at Wu Bo three times.

He sighed helplessly: “Truly, you don’t understand elegance…”

At this moment, they arrived before the small courtyard, seeing the gatefront overgrown with desolate weeds, a dilapidated sight; the old servant frowned again, but could not resist his master’s nature, stepping forward to knock. Yet at that moment, young Master Cui’s expression changed—he quickly grasped the old servant’s sleeve and exclaimed excitedly: “Who says poor feng shui means no high cultivator?”

“Ah!” young Master Cui suddenly covered his eyes and cried: “This isn’t just a high cultivator—it’s an unparalleled beauty!”

“Stop jumping!” young Master Cui winked, and suddenly a tiny figure as white as jade lifted his eyelid and leapt out from his right eye. The old servant gasped in horror: “A lecherous spirit… who gave your lordship such a minor demon toy? If my lady finds out, she’ll flay you alive!”

Dengtu Zi, the lecherous spirit, is a rare kind of spirit.

Legend says it forms when a lustful man, lost in dreams of a beauty, has his soul depart his body and wander outside, seeking traces of her fragrance.

Over time, it transforms into a spirit of lust—Dengtu Zi, also called the Eye-Dweller. Occasionally, noble youths keep it in their eyes, skilled at discerning beauties; upon seeing a beauty, they may use the spirit’s nature to nourish their vision, known as “nourishing the eyes with beauties.” In Jinjing, the carefree marquises who failed to cultivate used this spirit with beauties to aid their eyesight—so it is said that even at ninety, their vision still discerns freckles and moles on faces.

It can instantly count every flaw and virtue on a beauty’s body, see through thick makeup to reveal her natural face, even perceive her innate aura, the fragrance of her lips, and whether her primordial yin is pure.

Thus, it is prized by wealthy noble youths in the capital; keeping one Dengtu Zi in the eye, even at the cost of ten thousand gold, is commonplace.

Though such spirits have some benefits, they reside within the human body, draining one’s own essence, and indulging in them leads to moral decay and alters one’s nature. Young Master Cui’s mother strictly forbade him from becoming obsessed with such minor arts, yet somehow he had acquired one and kept it in his eye. Upon arriving before Qian Chen’s mansion, the little spirit grew agitated and nearly leapt from his eyelid.

“Such an elegant thing… my mother… you won’t tell her, will you?” young Master Cui exclaimed. “What kind of beauty could make Dengtu Zi leap out so urgently?”

But then they saw the little demon spirit, upon reaching the courtyard gate, hesitate and dare not enter—as if something terrifying blocked the way. It paced left three steps, right two steps, wavering back and forth, gazing longingly into the courtyard yet refusing to advance. Young Master Cui cautiously said: “There must be a prohibition ahead…”

He was about to summon Dengtu Zi, when he looked closer.

From the grasses of the abandoned courtyard came a sharp, urgent cry; soon two tiny children, one in white, one in yellow, no larger than a thumb, emerged and clashed with Dengtu Zi. Together, they drove the little demon back, forcing it to flee in disgrace back into young Master Cui’s eye.

At that moment, young Master Cui saw a clear radiance above the abandoned mansion, like a heavenly net inverted over its roof.

The old servant exclaimed in surprise: “Are those two Golden-Silver Children?”

Young Master Cui glanced briefly, uninterested: “Probably some gold or silver buried underground long ago, having become a spirit. Luoyang, as an ancient capital, has many such spirits; legends say they’re common on Beimang Mountain.”

“Where did you hear that? If such minor demons are common, wouldn’t everyone become rich? These spirits are extremely alert; legend says they can be used to forge spirit coins—rarer even than your eye-dwelling Dengtu Zi,” the old servant protested. “Your lordship could keep one nearby, feeding it copper coins; though small, Golden-Silver Children possess immense strength and bring good fortune…”

“My Dengtu Zi is an elegant thing… gold and silver are too vulgar!” young Master Cui declared confidently. “Lust is universal among men; but those greedy for wealth are not worth befriending!”

“And what is in this courtyard, that such rare spirits have all gathered here?”

In these few breaths, young Master Cui saw a three-inch-tall Zhangliu Child hiding on the locust tree beside the courtyard, also trying to sneak into the abandoned mansion. Just as he was puzzled, a bean-sized figure suddenly appeared in his ear canal and sang: “The Cui clan’s son, Cui Dan, serves as magistrate, knows the Nine Truths. Passing Wukang, he visits a Daoist shrine, hears of a strange man probing this dwelling. Inside, the furnace has burned forty days… one spirit pill worth three hundred thousand!”

Is this an Ear-Path Spirit?

Cui Dan, hearing the little figure call his name, instantly understood. He knew well that Ear-Path Spirits could discern spiritual mysteries and foretell future events—precious spirits sought by sorcerers and diviners; if one could keep such a spirit in the ear, one could sit as a guest among noble houses.

The spirit, seeing he knew its identity, sang again: “Cui’s son, obtain spirit pills—share some with me, and I’ll guide you!”

Cui Dan chuckled inwardly: “Truly a crude demon—its verses are so plain… even less refined than the courtesans in the entertainment quarters. If it can know past and future, why not use more elegant language?”

The moment he thought this, the bean-sized spirit in his ear kicked his eardrum several times; Cui Dan’s head rang, and he staggered dizzily. Wu Bo, alarmed, grabbed Cui Dan’s ear, ready to pull out the little demon. “My lord, let me catch this demon and dry it into a spirit snack!”

The Ear-Path Spirit had already hidden deeper, trembling with fear, nestled in a small hollow beside the eardrum.

“No… Wu Bo, don’t touch it… it says there’s a high cultivator inside brewing pills, and tells us to follow its guidance to beg for two—then give it one in return,” Cui Dan cried, tugging his ear.

Wu Bo was even more astonished: “A high cultivator is brewing pills inside?”

“These spirits have sensed heavenly fate… come here waiting for opportunity?… Bad! Such heavenly secrets leaking out must bring calamity. If even this little demon knows, how can we avoid trouble?”

“And such precious spirit pills—how can we give one to a mere demon?”

“We must offer much to the high cultivator to beg for pills—how can we let this thing simply open its mouth and take the benefit?” Wu Bo pondered a moment. “If someone attacks later, we should assist—perhaps we can gain favor with the high cultivator. But that may not be enough. Ask the Ear-Path Spirit: how can we befriend such an extraordinary person? What is his origin?”

“Only if it proves more useful will it deserve one spirit pill.”

Inside the alchemy chamber, Qian Chen’s mind stirred—he sensed his furnace’s pills were nearly complete, yet mysteriously perceived heavenly fate and misfortune: he had used the underground yin vein beneath this abandoned mansion to refine the pills. Though no one else had noticed this yin vein, it still had subtle qi connections with nearby spirits and demons. There were many buried gold and silver, willow trees, and spirits in the vicinity that had become demons by absorbing the yin earth qi.

By disturbing this yin earth qi, he had unknowingly formed a karmic bond with them.

Of course, Qian Chen need not care—this was no vast yin earth vein that would entangle him with other cultivators and draw external calamities. These minor spirits, even if ignored, had formed only the faintest karmic ties, posing no real threat.

“But… I killed that Mei Mountain heretic disciple—perhaps that too will bring karmic entanglements and trouble.”

“This external calamity of spirit pills is truly vexing. Heaven and Earth’s creation truly does not allow one to take advantage… In the Realm of Rebirth, when carrying out missions, one avoids karmic ties entirely—treasures come easily, clean and unburdened. No worries about aftermath… After all, even if the Twelve Celestial Branches have relatives… could they come to Zhongtu to hunt me down?”

Thinking of this, Qian Chen frowned slightly, recalling the celestial stone bearing a palm print.

This object could draw the attention of the Lord of Rebirth—it was surely no ordinary thing, perhaps even capable of drawing links to Zhongtu.

Within the mysterious gateway, the embryonic golden core gradually reached perfection; even the chaotic qi within had begun to differentiate. As Qian Chen nurtured the embryonic core, he daily gathered qi without pause; his entire body now pulsed with clear, spiritual true qi, flowing like perfectly round beads rolling within him, greatly strengthened. The various celestial and terrestrial energies stored for alchemy were abundant—he estimated he could produce at least sixty pills.

Now, as the embryonic core neared completion, Qian Chen not only had to ensure the golden core emerged successfully, but also, at the very moment of its perfection, shatter the chaos and divide the essence into dozens of refined qi streams, each refined into a spirit pill. It was equivalent to simultaneously refining over a dozen different spirit pills, using the most refined and profound qi-pill method—its difficulty was astonishing.

Ordinary “Alchemy Masters” would never dare attempt it.

Only the Supreme Dao, the ancestral school of alchemy, would dare attempt such a feat on their very first attempt at qi-pill refinement.