Chapter 61: The Ghosts Deliver the Medicine

“Our moment has finally arrived!” Qian Chen, who had waited three days before the altar, suddenly opened his eyes. The two golden and silver child spirits, dozing off beside the red leather gourd, jolted awake at the sound, straining to lift the spirit-light mirror in their hands toward the Wei residence in Jiaobu Town.

The Ear God merely lifted his eyelids, then pulled the talisman draped over him tighter and fell back asleep.

“It’s fine… go back to sleep! It’s not time yet!” Qian Chen reassured them.

This altar ritual drew upon the power of heaven, earth, and spirits, harnessing the laws of the spirit path—but it was also exhausting. To make Zhen Daoist believe the curse targeted only Wei Taiping, Qian Chen had deliberately waited three days.

During these three days, Qian Chen had already infused the qi signatures of a hundred ghosts through the curse, spreading them throughout the entire Wei residence.

Though Zhen Daoist had sealed himself tightly, he had not noticed that the entire Wei residence’s qi had grown murky and gloomy.

Had anyone possessed Qian Chen’s acute spiritual sense, they would have perceived faint strands of strange spiritual energy, like insects, lurking on every servant in the Wei residence—only a few high-cultivation elders, the household head Wei Lecheng, and Zhen Daoist himself, protected by magical artifacts, had blocked this qi.

Just as Zhen Daoist believed himself perfectly safe…

The Wei residence’s steward, holding Wei Lecheng’s official decree, opened the secret vault. As the heavy dragon-patterned gate creaked open, all its sealing arrays activated. The steward waved his hand, and several servants stepped forward, carrying trays to select the spirit herbs needed for today’s elixir assembly—all prepared herbs stored in cool, dry chambers preserved by sealing arrays.

The steward selected seven herbal formulas according to the recipe: brown aromatic herbs with roots intact, plump purple lingzhi mushrooms exuding sweet fragrance, dried spirit cicada molts sealed in special medicinal paste, buried in underground cellars for fifty years—only about one in eleven would sprout a tiny blue flower, a rare spirit fungus—Ice Cicada Flower.

Eight Treasures Jade Gel—half-finished spirit medicine prepared from eight spirit algae.

Qiu Horn—a unique horn from a venomous giant serpent, obtainable only from serpents whose venom could resist all poisons; those over a hundred years old were called Bi Xi.

Moon Essence Pearl—a spirit pearl nurtured for at least a hundred years by an ancient freshwater mussel in the Great Marsh, requiring a species that absorbed lunar essence; among the hundred-plus spirit mussels of the Nine Truths Great Marsh, only seven or eight met the criteria.

Spirit Dew—dew collected from the needles of century-old pine trees using qi-gathering techniques.

“Danshen, Primordial Spirit…” The old steward pulled out a golden scale and lifted the lid off a porcelain jar on the shelf. The porcelain, fired from spirit soil, naturally emitted a gentle moisture, ideal for preserving spirit herbs. Inside lay crimson root segments, cut into three-inch lengths. Primordial Spirit resembled Danshen but was black, hence also called Xuan Shen.

As the old steward prepared to weigh it, he saw the dosage on the recipe and sighed bitterly. “Take the whole jar! This one holds fifty jin… not enough! Get two jars… the Great Marsh doesn’t grow good ginseng—these were bought from the north… are these even rare enough for the vault?”

“Blood Toad Skin… this is an extremely poisonous substance! Here, our toad skins are all processed into toad venom for long-term storage! This spirit herb excels at opening orifices, repelling evil, and extracting poisons—it kills the spirits within the orifices. Blood Toads are a rare variant: their venom is crimson as blood, and when their dorsal warts spew poison, it’s like bathing in blood—hence their venom is reddish-brown. Don’t confuse it with ordinary toad venom!”

One servant was selecting Ice Cicada Flowers. These spirit herbs varied in quality—the household head had ordered only the finest for this elixir assembly.

Thus, the servants focused intently on judging quality. In the dim vault, the servant selecting the flowers felt his eyes dry and itchy, as if he’d stared too long. He rubbed them—and in his peripheral vision, he glimpsed a blood-veined eye peering from the crack in the cicada molt’s shell.

That eye, through the tiny fissure in the molt, shifted slightly, revealing a strange, mocking smile.

The servant’s spine chilled. He quickly lowered his hand and examined closely—but the Ice Cicada Flower showed nothing unusual. The shell’s opening still bore only a tiny ice-blue blossom…

“Must be staring too long—eyes are playing tricks!”

The young servant placed the selected Ice Cicada Flowers into a sandalwood box. As he closed the lid, dozens of eyes suddenly opened beneath each ice-blue flower—dozens of cicada molts, each housing a strange eye, fixed their gaze on the oblivious young servant the moment the box shut.

The servant raised his head, eyes bloodshot. His gaze was like that of another person—yet he himself felt nothing amiss…

The jars containing Danshen and Primordial Spirit, still uncovered after the steward’s inspection, had their lids sealed before he turned back. A pale hand had reached out from within, effortlessly closing the lid. When the steward turned and saw the lid shut, he assumed some servant had done it casually, and thought nothing of it.

In the translucent, gel-like Eight Treasures Jade Gel, strands of black hair slowly writhed—like the floating, seaweed-like hair of a drowned corpse…

Dozens of miles away, Qian Chen swung his peachwood sword—the second talisman silently turned to ash…

When the Moon Essence Pearl glowed, a scorpion-shaped shadow flashed past.

On the Qiu Horn, a tiny golden-scaled snake coiled around it, spitting venom that seeped into the Bixi …

The processed Blood Toad Venom suddenly softened and swelled, rising and falling as if a toad were breathing…

Bottles of sealed spirit dew were each touched by a pale finger, sometimes probing into the neck to stir the contents… The servants moving through the vault gradually stiffened, their bodies surrounded by strange white shadows—yet they remained unaware.

Fingers crawled from their ears; blood streamed from their eyes. As they spoke to each other, their lips moved—but no sound emerged. From deep within their throats, a woman’s hand emerged, palm bearing a single eye…

Others emitted strange laughter from their chests.

Eight hands sprouted from behind the old steward’s back, like centipedes, carrying various spirit herbs—yet he remained oblivious.

“Hehe… have we gathered all the herbs the master ordered?” The old steward’s face twitched sporadically, emitting strange laughter, yet his voice remained solemn: “Today’s elixir assembly is a major event for the Wei family… those who walk, those who carry—behind them, a sea of white. If even a single mistake occurs, the master won’t forgive us. When the coffin is carried, the earth buried, the masters and young lords weep… be careful.”

The old steward spoke two voices at once—yet the servants remained utterly unaware…

The servants, carrying trays under the steward’s lead, moved like a funeral procession of ghosts—silent, lifeless, hidden in shadows. Heads bowed, faces stiff and expressionless. The steward’s eight hands—varying in size, male and female, deathly pale—spread along his ribs, each clutching different spirit herbs…

As the group approached the vault’s great gate, it was as if countless demons returned from the netherworld. Step by step, they walked toward the dragon-patterned door. The deep doorway gradually restored their color; the strangeness faded. The moment they stepped beyond the threshold, they became normal people again—laughing, chatting, as if nothing had happened.

Qian Chen sheathed his peachwood sword. The hundred ghosts and malevolent spirits bowed before the altar… The hanged ghost chewed a Primordial Spirit root; a decapitated ghost slapped his back, forcing him to swallow hastily. The drowned ghost’s hair clung to a transparent, fragrant gel—she seemed to enjoy it, letting her hair hang from both shoulders, fingers twirling the damp strands.

Other spirits—the Eater of Vomit, the Swift Ghost, the Cat Ghost, the Fox Ghost, the Pipa Ghost, the Blood-Eater, the Disheveled Ghost, the Strong Ghost, the One-Horned Ghost, the Poorly-Died Ghost—each performed their own small actions…

Qian Chen gazed toward the Wei residence in Jiaobu Town, smiling warmly.

“How could such a grand elixir assembly be without me? I see your herbs are still lacking—I’ve sent a host of ghosts to deliver you the finest spirit herbs… Surprised? Thrilling? This ghost-delivered medicine is just the appetizer. Next come the Five Poisons entering the furnace, the Five Immortals stoking the fire… but the greatest surprise is still to come!”

Seeing Qian Chen’s smile, the tiny Ear God shuddered, then quietly pulled out jade fragments and nibbled a few bites—then turned his hand empty again, as if he’d hidden the substance somewhere, though no trace remained.