Chapter 951

Since Qian Chen used the Dao Dust Pearl to open this universe with a single thought, the True and Spirit Realms were divided; the Twelve Celestial Officers carved out the Dao paths, and a number of deities equal to the sixty-year cycle of Jiazi took their places beneath them.

But Qian Chen descended as the Creator’s exalted form, and now the universe has not yet reached one hundred thousand years since its opening—the deities beneath the Celestial Officers have not yet taken their rightful seats.

The cultivation path of this world remains in darkness; those who cultivate face one obstacle after another, each transformation bringing a new realm, all relying on the manifestations of the Celestial Officers, stealing spiritual herbs from the infinite illusions of the Spirit Realm to achieve immortality.

Thus, in this universe, the Dao path comes first, spiritual herbs second; and spiritual herbs, hidden between the True and Spirit Realms, rarely appear in the mortal world.

Spiritual herbs steal the essence of heaven and earth, conceal the essence of creation, are detested by ghosts and gods, and are born of heavenly and mortal forces; thus they are guarded by demons and protected by celestial spirits—any who touch them suffer calamity, and only those who first obtain the method may approach and harvest them.

Many cultivators in the world rely on their own spiritual light to visualize phantom steps ascending to the Spirit Realm, or fall into the True Realm amid great destruction, seeking herbs in both worlds.

This profession has ancient roots and many different legends attached to it.

In recent years, one such lineage has emerged among the Outer Eight Gates of Zhigucheng.

Searching for and gathering herbs should, in theory, belong to the Pi Gate (selling herbs and treating illness), but the act of seeking herbs seizes the creative essence of heaven and earth, steals the essence of the True and Spirit Realms—the core lies in the word “steal.”

Thus, this trade belongs to the foremost of the Outer Eight Gates—the Dao Gate.

And even within the Dao Gate, it is the most mysterious, leading all others, supreme among thieves—the Sage Thieves.

The grand theft of heaven and earth is too astonishing an ambition; since it was passed down by Zhuangzi, the True Person of Nan Hua, every generation of cultivator has aspired to become such a great thief, and thus incurred heaven’s envy.

Therefore, this lineage within the Dao Gate gradually scattered, sinking into obscurity.

Now, this group has lost the Sage’s heart of grand theft, turning instead to stealing heavenly and earthly treasures for money.

These people in Zhigucheng rely on their eyesight to glean rumors of heavenly and earthly treasures from the goods flowing north and south, and from strange tales across the land, then use their skills to obtain them—this is called “Bie Bao.”

In the northeast, mountain travelers call seeking treasure herbs “Qian Yang,” and their leader is the “Shepherd of Sheep.”

In the south, skilled feng shui masters known as Di Shi survey the land to locate treasures, calling it “Xiang Ling.”

In Zhigucheng, among the Bie Bao practitioners, there is one such master.

Other Bie Bao practitioners merely roam Zhigucheng, where treasures from all directions converge; some hunt for ancient curios, some use a single eye to scan herbs across the land, picking out those that have become sentient and hidden themselves, others have ties to mountain travelers beyond the passes, each time they learn of a wealthy man suffering a strange illness, they traverse mountains and rivers to find herbs and sell them at high prices.

But among all these trades, the one man who excels in every aspect, always stands alone at the top—the sole leader of the Bie Bao trade is Dou Xianyan.

Dou Xianyan was not born blind—he once had a pair of divine eyes.

People say his grandfather, the legendary feng shui master Dou Di Shi, traveled a thousand mountains to find a rare dragon lair shaped like a king shedding his armor, intending to present it to a noble to secure his family’s wealth.

But while Dou Di Shi’s skill in locating dragons and treading earth was peerless, his ability to navigate the underworld of connections was lacking.

Thus, he entrusted it to the wrong person.

The noble, having obtained the dragon lair, sought to silence him, and granted Dou Di Shi a “family fortune”—all seventeen members of his family died violently.

Dou Di Shi, who had faked his death and rushed back, arrived too late to save all but his youngest grandson, then vanished into the underworld without a trace.

And the dragon lair itself, Dou Di Shi, at the cost of his own cultivation, extracted the dragon’s marrow.

What followed is now only legend.

It is said that after fleeing, Dou Di Shi infused the dragon’s marrow—concentrating the essence of the dragon vein—into his grandson’s eyes, forging a pair of divine eyes that could peer into heaven, but thus incurred great karmic retribution: not only did Dou Di Shi die a wretched death in his old age, but his grandson Dou Xianyan also lost his fortune.

The noble’s family, too, was ruined; within three years they were accused of treason and exterminated in three clans.

Before his death, Dou Di Shi was said to have been covered in toxic sores, wailing day and night, his cries at night like a monstrous dragon; as he lay dying, he called Dou Xianyan to his side and said: “A Di Shi follows heaven’s will, drawing benefit from mountains and rivers. But I, for my own selfishness, destroyed a dragon vein. Such a deed must invite heavenly retribution!”

“I used my lifetime’s cultivation to grant you a pair of divine eyes—intended to see all the winds of heaven, waters of earth, the vital currents of the land.”

“But if you enter the Wind Gate, bearing this retribution, the evil qi of the earth will entangle you—you will not live past ten years!”

“Now, in the Three Realms, you are rejected by heaven and earth; you can only wander among mortals, and your fate is broken—you cannot retain wealth. After I die, go north to Zhigucheng, use this pair of divine eyes to identify objects and perform Bie Bao! Once you earn money, you must spend it within three days—no matter how much, never keep it in your hands longer than seven days. Then, do not marry, do not have children. Only thus, bearing the Five Misfortunes and Three Deficiencies, can you be protected through life, avoiding backlash!”

“Remember, remember… this treasure may only be taken from mortals—never touch heavenly or earthly treasures, the creation of heaven and earth!”

After speaking, Dou Di Shi passed away.

Dou Xianyan buried his grandfather in a desolate, feng shui-deficient place, then set off alone by boat to Zhigucheng.

Indeed, he fared well using those eyes.

Though he could never save money, he spent it like flowing water through trading treasures, living a carefree life.

Others knew his fate was cursed—he could not hold wealth—and thus did not covet his few coins, just as his grandfather had foreseen.

But after half a lifetime of such freedom, Dou Xianyan, nearing old age, was undone by a woman.

He was naturally clever and insightful, and in the art of Bie Bao, he surpassed even his grandfather; especially after acquiring three extraordinary treasures, he became a true master of the trade.

But as he grew old, he finally wished to leave behind a lineage.

Originally, with his three treasures, he could have compensated his own fortune, stabilized a thread of descendants, sacrificed his eyes, and exchanged them for a single spark of lineage—it was not impossible.

But Dou Xianyan’s skill was too great—he could not settle for that.

So he took his three most prized treasures—the Qin King’s Bone Mirror, the White Jade Cup of the Three Altars, and the Moon-Reflecting Pearl—and sought a treasure capable of encompassing the creation of heaven and earth, granting immortality or godhood.

The result, of course, was empty-handed: his wife died, his child vanished, and even his band of thieves, scattered across the Three Mountains and Five Ranges, were buried within that secret realm.

Only he himself was carried out on the back of a large black donkey.

And he was blind.

It is said he merely glanced at the treasure, and his divine eyes were ruined.

Now—he, once the great Bie Bao master Dou, has become a vagrant in Zhigucheng, riding his large black donkey backward, leaning on a bamboo pole, begging for food; every day, once he receives a meal, he leans on his pole, rides his donkey, and goes to the southern part of the city to listen to people play cards and fight crickets.

That pair of divine eyes now seems veiled by a gray-white mist of death, no longer possessing their former brilliance.

Even the name “Great Bie Bao Dou” has been forgotten; now he is called only Dou Xianyan.

The day before yesterday, Dou Xianyan in Zhigucheng was terrified by the battle between northern and southern guests.

As a blind man, without his old donkey to guide him, he could not move; that day, fires spread across Zhigucheng, and the donkey, panicked, broke free from its shed and fled.

Dou Xianyan nearly burned to death in his own crumbling hut.

His eyes were blind, his abilities half-destroyed; he endured a night of suffering until the donkey returned on its own, then quickly led it away from the city toward the southeast.

Following the South Canal, he walked until he found a bustling place—it seemed a temple fair was being held; around him were shouts, gongs, drums, opera, and acrobatics clustered in one area, while fortune-tellers and herb sellers gathered in another.

Dou Xianyan reasoned that at a temple fair, they wouldn’t mind feeding one more beggar; he dismounted, leaned on his broken bamboo pole, and headed toward the scholarly vendors.

And it so happened.

The Yang Liuqing temple fair was held between the Medicine King Temple and the Zhenwu Temple.

Any scholarly vendor seeking quiet preferred the quieter side, for the fair’s main buyers were those seeking herbs, so all clustered near the Medicine King Temple.

The acrobats and performers, bound by the word “martial,” naturally gathered near the Zhenwu Temple.

Dou Xianyan headed toward the Medicine King Temple, walking along the edge of the fair, when he heard a man…

In his thirties, dressed like a farmer.

He spread a white cloth on the ground, squatted down, and shouted: “Come see my treasure! Come see my treasure!”

Dou Xianyan, a lifetime spent in Bie Bao, upon hearing “treasure,” naturally stopped, joining the crowd to see what he had.

The man pulled from his waist a silk-wrapped bundle, inside which bulged a lump the size of a human head.

Dou Xianyan sniffed, and immediately knew his scheme.

The man pointed to the bundle: “This treasure, I found on the seashore—it’s extremely useful. I’ll open it for you all to see.”

As he spoke, he unwrapped it: inside was a rough stone, pitted with countless tiny holes.

From those dense holes crawled dozens of tiny toads—lifelike, making the onlookers’ scalps crawl.

Everyone found the thing strange; someone dared to approach and discovered the toads were made of stone—no one knew what it was.

“I found this thing, didn’t know what it was, but asked many people, and learned it’s a sea treasure—it’s the excrement of a giant sea whale that ate a sea monster, called Dragon’s Snot…”

Before he finished, someone interrupted.

“Dragon’s Snot? That’s a priceless treasure! Take it to an herb shop—just a fingertip’s worth sells for a hundred or so taels of silver! What good is it here?” a bystander shouted.

The man frowned: “If this were truly mature Dragon’s Snot, I’d be rich!”

“But when Dragon’s Snot first emerges, it’s raw—it must soak in the sea for a hundred years to mature. My sea treasure is raw Dragon’s Snot, just as it was turning mature, when a nest of sea toads latched onto it, nested inside, ate, drank, defecated, and ruined it all!”

He bowed: “These sea toads love to eat fragrant herbs; after eating, their skin secretes oil. Those who eat too much are sealed in oil, turning into stone toads.”