Chapter 6: Prying a Little

Wen Gu was pondering other matters in his heart, but it did not hinder him from speaking with the several persons in charge in the Village.

Once the few questions regarding the Wubao blueprints were discussed and settled, the next step for these persons in charge in the Village was to chat about materials and the arrangements for construction within the Village; however, some of the content involved in this, such as the renovation of the warehouse and the Cellar, could not be known by Wen Gu, an outsider.

The two Wen brothers were both going to leave, so they were outsiders through and through.

Several Village Elders spoke quite bluntly, and to avoid offending this scholar, the Village Head intended to speak up first and ask Wen Gu to return.

Yet he heard Wen Gu say: "Actually, there is one more matter. I do not know if I should speak of it or not... I have pondered for a long time and decided to ask about it after all."

The Village Head's words to send him away stopped at his lips, and he said: "What matter?"

Wen Gu's face revealed a worried look: "The sages of old once said, 'A person's blood, Qi, and spirit are what sustain life and encompass one's nature and destiny.' This means that for a person to live, they must have blood and Qi, and they must also have spirit. I observe that everyone in the Village now... seems somewhat listless and dispirited."

Speaking of this, the several persons in charge in the Village also felt anxious, and they were no longer in a rush to drive Wen Gu out the door.

Could they not know about the problem Wen Gu mentioned?

Although they had not read the books of sages, they had their own experience and insight.

If a person loses their spirit and Qi, they easily become weak and easily fall ill.

Therefore, many times, they do not need to understand medicine or pharmacology; they only need to look at the other person's mental state to know roughly how their body is doing.

The number of people in the Village now is, relatively speaking, still quite large, but given everyone's current mental state, even if Wen Gu draws the blueprints well, and even if the timing for the seasonal change has arrived, does everyone have the strength to build the Wubao?

Moving stones and carrying timber—can they move them and carry them?

They would collapse after doing one day of work!

Their bodies now are far inferior to when they used to tend the crops in the fields. The fields are abandoned, their spirits have collapsed, and apart from the patrol personnel sent by each household, the other villagers are locked in their homes all day, terrified and thinking about this and that; they are either lifeless or arguing every day.

And what their Village is about to begin is the task of building the fortress at the end of autumn and throughout the entire winter!

When the weather turns cold, people will suffer even more.

But in such times as these, everyone is forced to have no other choice; they can only go out to collect materials and supplies when it is cold and when the evil objects are restricted by the low temperature.

For a moment, the several persons in charge, who had originally been excited by the Wubao, could not help but sigh.

What else could be done?

It cannot be reasoned with, and no other way can be found.

Qingyi Daozhang can perform a Dharma Assembly to conduct an Exorcism for everyone, but he cannot continuously boost their spirits!

Feeling the heavy atmosphere, Wen Gu said slowly: "Why not try to increase the villagers' spiritual life a little?"

A Village Elder asked: "What is called spiritual life?"

Wen Gu explained straightforwardly: "It means finding some amusement."

"In this state, where would there be any amusement?" Are you, this scholar, joking?

"Is a Storybook needed?" Wen Gu asked.

The room suddenly went quiet.

The Village Head looked over and said: "If it were in the past, we would certainly like it, but life is bitter now; is it useful?"

"One must try it to know."

Wen Gu could not be certain either, but he wanted to try and hoped to gain the support of the several persons in charge, so he stated his idea:

"I want to try writing a Storybook related to the Evil Plague. It can allow everyone to learn knowledge on how to ward off the Evil Plague, satisfy everyone's spiritual needs, and also lift that spirit and Qi so that they will have more strength when doing things."

The Village Head listened and felt it was reliable, so he asked Wen Gu to say more.

This is what Wen Gu thought: now that the Evil Plague is spreading, self-protection is paramount. Praying to God and Buddha all day is of no use; do not always dwell on those ghost and monster things.

Through the Storybook, he would popularize knowledge about parasites to the villagers and how to pay attention to their own protection during daily life and work.

Hiding at home, boiling water, heating food, and just scraping by day after day?

But firewood and food will always run out. Supplies in the Village are distributed according to labor; whoever puts in more effort gets more.

The Village is about to build the Wubao and will certainly need to use more manpower; it will not allow those people to continue hiding at home.

Most of the villagers have lived at the bottom of society for generations and lack awareness of many things, but at a time like this, the fact that this Village can still have so many survivors clearly shows they already have a certain level of awareness, are willing to listen to advice, and have the ability to discern.

People fear because of the unknown and become flustered because of fear; that is when it is easier to make mistakes or even endanger their lives.

It would be better to let everyone learn more epidemic prevention knowledge; only when they have a plan in mind can they be more efficient.

"After I write it down, I can let those in the Village who are literate read it to everyone," Wen Gu said.

The several persons in charge in the room were indeed tempted.

Similar to the stories told by storytellers in the Town and the County Town?

If it really could work, they would also like to listen to a Storybook.

There is no entertainment in the Village; they are cooped up in front of and behind the house all day. When these old men have nothing to do, they look through the gaps in the fence at the increasingly desolate fields ahead and weep in the wind.

When their emotions are suppressed, they wish they could just walk into the mountains to save their families from some burden. But they cannot let go in their hearts; there are some things that young people really cannot handle thoroughly.

If a Storybook could solve so many problems, that would of course be best.

Without waiting for others to express their stance, the Village Head nodded first: "Then let's try it!"

Wen Gu nodded slightly and added: "Since it is a Storybook for everyone in the Village to read, it must of course conform to everyone's preferences."

He had to adapt it according to local customs and tastes, tailoring it to local conditions and grounding it in the local reality. As long as it does not always repeat those ghost and monster things.

"Then, which types do you all prefer?" he asked.

On this question, everyone was very willing to express their opinions.

When the world was peaceful, they were not picky; they listened enthusiastically to those about talented scholars and beautiful ladies, and they also liked rural gossip very much.

But now that the world has changed, they have no patience to listen to any talented scholars, beautiful ladies, or rural gossip; they just want to listen to those—

"About immortals, about Demons and Ghosts!"

"Like Zhong Kui the Saint Monarch subduing demons! I heard it once at a restaurant in the Town."

"I love listening to God and Buddha subduing demons!"

Wen Gu was speechless.

It all came back to those gods and ghosts again.

He hesitated and said, "Given the current situation, writing a Storybook like this... will everyone accept it? Won't they feel even greater psychological pressure after hearing it?"

The crowd was firm: this is exactly what we want!

Don't talk to me about anything else at a time like this, we just want to hear about gods and ghosts!

The Village Chief said, "We don't understand what psychological pressure is, we just want to hear a Storybook like this."

"Well... alright then."

As long as the goal can be achieved, guiding good hygiene habits and protective awareness, then let it be gods and ghosts.

If one were to persist in telling the villagers that "talk of gods and ghosts is all falsehood," one would be beaten by a mob.

Understanding the demand, Wen Gu confirmed the genre: "Then I shall write about exorcising demons and banishing plagues?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

The several key figures sitting on the side nodded in unison.

The Wubao map was almost finished, but to write a Storybook, a fair amount of paper was also needed.

The Village Chief remembered this time, turned around, and went to the storeroom to fetch a large stack of new paper.

Although it was not the top-tier calligraphy and painting paper used by the nobility, such paper quality was something ordinary commoners had rarely been able to touch in the past.

However, no one in the village used it on a daily basis, and since it now concerned the "spiritual life" of the village, the Village Chief was willing to part with it.

"Regarding this Storybook matter, thank you for your hard work!"

Wen Gu took the paper, felt the slightly heavy texture of the paper in his hands, and said sincerely, "I should naturally consider the village's needs more."

Hmm, and while at it, strengthen his influence in the hearts of the villagers; if he could fish out the one doing Alchemy, that would be even better.

Of course, he couldn't just stare at that Daoist Priest; he had to see if there were any other suitable talents among those staying in the village.

The Village Chief's grandson, Doumiao, who had once been an apprentice at a County Town pharmacy, had been quietly organizing Medicinal Herbs on the side, but before Wen Gu left, he spoke up to remind him:

"We villagers don't have much learning, Brother Wen, please try to write it as simply and plainly as possible."

Which meant, don't use too much flowery language, we won't understand it.

Wen Gu returned a bow, indicating he had remembered.

Sigh, this pharmacy apprentice is quite good, it's a pity he can't be poached.

Not to mention that the village wouldn't let him go, if he really used underhanded means to poach him, the village would basically be on the verge of collapse.

While carrying the large stack of new paper back, Wen Gu's gaze looked once again toward the room where the Daoist Priest was.

Passing by here, one could smell the scent of Medicinal Herbs. Everyone in the village knew that this Daoist Priest in seclusion was practicing Alchemy.

From time to time, one could also hear the sound of pounding medicine, and one wondered how that elixir was being refined.

The window facing outward was tightly shut, and the situation inside the room could not be seen.

Wen Gu withdrew his gaze.

The little apprentice couldn't be touched, so he still had to pry from this side.

In the following days, Wen Gu devoted his main energy to the Storybook.

And in his spare time—

He secretly lifted Iron when no outsiders were around.

He acted refined when outsiders were around.

Because he had already planned it out in his heart, the Storybook was written quickly.

Three days later, Wen Gu handed the first manuscript to the Village Chief.

The Village Chief was very satisfied after reading it, but felt that one copy wasn't safe, so just in case, he wanted his grandson Doumiao to transcribe it again so he could keep a copy in his own hands.

Doumiao was helpless: "Grandpa, you are making things difficult for me. I can recognize all the characters, but transcribe? The characters I write can only be recognized by me. If I had the ability to transcribe books, I would have gone to a bookstore to take on work back then!"

In the end, Wen Gu took the initiative to take on this task.

"Then I will transcribe it again, and also make some slight modifications."

He also asked them which parts of the first draft were difficult to understand, so he could write a "Beneficial Version."

And the Village Chief took the first manuscript to find someone in the village suitable for storytelling.

As for the venue for storytelling, he naturally dared not disturb the Daoist Priest's Alchemy. Choosing an empty shed further away, fumigating it with Medicinal Herbs, and it could be used. Have someone tell the Storybook three or five times a day, and those who want to listen can go there themselves.

The effect of the Storybook was immediate.

The dull atmosphere in the village became active again, and the villagers who walked out the door changed their previous mental state, and they talked more too.

Wen Gu observed these villagers, as he could use this opportunity to better understand the family composition and speech and behavior styles of each household in the village.

The last time these people saw Wen Gu was a few days ago when the Daoist Priest was performing a Dharma Assembly. At that time, everyone was on guard against each other and unwilling to speak.

This time, they were much more enthusiastic.

Wen Gu returned the same enthusiasm.

————

A Dharma Assembly had been held not long ago, and medicinal water had been sprayed all over the village, the scent of which had not yet dissipated.

In the newly tidied-up thatched hut, quite a few people were sitting there early in the morning.

A small bundle of Medicinal Herbs in the brazier was lit first, and amidst the medicinal smoke, Zhang Erzhuang, the former accountant of a County Town restaurant and current person in charge of village accounts, walked to the front, sat on a wooden chair raised a notch higher, and began the daily routine of storytelling.

He had already told it many times; he told it at home and continued to tell it here, without getting bored at all.

Now, without looking at the Storybook, he could tell it fluently himself, and could even interject some personal thoughts and express some of his own viewpoints.

He had also seen the storyteller hired by the restaurant, and even if he could only learn two or three parts, it was enough to stir up the emotions of the villagers.

Their spirits were visibly lifted, and their faces glowed with radiance.

"Qingyi Immortal has said that Wicked Evil causes plagues; these Poisonous Insects are the root of Wicked Evil, bringing disaster to the human world!"

It speaks of what is written in the Storybook: the Divine Fire between heaven and earth, slaying the Poisonous Insect that harms the human world.

In the Storybook, the plot twists and turns; just as the disaster was about to be resolved, a sudden heavy rain fell locally!

"The Divine Fire's power was greatly reduced, while the Poisonous Insect's morale soared, darting away with the water flow."

The villagers in the room were anxious.

"What a pity that this heavy rain let them get away!"

"Once that Poisonous Insect escapes into the water, it can't be caught!"

Zhang Erzhuang, at the front, shook his head: "This Poisonous Insect lives when it encounters water; though heavily wounded by the Divine Fire, once it escapes into the stream, it heals rapidly and can move with the current... Alas!"

The other villagers sighed along with him, all with faces full of worry—what was to be done?

With the people of the world suffering, they felt particularly immersed in the story.

Zhang Erzhuang shifted his mood and flicked his sleeves: "There is still a chance; we can intercept it before the stream flows into the river!"

The atmosphere was so well-wrought that he seemed to have returned to that bustling County Town street of the past, filled with hot-blooded passion and surging emotions.

"The Poisonous Insect lurks in the water, and along the way, it attaches toxins to the damp mud on both sides of the stream..."

He spoke of the Divine Fire tracking down along this stream, while downstream, there were farming families living there, as well as city folk out for leisure.

Some used the stream water to clean their hands, or took fruits they had picked and washed them briefly in the stream before eating them directly.

Others were stepping in the water to play.

"It is a pity that by this time, the stream water had already been tainted by the Poisonous Insect, and toxins remained on both banks. Food cleaned with the stream water would have the insect poison mixed in, swallowed along with the food, passing from the stomach to the intestines, and in a short while, the poisoning would be deep..."

"And those who had their fingers pricked or arms scratched while picking flowers or handling grass—the insect poison would invade their skin and blood vessels, spreading throughout their entire body..."

"And those playing in the water with bare chests or bare feet—in normal times, it wouldn't matter. But at this time, even if one were strong and sturdy, they still revealed a flaw!"

Sighs rose and fell in the room.

"The insect poison invades the arms and legs; the poisoned person suffers spasms and wails, losing all consciousness, appearing as if mad..."

Listening to those unaware people—whether they were villagers or the children of nobles—stepping closer to danger one by one and falling victim, the villagers listening to the story also felt their hair stand on end, empathizing deeply.

"Alas!"

"Isn't that so!"

"Taking advantage of a weakness, truly cunning!"

"Things meant for eating must be scalded with boiling water; if that's not possible, wipe them with a clean cloth. It's something everyone in our Village knows. The wealthy families aren't unable to afford firewood, so how could they be so negligent?"

Zhang Erzhuang's expression at the front changed again, his look compassionate. He imitated the monks he had seen at the temple, pressing his palms together... then thought better of it and immediately changed to a Daoist ritual, holding the origin and guarding the one.

"If that lingering insect poison touches a person, all the sins are recorded against them; after death, when judged at the Yama's hall, they will be sent to the great prison!"

Whether they were imperial relatives or common folk, for the people of this era, matters of the afterlife were major affairs!

"The blood of those poisoned by the Poisonous Insect is itself toxic; if an ordinary person touches it, they will also be poisoned..."

"For example, secretly wearing clothes stripped from a corpse without decontaminating them first—if one has wounds on their body, the insect poison will invade the wounds..."

He spoke of the handling of the toxic corpses of those infected by the Wicked Evil insect poison.

"Burial by fire—only the Fire God can clear away the evil, restore purity, and allow for rest. Do you know why it must be burned?"

Without waiting for the villagers to express their own opinions, Zhang Erzhuang continued: "Even if you don't burn it, there is still the Karma fire in hell to scorch you; you can't escape it. It has to be burned once eventually, and by then, it will be burning the soul directly!"

He didn't just tell the content of the Storybook; he also interspersed it with his own understanding.

"Is it the physical body that is burned? No, it is the Karma and sins that are burned..."

As the plot progressed, the Divine Fire finally caught the Poisonous Insect and was about to unleash its ultimate move...

Those who had been arguing over the different opinions on burning corpses immediately fell silent, their gazes fiery, their fists tightly clenched, as if their whole bodies were exerting force.

At this time, in another part of the Village.

Half-grown children, having missed the morning session, gathered in twos and threes to discuss the content of the Storybook and learn the ultimate move of the Divine Fire from it.

However, they were more cautious in their actions than usual; they could not be like those fools in the Storybook and give the evil insect an opportunity!

Not far from them was a house.

Qingyi Daozhang was preparing something new.

The Village was only so big; even if he was far away, if the commotion was loud, it was hard not to hear a little.

And if they were slightly closer and the voices were louder, as long as one focused their attention to listen, they could hear the general content.

At first, there was a commotion, but the Daoist Priest ignored it, thinking that someone in the Village had "become possessed" again, or that there were refugees who had arrived, or perhaps something else had happened.

He didn't pay any attention to it; the affairs of the Village should be handled by the villagers. It had nothing to do with him!

He continued to busy himself, yet his ears precisely caught certain sensitive words coming from outside.

"Lin—"

The Daoist Priest paused.

"Bing—"

His eyes revealed shock.

"Dou—"

His complexion became visibly ugly.

"Zhe—"

His gaze was sharp yet tinged with panic. He opened his mouth to curse, but was choked by his own saliva from the excitement, coughing wretchedly. After finally adjusting himself, he forced his way back into the demeanor of an expert.

He took a deep breath.

He cursed inwardly.

Damn it!

Who the hell is reciting my Daoist Nine Syllables of Truth?!!

Could it be that a peer has appeared here?!

A sudden sense of vigilance arose in his heart, and he was so anxious he nearly jumped up.

Given the current living conditions in such a small, dilapidated Village, it could not afford a second "Immortal Master"; if one truly existed, they would surely have to fight to the death!

Peers are mortal enemies!!!

(End of chapter)