Chapter 34: Qihai Li Zhenren

Qihai Li Zhenren delegated the cleanup of the stove to Qi Wu, then led Jiang Mingyu and the other two to the Sanqing Hall.

The three followed the Zhenren into the Sanqing Hall, a spacious dining hall.

Wooden meditation cushions and chairs were neatly arranged around the room.

On the walls hung ancient plaques inscribed with “Sanqing Share One Root, Chisong Is Sharp-Witted,” their age indeterminable.

Most striking was the trio of grand statues enshrined at the hall’s center.

They were three massive jade pedestals, each carved with the images of the Heavenly Emperor, the Earthly Sovereign, and the Human Sovereign.

The Heavenly Emperor stood tall and solemn, draped in a deep blue robe, holding the Liuan Dan Book, his divine countenance clear and vivid.

The Earthly Sovereign was grave and austere, clad in a black-green robe, holding the Douwan Fa Pin, radiating an extraordinary aura.

The Human Sovereign was benevolent and compassionate, wearing a crimson battle robe, gripping a horn bow and arrow, his eyes glowing with life.

The three statues embodied both form and spirit, their bodies seeming hollow, emitting a faint aura of immortality.

The entire Sanqing Hall exuded a sacredness forged by centuries of time.

This Sanqing Hall, refined by countless generations, stirred in Jiang Mingyu a profound sense of reverence and a feeling of having known it in a past life.

The Zhenren’s secular name was Wang Xide, courtesy name Hai Li, Daoist title Haili Zi, and he was a disciple of Hongshu—Lu Zhenjun. As the seventh in his master’s lineage, he earned the Jianghu nickname: Qihai Li Zhenren.

“I’ve long heard of your revered name; truly, hearing is not as impressive as seeing,” Jiang Mingyu complimented.

“Since entering summer, I’ve observed the stars at night and seen Mars stationary over the Heart constellation—I foresaw great misfortune in the court…” Haili Zi lifted his feather duster, speaking with solemn gravity: “Lately, I dreamed of a white crane flying into the temple, begging for pills. Could it be… Lord Jiang, you’ve come here for the pills?”

As Haili Zi spoke, his wise eyes shimmered with deep mystery.

“Truly, your divine foresight is unmatched!”

Jiang Mingyu spoke without hesitation: “I’ve been ordered by imperial decree to investigate the late Emperor’s cause of death; all evidence points to pills, so I’ve come to your temple seeking your aid.”

Jiang Mingyu then recounted the entire case in meticulous detail to Haili Zi, and presented the remaining five Yiye Qici Pills for her inspection.

After examining the pills, Haili Zi said: “What you call Yiye Qici Pills? They’re merely ‘Chu Jin Huan’!”

“Chu Jin Huan?” Jiang Mingyu and Tuke Sulu exclaimed in unison.

“It’s a stimulant commonly used by nomads on the grasslands to breed livestock!” Haili Zi continued: “Originally meant for four-legged animals like cattle, horses, and sheep, someone altered the formula so it could be used on humans too. Later, it was introduced to the Central Plains and renamed a yang-enhancing pill for human consumption.”

After explaining the origin of the Yiye Qici Pills, Haili Zi led Jiang Mingyu and the others to the pill room, where several cabinets of varying sizes stood.

These cabinets were neatly aligned along both sides of the room, steady and orderly.

All were made of wood, exquisitely carved.

Each cabinet was built from thick planks, their joints astonishingly precise.

Each stood over twelve chi tall, testifying to their weight.

The wood, aged by time, had turned yellow, yet its surface remained smooth as new.

The carved patterns had sharp, distinct edges, with fine, delicate strokes.

The floral motifs were arranged with perfect rhythm, intricate and minute.

The cabinet doors bore traditional auspicious designs: dragons and phoenixes, baoxiang flowers, birds and blossoms.

These ancient cabinets seemed alive—silent yet solemn, as if holding the accumulated years of an unshared history.

They had silently watched Haili Zi grow, faithfully preserving medicines whose colors had long faded.

Haili Zi’s few words could make these silent wooden cabinets open, drawing out rare herbs.

She had formed countless ties with them over decades, merging with them as one.

Haili Zi skillfully fetched a wooden ladder, its grooves worn smooth by countless footsteps.

She climbed nimbly, her outstretched hands touching the heavy cabinet as if greeting an old friend.

Her hand paused before one cabinet, idly yet carefully tracing its patterns.

Here lay knowledge and skills centuries old—only she understood their meaning.

Finally, in a cabinet twelve chi long, seven chi high, and one-and-a-half chi thick, her hand stopped at a small compartment and withdrew a mustard-yellow pill paste.

The pill paste glowed brilliantly with a mustard-yellow radiance, like a rising sun.

It was more than twice the size of the Yiye Qici Pills, as large as a walnut, its surface smooth and rounded, with neatly arranged patterns visible upon close inspection.

The two smelled nearly identical, though the paste was far more potent.

“This is the ‘Chu Jin Huan,’” Haili Zi said, placing the pill paste into Jiang Mingyu’s palm.

“So large!” Jiang Mingyu asked in astonishment.

Jiang Mingyu felt the paste’s extraordinary weight and was utterly taken aback.

Haili Zi: “Of course—it’s meant for cattle, horses, and sheep. How small could it be?”

Jiang Mingyu asked: “What if someone accidentally ingests it?”

Haili Zi laughed heartily: “Don’t worry—if ingested by mistake, after a night of passion, just sleep it off. You’ll be fine as ever.”

Hearing Haili Zi’s explanation and laughter, Jiang Mingyu suddenly understood, his face flushing crimson and pale in turns.

Tuke Sulu covered his mouth, stifling laughter, then burst into uncontrollable giggles.

Li Xuanren turned beet red, as if wishing to bury himself in the ground.

“If taken in excess, could it kill someone?” Jiang Mingyu asked seriously.

“I’ve tried the Yiye Qici Pills myself…” Tuke Sulu stepped forward: “Just one pill—I felt dizzy afterward! If you don’t relieve it, it’s unbearable!”

“You’ve taken it?” Haili Zi asked.

“Yes. The night the late Emperor died, I was the one who tested it!” Tuke Sulu said earnestly.

Haili Zi walked up to Tuke Sulu, a spark of excitement flashing in her eyes.

She tiptoed slightly, carefully studying the sturdy man before her.

Tuke Sulu felt her scrutiny and grew uneasy.

Haili Zi circled him twice, her gaze fixed on him, making him stare in bewilderment.

She moved behind him, placing her hand on his broad shoulders, praising: “I haven’t seen such a powerful physique in ages!”

Tuke Sulu coughed awkwardly, unsure how to respond.

Haili Zi circled back to face him, tilting her head to admire his rugged features.

Tuke Sulu felt as if her gaze pierced him a hundred times over, utterly uncomfortable.

He wondered: Is this child, barely reaching my navel, truly eighty-seven years old?

Tuke Sulu found it all bizarre.

Though Haili Zi’s praise stirred a flicker of pride, her eccentric behavior left him utterly baffled…

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Haili Zi took a Yiye Qici Pill from the evidence box and told Tuke Sulu to take another!

But Tuke Sulu firmly refused!

He said: “This pill is too potent—I dare not take another!”

“Oh come now, just try one more time…” Haili Zi urged enthusiastically: “Don’t worry, it won’t kill you! I have antidotes here—cures for all poisons.”

Tuke Sulu: “But…”

At that moment, Qi Wu entered the Sanqing Hall—she had just finished cleaning the stove and returned to report.

Haili Zi immediately noticed Tuke Sulu’s expression upon seeing Qi Wu—slight embarrassment—and her brow arched, a sly gleam flashing in her eyes. She devised a plan.

In a suggestive tone, she said: “If you take one pill, I can arrange for my disciple to attend you…”

“Is this true?!” Tuke Sulu’s eyes widened, his lips trembling with excitement.

“Master, absolutely not!” Li Xuanren stepped forward at once, his face filled with anxiety.

“Relax…” Haili Zi reassured Li Xuanren: “I won’t ask you to attend him.”

Li Xuanren was speechless, stammering: “I… I didn’t mean that… Master, if you asked me to attend him, I’d say nothing—but… could you please not…?”

“Wait…” Tuke Sulu interrupted Li Xuanren, declaring bluntly: “I… don’t take interest in men!”

Observing Tuke Sulu’s expression and body language, Haili Zi knew she had guessed right.

“Li Xuanren, you’ve only been in the capital a few years—why do you speak so oddly?” Haili Zi continued: “I have my own arrangements. Take Lord Jiang and Lord Tuke to the back courtyard to rest. We’ll test the pill after dinner.”

Seeing Haili Zi’s veiled hints that she would assign Qi Wu to attend him, Tuke Sulu resolved to summon courage and try the Yiye Qici Pill once more.

After an hour of rest in the back courtyard, Haili Zi personally served them an extraordinary dinner.

Yet the dinner atmosphere was peculiar.

Haili Zi placed bowls and chopsticks before Tuke Sulu, smiling: “This is my special Goji and Chinese Yam Five-Color Soup—perfectly cooked to clear internal heat and replenish qi and blood.”

She gestured to the dishes: “This oyster and leek dish strengthens the lungs and kidneys. This Angelica and Tiger Penis Soup enhances essence and qi.”

Tuke Sulu stared at the food, his scalp prickling.

Haili Zi then picked up a steaming piece of “Ginseng Tofu,” insisting he taste it.

Tuke Sulu dared not refuse; he forced a piece into his mouth.

To his surprise, the “Ginseng Tofu” was exquisitely delicious, melting smoothly on his tongue.

Haili Zi beamed: “This is my most prized medicinal recipe—I’m certain you’ll feel its effects immediately?”

Tuke Sulu’s face flushed crimson and pale; he forced a reply: “Thank you, Zhenren, for your kindness—I’ve done nothing to deserve this… I’m truly unworthy…”

Jiang Mingyu couldn’t help laughing: “Zhenren, stop teasing Lord Tuke. We came here to investigate the case and find pills—not to seek yang-enhancing recipes.”

Haili Zi burst into laughter: “Don’t be annoyed, my lords. I only wish to help Lord Tuke test the pill properly—no other intent.”

Throughout the meal, the atmosphere gradually warmed with Haili Zi’s laughter…

After dinner, full and satisfied, Tuke Sulu followed Qi Wu to a guest room at the rear mountain—he was overjoyed, trembling with excitement!

Qi Wu placed two Yiye Qici Pills on the table, then poured a full bowl of water, asking Tuke Sulu to dissolve and take them.

Tuke Sulu stared at the two pills before him, uncertain if he truly needed to take both.

“T-two pills?” Tuke Sulu asked, astonished.

“Yes, two pills.” Qi Wu explained. “Master said, to achieve perfect replication, you must take two, just like the late emperor did.”

Tukeslu had seen condemned prisoners test the pills; he knew taking two wouldn’t kill you. He clenched his fists, as if charging into battle. He took a deep breath and signaled he was ready.

Qi Wu carefully handed him the two pills.

Tukeslu gathered his courage and took both pills with both hands.

They looked no more dangerous than the single pill he had taken before.

He bent down and filled the bowl with clear water.

Tukeslu closed his eyes, trying to recall the moment he had swallowed the pill before.

Qi Wu waited in silence.

Tukeslu took a deep breath, then placed both pills into his mouth.

The pills were slightly bitter. He lifted the bowl and swallowed them down with water.

As the pills reached his stomach, an indescribable heat surged forth, spreading gradually.

Tukeslu suddenly regretted it—he wished he hadn’t taken two.

But it was too late.

The effects slowly began to manifest; Tukeslu could only wait for the changes the medicine would bring.

Less than fifteen minutes passed—and the medicine began to act!

Tukeslu felt as if all his blood was boiling, warmth rising from his face.

Sweat immediately burst forth; sweat streamed uncontrollably from his scalp and forehead. His clothes soaked through and clung to his skin.

Tukeslu tried to calm himself, to empty his mind—but it was useless.

The effects kept coming; he grew increasingly agitated and restless.

Sweat blurred his vision; he had to close his eyes, trying to escape it all.

Yet at that moment, he felt someone quietly watching him.

He immediately opened his eyes and saw Qi Wu calmly organizing her medicine case.

But her gentle face filled Tukeslu with profound comfort—even a desire to draw near her.

All he wanted now was to walk to her side, to be with her—even just to watch her quietly.

But Tukeslu forced himself to sit still, gripping the corners of his clothes tightly.

He held his breath, trying to calm himself.

But the medicine surged violently, now beginning to affect his thoughts.

His thoughts shattered, leaving only longing for the woman beside him.

Tukeslu had become a slave to the medicine’s effects, helplessly watching his reason slip away...

He saw Qi Wu beside him—her bearing noble, composed, serene—and soon his inner fire could no longer be contained. He clenched his fists, gazing at her with burning eyes.

Under the medicine’s influence, Tukeslu could no longer maintain reason. Suddenly, he lunged forward, arms outstretched, aiming to seize her!

Qi Wu had grown up in a Daoist temple and trained in swordplay; light as a swallow, she sidestepped with perfect grace and evaded his grasp instantly.

Though they chased and tested each other repeatedly, Tukeslu, his reason disrupted, could never pull her into his arms.

Finally, Qi Wu spun around and pinched out the oil lamp—the room plunged into darkness!

In the blackness, Tukeslu could still clearly sense Qi Wu’s presence—but he could not control his thoughts or desires.

Joy flooded his heart; reason faded into nothingness in the dark; lust was stirred by surface sensations.

He felt as if drawn by a net woven of darkness and enchantment, powerless to resist.

Blind in the dark, Tukeslu faintly heard a woman’s soft voice say: “I’m right here!”

Tukeslu caught a faint fragrance—the woman seemed within reach, yet impossibly distant.

He sensed the voice came from the bed!

Without hesitation, ignoring the darkness, he lunged forward, grabbed whatever was there, and clung to it desperately, refusing to let go!

Afraid the prey might slip away again.

But Tukeslu felt something was wrong. He thought: These hands and feet shouldn’t be this short!

Only after he finally adjusted to the darkness, under the faint moonlight, did he suddenly realize—the woman entwined with him on the bed was not Qi Wu, but Qi Hai Li, the True Immortal!

Tukeslu recoiled in terror, scrambling backward to the bed’s edge, raising a hand to stop her. Trembling, he stammered: “I—I am a court military officer! I d-dare not entertain improper thoughts toward a True Immortal!”

“Hehe, what True Immortal…” Hai Li Zi burst into laughter. “I’m already over eighty! I’m just a woman!”

Hearing her age, Tukeslu grew even more terrified.

He kept retreating, shaking his head in disbelief and shock, gripping the bedframe tightly to hold himself together.

But Hai Li Zi gave him no time to think—her hands moved faster than lightning, and in an instant, she struck successfully!

Hai Li Zi: “My little temple rarely sees tall, imposing men. Today, fortune smiles upon me—submit to me!”

Tukeslu: “But… your youthful face—I beg you, I cannot comply!”

Hai Li Zi snorted twice, then said: “You took two pills of the Seven Times in One Night Elixir—today, you have no choice!” No sooner had she spoken than Tukeslu, as she predicted, was already fully primed.

Tukeslu began trembling, shaking his head in despair, wailing.

“No… no!” From the guest room came the piercing, male cries of anguish!

Tukeslu’s face was streaked with tears, his eyes bloodshot.

He struggled, screamed, hoping someone would save him.

In the pitch-black room, he felt utter despair...

Jiang Mingyu and Li Xuan, guarding outside, heard it and felt their hearts turn cold.

“True Immortal… what is she doing tonight?” Jiang Mingyu asked in panic.

“The method of absorbing Yang to replenish Yin,” Li Xuan whispered. “It’s our sect’s secret art—passed only to women, not men. So… I never learned it.”

“Will Commander Tuk survive the night?” Jiang Mingyu asked anxiously.

“With the True Immortal here…” Li Xuan patted his chest confidently. “Don’t worry.”

Jiang Mingyu frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The True Immortal knows the art of resurrection!” Li Xuan said solemnly.

Li Xuan continued: “If a person dies, the True Immortal can revive them within fifteen minutes.”

Jiang Mingyu felt slightly reassured and whispered: “Is this resurrection truly possible?”

Li Xuan nodded. “There are precedents. Last year… a deceased senior brother—the True Immortal pinched his palm and brought him back to life.”

Jiang Mingyu sighed in relief: “Good. If the True Immortal behaves normally, Commander Tuk should be fine.”

Li Xuan knew the truth but could not speak it. He smiled bitterly: “The True Immortal is capricious—don’t speak of it. Even if doom comes, you cannot escape it.”

Jiang Mingyu muttered coldly: “What fine words.”

Li Xuan opened his mouth to speak, then stopped, sighing: “Such things—perhaps fate cannot be defied.”

As they spoke, another piercing cry echoed from the guest room.

Both men grimaced, yet dared not intervene—only let it unfold.