Chapter 30

29. The Great Heart Elixir Scripture

Thud!

Seeing Yang Rui’s condition, Shi Danshi panicked and plopped onto the ground, then scrambled backward on hands and feet!

Zhou Sanji’s face froze.

Zhou Chang felt a chill surge up his spine, racing straight over the back of his neck!

He had once witnessed Shi Danshi pretending to be possessed, and at a glance he knew the boy was faking.

But now, seeing Yang Rui assume the demeanor of someone truly possessed by a “spirit,” Zhou Chang couldn’t tell if it was real or not.

Only when Yang Rui himself calmed his strange expression and coughed a few times did the eerie, heavy atmosphere ease slightly.

He glanced at Shi Danshi, who had retreated several steps, then lifted his head to meet Zhou Sanji’s unwavering gaze, his face finally showing embarrassment: “I thought I wasn’t acting convincingly enough, but I didn’t expect to scare you all…”

It seems Shi Danshi learned his ghostly tricks from me.”

“That’s right, Master!” Shi Danshi’s eyes welled with tears as he quickly crawled forward on his knees to Yang Rui’s side.

Yang Rui’s expression grew melancholy, his voice low: “Ghosts and spirits… they’re clearly not meant for me.

I can’t reach them…

Shi Danshi, I’m not blaming you for this.

All those things I said earlier—just forget them. Treat them as the ramblings of a foolish old man.”

“Thank you, Master! Grateful thanks, Master!”

Shi Danshi had finally passed this trial; he was deeply grateful and bowed repeatedly to Yang Rui.

At this moment, Zhou Sanji, who had remained silent until now, suddenly spoke: “It’s been over forty years already, Brother… Even a corpse would have turned to dust by now. Why are you still clinging to this delusion?”

“I gave up on it long ago. I let it go.” Yang Rui smiled and shook his head, taking up his wine gourd and drinking deeply.

Then Zhou Chang heard his almost ritualistic phrase: “Wine is medicine—it cures the heart’s sickness…”

“Brother, I’ve recently found a method to refine a ‘thought demon’ into a ‘heart elixir’—it’s called the Great Heart Elixir Scripture.” Yang Rui’s voice grew excited, his eyes gleaming, “Once mastered, this method lets you trap a thought demon within your own mind!

A-cui might be able to use this method—”

“Huang A-cui died over forty years ago, Brother.

You say you’ve let go.” Zhou Sanji stared fixedly at Yang Rui. “Where did you get this so-called scripture?”

At this, Yang Rui’s expression grew uneasy: “I poured all my effort into obtaining this Great Heart Elixir Scripture.”

“What kind of effort?”

“I traveled far and wide, seeking out every legendary adept whispered about in the martial world…”

“And then?”

“At a roadside stall by a bridge, I bought this book for five copper coins.”

“….”

“Bring me that scripture. Let’s study it together,” Zhou Sanji said, his tone serious.

“Yes! Yes!” Yang Rui hadn’t expected his brother to neither scold nor stop him—instead, he was actively offering to study the Great Heart Elixir Scripture with him.

He leapt to his feet, walking toward his bedroom as he spoke: “I always thought—if only there were a scripture that could guide cultivation, transforming thought demons into something useful—it would be perfect!

Then, right there by the bridge, I found that stall and bought this scripture!

This is fate, Brother! Even though the book’s price was printed as three copper coins, I paid five to the vendor to buy it back!”

“….”

Yang Rui brought out the Great Heart Elixir Scripture—only a dozen or so pages—and they all flipped through it together.

The first ten pages described its specific wonders, detailing the supernatural effects of cultivation, while the final three pages gave the actual method—pages filled with incomprehensible, malformed characters: missing radicals, twisted shapes, haphazardly assembled “pseudo-Chinese.”

“From these scribbles, you deduced the cultivation method?” Zhou Sanji frowned at Yang Rui.

“Of course! Don’t you see it, Brother?” Yang Rui pointed to the “pseudo-Chinese” characters. “Look at this passage—it says… it says…”

Yang Rui clearly wanted to describe something, but he clawed at his head, unable to articulate his exact perception.

Zhou Chang watched Yang Rui and realized: these people’s thoughts could no longer align with the true Yang Rui.

Like a normal person cannot understand a madman.

Zhou Sanji stared deeply at Yang Rui, then closed the scripture, walked into the woodshed, and tossed it into the stove to burn it to ash.

…

After reciting the Pure Heart Sutra at the door, Zhou Sanji and Yang Rui set off toward Meng Mountain outside town.

Today they were going to Iron Threshold Village to inquire about the end-of-month threshold fee for the Iron Threshold Gathering.

Zhou Chang and Gu Shitou headed to Yongsheng Wine Shop.

After the ordeal, Gu Shitou was dazed and walked silently beside Zhou Chang the whole way.

Only as they neared the wine shop did he grab Zhou Chang’s arm: “Big Brother Zhou, I heard that those who go to Jade Maiden Pond to watch the water don’t finish work until half an hour later than you.

By then, it’ll be nearly dark, and my master won’t come to fetch me—could you come find me? Let’s walk home together?”

“Of course.” Zhou Chang nodded.

The boy sighed in relief, his anxious expression fading: “Big Brother Zhou, you’re cold on the outside but kind at heart!”

He caught a rich aroma of braised meat and followed the scent to the opposite stall—“Li’s Braised Meat.”

“When I get paid this month, I’ll treat Big Brother Zhou to braised meat!” Shi Danshi said.

Zhou Chang also saw the stall—already lined with a long queue.

A plump woman in a leather apron used an iron hook to pull steaming, glossy-red dog carcasses from a giant boiling cauldron.

“Dog meat smells amazing!”

Shi Danshi licked his lips: “Master says, dog meat boiled three times—gods can’t stand still!”

“Nowadays, people barely have enough to eat—who still has the means to raise dogs?

Where does this stall get so many dogs?” Zhou Chang stared at the rows of hanging dog carcasses, frowning slightly. “Is this dog meat even legitimate?”

“Maybe they’re wild dogs caught outside,” Shi Danshi’s eyes flickered.

He knew all too well what wild dogs ate—corpses, even weak living people.

“Maybe.”

Zhou Chang nodded, lifted his left thumb, and pressed his ear close to the bone ring on it, listening carefully.

Inside the seven holes of the ring, there was no longer the boy’s cries or the puppy’s whimpers.

…

When Zhou Chang arrived at Yongsheng Wine Shop today, the staff had just opened the front gate.

As yesterday, a dense crowd had already gathered before the entrance.

Taking Shi Danshi with him, Zhou Chang found the wine shop’s foreman, who handed Shi Danshi off to a worker to take to Jade Maiden Pond, then led Zhou Chang to the back courtyard.

In the back courtyard.

Qian Chaodong, who had just arrived for work, sat in a round-backed chair, a wine flask and a dish of salted meat beside him on a high stool.

The fat man cradled a pure white dog, doting on it, picking up salted meat from the dish to feed it.

The white dog was plump, its fur spotless, clearly well cared for.

It showed little interest in the salted meat Qian Chaodong offered.

Usually, it chewed twice, then spat it out onto the ground.

Qian Chaodong didn’t mind; he merely smiled indulgently. Seeing Zhou Chang approach, his smile faded slightly as he gave a curt nod: “Wait a moment. You’re the first here today—wait until the first group is assembled before going down to the cellar.”

“Understood.”

Zhou Chang nodded, studying the fat dog in Qian Chaodong’s arms.

At that moment, the bone ring on his thumb trembled slightly. Zhou Chang raised his hand and heard, from the seven holes, a chorus of puppy growls—defiant, warning.

Were they reacting to a fellow dog?

Then why had there been no sound from the holes when he saw the dogs hanging at the braised meat stall?

Or was this white dog somehow different?

As these thoughts crossed his mind, Zhou Chang casually asked Qian Chaodong: “Manager Qian, you’re so busy every day—how do you find time to care for a dog?

This dog is beautiful—its fur has not a single speck of dirt. Raising one this pristine must be difficult.”