Chapter 8: Refining Medicine
“No problem.” Zhao Jianguo didn’t ask too many questions and readily agreed. There were plenty of weirdos among Ghost Controllers, and liking to eat medicine was already considered a relatively normal hobby.
He sent a few instructions, then said, “It should be ready by this evening, and I’ll call you then.”
“Good, thanks.” Zhang Qian hung up the phone, grabbed his mobile phone, and went out to find food. Having not eaten for over half a day, he felt like he was starving to death.
Huacheng was a massive metropolis, but unfortunately, the place where Zhang Qian lived was just Old Town, so he had always thought his family was ordinary. Until his dad made one phone call and arranged for him to stay in the best mental hospital in the city, in a luxury single room no less.
But after so many years, he was used to it. At least the people in Old Town were quite enthusiastic, and he knew his neighbors well.
Zhang Qian familiarly found a noodle shop in the residential area and ordered a bowl of his usual beef noodles.
The boss wiped the table and asked curiously, “Little Zhang, it’s been a while since I last saw you. You didn’t come back even during the holiday—where did you go?”
“I went traveling in the mountains…” Although he was staying in a mental hospital.
“Going out more is indeed good for the body.” The boss brought the noodles to Zhang Qian, with a fried egg included as a bonus. “Eat slowly, get more if it’s not enough.”
“Good, thanks Uncle Li.”
Zhang Qian took out his mobile phone and logged into the forum, browsing posts while eating. The posts from these Ghost Controllers were all over the place, and since it was anonymous, everyone spoke freely—it was perfect for accompanying a meal.
However, because the threshold was relatively low, most of them were meaningless spam posts. Some were comparing how terrifying their ghosts were, others were bragging about how powerful they were. Only the occasionally appearing gray-white avatars proved they weren’t just a bunch of lunatics.
《Shock! Facing the Ghost Church, the US actually did this!》
The exaggerated title piqued Zhang Qian’s curiosity, and he clicked in to find it was a video.
In the video, there was a small church covered in moss on its outer walls, with peeling paint, looking very old. At the church entrance, a blurry figure stood there, seemingly with hands clasped in devout prayer.
Eerie yet sacred, bizarre yet solemn—even through the video, Zhang Qian could feel that chilling sense of grotesqueness.
Suddenly, a pitch black B2 bomber roared overhead, dropping a bomb that accurately hit the church.
The flames of the explosion engulfed the church, shaking the video’s perspective.
When the perspective finally stabilized and the flames gradually dissipated, the explosion site was a scorched wasteland, yet the church still stood amid the flames. A bomb of such immense power hadn’t even scraped off a bit of wall plaster.
At the end of the video, the black shadow at the church entrance slowly walked out, flickering as it approached the camera.
“Zzz——”
The video ended, and Zhang Qian smoothed the goosebumps on his arms. “Is this what a powerful ghost is like? It’s already reached the realm of shrinking the ground into an inch. As expected, not every ghost is as useless as the Ghost Hand.”
This sense of oppression was too strong. If the first ghost he encountered was of this level, forget subduing it—Zhang Qian didn’t even have confidence he could escape.
But the comments under the video were full of cheer:
“Brothers, I stole US military secrets to entertain you all—am I good or what?”
“What a strong ghost. Good thing it didn’t appear here.”
“I hereby declare that from now on, I’m a church stan. Who’s the Butcher? Never heard of him.”
“Stupid dog upstairs, identification complete. Tech means can’t deal with any ghost— what’s so special about this church?”
“When will the official release a Fierce Ghost grading system to shut up you combat power comparers?”
“…”
“Zhang Qian?!”
Zhang Qian was watching intently when he heard someone calling his name from behind. Turning around, he saw a girl with long straight black hair.
“Long time no see. I couldn’t find you after senior year graduation, and you didn’t come to the class reunion either. What have you been busy with?” The girl greeted him enthusiastically, pulled her suitcase over, and sat across from Zhang Qian. She called to the boss, “Uncle Li, get me a bowl of beef noodles too. I’m exhausted from rushing for the bus.”
“Coming right up.”
“It really has been a long time.” Zhang Qian put down his chopsticks, his expression serious. So who was this person? Although she was definitely a beauty, Zhang Qian had no impression of her.
“How about it, I’ve changed a lot, right?” Seeming to notice Zhang Qian’s confusion, the girl smoothed her hair and said, “I’m Yu Xin.”
“?” Zhang Qian found it hard to connect the radiant, vibrant beauty in front of him with the former bespectacled, silent high school classmate. Had she gotten plastic surgery?
“Long time no see. You’ve become much prettier now.” Zhang Qian praised her sincerely.
“Thanks! After the college entrance exam, I wanted to learn to dress up too.” Taking the noodles, Yu Xin continued, “I finally caught you—how about we hang out? Everyone misses you.”
“Maybe later. Boss, how much in total?” Zhang Qian pulled out his mobile phone to scan and pay. “Eat slowly, I have something to do so I’ll head out first.”
“Hey, so soon? Want to go out later?”
“Definitely next time, bye.” Without waiting for her reply, Zhang Qian got up and slipped away. How could women compare to cultivation? Not even beautiful ones!
After returning home and meditating for a few hours, Zhang Qian finally received the call from Headquarters and took a special car to a place resembling a factory.
An old man in his sixties stood in front of a pile of medicinal herbs, holding a notebook and occasionally marking something on it.
“Mr. Zhang, this is the place.” The escort saluted and waited at the door.
Hearing the movement, the old man looked at Zhang Qian and nodded. “Not bad, you have a heroic bearing.”
He had originally thought Zhang Qian was a middle-aged man in his thirties or forties, but he turned out to be so young.
“Tell me, what effect do you want from the medicine?” After checking the medicinal herbs, the old man confidently promised, “Everything’s prepared here. Whatever effect you want, I can do it.”
“Really?”
“Of course. I, Wang Shijin, have a bit of a reputation outside.” Seeing Zhang Qian’s disbelief, the old man introduced himself. “Whether it’s for dispelling cold and lumps or tonifying and regulating, I know a thing or two. I even have a few formulas for yin-nourishing kidney-tonifying tonics.”
“Then I’m relieved.” Zhang Qian began making requests to the old man. “I need a medicine that can enhance internal energy.”
Wang Shijin paused. “Are you here to mess with me? Chinese medicine has many effects, but enhancing that internal energy nonsense is absolutely absurd.”
“Sigh, I knew you wouldn’t.” Zhang Qian sighed. It was a pity his senior was still in a coma; otherwise, he wouldn’t need to ask Headquarters for help. “I’ll wait for someone else then.”
“What do you mean by that?” Hearing this, Wang Shijin felt insulted. “The principle of refining medicine is just extracting the essence and discarding the dross. What medicinal herb in this world can increase internal energy?”
“Hmm… you know, you’re not wrong.” Zhang Qian took out the golden box from his backpack and opened it, revealing a slender palm. “Why don’t you see if this thing can be used in medicine?”
