Chapter 30: Beauty Like Tofu, Wisdom Sword Slays Mortal Men
Sure enough, just as Fang Shu had anticipated, the liquid in the Copper-Skinned Gourd was precisely the medicinal herb named Purple Lead Mica Milk.
It originates from lead-iron mine veins, is quite rare, and forms when lead-iron ore and mica ore mix to create stone pillars resembling stalactites, which slowly take shape over time as water drips relentlessly.
This substance naturally contains spiritual energy; one drop is equivalent to three Essence Nourishing Pills, and not just ordinary ones—it would take high-quality ones like Tiger Bone Essence Nourishing Pills to compare.
Additionally, Purple Lead Mica Milk is an excellent material for pill refining, medicine refining, artifact refining, and drawing talismans; it can also be used in cultivating certain secret skills to substitute for or reduce the toxicity of some materials.
Long-term consumption can increase the strength of human bones, and if combined with certain medicinal herbs, it may even forge a body with lead-iron bones.
Fang Shu suspected that Cheng Guanzi had relied on this substance, hiring someone to compound medicine, to break through into the Dao, advancing to a First Calamity Immortal, and tempering his bones to be harder than iron.
Unfortunately, Fang Shu currently did not know any pill master or medicine master, nor did he dare to casually expose the Purple Lead Mica Milk he held.
“Hey! Customer, don’t go! If you think the price is too low, let’s negotiate it again.”
In a certain pawn shop, a pawnbroker hurriedly came down from behind the high counter, his demeanor shifting from arrogant to obsequious as he called out to Fang Shu.
Seeing that Fang Shu had no intention of turning back, the pawnbroker stopped and stamped his foot, cursing under his breath:
“Poor wretch, playing me! Can’t he afford to hire an appraiser, so he’s here to scam?”
Indeed, as the pawn shop pawnbroker had guessed, Fang Shu had deliberately come to the pawn shop, pretending to pawn or sell, to inquire about information on Purple Lead Mica Milk—especially any potentially negative details.
After all, if there was even a hint of risk or flaw in the stuff, pawn shop pawnbrokers would often exaggerate it tenfold to devalue it.
Even if they didn’t say everything, it could still point him in the right direction.
Fortunately, after inquiring around, Fang Shu found that aside from needing to consume Purple Lead Mica Milk intermittently in batches, with limited amounts per person, there were no other major risks.
This was a heavenly treasure for the essence refining level, capable of nourishing an Essence Refining Immortal’s qi and blood with almost no risks.
And for someone like Fang Shu, who had not yet entered the Dao and was a third-rate immortal cultivator, Purple Lead Mica Milk even offered the benefit of increasing his chances of entering the Dao.
Having learned all this.
Fang Shu’s mood was even more joyful, no less than the moment his Insect Skill reached perfection.
Especially after he tried consuming a drop of the mica milk, his heart was even more satisfied, suddenly feeling that his immortal path was a bit brighter.
For a moment.
Fang Shu had gained money and treasure, plus a map that highly resembled a mining treasure site; he was in high spirits with joy, beaming all over.
However, only Li Hou Er, who often dealt with him, could barely make out a bit of that joy.
The other didn’t take it seriously, assuming it was just good stuff sent to Fang Shu by his Second Uncle Yu Le.
Amid such joy, Fang Shu naturally hadn’t forgotten his Second Uncle.
This day.
He carried a bottle of Rejuvenating Sheep Fat Ointment he had haggled for at Luo Bao Zhai, slipped in under cover of night, strolled into the paper workshop, and knocked on Dou Su Fu’s paper door.
Fang Shu hadn’t made prior arrangements with her this time.
He wanted to inquire about a few things again and thank her for the milk tofu last time.
Dou Su Fu cracked open the door, saw it was Fang Shu, and as if she had been expecting him, smiled and said:
“Young Brother Fang, what brings you to our door in the middle of the night?”
Fang Shu cupped his hands and presented the medicine bottle: “Sorry to bother Sister Dou, I have important matters to consult today.”
“Since that’s the case, come in quickly.”
Dou Su Fu didn’t ask what it was; she fully opened the paper door and, as if prepared in advance, took out two wine bowls and a wine pot from the room.
After they sat down, before Fang Shu could speak, she happily poured the wine and started drinking herself.
“These past few days have really pent me up.”
Dou Su Fu chattered on: “Finally caught someone who can listen to Sister share some happy news.”
Fang Shu listened patiently for a while before realizing that ever since Cheng Guanzi was stabbed to death by him, all the paper workshop neighbors had been delighted.
Especially after Cheng Xiao Guanzi died too, it was as if a stone had finally fallen from everyone’s hearts, and the entire paper workshop was full of joy.
But facing such a brutal killing, with the murderer still nowhere to be found, the neighbors worried about being scapegoated and didn’t dare discuss it in daily life.
As a widow with no one to rely on, Dou Su Fu was even more tight-lipped, afraid of any suspicion of being involved with the killer.
Thus, Dou Su Fu had been holding it in for a long time, unable to find anyone to share this good news with.
Now that Fang Shu had finally come—and both families had grudges against Cheng Guanzi, with some foundation of trust between them—Fang Shu became the confidant she had long awaited.
As Dou Su Fu talked and drank, her cheeks gradually flushed red, her eyes growing hazy.
Fortunately, when Fang Shu asked about his business after listening for a while, she could still answer clearly, seemingly confident in her tolerance.
But her clear answer made Fang Shu’s mood sink:
“Yes, Cheng Guanzi is dead, and no one’s come to collect rent from the paper workshop for the time being, so your Second Uncle could indeed return. But there’s no helping it—he signed a long-term contract.”
Dou Su Fu explained:
“In the mine, short-term contracts are half a month to a year; long-term ones start at at least a year, with food and lodging in the mine, only able to send letters or goods via others.
In other words, your Second Uncle has to mine in the mine for at least a year before he can come back.”
Fang Shu’s brows immediately furrowed as he asked gravely:
“If I insist on getting Second Uncle back, how much money do I need to prepare to settle that long-term contract?”
Dou Su Fu gave him a smiling look and shook her head:
“It’s not just a matter of money. Besides preparing talisman money for the breach, you must have strong backing to accompany you into the mine to get the person out.
Otherwise, the mine won’t even acknowledge you and might just swallow your talisman money without releasing the person.”
She sized Fang Shu up and down, then said:
“To get your Second Uncle out, either hire someone or wait until you yourself become a First Calamity Immortal to retrieve him. The latter is best, since there are so many people in the mine, and you’d have to search one by one.
Hiring other immortal cultivators to leave the marketplace with you carries risks, and they won’t have the patience anyway.”
These words twisted Fang Shu’s brows into knots.
He said lowly:
“A year? But I’ve heard the mine is quite dangerous; the longer you mine, the more likely bad things happen—even getting stuck inside forever.”
He truly didn’t know if his Second Uncle Yu Le could hold out.
Dou Su Fu thought carefully and comforted:
“No need to be so urgent. In the mine, those on long-term contracts are definitely safer than short-term or temporary miners for most of the early period.”
She gave Fang Shu a meaningful look:
“Only near completion or when the contract is about to end do long-term miners face the greatest danger.
In other words, you have more than half a year to prepare slowly. The chance of Yu Lao Er running into trouble in this time isn’t high.”
Fang Shu wasn’t stupid; he understood the implication at once.
In the early stage of a mine contract, since pay to miners is low and mining time short, they can’t accumulate much money or easily pocket valuables.
But once the contract nears its end, the miner is about to leave.
No mine would willingly let “slaves” go; they would obstruct in every way, squeeze out the last benefits like using up trash, even tacitly allowing other miners to covet their possessions and kill for profit.
In short, a mine is a man-eating place—easy to enter, extremely hard to leave.
Fang Shu needed some magic power, or status, or connections to smoothly extract his Second Uncle Yu Le early.
Pondering this, he let out a long breath and nodded:
“Thanks, Sister Dou. I understand.”
Seeing Fang Shu nod, Dou Su Fu didn’t care if he truly understood or not; with a look of matters settled, she began urging him to drink in various ways.
After a few cups, Dou Su Fu had overestimated herself and underestimated Fang Shu.
She was full of alcohol fumes, eyes dreamy, as if hanging directly on Fang Shu.
Looking at Fang Shu’s extremely youthful face, Dou Su Fu seemed to see her husband from ten years ago, equally young.
Or rather, her memory of her husband’s features had long blurred—after all, their time truly together had been extremely short.
“Husband…” The woman propped one hand on the low table, murmuring indistinctly.
Fang Shu couldn’t hear what she said but knew Dou Su Fu was drunk.
He planned to take his leave.
But just then, sounds of quarreling, running, and sobbing rose from the neighboring houses—exactly like Su Qin Gao fleeing her home at night again.
So Fang Shu obediently sat back down, planning to wait a bit longer before leaving.
“Cheap whore, where are you running? Come back quick to steep the dates for me.”
The old man’s shrill, acerbic cursing continued: “I keep you to help steep dates… Take smaller steps, careful not to ruin them.”
“No, don’t.”
Su Qin Gao’s crying seemed even more humiliated and numb than last time.
But as before, she didn’t hold out long before being dragged back to the neighboring paper house amid beating and scolding.
Fang Shu withdrew his gaze, looked puzzled at Dou Su Fu beside him, and asked:
“Does this old man and young wife make such a racket every night? After so long, just steeping a bath leads to all this death-defying fuss?”
Hearing this, Dou Su Fu’s face flushed even redder; she hung her head, not daring to look at Fang Shu.
Her voice was as fine as a mosquito’s, as she secretly spat: “Shameless.”
After spitting, she looked at the naive young Fang Shu before her and absurdly teased:
“Does little brother want to eat dates too?”
Fang Shu was stunned, but he wasn’t truly naive—that was all an act.
Besides, though he didn’t know what steeping dates meant, he knew the woman before him.
Right now, this woman had let down her guard, was tipsy, and in a state of arrogant flirtation— the perfect moment to take advantage.
Fang Shu was confident that with a gentle push and some force, she would be helpless, calling to heaven and earth to no avail, the rice cooked into porridge on the spot, thoroughly subdued.
But such amorous thoughts merely circled his mind once before he cut them off.
Fang Shu chuckled lightly and murmured:
“A sixteen-year beauty soft as cream, I wield a wise sword to cut down mortal men.”
“Hm?” Dou Su Fu, face red, leaned in closer, not having heard clearly.
Fang Shu smiled at her and ordered her to open her mouth.
Drunkenly, she lifted her face as told, red lips parting slightly.
Smack!
Fang Shu flicked a sobering pill into her mouth, then rose, cupped his hands in farewell, and left without mercy.
No cliffhanger this chapter. Monthly tickets, please!
