Chapter 56: Helping The Weak And Suppressing The Strong
Thick ink continuously seeped out, and parts of the Ghost Face phantoms began to fade, like tattoos weathered by the elements. Although they did not dissipate, the traces of their existence had indeed become much fainter.
Fortunately, ghosts do not die. Its supernatural power had not disappeared; it merely dripped onto the Shy Ghost, becoming part of the Shy Ghost.
“The Ghost Face’s supernatural power can’t withstand this level of attack. I wanted it to hold out against the Shy Ghost and then seize the opportunity to strike, but I didn’t expect its intensity to be so low… I must help it out.”
Zhang Qian muttered to himself and quickly found his direction.
There were two paths: either weaken the Shy Ghost’s terror level or strengthen the Ghost Face’s supernatural power.
Directly using True Qi to suppress the Shy Ghost could achieve the weakening purpose, but it was clearly handling the Ghost Face with ease, and it was unknown how far it was from its limit.
The Ghost Face was undead, but Zhang Qian was not. He did not want to risk clashing directly with the Shy Ghost.
The pattering sounds were like a countdown, urging Zhang Qian to make a decision.
“Ink Ghost Face… ink… I wonder if this will work?”
Ghost Hands emerged one by one from the corner, clustering around a small box and delivering it to Zhang Qian’s side.
With a click, the Gold Box opened, revealing an ancient paintbrush.
The paintbrush’s handle was a deep wooden color, wrapped with strange patterns, looking just like an ordinary brush pen.
Yet the tip was somewhat moist, as if it had not dried even after so long, still retaining paint left by its previous owner.
And that paint was exactly cyan-black.
Zhang Qian picked up the paintbrush and felt no supernatural corrosion, as if it were just an ordinary paintbrush.
But this was merely appearance. The painter in the Terror Tattoo Parlor had once used this paintbrush to launch a supernatural attack. If not for Zhang Qian’s existence, Feng Quan and the others would probably have been wiped out.
“The paintbrush and Ghost Face both come from the Tattoo Parlor. Since the Ghost Face is made of ink, it might have been drawn with this very paintbrush.”
He gently blew on it. “Since the quality is poor and it’s fading, I’ll refill it for you. Although I can’t draw, applying some color should be no problem, right?”
In fact, Zhang Qian had worried too much.
The moment the paintbrush touched the Ghost Face and the True Qi released its suppression, the paint on the tip began to surge outward on its own.
The Ghost Face accepted it without refusal, hungrily absorbing the remaining ink.
Gradually, the faded cyan-black became rich again, the Ghost Face’s depiction became more vivid, and its cyan-black fangs even emitted faint glints of cold light.
The paintbrush’s tip began to fade, shifting from pure black to a mix of black and white.
Zhang Qian’s spirits lifted. As expected, he had guessed correctly—the paintbrush’s ink and the Ghost Face shared the same origin, and the paint on it was the best supplement for the Ghost Face.
The Ghost Face’s gaze eerily shifted, as if it were molting from a mask into a true Ghost Face.
Or rather, not molting, but recovering.
It was originally just a small part of the boundless black smoke in the Tattoo Parlor, but Zhang Qian had cleverly split it off, causing its danger level to plummet.
If there were no other interference, if it could fully devour the paintbrush.
Perhaps the Ghost Face could truly restore its power and unleash boundless black smoke in an instant.
Unfortunately, the Shy Ghost’s attacks never ceased. The ink was still continuously draining, and the paint remaining on the paintbrush was nearly exhausted.
This was not futile effort. Zhang Qian could clearly feel the Ghost Face strengthening, surpassing its initial undamaged state.
“Crack—”
The last trace of paint on the tip was absorbed, and a tiny crack appeared on the handle.
Strands of black smoke emerged around the Ghost Face, swaying and drifting downward, but they dissipated in mid-air before seeping into the box.
The Ghost Face was still at a disadvantage, but it was enough.
“The Shy Ghost can no longer fully suppress the enhanced Ghost Face. It’s still stronger than the Ghost Face, but with my True Qi added, it might not be.”
Zhang Qian’s gaze sharpened, knowing his chance had come.
At this moment, most of the Shy Ghost’s supernatural power was tied up against the Ghost Face, greatly reducing its danger level—this was the opportunity he had been waiting for.
Without hesitation, a pale hand glowing faintly reached into the box, touching a hard object.
Terrifying supernatural power surged from the object’s surface, but the amount was too scant to contend with the True Qi possessing suppressive power.
“As expected… it can’t confront both me and the Ghost Face at the same time.”
At this point, the Shy Ghost posed no threat to Zhang Qian. The first step of alchemy—neutralizing the medicinal power—could barely be considered complete.
But whether the two ghosts could merge into a pill was the crucial problem.
Zhang Qian pressed the Ghost Face onto the Shy Ghost, then carefully stood up to glimpse its true appearance from the side.
Unexpectedly, the Shy Ghost was actually a white mask.
No, calling it a mask was not quite right, as it had no decorations—just a smooth curved surface. Calling it a face guard was more appropriate.
Its material was somewhat strange: hard yet very light, white with a faint dull yellow tint.
Somewhat like… bones?
“I don’t know what animal it came from. What kind of freak could grow bones like this?”
The ink that had dripped earlier had not disappeared; it gathered into spots on the face guard, like mottled tear stains.
However, what it looked like was unimportant to Zhang Qian. He just wanted to eat these two ghosts into his belly as soon as possible.
No choice—cultivation gains were nowhere near as much as popping pills.
By Zhang Qian’s estimate, the slowest method was dry sitting; next was confronting supernatural entities to stimulate True Qi activity; the most efficient was still taking pills.
He usually meditated and circulated True Qi to increase his cultivation, but compared to the first pill, it was negligible.
Confirming that the two ghosts showed no intent to resist after contact, Zhang Qian began refining the pill with peace of mind.
However, proper cultivators refined pills with furnaces and cauldrons, while Zhang Qian relied on his True Qi and a pair of ruthless iron hands.
In other words, rubbing them hard until the ghosts became a pill.
The two ghosts—or rather, the two ghost faces stuck together—one clockwise, one counterclockwise, rubbed rhythmically.
“Come to think of it, I still don’t know the principle behind this method. It just doesn’t feel very scientific.”
Zhang Qian was somewhat puzzled, but with the previous success of the Ghost Hands as precedent, he was too lazy to think too much.
Just rub and be done. Wang Xiaoming didn’t know why ghosts existed either, yet he still researched out high-end items like the Ghost Candle.
Retracting his thoughts, the two ghosts before him had changed but not much, probably because their terror level was high, making it difficult to refine with True Qi.
Fortunately, Zhang Qian did not lack patience. Sitting cross-legged on the ground, he gripped one ghost in each hand and rubbed tirelessly.
In ancient times, an old woman ground an iron pestle into a needle; today, Zhang Qian would grind two ghosts into a pill.
