Chapter 198: Shedding Fur And Changing Skin, Why Not Submit?
The cold wind carried scattered snow, pouring into He Qiang’s half-open courtyard gate.
He Qiang hurriedly returned home, placing the handled box containing dishes that he had packed separately for Wan Niang on the stove.
Only then did he rush toward the bedroom, calling out,
“Xiao Su, are you feeling better?”
A skinny dead camel is still bigger than a horse.
Even though He Qiang had reached the edge of desperation, he had not yet fallen to the point of sleeping on the street without a tile over his head.
The home was a siheyuan courtyard, facing south from the north, spacious and neat.
But the valuable things in the house had all been sold or pawned, leaving it bare with four empty walls.
Lifting the door curtain, the bedroom had only a single bean oil lamp lit.
In the dim yellow light, one could vaguely see a woman lying on the bed, her figure thin as a bamboo pole, her face deathly pale.
Blue bedding wrapped around her, almost hiding the rise and fall of her chest.
Her legs had atrophied, her whole body seeming to weigh less than two taels.
But though Xiao Su had been bedridden for many years, her body had no foul odor; her hair was soft, her nails clean, and even the bedding emitted a faint soapberry fragrance.
Clearly, over these years, He Qiang had taken extremely good care of his sick wife.
Hearing the voice, Xiao Su slowly raised her head higher on the pillow, forcing a smile on her pale face, revealing teeth still stained with blood, and said,
“Thanks to Sister Wang next door taking care of me… He Lang, I’m much better.”
Her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s, yet crisp and lively, like grass sprouts barely emerging in the cold winter.
He Qiang looked at Xiao Su a few times, seeing she did not seem to be lying, and slightly relieved, he walked to the extinguished small medicine jar, poking at the dregs in the earthenware pot.
“Xiao Su, wait a moment, I’ll brew another dose of medicine for you, and you’ll feel better after taking it.”
Xiao Su’s leprosy required long-term use of a great medicine called the ‘Bitter Ginseng Wine Formula’.
It needed five jin of top-grade bitter ginseng, five taels of exposed wasp nests, one hedgehog skin, and three jin of koji.
The other medicinal herbs were manageable, but the top-grade bitter ginseng was a rare mountain good, growing only in the West Mountain near the capital region.
Thus, this formula was not cheap; an ordinary household’s monthly earnings from food might not even buy one dose.
And Xiao Su’s dosage had grown ever larger.
When she was young and first fell ill, two doses a month sufficed.
Now, it was one dose every seven or eight days.
With He Qiang’s former monthly salary, plus the various profits he skimmed and the tribute from merchants, it had been more than enough to support treating Xiao Su’s illness.
But now, He Qiang was struggling to keep up.
He had already decided that in the coming days, he would go to the West Mountain to gather ginseng himself, brew and refine the medicinal herbs to save some silver.
But…
This was a bottomless pit.
He Qiang was.
Xiao Su was too.
He Qiang busied himself, casually taking scissors to stir the dregs in the medicine jar, then placing it on the stool.
“Xiao Su, don’t worry, in the Wuqing Sticky Rod Bureau, there’s a precious pill called the ‘Barrier Breaking Pill’, perfectly suited to my current situation—even with chaotic meridians and qi deviation, one pill can force a breakthrough!”
He Qiang brought the medicine bowl, helping Xiao Su drink it down, then continued to comfort her,
“The landlord treats me well, advancing me a great merit. Once I take the Barrier Breaking Pill and become a True Intent Master, I’ll continue treating your illness…”
“Mm… He Lang, go boil some hot water, I want to wipe my body.”
Xiao Su gripped He Qiang’s hand, her fingertips ice-cold.
“Alright, alright…”
He Qiang immediately turned and left the room, went to the kitchen, added firewood and water, busied himself, and only then carried hot water back to the room.
Just as he lifted the door curtain.
Thud!
The wooden basin fell to the ground, hot water splashing up, white mist instantly spreading.
He Qiang stared blankly at the figure on the ground, devoid of breath.
Xiao Su still clutched the scissors tightly in both hands, inserted into her own throat.
Her knuckles white from the force.
From the wound, not much blood had flowed out.
On the ground, there was also a white paper, clearly written in neat handwriting—
I do not wish to burden He Lang any longer. May we meet again in the next life.
He did not know how much time passed,
He Qiang stumbled out, dazed and distraught, falling onto the stone slab in front of the door, sitting on the ground, staring blankly at the bustling street.
He Qiang felt that he had never done anything wrong.
Though his parents had died when he was young, and he herded pigs for a living.
He neither stole nor robbed, neither gambled nor whored.
He met a good woman, paid respects to the Black Boar, diligently practiced martial arts, sought teachers everywhere, entered the water station…
Even after achieving success and fame, he did not forget Xiao Su, his childhood sweetheart; he married her, they respected each other as equals.
Even in the workplace, though he had conflicts with Lin Shou Zhuo and others, it was always direct, never ambushing or harming others.
But since he had done nothing wrong, why had he fallen to this state?
The cold wind carried snowflakes blowing in, landing on his face, yet he was utterly unaware.
“Hahaha, let’s go, go drink!”
“Heard about it? Zhang Xiangling from Tongzhou, such a young heavenly pride, arrived in our Wuqing County today; all those high-door great households are fawning over her… Shall we go join the fun?”
“Join what fun? You don’t know yet, that Zhang heavenly pride, on the gate tower under the moonlight, defeated twelve heroes of Wuqing in a row… That bullshit Transport Chief Zhu Tao, the young landlord of Libao Trading Company, all left gray-faced and defeated. But in the end, she still narrowly lost to that Xiao Lian Gong Jing Zhai who chased her from Tongzhou.”
“Now, Xiao Lian Gong Jing Zhai has booked Song He Xuan for a month, specially for Miss Zhang to stay; all the nobles of Wuqing County, men and women alike, are eagerly shoving calling cards at Song He Xuan! Where did this beggar come from, don’t block the way, get lost!!”
On the street, a few young masters rode tall horses, reeking of alcohol, whipped a roadside beggar, then laughed and spurred their horses past.
He Qiang sat on the moss-covered, chipped steps, staring blankly upward.
His gaze pierced through layers of moonlight and brilliant lamps, vaguely seeing Song He Xuan.
Truly like nine-fold palaces, phoenix towers at heaven’s gate.
Music of pipes and strings resounded, bright as daylight.
All who came and went were from noble crimson gates, the laughing ones all imperial sons and kings’ grandsons.
Why could they stand high above, never making mistakes no matter what?
While he, with a single misstep, faced eternal damnation?
He Qiang did not understand.
“Don’t understand? You can go ask them yourself.”
Suddenly, a hoarse voice, eerie and sinister, came from behind He Qiang.
He abruptly turned his head to look.
An old lady with bound feet, clad entirely in black, a pipe in her mouth, had at some point squatted beside He Qiang.
On the old lady’s wrist was tied a red string.
The other end of the red string leashed a fat boy with red lips and white teeth.
The fat boy looked aggrieved.
“Who are you?” He Qiang asked in confusion.
“Silly boy, don’t you recognize me?!”
The old lady smiled, knocking her pipe on the steps!
With a clatter—
Instantly, clouds and mist rose, swirling like a bone-chilling strange wind, the old lady’s figure vanishing into the smoke.
The smoke was slowly stirred by an invisible giant hand, forming a deep vortex.
A pair of eyes emitting cold light suddenly lit up, dragging trails of afterimages in the mist.
“You have paid respects to me for many years; today you see me, why do you not bow?”
In the next instant, a massive head, icy cold, protruded from the vortex’s center.
Fangs curved, bristles draped, revealing the head of a Black Boar.
No roar, no panting.
Only a silent gaze, bringing extreme pressure that froze the marrow.
He Qiang froze in place, staring in disbelief at the Black Boar before him, eyes wide.
The Black Boar he had worshipped was real?
“Absorb the world’s turbid qi, swallow the mortal realm’s suffering; today, induct Ti Shi into my sacred cult.”
The Black Boar spoke in human tongue, its voice as hoarse as the old lady’s.
“Nine stars mark birth, three lights capture spirit. Vast emptiness, within true essence; withered then flourishing, extinguished then reborn, urgently as commanded by the Great Black Heavenly Mother!”
As the words fell, a pitch-black pig skin silently fell behind He Qiang’s house, directly wrapping the deceased Xiao Su.
The pig skin immediately covered Xiao Su’s corpse, merging into the membrane; with a flash of light, it dragged her across the ground for two steps.
At first jerky as clockwork, legs straight; gradually flexible, rushing like a sprint—unknown if truly revived from death or possessed by pig spirit.
“He Lang~”
The crisp voice rang out again.
He Qiang whipped his head back, a glint of light in his eyes.
“Hahaha, now that you have joined the cult, come with me!”
The old lady cackled twice, black mist surged, swallowing He Qiang and Xiao Su within.
Gloomy clouds and miserable fog roamed, faint roars of wild beasts heard; when the mist dispersed, no trace of them remained.
Yet on the street, people came and went as usual, even brushing past the black mist beside them, utterly oblivious.
As if an invisible force filled heaven and earth, quietly altering everyone’s six senses.
In a nearby wall corner, a gaunt old beggar huddled in the shadows.
His patched cotton jacket was full of patches, a fresh whip mark on his left arm still oozing blood.
The old beggar glanced indifferently this way.
“Fu Rang Sacred Cult, the technique of shedding fur and changing skin?”
He muttered softly to himself, then wiped his eye socket, plucking out an eyeball.
The object was round and slick, soft and elastic like a living person’s eyeball.
But the beggar squeezed it, and it split into long yellow tendrils resembling purple cluster ginseng, which he tucked into his bosom.
In his dark socket, fleshy buds wriggled, growing a new eyeball.
Zhang Wei looked at his empty broken bowl, then at the whip mark on his body, shaking his head helplessly.
Wuqing County’s customs were too poor; begging all day yielded not a single copper coin, and he even got whipped by some playboy sons.
“Fu Rang Sacred Cult, Caobang, Libao Trading Company, water station, Four Great Pounding Houses… Quite lively indeed.”
Zhang Wei stood, preparing to head to the next spot.
Just then, Zhang Wei shuddered all over, struck as by lightning, a trace of blood spilling from his mouth.
A wisp of black mist landed on him; the ginseng tendrils in his bosom, as if provoked, suddenly gathered into an eyeball, shooting out like a bolt of silk, striking the black mist.
The black mist dispersed, Zhang Wei’s face turning grave.
Then, an eerie voice sounded in the beggar’s ear—
“I wondered which junior dared spy on the Great Black Heavenly Mother; turns out it’s a ‘Mist Gauze Child’ permitted to glimpse immortal visage… Now, a slight punishment to uphold immortal might—have the cultivator behind you come with a thorned staff to plead guilt at Bajia Village!”
Mist Gauze Heavenly Law: Mist shrouds the sky, true dragon hides its scales; clearly Supreme Unity descends to mortal realm, immortal before one’s eyes, yet mistaken for mist gauze encounter—unknown, unheard, unseen… Six senses blinded, knowledge becomes barrier.
Ordinary people exhaust their lives shrouded under this heavenly law.
This is the vastest, boundless heavenly law spanning heaven and earth.
Only cultivators, and ‘Mist Gauze Children’ like Zhang Wei who borrow immortal fate, can pierce this heavenly law.
Without piercing it, one is but an ant.
Even looking up at the sky, that sky is what cultivators allow ordinary people to see.
