After someone died in Anyuan County, the family generally kept vigil for three days, lest the deceased's ghost return home and fail to find their family, becoming a lone wandering soul. This was also the time for relatives, friends, and former colleagues to come and pay their respects.
After three days came the burial, when the coffin was laid in the grave. Xiang Yang was only a fifteen-year-old youth. Though he knew some martial arts, he was not skilled at such cumbersome matters. Fortunately, Mr. Liu handled everything for him.
Xiang Da Niu's grave was located on Yuanbao Mountain, more than ten li from the county town. The mountain was not high and covered only several dozen li, but because it was shaped like a yuanbao, many considered it a place of excellent feng shui. Burying one's ancestors there might not bring great wealth and high rank, but it could at least bless future generations.
Before the mound of black earth, yellow spirit money lay scattered everywhere. A long bluish-white gravestone stood upright, bearing the words: "Grave of my late father, Xiang Da Niu. Erected by his son, Xiang Yang." On the back was an account Xiang Yang had asked a stone mason in the county town to carve: Xiang Da Niu's glorious deeds in battling mountain bandits and beheading two of them—a record of his life.
Xiang Yang wore a white headcloth and white mourning robes. His handsome face was solemn as he respectfully kowtowed three times before Xiang Da Niu's gravestone, silently reciting in his heart,
"From this day forth, I am Xiang Yang. If Father's spirit watches from heaven, you must bless me so I can find the mastermind, cut down my enemy with my own hand, and avenge you."
Beside Xiang Yang stood the Wild Goose Feather Saber, its cold gleam flashing as it was planted in the ground, along with the wine gourd Xiang Da Niu had used to buy liquor in life. A cool breeze stirred the green tassel hanging from the saber's hilt, adding a touch of bleak desolation.
After kowtowing, Xiang Yang rose, drew his saber, and picked up the wine gourd. He pulled out the stopper and poured the gourd's clear, sweet liquor over the Wild Goose Feather Saber. The wine streamed down the shining, razor-sharp blade with a rushing sound and spilled onto the ground—using saber and wine alike to offer sacrifice to Xiang Da Niu.
Behind Xiang Yang, Mr. Liu, clad in azure robes, watched with a sigh. Xiang Da Niu's life had not been stormy or spectacular, yet he had changed his fate in the end. From a farmer tilling soil and field ridges, he had become a heroic constable who slew bandits and earned praise from the county magistrate. His life had not been lived in vain.
"Uncle Liu, thank you for helping me these past two days. Another day, this nephew will set a table at home and invite all the elders for a meal, merely to show my gratitude. Please do not disdain it."
Mr. Liu smiled and nodded. Seeing the resolute look on Xiang Yang's face, he felt relieved. The death of his kin had not crushed this youth. Good—then Da Niu could rest easy beneath the Yellow Springs.
After returning to the county town and entering East City Street, Xiang Yang found an excuse to part ways with Mr. Liu and headed alone toward Huichun Hall.
Huichun Hall was the most renowned pharmacy and clinic in the county town. Its owner, An Daoquan, possessed extraordinary medical skill. Once, he had operated free of charge on a rough man with a pus-filled growth as large as a bowl on his back, successfully saving the man's life. His fame had soared, and he became known as Divine Physician An, a doctor with both skill and virtue.
Ever since childhood, Xiang Yang had gone to Huichun Hall whenever he caught a cold. Usually, two or three doses of medicine would cure him completely. It was an honest establishment. Thus, this time, since cultivating the Iron Crotch Technique required medicinal decoctions to be taken internally, he had also come to Huichun Hall to have them prepared, avoiding the risk of encountering unscrupulous merchants selling fake medicine.
Standing before Huichun Hall's entrance and watching the endless stream of patients coming and going, Xiang Yang adjusted the Wild Goose Feather Saber in his hand, lifted his head, and strode inside.
The moment he entered, a pharmacy clerk came forward. Seeing Xiang Yang in mourning clothes, the clerk's eyes showed a trace of distaste, though none appeared on his face. But when his gaze swept over the Wild Goose Feather Saber in Xiang Yang's left hand, his attitude immediately took a sharp turn.
"Is this young hero here to see a doctor or buy medicine? If you need treatment, I recommend Doctor Zhao in the clinic. If you're buying medicine, this lowly one can serve you."
Xiang Yang's eyes were sharp. He caught the fleeting distaste and disgust in the clerk's eyes, but paid it no mind. With a grave expression, he merely nodded and said,
"I'm here to buy medicine. Fill the prescription I wrote. If you short the weight or mix in counterfeit medicine, I'll hold you alone accountable."
He feared that the young clerk, being superstitious about someone in mourning, might not take proper care in filling his prescription, so his tone was harsh.
The clerk fearfully glanced at the Wild Goose Feather Saber in Xiang Yang's hand, then hurriedly bent at the waist and led him to the medicine cabinets. Taking the yellow paper Xiang Yang handed over, he scanned it once and began gathering the medicine.
Meanwhile, Xiang Yang looked around and carefully examined Huichun Hall. The spacious interior was divided in two. The side he stood in was the pharmacy, its four walls covered with medicinal ingredients. His nose was filled with their scent, and the medicine cabinets were all made from valuable wood, offering excellent preservation.
Beside the clerk filling his prescription, four similarly dressed clerks were serving other customers buying medicine, each one busy beyond measure. There was little to say about the patients around them: some wore sickly, sallow faces, while others coughed and wheezed without pause. All had come here for treatment and were buying medicine to take home.
On the other side was the consultation room where doctors saw patients, screened off by a dark yellow curtain. Vague shadows could be seen within; they were likely patients waiting for diagnosis. Xiang Yang counted them and clicked his tongue inwardly. No matter what world it was, being a doctor was profitable.
The clerk filling the prescription worked quickly. Before long, he had gathered all the medicinal ingredients Xiang Yang required, wrapped them in yellow paper, and handed the packet over.
"Young hero, your medicine is ready. The weight is absolutely full, and the efficacy is excellent. However, the price is a little steep. The total comes to twenty-five taels and three mace. Since you're a major customer, this lowly one will make the decision to waive the three mace. Just pay twenty-five taels."
Xiang Yang's phoenix eyes flew wide open, and he nearly cursed aloud. Damn it, after burying his father and paying all the necessary expenses, his household had only a little over seventy taels of silver left. That would not even cover three batches in total—how was he supposed to practice martial arts like this?
The medicine clerk was a perceptive man. Knowing Xiang Yang did not understand medicine or the details of medicinal ingredients, he hurriedly explained, "Please calm your anger, young hero. The dodder seed, cistanche, schisandra, polygala, plantain seed, and the rest in your prescription are not expensive. The key is the seven mace of He Shou Wu—it accounts for the lion's share of the silver. This lowly one has absolutely not cheated you."
Xiang Yang thought it over and realized that was indeed the case. Many of the ingredients used in the Iron Crotch Technique's medicinal decoction were common enough. Only He Shou Wu was the most crucial ingredient, as its powerful essence was needed to stimulate the medicine's effects. Even the brewing process had its own special rules; the heat and sequence were both secret methods.
"Forget it. Give me the medicine. These three coins are your reward. When I come to buy medicine again, I'll look for you."
Taking the medicine packet, he pulled twenty-five taels of silver from his robe and handed them to the young clerk. After thinking for a moment, he gritted his teeth and picked out another three coins to reward him.
Xiang Yang would certainly need to practice martial arts often in the future, and the medicinal decoctions required for cultivation were extremely important. This clerk seemed decent enough. More importantly, he was timid and would not dare to fool him with fake medicine or inferior, ineffective goods.
The clerk accepted the three coins with a smiling face, but inwardly spat in disdain. He had saved Xiang Yang a full three hundred coins, yet Xiang Yang rewarded him with only three. The richer people were, the stingier they became.
What the clerk found even more contemptible was that Xiang Yang was so young and clearly still in mourning, yet he had come to buy nourishing, aphrodisiac medicines. He was worse than a beast—he must spend every night reveling at the Crimson Tower in the county town. What an unfilial wretch.
Xiang Yang had no idea what the clerk was thinking. Otherwise, he would surely have beaten him senseless. Damn it, across two lifetimes, he had spent a combined forty years as a virgin. Where had any amorous revelry come from?
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