Netherworld Scripture

"The well is dry. We have to come up here to fetch water for drinking, washing, and watering the garden. The steps are high and slippery, making it very difficult to walk."

Mingyue pouted, his tone full of dissatisfaction, his small eyes peeking at Qin Sang.

Qin Sang perceived Mingyue's little thoughts and smiled faintly. "From now on, Junior Brother, you'll be in charge of washing and cooking. Leave this rough work to your Senior Brother."

"Really!"

Mingyue jumped up, clapping his hands in delight. "But that's only after your leg injury heals, Senior Brother."

Children are indeed easily bought. Mingyue became much more friendly towards Qin Sang.

Qin Sang looked around and pointed to the last row of houses. "Can I choose one of these to live in?"

He had secrets that couldn't be revealed to others, and he wanted to stay far away from Daoist Jixin to avoid being discovered.

"Of course," Mingyue said. "Master was just asking me to tidy up these rooms. People used to come up the mountain to borrow houses to live in, but they all moved away later. Now, with more and more refugees coming from the north, Master says the weather is getting colder, so we should open up these houses to take in people who have nowhere to stay and help them get through the cold winter. Some temples in the mountains have already started doing this. Master says we shouldn't be overly concerned with merit, but we should do good deeds."

Qin Sang chose the house in the northeast corner. It was covered in dust and entangled with cobwebs.

Actually, it was three rooms connected together, separated by bamboo walls. The two inner rooms had old bamboo beds. Qin Sang chose the one at the very edge. The setting sun shone directly in, and through the window, he could vaguely see a stretch of river water between the mountains. The scenery was quite beautiful.

The meal consisted of green vegetables, preserved vegetables, and steamed buns. After eating, he drank the herbal medicine Mingyue had brewed for him. Then, the two of them went upstairs together to clean the room. They replaced the bamboo bed with new bamboo and laid out bedding. By the time they were done, it was already late at night.

There were no clocks, so Qin Sang didn't know what time it was. Seeing Mingyue yawning continuously, he urged him to go back and rest.

Mingyue, having finally found someone to talk to, was reluctant to leave. "Senior Brother, I'll go boil a pot of water for you to wash up."

Qin Sang practiced the Tiger Subduing Long Fist for a while. After washing up, he listened carefully for a moment. Daoist Jixin and Mingyue had already fallen asleep. Only then did he cautiously close the doors and windows. Taking advantage of a sliver of moonlight, he took out the items he was carrying to examine them.

He sat cross-legged on the bed. The money pouch, the seven-colored brocade pouch, the sheepskin scroll, the wooden sword, the Yanluo Banner, and the book were laid out in a row.

He could think of countless uses for the brocade pouch and the sheepskin, but no matter how he tried, he couldn't open the brocade pouch. Everything else was secondary.

He put them aside for now.

Picking up the ebony sword with one hand, Qin Sang frowned. Did he need to drip blood on it?

This thought had been in Qin Sang's mind for a long time. With a sudden burst of determination, he used a bamboo sliver to cut his finger, and a drop of blood fell onto the ebony sword.

Ignoring the pain in his finger, Qin Sang looked at the ebony sword with anticipation. The blood dripped onto it and then slid down the gleaming sword body.

Qin Sang watched helplessly as the drop of blood fell to the ground and spread out.

Unwilling to give up, Qin Sang picked up the Yanluo Banner and tried the same method. Finally, he tested the brocade pouch and the sheepskin scroll, but none of them reacted.

Qin Sang cursed inwardly and picked up the book.

"Netherworld Scripture," the first three large characters on the book read. It was only a thin book of a dozen pages, and every sentence was obscure and difficult to understand. There were also many characters he didn't recognize. Qin Sang flipped through to the end and found that the last two pages contained a chapter titled "Yanluo Banner," the content of which was also incomprehensible.

At the very least, this book was related to the Yanluo Banner.

The black-clothed man used the Yanluo Banner to perish with the young man. It must be a divine artifact!

When he realized that this book was likely a cultivation scripture, Qin Sang's heart immediately became fervent. However, he also realized that even if it were a cultivation method, he would have to understand it first. Otherwise, if he accidentally went mad, he wouldn't even know how he died.

The prerequisite for understanding was literacy. It seemed he really needed to settle down and study the scriptures at the Green Goat Temple for a while.

This mountain Taoist temple was extremely tranquil, and he had food and drink. It wouldn't be bad to stay here. He also needed to sort out his chaotic thoughts.

Although he had inherited Qin Sanwa's memories, Qin Sang didn't have such deep, unforgettable feelings for Qin Sanwa's family. Moreover, his father and mother Qin must now believe that he had died at the hands of the mountain bandits.

It was better not to see them. He would compensate them when he had the chance in the future.

He didn't want to return to Wangjia Village. Even if he didn't seek immortality, he didn't want to be confined to that kind of place and live a mediocre life.

If he hadn't personally witnessed someone flying with a sword, Qin Sang would have been like his previous life, seeking nothing more than wealth, women, power, fame, and fortune. On the boat, he would have definitely racked his brains to scheme and wouldn't have disembarked so easily.

Bai Jianglan said that immortals were hard to find, but this "Netherworld Scripture" gave Qin Sang hope. Perhaps he truly had a chance...

His thoughts were in a mess, and he didn't know what time it was when he fell asleep. He slept without dreaming. The next day, Qin Sang was woken up by bird calls. The sky was already bright.

Qin Sang got up quickly, tidied himself up, and went downstairs with his crutch. As soon as he reached the back door of the Green Goat Hall, he heard chanting and the sound of a wooden fish from inside.

He walked in cautiously and saw Daoist Jixin and Mingyue performing their morning prayers in front of the incense table. Three people seeking medical treatment had already arrived in the main hall, along with a lay Buddhist, who was chanting scriptures with Daoist Jixin.

Qin Sang dared not disturb them. He saw Mingyue glance at him sideways and wink at him, signaling him to go to the front.

Qin Sang understood. He nodded at the patients and went to the woodshed in the courtyard. He saw a bowl of mixed porridge left for him on the stove, still warm.

He washed his face and wolfed down the porridge. The busy day began.

With Qin Sang's help, the pressure on Daoist Jixin and his disciple decreased significantly.

Qin Sang didn't understand medicine. He sat behind the desk, helping to record and grind herbs.

The old Taoist diagnosed, prescribed, drew talismans, interpreted omens, cast fortunes, and chanted scriptures for blessings. He was truly a master of all trades.

Mingyue received patients and visitors, boiled water, dispensed medicine, and cooked. He was also very busy.

Unknowingly, the sky began to darken. After seeing off the last patient, Mingyue bolted the door of the Taoist temple. The three of them, master and disciples, divided the tasks of cleaning the messy main hall.

"Today is the seventh day," the old Taoist said after looking at the almanac for a while and flipping through a few pages of the account books. "I will go down the mountain tomorrow. I have two small rituals to perform. You two stay and look after the Taoist temple."

Saying this, Daoist Jixin stood up and looked through the medicine cabinet. "On the ninth and tenth, I will go to Huanghuang Mountain to collect herbs. If any patients come up the mountain, Mingyue can handle minor illnesses. If he's unsure, tell them to come back on the eleventh. Go and cook. After dinner, we'll have the evening prayer."

"Yes, Master."

Qin Sang followed Mingyue out and saw disappointment on Mingyue's face. After asking, he learned that Daoist Jixin went up the mountain to gather herbs every month. The Huanghuang Mountain they were heading to this time was deep within the mountain range, with steep terrain and many rare medicinal herbs.

Besides healing people, Daoist Jixin was also invited down the mountain by families to perform rituals on auspicious days.

This business could earn money, but they couldn't compete with the monks and the Great Daoist temples ahead. Usually, when performing rituals, Daoist Jixin would bring Mingyue down the mountain to broaden his horizons.

Qin Sang knew that Daoist Jixin still didn't fully trust him.

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