The next day, the wind and snow had yet to subside, and the daylight looked grayer and paler than usual.
Fang Yuan rose later than usual, a rare occurrence.
Ever since returning from the eerie empty house at San Zhuang's last night, an intermittent chill had clung to him like a disease gnawing at the bone,
wrapping around him and refusing to disperse.
With his physique and vigorous blood far surpassing that of ordinary men, he should have been immune to heat and cold. This sensation was highly abnormal, setting alarm bells ringing in his heart.
The problem had to lie with San Zhuang!
Suppressing his unease, he instructed Liu Wanwan, who was busy at the stove:
"Put more chilies and pepper in this morning's stew. Drive off the cold. I need plenty of meat now."
"Eat your fill. Don't skimp. Your health comes first."
Seeing that his face seemed somewhat pale, Liu Wanwan gave him a worried glance and obediently added a generous amount of spicy seasoning.
After wolfing down a steaming, fiery bowl of meat stew and rice, then drinking a large bowl of scalding broth,
Fang Yuan finally felt somewhat warmer inside. Yet that bone-deep chill still stubbornly lingered.
"Could it be... I've provoked some Unclean Thing?"
Fang Yuan frowned deeply. He had read quite a few miscellaneous books and unofficial histories, many of which recorded mountain spirits, ghosts, monsters, and sinister evils at work.
Thinking of San Zhuang's corpse vanishing so strangely, along with his own abnormal sensations, a troubling thought became ever clearer.
He immediately walked to the center of the small courtyard, drew a deep breath, and began practicing with his blade at full force.
The Chopping knife sliced through the air with a sharp howl. As his blood and vitality circulated, he deliberately