Heading to the Dark Canal

Feng Ao pondered for a moment, then looked at Feng Xiu.

Feng Xiu immediately understood, taking a banknote from his sleeve and presenting it with both hands. "True Person, you saved an entire city. Please accept this small token of gratitude."

Daoist Yellow Dragon lowered his head to look—a full one hundred taels.

His expression shifted, and he waved his hands repeatedly. "Young Master Feng, this old Daoist prayed for rain willingly, not for wealth. Besides, Young Master Feng has already ordered Master Black to repair the temple."

Before he finished speaking, a small head peeked out from behind him.

Jiaojiao stood on tiptoe, staring at the banknote, her eyes gleaming.

"Grandfather, one hundred taels!" She tugged at Daoist Yellow Dragon's sleeve and muttered quietly, "With this money, we can buy lots of good food and won't have to drink thin porridge every day."

"Shut up." Daoist Yellow Dragon turned back and glared at her.

Jiaojiao pouted, but her eyes remained glued to the banknote, and she even forgot to lick the candied hawthorn in her hand.

"True Person, please accept it. It's a small gesture from the Feng Clan, and also the heartfelt thanks of the entire city."

With that, Feng Xiu pushed the banknote forward again.

Daoist Yellow Dragon hesitated for a moment, then finally sighed and accepted the banknote.

"Thank you, Young Master Feng." He clasped his fists solemnly. "This old Daoist accepts with shame."

Seeing her grandfather take the money, Jiaojiao's little face immediately bloomed into a smile, and she whispered.

"Grandfather, I want to eat osmanthus cake."

Daoist Yellow Dragon shot her a helpless glare, then prepared to leave.

"True Person, wait. I have another request." At this point, Feng Xiu spoke again, his tone earnest.

As he spoke, he shifted his body to let the Daoist see Zhou Gang sitting in the chair.

"This uncle of mine accidentally lost his memory this morning. True Person, your methods are extraordinary. Could you perhaps examine him?"

Since Daoist Yellow Dragon could summon rain, he was presumably a Daoist master of some skill. Letting him take a look might yield good results.

"Young Master Feng is too kind. It's just a small favor."

Daoist Yellow Dragon nodded at the words, stepped forward, and bent down to examine him.

First, he checked Zhou Gang's eyelids, then felt his pulse, and finally pressed his hand against the palm print on Zhou Gang's chest.

After a moment, he straightened up, his expression grave.

"Head of the Feng Clan, Eldest Young Master." Daoist Yellow Dragon spoke slowly. "This man's injury was not caused by ordinary martial arts."

Feng Ao said in a deep voice, "What have you discerned, True Person?"

Daoist Yellow Dragon thought for a while, as if weighing his words.

"This old Daoist observes his complexion. Though his qi and blood are disordered, it is not fatal. The real problem..." He paused. "Is that he has damaged one of his souls."

"Damaged a soul?" The two of them were stunned simultaneously.

Daoist Yellow Dragon nodded. "Correct. A person has three souls and seven spirits. The soul governs memory and consciousness. That palm strike to the chest injured not the flesh, but the soul."

As he spoke, he pointed at Zhou Gang's brow.

"This old Daoist just probed. Chief Escort Zhou's celestial and earthly souls are still present, but his life soul is slightly diminished. That is why he cannot remember the events of the day before yesterday—because the life soul governs memory."

Feng Xiu's scalp tingled. Suppressing his turbulent thoughts, he asked, "True Person, in your opinion, can this soul be recovered?"

Daoist Yellow Dragon said slowly, "It's not a major problem. He only needs a few days of quiet rest to recover."

"However, this palm print is small and delicate, carrying a sinister aura. It does not resemble orthodox martial arts."

Feng Xiu took a deep breath and briefly recounted the matter of Su Wantang.

After listening, Daoist Yellow Dragon was silent for a long time.

"Erasing people's memories, injuring their souls." He muttered to himself, then raised his head to look at Feng Xiu.

"You two, this woman is by no means an ordinary member of the Thousand Sect. If this old Daoist is not mistaken, she may be cultivating some kind of heretical technique."

"Judging by her origins, it should be the methods of the North Ridge Sect in Taizhou."

The words "Taizhou" triggered something churning in Feng Xiu's memory.

That was it. Feng Shouzhuo had once mentioned that Su Wantang loved to sing the Record of Spirit Flowers from Taizhou.

Thinking back now, the so-called refugee story from Jin Province was merely a cover for her true origins.

As he was recollecting, he heard Feng Ao ask in a deep voice, "The North Ridge Sect? True Person, do you have a way to counter it?"

Daoist Yellow Dragon shook his head. "That sect has many heretical techniques. I have only heard of them. This old Daoist's cultivation is shallow; I only know some crude blessing and rain-praying arts. Such heretical techniques are beyond my reach."

"Thank you, True Person, for clarifying our doubts." Feng Xiu clasped his fists solemnly.

Daoist Yellow Dragon waved his hand. He was about to take his leave, but his steps paused, and he turned back to look at Feng Xiu.

"Eldest Young Master, this old Daoist has one more word."

"Please speak, True Person."

Seeing the lingering worry on their faces, Daoist Yellow Dragon continued.

"The Northern Ridge Technique is no righteous path—it relies on many mediums to take effect. This man has a sturdy physique, his blood and qi like a blazing furnace; he only fell victim because he let his guard down for a moment."

These words put the two men somewhat at ease. Feng Ao's expression turned solemn as he bowed with cupped fists.

"Your Reverence's kindness, the Feng Clan will remember. This thumb ring is my personal token. If Your Reverence ever faces difficulty, come to the Feng Clan, and whatever you ask, nothing shall be refused!"

Feng Ao removed the ring from his thumb, his tone heavy with meaning.

"I cannot, I cannot. Clan Head Feng, you speak too gravely."

Daoist Yellow Dragon tried to decline but ultimately accepted it. He let out a sigh, then straightened his expression.

He clasped his hands in farewell to the two men, turned, and left.

Not long after seeing off Daoist Yellow Dragon, Uncle Zheng arrived, with Feng Shouzhuo following behind him.

Feng Shouzhuo wore a clean blue robe, his complexion so ruddy it seemed unnatural, his steps steady and firm.

Feng Ao's gaze sharpened.

Feng Xiu instinctively took half a step back.

But Feng Shouzhuo, oblivious to their reactions, walked over with a smile.

"Father, big brother, you're both here. Ah, big brother, I heard you prayed for this rain?" In the latter half of his words, his tone turned eager with curiosity.

"Shouzhuo." Feng Ao spoke then. "Are you well now?"

Feng Shouzhuo nodded and replied with a smile, "I'm fine. I just got back from the Wenjin Society, slept it off, and woke up feeling full of energy."

His eyes were clear, his smile sincere, with no mention at all of the woman who had once robbed him of appetite and sleep.

Feng Xiu stared at him, scrutinizing him from head to toe.

Slept it off and got better?

Feng Shouzhuo showed none of his usual fear of Feng Ao, and clearly had no memory of someone like Su Wantang; his recollection stopped after the Wenjin Society.

A damaged soul-spirit causes memory loss, yet here he was, looking robust.

Not a trace of weakness or pallor remained—his physique was no worse than Feng Xiu's, who had trained in martial arts!

"Big brother?" Feng Shouzhuo called out, seeing him lost in thought.

Feng Xiu snapped back and forced a smile. "Nothing. As long as you're fine."

He paused, then asked, "Shouzhuo, do you still remember that woman named Su Wantang from before?"

Feng Shouzhuo frowned, thought for a long moment, then shook his head blankly. "Su Wantang? Who's that?"

Just as I thought!

"Never mind. An irrelevant person." He patted Feng Shouzhuo's shoulder. "Go back and rest. Read more books. In a few days, I'll test you myself."

At the mention of a test, Feng Shouzhuo shrank his neck and gave a strained laugh. "How about... we just skip it?"

"Mm?" Feng Xiu glared.

"Alright, alright, I'm going."

Feng Shouzhuo flinched and scurried off in a flash.

He had been raised under Feng Xiu's heavy hand; when it came to pressure, Feng Xiu was worse than Feng Ao.

After he left, the three fell into another silence.

Shouzhuo's complete recovery was more unsettling than Zhou Gang's memory loss.

"She has feelings for Shouzhuo." Feng Ao's gaze hardened. "Or rather, she couldn't bring herself to be ruthless with him. So she only erased his memory and restored him."

"At least she's not a pure villain. Ah~" Uncle Zheng replied, then sighed lightly as he was about to continue.

Feng Xiu forcibly suppressed his stray thoughts. Right now, he only wanted to find the scale evidence that would prove his theory.

As long as he had that, everything would be correct!

"Talking about this now is useless. The priority is to check the underground channel."

He turned to Feng Ao. "I'll leave immediately."

Feng Ao nodded. "Be careful. No, I'll go instead." He changed his mind mid-sentence.

Though Su Wantang had fled, no one knew if she had laid other traps.

Feng Xiu had only just begun training in martial arts; his strength was meager. It would be safer for Feng Ao to go.

"No. This matter started with me. Father, Uncle Zheng, keep an eye on Shouzhuo." Feng Xiu shook his head firmly, his words heavy.

Feng Xiu dared not gamble on whether Su Wantang might change her mind. With Zhou Gang unconscious, the household needed someone to hold the fort!

Feng Xiu answered decisively. Though worried, Feng Ao still warned him, "Fine. Take more men with you. Don't be reckless if trouble comes."

"That won't do. Too many people will only cause problems." Feng Xiu refused again.

He couldn't trust anyone else with this, and deeper concerns weighed on his mind.

Daoist Yellow Dragon had just prayed for rain. If he led a crowd to the underground channel now, what would the River Law Bureau think?

Feng Xiu had prepared for the worst, but he couldn't alert the enemy prematurely.

Feng Ao understood Feng Xiu's misgivings and did not stop him further.