Old Wound

Nothing happened that night.

Though Su Che had confirmed that the ghostly thing would not return tonight, neither the bookboy nor the herb gatherers could sleep any longer.

They looked at one another. Though they had endless things to say, the night wind wailed like wronged ghosts crying in the dark. Windows trembled and tiles clattered, and every sound seemed like some lurking specter at work.

The group could only keep watch beside the fire and endure the long night.

Su Che, however, had set his mind at ease.

It was now clear that the thing haunting Withered Forest Monastery was a Wood Wraith, and with the Sword Case in hand, he happened to have the means to restrain it.

He might as well sleep without worry.

Thus, this was naturally the soundest sleep he had had since crossing over.

After the rooster crowed three times, the whole world turned white.

Watching over the burnt charcoal ashes, the group finally found the courage to speak and began discussing what had happened the previous night.

There was no need to mention how terrified each had been; they instead talked over what they had seen last night.

"Wasn't it terrifying? I couldn't move a single inch. I'm not spinning tales, brother—we country folk are strong men. We can walk ten li of mountain roads without stopping, yet last night I did not have even a scrap of strength."

"Seventh Brother is right. That thing looked like it had been born from a millstone, just a ball of light..."

"Think about it—didn't that thing last night look, from afar, like a woman with long hair...?"

"I thought it looked like a skull..."

"It was a calf... a little calf..."

A ten-thousand-year wood spirit transformed into an azure ox. Since it had not yet reached ten thousand years, turning into a calf was only natural.

"I thought it looked more like a nun. Isn't this a monk's temple?"

A nun appearing in a monk's temple was perfectly reasonable.

"What could any of you see, lying flat on the ground?" The little bookboy looked at them with considerable disdain, then turned a look of great respect upon the dark-faced man beside him.

"Brother Zhou, you were with my young master last night. Did you see how my young master slew that monster?"

The dark-faced man glanced at the newly appointed county commandant lying on the straw and felt that this household was truly strange.

This county commandant was clearly the son of a great family, yet he lay on straw without a care. The other was clearly a bookboy, yet his mouth never stopped chattering.

Shouldn't servants of great households be the best at reading the room and trimming their sails to the wind?

Why was this one so foolish?

The dark-faced man looked at the bookboy's peach-blossom eyes and privately guessed at the relationship between the two.

"After you all fell asleep, I heard wave after wave of rustling by my ears. That dying fire immediately turned ghostly green, while the window ledges and roof tiles kept rattling..."

As the dark-faced man recounted what he had seen the previous night, it became clear why he could lead this group of herb gatherers. Besides being fair-minded and willing to bear losses, he was also a fine speaker.

That night's events became vivid and lifelike in his telling.

"...Then I saw Lord County Commandant lightly pat the case with one hand and say the word 'Please'..."

Yet the dark-faced man could not explain what means Su Che had used to sever that ball of azure light outside, and so he trailed off.

"And then?"

While in the capital, the little bookboy had often heard tales of strange happenings among cultivators. Some master from some household had practiced Joyful Zen until he forgot food and sleep, carrying on for ten days straight. Just as success was within reach, he lost control of himself, his cultivation came to ruin, and in rage he returned to secular life to become a butcher of pigs and dogs.

Some swordsman from who knew where had broken into the imperial palace and stolen the Empress's little bodice, while also swiping the waistbands of several eunuchs. Stealing the bodice had gone smoothly enough, but while stealing the eunuchs' waistbands, he had been spotted by the night-patrol cavalry. A fierce slaughter followed, and in the end the swordsman threw himself into the Yangtze River and escaped.

A certain Daoist priest, seeking to refine a batch of external elixir, encountered a heart demon. In his dream, he became a famous courtesan, was redeemed by a crippled wealthy merchant, and bore nine children. In the end, bandits crossed his path and slaughtered his entire family. He himself was then violated for three years before suddenly awakening, only to find that he had ruined a batch of spiritual pills.

Who would have thought that Third Young Master Su, the invincible nighttime tyrant of the Music Bureau and the wealthy patron of the ladies of pleasure quarters, possessed such methods as well?

"It sounded like the life-bound cultivation of swordsmen—raising a treasured sword inside a case..."

The little bookboy formed a sword gesture with his right hand and struck a pose before the herb gatherers, trying to recall the incantation he had heard storytellers mention at the marketplace, but no matter how hard he thought, he could not remember it.

Those storytellers, too—they only ever told the dirty parts, making him listen only for the bits with meat on them.

"After that, I cannot say. You might as well ask my lord."

Of course, none of this had anything to do with Su Che. He was already awake, merely too lazy to move.

That group of young heroes he had encountered in the capital had struck heavily. His sinews, bones, and meridians had all suffered grave damage.

At the time, his household had summoned imperial physicians from the palace to examine him. After looking him over, those quacks had only said that the matter was no longer within their control.

Half of Third Young Master Su's life was in the hands of the God of Longevity, while the other half lay beneath King Yama's feet. The two sides were wrestling against each other, leaving these physicians no room to show their skill.

In the end, it was still an elder of the Su family who cast aside face and settled the matter properly.

First, he had the steward take three hundred taels of gold and rush overnight up Rooster-Cry Mountain to Qixia Temple. There, after meeting the supervising master, he lit a golden longevity lamp before the Buddha of that master's lineage, borrowing the Buddhist art of karmic causality to protect Su Che's fate.

Then he had the Su family's Second Young Master go to the Celestial Master Sect patronized by the family and obtain a spirit talisman personally inscribed by the current Heir of the Han Celestial Master. It was dissolved into talisman water for Su Che to drink, protecting his soul.

Finally, he obtained from the imperial alchemy chamber a Ninefold Violet Firmament Restoration Elixir reserved for imperial use. After Su Che swallowed it, it warmed and nourished his five viscera, strengthened his foundation, and replenished his origin.

Ginseng soup, medicinal formulas, talisman water—everything was poured into him as though it cost nothing. The incense ash from Jiankang City God Temple alone amounted to two jin swallowed by Su Che.

Before and after, they had used wealthy methods to nourish him for another two months.

Only then had they helped the God of Longevity land a vicious blow on King Yama and pulled Third Young Master Su back from death.

Su Che could say responsibly that, aside from his hair, there was not a single part of him that did not hurt.

Yet he felt quite good, and he was improving by the day.

Su Che slowly climbed up from the ground and casually patted the dust from his clothes.

"This commoner greets Lord County Commandant."

Seeing Su Che awake, the dark-faced man immediately led the herb gatherers in bowing down.

The county magistrate was a living Grand Tutor; as the saying went, a prefect could wipe out a household, while a county magistrate could ruin a family. The county commandant was the steel blade and great axe in the county magistrate's hand. How could common folk who measured grain by the dou and sheng dare not bow?

"You are all too courteous."

Su Che made a token lifting gesture with both hands, signaling for them to rise.

"The court has failed to cleanse the jade vault of heaven and has already wronged the people. I am ashamed beyond measure—how could I possibly accept a bow from all of you?"

The dark-faced man looked at the mild-faced Third Young Master Su, gritted his teeth, and asked.

"This lowly one dares ask: last night, I heard Lord County Commandant say that you intended to lead men in destroying this place. When does my lord plan to act? This commoner has several strong friends who are willing to serve my lord like dogs and horses."

Su Che looked beyond the hall. The red sun had already risen above the sea of clouds, a mass of flowing gold climbing toward the center of the southern sky. The surrounding grass and trees trembled gently with the mountain wind.

As though listening.

"Brother Zhou must have heard wrong. This official has no such intention." Su Che's eyes swept over the Sword Case lying on the ground.

"Ah? Then this commoner truly remembered wrongly." The dark-faced man's expression changed, and it was impossible to tell whether he was disappointed or relieved.

Turning, he smiled. "My lord, hot porridge has just been cooked. If you do not find it too humble and coarse, I will serve you a bowl."

"No need. This official feeds on qi."

Su Che stretched his arms and declined the dark-faced man's kindness.

For one thing, he was still wary of these people's identities.

For another, given the state of his injuries, he truly could not eat much. His injuries had penetrated deep into his lungs and viscera; the slightest carelessness would make him cough up blood.

Then Third Young Master Su, county commandant of Shanyin County, would go from a youthful swordsman to a sickly consumptive in an instant.

How would he ever save face then?

After putting on a slight show, Su Che straightened his clothes and slowly walked into the small courtyard.

The great sun rose in the east, while the night's chill had yet to fade. The air still held a trace of coldness, and pearly white dew clung to the branches and leaves of the grass and trees.

The vegetation of this Withered Forest Monastery was far too luxuriant.

Was it because the Wood Wraith dwelled here that the vitality of grass and trees flourished? Or was it because the vitality of grass and trees flourished that it had nurtured a Wood Wraith?

Which was cause and which was effect made Su Che ponder for a moment.

Su Che swept his gaze across the ground.

Sure enough, he found what he had been expecting.

A strange object lay quietly amid the weeds. Its texture resembled gold and jade, while its entire body was the color of dark bronze.

Was this the thing the Sword Case had cut down last night?

Su Che suddenly felt that something was wrong.

This thing was obviously something aligned with metal.