Yi Yang unfolded it by lamplight.
Three crooked characters at the top read "Blood-Strengthening Decoction."
Below were the medicinal ingredients: three mace of blackbone vine, half a mace of red ginseng rootlets, a little tiger bone powder...
Several lines describing its effects followed.
Replenished deficiencies, strengthened qi and blood, warmed skin and flesh, and aided entry into external martial arts.
Yi Yang tapped the paper with his finger.
"A medicinal bath recipe?"
In his sixty years, he had seen plenty of country remedies-stove soot for toothaches, a young boy's urine to soothe a fright-enough to make his brain ache.
But this recipe was different.
The ingredients were assorted, but the approach was sound.
The Blood-Strengthening Decoction's effects were probably similar to those of Blood Qi Powder, except it was intended for a medicinal bath rather than oral consumption.
"That scar-faced bastard even had something like this on him."
Yi Yang clicked his tongue. You really couldn't judge a man by his looks; even highway robbers had a little technical expertise.
Unfortunately, technical expertise couldn't save their lives.
Yi Yang put the recipe away, slipping it into a gap between the bed boards.
He had none of the ingredients, so it was of no use for now.
But he could keep the recipe and test its effects later. After all, buying ingredients and preparing it himself would save quite a bit compared with purchasing the prepared medicine.
He turned and went to the kitchen, keeping his movements quiet.
Jiang Yuexin was still asleep. Her soft breathing drifted from the room, so peaceful that it softened his heart.
He stuffed dry twigs into the stove. Flames licked the bottom of the pot as the wood crackled.
Yi Yang filled more than half the pot with water.
Steam slowly rose, darkening the earthen kitchen walls, while white mist escaped around the lid.
Once the water boiled, he carried it to the backyard in a wooden pail, trip after trip.
The battered wooden bathing tub stood in a corner by the wall. Its hoops were old, but it still served well enough for ordinary baths.
As he poured in the scalding water, the tub creaked. Steam rushed into his face, making the tip of his nose itch with its heat.
Yi Yang took a packet of Blood Qi Powder from inside his clothes.
The paper packet bore a crude red stamp. Even through the paper, its scent seeped out, pungent with a medicinal bitterness.
He tore it open and poured the powder into the water.
Hiss.
Fine bubbles rose across the surface. The clear water turned pale red, and a medicinal fragrance spread at once-not sharp, but rich, filling his lungs like a broth of old ginseng simmered all night.
Yi Yang's eyelids twitched as he looked at the water in the tub and thought:
Three taels of silver a packet. Apparently, it isn't all empty hype.
He removed his short jacket, revealing an upper body that was thin and dry but considerably firmer than before.
His age spots remained, and his ribs were still clearly outlined, but the tautness beneath his skin was no longer something an ordinary old man in Three Trees Village should possess.
He stepped into the wooden tub.
The hot water covered his calves, then his waist and abdomen, finally rising to his chest.
Hot.
Very hot.
With his old body, soaking for half the time it took to drink a cup of tea would have left him dizzy.
But after skin tempering, his skin had grown tough. As his pores opened and closed, the medicine's potency seeped inward through his flesh.
Yi Yang closed his eyes and began practicing the mental method of the "Yi Wood Life-Nurturing Art."
The warmth in his lower abdomen stirred at the medicinal fragrance and flowed through his limbs.
His flesh and blood, parched for years, were like hungry beasts catching the scent of meat, fighting to swallow the essence in the water.
Soreness, tingling, warmth.
The three sensations mingled, rolling from his skin all the way to his bones.
Yi Yang released a long breath from deep in his throat.
"That feels good."
Previously, practicing without nourishment had left his body like an emptied old grain sack-a single shake revealed holes everywhere.
Now it was different.
As the medicine replenished him, his deficiencies were filled little by little.
It felt even better than drinking a bowl of meat broth on a winter night.
After getting up, Jiang Yuexin asked from outside the door, "Grandpa, you're taking a bath? I'll go cook, then."
Yi Yang said casually, "Make extra for lunch. Go invite your Aunt Yang over."
"Invite Aunt Yang?"
"Yes. Ask her to come."
Yi Yang tapped the edge of the wooden tub.
"She ran herself ragged helping with your affairs the other day. Poor as we are, we can't be without a conscience."
"Oh."
Jiang Yuexin answered, then hurried away.
Hearing her fleeing footsteps, Yi Yang let a smile linger on his face for a moment.
He lowered his head to examine the medicinal water.
The pale red remained, having faded by only a third.
Yi Yang stirred it with his hand. The medicinal fragrance was still rich.
"Interesting."
One packet of Blood Qi Powder dissolved in water was enough for three baths.
In other words, three taels of silver paid for three medicinal baths.
The qi and blood replenished by one bath would easily sustain another round of the Yi Wood Longevity Stance.
Originally, he practiced three times a day.
Now he could manage four.
The second level of the Yi Wood Life-Nurturing Art required three thousand progress points.
Each round earned sixty points.
Four rounds a day meant two hundred and forty points.
In thirteen days, he could reach the qi-blood second level, the muscle training realm.
That rate of progress was truly frightening.
Yi Yang rested his palm on the tub's edge and tapped twice with his fingers.
"Poor men study letters; rich men practice martial arts. There's truth in that after all."
Without money, practicing was gnawing away at his own life.
With medicine, practicing finally became cultivation.
Lunch was unusually lavish.
After finishing his stance practice, Yi Yang bought a pheasant from a hunter. Jiang Yuexin stewed half a pot of it, oil glistening on the broth. Its fragrance drifted from the kitchen to the courtyard gate, drawing even the yellow dog from the village entrance to circle nearby.
When Yang Hui entered, her nose twitched first.
"Well now, is it New Year's today?"
She lifted the straw curtain, and her eyes lit up at the sight of the pheasant soup on the table.
"Uncle Yi, have you struck it rich? Or did little Yuexin dig out your secret savings?"
Holding a bowl, Jiang Yuexin still wore the blush that had lingered since morning. She quickly said, "Aunt Yang, don't talk nonsense."
Yang Hui looked at her suspiciously.
"Why's your face so red? Is the kitchen that hot?"
Jiang Yuexin nearly set the bowl down crookedly.
"Hot. Yes, it's hot!"
Yi Yang placed a piece of chicken in Yang Hui's bowl.
"Can't even food stop your mouth?"
Yang Hui immediately broke into a grin.
"It can. Chicken can stop it. Uncle Yi, if you'd been this generous sooner, I'd have kept my mouth shut every day."
"Then forget it."
Yi Yang took a sip of soup.
"If you shut your mouth, Three Trees Village would lose half its liveliness."
Yang Hui slapped the table. "Hey, you old man! You're making fun of me!"
Beside them, Jiang Yuexin laughed until her shoulders shook.
The three sat around the old wooden table, bowls and chopsticks clinking as steam rose from the chicken soup.
The world outside was in turmoil, and so was the village, but this little courtyard had finally gained a rare touch of everyday warmth.
At the other end of the village.
The smell of liquor was overpowering in the home of village chief Yang Shuyu.
Yang Er sat in the seat of honor, a wine cup pinched in his fat hand. Beside him, Zhang Xiaoshan carried a food box and laid out braised goose, braised pork, peanuts, and a jug of fine wine.
Yang Shuyu was over fifty, with a neatly trimmed beard and a dignified posture, but his eyes kept straying toward the goose.
A village chief was still human, and humans had cravings. Besides, in times like these, even a village chief couldn't feast on meat and fish every day.
Noticing the village chief's gaze, Yang Er sneered inwardly, but outwardly he remained respectful as he filled the older man's cup and said:
"Uncle Shuyu, we're both Yangs, so I won't beat around the bush."
Yang Shuyu stroked his beard.
"You brought all this? You must be up to no good."
Yang Er chuckled. "How could it be anything bad? I want to find our villagers a way to survive."
"Go on."
"Some families have poor fields and lazy people. They can farm all year and still fail to pay their taxes. Rather than wait for the authorities to come demanding payment, why not have them voluntarily transfer their fields for some silver? Everyone would have an easier time."
Yang Shuyu's cup stopped halfway to his lips. He immediately understood what Yang Er intended. "Under Great Yu Law, forcibly seizing farmland is a capital offense."
Hearing the fear in the village chief's words, Yang Er waved dismissively and said:
"Uncle, that's an amateur's way of looking at it. It isn't forcible seizure. They willingly put down their thumbprints, sign the deeds, and receive their money. Who could call that coercion?"
Faced with the brazen shamelessness in Yang Er's tone, Yang Shuyu's face tightened.
"The villagers will make trouble."
"Trouble over what?"
Yang Er picked up a piece of goose and stuffed it into his mouth.
"Most people who make trouble simply don't know how to behave. My brother can put in a word in the county town, and a couple of constables can come ask questions. Then they'll know how to behave."
Yang Shuyu said nothing.
Yang Er poured more wine.
"Uncle, hasn't your eldest always wanted to study martial arts in the city? How could those little martial schools in Cloud Pattern Town offer connections as good as the county town's? My brother knows people. He can't guarantee the boy will soar straight to the heavens, but getting him into a city martial school as a nominal apprentice shouldn't be difficult."
Yang Shuyu's hand stopped stroking his beard. Yang Er's proposal had caught his interest.
If his son could study martial arts in the city, perhaps he could become a martial artist like Yang Da and hold office in the county town. Then their ancestors would share in the glory!
After thinking for a long, long time, Yang Shuyu raised his cup.
"Don't make it too ugly."
Seeing the village chief agree, Yang Er laughed until his fat shook. "Don't worry, Uncle. I know where to draw the line."
Yang Shuyu drank, then lowered his voice.
"There's something else. Greenwood Mountain hasn't been peaceful lately."
"What happened?"
"A giant snake's been causing trouble."
Yang Shuyu set down his cup and said worriedly, "It ate a hunter's dog from the neighboring village. All that remained was a broken rope and a trail where it had crawled. Even the grass was flattened. Someone went looking and still hasn't returned. He's probably gone too."
Yang Er's chopsticks paused, and he asked with some alarm and doubt, "A giant snake?"
"Not an ordinary snake. A hunter from the neighboring village said the trail showed a body thicker than the cut end of a small tree. It could drag off a pig. Ask your brother to come take a look. He's a martial artist, stronger than any of us."
Hearing this, the smile on Yang Er's fat face faded somewhat.
Three Trees Village lived off the mountain. If a giant snake really came down, no household would sleep soundly.
But have Yang Da return?
His brother was busy skimming profits in the county town. Why would he make a trip for a few worthless village lives?
Yang Er replied perfunctorily, "I'll write and ask. My brother has a lot to do. It'd be perfectly normal if he couldn't get away."
Yang Shuyu frowned, sensing his dismissiveness, and said with displeasure, "Don't just pay lip service. If the snake comes down the mountain, none of us will have an easy time."
"All right, all right, Uncle. Would I lie to you?"
Yang Er rose to take his leave, and Zhang Xiaoshan followed with the empty food box.
Just outside the door, a local thug approached.
"Second Master, Sun Mazi still hasn't come back."
The flesh on Yang Er's face quivered.
"Useless bastard! I told him to watch an old man, and he lost both the old man and himself?"
The thug hunched his neck.
"Everyone in the village says he went off somewhere to fool around."
Yang Er cursed a few times, then suddenly stopped as something occurred to him.
What the village chief had just said connected with the matter of Yi Yang's purple wood, and several thoughts collided in his head. The anger on his fat face slowly subsided.
Zhang Xiaoshan leaned closer.
"Second Master, what's wrong?"
Yang Er looked toward Greenwood Mountain in the distance and forced a low chuckle from his throat.
"Nothing."
"It's just that having snakes in these mountains isn't entirely a bad thing."
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