nashuaworldcup Chapter 545
Chapter 545
As the late spring wind swept fine sand past the poplars along the post road, Ye Jiuchen's leather boots crushed the last clod of frosty earth. Dongfang Wan'er was gazing up at the ever-changing clouds in the sky. The yellow paper soaked in incense ash trembled slightly in her sleeve. The fortune slip she had obtained three days earlier at the City God Temple, "Lost in the fog, two cranes carrying pearls," was still wet with ink. Yet, in the twilight, the distant mountains had already transformed into dark blue-black monsters, spewing ominous gray mist.
“Judging from the fog, the wind is probably coming from the Xun direction.” Ye Jiuchen untied the leather water pouch from his waist, the clinking of the copper buckle startling a gray sparrow on a withered branch. He splashed a little water into his palm, and the water droplet was quickly swirled into a strange vortex by the wind. “The ‘Miasma Classic’ says that in the Land of Return to Nothingness, ‘the wind carries ghostly howls, and the fog hides the nine abysses.’ We must find a place to rest before midnight.” As Dongfang Wan’er nodded, she suddenly noticed the mottled vermilion paint on the broken stone tablet by the roadside—in the gap in the lower right corner of the character “Return,” half a bluish fingernail was embedded.
As they reached the valley entrance, dusk fell as dark as ink. Dongfang Wan'er's jade earrings suddenly turned icy cold—a warning from her specially crafted "poison-detecting jade." Countless eerie green lights flickered in the wind among the vines clinging to the cliff faces, like crushed phosphorescent flames. "It's the Netherworld Sparrows," Ye Jiuchen's voice laced with a grinding sound. These black-feathered creatures squeezed out from between the leaves, their beaks dripping with rotting flesh, saliva splattering onto the bluestone and sparking with eerie blue light in the moonlight.
The copper rings on the medicine box left red marks on his palm. What Ye Jiuchen pulled out wasn't ordinary Feather-Avoiding Powder, but a modified version called "Clear Dew Guide" mixed with secretions from the Ice Silkworms atop the Snow Mountain. The moment the powder arced through the air, the leading strange bird suddenly let out a shrill cry like an infant's wail. Its wingspan stretched to over ten feet, and the tips of its feathers sprouted human-face-like markings. Dongfang Wan'er's silver needles had already pierced the nearest tree trunk. The fluorescent powder hanging from the needle tips fell like meteors, instantly turning any strange birds that touched the powder into black liquid, which corroded the ground, creating hissing white smoke.
As the moon passed over the willow branches, they discovered a half-collapsed stone house in a mountain hollow. Water droplets seeping from the cracks in the walls appeared bluish-purple under the torchlight, clearly containing a deadly poison. Dongfang Wan'er used a silver hairpin to lift the moss in the corner, revealing a half-rolled copy of the *Records of Returning to the Ruins* hidden among the grass roots. Though the writing was blurred, the phrases "Three Tribulations and Nine Calamities, Resurrection from the Dead" were still chilling. Suddenly, they heard a rustling sound from the beams. Ye Jiuchen's ox-bone dart grazed the white-haired old man's ear and embedded itself in a pillar. Amidst the flying splinters, the man was found sitting cross-legged on the beam, a gourd dripping dark red liquid from his waist.
"Young friend, your skills are quite impressive." The old man leaped down, his straw sandals treading over the moss without getting a speck of dirt on him. "This old woman has waited in this valley for thirty years, and finally, I've found two living people carrying the scent of medicine." His cloudy eyes suddenly turned to Dongfang Wan'er's medicine pouch. "Is that jade box filled with Miao Jiang's life-extending Gu? Tsk tsk, my master wanted one before he died..." Before he could finish speaking, Ye Jiuchen had already stepped in front of his companion, his fingertips holding three thin needles coated with anesthetic.
The old man, unperturbed, poured three pills the size of red beans from his gourd and tossed them over: "Just in case." The moment the pills landed in her palm, Dongfang Wan'er smelled the mingled scent of borneol and musk—it was the long-lost "Detoxifying Purple Gold Pill." "Three trials?" Ye Jiuchen stared at the faded jade pendant at the old man's waist, the "Imperial Medical Academy" inscription worn smooth by wear. "The first trial is the miasma in this valley?" The old man suddenly coughed violently, black blood seeping from between his fingers: "A wise man... the second trial is 'Crossing the River of Oblivion,' and the third trial..." He suddenly pointed to the thickening white fog outside the stone house, "Look at those shadows in the fog—"
Dongfang Wan'er's pupils suddenly contracted. What appeared in the mist was not merely shadows, but countless distorted faces—palace maids, soldiers, and Taoist priests. Their lips opened and closed, yet no sound could be uttered; they could only scratch at the invisible barrier with their fingernails, the blood dripping from their fingertips congealing into the shape of red plum blossoms in the mist. Ye Jiuchen took out the bronze compass from his robes, but the pointer spun wildly at the "Li" position, drawing a bizarre "Wang" character.
"These are all people trying to obtain the medicine," the old man's voice suddenly became ethereal. "They are trapped in their own obsessions, never able to take that first step... Young friends, what are your obsessions?" Dongfang Wan'er looked at the newly added white hairs at Ye Jiuchen's temples, recalling how he had repeatedly stroked the words "Gui Xu" with his fingertips as he studied the secret letter by the campfire last night. Now, as he stared at the bloodline on the compass, a relieved smile appeared on his face: "My obsession? It's nothing more than wanting to see if there are any incurable diseases or incurable people in this world."
The old man suddenly trembled violently, his coarse cloth clothes tearing apart inch by inch, revealing skin covered in cursed runes beneath. Dongfang Wan'er then realized with horror that he was clearly a body that had long since died, and what supported his movements was only some kind of Gu magic. "Good...good..." The skeletal finger pointed into the fog, "After passing this 'Mind-Bewildering Barrier,' three miles to the west there is a nine-headed cypress tree, and buried under the tree is the 'Complete Book of Poison Detoxification' that was lost by the Imperial Medical Academy back then...Remember, three-quarters past midnight, the crying in the fog..." Before he finished speaking, the corpse had turned to dust, and only the jade pendant rolled to Ye Jiuchen's feet. The three characters "Li Chengen" engraved on the back were the same name as the Imperial Medical Academy judge who had mysteriously disappeared thirty years ago.
When Dongfang Wan'er picked up the jade pendant, she discovered half a yellowed prescription had fallen out of the inner lining, the handwriting perfectly matching a certain dark pattern on the secret letter. Ye Jiuchen placed the compass on the stone table, pricked his fingertip with a silver needle, and drew a blood talisman on the "Kun" position: "Follow me closely, and no matter what you see, don't look back." As the mist surged in, he suddenly grasped her hand, the warmth passing through his palm like a lone lamp in the desert. The distorted faces instantly rushed before her eyes, and she saw that one of the faces was exactly the same as her younger sister who had died young, reaching out a bloodied hand to touch her cheek.
"That's an illusion," Ye Jiuchen's voice pierced through the mist. "Remember the 'Mirror Flower Gu' we cured in Miao territory? What you see before you is all a mental illusion..." He suddenly stopped, for before them lay a familiar courtyard—the very mansion of the general they had treated three years ago. But now the gates were tightly shut, white banners draped over the door knockers, and the three characters "Loyal and Valiant Mansion" on the plaque were painted blood red. Dongfang Wan'er's nails dug deeply into her palms. She remembered that the general had clearly been saved; why...?
"Don't believe it." Ye Jiuchen's voice trembled with unprecedented fear, for he saw his mother standing under the eaves, just as he remembered her before her death, beckoning to him. In her hands was the very bowl of life-saving soup he had never been able to brew. The familiar scent of medicine wafted through the mist, and he suddenly remembered the warning in the *Qing Nang Jing*: "When encountering illusions of loved ones, one must pierce them with blood, otherwise one will be trapped within them forever." The moment the silver needle pierced his tiger's mouth, the illusion burst like a bubble, revealing a grotesque rock behind it, from which a fishy-smelling viscous liquid seeped.
After an unknown amount of time, as the first rays of dawn pierced the mist, the two finally stumbled out of the fog. Dongfang Wan'er, seeing the blood seeping from Ye Jiuchen's sleeve, realized that he had unknowingly made seven deep cuts on his arm, each one revealing bone—he had used the "Seven Wounds Needle Technique" to forcibly maintain his consciousness. In the distance, the branches of the nine-headed cypress tree swayed eerily in the wind, and the freshly turned soil beneath it revealed the corner of a half-rolled book. Further away, nestled among the mountains, an inverted city loomed in the distance, the brick patterns on its walls forming a giant "归" (return) character, gleaming ominously in the morning sun.
Ye Jiuchen picked up a bloodstained pebble and carved a deep mark on the cypress trunk. Dongfang Wan'er took out the Purple Gold Pill from her bosom, only to find that the pill had cracked—meaning that the upcoming "Crossing the River of Oblivion" would be far more dangerous than they had imagined. The wind swirled mist past her shoulders, and she suddenly heard the sound of flowing water in the distance, accompanied by the clear clanging of metal, like countless scalpels falling into a deep pool at the same time.