Chapter 16: The Mute Burlak
Half an hour later, the water had cooled, and only then did Qin Sang and Ming Yue reluctantly climb out of the herbal bath.
They followed their usual routine of evening meditation and martial arts practice. By now, Qin Sang had developed a habit of returning to his room around nine to eleven at night and continuing his cultivation of the Netherworld Scripture.
After completing one cycle of the cosmic orbit, Qin Sang suddenly stopped his practice and opened his eyes, his face filled with shock.
Over the past few days, he had grown accustomed to making small progress with each session, but today was different. After just one cycle, he had achieved as much progress as he usually would in half a day!
Feeling the significantly stronger energy within him, Qin Sang quickly calmed himself and continued with the next cycle.
The second cycle brought a similarly noticeable improvement, though slightly less than the first. Qin Sang continued to control the flow of his qi, and with each passing cycle, the improvement diminished. By the ninth cycle, the progress had returned to its usual level.
After completing nine cycles, Qin Sang lay down. He was supposed to sleep for an hour to restore his energy, but he was too excited to fall asleep.
The only explanation for this sudden progress had to be the herbal bath from the night before. He hadn't expected that the old Daoist's secret recipe could not only strengthen his foundation and replenish his vitality but also enhance the effects of the Netherworld Scripture.
No wonder his master was once an imperial physician.
Qin Sang felt a surge of gratitude. The Tiger Subduing Long Fist had indeed proven its worth, and he was glad he had convinced Ming Yue to join him. Otherwise, the old Daoist might not have been willing to share such a precious recipe with just him.
Thinking of this, Qin Sang quickly tried to recall the recipe. His memory seemed to have improved as well, allowing him to remember the prescription perfectly. Even if he were to part ways with the old Daoist in the future, he could still gather and prepare the herbs on his own.
With the help of the herbal bath, Qin Sang finally saw a glimmer of hope for breaking through his current bottleneck. His excitement kept him awake until dawn, when he leaped out of bed and hurried to Qingyang Hall to start boiling the herbs.
After washing up, the two disciples met in the main hall. Seeing Qin Sang so eager, they couldn't help but exchange puzzled glances.
Daoist Jixin stroked his long beard and smiled. "So, how was it? How effective was this prescription of mine?"
"You are truly a divine doctor! A miraculous remedy!"
Qin Sang exclaimed, giving the old Daoist multiple thumbs up.
Ming Yue sidled up to Qin Sang and awkwardly shifted his back, whispering, "Senior Brother, how did you feel last night? I felt unbearably hot and itchy inside, and I didn’t sleep well at all. I don’t see how this is helping."
Ming Yue was clearly affected by the herbs’ potency, but since he didn't practice the Netherworld Scripture, he probably couldn't absorb the medicinal energy as efficiently as Qin Sang, causing most of it to turn into heat and be wasted.
Qin Sang made up an excuse on the spot. "Oh, don’t worry. You’re just going through puberty."
Ming Yue continued to pester Qin Sang, asking what puberty was, all the way until their next herbal bath.
As they soaked in the herbal water, Qin Sang recalled how the effects of the herbs had gradually weakened during his practice the previous night. Suddenly, an idea struck him. What if I cultivate the Netherworld Scripture while in the herbal bath?
The cultivation method only required him to sit quietly in meditation. The bathwater was murky, so no one could see his posture beneath it. With that thought in mind, Qin Sang immediately sat cross-legged and began to channel his qi.
However, before he could complete even one cycle, he suddenly felt a familiar prickling pain in his meridians. Recognizing the sensation, he quickly stopped his cultivation.
Ming Yue was still resting with his eyes closed, unaware of Qin Sang’s actions.
Qin Sang glanced down at the bathwater, his gaze narrowing slightly. The water around him had noticeably lightened in color compared to the water near Ming Yue. If the lighting in Qingyang Hall hadn’t been so dim, the difference would have been even more obvious.
Qin Sang hurriedly stirred the water to mix it up, feeling the qi within him. The progress was significant, but the pain in his meridians was too clear; any more, and he might not be able to withstand the strain.
It seemed that absorbing too much of the medicinal energy wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
From then on, Qin Sang forced himself to be patient, absorbing only a little bit of the medicinal energy each time.
By the seventh and final day of their herbal baths, the medicinal energy of the water had weakened considerably. Only then did Qin Sang feel confident enough to fully absorb the remaining energy, making sure not to waste a single drop.
After their bath, Qin Sang and Ming Yue scraped out the leftover dregs of the herbs and discarded them. The once dark and murky water had become noticeably clearer.
"Senior Brother, why hasn’t Master returned yet?"
Ming Yue, holding a wooden ladle, stood at the entrance of the Daoist temple, gazing out with a worried expression.
Today was another auspicious day. A family at the dock was constructing a new house and had chosen today for the beam-raising ceremony[1], inviting the old Daoist to perform a ritual to bless the new home. Now, the sky was about to fully darken, and it was almost time for their evening practice, yet the old Daoist had not returned.
Qin Sang frowned and said, "You stay here and guard the temple. I’ll go down the mountain to meet the Daoist."
The old Daoist had taken the donkey, so Qin Sang grabbed a wooden stick and headed down the mountain.
The path was dense with foliage, and the end of the mountain trail looked like a pitch-black hole. The night wind rustled through the surroundings, creating a cacophony that made it seem like countless ghostly figures were clawing at the air.
Yet, Qin Sang didn’t find it particularly frightening. Although he only knew one basic martial art, after practicing the Netherworld Scripture, his hearing and vision had sharpened, his limbs had become more agile, and his movements swifter. Even if he encountered a wild wolf, he felt confident he could put up a fight.
Ming Yue had been learning martial arts alongside Qin Sang, but he was no match for him, much to his frustration.
However, before Qin Sang had even reached the bottom of the mountain, he saw three dark figures approaching. With his sharp eyesight, Qin Sang recognized the figure at the front as Daoist Jixin.
"Daoist, why are you so late today?"
Qin Sang ran over to help lead the donkey and glanced at the strangers following behind the Daoist.
The person was extremely small in stature, carrying a large bundle on his back.
From a distance, Qin Sang had thought the old Daoist had brought back a girl, but as he got closer, he realized it was an elderly man.
The man was barely taller than a dwarf, hunched over, with a sallow, deeply wrinkled face. He looked to be about fifty or sixty years old but moved with a brisk pace, navigating the steep mountain path with ease. It was clear he was used to walking long distances, the mark of a poor man.
"This is Mr. Wu, a benefactor," the old Daoist gestured to his mouth as he spoke to Qin Sang. "Mr. Wu is mute. He works as a burlak at the first dock. He’s originally from the North but fled here as a refugee and couldn’t find a place to stay. I invited him to live at the temple for a while. The room next to yours is empty, so he can stay there."
He then turned to the mute and said, "This young man is Qin Sang. He’s clever, so if you ever run into trouble, you can ask him for help."
Qin Sang had many secrets and naturally didn’t want anyone living next to him, but the temple wasn’t his. The Daoist had the final say in everything, and Qin Sang had no right to object. So, he greeted the newcomer, "Old Wu, you can just call me Qin Sang… uh!"
Qin Sang lightly tapped his mouth, smiling apologetically. "I tend to speak without thinking. Please don’t take offense."
Old Wu looked uneasy, gesturing with his hands and making some guttural sounds, confirming that he was indeed mute.
Since there wasn’t much to say to a mute, the three of them walked back to the temple in silence. Old Wu joined them for dinner, after which Qin Sang showed him to his room.
Back in Qingyang Hall, Qin Sang asked the old Daoist about Old Wu. The Daoist let out a soft sigh.
1. A ceremony in which the biggest beam is set up. ☜
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