Chapter Fifty-Five: Elixirs

“Intent flows like water, the body drifts like clouds, coming and going as it pleases, unsullied by the tiniest speck of dust!”

Singing this rustic, ancient melody aloud, Abao strode away from Cold Creek Valley with the wind at his back, heading south in a carefree manner.

The territory of the Fire Crow Tribe lay at the northernmost edge of the southern wilds. Far to the south, in a place unimaginable to Ji Hao, countless wondrous and powerful beings dwelled, myriad thriving tribes flourished, and the ruler of the southern wilds had established magical realms.

“Little brother, if all goes well, I shall return here in three years. We were destined to meet, and I believe my master would gladly accept you as his disciple. You would be my junior apprentice!”

A promise for three years!

If Abao successfully concluded his arduous journey, he would return to the Fire Crow Tribe and take Ji Hao from the southern wilds, to become a disciple under the Taoist Yu Yu.

Ji Hao stood atop the mountain peak, watching Abao’s figure grow distant. In his left hand he carried a huge wine gourd, in his right a plump roasted leg of meat. Both the gourd and the meat swung lightly with his steps, exuding a sense of unrestrained, ethereal elegance.

He wore a suit of black armor, thin as a cicada’s wing, fitted closely to his body. Abao had stayed in Cold Creek Valley for two extra days, refining the shell of the Yin Wind Scorpion he had slain into this strange protective gear.

The shell was extraordinarily tough, yet Abao’s mysterious techniques made it supple as water. Originally weighing a million catties, it was transformed through many magical talismans, becoming light as air, causing no hindrance when worn.

Abao’s skills in crafting artifacts left Ji Hao utterly astonished. Compared to his craftsmanship, even the most skilled shamans of the Fire Crow Tribe would be shamed to death on a block of tofu—fortunately, Ji Hao had not seen any trace of tofu in the southern wilds yet, or he would surely have gifted each old shaman a piece.

Only when Abao’s silhouette vanished from sight did Ji Hao take a long breath. He leapt dozens of feet into the air, bounding over towering cliffs, and landed lightly into Cold Creek Valley.

Some people, some moments, can carve themselves deeply into one’s heart in a very short time. Abao was such a person—his broadness, sincerity, generous spirit, and graceful demeanor. In just three days, Ji Hao already regarded him as a trustworthy friend and dependable elder brother.

“Father, father! Where’s mother?”

Cold Creek Valley bustled with busy mining slaves. Ji Hao found Jixia, who was gesturing and commanding work at the entrance of a mine, and dragged him toward their wooden house.

Jixia quickly gave instructions to Jiying and others, then caught up with Ji Hao, chuckling, “Hao, your friend has left? Tsk, that Abao is remarkable. Such a pity, such a pity—why does he not fancy the girls of our Fire Crow Tribe?”

Ji Hao laughed and dodged the topic, paying no heed to Jixia’s words.

Father and son returned to their wooden house. Qingfu sat at the doorway, carefully grinding herbs with a pestle. The mining operations in Cold Creek Valley had entered the right track, and the number of injured slaves was growing. Qingfu, the only shaman in the valley skilled in healing and medicinal arts, had been overwhelmed, preparing life-saving remedies daily.

Seeing Ji Hao forcibly dragging Jixia over, Qingfu wiped the sweat from her brow with a smile, “Hao, don’t bother your father. The mining work is important. If you have nothing to do, go find your uncle and catch some parrots to play with.”

Ji Hao said nothing, but firmly helped Qingfu up, pulling both Jixia and Qingfu inside and carefully shutting the door.

Jixia and Qingfu’s expressions grew serious. Jixia instinctively lowered his voice. “Hao, is there something wrong? Did you discover something unusual?”

Ji Hao pulled out the medicine bottle Abao had given him and handed it to Qingfu. “Mother, take a look—this is a shaman medicine Abao left for me. He said his elders gave it to him for emergencies, and it will help both you and father recover from your injuries.”

Qingfu looked at Ji Hao in surprise and shook her head with a smile. “Hao… your father and I had our shaman nodes broken, hurting our bloodlines. Ordinary medicine won’t…”

She opened the bottle, and bright golden light streamed out like needles, cutting off her unfinished words. Dumbfounded, Qingfu poured out two pills, staring at them in a daze.

Two golden pills, each the size of a sparrow’s egg, spun in her palm. Warm golden light flowed continuously from them, surrounded by a radiant glow. On each pill, nine purple dragon-like patterns chased each other as if alive.

“This medicine… is alive?” Qingfu’s gaze wandered over the pills. Their appearance utterly overturned her understanding of shaman medicine. None in the southern wilds looked like this—this was something altogether different.

“Mother, alive or not, just swallow it!” Without hesitation, Ji Hao grabbed one pill and stuffed it into Qingfu’s mouth.

Jixia, letting out a loud laugh, didn’t need prompting. He grabbed the other pill and tossed it in.

Ji Hao had no idea about the pills’ potency or taste. He simply watched as a faint, magnificent purple-golden glow suddenly appeared across Jixia and Qingfu’s faces.

Purple mist emerged and faded, repeating nine times. With a soft hiss, strands of purple vapor poured from their crowns, forming a cloud shaped like a lingzhi mushroom above them, more than a yard wide.

Strange spiritual light flashed across their skin, and thick black blood seeped from their pores.

Jixia, once skeletal and gaunt, swelled as if inflated, his flesh becoming robust and healthy. Qingfu, equally haggard and looking like a woman of forty, underwent a rapid transformation. Her graying hair turned glossy and black, and her features shifted to the lively appearance of a young maiden.

“It seems… it seems to be working!” Jixia stammered. “Hao, my shaman nodes, the ones that were broken, I can feel them again!”

“There are four pills left—take them all quickly!” Ji Hao didn’t hesitate, rapidly stuffing the remaining pills into Jixia and Qingfu’s mouths.

Qingfu stamped her feet anxiously. “Hao, leave one, let me examine it carefully.”

But Ji Hao had no interest in her scientific curiosity, shoving the pills into her hands as fast as possible.

Qingfu grunted, forgetting any complaint, and sat down beside Jixia, her body trembling violently.

Red and blue light shimmered throughout the hut. Jixia was enveloped in a golden-red blaze, while Qingfu was wrapped in a cocoon of vines that sprouted out of nowhere.

After an unknown length of time, flames above Jixia’s head condensed into a three-legged fire crow.

As the fire crow let out a faint cry, azure mist whirled above Qingfu’s head, and a beautiful green luan bird slowly took shape.

Ji Hao burst into laughter, the shadow that had weighed on his heart since childhood from his parents’ injuries swept away, replaced by a sudden clarity and serenity.

Laughing, Ji Hao sat cross-legged on the ground, focusing entirely on practicing the Sutra of Heaven’s Repair. The five-colored flames within him grew several times livelier than usual, devouring and transforming the great shaman’s blood at nearly ten times the usual speed!

A roar thundered from within his body, the barriers in his heart vanished, and he could no longer suppress his power. At last, his bloodline awoke in full. A firelight rose behind him, and two elongated fiery eyes slowly emerged from the glow.