Chapter Nine: The Flying Tiger Takes Guo Away

At this moment, Zhou Qian was already standing at the foot of She Mountain. The previous night, he had quietly packed his belongings, purchased all the necessities for venturing into the mountains, and slipped away under the cover of darkness. By dawn, after finishing his breathing exercises at the base of the mountain, Zhou Qian gazed at the towering peaks, took a deep breath, and steeled himself for the challenge ahead. To pursue the wilderness chronicle, he had to press on.

As mentioned earlier, She Mountain was exceedingly steep, and Zhou Qian, venturing alone this time, could not help but feel anxious. At the slightest sound or movement, he would immediately hide or take cover, so it was nearly midday by the time he reached halfway up the mountain. Wiping the sweat from his brow and panting for breath, he decided to take a rest. The mountain was covered with pines and cypresses; Zhou Qian picked a tall, lush old tree, climbed into its branches, and ate some dry rations before finally relaxing enough to enjoy the scenery.

She Mountain's peaks were more striking than those of the neighboring hills, its summit piercing the clouds, shrouded in mist. The forest below was like a sea of green, as if a velvet carpet had been unrolled. The robust, towering pagoda pines, dragon cypresses, spruces, and cedars stood upright and proud. Peach, plum, apricot, and countless other fruit trees hung heavy with ripening fruit, making Zhou Qian's mouth water. Yet, mindful of his own safety, he resisted the temptation. Even in the short time he had been climbing, Zhou Qian had already encountered wild boars, badgers, mountain monkeys, patterned snakes, pheasants, and other creatures. Fortunately, he had not run into any man-eating beasts, but even these animals were enough to frighten him badly. The mountain wildlife was untamed and ferocious. Soon after entering the mountain, he had come face-to-face with a wild boar nearly as tall as a man, its black bristles and sharp tusks gleaming, small eyes glinting with hostility. Zhou Qian had broken out in a cold sweat, but it seemed the boar was not interested in him and left after a brief glare; otherwise, his expedition would have ended before it began, trampled by a pig.

Though the scenery was beautiful, he soon grew weary of it. With nothing else to do, Zhou Qian began practicing the acupoint stimulation technique taught by Ba Zi Liu. The method comprised sixteen forms, and after stimulating the acupoints on his fingers for only the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, they began to feel warm and tingly. Zhou Qian was amazed; according to his Sixth Uncle, normal people need ten days to feel this sensation, those with strong constitutions three or four days at best. He himself had not felt it until the fifth day. How could Zhou Qian experience it so quickly?

What Zhou Qian did not realize was that the internal breathing method passed down by Zhou Xun was among the finest secret arts in the martial world, with extraordinary effects on strengthening the organs. Combined with the rare Foundation-Nourishing Pill, the conditioning of his internal organs made his acupoints far more receptive. Moreover, Zhou Qian was exceptionally talented; Zhou Xun had searched across the land for ten years to find such a worthy successor. With both these advantages, Zhou Qian advanced in his practice at an astonishing pace. Most importantly, while Ba Zi Liu had described "inch force" in mystical terms, to a martial arts grandmaster like Zhou Xun, it was merely a basic method of energy manipulation, vastly inferior to his own teachings. He hadn't even bothered to teach it to his disciples, instead waiting until Zhou Qian had mastered the basics before imparting his true skills.

Having climbed all morning, Zhou Qian was already fatigued; practicing the technique further drained his energy. Before long, he had dozed off in the tree. When he woke, still groggy, he noticed a red fruit, about the size of a longan, tottering across the branch of a yellow apricot tree opposite him—a bizarre sight that left him stunned.

The red fruit had two tiny, twig-like offshoots from its stem, which it used to walk. It moved toward a yellow apricot, suddenly split open, and with a series of crunching sounds, devoured more than half of the apricot—it was eating the fruit!

Startled, Zhou Qian feared he had suffered some mishap from his training. He rubbed his eyes hard, but when he looked again, the red fruit had vanished. He let out a sigh of relief, but a casual glance made his blood run cold: the yellow apricot had indeed been half-eaten, its remains still dangling from the branch, juice dripping to the ground. A chill wind swept through the forest, and Zhou Qian felt the woods were oppressively eerie.

After resting a bit more, Zhou Qian resumed his climb, not stopping until the moon rose and stars dotted the night sky. He found another tree to sleep in. In this way, resting by day and traveling by night, three or four days passed before Zhou Qian, following his memory northward, finally found the cave hidden in a mountain valley.

The cave entrance was narrow and well-concealed. Had it not been for a stroke of luck, Zhou Qian and his companions never would have found it. Inside, a cold spring trickled and greenery flourished, flanked by precipitous cliffs. Zhou Qian breathed a long sigh of relief—at last, he had arrived.

He was in a sorry state: his clothes were tattered, covered in dust. At the sight of the spring, his eyes lit up; he could not wait to strip off his clothes and leap in. Instantly, every pore in his body felt open and refreshed. He drank deeply of the water, a chill surging through him and leaving him shivering with pleasure—he had never tasted water so delicious.

Only after washing himself clean did Zhou Qian remember he was there to gather herbs. Ten paces from the lake, he found the leopard tail grass. Comparing it to the sample the shopkeeper had given him, he confirmed it was genuine and was overjoyed. After collecting enough, he searched the area for other herbs he might have missed before. Here, he had to thank Zhou Xun for the "Lu Family Medical Classic," which detailed the identification of herbs and listed over a thousand kinds, so Zhou Qian could search by following its descriptions.

His search yielded three rare herbs: haregrass, frost fungus, and iceleaf. Perhaps because the valley was so cold, two of these herbs were of the cold-natured variety, while haregrass could both stop bleeding and replenish the body.

At that moment, a purple glow and a blue radiance hovered about a hundred yards above She Mountain, revealing two exquisitely beautiful women.

One of the women frowned slightly and said, "Sister Su Xin, what should we do? I missed a divine apricot. If Grandmother finds out, I don’t know how she’ll punish me! I can’t bear the agony of having my bones drawn and tendons refined."

The woman called Su Xin had a fox-like, enchanting face and wore revealing clothes—her long legs and bare shoulders barely covered by a sheer veil; a deep, snow-white cleavage was visible on her chest. She laughed coquettishly: "Don’t worry so much. There were a hundred apricots; missing one is no big deal. Ghost Grandmother dotes on you more than anyone. At worst, I’ll borrow my master Immortal Floater’s name to plead your case."

Qin’er was delighted and grateful. "Thank you, Sister! That fire apricot tree is Grandmother’s treasure, bearing fruit only once every hundred years. These divine apricots can purify blood and strengthen the soul—they are precious beyond compare. Once fallen, the fruit gains its own spirit and will escape if not watched closely. I can’t say how much effort I’ve spent on these hundred fruits—can’t scold, can’t punish, can’t use magic or spells—it’s a hassle! Now, delivering all hundred to the Demon Lord is such a critical task, I really am at my wits’ end!"

Su Xin comforted her a few more words, then suddenly stamped her foot in midair and pouted, "That little tiger cub is so useless! It’s supposed to be a descendant of my master’s yellow-eyed spirit tiger, yet it can’t even find a fruit, making me lose face in front of you. Never mind, let’s focus on delivering the apricots. It’s just a mongrel demon—if it’s lost, so be it!"

Qin’er nodded, and the two women rode their sword-lights swiftly toward the Border of Two Worlds.

Zhou Qian now wondered if he truly had suffered a mishap in his practice. Otherwise, how could he be seeing flying tigers and running fruits—such bizarre spectacles?

The demon tiger was yellow-eyed, white-browed, with blood-red fangs—ferocious and awe-inspiring. It was flying two yards above the ground on a cloud of black mist, kicking up a whirlwind of sand and demonic wind. Its eyes fixed intently on a red apricot below, occasionally snarling in rage. The fruit, even stranger, dashed so fast that Zhou Qian could barely see its blur, squeaking shrilly as it ran.

These two spirits—one fleeing, one in hot pursuit—wreaked havoc in the valley, trampling countless herbs and making Zhou Qian clutch his chest in despair; these were all herbs he hadn’t yet gathered!

The yellow-eyed demon tiger, furious at its inability to catch the red apricot, roared again and again, then suddenly exhaled a cloud of red mist. The blood-colored haze instantly filled the valley, withering swathes of herbs in moments. Even Zhou Qian, hiding behind rocks by the cold spring, smelled the blood and felt nauseated. The red apricot, now shrouded by the mist, lost its spirit, slowed visibly, and even its cries grew weak. The yellow-eyed tiger, too, seemed drained, shaking its head before descending from its black cloud to the ground.

It turned out the red mist was the tiger’s essence blood, refined over fifty years of cultivation—monsters use this to condense their demon cores. The tiger’s prowess was insufficient, so it had only managed to refine a single breath’s worth. With that exhalation, it lost at least eighty percent of its vital essence, but the red apricot’s spirit was corrupted, and its movements grew sluggish. With a great roar, the tiger lunged at the apricot.

The red apricot, sensing its life in peril, let out a pitiful squeal; its skin visibly shriveled. Yet, in that instant, a spark of intelligence revived, and it mustered the remnants of its strength to dash toward the cold spring, hoping to escape into the water.

Both monsters were now utterly spent, their speed greatly reduced. At this rate, the red apricot would reach the water before the tiger could catch it. The tiger, aware of this, roared in helpless frustration.

Yet, just as the apricot was about to plunge into the water, a hand reached out and scooped it up—the hand of Zhou Qian, who had been hiding behind the rocks.

Zhou Qian himself had no idea what possessed him in that instant; perhaps it was curiosity about how a fruit could run and scream, or perhaps his acupoints, stimulated for days, made his reactions overly sensitive. In any case, having caught it, there was no reason to let go. Zhou Qian brought the shrieking apricot up for inspection—it was indeed extraordinary! Its surface shimmered with a faint red glow, its two twig-legs flailing desperately, emitting sharp squeaks.

The red apricot was, after all, a celestial treasure and had never been so scrutinized by a mortal. Though it had lost most of its spirit, it was not something Zhou Qian could contain. With a sudden jerk, it tore free from his grasp. But the apricot, disoriented and greatly weakened, fled in the worst possible direction—straight into Zhou Qian’s open mouth. Out of habit, Zhou Qian chewed twice, and just like that, the celestial fruit was gone.

“Tastes pretty good,” Zhou Qian mused. The flavor seemed to combine the best aspects of peaches, plums, and persimmons—sweet, tart, and melting instantly on the tongue. A warm current surged from his throat into his heart and lungs, and then Zhou Qian felt as if his body might burst, his blood boiling beneath his reddened skin. Worse still, the yellow-eyed demon tiger, its eyes bloodshot, was stalking toward him, growling lowly.