Chapter Twenty-One: Talisman Water

In the next moment, the dream was abruptly severed, and Ji Xun’s consciousness returned wholly to the Demon Refining Vessel. Whether Tiger Feather lived or died in the end, and whether he obtained the Spirit Fruit of Curing Sickness, all of this was now unknown.

“If I ever get the chance, I must visit Qingliu Kingdom, where Tiger Feather lived,” Ji Xun mused to himself.

Then, he harnessed the power of the Demon Refining Vessel to purge some trivial, useless memories, leaving only those related to cultivation methods and the general course of Tiger Feather’s life. As for the “Tiger-Crane Dual-Form Boxing,” all insights regarding the fist forms were carefully retained by Ji Xun.

Yet such things—even if someone laid out the entire fist technique for others—were still hard to truly comprehend. After all, people differ greatly in experience, temperament, aptitude, interests, physical constitution, and more. The same method would not necessarily yield mastery of the fist form.

Still, Ji Xun felt a strong affinity with the “Tiger-Crane Dual-Form Boxing.” The beastly blood within him allowed the Yi Xuan method to mimic the demon aura of both tiger and crane, enabling him to wield some related secret techniques.

Overall, Tiger Feather’s cultivation experience, being closer to the current era, diverged entirely from the Yi Xuan method. The wisdom of others could indeed polish one’s own jade.

Emerging from the Demon Refining Vessel, Ji Xun felt as if he had lived through another lifetime—like spending hours engrossed in a mesmerizing film. Yet the sense of reality and immersion was much sharper; while dreaming, time seemed to fly by, and never once did he feel bored.

Turning the pages of the “Tiger-Crane Dual-Form Boxing” in reality, he found that the torn pages were precisely those containing the fist form insights. This made Ji Xun ponder.

“What exactly is the relationship between that tiger demon and Tiger Feather? To think he obtained the secret manual Tiger Feather buried.”

“Tiger Feather clearly concealed the manual with a formation; under normal circumstances, it would have been impossible to find. Maybe someone dug up the grave…”

Unable to fathom the truth, Ji Xun stepped out of the thatched hut and began practicing the boxing outside.

At first, his movements were clumsy and uncertain, but his progress was rapid, and before long, he managed to establish the basic form. Each move and stance, the transitions between fist and foot, showed some shape and intent.

Soon, Ji Xun noticed a problem: he seemed more gifted in the tiger form, while the crane form proved much harder for him to master.

……

In the blink of an eye, half a month had passed. The weather grew colder, and much of the foliage in the mountains had begun to wither and yellow.

Wildlife on the mountain was dwindling; some larger beasts were likely already hibernating.

Ji Xun spent his days practicing boxing at the foot of the mountain, reading the books he’d brought back when tired, and at night, Da Huang went out to distant fields searching for Hundred Beast Insects.

One had to admit, Da Huang’s hearing and sense of smell surpassed his own, but even so, he could not find many Hundred Beast Insects. It seemed the insects had all gone into hiding.

The Hundred Beast Blood he accumulated was either refined by Ji Xun or used to hasten the germination of Hundred Beast Grass seeds.

Hundred Beast Grass, cultivated with the beastly blood, grew exceedingly fast.

Three days ago, Ji Xun fed Da Huang a stalk of Hundred Beast Grass nearly reaching the mysterious grade.

Yet Da Huang’s aptitude was much lower than his own. Clearly only a step away from becoming a true demon, eating the Hundred Beast Grass still failed to push him across the threshold.

“Da Huang, your aptitude is probably just low mysterious grade. If you never become a demon, I won’t even be able to guess what breed you really are.”

If only he knew what bloodline Da Huang belonged to, he could have him refine the blood of his kin, which would improve his aptitude.

That night, Ji Xun cooked some fish caught from the river, seasoned with local spices, and the taste was barely acceptable.

Just as he was finishing his meal, Da Huang’s throat began to rumble and whine. The meaning was clear—someone was approaching, someone it did not recognize.

“It’s nearly night, who could be coming?” Ji Xun wondered, quickly finishing the fish in his bowl.

“Wang Dali, are you home?” came a shrill female voice.

Ji Xun opened the door to find a woman in her forties, a farmer’s wife, waiting outside.

“Aunt Xu, it’s so late—what brings you here?”

“Oh, nothing really. Just thought I’d check in on you, as neighbors should.”

Ji Xun was inwardly speechless. She never spoke a word to him before, and now, near nightfall, she came to check on him? Who would believe that?

“If there’s nothing else, Aunt Xu, I think I’ll head to bed.”

“Wait, don’t go. Come here, have you heard of the Three Yang Sect?”

“……”

“Let me tell you, the Three Yang Sect is a great place. Once you join, everyone’s your brother, sister, kin, and friend—even the snake demon lord wouldn’t dare trouble us easily.”

“……”

It was all too reminiscent of pyramid schemes from his previous life—a group of idle housewives selling to family and friends.

“So if I join, Aunt Xu, as kin and friend, could you lend me a tael or two of demon silver?”

“……”

This time, Aunt Xu fell silent.

“Oh, you young man, here, take this talisman. Place it under your pillow, and you’ll wake up tomorrow feeling full of energy.”

“If you ever fall ill, burn the talisman, and you’ll recover within a day. From then on, you’re one of the sect. I’ll be heading home now.”

With that, Aunt Xu pressed a tattered yellow paper into Ji Xun’s hands and left without a backward glance. Judging by her direction, she was off to canvass another household.

Ji Xun examined the talisman and found it did indeed contain a faint demon aura, seemingly able to clear one’s mind and calm one’s spirit.

Yet its effect was barely perceptible—certainly not enough to make one energetic. Ordinary folk would notice no difference at all.

“Is it a matter of faith? Are these people just giving themselves psychological suggestions?”

After studying it for a while, Ji Xun burned the talisman and dissolved the ash in water, taking a small sip.

He had no fear of demon poison or demon aura—unless it was exceedingly potent, he could refine any amount in the Demon Refining Vessel.

The faint demon aura in the talisman water was quickly digested by the serpent’s stomach.

Soon, a thread of demon aura entered Ji Xun’s flesh, and he carefully sensed it.

“Hm, perhaps it has a slight fortifying effect on ordinary people, but afterwards it seems to damage the fundamental vitality. This is clearly a weaker version of the tiger-wolf tonic.”

There was something wrong with the Three Yang Sect. In the past, villagers gathered to talk about joining this or that organization for peace and safety.

But it was always small-scale, just for psychological comfort, and never involved items imbued with demon aura.

……

The next day.

Ji Xun visited Old Master Lin’s house and subtly inquired about the Three Yang Sect.

“I think it started about half a year ago. They recruit members very secretly.”

“But I don’t feel good about those talismans. If they could really cure illness, would they give them out so casually?”

“Dali, you make a good point. I’ll try to dissuade them, but that’s a minor matter. What do you think of Little Yun?”

“Little Yun is a good girl. By the way, I’ve got fish cooking at home—I’d better head back.”

Lin Xiaoyun was barely twelve this year—Old Master Lin was being entirely inappropriate.