Chapter 21: Harvesting Essence, The Demonic Path

The journey Mouse Four made wasted much of his precious time for escape, yet before Ji Ming, he never revealed the urgency or anxiety for his own safety. Outside the pond, Ji Ming opened the small wooden box Mouse Four had retrieved for him. Inside was a small pouch of Azure Essence Rice and a single silver badge.

Holding the silver badge, Ji Ming spoke to Mouse Four, "Time is running short. I fear further complications may arise. It is time for us to part." Before their farewell, Ji Ming presented the badge to Mouse Four, saying, "I grant you this silver badge, so that one day you may draw upon the essence of sun and moon, and have some strength to protect yourself."

Mouse Four gazed at the badge. Having served in the society for years, he knew full well what it represented, and could not help but feel his nose sting with emotion. Even Mouse Three, while alive, had never treated him so kindly.

"Lord!" Mouse Four called out, his voice choked with tears. "Your wounds have not yet healed. Better I stay until you recover, before I depart."

The title sounded awkward, but Ji Ming, not wishing to wound Mouse Four’s feelings, acquiesced. He pressed the badge into Mouse Four’s breast and spoke with deep meaning: "Remember this, Mouse Four: if anyone seeks you with a short verse, that person will be my closest confidant. Treat him as you would me, with the same loyalty and respect."

Though Mouse Four harbored some doubts, he knew his lord possessed secrets beyond his understanding. He nodded solemnly, "Mouse Four’s wit is limited, but my loyalty is absolute. If ever someone brings the short verse, I will serve them with utmost care."

Ji Ming was deeply satisfied. Accumulation was not only about knowledge and experience, but also about having such useful spirits as Mouse Four. This was an excellent experiment, a quiet move on the board, hopeful to bear fruit one day.

"What’s the verse?" Mouse Four asked.

"White clouds and yellow cranes mark the home of the wanderer; one zither, one sword, and a cup of tea."

After parting with Mouse Four, Ji Ming spent his days by the pond recuperating, using a certain force within the pond to reveal the shadows of the words. At night, he cultivated the Moon-worship Technique, bowing to the bright moon above.

The Moon-worship Technique was born from the faith of demons and spirits in the moon—specifically the ancient Yellow Sky Moon, not the current Azure Sky Moon. Ji Ming did not fully grasp the difference between the two, but to smoothly draw in spiritual energy with the Moon-worship or Shapeshifting Technique, one had to revere the Yellow Sky among the three heavens.

According to the inscription on the silver badge, the Yellow Sky was the most turbid, nurturing all things, and thus the most benevolent; to draw in its spiritual energy, one needed only sincere faith. This phrase sparked many associations in Ji Ming’s mind.

From this perspective, the dominant Azure Sky seemed to restrict the flow of spiritual energy, unlike the benevolence of the Yellow Sky.

The bright moon hung like a silver plate in the sky, casting its radiant glow everywhere. Ji Ming, perched on the jujube tree by the pond, resembled a bald vulture—listless, craning his neck, opening and closing his beak.

Moonlight flowed like milk, and under its mysterious influence, it dripped into Ji Ming’s beak. After drinking the moon’s spiritual energy, his dull black feathers regained some luster, and his frail body grew livelier.

"Ka!" he croaked feebly, gazing into the distance.

There, the refugees who had settled here after the drought had gradually formed a small earthen stronghold. On the outskirts, wooden stakes and fences served as defenses; even deep into the night, a few patrolmen carried torches.

After some observation, Ji Ming understood why Lord Bo Ni had called these refugees a source of chaos and filth. As the saying goes: in busy times, they farm; in idle times, they rob. These settlers perfectly embodied that phrase.

Ji Ming circled the stronghold inside and out, learning that their frequent banditry stemmed from the issue of opening new fields. Farmland, to become truly productive, required at least three years of nurturing. During those years, careful tending was needed, along with borrowed farming tools—especially seed grain—from the households of the Thirteen Great Strongholds.

Tools demanded rent, and grain came with steep interest. One careless mistake, and after three years, the fertile land might be forfeit to the creditors. Yet for settlement, those three years of cultivation were essential.

During that time, the stronghold could not support itself, so to sustain themselves, the refugees turned to banditry, robbing passing merchants. That was their way to generate income.

If only robbery was involved, it could be overlooked. But they had also developed a business in kidnapping. Merchants from nearby—especially those from the Thirteen Strongholds—could ransom themselves with a payment. But for merchants from farther away, even if their families sent ransom, the captives were usually killed regardless.

Ji Ming’s extensive observation was for a reason: he planned to do something extraordinary. To accumulate more before his next incarnation as the Wet-born, he resolved to follow the art of harvesting essence, to refine his own cultivation.

He had come to realize—indeed, he should have realized sooner—that he was not striving to become a demon-immortal, so why endure the hardships of pure cultivation and chase after a pristine spiritual form?

Of course, for t