Chapter 5: The Pill Head and the Taoist’s Corpse

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“What is this…” Lord Mud regarded the two heads and asked.

The flicker of ghostly fire in the temple revealed two squat, chubby figures whose bodies gleamed with oily mouse fur. Their sharp noses and beady eyes shone with sly mirth, their faces creased into grins.

Mouse Three, in his pointed cap, hefted one of the heads, baring his teeth as he said, “We ran into these two on the mountain road. Looked like they were searching for something. Since we brothers came empty-handed, and feared it might be disrespectful, we simply took their heads as an offering for you, Lord Mud.”

“You are thoughtful.”

Lord Mud took the two human heads, wiped a hand across his face, and selected one with a look of distaste. “This one is hideous. Its very brains must be foul and greasy. You two take it.”

He was about to toss it aside when he noticed the docile mortal staring in a daze from the side.

Weighing the two heads, Lord Mud turned in surprise to Ji Ming and asked, “Were these two people perhaps acquaintances of yours?”

“Yes,” Ji Ming quickly regained his composure and replied, “One was a childhood friend from my own clan, the other… a brother from the same village. They must have come up the mountain looking for me…”

Seeing Ji Ming so stunned, Lord Mud began to worry that he might harbor thoughts of death, which could ruin the carefully prepared game he had in mind.

“Don’t be sad, young man. The game in our temple tonight will be an experience unlike any you’ve ever had in your life.”

“Let’s play!” urged Mouse Three and Mouse Four impatiently.

Ji Ming rose to his feet, and under Lord Mud’s increasingly astonished gaze, slowly took the two heads. With a forceful surge of energy in his palms, he brought both hands down hard upon them.

The two skulls burst open instantly, their contents spilling across the floor.

Mouse Four, in his round cap, stuck out his tongue and lamented the waste, drooling as he watched.

The beautiful skeletal woman’s eyes flashed as she voiced Ji Ming’s thoughts. “He feared we would defile his friends’ heads, so he destroyed them himself to preserve their final dignity.”

She regarded Ji Ming with appreciation and said, “Lord Mud, such a fine youth must have a pure and resolute spirit—would you let me have him?”

“Enough of that!” Lord Mud turned stern, pointing at Ji Ming, whose hands were slick with blood. “Lady Whitebone, have you discerned the secret art this one used?”

“Is it perhaps the Crane Control Technique?”

“Indeed, the Crane Control Technique. Its origin traces back to ‘Mount Taiping,’ which holds sway over three domains in Guhezhou—a true orthodox immortal sect.”

Mouse Three, impatient, blurted out, “What’s that got to do with our game?”

“If it’s complicated, we’re not playing,” muttered Mouse Four, clutching his cap.

“No! It’s quite simple.” Lord Mud’s clay eyes never left Ji Ming. “We’ll wager whether he can truly master the Crane Control Technique.”

“To cultivate that art, one needs the Feather Powder elixir for support,” Lady Whitebone mused. “Don’t tell me you’ve acquired the Feather Powder, or its formula?”

Lord Mud chuckled. “If that was all, our game would be far too dull!”

With two heavy slaps to his rotund clay belly, something bizarre happened—a strange corpse appeared out of thin air in the old temple.

“A Taoist…” The tiger spirit, who had been lurking in the background behind Ji Ming, spoke in a slurred voice.

Ji Ming had seen true Taoists before, but this one could easily have passed for a monster.

The corpse was withered and desiccated, covered all over with dense, variously sized follicles—not hair follicles, but rather “feather follicles.” On its back, some of these follicles had already sprouted feathers.

Lord Mud plucked a feather from the corpse and held it out to Ji Ming. “Do you know what this elixir is?”

Ji Ming took the feather, recalling annotations from a secret text, and replied solemnly, “It is a thing used to borrow the false to cultivate the true.”

“Though our bodies are gifts from our parents, they are but mortal flesh. After decades, who can escape decay and death? Thus, we borrow the Four Great Elements, rebuild bone, flesh, and organs, and refine a single undying true nature.”

Ji Ming asked, “What are the Four Great Elements?”

“Earth, water, wind, and fire! The human body possesses these, but by now they are like dead stone and rotten wood, no longer suitable for refinement. Only among demons, spirits, and magical herbs can the true Four Elements—called ‘spiritual mechanism’ by cultivators—be found. Even a trace, once refined by water and fire, can turn stone to jade, and restore decayed wood to life. One of Mount Taiping’s signature elixirs, Feather Powder, is made from the feathers of a hundred birds, refined and mixed with water for ingestion—it opens the path of cultivation.”

Lord Mud pushed Ji Ming before the Taoist’s corpse, then turned with a smile to the other monsters in the temple.

“This body consumed many elixirs in life. Without the restraint of secret arts, its flesh began to demonize after death.”

Ji Ming was not afraid—in fact, he was eager to try—but a pressing question remained.

Lord Mud, seeing his confusion, answered before he could speak. “You’re wondering about the relationship between elixirs, secret arts, and the demonization of a Taoist’s corpse after death.”

Mouse Three interjected irritably, “Who cares what he thinks? Is a mere mortal going to receive the Dao and have his doubts answered here?”

Ji Ming fixed Mouse Three with a sudden smile, so unexpected it made the mouse’s heart quail.

“Do I look afraid of death?”

“You—”

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Mouse Three was taken aback, his cheeks flushing as he snuck a glance at Lady Whitebone, then began cursing loudly.

“I’ll answer you!” Lady Whitebone, charmed by the youth’s stubborn resolve, could not help but intervene. “Lord Mud, may I…”

“Go ahead,” Lord Mud replied, who, having cultivated for over a century, could easily discern the truth behind the youth’s words.

With permission, Lady Whitebone approached Ji Ming gracefully, her presence part human, part ghost. She explained:

“The Feather Powder elixir is refined from the feathers of a hundred birds. These are not ordinary birds—they must be those who have achieved spiritual power, those with cultivation. Only then will the elixir brim with spiritual mechanism, nourishing the flesh and strengthening the meridians. However… because such elixirs are made from demons and spirits like us, they inevitably contain a trace of demonic nature or evil intent, which must be resolved through secret arts. Of course, one cannot ignore the brilliance of you cultivators, who have cleverly transformed this demonic nature into a medicinal auxiliary to the secret arts. By now, this has become an indispensable resource for cultivating secret arts. But once the practitioner dies and the Dao dissipates, the demonic nature previously resolved by the arts resurfaces, causing the corpse to demonize.”

Hearing Lady Whitebone’s explanation, Ji Ming felt a flicker of resolve. If this was so, the demonic nature within this Taoist’s corpse might indeed help him master the Crane Control Technique.

At the same time, Ji Ming understood that both Lord Mud and Lady Whitebone deliberately avoided mentioning one thing—true cultivation methods.

After all, without a genuine method, how could one assimilate the elixir’s spiritual mechanism? Secret arts are but techniques, not the true path.

He did not press further. These beings were not his teachers; further questions would only annoy them.

For now, he would see if he could use this corpse to cultivate the Crane Control Technique and perhaps lay a foundation for his next life.

Surrounded by monsters and spirits, Ji Ming had never entertained hopes of surviving.

His Spirit Eye already displayed the character for “Egg,” indicating that in his next life, he would be reborn through an egg.

He recalled that in his previous life, the Spirit Eye had shown the character for “Womb,” and after he was killed, he had indeed been reborn as a human fetus.

Glancing about, he wondered if, should he be killed by some egg-laying creature, he might not be reborn as one of their kind.

He was still in the early stages of exploring the “Eye of Egg, Womb, and Transformation,” and sensed there was much yet to uncover.

But after surveying his surroundings, he saw no egg-laying creatures.

His hypothesis untested, Ji Ming felt a slight pang of disappointment.