Master of Strange Dao

第二天.

Yu Ziqing arrived at the Underground Mushroom Forest just as a Jinlan Mushroom began to wobble and collapse, a bit later than the usual felling time.

And the starving ghost wasn't far away, standing right next to the felled Jinlan Mushroom.

Upon seeing Yu Ziqing, it awkwardly clasped its hands in a long bow, as if it had secretly learned this somewhere and never used it before—its movements were noticeably stiff.

After the bow, the starving ghost immediately retreated, disappearing into the darkness.

Yu Ziqing glanced over and saw that the wooden bowl he had left there the previous day was gone.

Yu Ziqing chuckled to himself, this starving ghost—he'd just praised it for being smart, and now it ate all the food without returning the bowl.

What, after eating this meal, does it not plan to eat the next one?

Not knowing the difference between fullness once and fullness always—it's worse than a cat.

Wooden bowls in the village were quite precious nowadays; the petrified trunk of the Jinlan Mushroom was too coarse—good for firewood but not much else—and other usable trees were hard to find on the surface.

As for outside the village, everything was dead and barren; it was difficult to even find withered weeds, let alone ordinary trees.

For Yu Ziqing to give a wooden bowl to this starving ghost was because it seemed to have a chance at walking the right path, so he was willing to give it a little opportunity. It was one of the few things Yu Ziqing could offer.

When he first heard Er Han say there was a starving ghost here, both fierce and different, he suspected it was an actual hungry ghost.

People here weren't really good at distinguishing starving ghosts from hungry ghosts.

A starving ghost was a type of ghost, while a hungry ghost was a category of ghost.

As for the starving ghosts and hungry ghosts in the village, they probably didn't look very different, which was why people confused them.

There was a core difference that Yu Ziqing knew better than others. The hungry ghosts in this world, as the village chief said, bore eternal hunger, yet could never starve to death or eat, tortured to madness, seeking death as the only escape.

Killing a mad starving ghost was considered a good deed by many.

But hungry ghosts were different. Hungry ghosts, although initially very much like starving ghosts, sometimes still had a chance to eat something.

It's just that this "sometimes" wasn't easy to come by.

That foolish hungry ghost hadn't returned the bowl, but Yu Ziqing didn't mind; after all, he'd already given out the opportunity, and what followed was minor importance.

Thus the days went on with little change. Yu Ziqing enjoyed them sweetly, feeling quite comfortable. In less than a month, eating well each day and keeping up his nutrition, the ribs that seemed about to break through his skin became less prominent.

Once he finished cutting the Jinlan Mushroom, he no longer needed to shamelessly ask the kitchen aunties for help.

The kitchen aunties were becoming more cunning. Each time they helped carry the Jinlan Mushroom, they had to learn a recipe from him. Later on, they started learning to extract oil.

If this continued, Yu Ziqing would have to try washing out starch to make cold noodles…

Pulling the Jinlan Mushroom out from the ground was a bit of a hassle, but doing it slowly, one person could barely manage.

A little way off on the hillside, the village chief watched Yu Ziqing and laughed, only speaking to Er Han beside him after seeing Yu Ziqing enter the kitchen.

"What do you think of him?"

"The food he makes is tasty," Er Han blurted out without thinking, quickly adding upon seeing his father's face change slightly, "Brother Yu is quite good. Besides cooking deliciously, he knows a lot, and he's a good person, though a bit weak—he can't even carry a single Jinlan Mushroom."

"Yes, his cooking is indeed tasty. I never thought Jinlan Mushroom could be made like this before. It's a pity to have him mining…"

"Father, Brother Yu is too weak to mine!" Er Han immediately worried.

The village chief said nothing, only looking at his son's appearance with much amusement. After laughing, he pointed toward the kitchen.

"Perhaps you're right; it would be a waste. There's no lack of miners, and his body is indeed too weak. If you have time, teach him some fist skill to build his strength. Otherwise, if he encounters danger in the Mushroom Forest, he wouldn't even have the strength to call for help."

"Sure, I've got time now." Er Han beamed with joy and happily ran toward the kitchen.

The village chief watched from afar. After a long while, he restrained his smile, letting out a long sigh, with a hint of hidden worry on his brow.

On the other side, Er Han dashed to the kitchen door, making faces at Yu Ziqing, who was working inside.

"Er Han, have you starved until your nose and eyes are twitching?"

"Not at all, I have something to talk to you about." Er Han stretched his neck, sniffing, the fragrance of oil making him decide not to speak at once. "Brother Yu, you finish cooking first. I'll wait until you're done."

"Alright."

After the meal, Er Han pulled Yu Ziqing along to the back mountain.

"Er Han, what do you want to do first? Isn't the back mountain off-limits?" Despite saying this, Yu Ziqing didn't stop walking.

He had wanted to explore the back mountain for a long time but had always restrained his curiosity. Apart from the places necessary for living and work, he hadn't ventured elsewhere on his own, avoiding unnecessary trouble.

He was merely a newcomer who hadn't been here for long.

Reaching the back mountain, Yu Ziqing saw many graves, the air thick with an eerie chill. Villagers buried everyone who died in the back mountain, and those who had come to steal were digging here.

Therefore, the back mountain had always been sensitive in the village, with no one daring to come here alone for fear of suspicious accusations.

Er Han led Yu Ziqing through a large area of old graves. Most appeared to have been there for years, with only a few having fresh-looking earth on their mounds.

Once they moved past the graves, circled another small hill, they immediately saw a massive piece of scorched black stone, hundreds of feet wide.

Upon getting closer, Yu Ziqing noticed uneven footprints clearly marked upon it.

"Brother Yu, Father thinks your body is too weak, afraid that if you're chopping mushrooms and encounter bugs…uh, you can't catch them, so he asked me to teach you some fist skill to strengthen you. Watch closely."

Er Han didn't bother asking whether Yu Ziqing wanted to learn. To him, this was a good thing, so he started right away.

He leaped onto the black stone, his entire demeanor changing in an instant. Muscles tensed, the usually simple gaze in his eyes sharpened. With a low shout, his feet sank an inch into the black stone, a heavy sense of oppression wrapping around him.

Yu Ziqing's eyes sharpened, an instinctive retreat taking two steps back as if suddenly facing a fierce beast, a primal fear coursing through his veins.

Oblivious to this, Er Han went on practicing, each punch and kick exuding a ferocity. His skin began showing a faint bronze hue.

Yu Ziqing also keenly noticed that as Er Han practiced the fist skill, wisps of scarcely visible black vapor seeped from the black stone beneath him, absorbed by Er Han as he practiced.

Over time, the amount of black vapor grew, surging like a billowing smoke, inhaled by Er Han as he moved with focus.

Yu Ziqing was certain this wasn't Qi Refining cultivation; those black vapors weren't anything like the gaseous substances he remembered.

This was the Nourishing Body Technique old Yang spoke of.

By normal standards, Er Han was indeed an ordinary person, having never begun any formal cultivation—he wasn't a cultivator, and this wasn't among the many cultivation paths old Yang mentioned.

He was merely nourishing his body, but in an extraordinary manner. A full-strength punch from him would likely smash the heads of the four Evil Dao shepherds earlier.

After the time it would take to burn two incense sticks, all settled back to calmness, and Er Han stepped out with a sheepish grin, rubbing his head.

"Brother Yu, don't blame me. Once I start practicing, I forget I'm supposed to teach…"

"No worries, watching you once is a standard procedure. You can slowly teach me next. By the way, what's this fist skill called?"

Yu Ziqing wasn't one for false modesty. If there was a chance to learn the Nourishing Body Technique that old Yang specifically mentioned, he would seize it and learn diligently.

"What's it called? Just fist skill, right?"

"..."

Alright then, fist skill it is. The name wasn't important.

When he stepped onto the black stone to practice, Yu Ziqing felt a sensation similar to his usual workouts, with his muscles tensing up and exerting force, his heartbeat accelerating, and his breathing quickening—only the feeling was more pronounced now.

The resistance that hindered his strength was dissipating bit by bit with the fist skill movements. The sense of barrier met when lifting weights to an extreme and being unable to move further was fading away, gradually breaking down.

Days later, after learning the entire set of fist skills, when he managed to perform them all at once, albeit less smoothly, he found the most accurate way to describe it.

Shackles.

The shackles inhibiting his physical strength disappeared during practice, allowing him to easily break the limits of a mortal, yet in every cultivator's definition, he remained a mortal.

Finally able to practice a skill he could learn, Yu Ziqing realized he shouldn't set his expectations too high; getting stronger was all that mattered.

…

Outside the Jinlan Mine, amidst the icy snow, a cavalry unit stood at the entrance.

All the horses were clad in scale armor, and the cavalry on them were fully armed. Silence settled among them, with steaming breath rising continuously, dispersing the falling snowflakes from the sky.

At the forefront, a man with sword-like brows and starry eyes, dressed in a snug black outfit under a vermilion cloak, stood tall, gazing ahead with slight concern.

"Camp outside, I'll go in alone to fetch the goods."

He dismounted, glanced at the desolate slope on the left, then at the locust forest to the right, before stepping forward down the middle path.

But before his foot could land, a slight tremor came from the Tiger Head Hook at his waist, a sigil flashing, and a tiger head phantom darted out, letting out a low growl at the front.

The newcomer looked down the central path, eyebrows furrowed, glanced left again, then to the right, retrieving a scroll from his bosom, holding it single-handedly as he walked toward the locust forest on the right.

As he stepped into the forest, a fine glow emanated from the scroll, enveloping him entirely.

However, the strange locust forest seemed to remain oblivious to his presence, with its ambient aura flowing without any hint of change.

In no time, he disappeared through the locust forest, vanishing into the mist.