Chapter Fifty-Four: Walking with the Dead (Second Update)

As evening approached, Feng Yuan finally retrieved the dagger he’d ordered from Wang the blacksmith. Without so much as a glance at the weapon, he seized it and dashed away—he dared not linger, for Wang had a habit of proposing his daughter’s hand in marriage whenever the mood struck, and it was a truly terrifying prospect.

Back home, Feng Yuan drew out the dagger and examined it carefully. He had to admit, Wang’s craftsmanship was impressive; the blade was about twenty centimeters long, shaped like a miniature sword, and gleamed coldly with a sharp, intimidating aura.

Plucking a strand of hair, Feng Yuan blew it across the edge. The hair did not sever instantly—it lacked the legendary sharpness to slice hair by a mere breath—but the blade was still remarkably keen.

“Let’s see how powerful it is,” Feng Yuan thought to himself. He glanced around the courtyard, selected a stone embedded in the wall, and quickly activated his Sword Control technique. A flash of golden light, and the dagger soared aloft, circling above his head before darting toward the stone.

With a whoosh, the dagger missed its mark, leaving the stone untouched. Feng Yuan stared, surprised at his own miscalculation. The blade sank into the earth instead. He hastily gestured, and the dagger returned to the air.

“Once more!” he commanded. The dagger whistled, speeding toward the stone. With a sharp clang and a shower of sparks, it pierced deep into the rock, embedding halfway and opening a crack across its surface.

Feng Yuan was elated. The power of the Sword Control technique was astonishing—he’d managed to drive the dagger through solid stone. If it struck a person, it would surely pass clean through. This was excellent; tonight, when he ventured up the mountain to confront the evil spirit, he would at least have a formidable skill at his disposal.

He inspected the dagger for damage—none found, the blade unblemished. Satisfied with its quality, he sheathed it and tucked it safely inside his robes.

Next, he checked his own dantian; the golden glow within had dimmed by half. Just a single use had consumed so much energy—this Sword Control was certainly demanding. Still, compared to yesterday’s attempt with the hefty hoe, it seemed more efficient; smaller weapons required much less energy. He mused about fetching a box of needles. They could be deadly, and he’d be able to control them many times over.

“I wonder if this Sword Control technique could carry a person into the air?” Feng Yuan suddenly entertained a bold notion. The book described its protagonist soaring across the heavens on his sword, traversing ninety thousand miles. If he could do the same, then even if tonight’s battle went poorly, he could escape by flying away.

Determined to test it, Feng Yuan walked to the courtyard wall, fetched the hoe, set it on the ground, and straddled it.

“Others ride broomsticks; I ride a hoe. Both are household tools—nothing to be ashamed of,” he thought, then activated the Sword Control technique. A wave of his hand, golden light enveloped the hoe, and with another gesture, it shot upward—

Bang!

“Ah! It broke!” The control was off; the hoe rocketed upward, colliding squarely with Feng Yuan’s crotch. He cried out in agony, clutching himself and collapsing to the ground. Hearing the commotion, Hu Xiao rushed out from inside.

“Master, master, what’s wrong?” Hu Xiao anxiously supported Feng Yuan.

“I’m… fine. Just a little accident. Don’t worry about me; go about your business, I’ll be alright soon,” Feng Yuan gritted his teeth, his face pale.

“How can I leave you? Did you hurt yourself? Let me massage it for you, you’ll feel better quickly!” Hu Xiao said, reaching toward Feng Yuan’s trousers.

“No! No, I’m fine!”

“Please, master, I promise, a little massage and you’ll be good as new!”

“No, absolutely not!”

“Why not?” Hu Xiao asked, puzzled.

“This place is… important, it can’t be massaged. Just like your chest—I can’t massage it, you understand?”

“If master likes my chest, he can massage it anytime. I don’t mind at all!” Hu Xiao replied, blushing.

Pfft!

“Excuse me, veteran, I must take my leave…” Feng Yuan, still clutching himself, darted into the house and slammed the door behind him.

“Why did master run away? Does he dislike me because I’m small? But I’m like a young cow… Or maybe he doesn’t like women, but prefers men?” Hu Xiao glanced at her chest, then at the house, lost in confusion.

…

After dinner and a brief rest, night had fallen. Feng Yuan and Hu Xiao stepped out, preparing to head to the Sage’s Temple atop the mountain.

Just outside, they encountered Feng Ergou, leading two oxen back from behind the village. Seeing Feng Yuan, Ergou grinned broadly and said, “There’s a monster up the mountain, a monster up the mountain! Don’t go, don’t go.” With that, he led his oxen to the nearby barn, barely thirty or fifty meters away.

Feng Yuan frowned, recalling that the last time he’d met Ergou, he’d warned him about a female ghost trailing him. Later, it turned out that Lan Qirou had indeed followed him. Now, with trouble at the temple, Ergou’s words seemed prophetic. It appeared Ergou could see things others could not.

“Feng Yuan, Feng Yuan!” As he pondered this, a familiar shout came from behind. Feng Yuan shuddered and turned. Two figures approached—none other than Feng Changshun and Feng Hanyun, both recently deceased, yet somehow walking about.

They looked no different from the living, nothing like the decaying corpses he’d seen in their coffins during the day. How was this possible? If this technique were brought back to China, women would be delighted—eternal youth!

Beside him, Hu Xiao’s eyes lit up as she watched the two approach. She said, “They are indeed dead, but something inside them has made them appear alive. Ordinary people would never notice.”

“What is it?” Feng Yuan asked.

“I don’t know. It’s in their stomachs,” Hu Xiao replied.

As they spoke, Feng Changshun and Feng Hanyun reached them. A strong stench of decay wafted over—Feng Yuan recognized the smell from the coffins earlier, faint yesterday but overwhelming now. The evil spirit had made them appear human, but could not mask the reek of death.

Yesterday, unaware they were dead, Feng Yuan hadn’t minded. Now, standing face-to-face with two corpses, he felt nauseated.

“Feng Yuan, we were just on our way to invite you to attend the lecture at the Sage’s Temple. Come along!” Feng Changshun greeted him warmly, reaching to take his hand, Hanyun doing likewise.

Feng Yuan dodged, replying, “Teacher, Hanyun, please go ahead. I’ll follow behind—no trouble at all!”

“Very well, let’s hurry, or we’ll lose our seats!” With that, the two walked ahead.

“Stick to the plan,” Feng Yuan said quietly to Hu Xiao, then followed after. Hu Xiao kept a distance behind.