FVN Chapter 97 Corpse Demon Forest
Chapter 97 Corpse Demon Forest
"A single Guiyuan ginseng must be over a hundred years old."
The one-eyed old man put down the copper scale, his cloudy yellow eye swept under the counter, bent down and pulled out an oil paper package. He peeled off the layers and found a human-shaped old ginseng inside. Its roots were intact, its whole body was black, and its skin had an oily sheen.
"A ginseng that is over 500 years old and a longevity pill that is 30 years old, are priced the same."
Song Quyou stepped forward and examined it; the Guiyuan ginseng was indeed of excellent quality.
"Sir, is this to your liking?"
Song Quyou first took out twenty longevity pills and placed them on the counter. Then he took out a somewhat shrunken money bag, poured out the remaining ten longevity pills, and handed them to the shopkeeper.
The one-eyed old man reached out and swept them all into the drawer, then pushed the oil paper package forward.
……
After buying the medicine, I returned to the Meishan courtyard.
The courtyard gate was pushed open, and several paper figures were leaning against the wall, dozing off. When they saw Song Quyou return, they hurriedly got up and made hand gestures.
The lark emerged from the pot and looked at the two bluish-green figures, saying, "They're saying that no one has come to collect the medicine today."
Song Quyou returned to the courtyard, placed the oil paper package on the table, and took out the dark green soul core.
The flying sword in the sword box hurriedly flew out, circling around Song Quyou, its blade flashing with clear light and emitting an urgent buzzing sound, just like a fledgling bird begging for food.
The lark chuckled, "Look at how greedy it is, the sword light is dripping down like drool."
Song Quyou reached out and gathered the soul core into his palm. The flying sword immediately let out a low, disappointed groan, and the tip of the sword drooped down, swaying listlessly in mid-air.
Song Quyou stopped teasing it and gently tossed the soul core in his hand. The flying sword caught the soul core, crushed it, and swallowed it into the sword, humming and vibrating in the air.
Russian.
The light shone brightly, and the flying sword transformed into a winding stream, stretching out like a transparent ribbon and enveloping the entire courtyard.
The clear light spread across the entire courtyard, like a spring river overflowing its banks, dripping from the eaves, rising from the base of the walls, and flowing slowly around the fence.
Yun Que looked up at the flowing sword light filling the courtyard, her red lips slightly parted, and then closed them after a long while.
"How...how did it become like this?"
As Song Quyou watched the flowing sword light, he reached out his hand, and the winding stream intimately circled around him. The cool sword light brushed against his skin, no longer sharp, but gentle.
"It ate the soul core of that wicked boar, and the sword light increased even more."
What started as a small stream has now grown into a small river. Given more time, it might truly grow to the size of a river, just as I predicted.
The lark circled the clear light twice, clicking its tongue in amazement: "If that's the case, the little thing is easy to raise; it grows tall as long as you feed it."
The clear light flowed through the courtyard for a full quarter of an hour before gradually receding. The flying sword materialized from the river of light, circled Song Quyou several times, and then contentedly returned to its scabbard, emitting a long, resonant hum.
He opened the oil paper package and took out the five-hundred-year-old Guiyuan ginseng. Its tendrils were distinct, black and shiny, like an old child covered in wrinkles.
"I'm going to cultivate in the Heavenly Pot. Let these little paper figures continue to watch over the courtyard."
Song Quyou picked up the Guiyuan Ginseng, went inside, and took a small, plain white porcelain bottle from the square table. The bottle contained half a bottle of milky white spiritual liquid, which was the Lingyu Milk that he had exchanged for ten Longevity Pills from the market a few days ago. He was going to take it together with the Guiyuan Ginseng.
This prescription was given by Mei Yingxue.
He took the two medicines into the Pot Heaven, sat cross-legged under the ancient and wondrous pine tree, placed the Guiyuan Ginseng on his lap, held the bottle in his left hand, and made a Qi incantation with his right hand.
With his left hand, he channeled his Qi to the porcelain bottle. The spiritual liquid inside the bottle, guided by the incantation, transformed into a thin stream that rose into the air, circled the Guiyuan Ginseng three times, and slowly seeped into the ginseng.
The dark ginseng skin, upon encountering the spiritual liquid, shimmered with a faint golden light, and its roots trembled slightly, as if it had come alive. Song Quyou closed his eyes and concentrated, his internal energy slowly flowing along the meridian pathways of the Nine Heavens Sword Technique.
The ginseng root on his knee gradually withered, its dark skin cracking inch by inch, and wisps of golden-blue medicinal aroma oozing out from the cracks, seeping into his body through his mouth and nose.
The moment the medicine entered his body, Song Quyou felt a jolt, as if his entire body was being cooked by a raging fire. His lower dantian bulged and surged, as if thousands of streams were rushing towards a narrow passage at the same time.
Song Quyou gritted his teeth, his hands forming a mudra. His whole body was stretched and aching, as if countless small snakes were crawling under his skin, causing soreness, numbness, and swelling wherever they passed.
The ginseng root on his lap withered visibly, but its golden-blue medicinal aura grew stronger, swirling into a thin vortex that flowed into Song Quyou's mouth and nose, continuously transforming into dark essence that surged into his lower dantian.
The lower dantian's Qi sea churned violently, and countless dark Qi surged even more fiercely, like rivers flowing backward, pouring into the dark ink Qi sea.
Just then, the ginseng on his lap turned to dust, and the last wisp of golden-green medicinal energy entered his body.
The dark blue sea of qi in the lower dantian suddenly contracted, condensing into a ball of light the size of a pigeon egg, spinning rapidly, becoming more solid with each rotation.
Song Quyou sat cross-legged, his body surging with qi. The ball of light in his lower dantian spun more and more rapidly until a black bud rose up, passed through the meridians through the Huangting (Yellow Court), and bloomed into a black flower with three golden petals in the Niwan Palace. It floated in the Niwan Palace with the qi flower.
……
Within the pot, the ancient pine tree swayed gently, and the jujube tree shimmered. Song Quyou suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze flashing with a sharp light. The lush jujube tree in front of him darkened, the ancient pine tree behind him trembled, and the meadow on the ground bent over.
The lark was squatting by the pool, chewing on a jujube with its cheeks puffed out. Startled by the noise, the jujube pit got stuck in its throat, and it coughed several times before spitting it out.
Song Quyou stretched his muscles and bones in the pot-shaped heaven, and the flower of essence began to form. His body's energy was three times longer than usual.
A lark with slightly flushed cheeks walked over, holding half a date, and stared at Song Quyou's eyes for a long time: "Why are your eyes like lanterns, so bright they're unsettling."
"Your vital energy is fully concentrated and overflowing, and your eyes are clear. You will recover in a few days."
During the conversation, Yun Que handed over a golden longevity pill, which Song Quyou skillfully swallowed. This special longevity pill would allow Song Quyou to live a worry-free year in the underworld.
……
A few days later, Song Quyou completely stabilized his Qi and took the opportunity to write some calming talismans.
Because he was short of money for cultivation, he had no choice but to go to the Corpse Demon Forest to find the true name of the Corpse Devouring Spirit, a demon soul that heaven and earth could not accept and was difficult to kill.
Song Quyou put the Qingxin talisman into his sleeve, slung the sword box over his shoulder, took the Qingfeng sword, pushed open the courtyard gate, and headed north.
Corpse Demon Forest is located fifty miles north of Qin Gu Fang. It is a forest of withered old locust trees with twisted trunks like struggling corpses and intertwined branches that block out the sky, completely obscuring the dim moon.
Song Quyou posted a talisman to ward off miasma, drew his sword, and stepped into the forest. The fallen leaves underfoot were a foot thick, making them feel soft and spongy.
The surroundings were eerily quiet; there were no chirping insects or rustling winds, only the sound of crunching dry leaves underfoot, which carried far through the forest.
After walking for the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, fog suddenly rose ahead.
The grayish-white mist drifted over the ground, carrying a scent of rouge that shouldn't be in the desolate wilderness, which, if inhaled for too long, made one feel drowsy.
Song Quyou then took out a purifying talisman from his sleeve and silently recited the purifying mantra: "Supreme Lord Taixing, responding without ceasing. Expelling evil and binding demons, protecting life and body. Wisdom clear and bright, mind at peace..."
The calming talisman was placed on the chest. The talisman ignited upon contact with Qi, turning into a wisp of coolness that entered the mind, instantly clearing the head.
The fog grew thicker, the shadows of the trees twisted and distorted in the fog, and faint whispers drifted from all directions.
The sound seemed to be through a thick layer of water, indistinct yet somehow penetrating the ear.
Song Quyou listened intently and managed to discern a few fragmented sentences.
"Song Lang...Song Lang..."
Song Quyou frowned, ignored him, gripped the long sword at his waist tightly with his right hand, and continued forward.
The fog grew thicker and thicker, almost solidifying, accompanied by a strong scent of rouge. It was like some ignorant child who had mixed his mother's rouge powder with some water to make a paste and smeared it on his face, making it hard to breathe and suffocating people.
"Song Lang...Song Lang..."
The voice was much clearer this time, coming from directly in front, soft and melodious, with a gentle and charming quality that made one's bones melt.
Song Quyou did not respond and continued walking. The suffocating white fog suddenly dissipated, and the intermittent, soft, thick sound became completely clear, sounding like someone breathing against his ear.
"Song Lang, you've finally arrived..."
Stepping out of the thick fog, Song Quyou stood with his hand on his sword. He saw a woman in white sitting under a leaning ancient locust tree in front of him.
She had her back to him, her long hair hanging to the ground, her shoulders trembling slightly as if she were sobbing.
The woman slowly turned around.
Her face was exceptionally beautiful, with exquisitely drawn eyebrows and eyes, skin as white as snow, and an incomparably charming appearance. Two lines of clear tears clung to her cheeks, making her look pitiful. She wore a simple white gauze dress, the collar slightly open, revealing half of her collarbone, which was as white and smooth as jade.
Song Quyou's gaze fell on her face, his expression indifferent and unmoving.
The woman, her eyes brimming with tears, gazed longingly at Song Quyou: "Don't you remember me, my love? I've been with you for over a hundred years, searching for you in this Forest of Corpses."
As she spoke, she stood up, her plain white dress trailing on the ground as she walked, each step silently pattering on the fallen leaves.
A faint glint appeared in Song Quyou's eyes as he looked at her feet, which had landed silently. Her feet had changed from smooth, jade-like to solidified pink mist, drifting close to the ground.
She stopped three steps away from Song Quyou, looked up, and her eyes were filled with indescribable sorrow and lingering affection.
Song Quyou chuckled inwardly and walked slowly forward.
Seeing his actions, the woman's eyes welled up with tears, and she gently raised her hand, wanting to climb onto his neck.
Song Quyou stepped to the side, just avoiding the hand, but continued walking, going straight past her and towards the leaning ancient locust tree.
The woman paused slightly, her movements stiffened, but she quickly changed to a charming demeanor, lifted her skirt, and followed.
Song Quyou circled the ancient locust tree twice, then squatted down and used his sword sheath to pry open the gnarled roots, but found no trace of them.
Song Quyou rose in confusion and looked around carefully, but found no other trace. Finally, he sighed softly, looked down at the beautiful woman before him, and said against his will:
"My wife, after you left, I missed you every day and couldn't eat. I followed you long ago, but in this underworld, I've wandered for over a hundred years and still can't find you. I've been searching so hard for you!"
Upon hearing this, the woman's tears rolled down even more rapidly, and she said in a trembling voice:
"My love, I have waited for you in this forest day and night, never leaving, my heart is breaking with longing..."
Song Quyou's affection remained unchanged: "I have been wandering outside for over a hundred years, blown by the cold wind and chased by evil spirits. I had almost forgotten what my wife looked like. It is truly a blessing to see you again today."
Hearing his heartfelt words, the woman suddenly hugged Song Quyou tightly around the waist, sobbing intermittently:
"Song Lang, you've suffered... I'm all alone here, so lonely and so afraid."
When Song Quyou saw the woman embracing him, although she was gentle and alluring, he couldn't shake off the feeling of disgust he felt.
He frowned and said, "My wife, I've been out in the cold for too long, and my memory is a bit hazy. Tell me your maiden name so I can remember a thing or two."
The woman paused, her eyes blurry with tears, and looked up at Song Quyou with a look that seemed both reproachful and resentful. She then said softly:
"Song Lang, have you really forgotten? My maiden name is Heng Niang, Heng as in 'Heng Zhi Qing Fen' (fragrant and pure fragrance of herbs)."
Upon hearing this, Song Quyou tentatively called out:
"Hengniang!"
The woman in front of him did not react at all.
"Song Lang..."
The woman was shy and affectionate, her autumn eyes gently closed, and her lips, glistening like honey, slightly upturned.
Song Quyou certainly knew what this matter meant, but what he was thinking now was that this spirit was really good at making things up, and had even given a false name.
"Hengniang".
Song Quyou gently interrupted the woman's attempt to kiss him.
"My lady, you've lived alone in this forest for so long, have you left any belongings so that I can remember you?"
The spirit lifted her face from his embrace, her tear stains still wet, and blossomed into an incomparably beautiful smile:
"If you don't mention it, I've forgotten something. It's the token of our love from back then, but it's too precious, so I didn't bring it with me and left it at my residence."
Song Quyou was lost in thought.
The woman's eyes flickered, and seeing Song Quyou's dazed expression, she released her hand from his waist, instead taking his arm, and softly pressed herself against him.
"Song Lang, come with me."
She led Song Quyou deeper into the locust grove. After walking about a hundred paces, a wooden house appeared ahead, with two white lanterns hanging under the eaves, their lights flickering dimly.
Pushing open the door, the room was furnished no differently from a typical boudoir, with brocade quilts and embroidered pillows, a dressing table and a bronze mirror, and a half-cup of leftover tea on the table.
The woman pressed him down to sit, then leaned against the table, her slender fingers twirling a strand of her hair as she gazed at him with tender affection.
"My lord Song, I have prepared some light wine."
She turned around and took out a pot of wine and two porcelain cups from under the table, filled them, and pushed them in front of him.
The wine was emerald green in color and had a pleasant, fragrant aroma; it didn't smell like a poison.
But in Song Quyou's eyes, which held a hidden glint of light, the emerald green wine turned into a thick, black oil.
Song Quyou remained calm, picked up his wine cup with a faint smile, was about to drink, then put the cup down again and said:
"My wife is so devoted to me, yet I can't remember anything from the past. It's truly heartbreaking. My wife, please take out that old item so that I can recall some memories."
Upon hearing this, the woman's eyes flickered slightly, then mist rose again, and she softly scolded, "Why are you in such a hurry, Song Lang? I've waited for you for so many years, can't I even have a drink with you first?"
"My lady, hurry..."
The woman rose coyly and shyly, and unexpectedly removed her thin clothes, revealing a patch of smooth, white skin.
Song Quyou frowned and asked, "What does this mean?"
"My love, the token of our love is my body."
As the spirit spoke, she gently raised her delicate hand and removed the last layer of her undergarment, revealing a naked body as smooth as jade.