CHAPTER 194: CHAPTER 117: TONGUE-PRESSING GRASS, HUNTER

Yesterday’s rain was new, and the morning fog had not dissipated.

Xu Qing walked on the wet stone pavement of Underground Street.

Occasionally, water droplets trickled from the eaves of the coffin shop at the street corner.

The early-rising Hu Baosong had barely sipped his hot porridge when he saw the young man walk into the shop.

The young man wore a brand-new blue-collared white robe, looking flamboyant like a peacock opening its feathers. Someone might mistake him for a nobleman’s son coming for a walk after the rain!

Yizhen, who was sitting at the table sipping rice porridge, glanced up at Xu Qing, and then couldn’t help but take another look.

Clothes make the man, just like gold adorns Buddha.

The Corpse Driver, who usually wore gray robes stained with grime in the Funeral Shop, now suddenly transformed into a fair-skinned scholar. Anyone would take a few more glances.

Hu Baosong turned his head to see his eldest daughter putting down the bowl and chopsticks to serve porridge to Xu Qing, and he felt a twinge of irritation in his heart.

"Xu Kid, what’s the deal with you deliberately dressing like this just to come here?"

Xu Qing spread his arms and spun around, his straight collar, tight waist, and flowing wide sleeves made a dashing and crisp appearance.

"Old Hu, at least I’m a scholar by origin, half a learned man, so why can’t I wear these clothes?"

Besides, it took the ghost woman quite an effort to make such a fitting outfit, weaving at her loom and sewing diligently. Shouldn’t he wear it then?

"Don’t give me that nonsense, why have I never seen you wear this before?" Watching Xu Qing spinning around and showing off, Hu Baosong felt inexplicably annoyed.

While the two were bickering, Yizhen came out of the kitchen with a bowl of hot porridge.

"Junior Brother, you probably haven’t had breakfast yet. Fortunately, I cooked some fish porridge..."

In the coffin shop, which usually smelled of sandalwood mixed with the damp, moldy scent of old coffins, the aroma of the fragrant hot porridge instantly dispelled those stale odors.

Unfortunately, Xu Qing hadn’t yet surpassed the Wandering Corpse stage and had many food taboos, unable to enjoy such delicacies.

For if he consumed it, he would have to vomit it all out immediately.

"Geez, it’s quite hot. I’ll take it back to eat."

Holding the white porcelain bowl filled with chunks of pomfret, wild mushrooms, and other side ingredients, Xu Qing sighed wistfully. Fish porridge from river-rich areas was always something he hadn’t had the chance to taste since coming to Linhe.

Now, he had another reason to persist in his cultivation: to taste a bowl of hot fish porridge as soon as possible.

With the porridge in hand, Xu Qing turned back to the Funeral Shop.

The porridge made with pomfret was just right to feed the cat.

Upon arriving at his own shop, he hadn’t even stepped inside when he heard a loud commotion from within.

Xu Qing, carrying the hot porcelain bowl, crossed the threshold and looked inside.

He saw a shiny yellow weasel being chased around by a red-combed golden chicken. The weasel’s bald tail flailing on the floor like a plump worm, attracting the chicken’s eager gaze.

Xuan Yu, possessing Sun Erniang, was leaning against the counter with one hand on her cheek, playing with two walnuts in the other hand, watching the golden chicken pecking the weasel with great interest.

Seeing Xu Qing enter, Xuan Yu quickly stood up and slapped the table, looking like a stern schoolmistress catching students fighting in class.

Ignoring the fussing animals, Xu Qing’s gaze fell on a newly appeared thin-skinned coffin in the shop.

The coffin still had fresh soil clinging to it, as if it had been recently dug from a grave.

Xu Qing circled the coffin nonchalantly and placed the fish porridge on the counter, causing Xuan Yu’s stern expression to dissolve instantly at the aroma.

"It smells so good!"

Black demonic energy emanated from Sun Erniang’s body, and as the lingering black mist settled on the counter, Xuan Yu’s true form manifested.

"Fish porridge, huh? This is a rare delicacy. Xuan Yu Immortal Family should taste it while it’s hot."

"It’s a bit hot." Xuan Yu took a small sip and stuck out her pink tongue.

Upon hearing this, Xu Qing extended his cold hand, gently stroking the bowl, cooling the hot porridge to a suitable temperature.

"Delicious, has Xu Immortal Family tried it yet?"

Xu Qing nodded with a smile.

"Ahem, I was in such a hurry that I haven’t had a meal yet," a voice interrupted inappropriately. Xu Qing turned to see the hungry old Huang Weasel.

"Hmm? Daoist Huang, when did you get here? Why didn’t you inform me?"

"..."

Thinking Xu Qing was upset about his fight with the Golden Simurgh, Huang Weasel offered a dry laugh, "Daoist Xu, it seems you have a lot on your mind. I came here two days ago because you wanted the hunter’s corpse, so I hurried back to Xijing Mountain, and brought it here after digging it up overnight."

Finally, Huang Weasel added, "Is my Wolf Hair Brush, Daoist Xu, still of use to you?"

Xu Qing suddenly laughed, "I remember now!"

"It’s about Elder Immortal Huang asking my Cat Immortal Hall for help, right? How could I forget that?"

Xu Qing walked over to the thin-skinned coffin, subconsciously using the Qi Observation Skill, but found nothing unusual.

Opening the coffin, a strong smell of smoke and charred wood rushed out, overpowering the sandalwood scent in the Funeral Shop.

Xu Qing frowned slightly; the corpse hadn’t been dressed in burial clothes but still wore its lifetime attire.

Judging by the clothes, they seemed to be made of some kind of animal skin.

Following the procedure for examining a body, Xu Qing scrutinized it carefully.

The body had no external injuries, except for a smoky mark around the eyes.

Opening the corpse’s mouth, Xu Qing found something unusual.

There was a seed with sprouting roots embedded in the hunter’s tongue.

Xu Qing tried to remove the seed, but the roots under the seed were intertwined like a ball of yarn, the more he pulled, the more it stretched.

"Daoist, do you recognize this?"

Seeing it, Huang Weasel instantly recoiled in fear, "Take it away! Quickly! Don’t let that unlucky thing touch me!"

Xu Qing glanced at the terrified Huang Weasel and then at the hairy mass in his hand.

Thinking, what’s so scary about this?

"It’s Tongue-pressing Grass; no wonder this hunter clung to life." Xu Qing remarked.

"What is Tongue-pressing Grass?"

Huang Weasel said warily, "It’s an anomaly in the forest. The grass tastes sweet and gives strength if eaten, but if someone swallows its seed, the seed will root in the person’s tongue and grow by consuming their blood."

"Those who swallow the seed, whether humans or yellow weasels, won’t notice anything unusual at first. By the time it’s discovered, death is near. If the grass isn’t extracted, one might live a few more days, but if extracted..."

Xu Qing, holding the large mass of roots he had extracted, asked reflexively, "What happens if it’s extracted?"

"Immediate death!"

"..."

Xu Qing clicked his tongue. This thing might be taboo for others, but it poses no threat to him.

He fetched a lamp, and as the grass touched the flame, it writhed and struggled.

Fire conquers wood, and Tongue-pressing Grass fears fire.

In moments, the grass turned into a small pile of black ash.

After dealing with the sinister grass, Xu Qing turned back to the hunter’s quiet body.

With outsiders present, direct exorcism wasn’t appropriate. After thinking for a moment, Xu Qing lit three incense sticks, placed them near the hunter’s head, and summoned the Golden Simurgh as an assistant, performing a solemn Assist Soldier Spell.

Unfamiliar with the ritual, Huang Weasel watched in awe and then respectfully asked, "May I ask Daoist Xu, what kind of ritual is this?"

Xu Qing replied, "It’s the Walking in the Underworld Spell, with the Golden Chicken to lead and Spirit Incense to guide the way. It illuminates the Netherworld path for the deceased, preventing them from becoming lost souls wandering the living world."

Huang Weasel, seeing Xu Qing’s serious demeanor, felt a deep respect, thinking, "The Cat Immortal Hall is truly extraordinary, and Sect Leader Xu is well-versed in numerous disciplines."

Completing the complex ritual, Xu Qing touched the corpse, and the hunter’s soul lantern appeared.

The hunter was no ordinary hunter but a Mountain Driver of Yanjing Mountain.

Mountain Drivers were familiar with forest geography, able to navigate deep valleys and steep cliffs, always finding paths through the forests and gathering forest treasures or catching wildlife.

This skill was known as the Mountain Driving Technique.

The hunter had learned bow hunting and mountain driving from a young age, growing into a tall and strong boy by eight or nine and capable of hunting geese alone by ten.

However, not long after mastering goose hunting, his father disappeared in the deep forest, never to return.

The forest offered countless blessings but also countless dangers.

Getting lost or perishing in the wilderness was a risk every Mountain Driver faced. The hunter didn’t give up mountain driving because of his father’s disappearance.

Supported by villagers, the hunter often traded game or forest treasures for rice and supplies.

Life went on, and the hunter grew from a boy into a young man, later marrying a farmer’s daughter and leading a life of hunting and weaving.

Until one day, disaster struck the village.

From the village head to the end, six households’ children disappeared at night, and the parents knew nothing.

Some light sleepers vaguely heard sheep bleating in the village at night.

As villagers sought answers, they found other villages nearby and across the mountain also had missing children, with sheep sounds heard at night.

Most villages revered guardian spirits of different kinds, whether White, Yellow, Hu, or Liu.

With the mysterious events beyond the authorities’ reach, villagers began asking their guardian spirits for help.

Unbeknownst to others, the hunter knew these guardian spirits were often lowly beings or empty shrines with mere wooden plaques or carvings.

The hunter kept a close eye on developments. Some villages with real guardian spirits found a dead snake at their entrance the next morning.

In others, after requesting help, the guardian spirits quietly left their shrines overnight.

Only the hunter’s village’s Yellow Immortal Hall remained unmoved.

One day, the hunter stood before the shrine, watching for a long time, finally shaking his head and returning home.

His wife was already pregnant.

Thinking of the distressed parents of the missing children, the hunter felt a deep empathy.

Contemplating the entire night, the hunter decided not to rely on the villagers or guardian spirits. He took his hunting bow and ventured into the forest.