Chapter 78: Doubt

In his dream, he once again found himself in the picturesque Fuling Valley, where the mountains were clear and the waters pure.

“This time I got lucky—came here straight away. It's never easy to visit this place,” Chang Yu remarked as he looked around, unable to hold back a sigh of admiration.

“What are you mumbling about?” Master Hao’er arrived, stepping gracefully on clouds drifting at the edge of the sky.

It seemed he could always foresee Chang Yu’s arrival, always greeting him promptly as if by magic.

Wasn’t it extraordinary?

“Master, I want to ask you something,” Chang Yu fixed Hao’er with a burning gaze. “Do you know how to treat infertility?”

Master Hao’er was so startled by the question that he nearly lost his balance on the cloud, tumbling straight to the ground.

He regarded Chang Yu deeply, as if he were seeing him for the first time, and that unwavering stare made Chang Yu uneasy.

“My good disciple, that’s right—there’s nothing you can’t ask your master,” Hao’er said gravely, stroking his goatee. “If you’ve discovered an illness, then we must treat it as soon as possible. Don’t let the cure be delayed.”

“Come, let me take your pulse and see what kind of infertility you’re dealing with.”

“Master!” Chang Yu half-laughed, half-cried, quickly pushing away Hao’er’s hand as it reached for his wrist.

“It’s not me who’s sick, it’s a friend of mine, so please don’t misunderstand,” Chang Yu explained at lightning speed, terrified that Hao’er would get the wrong idea.

A friend of mine?

That sounded awfully familiar. Wasn’t that what people always say when asking about something embarrassing?

“Really?” Hao’er was clearly skeptical.

“As true as pure gold!” Chang Yu insisted, but the more earnest he seemed, the less believable he appeared.

Hao’er grabbed Chang Yu’s wrist. “Let me check anyway.”

“Just accept my examination. If you’ve nothing to hide, why fear a check-up?”

“I wouldn’t want a moment’s negligence to ruin your lifelong happiness—and leave me with no grand-disciples to hold.”

That soul-searching question froze Chang Yu’s protesting hand in midair.

Well, with words like that, if he refused a thorough examination, wouldn't it only confirm that something was wrong with him?

A man's pride made him surrender.

He watched silently as Hao’er placed his fingers on his wrist, barely daring to breathe.

He feared the old man would suddenly flush with excitement and shout, “Disciple, congratulations, you’re pregnant!”

Time ticked by, and after what felt like ages, Hao’er finally relaxed and let out a relieved breath.

He released Chang Yu’s wrist and beamed, “I’ve checked. Your body is perfectly healthy.”

For reasons he couldn’t quite explain, Chang Yu quietly sighed in relief at the definitive answer.

Truth be told, when Hao’er insisted on examining him, Chang Yu had been quite nervous.

He wondered, what if he had the same problem as Fat Wang?

After all, he’d spent most of his life in an orphanage, never undergoing such a check-up—it was hard to say.

Fortunately, his health was normal.

“You truly came to ask for your friend?” Hao’er stroked his goatee, looking every bit the sage.

“Master, surely you believe me now?” Chang Yu grinned.

“I suppose your friend is a mortal?” Hao’er smiled knowingly, as if all was within his grasp.

“You’re right! How did you guess?” Chang Yu was astonished.

“Because those who cultivate are generally vigorous and energetic. Such issues are rare among us,” Hao’er replied proudly. “Perhaps for mortal medicine, fertility problems are difficult to solve. But with our immortal methods, it’s not hard.”

“How do you solve it?” Chang Yu listened intently, eager for instruction.

“Just find a spiritual elixir imbued with the essence of heaven and earth, the radiance of the sun and moon, rich with vitality. Have the patient take it, and the problem will be cured.”

Though Hao’er’s words sounded complex, Chang Yu summed it up simply: If you’re sick, treat it! How do you treat it? Take medicine!

Of course, the medicine here wasn’t ordinary; it had to be a treasure brimming with life force.

“Master!” Chang Yu grabbed Hao’er’s sleeve, looking at him pitifully. “My cultivation is still young, I have no savings at all. Where am I to find such spiritual elixirs for my friend?”

“Couldn’t you, out of kindness, grant your disciple some wondrous pills to save my friend?”

“Fine!” Hao’er frowned, thinking for a moment. “Since you ask, there’s no reason for me to refuse.”

“Go to my medicine room. On the shelf with the spiritual medicines, the large gourd on the third row at the edge contains what you need.”

“Once your friend takes the medicine inside the gourd, the illness will be cured. But remember—don’t let him take it all at once.”

“He is but a mortal, unable to withstand such potent medicine. If you don’t want him to explode from the force, best divide it into ten doses.”

“Master, aren’t you coming with me?” Chang Yu asked, puzzled.

“I still have matters to attend to, and must leave for several days. Just fetch it yourself,” Hao’er replied, smiling.

The moment Hao’er said he was going out, Chang Yu’s first thought was that his cheap master must be off to duel someone again.

What if something happened?

Isn’t that what novels always write—after countless hardships, the protagonist finally finds a worthy master, only for the master to perish in some duel, leaving the hero to suffer anew?

Ah, this...

“Is... something the matter?” he asked cautiously.

“Oh, nothing serious.” At this, Hao’er’s face was aglow, his eyes brimming with joy.

“An old friend invited me to his cave for a drink. This time, he’s prepared a thousand-year-old peach blossom wine.”

“You know, thousand-year-old peach blossom wine is a rare treasure. I must taste it properly.”

“If I’m late, the other old fellows will drink it all, and that would be a great loss.”

“No more talk. Good disciple, you stay here and watch over the valley. I’ll be on my way!”

With that, Hao’er hurriedly waved his sleeve.

A radiant cloud rose beneath his feet, carrying him into the sky, and he vanished in the blink of an eye.

“So urgent,” Chang Yu muttered as he watched Hao’er’s departing silhouette, unsure what to say.

“Seems Master is quite fond of wine. Next time I come, I should bring some for him.”

“Perhaps mortal wine can’t compare to thousand-year-old peach blossom wine, but at least it would be a token of my gratitude,” he mused, making his way deeper into the valley.

Mist drifted through the valley, immortal birds flocked and soared, and countless spiritual flowers bloomed in vivid hues.

In the distance, three thatched huts stood beside a medicinal garden. Though simple, they had the air of a hidden paradise.

“Which one is the medicine room?” Chang Yu wondered as he stood by the huts.

“It’s certainly not the one in the center—that houses the ancestral tablets.”

Since Chang Yu had been inside that hut before, he quickly ruled it out.

He entered the hut on the left and found a wooden bed, a table, several chairs, and some scattered daily items—teacups, bedding, and the like.

Overall, it felt quite humble, likely Hao’er’s living quarters.

Leaving it, he turned to the hut on the right.

With only three huts and the first two excluded, the last must be the medicine room Hao’er spoke of.

Sure enough, as soon as he opened the door, a rich medicinal fragrance washed over him.

After only a few breaths, Chang Yu felt refreshed, his steps lighter.

The room wasn’t large. At the center stood a cauldron, reminiscent of a bronzeware used for sacrifices in the Shang and Zhou dynasties.

Yet this one was smaller, not bronze, but made from some unknown substance shining with golden light.

“This must be Master’s pill cauldron,” Chang Yu guessed, inhaling the strong aroma emanating from it.

Many immortal dramas and novels describe these pill cauldrons in detail, so it wasn’t surprising he recognized it.

He walked straight to the deepest shelf, where a dazzling array of jars and bottles greeted him—some jade, some stone, large and small, all sorts.

Recalling Hao’er’s instructions, Chang Yu quickly looked to the third row.

“The large gourd at the edge of the third row.”

He repeated the phrase as he searched, and sure enough, a bright, large gourd sat on the far left.

He grabbed it and shook it; a dull thumping came from within.

“Seems this is the medicine I need,” he thought.

Just as he was about to leave with the gourd, his gaze caught the far right of the shelf.

Suddenly, his feet felt rooted, unable to move.

There, on the far right, sat another bright, large gourd—identical to the one in his hand.

Chang Yu was utterly bewildered.

He looked from the gourd in his hand to the one on the shelf, then fell into deep silence.

“I remember Master said before leaving—the gourd at the edge of the third row contains the medicine for me…”

“But he never specified whether it was the gourd on the left or the one on the right!”