Volume One: Menial Tasks in Changshui County Chapter Thirty-Six: Tempering the Body with Spiritual Herbs

When he arrived at his doorstep, Lu Jiuzhang had originally intended to glance over at Zhao Chan’er’s house. But with a single look, he saw that the main gate of Madam Zhao’s courtyard was tightly shut, an air of unwelcoming silence hanging over it.

Just a couple of days ago, when Lu Jiuzhang was off duty, Madam Zhao had greeted him warmly. Now, however, her attitude seemed to have cooled once more. Most likely, she had learned that Lu Jiuzhang had offended the local tyrant from the Zhang family and was eager to distance herself from any trouble.

Lu Jiuzhang shook his head with a wry smile and opened his own courtyard gate.

Perhaps it was the sound of the latch that alerted them, for from the window of the neighbor’s house, Zhao Chan’er poked out her little head. “Second Brother Lu, you’re back?”

“You wretched girl, who are you talking to out there?” came Madam Zhao’s sharp reprimand from inside. “He’s from the Demon-Slaying Bureau, he’s got powerful backers, but what about us? Who do we have to rely on? Always running about—why don’t you just run yourself to death while you’re at it?”

“And if you die, you won’t even know how it happened.”

Her harsh words poured out in a steady, unpleasant stream.

When Lu Jiuzhang’s elder brother died, Madam Zhao had little use for him. But after he joined the Demon-Slaying Bureau, he suddenly became a valued guest in her household. Now that he had crossed a powerful figure, she was eager to draw a clear line between them again.

Such fickleness was typical of common city folk. This was the way of the world, and Lu Jiuzhang could only enter his home with a bitter smile.

…

Following Zhou Cheng’s instructions, Lu Jiuzhang soaked a stalk of Nine Yang Grass in a large wooden tub filled with water. He then undressed and climbed into the tub to steep himself along with the herb.

At first, there was little sensation. But after a short while, as the spiritual herb infused the water, Lu Jiuzhang felt as if his whole body were being sliced by knives.

The spiritual energy from the herb surged through him, painfully scouring his flesh and bones. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself into a meditative state, circulating his cultivation technique with all his might as more and more energy gathered around him.

By the latter half of the night, the spiritual power in the herb was depleted. Lu Jiuzhang replaced it with a fresh stalk and continued to soak.

Perhaps he had grown accustomed to the torment, for the pain was less intense with the second stalk, though the effects were somewhat diminished as well.

Not until dawn did Lu Jiuzhang finally emerge from his cultivation. Unlike the clarity and refreshment he usually felt after meditation, he was left utterly exhausted.

Dragging his heavy limbs, he washed and dressed, preparing to head for the Demon-Slaying Bureau.

He couldn’t practice in Zhou Cheng’s quarters today. Instead, he hoped to find a quiet corner at the office, perhaps catch a nap to restore some strength.

…

The small courtyard gate creaked shut behind him.

“Second Brother Lu, take care of yourself,” Zhao Chan’er called softly, peeking out through a crack in her own door. “Mother won’t let me out these days.”

“No matter. Stay home and listen to your mother!” Lu Jiuzhang waved it off, unbothered.

Why should he mind the opinions of humble townsfolk? If he solved his troubles, Madam Zhao would be all smiles again. If he failed and was killed, she would probably be glad they’d cut ties early.

But by then, Lu Jiuzhang wouldn’t be around to see it.

He wondered whether Zhao Chan’er would mourn him if he died. She probably would.

He hoped her innocence and kindness would not be worn away by time, turning her into the bitter woman her mother had become.

Enough of that. Lu Jiuzhang strode forward with purpose.

The sun had just risen, spilling golden light across the land. The streets bustled with people. Vendors hawked their wares, and the breakfast shops were filled with boisterous chatter.

This was the tapestry of the mortal world: everyone simply struggling to survive, scraping by on meager earnings to feed their families.

Their aspirations were likely for a steady job and a reliable income.

For Lu Jiuzhang, however, the challenge was to escape this den of wolves as soon as possible…

…

At the Demon-Slaying Bureau, Lu Jiuzhang ran into Zhou Cheng again. He half-suspected Zhou Cheng was waiting for him at the gate.

“Master Zhou!” he greeted, cupping his hands.

Zhou Cheng noticed the fatigue etched on Lu Jiuzhang’s face. “Used the spiritual herbs last night?”

“Yes, I used two stalks,” Lu Jiuzhang replied honestly.

“Impressive. Many can’t endure the agony of cleansing the body with spiritual herbs, but you persevered. That proves your path as a martial cultivator is the right one,” Zhou Cheng nodded approvingly.

“Master Zhou, I’ve heard people say I’m spreading myself too thin, that I should focus on the Way of the Scholar and not try to practice martial arts as well,” Lu Jiuzhang asked.

“Not necessarily—follow your heart,” Zhou Cheng said, untroubled. “Why shouldn’t the Way of the Scholar and martial arts be cultivated together? There’s truth in ‘one can be a jack of all trades but master of none,’ but there’s also value in drawing from many sources.”

“Throughout history, so many sayings are riddled with contradiction. For instance, a true man should rather die than submit, but others say a real man knows when to bend and when to stand tall. So which is it—bend or stand?”

“Some say better a shattered jade than an intact tile, while others insist that as long as the green hills remain, firewood will be plentiful. So sometimes, you needn’t overthink it—just do what feels right. You have plenty of time; wait until you reach my age and the road ahead is blocked, then worry about specializing.”

“Often, people are neither as foolish nor as clever as others imagine them to be,” Zhou Cheng concluded slowly.

Since meeting Zhou Cheng, Lu Jiuzhang found him quite approachable—nothing like what Wang Yunshan had described.

Lu Jiuzhang grinned. “Then, Master Zhou, do you think I’m foolish or clever?”

“Well…” Zhou Cheng was momentarily at a loss for words.

To be candid, he did not expect Lu Jiuzhang to achieve great heights in either the scholarly or martial path. If Lu Jiuzhang continued on both, he’d likely attain the ninth rank in each—enough to earn a transfer as demon-slayer to a county like Changshui. But if he focused solely on scholarly cultivation, he might never reach that position.

“No more of this. You should report to the office,” Zhou Cheng said. “If you wish to practice, you can use my study.”

With that, Zhou Cheng departed.

Lu Jiuzhang slowly made his way inside. In the office, Wang Yunshan was already throwing dice, likely desperate for money and hoping to win something from his colleagues. But judging by his frustrated scratching, he’d probably lost more than he’d gained.

Lu Jiuzhang had no interest in dice games. He found an empty spot in a corner, leaned back in his chair, and fell asleep—replenishing his energy and strength before anything else.

Though practicing in Zhou Cheng’s study was tempting, Lu Jiuzhang worried about gossip and the trouble it might cause. After all, as a newcomer to the Demon-Slaying Bureau, caution was still the wisest course.