At night, Qixia Town was not peaceful.
The afterglow of the battle during the day is still spreading, and all forces and people in the world are paying attention to the movements of both sides.
In a certain mansion, members of the new martial arts sect gathered together, and the atmosphere was dull and depressing.
"Okay, everyone is here. Let's talk about the injuries of the leaders of each faction first."
The "famous" Ding Huan, who was at the top with his sleeves rolled up neatly and spotlessly, put down his wine cup, looked around at everyone and spoke.
In the hall, sat the deputy heads of the "Four New Martial Arts Sects" and talkers from other small and medium-sized sects.
"Mr. Ding. Our four families are in similar situations."
The deputy head of the Tiancan Sect is a one-eyed blind man. At this time, his expression is sad and anxious:
"Then Chen Qingsheng's attack was really ruthless. Although the heads are not in danger of their lives, their injuries are not serious. This afternoon, the injuries were only temporarily suppressed and they were recuperating in seclusion. It is estimated that they will not be able to recover in a few months. "
Another Hell Gate talker also sighed:
"Originally, I thought that it would be worth it just to completely crush the old weapon, even if I had to pay some injuries. But who knew that the final result would be like this?"
The representatives of the Heaven and Earth Society and the Broken Blade Sect were also silent and worried.
Ding Huan saw the faces of a group of people and couldn't help but hate them for not fighting, and said angrily:
"What are they all doing? It's just that they lost one move. It's not completely over. Are they all crying?"
Someone smiled bitterly:
"Don't get angry, Mr. Ding, it's really..."
Ding Huan waved his hand and said coldly:
"There is no need to say anything unnecessary. We will discuss the next arrangements tonight. Although we lost this time, Chen Qingsheng was also seriously injured, and the conference is about to be held. We still have a chance. As long as we can win over the neutral camp, great things can be accomplished."
Everyone looked at each other.
I thought to myself that I had the advantage before, but it didn't work. It's really difficult to win over people in the current situation.
One person said:
"But during the day, each of our families tried to come to visit us. Although there are many sects in Qixia Town, there are only three or four that have enough prestige and have made strong statements...but they all closed their doors and thanked the guests."
Ding Huan squinted his eyes and said calmly:
"It doesn't matter. If we talk about the previous world, the neutral faction can still sit still, but don't forget what the theme of this alliance is."
"You mean...the Four Holy Religions?"
Ding Huan nodded and said in a deep voice:
"The Four Holy Sects have returned to the world, and everyone in the martial arts sects is in danger. Don't you think those neutral factions are impatient? Don't they want to quickly improve their cultivation and cope with the crisis? This is our opportunity. We must learn to use our brains in everything. Know how to take advantage of the general trend... Well, it's too late today, I will visit those companies in person tomorrow."
Everyone was overjoyed and thanked him one after another.
Ding Huan was unhappy. He didn't want to wade into the muddy water himself, but after joining the team today, he was tied to Xinwu and had no way out.
"Oh, I have been operating in the world for many years. No matter how unwilling they are, they still have to give me some face." Ding Huan stroked his beard, his tone full of confidence.
They are quite confident in persuading the neutralists.
…
…
And just when Xinwu was planning, Yaowang sent a garrison.
In the small courtyard, the night is quiet.
Short-haired disciples held candles, lit lanterns, hung them under the eaves, and waved cattail fans to drive away mosquitoes.
I couldn't help but look at the old doctor sitting at his desk in the room and muttered:
"Master, you always tell me not to use my eyes at night..."
Wearing a gray robe, an old doctor with a long beard, and smelling of herbal medicine, he read a broken ancient book with a candle, blowing his beard and staring when he heard the words:
"Is your skin itchy?"
The short-haired disciples huddled together, laughing and changing the subject:
"Master, you are studying the prescription of the 'Returning Yang Pill' again. But you have been thinking about it for many years. Could it be fake?"
In the arena, the old doctor known as the contemporary "King of Medicine" was silent for a moment, smoothed the ancient book with his wrinkled hands, and sighed:
"I have no idea."
"You don't know?" the former was surprised.
The old doctor looked sad and said:
"Everyone in the world knows that my 'Medicine King Sect' is good at curing diseases and refining medicines. Our classic book is the "Chang's Pharmacopoeia", but few people know about it. When it was handed down to me, only the first half was left. volume. The remaining volumes, which record many great medicines, are scattered in the Jianghu... Occasionally they are circulated, and the authenticity is difficult to distinguish. "
"In the past few decades, I have been practicing medicine for my teacher in various places, and I have also been collecting fragments in an attempt to complete this pharmacopoeia... This is my lifelong ambition. Over the years, I have indeed collected some, but because it is not systematic, much of the knowledge cannot be regarded as complete. It is also difficult to distinguish the authenticity of a teacher’s knowledge, and it is even more difficult to restore it.”
"Just like this 'Returning Yang Pill', it has been refined for more than a hundred furnaces, but it still cannot be made into a medicine. If one day, I die, you must remember to find what the ancestors left behind. If it can be refined, This great medicine, if you tell me about it in front of my grave, it will be in vain that I have raised you and taught you all these years."
The old doctor's voice was low and his tone was solemn.
The short-haired disciple's nose felt sore after hearing this, and he couldn't help but say:
"Master, I..."
Seeing him looking like he was about to cry, the old doctor couldn't help but glare:
"What do you look like as a grown man? Your master is not dead yet! Go! Go and turn on the furnace!"
"Oh." The former quickly ran to the yard, where he expertly set up a pot and stove and prepared medicinal materials.
After everything was arranged, the old doctor respectfully held the yellowed ancient scroll and walked to the hospital.
Using the light of the lamp, a wisp of blue flame entered, throwing in the medicinal materials one by one, and refining the medicine according to the elixir he tried to complete and deduced.
The young disciple squatted aside and concentrated on studying. For a moment, the atmosphere was quiet, forgetting everything.
The old doctor's expression became more serious, beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and there was anxiety in his eyes, as if he realized that this attempt would also fail.
At this moment, a light and soothing voice suddenly sounded in their ears:
"The spiritual fire will be reduced by 30%."
"Who?!" The short-haired disciple was startled and raised his head suddenly.
They were shocked to find that the courtyard door was still closed, but a young man wearing a Taoist green shirt with a sword hanging from his waist sneaked in at some point, came to the master and apprentice, and observed with his hands behind his back.
The face illuminated by the lights was peaceful, with a brow that did not change before the storm.
"It's you!"
He was startled at first, then recognized Ji Pingan, and his eyes lit up, as if he was seeing an idol.
But then, he remembered that his master must not be disturbed during the critical stage of refining the medicine, so he picked up the wooden stick:
"Retreat quickly, or I..."
"stop!"
Suddenly a sharp shout interrupted his movements. The short-haired disciple turned his head in shock and found that it was his master who was scolding him.
In front of the pot stove, the old doctor watched the flame color of the medicinal materials in the pot change after the fire was reduced by 30%.
On his face with ravines, a pair of eyes were shining brightly. He ignored the disciple and looked up at Ji Ping'an, as if he wanted to say something.
"Poria." Ji Ping'an said softly, "Three burns and three outs, only take the four fingers at the end."
The old doctor's expression changed, he was silent for a moment, waved his robe sleeves, took out the prepared medicinal materials, cooked them three times, and put them into the pot according to Ji Ping'an's instructions.
"It's a bit slow," Ji Ping'an commented:
"This process must be completed within five breaths, otherwise the potency of the medicine will be reduced by at least 20% after it is made into a medicine."
"Patent medicine?!"
An almost hoarse voice came out of the old doctor's throat, as if he didn't believe it:
"Can you make a medicine?"
Ji Pingan said calmly:
"If you continue to be so excited and cause the spiritual fire to become unstable, you may not be able to succeed."
The old doctor immediately behaved like a student, focusing on fire control, and then listened to Ji Ping'an speak a few short sentences every once in a while:
"Turn it over six times, not three times. You're doing something wrong here."
"Jiatian Creek is now."
"The spiritual fire rotates eight times forward and seven times backward, slower."
"The technique is good, but the process is terrible."
"Turn off the fire, blow the breath into the elixir, the last one is the most crucial, three, two, one open!"
…
During the whole process, the short-haired disciple just held the wooden stick and watched in confusion.
It wasn't until there was a bang in the pot that a colorful halo of light spread out, and a gray elixir with a touch of red formed in the steam, and the old doctor let out a long breath.
Then his face was trembling crazily, and tears were shining in his cloudy eyes.
He carefully picked up the "Yang-Returning Pill" that he had been praying for for decades, looked at it carefully for a long time, and then said hoarsely:
"It's done."
"Bang!"
The stick in the disciple's hand fell to the ground, he squatted on his butt and fell down, his mind went blank.
I only saw my master crying and laughing, losing his temper like never before.
In the courtyard, Ji Ping'an stood with his hands behind his hands, watching the crazy behavior of the master and apprentice without any rush.
a long time.
The old doctor finally came to his senses, wiped the corners of his eyes with his dirty robe, stood up, and bowed:
"The thirteenth generation descendant of the King of Medicine has met his benefactor."
Ji Ping'an smiled and said:
"You know who I am? Do you call me my benefactor?"
The old doctor said seriously:
"I don't know. But you can be regarded as a benefactor for solving my many years of confusion and sending me complete books."
Ji Ping'an looked astonished:
"Complete the classics...So, the pharmacopoeia left by Chang Baicao is already incomplete?"
When the old doctor heard this, he became more and more frightened and doubtful.
Because he was surprised to find that when the young master in front of him mentioned the name "Chang Baicao", there was no awe or belittling, but... familiarity.
Just like the friends made by the theory of equality... The old doctor laughed at himself, thinking that he was really out of his mind, how could he have such a crazy idea.
You must know that the founder of his sect, the doctor known as the "God of Medicine", was a divine figure seven or eight hundred years ago.
The reason why the young man in front of me spoke in such a tone was probably because of his extraordinary status.
However, he will not know that what he thinks is "impossible" is the truth.
The "God of Medicine" Chang Baicao, a legendary figure who was active in the world of Kyushu seven or eight hundred years ago, was originally a poor Taoist priest in a mountain village with a ruined temple, and he read medical books extensively.
Different from those "alchemists" who are accustomed to using various cherished "spiritual medicines" and "spiritual herbs" to make elixirs, he has found a way to rely on common medicinal materials, use spiritual elements to ignite the flame, and use special techniques to make elixirs with materials.
Although he is not as good as the Taoist alchemy master in terms of top elixirs.
But the advantage is that he is good at medical skills and mass production of drugs.
In the past, when Ji Ping'an was still "Li Yang" and traveling around the world, he happened to meet the "God of Medicine" who was already in his twilight years at that time and formed a "never-ending friendship".
Young Li Yang even followed the God of Medicine, going up the mountains to collect medicines, going into the water to catch fish, walking a long way, and saving countless lives.
It was not until later that Chang Baicao seriously asked him if he was willing to follow him to practice "medicine" and inherit his skills.
But Li Yang, who was burdened with hatred at that time, refused, said goodbye in the regretful eyes of the God of Medicine, and plunged into the world of mortals. From then on, he never had such a pure time of wandering around and studying pharmacology, treating diseases and saving people.
It wasn't until Li Yang achieved success in practice many years later that he learned that the God of Medicine was heading west.
I also paid attention to it during the Great Zhou Dynasty, and learned that its successor was the Yaowang Sect in the world.
Unexpectedly, hundreds of years have passed, and the last trace of the compassionate white-haired old man left in this world, carrying a bamboo basket on his back and leaning on a bamboo stick, has become incomplete.
Ji Ping'an recovered his thoughts and heard the old doctor in front of him nod bitterly, and then asked:
"I dare to ask, where did my benefactor learn about this 'Yang-Returning Pill' recipe?"
He believed that the mysterious person in front of him had obtained the second half of the "Chang's Pharmacopoeia" scattered in the world, so he could guide him to complete this furnace.
Ji Ping'an saw his thoughts at a glance and didn't bother to explain, saying:
"I haven't read the classics of your sect. I just followed an old man and learned some pharmacology. I can probably guess what you are doing."
The old doctor didn't believe it, but couldn't refute it.
Ji Ping'an smiled and suddenly bent down to pick up a few broken handwritten pharmacopoeias next to him. The old doctor trembled and wanted to stop him, but held back.
Ji Ping'an glanced at the first picture, shook his head and said:
"You must have made up the second half yourself. It's not bad. It's restored to a rough and tumble, but there are three mistakes, namely..."
the second one:
"There are many fallacies. You seem to have deduced some wrong things as the truth. No, the real situation is like this..."
The third picture:
"Hmm. This is not bad. It is relatively complete. However, there are problems with this recipe itself. There is no need to restore it. Chang Baicao wrote it down in the book, probably as a negative example of mistakes. As a result, later generations copied it randomly and regarded it as a treasure. …”
Ji Ping'an reviewed one by one and casually explained the explanations. The old doctor was so shocked that he couldn't speak. He excitedly picked up a pen and paper to record.
When Ji Ping'an dropped the last one, he glanced at the old doctor who felt like he had found a treasure, sighed softly, and said:
"Actually, you don't need to pay too much attention to this pharmacopoeia."
"What?" The old doctor was confused.
Ji Pingan said:
"Do you know that Chang Baicao was named the 'God of Medicine', so why the writings he left behind were not simply called 'Pharmacopoeia' but added the word 'Chang's'?"
He recalled what someone said earlier and said:
“Because he wanted to tell future generations that there is no eternally correct prescription, only the right medicine for the situation. The so-called pharmacopoeia is just his personal summary of experience and belongs only to himself and not to others.
It's not entirely correct either. Therefore, why bother to seek the so-called original text? What you have to do is to continue to build on the shoulders of the predecessors, or simply overthrow and rebuild. This is the true meaning of 'medicine'. "
The old doctor felt as if he had been struck by lightning.
When he came to his senses, he found that Ji Ping'an was gone.
There was only paper on the floor and a dry brush in his hand. He glanced blankly at the apprentice next to him and asked:
"Where are the people?"
The short-haired disciple scratched his head and said:
"Master, you have been in a daze and haven't spoken. That young master just left."
The old doctor is in a hurry:
"You coward, why did you let him go? You don't even know his identity."
The disciple said:
"I know, he is the young master who gave instructions to Grandmaster Chen today."
The old doctor was stunned for a long time before he said:
"I see."
…
On the same night, in the town, there was a house belonging to the Yue Nu Sword Sect.
In one room, a pretty-looking woman wearing a gauze skirt suddenly frowned, screamed in pain, and forcibly stopped practicing.
In the darkness, there were dense beads of sweat on her forehead, and she gasped softly, clutching the cramping pain in her lower abdomen.
After a while, I reluctantly got out of bed, pushed the door open, and walked into the courtyard.
Then I found that the room not far away was brightly lit, and a figure was reflected on the window paper.
The woman walked over, knocked gently, and then slowly opened the door.
Orange light shone from the crack in the door. There was a futon placed in the room, on which sat an elderly nun wearing a monk's gray robe and a crown sitting cross-legged.
"Master, you haven't rested yet." The woman called softly.
Master Wuxin, the leader of this generation of Yue Nu Sword Sect, opened her eyes, her expression was cold and stern at first, and then she looked at her disciple with a warm look:
"What's the matter?"
The woman said timidly:
"I practiced sword skills, and the disease recurred."
Master Wuxin was silent for a moment and sighed:
"Among the disciples of this generation, you have the best talent. If you take the path of being a master, your achievements will not be lower than mine. But you insist on choosing the path of the ancestor. This road is full of thorns. Although there is a sword manual, no one can I will guide you so that the deeper you practice, the stronger the backlash will be..."
The woman bit her lip and said firmly:
"I remember you said that if you want to revitalize our sect, you can only strengthen yourself. If a woman wants to gain a foothold in the world, she can only climb the highest and steepest mountain and stand higher than those men."
Master Wuxin’s eyes softened and she said distressedly:
"But your illness...that's all. I'm going to help you warm up and suppress it for a while...who?!"
Suddenly, the expression of the elderly female cultivator suddenly changed. She waved her right hand, causing the scabbard hanging in the corner to vibrate. She pulled out a long sword with a "crack" sound and slashed at the figure slowly emerging in the courtyard.
However, Ji Pingan's next words caused the sword to stop in the air:
"I can cure her disease."
…
Tingxuelou resident.
In a house, steam is thick, and a huge bathtub behind the screen emits steam, and the figure of a woman is reflected in it.
After a long time, a slender thigh poked out from the edge of the barrel, and then a wet hand lifted up and snatched away the small clothes hanging on the screen.
After a while, the host Tingxue walked out of the room after taking a bath, glanced at Hongying who was taking a nap waiting outside the door, and said helplessly:
"What are you waiting for here?"
The red-tasseled heroine yawned:
"Keep...keep..."
The host Tingxue smiled helplessly, urged her to go back to rest, and walked towards the bedroom.
Along the way, I was still thinking about how to deal with the wooing of "new weapons" and "old weapons" tomorrow.
However, these thoughts disappeared the moment she opened the door. The beautiful eyes on Tingxue's moist and tender face widened, and she subconsciously grabbed the flying knife and threw it out!
The next second, she saw the familiar figure in the bedroom wearing a bamboo hat with his back to her slowly turning around, holding a knife blade between his fingers, and said with a smile:
"I haven't seen you for a long time. Is this how Tingxue Tower treats guests?"
Tingxue Louzhu, who was tall and tall and ranked among the beauties in the world, was stunned. She was surprised and happy, and recognized that the person in front of her was the master who had had a night party with her in Shendu:
"It's you!?"
…
That night, when Ji Pingping returned to the inn where he lived, the moon had moved to the zenith.
He sat by the window, looked at the moon and missed the moon, and gradually became distracted.
Over the past thousand years, he has seen many people and many things, including aloof human beings, handsome dandies with angry horses, drunken and murderous gangsters, and parted with countless friends in life and death.
There is an old monk who has traveled thousands of miles to beg for alms, asking for thousands of dollars and thousands of clothes, just to return to the "Spiritual Mountain" and use the vapors of smoke and fire from the world of sentient beings to give away the innate fetal energy of an infant.
There is a female ghost in the river. She was sacrificed to the river god and never closed her eyes. She lingered in the river for sixty years, crying day and night, causing the river embankments to collapse and flood the villagers for five hundred miles.
There are soldiers on the battlefield who run thousands of miles, escape from the dead and ascend to heaven, covered with arrows like hedgehogs, just to escort a copper coin and military ration coin in their hand to the general.
There is a warrior with great determination who chases the sun naked, crossing the five major states on foot from the East China Sea to the west. He enters the demon savage alone just to see where the golden crow rests at the end of the sunset.
There are scholars who are rushing to take exams, and their youthful spirit has turned into gray hair. They are not interested in fame, but just to meet their sweetheart along the way.
A woman who was sincere, kind and virtuous was stripped naked by thieves, tied on horseback, and paraded in the street to humiliate her. On that day, every house in the city was closed, and the streets and alleys in the city were deserted...
However, all the past has disappeared like smoke, and things have changed.
Just like the various sects in the world are still alive, but the founder of the sect and the god of medicine in the past are no longer there.
In a daze, the night passed and the sky became bright.
Ji Ping'an opened his eyes and saw morning mist drifting outside the window and roosters crowing.
When the sky was bright, Ding Huan, a "famous figure in the world", walked out of his house, took a carriage, and visited the powerful neutral factions such as the Yaowang Sect, Yue Nu Sword Sect, and Tingxuelou one by one according to last night's plan.
He was full of confidence, thinking that with his reputation and his observation of the situation in the world, as long as he understood and moved his emotions, even if he could not succeed in everything, there would always be no problem in winning over one or two companies.
However, reality slapped him hard.
Overnight, all the neutral sects changed their previous attitudes at the same time and clearly rejected Xinwu's overtures. Instead, they went in groups to visit the old master of Longhu Mountain who was recovering from his injury.
"What happened last night?!"
In the Juyi Hall where the Wulin Alliance is stationed, Jiang Huai, who was wearing a purple robe, was stunned when he received the report from his subordinates.
He couldn't understand why the situation changed drastically overnight.
Jiang Xiaotang walked in from outside the hall carrying a cigarette bag, glanced at him lightly, blew out the smoke from her red lips and said:
"Last night, the sword holder went out."
Jiang Huai was startled and remained silent for a long time.
…
Soon, the news that the neutral faction defected to Jiuwu overnight and that Ding Huan was rejected spread like wildfire throughout Qixia Town.
It is talked about by countless people in the world.
"Master Li, you didn't do this again, did you?"
When Lu Qing, the top disciple of Longhu Mountain, arrived at the inn and found Ji Ping'an eating on the first floor, something was wrong in his eyes.
You know, just last night, Chen Qingsheng was still ill and was telling him to go meet with the major neutral factions one by one this morning to win support.
As a result, when Lu Qing opened his eyes, before Lu Qing could set out, all the major sects came together to give him and the old grandmaster a hard time.
Ji Ping'an smiled slightly and was about to answer.
Suddenly, Pei Qian ran over, holding a red invitation in his hand, and said excitedly:
"Sir, the Wulin Alliance has sent an invitation, inviting you to join the alliance tomorrow with all the major factions to discuss important matters!"
…
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(End of chapter)
