Chapter 34: A Shocking Return and an Unexpected Talent

The wooden wheels rumbled over the gravel road, their jarring motion not only shaking the carriage but also disquieting the thoughts of its occupant.

The lingering rays of the setting sun elongated their shadows.

After departing from Qing Shi Town and journeying for the better part of the day, they finally discerned the familiar outline of Apricot Blossom Village as dusk began to descend.

Lu Hongzhuang’s steps quickened as she pushed the wheelchair.

“We’ve finally arrived.”

Leaning back in her chair, Su Qinghan offered a languid reply; the relentless jolting of the journey had caused the wound on the back of her head to throb anew, leaving her feeling as though her entire body might just fall apart.

Just as the two reached the village entrance, a villager, shouldering a hoe and making their way home, caught sight of them in the distance.

The villager froze for a moment, then vigorously rubbed their eyes.

The very next second, as if confronted by a specter, they dropped the hoe from their grasp and let out an earth-shattering scream.

“Ah—a ghost!!”

“Doctor Su! Doctor Su’s spirit has returned!!!”

That single cry instantly ignited a commotion that engulfed half the village.

“What? Wasn’t it said that Doctor Su met with misfortune outside?”

“True or false? Go and see!”

In an instant, people poured out from every household in the village—men, women, old, and young alike—swarming towards the village entrance, their faces a mix of terror and eager curiosity.

Su Qinghan’s face darkened considerably.

The veins on her temples throbbed uncontrollably.

‘What in the world?’

She had merely stepped out for a short trip, yet how had the entire village begun circulating rumors of her demise? And, to top it off, that her spirit had returned?

She abruptly twisted her head, fixing Lu Hongzhuang behind her with a gaze that could kill.

Lu Hongzhuang stiffened under that piercing stare, guiltily averting her eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that? It wasn’t I who spread the rumors.”

Su Qinghan: “…”

‘If not you, then did I appear in their dreams to impart the news myself?!’

Trapped amidst a throng of trembling villagers, the two found themselves unable to either push forward or retreat.

Eventually, the village chief, leaning heavily on his cane, tremblingly squeezed his way through the crowd. Beholding Su Qinghan, who appeared perfectly unharmed save for her grim expression, he was overcome with a mixture of shock and profound joy.

“Doctor Su! You… you’re not dead!”

“Do I truly appear to be dead?” Su Qinghan retorted, her tone sharp with irritation.

Only after this confirmation did the villagers realize they were indeed facing a living person. A collective sigh of relief swept through the crowd, swiftly followed by an outburst of immense joy.

“Wonderful! Doctor Su isn’t dead!”

“I always said Doctor Su was blessed with great fortune and a long life!”

Amidst the clamor of fervent greetings, Su Qinghan, her face still etched with displeasure, instructed Lu Hongzhuang to push her homeward.

Yet, the closer they drew to her small courtyard, the more intensely an ominous premonition weighed upon her heart.

Upon reaching her courtyard gate, she was utterly dumbfounded.

White paper streamers adorned the courtyard walls and hung above the door frame, swaying mournfully in the evening breeze, presenting a scene of profound desolation.

Moreover, a crude incense altar had been erected in the very center of the courtyard.

Curiously, no spirit tablet rested upon the incense altar.

In its place was the very four-wheeled cart—its wooden wheels encased in iron plating—that Lu Hongzhuang had taken and subsequently left in the forest, though Su Qinghan had no idea who on earth had taken it from there.

Several village women knelt before the four-wheeled cart, burning paper money and wailing lamentations to the heavens.

“Oh, Doctor Su! What a tragic death you suffered!”

“Rest assured, you may depart in peace. We have enshrined your precious carriage for you, and we vow to offer incense before it every single day!”

Su Qinghan’s face cycled through shades, turning from dark to green, and then from green to a livid, ashen blue.

As she watched the villagers weep and bow before her very own wheelchair, a surge of air caught in her chest, threatening to make her faint on the spot.

A stifled chuckle.

From behind her, an uncontrollable snicker drifted through the air.

Su Qinghan whirled around to find Lu Hongzhuang desperately clamping a hand over her mouth, her shoulders visibly shaking, her face flushed crimson from the effort of stifling her mirth.

“Is this truly so amusing?” Su Qinghan ground out, her teeth clenched.

Lu Hongzhuang vigorously shook her head, yet the irrepressibly upturned corners of her lips betrayed her true amusement.

The villagers in the courtyard finally became aware of the two figures at the gate, and their mournful cries abruptly ceased.

For a moment, an intense awkwardness permeated the scene.

Ultimately, it was Su Qinghan who, with what little energy she possessed, explained the situation at length before the villagers finally grasped that the entire affair had been a colossal misunderstanding.

As it happened, a few days prior, some villagers on a hunting trip in the mountains had discovered her abandoned four-wheeled cart, leading them to mistakenly believe she had perished.

Overwhelmed with grief, they had carried the four-wheeled cart back, treating it as a “relic,” and had even spontaneously begun arranging her “funeral rites.”

With the misunderstanding finally resolved, the villagers, now a mix of shame and relief, busied themselves with clearing away all the white streamers and paper money from the courtyard, before pushing the iron-plated wheelchair into a discreet corner.

By the time the commotion subsided, the sky had fully succumbed to night.

Having bid farewell to the overly enthusiastic villagers, a much-needed tranquility finally descended upon the courtyard.

Su Qinghan let out a long, drawn-out sigh, feeling utterly drained, both in body and spirit.

She instructed Lu Hongzhuang: “Push me to the study.”

Lu Hongzhuang, complying with the request, pushed her into the study, then watched as Su Qinghan gestured towards the inkstone resting on the table.

“Grind the ink.”

“Are you planning to write?” Lu Hongzhuang inquired, a hint of perplexity in her voice. “Your injury hasn’t fully healed; surely you ought to be resting more.”

Su Qinghan cast a sidelong glance at her.

“Did I not mention I would teach you methods for dealing with malevolent spirits?”

She extended a finger, indicating the small booklet tucked securely within Lu Hongzhuang’s embrace.

“That very ‘Dragon-Tiger Guidance Art’ booklet—are you capable of understanding its contents?”

Lu Hongzhuang’s expression instantly turned serious, losing all trace of mirth.

She retrieved the booklet, opened it, and gazed at the characters within—scribbles that seemed utterly indecipherable, yet held a strange, inexplicable familiarity. Honestly, she shook her head.

“I can’t understand it.”

“The script within these pages is an ancient, esoteric text,” Su Qinghan declared, her expression perfectly composed as she began to speak utter nonsense, “naturally, it’s beyond the comprehension of ordinary individuals.”

“I will translate; you will transcribe.”

“Henceforth, every morning and evening, you shall cultivate according to the methods you transcribe. Whether you achieve true initiation will depend entirely on your own fortune and innate talent.”

Upon hearing that this was a matter of serious import, Lu Hongzhuang’s spirits immediately lifted.

She carefully placed the booklet on the table, rolled up her sleeves, picked up the ink stick, and began earnestly grinding it in slow, deliberate circles within the inkstone.

Watching her meticulous demeanor, Su Qinghan chuckled inwardly.

Clearing her throat, she embarked upon her grand “translation” endeavor.

“Qi sinks to the Dantian, spirit roams the boundless void…”

“Draw the qi of heaven and earth, return it to oneself, transform it into a trickling stream, cleansing the meridians…”

As she spoke, she subtly observed Lu Hongzhuang’s reactions.

All of these were based on her cultivation experiences from her previous life, simplified repeatedly to create a set of the most fundamental breathing techniques, designed specifically for mortals to perceive the spiritual energy of heaven and earth.

In her original world, even individuals with the most mediocre aptitude could, after a decade or eight years of practice, barely perceive a faint sensation of qi.

Lu Hongzhuang’s martial arts cultivation had already reached the Condensing Aura realm; her vital energy and blood were abundant, and her foundation solid, so she ought to progress more swiftly.

Perhaps… three to five years?

Lu Hongzhuang transcribed with utmost seriousness, fearing she might miss a single character. She used the seal script common in this world, each stroke precise and neat.

Soon, a sheet of Xuan paper was filled.

The night was far advanced, with the moon high in the sky.

“Alright, that’s enough for today,” Su Qinghan yawned. “Find a quiet place and try practicing the method written here yourself.”

Lu Hongzhuang solemnly put away the paper filled with the “secret method,” nodded, and walked to the center of the courtyard. She sat down cross-legged and quickly entered a state of meditation.

Su Qinghan observed her, looking like an old monk in deep meditation, then shook her head and wheeled herself into the backyard.

The backyard served as her vegetable garden and kitchen.

For her convenience, everything, from the height of the vegetable beds to the dimensions of the stove, had been meticulously designed to be at the perfect height for operation from a wheelchair.

She deftly plucked a few fresh green vegetables and scooped a lively fish from the water缸.

Lighting the fire, boiling water, scaling the fish, gutting it.

A series of fluid, practiced movements.

Soon, the aroma of cooking wafted from the kitchen.

Just as Su Qinghan used a wooden spatula to plate the last dish, preparing to carry it to the table, a hand reached out, taking both the plate and the spatula from her.

“I’ll do it.”

It was Lu Hongzhuang.

She had finished her meditation at some unknown moment and now stood quietly at the kitchen entrance.

Su Qinghan did not stand on ceremony. Leaning back in her chair, she languidly watched as Lu Hongzhuang carried each dish to the stone table in the courtyard.

“How did it feel?” Su Qinghan asked casually.

Lu Hongzhuang served two bowls of rice, placing one before Su Qinghan before taking her own seat.

She picked up her chopsticks, pondered for a moment, then spoke.

“I could feel it.”

Her voice was steady, devoid of discernible emotion.

“Between heaven and earth, there is a very faint current of qi. Following your method, it can be drawn into the body.”

Su Qinghan’s movement, as she picked up a piece of food, paused.

She could feel it?

How long had it been? Not even an hour, surely?

She mumbled softly: “What a freak.”

The sound was quiet, yet in the stillness of the night, it was remarkably clear.

Lu Hongzhuang’s hand, holding her chopsticks, halted mid-air. She looked up at Su Qinghan, her face etched with confusion.

“A freak?”

“Ahem, nothing,” Su Qinghan quickly shoveled a mouthful of rice to cover her slip. “I meant you possess extraordinary talent, a true cultivation genius.”

Lu Hongzhuang did not press further. Her brow furrowed slightly, as if she were deep in thought.

“This method… it’s quite remarkable.”

“The ‘qi’ it draws in is entirely different from the vital energy and blood power we martial artists cultivate. It’s purer, and also more… ethereal.”

She put down her chopsticks, looking earnestly at Su Qinghan.

“But I feel that this method seems incomplete.”

“It’s like embarking on a wide, open road, but at the road’s end, there’s nothing but a dense fog, with no direction visible.”

“This was originally meant for beginners to find their qi sensation, who knew you’d be such a freak,” Su Qinghan retorted irritably.