Chapter 320: Healing the Plague Gourd

Inside the thatched hut, Ji San Gongzi lay on a wooden bed, his body wrapped in a haze of gray qi, his face ashen and lifeless. Most alarming was the grotesque sight of festering sores covering his left side—his face and the exposed part of his left hand—like a curse etched into flesh. He looked barely alive, clinging to existence by a thread.

Hu Lao San stared in disbelief. Was this truly the same man just days ago—handsome, noble, a prince of a great family? His breath caught in his throat.

Though his spirit remained lucid, Ji San Gongzi blinked slowly upon seeing Lu Qing and the others. “Third Master, how do you feel?” Hu Lao San asked with genuine concern.

“Still breathing,” Ji San Gongzi whispered weakly. “Uncle Hu, who are these people…?”

“These are Lu Xiao Langjun and Chen Lao Qian Bei—men you’ve met before, at the city gate not long ago.”

Ji San Gongzi squinted at Lu Qing, straining to recall. A faint memory stirred. Yet he couldn’t understand why Hu Lao San had brought them here. Didn’t he send a message to Ji Jia for help?

Lu Qing said nothing at first, his expression unreadable. He was quietly surprised—because he had already detected the Zhang Qi Yin Ji inside Ji San Gongzi’s body, beginning to stir. The sores on his skin confirmed it. But what puzzled him was that the curse had only partially awakened—its spread abruptly halted, as if suppressed.

According to all logic, a man at the Post-Natal Internal Organs Stage, with only Nei Fu Jing cultivation, should not possess the strength to contain such a cursed imprint.

Activating his abilities, Lu Qing studied Ji San Gongzi’s body with focused precision. Instantly, several floating glyphs appeared before him:

【Ji Fei: Qinglong City, Ji Jia San Gongzi. Honest by nature, kind-hearted.】

【Cultivation: Early Post-Natal Internal Organs Stage.】

【Infected with the Demon Cultist’s Zhang Qi Yin Ji—miasma entangled, deep within bone marrow.】

【Previously consumed Yunmeng White Fruit—body transformed, vitality far surpassing ordinary men.】

...

Ah. Now it made sense.

After confirming Ji San Gongzi’s condition, Lu Qing’s face cleared with understanding. This young man had once experienced a rare fortune—ingesting the mythical Yunmeng White Fruit—which had altered his constitution, granting him the resilience to withstand the curse’s full eruption.

Seeing the confusion in Ji San Gongzi’s eyes, Lu Qing smiled faintly. “Third Master, you carry the Zhang Qi Yin Ji. The mark is now deeply embedded in your bones, using your body as a vessel to generate miasma and plague. To survive, we must suppress and completely remove it. Otherwise, once the curse fully activates, this entire village may become a plague-ridden wasteland.”

Hearing this, the dim light in Ji San Gongzi’s eyes flickered to life. “You… can truly remove this curse from me?” he asked, voice trembling with fragile hope.

“I have a chance,” Lu Qing replied, nodding. “But it requires your cooperation.”

“Anything,” Ji San Gongzi declared, his voice firm. “If it means erasing this mark and preventing its awakening, I’ll give my life willingly.”

Seeing such resolve, Lu Qing gave a subtle nod of approval. “You need do nothing more than trust me. Simply relax your mind and do not resist the healing.”

“Only that?” Ji San Gongzi blinked, stunned.

“Only that,” Lu Qing repeated.

Turning to Old Doctor, he said, “Master, I will suppress and expel the mark. I may not be able to focus on anything else afterward. If anything happens, I’ll need you to keep watch.”

Old Doctor’s eyes narrowed. “You’re suggesting someone might come?”

Lu Qing hesitated. “I can’t be certain. But this Zhang Qi Yin Ji is tied to the one who planted it. If that person is nearby, they’ll likely sense the disturbance when I begin.”

Old Doctor nodded solemnly. “I understand. Go ahead. Clear the mark.”

If it were only a mundane plague, he could manage. But this was cultivation-level corruption—beyond his current reach.

“Uncle Hu, please help me carry Ji San Gongzi outside. The sunlight may help suppress the miasma. Be careful not to touch the gray qi.”

With Hu Lao San’s help, Lu Qing and the old man lifted the bed and carried Ji San Gongzi into the open air. The girl who had followed them stepped out too, gripping her wooden stick tightly as she stood guard.

It was then that everyone noticed: her face was marred with deep, jagged scars—evidence of past leprosy.

In fact, as Lu Qing glanced around, he realized most villagers had similar scars—proof they had survived the same disease long ago.

“Little sister,” Lu Qing said gently, “I’m about to heal this young master. Could you step back a little? Don’t worry—I won’t harm him.”

The girl didn’t move. Her eyes remained wary.

“Xiao Rou,” Ji San Gongzi murmured softly, “it’s okay. They’re my friends. They won’t hurt me.”

Hearing his voice, she glanced at him. After a long pause, she slowly stepped aside—but her eyes never left Lu Qing and the others. Clearly, she still didn’t fully trust them.

Lu Qing understood. There was clearly a story between Ji San Gongzi and this girl.

Once she was clear, Lu Qing picked up a wooden stick and began carving a complex array in the dirt around the bed. His movements were swift and precise. Within moments, an intricate, ancient seal was drawn.

Ji San Gongzi’s bed sat at the center.

When the array was complete, Lu Qing flicked several jade talismans into the ground, channeling their power to connect with the earth. Instantly, a soft, golden glow flared to life, forming a translucent dome that enveloped Lu Qing and Ji San Gongzi.

The sight stunned everyone—especially those who had never witnessed such cultivation techniques. The villagers fell to their knees, convinced they were witnessing a miracle.

Even Ji San Gongzi’s eyes widened in awe. Hope surged within him. The more powerful Lu Qing’s methods appeared, the greater his chance of survival.

But Lu Qing had no time to care. His expression hardened as he focused on the man before him.

The moment the light dome formed, the gray qi around Ji San Gongzi stirred violently—like a trapped beast sensing danger. It began creeping toward his right side, seeking to reclaim its territory.

Lu Qing stepped forward, fingers weaving rapid hand seals. A Ling Fu formed in his palm and shot toward Ji San Gongzi’s chest.

The gray qi surged to block it—but the moment the Ling Fu glowed with a faint white light, the miasma recoiled as if burned, scattering to the sides. The seal sank into Ji San Gongzi’s body.

The effect was immediate. The gray qi hovering outside his skin froze for a split second—then rapidly withdrew, collapsing into his left side.

Lu Qing smiled. With a swift motion, he conjured another Ling Fu, this time aimed at Ji San Gongzi’s head.

The seal struck his forehead. Instantly, the gray sores on his left cheek began to retreat, crawling down toward his neck.

Lu Qing continued, weaving seals with precision. Five Ling Fu in total—each one driving the miasma back, cornering it.

Finally, the gray qi was forced into a single, grotesque mark—now pulsing at the center of Ji San Gongzi’s chest.

At that very moment, deep within a cave dozens of li away, a figure sitting cross-legged snapped open his eyes.

“Someone’s trying to remove the Zhang Qi Yin Ji I planted in that Ji Jia boy?”

The man was wreathed in gray mist, a massive gray gourd slung across his back.

“Who… dares to undo my curse?”

His expression flickered with shock and disbelief. The Zhang Qi Yin Ji had been implanted using his Plague Gourd—a relic of ancient power. Even a Xian Tian cultivator at the peak of their form should not have been able to disrupt it.

Yet it had been touched.

Who could possibly possess such power?

The man hesitated. Part of him wanted to rush there—this boy’s unique constitution could be invaluable for his future cultivation. If successfully turned into a plague puppet, he would be an unstoppable weapon.

But another part warned: whoever could disrupt the curse was no ordinary foe. Perhaps even a survivor of some ancient legacy.

After a tense pause, he made his decision.

He would go.

He had already begun refining the Plague Gourd, and his strength had grown immensely. Even a Xian Tian Jing Wan Man cultivator might not stand against him.

And if things turned dangerous, he could vanish in an instant—no one could stop him.

With a flick of his hand, he drew the surrounding gray mist into the gourd, revealing a pale, ashen face beneath.

“I’ll see who dares tamper with my furnace,” he growled, eyes burning with fury. “Let’s see who’s bold enough to challenge me.”

With that, he vanished from the cave, following the faint thread of spiritual resonance.

Meanwhile, back at the village, an unexpected event unfolded.

From beyond the village, a loud cry echoed through the air: “Fei’er! Where are you? Father’s come to take you home!”

Moments later, multiple powerful spiritual auras appeared at the edge of the clearing.

“Ji Jia Zhu, please wait,” Ma Gu’s voice rang out calmly.

Ji Jia Zhu froze. He recognized Ma Gu—the driver of the very man who had once terrified even the Qinglong City Lord.

Behind him, the Ji Jia Xian Tian cultivators stiffened. Ma Gu’s presence meant he was near.

Recalling the terrifying power displayed in the city, they immediately suppressed their spiritual presence, not daring to provoke.

Ji Jia Zhu bowed. “May I ask—has Lu Xiao Langjun come as well?”

“Yes,” Ma Gu replied. “My master is inside, treating Ji San Gongzi. Please keep your voices down. We mustn’t disturb him.”

Hearing this, Ji Jia Zhu exhaled in relief. His son was alive.

He pressed on. “I’m deeply honored that my son has drawn the attention of such a master. I thank you on his behalf. May I enter the village?”

Ma Gu hesitated.

Then Old Doctor’s voice came from within the dome: “Let them in.”

Ma Gu nodded. “Ji Jia Zhu, my master invites you.”

“Thank you,” Ji Jia Zhu said, bowing respectfully—despite Ma Gu being only Hou Tian Jing. He then led his men into the village.

When they reached the clearing, they were struck dumb.

The glowing array screen, the radiant light, the sight of Ji San Gongzi—half-mangled, ravaged by disease—shook them to their core.

Ji Jia Zhu’s face twisted with grief. He could only imagine the agony his son had endured to reach this state.

But he held his composure. Though heartbroken, he saw Lu Qing working with unwavering focus. He dared not speak.

Instead, he quietly bowed to Old Doctor. “Respected elder, I greet you.”

“Please, no need,” Old Doctor replied with a nod. “A Qing is nearly done. The Zhang Qi Yin Ji will soon be purged. You need not worry.”

Though Ji Jia Zhu didn’t know what the curse was, he sensed the progress. Relief washed over him. He turned his gaze toward the array.

Inside the light dome, Lu Qing had already forced all the gray qi into a single mark—now pulsing like a living heart at the center of Ji San Gongzi’s chest.

But it wasn’t enough.

The Zhang Qi Yin Ji was fused with Ji San Gongzi’s Heart Meridian—too deeply rooted to simply push out.

Lu Qing reached into his robe and withdrew a Zhen Nang. With a surge of qi, he drove eighteen Yin Zhen into the area around Ji San Gongzi’s heart, sealing both the meridian and the curse—ensuring the mark couldn’t escape.

With its path cut off, the Zhang Qi Yin Ji writhed in panic.

The pain was unbearable. Ji San Gongzi gasped, sweat breaking out in large beads across his face. The sores on his skin pulsed with every throb of agony.

The gray mark in his chest writhed like a living thing—twitching, twisting, desperate.

The sight chilled everyone. Even Ji Jia Zhu’s heart shattered.

But Lu Qing remained unmoved.

His eyes were locked on the pulsing curse—like a heartbeat of evil.

His hands moved in rapid succession, weaving seals. As a final Ling Fu formed in his palm—emanating a soft golden light—a wave of calm washed over the onlookers.

Yet the Zhang Qi Yin Ji writhed all the more violently.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end