17: Chapter 17 The Old Accountant's Mouth, the Missing Dog

He planned to buy half a pot of the cheapest yellow wine in town, cut two taels of braised pig head meat, warm it with the embers in the stove, and savor it slowly alone after finishing the ledger at night.

The liquor shop was at the alley entrance. The shopkeeper was familiar with him. Seeing him arrive, he deftly scooped wine from the large vat with a bamboo ladle and poured it into the old tin pot he had brought himself.

Old Zhou fished out a few copper coins from his bosom, counted them carefully, and handed them over.

The shopkeeper didn't take them, but waved his hand instead, smiling and saying, "Mr. Zhou, this wine is on me today. Congratulations to Master Lin for the new addition to the family!"

Old Zhou was stunned. His cloudy old eyes brightened, and a look of genuine relief appeared on his tense face, which had been tight for days. "That… that is many thanks."

He didn't decline again, knowing this was a form of awe and goodwill from the townspeople toward Lin Chen's current influence.

He carried the heavy wine pot, feeling warmer inside than if he had actually drunk the wine.

He habitually took a slightly longer route, wanting to check under the old locust tree at the west end of town.

Every afternoon, he would play two games of chess there with a few old friends and brag a bit.

Today, the area around the chessboard was empty, with only fallen leaves.

His chess partner, Old Li, hadn't come. He sat alone facing the stone chessboard for a while, felt a bit bored, and got up to walk back.

The road back to the residence required passing through two quiet alleys.

Autumn evenings came early. The light in the alley was dim, casting long shadows.

As he walked, Old Zhou's ears, which were exceptionally sensitive from years of calculating accounts, caught an unusual sound.

Behind him, there seemed to be footsteps, not too far or too close, always maintaining a distance of three to five zhang.

His heart skipped a beat, and he subconsciously gripped the wine pot tighter.

He pretended to look back casually; the alley was empty, save for a townsman carrying a burden who was just turning into another fork.

Was he just overthinking?

He steadied himself and continued walking forward.

But those faint, lingering footsteps, like a bone-sticking sore, remained.

He looked back again, only to see a woman holding a child, walking quickly with her head down.

Old Zhou's heart rose to his throat, and his steps involuntarily quickened.

Just as he turned into the last alley, less than fifty steps from the familiar walls of the Lin residence, a gust of wind suddenly attacked from behind!

He had no time to react before a piece of coarse cloth soaked in a pungent medicinal smell was pressed tightly over his nose and mouth.

That sweet yet spicy scent flooded his nasal cavity frantically. He felt the world spinning, and his limbs instantly lost all strength.

"Mmph… mmph…"

He struggled twice, and the tin pot in his hand fell to the ground with a "clatter." The dark yellow wine mixed with the shattered tin shards, quickly seeping into the dry dust and leaving a dark, wet stain.

Immediately, his vision went black, and he collapsed completely.

A middle-aged man wearing grey cloth short-sleeved attire with a sinister face picked him up like a chicken, his figure blurring a few times before disappearing into the depths of the alley.

Inside the alley, deathly silence returned.

Only that gradually drying wine stain silently told of everything that had happened there.

At dusk, A-Tu returned from the Spiritual Field, carrying a hoe and covered in mud.

His black dog, "A-Huang," followed him closely, occasionally nudging his pant leg with its nose.

Passing the liquor shop at the alley entrance, he habitually poked his head in and asked, "Shopkeeper Qian, have you seen Mr. Zhou?"

The shopkeeper was wiping the counter and shook his head upon hearing this: "He came over at noon to buy a pot of wine and left. I haven't seen him since."

A-Tu said "Oh," not thinking much of it, assuming Old Zhou might have chatted with his chess friends for a while longer.

But upon returning to the Lin residence, he found that the newly replaced wooden door was locked tight from the inside.

Old Zhou had the key on him. At this hour, he should have been in the kitchen preparing dinner.

A-Tu went around to the back door, but it was also locked. A feeling of unease welled up in his heart.

He suddenly remembered that when he was watering the newly cultivated land near the fields in the afternoon, the corner of his eye had caught a familiar figure.

That figure was Hong Biao, but he looked very strange today.

He was no longer the overbearing bully he used to be, but instead acted like a frightened rat, skulking around the abandoned dilapidated house area on the outskirts of town, occasionally poking his head toward the direction of their own wasteland.

At the time, he thought Hong Biao was just unwilling to give up, so he shouted from a distance, and the figure was scared into shrinking back.

Now that he thought about it, that wasn't spying at all; it looked more like he was leading someone.

A-Tu's heart jumped violently, and a chill crawled up from the soles of his feet.

He didn't dare to shout at the gate, but instead ran quickly to the back courtyard wall, where there was a crooked tree.

He climbed up using his hands and feet, flipped into the yard, and landed with a muffled thud.

The yard was quiet.

Not daring to make a sound, he lowered his steps and moved through the yard like a civet cat, running straight to the independent Meditation Room in the back yard. He raised his hand and knocked on the door at a frequency that was extremely light, yet loud enough for the person inside to hear.

"Knock, knock-knock."

Inside the Meditation Room, the light was dim.

Lin Chen sat cross-legged on a cushion. On the floor in front of him, a complex array was drawn with charcoal—it was the [First Rank Low Grade Spirit Gathering Array] rewarded by the System.

He was still missing the Qi-Inducing Sand and a Spirit Stone of sufficient quality for the basic Materials needed to set up the array—Spirit Gathering Stone, Azure-Vein Wood, and Qi-Inducing Sand.

He was repeatedly studying every spiritual power node of the array diagram when A-Tu's unique knocking sounded outside the door.

His brows moved slightly, but he didn't get up.

Another door to the Meditation Room was pushed open, and Su Qingyao walked in carrying a black ceramic medicine bowl.

Inside the bowl was freshly brewed brown soup, emitting a pungent medicinal smell that could make a person choke.

She placed the bowl gently on the low table beside Lin Chen, said nothing, and walked to a small Pill Furnace the size of a palm in the corner of the Meditation Room.

She carefully lifted the furnace lid, controlled the faint, almost invisible flame at the bottom of the furnace, and added several kinds of dried and ground herbal powders into the furnace in a specific order.

Finally, she joined her fair index and middle fingers, forced a drop of crimson essence blood with a faint green glow from her fingertips, and dripped it into the furnace.

"Hiss—"

The furnace fire flickered for a moment, and a wisp of extremely faint, lingering grey smoke, mixed with the smell of burnt herbs and blood, slowly rose from the furnace mouth.

This was the "soul-disrupting incense" she had painstakingly improved based on an incomplete Pill Formula.

The Materials were crude, and it even required her to expend her limited Origin essence blood, and the effect was completely unknown, but this was the greatest help she could provide Lin Chen at the moment.

Lin Chen picked up the bowl of medicine, didn't even look at it, and drank it in one gulp.

The extreme bitterness exploded in his mouth instantly, as if he had swallowed a handful of red-hot iron sand.

The medicinal power slid down his throat, turning into a scorching stream that flowed slowly, nourishing the several fine Meridians that had been injured when he fought Hong Biao days ago.

He put down the bowl, his gaze falling on Su Qingyao's focused profile.

Her brows were slightly furrowed, and fine sweat beaded on her forehead, but her eyes were startlingly bright, staring fixedly at the reaction of the Pill Furnace.

Lin Chen's right fingertips subconsciously stroked the rough stone ring on his thumb.

It wasn't until A-Tu's knocking became a bit anxious that he withdrew his gaze and said in a low voice, "Come in."

The door opened, A-Tu flashed in, and closed the door behind him.

His face was pale, his lips trembling, and he poured out his discoveries and guesses in a rapid stream.

After listening, Lin Chen put down the array diagram in his hand, stood up, and walked into the courtyard.

Night had begun to spread.

He first walked to the main gate, carefully checking the locks and the door bolts; there were no traces of damage from external force.

He then walked into Old Zhou's room.

The room was simply furnished, the bedding neatly folded, and that worn-out brush he had used for many years rested quietly on the inkstone, with half a piece of unground ink beside it.

Everything looked as if the owner had just stepped out temporarily.

He said nothing, took A-Tu, and headed straight for the wasteland.

Standing on the ridge of the field, he followed the direction where A-Tu had seen Hong Biao in the afternoon and looked toward the area of dilapidated houses.

Twilight deepened; it was like a silent beast, pitch black and deathly silent.

But his keen spiritual sense caught something unusual.

On a patch of mud near the edge of the dilapidated house area, there were a few fresh footprints.

They were not the straw sandal prints often worn by farmers in town, but left by some kind of leather boots. The marks were deep, showing that the person who stepped there had agile footwork, and the direction of the footprints pointed straight into the depths of the dilapidated house area.

"Hong Biao's courage was shattered by me; he doesn't have the guts to come back directly." Lin Chen's voice was very low, as if speaking to A-Tu, or perhaps to himself. "But he is very likely to have sold us out, sold us to someone he thinks can deal with us."

A-Tu's face turned as pale as paper instantly.

"Return to the residence," Lin Chen patted his shoulder. "Watch over the wife and Young Miss, lock the doors, and no matter what noise you hear, do not come out."

After speaking, his figure flickered like a wisp of blue smoke, silently blending into the thickening night, and snuck toward the deathly silent dilapidated house area.

Deep in the dilapidated house area, in one relatively intact abandoned earth house.

A dim oil lamp cast the shadows of two people onto the mottled earthen wall, stretching them like ghosts.

Old Zhou was tied to a pillar in the corner of the room with a thick hemp rope, his mouth stuffed with a dirty rag.

His gray hair was disheveled, a clear slap mark was swollen high on his face, blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, and he was breathing violently.

Outer Sect Deacon Wang Heng sat on a large stone acting as a stool, toying with a few pieces of rough paper in his hands.

These were the simple ledgers of the Lin residence that he had searched from Old Zhou's bosom.

His gaze swept over words like "Spirit Stone expenditure: five pieces," "Spirit seed purchase: cloud mist grass," "Herb purchase: Heart-Clearing Grass, Dew-Condensing Flower," and the greedy light in his eyes grew increasingly intense.

"It seems that my Junior Brother Lin, who had his cultivation crippled, not only didn't die, but is living quite comfortably." Outer Sect Deacon Wang Heng laughed coldly, kicking Old Zhou's leg with the tip of his foot, neither lightly nor heavily.

"Old thing, speak. Where does he live? Is that beautiful wife of his the Pill-Dao Genius surnamed Su from the Qingmu Sect back then? Where did he get the Spirit Stones to set up this family business? Did he get some heaven-sent Opportunity after falling off the cliff?"

Old Zhou made an angry "woo-woo" sound in his throat, his old eyes wide, shaking his head with all his might.

Outer Sect Deacon Wang Heng lost his patience, reached out, and ripped the rag from his mouth.

"I don't know what you are talking about!" As soon as he could speak, Old Zhou shouted hoarsely with all his might, "My master is just an ordinary Loose Cultivator, honestly making a living by farming the Spiritual Field! You thugs will come to no good end!"

"Farming?" Outer Sect Deacon Wang Heng laughed as if he had heard the biggest joke, waving the ledger in his hand with a grim smile, "Can farming afford Spirit seeds? Can farming have Spirit Stones to spend? Old thing, your mouth is quite tough!"

He suddenly restrained his smile, and a spiritual power Spiritual Pressure at the Peak of the Ninth Level of Qi Refining pressed down on Old Zhou like an invisible boulder.

Old Zhou groaned, feeling all his bones creaking, his internal organs out of place, and cold sweat instantly soaked his back.

"I'll ask one more time," Outer Sect Deacon Wang Heng's voice was like tempered ice, "Where is he?"

Old Zhou was trembling with pain, his teeth chattering, but he still squeezed a few words through his teeth: "Master… Master is lucky, the Spiritual Field… the harvest is good…"

Outer Sect Deacon Wang Heng stared at his stubborn, unyielding eyes and finally slowly withdrew his Spiritual Pressure.

Although he hadn't asked for the specific address, Old Zhou's stubbornness in refusing to yield even in the face of death only made him 100% certain that Lin Chen must be hiding a shocking secret!

A secret worth an old servant giving his life to guard!

He stuffed the rag back into Old Zhou's mouth and said sinisterly, "Not talking? It doesn't matter. When dawn comes, I will go to town and 'ask around' house by house. I will always be able to find him."

Lin Chen lurked behind a broken wall on the outskirts of the dilapidated house area for a full hour.

He saw the faint firelight from the earth house and, using his hearing that surpassed ordinary people, vaguely caught Old Zhou's suppressed, painful groans and the cold questioning voice of another strange man.

He didn't rush in rashly.

The opponent dared to act like this in Black Stone Town, so they must have something to rely on.

Judging from the trace of spiritual power fluctuation that leaked out inadvertently, his strength was at least at the Late Stage of Qi Refining, far above Hong Biao.

The enemy is in the dark while we are in the light; charging in to save someone is just a path to death.

He took a deep look at the earth house, retreated silently like a gecko, and blended back into the night that had completely descended.

Returning to the Lin residence, he climbed over the wall.

Su Qingyao and A-Tu were anxiously guarding behind the door. Seeing him return safely, both breathed a sigh of relief.

Lin Chen shook his head at them, his face as heavy as water.

"Old Zhou has been captured." He walked to the bare old locust tree in the courtyard, looked up at the pitch-black night sky, his voice cold, "The person who captured him has a cultivation at the Late Stage of Qi Refining. If I'm not mistaken, it should be Outer Sect Deacon Wang Heng."

"Outer Sect Deacon Wang Heng?" Su Qingyao's body trembled imperceptibly. That was the name of an Outer Sect Deacon of the Qingmu Sect, known for being ruthless.

Her fingers subconsciously twisted the corner of her clothes, her knuckles turning white.

"He won't kill Old Zhou immediately; Old Zhou is the only clue he has to find us." Lin Chen's voice had no waves, as if he were stating something unrelated to himself, "He is waiting, waiting for us to lose our footing and expose ourselves; or, waiting for dawn to go to town and make a big fuss asking around."

He turned around, his gaze like lightning, first looking toward the Meditation Room where Su Qingyao had been staying.

"The incense, can it be ready before sunrise tomorrow?"

Su Qingyao took a deep breath, her chest heaving slightly. She didn't speak, just nodded with all her might, then turned and walked quickly toward the Pill room filled with the smell of medicine.

Lin Chen's gaze turned to A-Tu.

"A-Tu, as soon as dawn breaks tomorrow, go to the blacksmith shop at the east end of town. Say that the thick-backed hoe I asked him to repair is ready, and ask him to deliver it to the big banyan tree at the foot of the mountain, three miles south of town, and hand it to me."

Although A-Tu didn't understand why, looking at Lin Chen's calm-to-the-point-of-being-scary eyes, he nodded forcefully, memorizing every word.

Lin Chen finally walked to the corner of the courtyard wall, rummaged through a pile of debris left over from repairing the roof, and found a few Low-Grade Spirit Stones with dull colors and weak spiritual power. He then pulled out the carving knife he used to carve the array base from his bosom.

He squatted down, and with the faint light coming from the room, began to carve on the surface of the Spirit Stones.

The knife tip scraped across the hard stone surface, emitting a "creak, creak" sound that set one's teeth on edge.

The night was still long.