Chapter Sixteen: Where the Heart Lies, No Blade Can Prevail

Fortunately, the python was already gravely wounded, so Chu Youcai managed to hold on, barely enduring until half a cup of tea’s time had passed. By then, the energy within his body had somewhat recovered. He once again unleashed the Toad Dragon Art upon the serpent, and this time, with a shrill scream, the python finally perished.

Yet Chu Youcai, utterly exhausted, collapsed into unconsciousness.

In his faintness, he caught the scent of a sweet, enticing aroma. When he opened his eyes, he found that the youth from before was beside him, roasting snake meat. Some special seasoning gave the meat an especially tempting fragrance.

When the boy saw Chu Youcai awaken, gratitude shone on his face. He hurriedly handed over a piece of the roasted snake.

After a few bites, Chu Youcai felt his strength returning. He sensed that his lifespan had not been further diminished—likely because his second use of the Toad Dragon Mountain River Pearl had occurred after midnight—and he breathed a sigh of relief.

In conversation, he finally understood why the youth had been so earnest in his worship.

The boy’s family name was Li, and he hailed from a village across the sea. A peculiar plague had spread through the villages there; it brought lingering illness but did not kill outright. The boy’s grandfather and father had been herbal doctors, once serving at the Imperial Medical Academy, though physicians held low status. So the boy had studied diligently, passing the county scholar exam at just fourteen. At that time, however, his mother and most of the villagers were stricken by the plague, and the local doctors were powerless.

Desperate, the boy sought help everywhere, until the temple keeper told him that across the sea stood a hundred shrines. Legend said that if one piously worshipped at every shrine, never wavering even in the face of death, there was a chance the Sea God would be awakened and deliver them from the plague.

Thus, the youths of his village set out together, crossing the waters to this place. But at every shrine, a shadowy serpent would devour them. This boy was the last survivor, yet he persisted, determined to save his people and end the scourge.

“I know there are monsters in those shrines,” the boy said, his face shadowed but his gaze unshakable. “But I am not afraid. Someday, I will move their hearts.”

Chu Youcai was deeply impressed by the boy’s resolve, and so they joined forces to explore the other shrines. After the previous battle, Chu Youcai found his strength had grown considerably; he could now unleash the Toad Dragon Mountain River Pearl twice in succession without fainting.

The boy was skilled at roasting meat in various flavors and understood how to preserve it, so their journey was not arduous.

From then on, every two days or so, they would arrive at a new shrine. At each one, the boy would kneel for a whole day in devout prayer, abstaining from food and drink, while at night, shadowy serpents would emerge. Chu Youcai would ambush them, succeeding again and again.

So the slaying continued, and Chu Youcai lost track of time. Only the boy remembered—they had already worshipped at fifty shrines dedicated to the Sea God.

By now, Chu Youcai’s strength had soared; he could unleash the Toad Dragon Mountain River Pearl twice in a row with ease, and he had developed a resistance to the serpents’ piercing cries. Though still grating, the sound no longer held sway over him.

Still, he did not grow complacent, for he realized these shadow serpents were only half as strong as the one haunting the City God Temple—barely at the ten-year cultivation level. In this world, both the monsters’ power and the efficacy of curses seemed to be halved.

Through countless uses of the Toad Dragon Mountain River Pearl, he had also discerned that its power diminished with consecutive use, dropping to about ninety percent of its previous strength.

In contrast, the boy grew thinner and more wan with each passing day. His worry for his mother and the villagers weighed heavily on him, and, despite his perseverance, he had yet to feel any kindness from the shrines. Were he less steadfast, he might have abandoned hope long ago.

Seeing the boy’s plight, Chu Youcai’s heart ached. To fight on, knowing hope is futile—and to face the shattering of that hope, to discover the Sea God is but a myth—how could one bear such despair?

Chu Youcai dared not imagine it.

And so they persisted, until at last the shadow of the final shrine appeared.

By now, Chu Youcai’s power was formidable. Facing the serpent shadow, he acted with practiced ease—one strike of the Toad Dragon Mountain River Pearl left the serpent gravely wounded.

But then, to Chu Youcai’s surprise, the shadowy serpent suddenly spoke in human tongue, claiming to be the Sea God. It said it had heard the boy’s prayers and would cross the sea to cure the plague.

Chu Youcai was immediately on guard.

The boy began the final rite to honor the Sea God. With utmost devotion, he lit incense, bathed in the sea, then approached the python with a knife. Suddenly, he raised the blade and, with all his strength, plunged it into the serpent. The python writhed and screamed, but already mortally wounded, it could not break free. The boy held on fiercely, hacking away until at last the serpent was cleaved in two.

It turned out the boy had already recognized the serpent shadow as a fraud. At the same time, he drew from his belt a piece of sheepskin parchment—untied from the leg of a wild goose the day before. On it was written: “Only I remain in the Li Village. If you are across the sea, do not return. Li Ming.”

Chu Youcai was deeply moved.

At that moment, the boy turned to Chu Youcai with a sorrowful smile. “Thank you, brother,” he said.

It was the first time Chu Youcai had seen him smile—a smile that seemed capable of surmounting all dangers, marking a transformation in the boy’s spirit.

Then, facing the raging wind and rain, the youth shouted with a voice that echoed across heaven and earth, strong as iron and stone: “I, Li Shizhen, swear that in this life I will rely on no one. I will devote myself to the study of medicine, so that plague shall never ravage the world again, so that no one else will suffer as I have!”

He walked off into the distance, leaving a trail of resolute footprints in the sand.

Watching the boy’s retreating figure, Chu Youcai felt a warmth flow through his heart. Was this the famous Li Shizhen?

To believe in Buddha, in the Sea God, in hope—yet ultimately, one must believe in oneself! Now, Li Shizhen had severed all confusion.

Chu Youcai murmured, “With every ten steps, a man falls; after a thousand miles, he does not linger. When the deed is done, he brushes his cloak and hides his name deep within the world…” He seemed to see before him a hero and a god of medicine rising from the earth.

Just then, he felt a force stirring within him, indescribable in its power. After a year of cultivation, he, too, was changed—his spirit sharper, like the youth’s.

His gaze now pierced the heavens, looking toward another world: Lei Yinyang, I am coming!

No matter how powerful you are, I, like Li Shizhen, have severed all doubts. I trust only the sword in my hand—where my heart leads, no edge may bar my path!