Chapter 2 — The Fourfold Spirit Marrow Enters the Body
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 4
Granny Zhu seized his hand and bustled him eagerly back into the village, grinning. "Enough gawking—come on, hurry! Today is your great day! Village Head! Old Ma! Come out, all of you!"
Fires blazed to life in the village. The Village Head was carried out once more on a stretcher, and said in a grave voice, "Have all four spirits been found?"
"All found."
One-armed Old Ma dragged in a serpent several zhang long, its scales the color of jade-green, still alive and reeking of rank fish. Old Ma pinched its vital spot with his single hand, and it could not stir.
The mute blacksmith hauled in a great bird, taller than the mute himself, its wings and feet bound fast. As it struggled, sparks of fire flew from its feathers with a crackling pop—a fearsome sight.
The blind elder brought a giant tortoise larger than a tabletop. No one knew how many years it had lived; its shell had taken on a golden hue. Its four limbs were drawn into the shell, but now and then it would stealthily poke out a claw, and Shen Mu saw that beneath the claw water vapor gathered, as if it could lift the golden tortoise and ride the mist to freedom.
But the blind elder had run a fishhook through its nostrils, and it could not escape.
"Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, Black Tortoise—though we cannot obtain the blood of these four true spirits, we can substitute the green serpent, the iron-boned tiger, the thunder bird, and the golden tortoise, and refine a measure of spirit blood. That will be enough."
The Village Head nodded to the village butcher. The butcher grinned, braced both hands on the ground, and dragged himself forward. He was a man with only his upper half; everything below the waist had been severed, the wound clean and even.
Four vats were set before the green serpent, the tiger, the thunder bird, and the golden tortoise. With one stroke each, the butcher bled the beasts. Before long, the four quarry had drained of blood.
"The alchemist," said the Village Head.
The village alchemist stepped forward. He had no face—the skin seemed to have been sliced from it, and with it his nose, and half his mouth, upper and lower lip. He was the most hideous and terrifying man in the village, yet to Shen Mu, Grandpa Alchemist was the kindest person there.
The alchemist came forward and produced four strange red leaves, each bearing a snow-white insect egg. He dropped one leaf into each vat, and the eggs split open; silkworm larvae clung to the leaves and drank the blood.
These larvae grew the moment they met the air. The more blood they drank, the larger they swelled, and soon the blood in all four vats was drained dry, leaving in each a single fat, enormous worm.
The alchemist seized a handful of white crystalline powder, like salt, and scattered it into the vats. Shen Mu watched the four fat worms shrink at astonishing speed, and could not help but click his tongue in wonder.
After a moment, the alchemist picked up the four worms, each now no bigger than a palm. He took out four white porcelain cups, gripped one worm, and squeezed hard. The worm squeaked, and from its mouth flowed a cupful of blood plasma, translucent and amber-bright as crystal.
The alchemist did the same with the other three, squeezing the blood from their bellies, and set the four cups before Shen Mu. He shook his head. "They are not true spirit beasts, after all. This little is all the spirit blood that can be refined."
"Mu'er, the human body harbors seven great treasuries: the Spirit Fetus, the Five Luminaries, the Six Harmonies, the Seven Stars, Heaven and Man, Life and Death, and the Spirit Bridge. These seven treasuries are sealed from birth, like buried treasure locked away—and so they are called the seven divine storehouses."